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warriorteam1924 · 3 years ago

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The daffodils look lovely today

Freddie Mercury x Jim Hutton

Author’s note : Hello my beauties. This piece is very special because it is for a special event. This is for Freddie Mercury weekend 22, hopefully fitting the prompt ‘petals’ I’m not tagging the host cause i don’t expect a mere reblog just because or to have visibility. I want to express my love for Freddie, Jim, Queen, while I’m not particularly at a good place at this very moment. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks in advance for the feedback. Also, I remind you English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes….

Warnings : none, despite it’s not my fave genre, this is fluff....

Summary : Flowers and Petals in Garden Lodge....

Words count : 1,343words

Permanent tag list : @reavenedges-lies @thosequeenboys @born-to-lose @orionis8689 @queenlover05 (I’m begging you to let me know if the tags bother you please)

Jim Hutton wasn’t sure if he was truly a gardener or not, all he knew was he adored flowers. All of them were so wonderful, so unique, and their smell was so exquisite. Being outside Garden Lodge was always a blessing for him. No matter the season, he enjoyed being surrounded by nature. Psithurism was surely one of his favorite melodies. But it was before he met Freddie Mercury.

Jim couldn’t exactly recall when he realized he was in love with this wonderful man. All he knew was that he couldn’t bear to live another day without being by his side. Jim loved everything about Freddie. His charisma, his kindness, his extravagance in public while actually being sometimes reserved in private. He was of course such a handsome man, Jim couldn’t deny it. And his voice. Freddie had managed to seduce the world with his voice, and Jim knew why. He had fallen for it as well. No matter what Freddie was saying, just rambling about the very often unpleasant British weather, or enthusiastically moving his arms as he was talking about the last opera record he got, Jim found it was always the most wonderful sound to come to his ears.

Jim didn’t know what Freddie found attractive in him. He was an average man, not really good looking. But eventually, he convinced his own mind that Freddie also loved him back for who he was, that there was no need to try and be anyone else, since the singer was always sincere and genuine with him. There was no longer need to doubt, no time to waste with questions and uncertainty.

As he was spending a lot of time in the garden while Freddie was in the studio recording or arranging music with his band, Jim particularly enjoyed taking care of the garden, making sure there were flowers all year long. This way, he always had an excuse to offer a fresh bouquet to his lover.

Freddie was always delighted when he got flowers from Jim. He was taking them in his arms with a wide smile, and Jim felt his heart melt every time the singer was grinning, aware he was one of the rare persons on this planet to have such a privilege.

Yet, before the bouquets could even wilt, Jim always noticed the vase was emptied. Every time he passed in front of the emptied and cleaned vase, he wondered if one of the cats had knocked the flowers over, but also asked himself why the vase wasn’t broken. Yet, despite the questions, Jim carried on making sure there were blossoming flowers in the garden, and always a nice bouquet for his lover in the house.

It was another day and yet another celebration for Freddie. He was proud of Garden Lodge and loved to have guests around, taking any excuse to have people coming over. Jim wasn’t fully sure as for why the singer liked to have guests so often, but as long as it made him happy, he didn’t care much.

“Jim, darling, could you bring us our hats, please? I don’t want our heads to overheat while we’re outside.”, Freddie asked his lover, then pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “You know, the ones with the flowers. I wouldn’t want to be out of tune in this wonderful garden.”, he added with a wink, shaking his hips a little with a smirk.

How could Jim ever say no to him? With a smile, and feeling like he blushed a bit all the same after Freddie’s kiss, Jim headed inside then went upstairs, looking for these outrageously big hats.

Freddie was a very conscientious man, but him seeking for perfection only applied to music it seemed. This wardrobe was an absolute mess. There were clothes everywhere, only a few things actually properly folded. Jim sighed, but began to move the T-shirts and other colorful tops to find the hats.

“There is even a carton box in here, what the hell….?”, Jim sighed, exasperation slowly winning over his patience.

He put it aside, willing to carry on looking, but he couldn’t find the hats Freddie was talking about. Maybe he had put them somewhere else….

Jim turned again, putting the clothes back inside the wardrobe. There was no time to fold them properly anyways. Freddie and the guests were still waiting in the garden.

He looked around to make sure he didn’t forget anything, but he noticed he had left the carton box on the bedroom floor. Rolling his eyes as he wondered how on earth he was going to fit it back in the wardrobe, he took a closer look all the same. And he even dared to open it after reading the label that was written on top of it.

Freddie was still in the garden with his guests, looking towards the bedroom windows, wondering what was taking Jim so long. He excused himself then headed back inside, willing to find Jim.

The singer directly walked towards the bedroom, where he found Jim seated on the floor, with a notebook open in front of him. The carton box was still on the floor, open as well.

“Oh.”, Freddie let out as he saw this scene.

“Freddie….”, Jim said, half whispering, half sobbing.

“Oh, no, no, please don’t cry, darling, or I’m gonna cry as well….”, the singer hastily said, rushing towards his lover, sitting next to him.

“Fred…. What does it mean?”, Jim asked, pointing at the box. “Where does this come from?”.

“Well.”, he replied, passing his hand in his shiny black hair. “I gathered a few petals from the bouquets you’ve been offering me from the beginning….”, he explained, feeling embarrassed. “All of them, actually….”.

“Oh, Freddie….”, Jim said, tears running in his cheeks again.

“And in the notebook you have in your hands, I taped all the notes you wrote to me, when you gave me the flowers….”, the singer carried on explaining.

“That’s so so sweet of you.”, Jim said, placing a hand on his lover’s cheek, caressing it with his thumb. “But…. This doesn’t explain what’s written on the carton box….”, he pointed out.

“Well. It’s…. I ….”, Freddie hesitated, mumbling slightly. “I keep those for the kids to throw the petals on the aisle when we get married. Hence, the ‘our wedding’ note on the box….”, he said, lowering his head.

“But….”, Jim hesitated.

“I know.”, Freddie replied, fully aware they couldn’t legally get married.

The two of them remained silent, dreamily staring at the carton box, fully of colorful petals Freddie had gathered.

“Will you marry me?”, Jim suddenly asked, as if it was coming out of nowhere.

“What?”, Freddie asked.

“Freddie Mercury, will you marry me?”, Jim repeated, looking at him in the eyes.

The singer frowned, not really knowing what to do. He knew it would never lead them to a real marriage with a real administrative proof the two of them were legally partners. But he also knew he loved the man standing next to him, the man who still had his cheeks wet because of the tears, more than his own life. There was no need to pounder the question.

“Yes. I want to be your husband, Jim.”, Freddie eventually replied with a smile.

The two men embraced each other, both of them rolling on the floor, kisses covering the other’s face. They carried on rolling on the floor, pecks still pressing on their respective skins, until they bumped in the edge of the bed.

“Ah, look, here are the hats….”, Jim said, as he looked under their bed. “The guests are surely wondering where we are….”.

“Yes, probably. But I don’t care. I’m your fiancé now. Nothing else in this universe matters.”, Freddie replied, putting yet another kiss on his lover’s lips.

They eventually grabbed the hats and went back to the gardens with their guests, enjoying this beautiful day.

And it was the most wonderful of them all, because once again, Jim and Freddie’s hearts were filled with the other’s love.

#warriorteam1924 writes #the daffodils look lovely today #queen #freddie mercury #jim hutton #fmw2022 #jimercury #freddie mercury x jim hutton #queen imagine #queen fiction #queen fanfiction #queen fanfic #sudden inspiration to prevent an actual drowning

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stormtrooper-in-clogs · 3 years ago

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Bind Me To Your Legal Contract (ha ha)

Co-written for Jimercury week with @iwilltrytobereasonable!

Jim would be happy just being the gardener for Hutton Enterprises, if only a couple of the board members would leave him alone. And if one of them would take proper care of his cat.

Though the cat does make a particularly good friend one day.

***

He felt like a servant. It wasn’t so much that Jim spent his days on his knees - that was an essential piece of making the earth bloom, even in the garden of a corporate park - but he was always being ordered around by Tony and Bill, two board members who felt Jim was beneath them. They were always leaving trash everywhere and tracking mud onto the freshly-cleaned floors, insisting that Jim had left the place a mess. Nevermind that he wasn’t technically part of the cleaning staff. Nope, it was always Jim’s responsibility to clean up after them.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if it were just the two of them, but Tony always insisted on bringing his cat with him to the office, so of course Jim had to look after him too. His name was Oscar, and his owner seemed to like the idea of having a cat more than the responsibility of watching out for him, as he had free reign to do as he pleased. Whenever the cat took a break from knocking coffee mugs off desks or tearing up whatever papers he could get his paws on, it seemed like he was trying to escape, and guess who would have to go track him down.

#Freddie Mercury #Jim Hutton #Freddie Mercury x Jim Hutton #Jimercury #jimercury week 2022

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assembledherethevolunteers · 4 years ago

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Day 19- Christmas Baking

A/N: Prompt #19 for @acdeaky ‘s writing challenge! Sorry I didn’t get this up yesterday. Life got a bit out of wack. For those of you that haven’t read my other daughter!reader fics, ‘Dad’ is Jim and ‘Papa’ is Freddie.

Pairing: Freddie Mercury x Jim Hutton w/ daughter!reader

Summary: You have a bake sale at school that you need help with. Your dad is a great help. Your papa…not so much.

Warnings: Fluff

Taglist: @queenlover05 @theblossomknows

You came bounding inside, your hands filled with groceries. Your dad followed behind you, holding some groceries as well.

“Daddy, can we get started now?”

“After we put everything away, sweetheart.”

You helped him put the things that you didn’t need away and then looked to him.

“Now?”

Your dad chuckled. “Yes, now we can. Grab the big bowl from the cupboard next to the sink and we’ll get started.”

You did as you were and came back to your dad.

“Alright, so we need two eggs, two cups of sugar, and…”

You lost what your said when the front door opened.

“Hello, my lovies!”

Your dad seemed confused but you ran to see your papa bending down to pet one of the cats.

“Papa!” You ran to him.

He pulled you into a hug and kissed your hair. “Hello, darling.”

“What are you doing home?”

“Oh, your Uncle John had to go home to see Aunt Veronica, so we all decided to come home.”

You frowned at him. “Is Aunt Veronica okay?”

Your papa tucked some of your hair behind your ear and gave you a smile. “Yes, she’s fine. Just feeling a bit sick before she has the baby.”

You nodded, accepting his answer.

“Y/N! Are we going to help?”

“Coming!” You took Papa’s hand and pulled him into the kitchen.

“Daddy! Can Papa help?”

Your dad looked at him and gave him a knowing smile. “I don’t know, love. He might not…”

“I can help!” Your papa spoke up.

Your dad raised an eyebrow at your papa. “Alright. Could you grab the vanilla extract?”

Your papa’s eyes widened and he looked to you.

You giggled and motioned for him to bend down so you could whisper to him.

“It’s in the brown bottle up there,” you pointed to where you knew the vanilla was.

He went and took some a few extra moments to find it and then held it out to your dad, triumphantly.

“Alright, but these are for Y/N’s bake sale at school so they can donate money to The Toy Project for children.”

Your papa put one hand on his chest. “You say that as if I’ll mess them up somehow.”

Your dad didn’t say anything, but grabbed the measuring cups from the drawer.

“I think you can do it, Papa,” you told him.

“Thank you, lovie. I knew I could count on you.”

The three of you then got to work. Well, your dad and you got to work. Your papa tried.

“Jim, darling, what does ‘TSP’ mean?” “Y/N, what does ‘beat the eggs’ mean? That seems a bit rude.”

You and your dad met eyes a few times and traded secret smiles.

After the cookies were in the oven, you got the frosting ready.

“Decorating. Much more my speed,” your papa actually looked excited for that part.

The three of you waited for cookies and your papa told you all about his day at the studio with your uncles. It always liked hearing those stories. They usually seemed to have fun.

Finally, the oven went off and your dad got them out of the oven.

“Okay, we have to wait a few minutes before we try to put frosting on them.”

“Because?” Your papa asked.

“Because, Papa, if we put it on the warm cookies, it’ll melt.”

“Ah,” your papa nodded and then looked at you. “See, what would I do without you and your smarts?”

You grinned and listened while your papa and dad were talking about the holidays coming up and what you would be doing so that you could see your grandparents.

“Alright, I think they’re ready now,” your dad brought them over. “Now, you two be careful and don’t make too much of a mess. I’m going to run out and pick us up some dinner.”

“Of course not, dear, we’ll be fine.”

Your dad gave you a kiss on the top of your head and your papa a kiss on the cheek before he left.

“Alright, lovie, let’s get started.”

You grabbed the red frosting, starting to make a Father Christmas on the cookie, but all you ended up doing was making a red mess. You stared at it, frustrated. You looked over at your papa and he was making a tree on the cookie. It looked like a tree. You looked back at your cookie and slammed the red frosting down.

“Hey now,” he looked over at you. “What was that about?”

“I can’t do this!”

“Oh, yes you can. Come on, I’ll help you.”

You sighed, but picked the frosting back up.

“Now, what ware you trying to do?”

“Make a Father Christmas.”

“Alright, well, let’s start with his hat.”

Your papa walked you through it, making it actually look like Father Christmas’ hat and face.

“See? You just needed a bit of help. And there’s nothing wrong with that, you just have to ask.”

“Thank you, Papa. Can you help me decorate some for Hanukkah? Miss Bacall told us all about it! She said that they light candles for eight nights and instead of red and green they use blue and white.”

“Of course I can, my love. Hand me the blue frosting.”

The two of you were almost done when your dad walked in the door.

“I’m back with supper!”

“Jim, dear! Come look at the cookies!”

Your dad walked in, his hands filled with takeaway. He looked at the fully decorated cookies.

“They look beautiful. You did an amazing job.”

“Does this mean I can help in the kitchen more?”

You looked at your dad and the two of you seemed to have a silent conversation.

“I don’t think so, Papa.”

#freddie mercury #jim hutton #freddie mercury x jim hutton #freddie mercury fanfic #freddie mercury imagine #daughter!reader #freddie mercury fluff #dad!freddie #dad!jim #freddie mercury fan fic #queen #queen band #queen fanfic #queen fanfiction #acdeaky’s december writing challenge #krissys writings

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queenpromptmeme · 4 years ago

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Prompt: a jimercury fic (or any other pairing, this is just the initial idea) set in the '20s, Gatsby-style. Freddie is a lavish young man who throws lavish parties, Jim ends up on one of those and so the pining starts.

#jimercury #page 1 #freddie mercury #jim hutton #freddie mercury x jim hutton #20s #band rpf #submission

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annakin-gaywalker · 5 years ago

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I think I'm gonna cry

#freddie mercury #jim hutton #freddie x jim #freddie mercury x jim hutton #jimercury

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eileen-crys · 7 months ago

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Down in the Dungeons

Ch.27: “very very frightening me”

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22573960/chapters/142021417 (Words: almost 5k) WARNINGS: Angst and hurt/comfort

Life goes on in the City of Fireflies, and some of our beloved characters are going to take important steps towards their future.

Uhm, hey. Hi. I'm kinda glad I gave the last chapter some sort of closure, because it's been more than a year since I posted it. I am genuinely sorry I put this story on hiatus, it became quite difficult to write for me and the fandom getting smaller, the feedback getting fewer, etc. made it harder to write. 😔 But I slowly kept adding scenes and having ideas to continue this story, and to be honest I'd love to keep writing it, even if it means posting one chapter a year. These characters' stories ain't finished yet! 💕💕💕 This is quite long, basically two/three chapters at once, so I hope you'll enjoy it even if my writing is very rusty!

Taglist: @warriorteam1924 @john-deacon-fucks @kiainspace @the-world-of-erit @tenementfunsterwithpurpleshoes @kinole009x @blossom-melina-burnickel @wilyserpent @annina-96 @john-paul-george-ring0 @idontknowhowthisworked @julescape @tiny-irish-warlock @finland-shoes (Please tell me if you want to be added/removed!)

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izzy-b-hands · 4 years ago

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Father To Son

So, the topic of Freddie and Jim and how they might handle raising a teen came up in the DL server today, and after a bit of prompting from the folks there, I came up with this! It’s just a little snapshot, though it does give I think a good view of the parental relationship. And who knows, if folks like this maybe I’ll keep this AU going and write a follow up!

Set in about 1988, in an AU where everyone is healthy and fine (because that’s what makes me happy and what I’m going with here, dang it. Everyone is going to live and thrive and that’s just how it is. I can’t bring anyone back or change what happened irl, but the land of fic gives me some other options while letting me respect what actually happened.)

A note that this does operate with the idea that the government would have made a special (and because bullshit homophobic politics) secret allowance for Freddie and Jim to foster/eventually adopt a kid (I don’t talk about it in the fic here, but the HC that goes w/that is that as much as Freddie hates it, his being famous is a big part of what gets them to say yes to them re: fostering.)

“Tell me why we decided to do this again?” Freddie asked, wincing at the slam of the door upstairs.

“Because we wanted to have a slightly bigger family than us, and the cats, and everyone that lives here with us,” Jim replied. “And we wanted to provide a safe, happy home for a child in need.”

There was a crash from upstairs, and they both winced.

“That was probably something expensive,” Phoebe sighed as he walked through the sitting room. “Let me go up and see if he’ll let me in to clean up.”

“No, let him be, if he wants to be that way,” Freddie said. “He can clean it up himself later.”

“But will he, or will he pout and refuse to do it?” Phoebe asked with a raised brow.

“I’ll talk to him later; he’ll be the one to clean up,” Jim said definitively. “He needs some time to cool down.”

A loud, voice-cracking-right-in-the-middle-of-it shriek came next.

“Dare I ask what set this off?” Phoebe mused.

“We told him he can’t have that little girlfriend of his over with his door shut, that’s all,” Freddie scoffed. “As if my parents would have let me have anyone over and let me even go near my room alone with them. Would yours have let you do that?”

Phoebe shrugged. “Might have depended on the person.”

“Mine might have,” Jim said. “But they’d also put the fear of God into me that I wasn’t to get anyone pregnant.”

“Not really something they needed to worry about,” Freddie smirked.

“No, not really,” Jim admitted. “But he doesn’t know all that, and doesn’t see it that way. Put yourself in his shoes, when you were fifteen, would you be thinking of it like we are?”

They paused.

“No,” Freddie mumbled. “Would have tried and failed to throw a fit about it, probably, then sat there fuming after I got shut down.”

“I’d like to think I’d react decently,” Phoebe said. “But I know that’s not true. It’s just how that age is, it’s a difficult time for anyone.”

The sound of footsteps thundering back downstairs caught them all, and their heads whipped to the entryway.

Oliver stood there, a suitcase in hand, tears streaming down his face. “I’m going to live with her. You can’t stop us hanging out together then.”

“Oh my god,” Freddie tsked. “You aren’t going to live with her.”

“You can’t stop me!”

“Fine, we can’t stop you,” Freddie said. “Which cat shall we give your room to, then?”

Oliver, who had been reaching for his trainers, stopped moving, and turned back to him. “What?”

“You’re insistent, you’re leaving,” Freddie continued. “Fine. But we can’t just leave your room empty. It’s still yours while you’re here though, so which cat do you want to have it?”

Oliver let out a nervous giggle. “You’re joking.”

“I’m as serious as you are about leaving,” Freddie said.

“Y-you’ll miss me though.”

“We would,” Jim interjected. “You’re our son, and we’d very much like you to not leave, I feel you should know. But then again, your father did throw me out the last time we argued-”

“Yeah, but you came back though, and you both said it was silly, and he shouldn’t have done that and you shouldn’t have gone,” Oliver interrupted. He’d dropped his suitcase to the floor.

Jim nodded. “And we certainly aren’t throwing you out now, because we wouldn’t ever do that to you.”

“Might think about it, on the days you act like a little shit,” Freddie admitted. “But we never actually would, you’re supposed to be here! However, if you really mean to leave, and if this girl’s parents want you...”

“Well,” Oliver mumbled. “They grounded her for coming here without telling them.”

Phoebe motioned to them that he was leaving to check for any broken things in Oliver’s room, but raised a brow at Oliver’s statement.

“And did her parents want to talk to us at all about that?” Jim asked.

Oliver nodded. “They said they didn’t care if it was only one of you, cause they know it’s all a big secret thing that who my foster parents are doesn’t get out and what not, and I don’t even think they have any idea that it’s...you two. But they wanted to talk to you and I...”

“This is why you were home late from school,” Freddie sighed. “Come, sit down. Talk.”

“No, I’m going!” Oliver said, and picked his bag back up. “I said I was done here, and I meant it!”

They shared a glance and bit back smiles. It wasn’t that they didn’t understand how serious it was to Oliver, but from the vantage point of an adult, it was almost adorable.

“Okay,” Freddie said. “Tell us the rest before you go to her parents, who I’m guessing do not want you anywhere near their daughter.”

“They didn’t say that exactly,” Oliver said. “Just...I told them that I’m almost an adult, so they could just talk to me, and they said no, they wanted one of my parents, and I said fuck that, and-”

“Oliver!” Jim was aghast. “I know we didn’t raise you from a baby, but you can’t tell me you were taught to talk to someone’s parents like that; I don’t believe it.”

“Well, no,” Oliver whined. “But you should have heard them! Talking about how I wasn’t a ‘good influence’ on her, and must want her to end up out of school raising my kids or something, on welfare programs-”

He dropped his suitcase again and threw his hands up. “I don’t even like her like that; we’re friends! Why would I ever want to...do that with a girl? She’s my friend, that’s disgusting!”

Another shared glance, this time holding a full discussion of ‘Is he...’ and ‘Does he not know that he’s...’

“Oliver,” Jim said slowly. “Just a question, and you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to, or aren’t comfortable-”

“But who do you see yourself...doing that with, as you put it?” Freddie interjected. “I think I have an idea, but I don’t want to presume anything.”

“I..I don’t know, I guess,” Oliver said, blushing. “I mean, I do know, and there is Sam at school, but he’s...he’s got a girlfriend, and he’s really lovely and I’m not and so it wouldn’t happen anyway and-”

“This wasn’t ever about us asking you to close your door, was it?” Jim interrupted. “Or it was, only in the sense that you can’t understand why we would have asked you to at all, when Claire is only your friend.”

Oliver nodded. “All we were doing was listening to music, and I’m not interested in her like that, and I never would be! I don’t...get that.”

“I do ponder,” Freddie said. “How much of this comes from you growing up the last few years here.”

“He’s been around straight people,” Jim said. “We’ve had Mary and her family over before, and John, Roger, and Brian and all of their families.”

“I know, but-” Freddie started.

“Are you two trying to figure out if you made me gay?” Oliver interrupted. “I’ve known since I was like...I don’t know, even. I just never thought about girls like that. Boys, yeah. But not girls. It’s never been a thought in my mind.”

“You can’t ‘make’ someone gay,” Freddie said. “And I think you know that already, but I only worried that you haven’t seen the full spectrum of relationships, and what they can be, that’s all I meant.”

“I have,” Oliver said. “Seen that, I mean. I know how you and Dad love each other. I’ve seen your bandmates, and their families. Mary with her husband and Mack, when they’ve been over. You haven’t like...deprived me of anything. I just don’t know why you’d think I was like them. I mean, they told you why they placed me with you, right?”

They shook their heads.

“It wasn’t discussed much aside from that it was a lot of money, a lot of arguing with the government, and a lot of promising to keep it secret until you were grown that they’d let a gay couple foster a child,” Freddie said. “What did they tell you about it?”

“I asked for parents who would accept me,” Oliver said. “And they always told me ‘we can’t promise anything, just be happy a family wants you’, you know. But then they said there was a family that would be perfect for me because they were...like me. I figured you already knew all of that, and knew I was gay.”

“It was not mentioned to us, or we would never have bothered you about having Claire over,” Jim said. “Now, we might have said something about the days Sam was over, had we known-”

“I did think it was weird that you never made me leave the door open with him,” Oliver interrupted. “Even though it would never happen; he’s got stupid Laura-”

“Don’t,” Freddie said sharply. “You won’t get anywhere holding onto hatred like that. There’s someone out there for you, just maybe not Sam.”

Oliver opened his mouth to protest.

“No, hear me out. I have spent literally my entire life thinking I wouldn’t be loved properly. Wouldn’t find anyone. Tried again, and again, and had no luck in finding someone that made me happy,” Freddie continued, and looked to Jim. “That I could make happy.”

“But then your father and I found each other, and he fought me, so he won me,” Freddie said. “But I spent years upset and angry and horribly sad and bitter about it, in turns with the good moments where I thought, with each boyfriend, that maybe I’d found the right person. But those moments could have been even better, had I not been hanging on to all of the rest of that.”

Oliver nodded. “I don’t really hate Laura. Just jealous.”

“And that’s okay,” Jim said. “It’s normal to feel something like that. But you can’t take it out on either of them; you’re responsible for your feelings. You know that.”

He nodded again. “Claire’s parents really are still mad at me. I don’t think I can go over there until you guys talk to them. Can I stay here?”

Freddie stood and walked over to wrap him in a hug. “What a stupid question. Of course you’re staying here; we weren’t going to let you leave!”

“I thought you said there were no stupid questions?” Oliver asked, his voice muffled with his face pressed against Freddie.

“There are when it comes to something like that,” Freddie said, letting him go. “This is your home! You’re always welcome here, even after you get old and go away from us and only visit at the holidays.”

“I’ll visit more often than that,” Oliver said with a small smile.

“And that’s lovely, but if you’re too busy living your life and being happy, then we’ll be chuffed just to see you at Christmas,” Freddie said. “The most important thing is that you’re happy, and that you know you can always come back home. The cats may unofficially take over your room while you’re away, but we won’t actually give it to them.”

“I can share with them,” Oliver laughed.

“Isn’t that basically what we all do already?” Jim asked as he joined them, and quickly grabbed Oliver’s suitcase from the floor. “We live here, but really only because they allow us...”

Oliver nodded, then winced. “I sort of broke a vase. In my room. I’m sorry about that, but I should go help Phoebe clean it. I know that’s what he went to go do, but it’s my mess.”

He took his suitcase from Jim, and trotted back upstairs to his room, calling for Phoebe as he went.

They both let out a sigh once he was out of earshot.

“Can you believe I asked them if we could have more than one, at one point?” Freddie asked. “What was I thinking, the stress from just one is enough, oh my word-”

“I know,” Jim interrupted, a hand at Freddie’s hip, pulling him close. “But I think we’re doing okay. We didn’t even have to prompt him to go help clean up, you know? And he wasn’t like that when he first got here.”

Freddie nodded. “That’s true. A wonder what three years can do for a kid, apparently. Just never thought I’d be someone who would be the parent to do that!”

“Well, you are,” Jim said, and kissed him on the cheek. “I should probably find the number for Claire’s parents, and call and apologize for what happened.”

“You know I’d do it if they wouldn’t recognize my voice,” Freddie sighed.

“I know,” Jim said. “Don’t worry about it; I don’t mind. Because you’re going to go give him...the talk, aren’t you?”

“I mean it isn’t like they noted on the forms if he’d already had that talk,” Freddie said. “And now that we know he’s gay, that’s a talk we’re actually equipped and responsible to give him; can you imagine if he’d had straight parents trying to go over safe sex and relationships with him? He might try packing his things again, but may as well do it now, since the topic more or less came up...”

“I don’t think he’ll do that,” Jim said. “All the same, good luck, and I’ll be up to help you as soon as I’m off the phone.”

Freddie winced. “Good luck to you on that. Please let them know my apologies as well, and that we’re not going to let him talk to his friend’s parents like that again. Hopefully they won’t hold a grudge about it; I’d hate to think he couldn’t see Claire at all again over this.”

They exchanged resolute nods, and headed in opposite directions: Freddie, upstairs to Oliver’s room, and Jim to the phone in the hall.

And for the rest of the night, Garden Lodge fell happily, wonderfully, silent.

#text post #LeeH writes #freddie mercury x jim hutton

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muraae · 6 years ago

Text

Jim: It’s dark in here, can you get the flashlight?

Freddie: You’re the only light in my life, Jim.

Jim: Fred I can’t f*cking see.

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bitchysoulwasteland · 2 years ago

Text

Bucky Barnes X Reader

Never did you think that it would come to this. Lights flashed around you as Steve attempted to make a controlled decent to the ground. For the second time in his life, he was failing miserably.

'Why does no on ever let me pilot?! I was in the bloody RAF.' you thought before darkness took your vision at the impact.

You blinked a few times before your eyes adjusted to the light.

"You alright?!" you herd a British accent (belonging to your uncle, Brian May) shout as Bucky helped you up.

"Yes, thank you, sir." Steve said in his 'Captain America' voice.

"We would all be if a certain someone could fly a damn plane without crashing." you said bluntly as the person's eyes widened at your voice, a small child appearing from behind him.

"Auntie Y/n?!" the small child shrieked as you bent down to envelop her in a hug.

"How you doin' love?" You said as you pulled back to look at her.

"Granddad Freddie's been teaching me piano!"

"Which songs?" you asked as you picked her up and all followed your uncle to the huge farmhouse, Rockdale Farm.

"Bohemian Rhapsody. I'm not very, good though." you gently lifted her chin with your finger.

"I'm sure that you're absolutely amazing, my little rockstar." you smiled as she giggled at the nickname.

"Who's that man?" she questioned as she pointed at Bucky.

"That's Bucky." she quickly wriggled out of your grip to go and walk beside him, leaving you walking alone, whilst taking in the view.

Soon enough, you were at the farmhouse.

"Y/n?!" you herd various women shout as you walked in through the door. Before you stood your mother, your second father, Jim Hutton, your aunt Anita, your aunt Sarina, Tiger Lily, Lola, Rufus, Felix and Rory.

Before you could say anything, you were attacked in a five way hug from the Queen members.

You introduced everyone to the Avengers and vice versa before your mother suggested a barbeque. Everyone changed into more appropriate clothes before doing so.

Within this time, you managed to slip back into the house. Closing the door softly behind you, you made your way to the recording studio, where your father's white grand piano sat.

You couldn't help the smile that appeared on your lips as you sat on the stool, placing your hands on the aged ivory keys.

After a few moments, you began Bohemian Rhapsody, the first song that your father had taught you when you were young.

You herd the door creak as Bucky walked in, leaning against the piano as he watched you play. He began to sing with you.

As you were so focused on each other, you failed to notice that the Queen members and the Avengers had congregate in the sound booth.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Fred?" Deacy asked as your father pressed the record button.

"Trust me, darling, it will be." he spoke as Bucky picked up an electic guitar to play.

"So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?

So you think you can love me and leave me to die?

Ooh, baby, can't do this to me baby,

Just gotta get out, I just gotta get right out of here.."

Bucky played the solo as you watched him in awe. The times you had been teaching him, he had never played this well.

The song came to an end as you -rather flamboyantly- hit the gong.

Immediately, you whipped around when you herd clapping, your face turning red.

"How much of that did you guys see?" you spoke into the mic.

"Enough to have blackmail material, darling."

"C'mon dad, seriously?"

"Possibly, possibly not. But, really, you, my darlings should duet more often. I'm sure plenty of people would pay to see Y/n Mercury and Bucky Barnes, live in Madison Square Garden."

"Dad, we've discussed this, my performing days have ended." you said as everyone sat back outside.

"Well, darling, you say that, but, I, on the other hand know differently."

"Oh bloody hell." you muttered. Before mouthing 'help me' to Roger, who simply shrugged in return.

"Your father's got a point, lovie." your godfather answered.

"I thought you were meant to be on my side?" He didn't answer. "Fine. 'I'm in love with my car' is nowhere near as good as Bo-Rhap." you folded your arms as you smirked, mock hurt on the drummer's face.

"That's not even funny."

"That's why you should've sided with me." you stated smugly.

"You have got a really nice voice." Nat stated as everyone agreed, everyone's words mingling with each other as memories of being onstage flooded your mind. The cameras flashing everywhere, lighters being waved the roar of the crowd. It got too much and began to consume your senses.

You stood up quickly, nearly knocking over your drink in the process. "I'm not bloody well performing again, not after last time, so just bloody leave it alone" you snapped before running inside the house and to your room.

Bucky went to move, but Brian put his hand up to stop him. "I'll go." the guitarist said before walking inside.

You slammed the door before moving to sit on your bed, your hand gripping the bedframe, grounding you. Shakily, you pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of your bedside table. You managed to get it lit before taking a drag, throwing the closed lighter onto your bed, with the rest of the cigarettes. You lent your knees on you elbows as you hung your head.

The last time you were onstage, you had failed catastrophically. You were meant to play the closing song, 'We Are The Champions' on the guitar, but when it came to the guitar solo with Brian, you got majority of the notes wrong. No one particularly noticed, as Brian was playing louder than you were, but you still felt the shame.

A knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. You turned to see the Queen guitarist closing the door. "Are you alright, Y/n?"

"No." you responded, taking another drag as he sat on your bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't want to go onstage again, cos I'll end up letting you all down, like I did last time with 'We Are The Champions'."

"Y/n, you didn't let anyone down. As far as we were all concerned, you played fantastically. I can't tell you the amount of times I've messed up in the middle of a concert."

"But, you're the best guitarist in the world. How's that even possible?" he smiled at this.

"I wouldn't say best in the world, but..." he said, his ego boosted "Everyone gets nervous before a show. It just means that you care about what you're going to do."

"Yeah, I know, I just don't want to screw up." you said as you stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray.

"You just have to do your best." He spoke, walking to the door.

"Thank you." you said, notably feeling better. Your uncle could see this too.

"We had better get back down there. When I left, your father was trying to get that lad of yours to teach him to use a knife."

"That won't end well."

You walked out of the room with a smile. Maybe you would perform again after all.

#bcky barnes #brian may #roger taylor #john deacon #deacy #queen band #avengers #quinjet #x reader

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