#freddie mercury x y/n

[randomgurl2326]

Listen Here Bucko’s…

I have notice the SEVERE lack of Harlan Coven’s Shelter fics on this app(and many others) and it has to stop.

I mean come on people; Ema Winslow!?!?!? Arthur Spoon Spindell!?!?!?!? Even fucking Troy for gods’ sake!!

I will be supplying fics for this fandom, but we need more people to write for this show. PLEASE IT HAS SO MUCH POTENTIAL!!!

Thank you for listening to my Ted Talk (^••^)

——Abigale

p.s. I’m proud of you for making it through another day my little chalupa muah. All of you are strong and capable, never forget that💚💜

[pandapetals]

Shits and Giggles

You and Logan get drunk together and get caught by Xavier.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

“I’ve lost count of how many I’ve had,” you giggled, waving the half-empty beer bottle in your hand like it was some kind of trophy. The world felt a little off-kilter, the living room spinning just slightly as you leaned against Logan on the couch.

Logan, slouched back with his legs stretched out and another empty bottle at his feet, glanced over at you, his lips curling into a lopsided grin. “Sweetheart,” he slurred, his words tinged with a hiccup, “I think we both gave up on countin' somewhere between… hell, I don’t even know.”

You snorted, dissolving into another fit of laughter that made your shoulders shake. “Between 'hell' and 'I don’t even know,'” you echoed, the absurdity of it striking you as the funniest thing in the world. “That’s gotta be at least… five?”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for another bottle on the coffee table, nearly knocking over a half-eaten bowl of pretzels in the process. “Five? Try ten,” he shot back, popping the cap off with a quick twist of his wrist. “You’re lightweight compared to me.” He took a swig, then glanced sideways at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Remember when you tried to out-drink me that one time?”

You burst into laughter again, nearly spilling your drink. “Oh my God, yes! I thought I could handle whiskey,” you said, still giggling as you shook your head. “And then I ended up singing 'Bohemian Rhapsody' on the pool table.”

Logan snorted, his deep laugh rumbling in his chest. “Yeah, you were ‘Galileo’-ing so hard, I thought you were gonna fall off.” He pointed at you with the neck of his beer bottle, his grin widening. “I’ve never seen anyone get that passionate about Freddie Mercury.”

“Well,” you said, trying to compose yourself but failing as another hiccup escaped, “Freddie Mercury is worth the passion.”

You both dissolved into another round of laughter, so loud that the quiet mansion seemed to echo with it, the kind of laughter that left your sides hurting and tears forming at the corners of your eyes. It felt like the whole world had shrunk down to just the two of you—your private little universe of bad jokes and too many drinks.

Logan wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still chuckling. “We gotta be the loudest drunks in history,” he murmured, his voice low and amused. “Pretty sure we just woke up half the neighborhood.”

“Hey, it’s not our fault the living room has such good acoustics,” you said, hiccuping again, then letting out a laugh that quickly turned into a snort. “Plus, if the mansion was really soundproof like Xavier claims, we’d be fine.”

As if on cue, Xavier wheeled in, looking every bit the stern headmaster despite the lateness of the hour. His brows were raised in a mixture of amusement and disapproval. “And what, may I ask, is the cause of all this ruckus?” he said, his voice calm but carrying that unmistakable tone of authority.

You clapped a hand over your mouth, trying—and failing—to stifle your laughter. “Professor!” you said, eyes wide as you tried to sit up straighter. “Uh, we were just… um…”

“Studying the effects of… alcohol on… something,” Logan added, attempting to sound serious but breaking into a grin halfway through the sentence. “Purely scientific. For… education.”

Xavier sighed, shaking his head as he looked between the two of you. “At this hour? In the middle of the living room?” His lips quirked slightly like he was fighting the urge to smile. “You do realize there are other people in this mansion who require sleep?”

You bit your lip, trying to look contrite but still giggling. “Sorry, Professor,” you said, though your voice wobbled with barely contained laughter. “We’ll keep it down. Pinky promise.” You held up your little finger as if to seal the deal.

Logan glanced at you, then back at Xavier, and without missing a beat, extended his own pinky in a solemn gesture. “Swear on it,” he said, the grin still tugging at his lips.

Xavier shook his head again, a hint of a smile breaking through his stern expression. “I suppose I’ll let it slide this time,” he said, turning his chair toward the door. “But if I hear another rendition of 'Bohemian Rhapsody,' you’ll be on kitchen duty for the rest of the month.”

As soon as he left the room, you and Logan exchanged a look before breaking into laughter all over again, doubling over as you clinked your bottles together. “Kitchen duty,” you gasped, wiping tears from your eyes. “I can’t even make toast without setting off the smoke alarm.”

Logan’s deep laughter echoed through the room once more as he reached over to pull you closer, his arm slipping around your shoulders. “Guess that’s one more reason to behave,” he said, his voice still rough with amusement. “But I gotta admit, darlin’, there’s nobody I’d rather get scolded with.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as the laughter finally started to die down, leaving a warm, fuzzy contentment in its wake. “Likewise,” you murmured, your voice softened by the alcohol and the comfort of his warmth. “We really are a bad influence on each other, huh?”

Logan chuckled, his fingers gently brushing through your hair. “Maybe,” he said quietly, “but I’d say we’re a damn good time.”

[amorchai]

hi bubba, i'm here requesting the lil stevie blurb you wrote for me a while ago; the one with the bonfire and him being all sweet ᰔ

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄.

pairing(s): steve harrington x reader

words: 918

warnings/tags: all the gang being themselves, cursing.

a/n: this is a repost from my old account, the original post gained 700 notes.

the radiating warmth of not only the bonfire in front but the length of steve’s chest pressed against your back is enough to send you into a hazy slumber. if it weren’t for his constant moving as he watched everyone.

your head tucked under your boyfriend’s chin, steve’s arms gently encased your frame and had been for the past hour. the small get together at eddie’s ended with only a few of you left. nancy had drove most of the kids home, max staying as she only lived a trailer across and lucas was stuck to her side; steve opting to drive him back later.

eddie was using his hands atop his knees to make some careless noise amongst conversation with robin whilst steve watched fondly as lucas and max bicker, including him every so often with a ‘steve, tell her,’ or ‘stay outta this, steve, don’t listen to this doofus.’

steve couldn’t get involved, too wrapped up in the ambience of your sleepy nature against him. your breath fanned his neck and your hands clutched his jacket tightly, humming every so often when you stirred from threatened sleep.

“fuck you, honest to god, y/n! back me up here!” hands which previously coursed up and down your back with a sickeningly sweet graze freeze when steve glared at eddie munson from his spot. the kids from beside him follow his gaze when steve tries his best to whisper shout, “shut up, holy crap what ever happened to indoor voices with you lot, huh?”

“i know you weren’t the best in school, steve, but it’s basic common sense to know we’re outside right now.”

his glare moves to robin, ready to make another remark when your nose nudges against his jaw with another hum escaping you, stirring to lay your front against his while hands flatten against his chest which is currently alight with love. causing his throat to close and to shut up entirely.

“i’m not asleep, stevie. still here.” your hands move when steve’s chest vibrates with a chuckle, your words saying one thing but your expression saying a hell of the lot more.

your eyes are half-lidded, filled with a sleepiness, your cheeks look oh-so-soft and steve resists the urge to run the back of his finger over so gently like he’d break you. plus the light from the fire doesn’t help how he feels, not when the warm glow makes you look so much sweeter.

“y/n! queen or the beatles?” eddie’s voice interjects and steve leans down to press a long kiss to your head, lips murmuring against yours in the process, “sorry, baby.” you giggle lazily, hugging yourself closer to your boyfriend, knees bending so you essentially look like a koala clung to a tree.

“queen.”

a rapid beat fills your eardrums as eddie slaps his knees to the chorus of ‘we will rock you’ before standing up and leaning towards robin’s face, “told you! nobody beats freddie mercury, man. nobody!”. eddie looks over to you, face hidden in steve’s frame but eddie still speaks, not caring if it’s not really heard, “this is why you’re my favourite, y/n.”

“y/n’s clearly delirious, isn’t thinking straight,” robin starts.

“yeah, she’s like half asleep,” max continues.

you hardly listen to them, the fall air crisp against your back but steve’s quick to keep you warm. the scent of his woody cologne filling your nostrils and working like a charm to make you feel more woozy and tired, entirely safe in his arms.

“y/n deserves extra marshmallows,” eddie announces in retaliation while leaning down to grip the large bag they shared by the fire earlier to throw it in your direction. steve raises his arm to catch the plastic before discarding it to his side while responding, “y/n deserves some well-needed rest.”

you murmur incoherently against steve’s chest and he runs his hand over your head while whispering, “it’s okay, baby. i’ll get you home to bed.” little did steve know you were far more content at the back of eddie’s garden, lame bonfire while pressed against your boyfriend.

“just stay here?” eddie says as if it’s the simplest thing and steve feels you push against his hand, eyes open once again trying to lift yourself up as you start to disagree, “no, no, no. stevie, we can’t.”

everyone watches you ramble tiredly, steve kissing your forehead while his arms wrapped around your lower back comfortingly, “okay, baby—” but you continue as he speaks back, “we can’t stay, gotta drive lucas to basketball practice first thing tomorrow. gotta go home.”

“you’re right,” steve starts, everyone else confused while steve only smiles at you in complete adoration as you both attempt to move from your comfortable position. steve turns to max and lucas, spinning his finger as a signal to ‘wrap things up,’ “c’mon, lucas. let’s get you home, bud.”

everyone makes a move, lucas nervously leaning in to kiss max’s cheek while steve helps swing his jacket over your shoulder before tucking your tired state under his arm. “robin, need a lift?” asks steve, allowing you a few extra peaceful moments to feel the warm fire against your body.

“think i’m staying here.”

“let’s go, bub,” steve squeezes you while kissing your cheek, his affection only making you feel more tired and light-headed, in the best way while you're guided from the warm fire and instead promised to be cuddled to sleep in the comfort of your bed, your boyfriend right by your side like always.

amorchai masterlist . taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

hi

could you please do a BoRhap request? Where she looks after the guys during recording since her family owns Rockfield Farm and they love her cooking? But the guys (minus Fred who has Mary) all fancy her too?

❤️

SOMEBODY TO LOVE

Pairings: John + Roger + Brian x Fem!reader Summary: ^^ Warnings: none, I don't think Note: I did my best guys, I'm sorry

a knock came to your door as you finished up breakfast

you left the kitchen and went to the front door

you opened the door to see a blonde with long hair with sunglasses on

he was wearing dark, slightly flared jeans, a yellow v neck shirt underneath a greeny grey jacket with fur

behind him was a short haired brunette with a mustache

he pushed the blonde out of the way and held out his hand

"hi, I'm paul, this is Roger, From Queen" he introduced

of course you knew Queen was coming to your family's farm, it wasn't like you didn't know who they were and wouldn't let them in, it's just that you felt Rogers gaze planted on you and it made you feel a little nervous

"you're not" Roger scoffed quietly

"yes, of course, come in, are the rest here too?" you asked, stepping out of the way to let them in

"they're sorting out their luggage" Roger answered, taking off his glasses

"well, I made breakfast..if you're hungry?" you smiled tightly

"depends what you're serving" Roger smirked and looked you up and down

"pancakes" you responded quickly

"yeah, I could eat"

he followed you to the kitchen and he took a seat, shovelling food onto the plate in front of him and started eating

a few minutes later Roger had finished his plate and went back for seconds

"ah there you are Freddie" Paul spoke up, noticing the other three band members by the door

"we're also here mate" the tall, long curly haired brunette said, seeming annoyed by Paul's presence

"should I show you boys to your rooms?" you wondered, breaking the silence that filled the room

The three boys standing at the door all turned to you

"didn't know the farm came with a pretty lady" the curly Brunette smiled

"oh I'm Y/n. this is my Family's Farm. I live in the building beside this one, I'm just here to show you around"

"are those pancakes for us?" the auburn haired one said

"oh, yes! you can have as many as you want" you pointed to the mountain of pancakes you had made on the counter

"they are delicious" Roger said with a mouthful of food

"well I'm Brian, This is Fred and John and I see you've already met Rog"

"it's a pleasure to meet you guys"

"pleasure's all ours darling" Freddie beamed

"well I'll show you your rooms then" you said taking off your apron and leading them upstairs

"it's probably not what you're used to but your manager said it was perfect to get away from distractions so" you shrugged

you turned to face the boys and see Roger first

"you're in here. mister Taylor" you looked to the first door

"right" he grunted, walking into the room with his heavy luggage

"and that's yours, Mister Mercury" you pointed to the room in the corner to the left

"thank you darling"

"Mister May, yours is right here" pointing to the right side next to the bathroom

Brian walked into the room and you noticed John still standing on the top of the stairs

"oh, sorry. mister Deacon, you're downstairs" he walks back down the stairs and you lead him down to the room.

"I know it's small but it doesn't get nearly as cold as the other rooms" you informed him

"okay..." he frowns as he steps down

"well I'll let you get settled then, i'll show you and the band around when you're ready" you smiled, starting to go up the stairs

"are there still pancakes?" he asked, putting his luggage down on the bed

"oh yeah, they'd probably still be warm too" you answered

he soon started following you up the stairs to the kitchen to find all the other members of the band eating the pancakes

"Rog really didn't lie, these pancakes are delicious" Brian hummed

"we need more syrup" Roger lifted up the empty bottle of maple syrup

"oh..ok" you walked over to the fridge as John took a seat and started eating the food

"here you go" you grinned, putting the syrup on the table in front of them

-

it's been a few days since they've arrived and much to your surprise, you've seen more of them then you expected

you didn't think you would see much of them, you thought thy would be very busy and you didn't have a problem with that

but Roger, Brian and John all seemed to want you around them

Roger would casually flirt with you

Brian would always start up a conversation or make you help with with a lyric

and John would subtly make eye contact and smile before coming up to you to ask for suggestions

and they would all ask if you could cook them up something when they got hungry and said they liked your cooking, so much so that there would be barely any left for Freddie or you.

Roger was currently helping you make breakfast while Brian and John sat and ate while they discussed songs

"i put my heart and soul into this song" Roger spoke up as they talked about his new song he made

"no one is disputing that" John smiled, lifting up his fork

"and you don't like it because you want your songs on the album" Roger fought

"it's not that Roger" John denied

"then what is it?" the blonde raised his eyebrows as he stopped cutting bread

"I'm in love with my car?" Brian spoke up

you fought back a laugh at the thought of the song

Brian and John both made a questionable face as silence filled the air

"maybe it's not strong enough?" Brian suggested

"what does that even mean 'not strong enough'?" Roger frowned

"I know I'm late. What did I miss?" Freddie came in and poured himself some tea

John straightened his back and looked at the singer "discussing Roger's car song"

"is it strong enough, that's all I'm asking. If I'm on my own here, then i apologise" Brian put his hands up defensively

"how does your new song go, then, hm?" Roger walked over and grabbed Brians lyrics

"you call me sweet.. like I'm some kind of cheese" the drummer read out

you stifled a laugh as you cooked bacon

"it's good" Brian defended, looking at the John who was eating a sausage with a smile and Freddie who was stirring his tea

"wow" Roger sighed sarcastically

"is that-, is that you know- when my hand's on your grease gun..That's very subtle isn't it?" Brian read Rogers back

"it's a metaphor, Brian" Roger argued

"it's just a bit weird Roger, what exactly are you doing with that car?" John spoke, waving his fork around

"what do you think, Y/n?" Roger turned to you, looking for backup

you put the now cooked bacon on a plate and turned to the boys

"don't turn to me, I'm not getting involved" you shook your head

"children please, we could all murder each other but then who would be left to record this album?" Freddie butted in

"statistically speaking, most bands don't fail, they break up" John stated mater-of-a-factly

"why the hell would you say something like that?" Freddie frowned

John shrugged and Freddie turned back to the Blonde

"Roger, there's only room in this band for one hysterical queen" Freddie informed the drummer before walking out

"you know why you're angry, Roger?" Brian began again

"...why?" Roger breathed out

"'cause you know you're song isn't strong enough" the curly headed man repeated

"boys I really don't think you should be-" you started to say but cut off by Roger throwing bacon at Brian's face

"is that strong enough?" Roger questioned

"ok" you mumbled, looking at John, who smiled at you amusingly

Roger pushed off plates and glasses off the table angrily

"what about that?!" he asked before going over to find something else

"Hey!" you yelled at Roger, who grabbed a pot of Coffee

he turned and began to swing it at the two boys before he stopped as they put their hands up

"Not the coffee machine!?" they both yelled

Roger put the coffee machine down and you sighed looking at the mess

"I'll clean this up" he sighed after a moment of silence

"you sure are" you nodded sternly

-

you sat in the recording room on the couch with John and Roger as Brian got ready to record his guitar

Roger slung his arm around your shoulder as Brian got set up

"so..how about we go get dinner later" he suggested

"pardon?" you wondered

"you, me, i'll take you out to dinner" he repeated

"I highly doubt she'll want to go out with you, Roger, she's too good for you" John sighed

"and what? you're better?" the drummer scoffed, looking over you to the auburn headed bassist

John stared at Roger for a moment

"how's katie? last time we saw her was right before we left to come here" the Deacon wondered

"shut it mate" Roger groaned

your thoughts were cut short as Brian started playing

you focused on the music but felt John's gaze on you, you slowly turned your head to see him staring at you, smiling

"so, do you have a boyfriend?" Roger asked

"I don't see how that's any of your business" you crossed your arms, looking back at Brian, who's still playing his solo

"what if I want to ask you out?" he shrugged

"how come you're the one that gets to ask her out?" John leans forward to argue with Roger

"because I can" the Taylor boy smirked

"Roger, do you have to be such a man whore?" John questioned, his accent become more defined and thick

"I think you're just jealous you don't get women chasing after you" Roger huffed, leaning back on the couch, seeming to be not fazed

"ah yes, because all i need is women to make me feel better about myself, all i need and want is women around me to fill a void of unfulfillment" John rolled his eyes

"oh yeah? let's see who she wants more then" Roger raises his eyebrows as he took off his glasses to look at you

John frowned "you can't pressure her into choosing either of us...that's not how relationships work, Roger"

Roger stifled a laugh "who said I wanted a relationship"

"my point exactly"

"all i'm saying" is that she's probably looking for somebody to love and i'm right here" Roger raised his hands in defense

"what makes you think she wants someone?" John glared

"children, children. leave the poor girl alone, she doesn't want either of you" Freddie butted in

you found yourself wondering how it came to this, two members of the band Queen almost practically fighting for your, to be with you

it made sense about Roger, seeing all of those tabloids of him with new girls around his shoulder almost every week

but John? he didn't really seem the type

you tuned out of the argument and soon wondered when Brian came back into the room as you looked up to find him sitting with Freddie

"I think whatever happens, it's up to her, you shouldn't be trying to force something she does not want" John fought

"what are you guys fighting about?"

"who gets to take this beautiful lady out" Roger smirked, nodding towards you

"who says either of you get to?" Brian spoke in a confused manner

"oh don't tell me you want her too?" Roger groaned

"what's so wrong about that?" the guitarist questioned

"I'm gonna go" you sighed, getting up

"are you still going to make us pasta tonight?" John perked up

you chuckled "I think you all need a break from my cooking"

"NO!!"

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

[hretoprvdthepltnx]

would you please write an ineffable husbands fic where they cook together (at Azeriphale's request of course)? It can regard or disregard season 2. Just please make it fluffy and cute

3 O'clock Breakfast

Ineffable Husbands x daughter-son!reader

Summary: Y/n stayed up late to finish the novel they were reading, and it ended sadder than they expected. Seeking out comfort in their Mother-Father, Aziraphale - a fellow book enthusiast, they didn't except him to insist upon a family Smile, Love breakfast at 3am. Their other parent isn't entirely pleased.

Content: hurt/comfort, reader is written as a teenager (can be older or younger but a teen nonetheless), tears over fiction are valid tears, Aziraphale is a sweetheart, Crowley is sour about having to get out of bed, the reader is Crowley and Aziraphale's biological child - don't ask me how that works, just sweet things with an ethereal family,

Rating: 14+ || 1.5k+ words

Their eyes burned with exhaustion and the salt of tears. Five minutes ago, they could barely stay awake - but it was only a couple more pages and they couldn't stop there, not with what was happening in the story. Now the book sat, upside down and offending, on the nightstand by their bed. The tears wouldn't stop, it was a numb sort of cry. They should have seen this coming. Everything was leading up to it they had just hoped...but no. They wanted their parents - someone they could rant to who would share in their grieving. They wanted Aziraphale. He was the one who recommended the stupid book to begin with. But they weren't mad, not really, just grieving and tired.

Sliding out of bed, they made the trek from their room to their parents' down the hall. They paused at the door to wipe their eyes and clear their airway with a sniffle, then gently pushed it open. "Are you guys awake?" They asked, feeling fresh tears block up in their throat at being so close to their parents. Why did it have to work that way? One second you think you've got yourself under control and then your parent speaks or shows up and suddenly you're crying again. The bedside lamp switched on and Aziraphale sat up, Crowley grumbling unintelligibly and rubbing at his slitted yellow eyes. "Darling? Is everything alright?"

They made their way to his side of the bed and Aziraphale opened his arms to welcome them into his freely offered comfort. Their tears were now back in full, and they wrapped themself around the softness of their Mother-Father with the need to be held. Crowley sat up and exchanged a look with his husband. "Love, are you alright?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep. "I-I fin-finished it." They sobbed into the collar of Aziraphale's shirt, and he made a sound of understanding, nodding. "The novel I lent you? Did you enjoy it? I do believe the ending was quite sad, I was rather dewy eyed over it as well."

"Wait, all this is about a book?" Aziraphale shot Crowley a look of warning. "I do believe it is. A rather emotional story, wasn't it love?" Their child mumbled something in to Aziraphale's shirt that might have been 'yes' or perhaps 'fuck you'. Crowley couldn't believe he'd been pulled out of what might have been a dream, or perhaps a memory, either way it involved Freddie Mercury, just for this. Why would anyone ever want to read if this was the result? "Do you want to sleep with us tonight, darling?" Crowley asked, flopping back down with his head on his pillow. He looked at the clock, the red lettering projected an offensive 3:07AM.

Y/n sat up and wiped their eyes, then laid their head back down on Aziraphale's shoulder, looking out. He rubbed their back soothingly, always so empathetic. "I don't think I can sleep right now." Aziraphale hummed, an upturned chipper to roll the sound from his throat. "Well," he said, a breathless excitement and loving smile that cast one identically on to the tear puffed face of his child. His little world right there, teary eyed and oh-so lovable, in his warm and inviting lap. "Why don't we go downstairs, and I make us a pot of tea? Perhaps some breakfast?" Crowley groaned and threw his arms up over his face in exhausted exasperation - both husband and his child ignored him. "Can we make pancakes? With toppings?"

Aziraphale smiled. "Why, of course! Anything you'd like! And we can all make it together!" Crowley sat up, glaring. "Woah, hold on. All of us? I never said anything about breakfast, I don't even like breakfast." Aziraphale guided y/n to stand up and then he followed suit, standing at the base of his side of the bed and glaring back at his husband while their child waited in the doorway, amused. "Well, Crowley, not everything is about you. Our child wants pancakes, now get up and come help us make them." Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a long look, each silently daring the other to act against them. Finally, Aziraphale grabbed the bottom of the duvet and yanked it off the bed, sending pillows and sheets flying to the floor. Crowley yelled out in protest; y/n stood laughing in the doorway. He glared at them; they glared back playfully.

Aziraphale wacked Crowley gently on the foot. "Up." He demanded with an accusatory pointing of fingers. Crowley groaned in the most dramatic fashion and threw his legs over the side of the bed to stand up, cursing Aziraphale under his breath all the while. His husband and child didn't wait for him as they headed down the stairs to the kitchen. "So, what will it be? Chai? Chamomile? Earl Grey?" Y/n took a seat at the bar while Aziraphale hunted for the kettle. "Which ones do we still have?"

"Umm, let's see," Aziraphale set the kettle down on stove and searched the pantry for tea bags. "I can only find Chamomile. Will that be alright, my love? Would you prefer I made us some hot cocoa?" He waved the box of chocolate powder in the air, and y/n found themself fantasizing about tiny marshmallows. "Let's do hot cocoa." Aziraphale beamed and practically skipped his way back to the kettle. "I was hoping you'd pick that one." It was then that Crowley decided to make an appearance, now fully dressed. "Dad," they said, and he stopped in the middle of the walkway, looking at them with a raised brow. "We are planning to go to bed after this, you do know that, right?"

Crowley walked over to his kid, swaying in the way that Aziraphale and y/n often teased him for, and placed a kiss to the top of their head. "You might be, but I'm not." They looked at him with furrowed brows and confusion so obvious he could practically hear their question in his head. It was like looking into a mirror sometimes, looking at his kid - only they were every bit the angel their Mother-Father was. It was a shame, a damn shame. "Awe, it's too late for that now, sugar. I'm already awake." The clinking of mugs brought their attention back to Aziraphale, and Crowley took the seat next to y/n. "Ah, here we are!" the angel announced, setting two steaming mugs down in front of his little family. Y/n beamed at the little marshmallows sloshing against the walls of the cup, yellow eyes gleaming with delight.

Aziraphale retrieved his mug and lifted it for a toast, Crowley and y/n followed suit. "To the fascination that is human literature." Y/n echoed his toast and Crowley mumbled something about ridiculousness, they all took a sip of their cocoa, hissing as it burnt each of their tongues. "Perhaps we should have waited." Aziraphale commented, making a face at y/n who laughed and agreed. "Perhaps we should have all stayed in bed while we still had the chance."

"Yes, maybe we should have left you there," y/n teased, exchanging slitted glares with their parent. "But then you would have missed the pancakes." Crowley leaned back in his seat and rolled his eyes. "I don't even like pancakes." Aziraphale had started grabbing ingredients out of the pantry, y/n and Crowley got up to help. "How could you possibly know that? You've never even tried them." While Crowley grumbled pointless excuses, Aziraphale handed him the flour and the salt. Y/n grabbed the wet ingredients from the fridge. "Yes, yes, you don't care for human food," Aziraphale waved him off, setting an armful of ingredients on to the cabinet and nearly knocking over his hot cocoa. As soon as his arms were free, he picked up the mug and took a sip, y/n following suit. "However, these pancakes are special pancakes."

"Oh, really?" Aziraphale hummed, exchanging glances with his kid. He sent them a playful wink. "Yes, very special. Because we'll be making them as a family, Crowley. Isn't that nice?" The expectant look on his child's and husband's faces were one in the same. Crowley hated the way he never stood a chance against them. "Ugh, fine," He fought back a smile at the hugs that engulfed him immediately after he caved. "But only if the two of you will stop pestering me." Y/n and Aziraphale exchanged a grin and a nod, "Deal." they said in unison. Crowley leaned against the counter as y/n got out mixing bowls and Aziraphale began measuring ingredients, and he sipped his cocoa. It's going to be a long night, he thought and then, despite himself, he smiled. If this is what love does to a demon, it was pathetic. Yet he couldn't help but to allow it to warm him from the inside out. He was going soft.

"Hey, dad?" y/n asked, looking up at him bashfully. "I can't reach the mixer." Crowley sighed, putting emphasis in to an exasperation he didn't feel, and set down his mug. "I got it." Aziraphale looked up from his carton of eggs and smiled at the pair, his little family. Crowley pretended not to notice, and he purposefully ignored the smiles his loved ones sent each other - not so sneakily - behind his back. It would be a long night, indeed, having to keep up pretending he wasn't enjoying it. He wasn't, not really. Well...perhaps just a little.

|| masterlist ||

story by hretoprvdthepltnx©

Ineffable Husbands/Good Omens copyrighted by Neil Gaiman©

[bitchysoulwasteland]

Jagger 2.0

Steve Rogers x reader

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!!

Summary: Steve has to come to terms with the dreams of his daughter, which his wife already fully supports.

A/n: OMG GUYSSSSSS It’s been so long since I’ve posted and for that I am deeply sorry, I’ve been brought some shit, but I’m better now. For all of yous who enjoy my rockstar-type stuff, you’ll probably like this one, which has been collecting dust in my drafts for absolutely ages. As always, any reblogs/reposts are appreciated, copying or posting my work to other sites without permission is not. Enjoy!!!

Not many people knew of your rockstar lineage, since most people didn’t gather that ‘Jagger’ was the last name of The Rolling Stones’ frontman. That was the beautiful thing about people. No one really listened to The Rolling Stones at any point in your high school or college careers.

You loved to perform. That was one thing you had inherited from your dad. You had your mother’s looks and his overall presence, be it onstage or just in life.

You had never made it as big as your father did, but for a few years, you were called ‘Daisy Jones’ instead of Y/n L/n and was the frontwoman of ‘Daisy Jones And The Six’. Though, that had ended prematurely after two albums due to… differences in opinions.

You were at a pretty miserable place in your life. You were drinking and doing more drugs than you could keep up with when you met Steve.

Between him and your father, they had saved you from yourself. Your father made sure that you went to a good rehab centre and Steve drove you to it.

You didn’t understand at the time why they had bothered, but you were glad they had, otherwise you wouldn’t have your daughter, Sarah Jagger-Rogers, your blonde little six year old who wanted to grow up to be a rockstar like her mother and her grandfather.

There was the problem.

Steve didn’t exactly agree on the whole Rockstar thing. He had seen what it had done to you and he had read various articles about how most Rockstars died long before their time. (Of course, he used Freddie Mercury as an example, to which you told him that he had died of AIDS related pneumonia and then proceeded not to call him for three days when he was on a mission after he still insisted that he was right.)

He didn’t want his little girl to end up like that.

Time and time again you had told him that she wouldn’t end up like that as she’d have a better support system than you or your father did. That still didn’t change his mind.

———————————————————————

Sarah and your father were in the garage (which you had converted to a recording studio during your time with ‘The Six’) playing Princess-Rockstar dress up and messing around with the drum kit, piano, guitars and various other instruments and things in there when you herd the familiar rumble of the Quinjet engines as you were just getting back from a run.

You stretched for a few moments before walking up the long driveway, meeting the Avengers at the door.

“Where’s Sarah?” Bucky asked as you all walked into the house, Steve’s arm around your waist.

“She’s in the garage with my dad. And before you say anything, Steve, you are in no position to crush a little girl’s dreams.” You give him a look before he mutters fine and goes to the garage with Bucky.

“What dream?” Clint piped up.

“She wants to be a rockstar like I was and like her grandfather is but someone is severely against it.”

Steve didn’t say anything as he walked into the garage, seeing the pair together, his heart melting. Maybe his daughter being a rockstar wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

[storiesforallfandoms]

history repeats itself ~ gwilym lee

word count: 2836

request?: yes!

“hey, i saw you wrote for Ben Hardy so I was wondering if you would write for Gwilym Lee? If not ignore this lol. I was thinking something like he meets the reader on set and they immediately hit it off, and the resemblance of her to Brian May’s wife is uncanny (let’s pretend he’s had just the one) and it’s kinda like a history repeats itself thing? idk if that made since. maybe Brian and Roger noticing and just being so amazed seeing that happening in front of them? thank you, and obviously since i have no explanation skills take complete control!”

description: when she gets cast to play the wife of a rock legend, everyone realizes how similar she and her on screen husband look to the originals

pairing: gwilym lee x female!reader

warnings: swearing, rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

It was such a small role, one that didn’t even have any lines. But to me, it was huge. It was a small role in a massive blockbuster movie: the Freddie Mercury biopic. It would be the biggest job of my career. Up until that point, I had only been an extra in a few sitcoms. Having a small, silent role as Brian May’s wife in a Freddie Mercury biopic may seem like a small step up from what I’m used to, but the scale of the movie made it a massive deal for me.

I wasn’t sure if I’d get the role. There were hundreds of other actresses just like me - desperate for even the smallest roles in such a big film - were lined up to meet the director and casting director. It was such a small chance of getting it I thought. Until I walked into the room and both of their eyes widened when they landed on me.

“Holy shit,” the casting director breathed. “She looks just like her.”

I was cast on the spot. I nearly sobbed in happiness. I managed to keep the tears in until I got to my car and could call my parents to give them the news.

A few months later, I was preparing for my day on set. It was a party scene that was taking place at Freddie’s mansion at the height of their career. The other band members - Brian, Roger, and John - were there with their wives/girlfriends. The scene mostly required us to sit by our assigned on-screen husbands while they conversed. It was an easy day, and it was only going to take one day of filming, but I was still nervous. I had already met up with the director and some of the cast involved in the scene, but today I was going to be meeting the main four actors and two members of Queen.

I was just finished with wardrobe and was on my way to hair and makeup when I came across one of the main actors, Gwilym. I had been told about him after being cast, since he was the one playing Brian May, but I hadn’t met him yet. I suddenly felt nervous as I approached the hair and makeup trailer, where Gwilym was stood outside the door also waiting. He looked up as he heard me approach and smiled.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” I said back. “I’m (Y/N).”

“Gwilym. Nice to meet you.” He reached out and shook my hand. I hoped he couldn’t feel how my hands were shaking. “You’re playing Brian’s wife, right? Well, my wife I guess.”

I chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, that’s me. I’m getting all dolled up for my one day on set to film my one, dialogue-less scene.”

“Hey, there’s no such thing as small parts remember.”

I made a face at him. “You sound like my old theater teachers.”

Gwilym cringed. “That’s the last thing I’d ever want.”

I laughed. The door to the hair and makeup trailer opened and two other extras came out. The stylist greeted us and told us to come in. I sat in one chair while Gwilym sat in the one next to me. I watched the stylist grab a long, brunette wig and place it next to Gwilym.

“I’m gonna have to do Gwilym’s wig firs since that’ll take the longest,” she told me. “So, sit tight, and try not to mess up your wardrobe too much.”

I nodded and gave her a thumbs up.

I watched the process of applying Gwilym’s wig. It really did take a long time. First, a bald cap had to be applied to Gwilym’s head. Then, the wig was placed on his head in a few different ways to figure out the best placement. Once that was figured out, the wig had to be pinned down in a way that made it look natural on his head, and not like a wig.

“So,” Gwilym said, trying his best not to move his head. “Since we’re going to be here a while, and since we’re playing a married couple, I suppose we should get to know one another.”

“Sure,” I said with a laugh. “What do you want to know?”

“Is this your first movie?”

“It is. Until now I was just an extra in a few sitcoms. I had one line once, that’s the extent of my career.”

“Well, extras are important. Without them, a scene would look so stupid if it was just the main characters.”

I shrugged. “I know that, and I know every actor has to start somewhere, but I’ve been doing this for roughly five years. Performing Arts schools are expensive and I sometimes worry I made a mistake persuing acting.”

I saw Gwilym’s eyes quickly look over at me before looking back at the mirror in front of him. “It’s never a mistake to chase your dreams. It just takes time. You have to play the small parts in order to get experience for the big ones.”

“You’re right. It’s just taking so long. But I’m here now, so that’s a step up.” I shook my head. “Anyways, away from my career insecurities. Tell me a bit about you.”

We talked throughout his wig applying process. We exchanged embarrassing childhood stories, talked about how we got into acting, general details about one another. I had forgotten about the fact that I was waiting to have my own hair and makeup done by the time Gwilym stood from his chair.

He looked at himself in the mirror before turning to me. “How do I look?”

I tilted my head as I looked up at him. “Scarily like Brian May.”

He chuckled. “That’s good, then. They won’t fire me anytime soon. I’ll see you on set?”

I nodded and watched him go. I felt a little disappointed by the fact that he was leaving. I had really enjoyed talking to him. The next time I’d see him would be on set for the scene, where we wouldn’t be able to talk, and then once that ended I’d never see him again.

The stylist started going my hair and makeup. She showed me a picture of Brian and his wife in the early 80s, which was when the scene was set, as the inspiration for my look in the scene. It was subtle, but it was clearly 80s. It didn’t take as long as Gwilym’s had, and soon enough, I was on my way again.

I stepped out of the trailer just as Gwilym was walking up again. He was now in his costume, looking so much like a young Brian May that it was scary.

“Right on time,” he said. “I was coming back to walk you to set.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” I said, but I was touched by the offer.

“I didn’t have to, but I wanted to, so I am.” He offered an arm to me, like a gentleman. I took it and we started walking to set. “Besides, it’s a big scene with a lot of people. It might be nerve wracking to walk on set by yourself with all those people.”

“It is. Especially with meeting the rest of the main cast at the same time.”

“Oh, they’re all a bunch of wankers, you don’t have to worry about meeting them.”

I giggled. “You can’t say that about Brian May and Roger Taylor, though. And they’re going to be on set, too.”

“No, you’re right. But they are very kind. You don’t have to worry about meeting them. I’m sure everyone will like you. Even if they didn’t, who cares? You won’t have to see them again after today.”

He had a point, but it was still sad to hear out loud. I had been preparing for this day for so long, excited for my first big project. And now, within a matter of hours, it would all be over. I’d be sent back home, waiting for the next role to come up, hoping that maybe this movie could help with that role being a bigger one than just an extra. Back to my normal, boring life.

Saying goodbye to Gwilym.

I had managed to shock myself with that thought. I had only known Gwilym for maybe an hour and a half, but the thought of only having this day with him brought on a bit of sadness. He was so kind, and he seemed so genuine. I had never been on a set where the main actors even acknowledged that the extras existed, let alone be nice enough to walk one to set after talking to her for some time.

Not to mention he was extremely handsome. Especially when he smiled, like he was smiling at me now.

God, don’t develop a crush on the guy you’ll never see again after today.

My heart rate jumped the second we walked on to set. Gwilym wasn’t lying when he said there was going to be a lot of people in the scene. The mansion set was packed with people, so full that there was just barely enough room to move around. I was hoping this was the only amount of extras that were set to be in the scene, or else I think my nerves would go into over drive.

The director spotted Gwilym and I almost immediately and led us over to where we were set to be for the scene. Rami, Joseph, and Ben were already sat around having a laugh as we walked up. They happily greeted Gwilym, and he then introduced me to the lot of them. They were very nice and welcomed me in almost immediately, but it was still pretty surreal to be there with them. Especially Joseph, who I had seen in Jurassic Park when I was just a kid. I almost felt out of place there, but I could tell I wasn’t alone. I introduced myself to the other girls who were playing Ben and Joseph’s on screen love interests, who also looked just as out of place as I felt.

We were all sat around together when the buzz in the room suddenly turned into a hush. It wasn’t hard to know what had just happened: they had arrived.

Brian May and Roger Taylor themselves.

Rock and roll royalty.

I looked over and my heart leapt into my throat at the sight of them. It was hard to believe that they were actually real. I had been listening to Queen’s music all my life, but it wasn’t until this moment that I truly realized that these legends were actual real people.

Actual real people who were walking towards us.

I jumped when I felt a hand on my arm. I looked over to see that it was Gwilym’s hand. When I looked at him, he smiled. I couldn’t help but smile back, the nervousness in my stomach being replaced with butterflies. His hand moved down my arm and squeezed my own. I squeezed his hand back.

“My God.”

I looked up to see Brian and Roger stood over us. I tried to put on my best smile, hoping it wasn’t as obvious as I felt it was that I was shaking. Brian was looking between Gwilym and I, a look in his eye that I couldn’t quite place. Reminiscent, maybe?

“They did a spot on job casting for this movie,” Brian commented. “It feels like I’m looking into a mirror with you two.”

“If there mirror were about 50 years younger,” Roger teased.

“You speak from experience, don’t you old man?” Brian retorted. I couldn’t help but chuckle at their banter. Years of friendship and knowing one another, and they were still cracking jokes and poking fun. I hoped to be like them with my friends when I got older. “What’s your name, love?”

It took me a moment to realize he was talking to me. I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. In fact, there was nothing going on in my head at all. It was like I had completely forgotten every little thing I had ever learned in my life. How does one continue to function after Brian May calls them “love”?

“This is (Y/N),” Gwilym said, saving me from my colossal choke.

“Yes,” I finally managed. “Sorry, my name is (Y/N). I’m a little nervous.”

“Nothing to be nervous about, darling,” Brian said. “You already have the look of my wife down. And it seems you and young Gwilym here have already gotten quite acquainted.”

I didn’t realize that Gwilym and I were still holding hands. I expected him to let go at that moment, as if he were just realizing as well, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept hold of my hand, giving it another reassuring squeeze. I wondered if the blush on my face was noticeable under the makeup.

The director called for places, so Brian and Roger took their places off set. I let out a sigh of relief after they were gone and moved into place with Gwilym.

“See?” he whispered to me as we were passed glasses of fake champagne. “They’re not that bad.”

“Their presence alone is a little terrifying,” I whispered back.

“But you got through it. Seems Brian’s taken a liking to you. Although, that’s not surprisingly considering how lovely you are.”

I was convinced this was all some sort of very long, very detailed dream. I was going to wake up at any given moment.

The scene went by very smoothly. It wasn’t hard to just look between the boys as they spoke, smiling when I was supposed to smile, offering a sour look when Rami arrived, acting as a rather rude Freddie. It felt like Gwilym was moving closer to me with each take that we did. First we started off sitting in separate chairs, until the director asked if we would switch and sit in the couch that Joseph and his lady friend had been sat in. Gwilym had moved towards me at the start of that take, and by the final take of the day our bodies were touching and his arm was around me. I was glad I didn’t have any lines, or else I would’ve likely forgotten every single one of them.

When the director called cut and said it was a wrap on the scene, I tried not to let my sadness show. The extras started to file out of the room, going to get read for a different scene that they were filling for. Not me, though. I was going to wardrobe to get my outfit taken back, and then I was going home. If I was lucky, I would be invited to the premiere, otherwise I would never see any of these people again.

I wouldn’t see Gwilym again.

Ben, Joseph, and Rami were kind enough to give me a hug and tell me they were happy to have met me. I told them likewise and started my way back to the wardrobe trailer.

“(Y/N)! Wait!”

I turned to see Gwilym rushing up towards me.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for your next scene?” I asked him.

“Yes, but I wanted to talk to you before you left,” he said. “Look, I know this is a bit presumptive to ask because we only really spoke to one another for that time in hair and makeup, and I have no idea if you’re even single so maybe I’m about to make an ass out of myself, but I wanted to ask you if you’d like to go out this evening once I’ve finished on set.”

Everything in my brain? Gone.

Every last bit of it.

Gone.

I couldn’t believe this was happening. It had to be a dream, right? There was no way it was real. I would’ve pinched myself if it wouldn’t have made me look like a total idiot in front of Gwilym.

“Yes,” I said. “ I mean, yeah, sure, I - I would love that.”

His face lit up. “Yeah? Okay. Here, let me give you my number.”

We both realized we didn’t have our phones, so we had to do it the old fashioned way - Gwilym found a pen and paper, and wrote down his number for me. I took the paper and shoved it into my pocket.

“I’ll text you once I’m no longer part of the 80s,” I said, gesturing towards my outfit.

He chuckled. “And I’ll do the same.”

We both stood, just looking at each other for a moment. It wasn’t until Gwilym was called back to set that we finally, reluctantly, broke away to go out separate ways. I put my hand in my pocket and closed it around the piece of paper containing Gwilym’s number. I smiled to myself, having to restrain myself from skipping happily towards wardrobe.

I guess history really does repeat itself, I thought with a laugh.

[jahayla-parker]

My Wife! : Freddy Carter x Reader

Description: 3k wc, Freddy and his wife watch his Vanity Fair interview and y/n tried to answer all the questions. Based on this interview/video FLUFF.

Warnings: a few curse words, use of the word God in a non religious manner (aka “Oh my God”), brief mentions of being sick, food discussed, spillers for answers to the questions in the above interview, otherwise flufffff

Note: credit to @/TeamFreddyUK on Instagram for finding the still of Freddy in Wonder Woman 🙌🏆

“Are you ready?” Freddy smirked, shaking the television remote in his hand tauntingly.

Y/n held her head high and nodded, “ready”.

He laughed and sat beside her on the couch as he queued up the video in question.

The other day Freddy had an interview with Vanity Fair where they held a trivia game about the guests.

Joining Freddy in the interview were cast-mates Ben, Kit, Amita, and Jessie.

The video dropped today and Y/n commented that she would easily beat Freddy in the trivia game for each cast member.

Freddy agreed to be in control of the video, pausing it after the questions so she couldn’t rely on the others answers to form hers.

Freddy pressed start on the video before grabbing her hand.

As the video began, the cast started by introducing themselves.

Which prompted Y/n to mimic their voices as they did their intros.

“Biiin Barnes” she mocked as Ben introduced himself.

Freddy glanced over at her as he laughed.

“Amita Suman” y/n whispered in an overly soft and cutesy way.

Freddy shook his head but kept watching her.

“Jessie Mei Li” she stated in a very confident fashion.

“Kit Young” y/n mocked, her body language confident and tone very serious.

“Freddy Carter” she teased with a thicker British accent than she did with the others.

“Do I truly sound like that to you?” Freddy laughed, his eyes slightly widening.

“Do I truly sound like that to you?” Y/n repeated with her fake Freddy voice, making them both laugh loudly.

“Okay shush! I gotta test my knowledge!” Y/n exclaimed in her normal voice.

Freddy playfully rolled his eyes as he hit resume.

Ben asked his cast mates what his perfect night out would be.

Y/n hummed, “something calm”.

After Freddy resumed the video, Ben gave his answer; dinner with friends and music.

“Does that count?“ y/n asked, looking over at her husband.

“No” Freddy chuckled.

“Fine, next” she huffed exasperatedly.

Ben then asked what age he started working in a bar.

Freddy was late to pause the video so his own suspected answer -14- was given before she could respond.

Y/n turned to him, “what!? 14? That can let be legal Freddy”.

“Shut up, what’s your answer?” he laughed.

“I’ll say 17 because 18 is your guys’ legal drinking age, and the question being asked suggests it was slightly less” she concluded.

“That’s why I said 14” he defended.

“I said slightly, Freddy” y/n corrected him while laughing.

The next question asked what musician Ben would choose to do a duet with.

“Freddie Mercury” y/n answered just as he paused the video.

Freddy glared at her, “thief”.

“Beg your pardon?” She scoffed.

Instead of responding, Freddy played the video and it showed he too said Freddie Mercury as his answer, making her laugh.

Ben then asked what his love language was.

Y/n smiled, “Oh, Ben’s? Physical touch for sure”.

Freddy laughed as he resumed the video to show her that everyone said the same thing.

As it switched to Amita’s turn, the camera caught Freddy messing with his hair.

“Oh my gosh, you and that hair! You can’t stop touching it” she teased, recalling the way it would drive him crazy when it would randomly tickle his face.

“Me?! Look who is talking! That is a bit hypocritical, love” Freddy smirked.

Y/n shrugged, reaching over and playing with his hair, “it’s mine, I can touch it when I want”.

“Yours? Is it now? Here I was thinking it was mine” Freddy retorted.

Y/n removed her hand from his hair dramatically and turned away, “hmmpf fine, I shall not touch it anymore”.

Freddy rolled his eyes but didn’t cave in immediately.

However, as Amita read off her first question, asking how long it took her to learn acrobatics and y/n began to think, Freddy began to pout.

“Ooh she told me this one!… Four sessions” y/n stated.

When Freddy didn’t resume the video, she turned to him in confusion, “Freddy? Was I right?! Play the video.”

Freddy silently shook his head and gave her a dramatic pout.

“What is-“ she questioned before pausing, “oh my gosh, is this about your hair?”

This time it was Freddy who turned away dramatically.

Y/n rolled her eyes with a smile and leaned over despite him playfully leaning away.

She laughed while rubbing his head.

“See, I told you you couldn’t keep your hands off my hair” Freddy smirked, spinning back to her.

Freddy saw she was gonna move her hand away so he clasped his hand over it, “kidding! It’s yours, all of me is yours; now please keep doing that”.

Y/n giggled and shifted before signaling for him to come closer and sit in front of her.

He complied and lowered himself to the floor before the couch so she could see over his head to see the screen.

Freddy tilted his head back as she played with his hair, giving her a wide grin before he faced the television again.

He hummed to himself as he played the video.

Amita then asked what animal she would be.

“Easy, bunny” y/n joked, “no, kidding! Koala”.

“Ooh, that’s a good one” Freddy commented, his voice light with bliss that came from her playing with his hair.

The next question was what Amita’s favorite vacation place would be.

“Her bed?“ y/n laughed.

Freddy chuckled as he resumed the video to show she was correct, “you’re doing very well so far”.

“Why thank you handsome” she grinned.

He brought his head back again and squeezed his eyes while giving her big smile.

She paused her fingers but left them in his hair as she lowered her lips down to his nose briefly.

Y/n smiled as he blushed and looked back to the video.

“Now comes the real challenge” he declared.

“What?” She giggled, “isn’t this whole th-“

“Oh!” Y/n laughed as she noticed it was his turn to read questions.

“Okay!” she cheered, letting go of his hair and cracking her knuckles.

His head snapped back and he laughed loudly, “oh my gosh”

“Let’s go now, press play” she ordered.

He smirked and complied.

“What or who is my favorite subject to photograph?” On-screen-Freddy asked.

“Ooh I know, people! Portraits” she clarified, smiling confidently.

“Is that your final answer, Mrs. Carter?” Freddy asked, not looking back at her.

“Ummm! Don’t ask it like that! Don’t try and trick me. Yes, final answer” she declared.

“My wife” Jessie blurted when Freddy resume the video, making y/n giggle softly.

“People, yes! Oh.. my gosh Freddy!” she cried, seeing his ‘my wife’ part of the answer he wrote before Jessie’s comment.

“Hey” she cooed, reaching back down for his hair, making him tilt back to see her with a smile and blush covering his face.

Y/n played with hair for all of three seconds before leaping back and hopping off the bed to join him on the floor.

Freddy watched with silent interest as she knelt beside him.

“I love you” she whispered very sincerely, placing her lips on his, “so. Damn. Much.”

Freddy grinned, his blush even darker as he hooked his arms around her back, “I love you too”.

Y/n shook her head, “clearly. I mean-“.

She looked away shyly as she felt tears starting to form.

“Love?” He asked trying to turn her head back to him.

“Are you crying?” He asked with a small chuckle.

She nodded and wiped her face.

“Oh, darling,” he cooed, guiding her face to him with a little more tender pressure this time, “shhh, you don’t need to cry”.

“You’re just so precious, Freddy” she sniffled, snuggling into his chest.

Freddy chuckled softly, his lips pressed to the top of her head, “says the beautiful woman crying over my answer and curling into my chest”.

She hummed against him, one hand sneaking up to play with his hair since she knew he liked it.

To be fair she loved it too but she felt she needed to do something for him after that answer.

“Shhhh love, come on, you’ve got more questions to answer“ he teased, helping her turn so she was seated between his legs now.

She nodded, pressing her back against his chest as he hooked his arms around her and rested his legs on the outside of hers.

When he pressed play, the video naturally went back a few seconds.

This meant she rewatched his sweet answer and now noticed the dashingly radiant smile he had when showing it and saying ‘my wife’.

She verbally awed, unconsciously leaning back into him more.

Freddy smiled to himself and shook his head, “as if you didn’t know”.

“I mean, I know you like taking photos of me, but I wasn’t expecting to be the answer” she admitted.

He pressed his lips to her head, “well now you know”.

She held onto the hand he had around her waist, her head resting on his collar bone as he again played the video.

“If I could steal anything in the world without consequence what would I steal?” Video-Freddy asked.

She whined, “You’re too cute to steal”.

“I don’t think that’s how the law works” he teased.

“It is if I say it is” she huffed.

Freddy chuckled, “Just because you rule my world, darling, doesn’t mean you rule everyone else’s too”.

“Stop saying such cute things Freddy,” she gasped, playfully slapping his chest, “I can’t keep up!”

He giggled and kissed her while he had chance since she was looking back at him.

“Real answer?” He asked, pulling back.

She licked her lip as she thought intently.

“Mmm, a very Kaz answer would be everyone’s money” she giggled.

He nodded, “Is that your answer then?”

“Yes,” she nodded back, turning towards the screen to wait for the actual answer.

“All the money” on-screen-Freddy said.

Y/n cheered, “Yes, I got it! You adorable little thief”.

“What superhero movie was I in?” Freddy asked in the video.

Before Freddy even had the chance to pause the video y/n shouted “Oh easy, Wonder Woman!”

He laughed loudly, “you don’t need to yell.”

“I was excited” she giggled with a shrug.

“Amita!” Y/n exclaimed as Amita admitted she hadn’t seen him in it.

Then the video showed Freddy saying “my poor mum has watched it so many times trying to spot me, but I can’t even spot myself”

Y/n gasped and turned to him, “are you serious?”

Freddy laughed and nodded.

“That’s unacceptable, I need to help her, hold on. Don’t press play” y/n ordered, pulling out her cellphone.

“Wait, what? You’ve spotted me?” He asked in complete shock.

She nodded as she began typing on her phone.

“And you’re showing my mum first?” Freddy teased, still in disbelief she had found him in the movie.

“Course I am” she smirked, “I’ll help you next”.

Freddy chuckled, “I still can’t believe you spotted me, there’s no way”.

“Don’t you dare go doubting me, Freddy” y/n warned.

“Love, I’ve seen it like a thousand times-“ he informed her.

He cut himself off when she showed him the still she took from the film.

“Bloody hell! How did you-?!” He gasped as he took her phone in order to better see the photo of him.

“Love seriously, how’d you manage that?” Freddy questioned.

She giggled and looked away bashfully.

“Woah, where’d that confidence go?” he teased.

“No truly,” Freddy tilted her head to him, “tell me?”

She bit her lip as her face flushed, “so ummm… Okay, when we first started dating and you mentioned being in it, I rewatched it to find you”.

He nodded, keeping his eyes soft due to her visible nerves but he was still clearly intrigued.

“And well, I was so embarrassed that I couldn’t” she laughed and chewed on her lip, “I felt horrible that I couldn’t spot you”

Freddy chuckled and shook his head as he stroked her cheek.

“So I kept watching over and over, until y/f/n suggested I slow down the playback speed and I then went nearly frame by frame” she bashfully admitted.

Freddy stared at her with such admiration, love, and disbelief.

“Darling I - “ he was now the one to tear up, “I can’t believe you did all that”

She bit into her bottom lip and nodded, “I was so mad at myself for not finding you”.

Freddy chucked softly as she reached up to wipe his eyes as he’d done to hers esrlier, “you didn’t need to do that”

“I had to find you Freddy” she argued.

“Love, if you had mentioned it, I would’ve told you I couldn’t even find myself” he laughed, still staring at her in honored disbelief.

“I’m truly honored you went through all that for me, especially so early on” he blushed.

“You’re special” y/n shrugged.

Freddy shook his head and pulled her tightly to him, “fuck, I love you”.

She hummed against his chest and sent a muffled I love you back.

“No more tears blocking those beautiful ocean blue eyes,” she shook her head wiping his tears again.

He flushed darker and chuckled softly.

Y/n kissed his cheek before spinning around to see the screen.

She rested her left hand on his hand that was around her, Freddy turning his palm so he could rub his finger against her wedding ring band.

Y/n leaned into his embrace as he pressed play.

“Wait, you made me forget!” She panicked, grabbing her phone to finish the text to Freddy’s mom.

He watched and waited until she was done before he pressed play again.

“If I could only eat one meal for the rest of my life what would it be?” He asked in the interview.

“Brunch” she nodded confidently.

Freddy chuckled, “that’s creative, but not the question, love”.

“Ugh fine. Hold on don’t tell me” she turned to see him smirking as if she’d never get it; making her even more adamant to get it now.

Suddenly her face dropped in realization before she smirked and shook her head, “if you said peanut butter on toast, I swear to God”.

He laughed and pressed play.

“Ayyyee, Kit stole my first answer; see it counts!” She declared.

When the camera panned to show his official answer was in fact peanut butter on toast, y/n groaned.

“Freddy, that’s so lame” she teased.

“Hey now!” He argued.

She laughed, “I knew you’d say that, you and that stupid peanut butter”.

He chuckled, “it’s comforting, and you know why”.

He was right, the reason she knew his answer was because they’d talked about similar concepts before and he gave that same answer. When she asked why, he told her it was because he found it comforting.

Freddy went on to explain that it was due to how she had made it for him when he was really sick fairly early on in their relationship.

He had been craving bread but she knew he also needed some kind of protein.

But he hadn’t been able to keep much down so she knew he couldn’t handle meat or other heavy things so she’d opted for peanut butter on his requested toast .

Freddy told her it was one of his favorite memories and swears it cured the illness he had.

“And, as precious as that is, it’s so simple, gorgeous” she giggled.

He just smiled and shrugged, blushing as she kissed his cheek while he resumed the video.

Kit asked everyone what his go-to karaoke song would be.

“Something John Legend” y/n answered.

“I’ll give you it” Freddy said as he resumed the video and Kit answered ‘Ordinary People’.

She smiled back at him before waiting for the next question.

“What desert would he be? Who came up with these questions?” Y/n giggled, “I mean, ice-cream, obviously; but, still”.

Freddy laughed, the movement shaking her slightly and hit play.

“Far too easy, next- oh, strawberry” she added as Kit asked what flavor of ice-cream.

Kit asked what his favorite scene to shoot in season 1 was.

“Gun spinning. Oh, no! The goat! Milo!” She exclaimed.

Freddy laughed at her enthusiasm.

“Yes, I got it! But awe, you two are so cute” y/n commented when Kit mentioned how the scene Freddy suggested had been their chemistry read and was therefore important to him. 

“What do my parents call me?” Jessie asked.

“Ooh Jason right (authors note: j-sun, other variation? idk sorry)?” Y/n attempted.

Freddy hummed in agreement as he resumed the video.

“What type of influencer would I be?” Jessie smiled.

“Ooh, social activists or like environmental causes” y/n answered loudly.

“Yay!” She cheered, having gotten the question correct.

Freddy smiled to himself as he watched her enjoy herself.

“Her stage debut was All About Eve, right?” Y/n wondered.

“Correct” Freddy acknowledged.

“Damn love, you did remarkable” he complimented.

She grinned, “I know my man and friends, what can I say?”

He laughed and pulled her closer to him until she tilted head back to stare up at him with a smile on her face.

——

Freddy had his arms around her as they laid in bed, his arm reaching out momentarily in order to turn off the side lamp.

As he turned back to her, he saw the thoughtful look her eyes held.

“What is it?” he asked quietly.

She spun slightly to see him better, “I still can’t get over it.”

“Over what?” Freddy wondered.

“Your answer” she said.

He chuckled, “I stick by the peanut butter toast, alright?”

She giggled “no Freddy, the photography one”.

“Oh, the one where I said, ‘my wife’?” He clarified.

She grinned over hearing it yet again.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over hearing you say that in-and-of itself,” she admitted contently, “But seriously, that was so sweet”

“This coming from the person who holds the record for most times a single person has watched Wonder Woman, all just to find my two second appearance to support me” Freddy pointed out.

Y/n giggled softly and snuggled into him as she closed her eyes, “gotta support my man. Goodnight gorgeous“

Freddy blushed and kissed the top of her head, holding her tighter, “Goodnight to my wife”.

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Tag list: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r

[nausicaamusiclover20]

I have an idea but it’s not very happy end-y and I’m not sure if you are ok with including a musician who’s not in Metallica… anyway I’ll submit but it’s your blog, your rules so if it’s not your cup of tea, just ignore it, no offense)))

I was thinking Lars x reader where she’s his childhood friend but he never noticed her feelings, always chasing the girls who are traditionally “hot”. So she gives up and maybe get a job as an lawyer for Guns n Roses (with all the staff Axl pulled out, I’m quite sure they needed someone like that at every concert) and she and Slash get together? He even slows down on drugs and they get married? And she and Lars meet again at Freddie Mercury tribute concert and he asks her for a date (cause he realized everything after all) but she’s like “sorry, too late, I’m married?”

It may sound strange, but I like the stories with a sad ending. Apart from that, I can write for guns n roses ( they were my first rock band and have a special place in my heart) so if you have any request about them, don’t hesitate to ask. Having said that, I hope you like it❤

Goodbye, my first love

I had always been in the background. Growing up, I was the girl next door—the one who played tag with Lars Ulrich, the one who stayed up late talking about our dreams, our fears, and everything in between. I was his childhood friend, the girl who could always make him laugh. But no matter how many times I tried to hint at my feelings, he was oblivious, chasing after the “hot girls” who caught his eye.

In those early days, I wore my heart on my sleeve, hoping one day he’d turn around and see me for more than just a friend. We’d sit in his garage, surrounded by the cacophony of his drum practice, and I’d watch him with a mix of admiration and longing. The way he immersed himself in music, the passion in his eyes—it was intoxicating. But he was too busy flirting with girls who had long legs and flashy outfits to notice the girl sitting right beside him, the one who cheered the loudest at his concerts.

As we grew older, I realized that I was falling for him in a way that transcended friendship. I loved his wild laugh, the way he lit up when talking about his favorite bands, and the depth of his kindness. But every time he brought home a new girlfriend, it felt like another piece of my heart shattered. I was always supportive, cheering him on as he chased after one beautiful girl after another, even as I quietly wished he’d look my way.

Eventually, the weight of my unreciprocated feelings became too heavy to bear. I decided to put my energy into something more productive—my career. I immersed myself in my studies and eventually became a lawyer. My job with Guns N' Roses felt like a dream come true, a whirlwind of rock and roll chaos. For the first time, I felt like I was carving out my own identity.

In the midst of that whirlwind, I found a deeper connection with Slash. He was different from Lars—mature, grounded, yet still playful in his own right. Our late-night conversations evolved from casual banter to heartfelt discussions. He became my confidant, the one who understood my struggles, both personal and professional.

One night, after a particularly chaotic concert, Slash opened up about his own battles. “You know, it hasn’t been easy,” he said, leaning against a wall backstage, his voice low. “The drugs, the parties... it all gets overwhelming sometimes.” His vulnerability shocked me, and I felt a surge of compassion for him.

“It must be tough,” I said softly. “But I admire how hard you’re trying to make a change.”

“I’m working on it,” he replied, a hint of determination in his eyes. “But it’s been a struggle. I don’t want to let the band down, or you.”

“Slash, you’re not alone in this. I’m here for you,” I said, taking his hand. “You can talk to me anytime. You deserve to find peace, and I want to help however I can.”

In that moment, I realized how much I cared for him. I admired his strength and the way he was trying to rise above his struggles. With my support, he began to slow down, finding healthier ways to cope. When he proposed, it felt like my past had finally been put to rest. I had moved on from Lars, embracing the life I had built with Slash—a life filled with love, understanding, and mutual support.

---

Now, standing at the Freddie Mercury tribute concert, my heart raced with a mix of excitement and nostalgia. Slash was beside me, his arm wrapped around my waist, the warmth of his body grounding me in the electric energy of the crowd.

“Ready for this?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

“Absolutely! It’s going to be amazing,” I replied, feeling a thrill run through me. I couldn’t wait to soak in the music and celebrate the life of an icon.

As we made our way through the throngs of fans, I spotted a familiar figure in the distance—Lars. My breath caught in my throat as memories rushed back, flooding my mind with echoes of laughter and shared secrets. He hadn’t changed much; his wild hair and infectious energy were still unmistakable. But there was something different about him—a maturity that hadn’t been there before. I felt a strange mix of nostalgia and apprehension.

“Hey, I’ll grab us some drinks,” Slash said, giving me a soft kiss on the forehead before slipping into the crowd. I watched him go, my heart swelling with love, but my attention was quickly pulled back to Lars, who was now walking toward me.

“Y/N?” he said, disbelief etched across his features.

“Lars! Wow, it’s been a while!” I replied, forcing a smile that felt a bit shaky.

“You look incredible,” he said, genuine surprise in his eyes. “I didn’t know you were working with Guns N' Roses!”

“I am,” I said, a hint of pride slipping into my voice. “I’m their lawyer now. It’s been a wild ride.”

“Wow, that’s amazing! You were always the smart one,” he said, his tone nostalgic.

“Thanks,” I replied, brushing off the compliment. I could feel the air thickening between us, an unspoken tension that stirred old emotions I thought I had buried. “And you? Still drumming up a storm with Metallica?”

“Yeah, you know it,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “We’ve been working on some new stuff. It’s exciting.”

“I can only imagine,” I said, trying to keep the conversation light, but memories of our past hung heavy in the air. “It’s great to see you doing well.”

“Thanks! And what about you? It’s nice to see you’ve found your place in all of this,” he replied, nodding toward the stage, where the atmosphere crackled with energy.

“Yeah, it’s been amazing,” I said, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “I love being part of this world.”

Lars looked at me for a moment, his expression shifting. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About how I never really saw you, you know? Back when we were kids.”

My heart raced at his words. “Lars, I—”

“Would you want to grab dinner sometime?” he blurted out, his eyes wide with hope. “I’d love to catch up more. Just the two of us.”

The question hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. Memories of my long-held feelings for him rushed back, but they were tinged with the realization of how far I’d come. I glanced over to where Slash was chatting with some friends, a smile on my face as I thought about the life we had built together.

“Lars,” I said softly, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I’m really flattered, but... I can’t. I’m married.”

His expression shifted, surprise and disappointment flickering across his features. “Married?”

“Yeah,” I replied, gesturing toward Slash. “To him.”

As Lars turned to look at Slash, a wave of realization washed over him. I could see the gears turning in his mind as he took a step back, a mix of regret and longing in his eyes. “I didn’t know,” he said quietly.

“It’s okay,” I reassured him. “I’m really happy, Lars. Slash and I have built something special together.”

He nodded slowly, the weight of the moment settling around us. “I’m glad you’re happy, Y/N. You deserve it.”

“Thank you, Lars,” I said, meeting his gaze. “And I hope you find happiness too. You deserve it too.”

He smiled softly, the tension between us easing just a bit. “I guess I just—”

“I know,” I interrupted gently. “You didn’t see it back then. But I’ve moved on, and I’m grateful for where I am now.”

Just then, Slash returned, drinks in hand, his presence a grounding force. “Everything good here?” he asked, slipping his arm back around my waist.

“Yeah, just catching up,” I said, forcing a smile.

“Nice to see you, man,” Slash said to Lars, who gave a tight smile in return.

As we turned to watch the stage, I felt a sense of closure enveloping me. The past was behind me, a collection of memories that shaped who I was but didn’t define me anymore. I was exactly where I was meant to be, right here, with Slash at my side.

The music swelled around us, and I leaned into Slash, feeling the warmth of his body against mine. I stole a glance at Lars, who was watching the performance with a contemplative expression, and I realized we had both moved on.

Sometimes, love takes unexpected paths, and it was in that realization that I found peace.

[likesomekindofcheese]

headcanons for comforting the Queen boys when they’re crying?

AWWWWW. I really like this!

Freddie:

You would catch those odd moments of his emotions. He would be alone and tears would be streaming down his face despite his smile. You hardly knew what and when you asked, he did not reply. “Darling, I can’t talk about it now...”

 “It’s alright, Fred, you don’t have to tell me!” you insist.

You lean his head close to you so that he lens against your shoulder and let him cry it out.

Roger:

Roger was always the cheerful one. He would rarely get sad, truly, truly sad. But when it did, it broke your heart. He was shaking and rubbing the tears off with his sleeve.

“Here...shhhh” You would say.

 You let him hug you- and he does on tightly. His fingers pressing into your skin desperately. So deeply, you are sure there are marks. You would suggest doing something like going out for dinner, drinks, and/or a movie. An activity out there to get his mind off.

Brian:

Brian was the most melancholy of the four boys. Seeing him cry, and cry hard-wiping off tears with his wrist and scrunching his face, made you wish to mourn with him. You would let him lay down and let his head fall on your lap like a child.

“What is it today, Bri? What has my boy upset?” you ask lovingly.

He would tell you all about it and you would comfort him. It becomes a long session, sometimes into wee hours of the night talking. You then make sure he gets some sleep-tucked in beneath blankets and safe as a babe.

Deaky:

Deaky was an ugly crier. His face would curl up and he would sob it. You hold him, trying not to be shaken as his own body heaved with sobs. He trusted you enough to tell you everything, feeling every wave and crash of his own sadness. Once alone, he would then open up to tell you, not without stuttering and tears. once he was done, you would hug and hold him. Even singing little lullabies and songs to lull him to calmness.

“Hush little baby, don’t say a word,

Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird...”

Taglist: @queenlover05 @yourlocalmusicalprostitute

[thelastdj]

Dinner With The Parents

Pairing: Brian May x reader

Genre: I have no clue. Just read.

Summary: (y/n) and Brian are having dinner with his parents, but they are badgering the couple with questions about the future. Specifically: children.

Warning: Smoking, maybe cursing. I didn't proofread. Also I wrote this in an hour so its not the best.

masterlist

“And look here,” the elderly woman shoved another picture in (y/n)’s face, “Brian’s cousin just had a little daughter.”

“Ah, congratulations.”

“Isn’t she sweet?”

“Very.” (y/n) shot him a desperate look.

“So, Dad,” Brian tried to change the topic, “How's work?”

“Work is good.” he replied curtly, “(y/n), do you know how great children are?”

“I- uh, I wouldn’t know” she said, and took a long drink of wine.

“Well, they are. You get to watch them grow up, growing to become such amazing people. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you helped shape them to be like that.”

(y/n) nodded and gave a polite smile. “The meal was delicious Mrs. May.”

“Thank you dear.” She smiled, “Oh, Brian, did you hear? Jeff Robinson had a son last week.”

“Who?”

“You remember Jeff. He was in your year in school.”

“Oh, Jeff. Right.”

“(y/n)?” His father asked.

“Yes?”

“You and Brian have been together for quite some time now.”

“Three years.” She replied, shooting him a quick smile.

“Have you two ever thought of starting a family? Or at least getting married?”

“Um, we're both too busy with work right now to think of children…” she trailed off.

“(y/n)? Are you alright dear? You look a little queasy.” his mother asked when her eyes fell on (y/n), who indeed looked like she was going to be sick.

“I- yeah, I’m fine.” she said absentmindedly. “Do you mind if I grab some fresh air?”

“Of course darling.”

“Thanks.”

(y/n) got up and quietly headed out the side door. A beat passed and Brian turned to look at his parents.

His expression must have been pretty sour, because his mother raised her eyebrows and asked, “What?”

“Why are you trying to pressure (y/n) and me into having children?”

“We’re not doing anything of that sort.”

“Yes you are. (y/n)’s been under a lot of pressure about having kids lately. Her family, the media and now you two. It’s clear that she doesn’t want children. And neither do I.”

His parents were quiet.

“I’m going to go and see if she’s alright. And when we come back, please refrain from all the family talk.”

•••

(y/n) stood in the shadows, leaning her back against the wall. The warm red glow of a cigarette was the only thing lighting her face. Smoke curled upwards into the air as she exhaled.

“Sorry,” she chuckled, catching him staring at the cigarette between her fingers, “Bad habit.”

“Are you alright darling?”

She gave a weak smile, “I’m fine. Just needed to calm down a bit.”

Brian walked over to her, leaning his back against the wall. A sigh escaped him.

(y/n) glances over to him, “You want a drag?”

Suddenly Brian felt tempted. Why? He didn’t know, but he accepted the offer, inhaling the smoke from the cigarette being held to his lips.

His throat burned as the smoke tried to fight its way out and Brian doubled over coughing. He must have looked pretty ridiculous because (y/n) started to giggle.

“You do this for fun?” he managed to gasp out.

That only made her laugh harder. It took a few moments before all the smoke had been expelled from his lungs.

“Are you okay?” (y/n) asked when his coughing had subsided.

Brian nodded, watching her take a final drag before throwing the cigarette onto the pavement and crushing it with the tip of her shoe.

“I’m sorry they were asking all those questions.” He said.

“It’s not your fault,” (y/n) sighed, “Besides, you’ll have to endure the same thing next week. My mom invited us to dinner on Sunday.”

“Lovely,” he deadpanned and (y/n) smiled sympathetically.

“Should we go back inside?” She suggested, “Your parents might get suspicious.”

Brian nodded and took (y/n)’s hand.

“After you,” he held open to the door and he followed (y/n) as she walked back inside.

“Ah, there you too are.” Brian’s mom exclaimed, “Are you feeling better, (y/n)?”

“Yeah, I think it was just a little vertigo. I’m fine.”

“How’s the album coming along, son?” His father asked after a short pause.

And for the rest of the evening, there were no more mentions of children.

•••

“You told them I didn’t want children, didn’t you?”

Brian glanced down at her, “Yes, I did. They were a bit disappointed, but they’ll accept it. I promise.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think that they believe that  if there’s a chance we’ll get married then there’s a chance that they will get grandchildren”

(y/n) laughed, “Do you think there’s a chance that we’ll get married?”

“I’m hoping there is.” He looked at her, “Is there?”

(y/n) smiled, “Yes there is. A very good one in fact.”

[anne-white-star]

Eddit : creddit for this meme to @beatlemaniac00

[thespiritoflife]

Pairing: Legolas x reader

Warnings: grammatical errors, mention of character's death, angst, sad,..

A/N: Probably you all know this beautiful song. I love this song even though it is sad. It inspired me to write this story. Elves live forever, right? And what if one of them (specifically Legolas) fell in love with a man?

Who wants to live forever?

Who wants to live forever?

At the beginning of his life, Legolas was glad that he could live forever.  He lived for incredibly many years.  He did not reveal his age to anyone, he kept it to himself.  But if anyone looked into his wise eyes, he saw old age and sadness.  Great sadness.

Years have passed.  Centuries have passed.  Millennia have passed.  And Legolas was still here and not old.

But it was terrible.  It was incredibly painful to see all his friends die.  To see how they got old, and finally died.  To see their descendants die.  And their descendants ... and he was still here.

At first, it was his faithful friend once called Aragorn, now the revered King Elessar.  He was with him as he was laying on the bed, dying slowly.  He saw that he was happy. He got happy life. And Legolas had to reconcile with this.

And then Gimli.  His beloved dwarf friend also left this world.

Legolas buried him at Glittering Caves.  He was crying softly. He kissed the top of the grave and whispered, "You are forever in my heart."

When Legolas was really old but still young in body, he left his kingdom and went to the mountains to live.

Aragorn's descendant once visited him.  He didn't even know exactly who his descendant was, but many, very many years passed after Aragorn's death.  His descendants also slowly became extinct.  However, this one lived.

This descendant was incredibly similar to Aragorn.  With his appearance and behavior.  It hurt Legolas when he saw him.

He wanted to see the famous Legolas Greenleaf, the friend of his ancient ancestor, who was very helpful to his father.  In everything.

"How did you find me?"  Legolas asked him.

"It was easy.. You love the mountains."

Legolas nodded silently.  He was no longer the same as in the days of Aragorn.  He changed.  Especially in the soul.

"Legolas," he asked cautiously.  "What happened to you?"

Legolas blinked sharply and sighed.  It was a sad sight.

"My dear visitor, believe me, you would not want to live forever. It would destroy you. Their deaths."

"Whose death?"

"My friends,"  he replied.

Aragorn's descendant looked at the beautiful portrait of the young woman in the frame.

"Who's this?"

Legolas just smiled sadly.

Y / N was one of the few women that Legolas loved.  They met long after the War of the Ring.  She was very young, but they still fell in love.

However, Y / N was a man.  She wasn't an elf.  She didn't live long.

Legolas knew it, he knew it, but he married her.  He loved her sincerely.  She changed his life.  After the death of his friends, the people he loved, he no longer believed he would find someone to love.  He didn't believe he would start smiling again.  To be happy.

But Y / N proved to him that it was possible.

Everything is possible.

They lived long and happily.  But Y / N slowly aged.

Once at her favorite river, where she used to swim, Y / N decided on old age to at least get her feet wet.  Legolas went with her.  It hurt him that everything hurt her ... but human life was like that.

She was wearing a long black dress.  She looked beautiful.  She died in his arms, in that river.

Legolas buried her on the shore of the river.

It destroyed Legolas.  They didn't even have children, although they wanted. Very much.

She just left.

When love must die!

Legolas also considered taking his own life and ending this affliction, but ... he knew Y / N wouldn't want it.  She would never forgive him that.

Life must go on.  And he believed he would meet her again.  There must have been some justice in this world.

Forever is our today...

[bitchysoulwasteland]

Hangman X Mercury!Daughter Reader

(A/n: Yet another one of my *insert a franchise* x queen band reader fics. I'm not even sorry for this. XD. It takes place modern day, so just imagine Live Aid now, basically. Also, for the sake of the fic, Jim Hutton will be an Admiral at Top Gun. Just go with it. Do not repost. Enjoy.)

The crowd roared as you, (your father) Freddie Mercury and your uncles, Brian May and John deacon, along with your godfather, Roger Taylor bowed. As you stood back up from the bow, the sound of a plane engine came overhead. You looked up and saw Jake's F-18 barrel rolling over Wembley Stadium. You laughed and shook your head and did a slight salute to him.

Five hours later, you walk into the Hard Deck and see the entire of the Dagger Squad crowded around a TV which was re-running Live Aid. You smirk when you see that everyone's eyes are glued to Queen's set, more specifically, your solo during Hammer To Fall.

"Damn, I look good onstage." you mutter to Penny as she hands you a beer and you give her the money. "Thanks." You see your other father, five-star admiral, Jim Hutton, call sign 'Bud'. You smile at him as you give a small salute.

"I say your performance, Y/n. I'm sorry I couldn't be there to see it." His soft, Irish accent came as a welcome, yet familiar, change as he pulled you in for a hug.

"It's fine, we c'n still see it. Apparently the BBC are still showing it." You say, gesturing to a TV, which had it on. Jake watched as you interacted with the Admiral. 'How the hell did you know him?' he thought before going back to watch you on the screen. He smirked as the concert set was finished and the sound of a plane thundered overhead. On the screen, you looked up and smiled, shaking your head before doing a mini salute. "I think that was quite a nice touch, personally." You say to your father who is sitting beside you and watching the screen. "Papa should be coming with the guys. I left just after they started talking to Mick Jagger."

"I think your pilot wants to talk with you, love." He said, gesturing to Jake, who had walked over. "I'll leave you two be." He walked to the outside tables and sat down.

"That was some move, Hangman." You smirked as he stood beside you.

"Glad you enjoyed it, sweetheart.” Jake responded as the Dagger Squad’s jaws dropped.

“Hi, um, I’m Y/n Mercury.”

“Thought you were going by Hutton-Mercury.” Phoenix piped up. She had been friends with you ever since you had ran into her the night you met Jake.

“Nah, Mercury on Stage, Hutton-Mercury for government shit a-“

“And Seresin everywhere else.” Jake whispered in your ear but you knew full well that everyone herd him.

“You ain’t put a ring on it, so I ain’t changing it yet.”

[benismyqueen]

HOME — Roger Taylor

Resumen: Cuando tus padres te echan de casa, sin trabajo y ningún tipo de dinero, tienes suerte de que dos personas casi tan locas como tú, decidan que seas su compañera de piso.

Advertencias: ninguna. Quizá un poco de angustia por disfunciones familiares. Y mucho amor por Freddie y Roger siendo domésticos.

Palabras: 1.506

"Amor, ¿crees que necesitarás esto?" Freddie saca del armario un vestido demasiado bonito de flores.

"Supongo que no. Es pleno invierno, necesito lo esencial, me están echando de casa, ¿recuerdas?" Abres la bolsa más grande que encuentras, en algún momento la usaste en tu viaje a holanda hace unos años.

"¡Pero es demasiado bonito!"

"Freddie, mi espacio es limitado, necesito ropa de invierno."

El moreno se deja caer en la cama con el vestido aún entre sus manos. No piensa rendirse sin luchar lo suficiente. Le parece increible que simplemente vayas a dejar ese vestido atrás.

"¿Y qué harás en verano?" Intenta razonar.

"No sé Freddie... Quizá pueda sacrificar alguno de mis pantalones y cortarlos." Consigues varios de tus jerseys más gordos y los metes en la bolsa, junto algunas camisetas y cuatro pantalones. Con un poco de imaginación puedes conjuntar esas prendas en unos ocho looks diferentes.

Freddie aprovecha que vuelves tu vista al armario para meter el vestido debajo de la ropa en la bolsa.

"¿Y dónde irás?"

"Freddie" Estás demasiado agobiada pensando en cosas óptimas que sean necesarias para tu supervivencia a partir de ahora. "Pensé que venías para ayudarme, no para agregar presión a mis hombros." Lo tomas de la mano para que se levante de la cama.

"Perdona. Solo me preocupo." Pasea su vista por tus baldas llenas de libros, vinilos, y cosas varias. "¿Llevarás algunos libros?"

"Supongo que los de la universidad. No creo que pueda llevar más." Metiendo tu neceser con tus productos de aseo, peines, y algo de maquillaje terminas de llenar la primera bolsa. "Quizá me lleve mi edición especial de Mujercitas."

"Tienes también la de Orgullo y Prejuicio, El Hobbit y tu colección de vinilos"

"Freddie..."

"Si, si, solo lo esencial"

Al final terminas sacando una mochila mediana y caes en la tentación de llevarte algunas libretas, una pequeña caja con tus recuerdos más simbólicos como fotos, collares, algunos pósters de cantantes que te gustan y una manta que te bordó tu abuela. Freddie no se puede resistir y carga en sus brazos tu colección de vinilos y los libros.

"¿Qué? Vas a dejarlos aquí... En mi casa nos hace falta decoración, estás invitada a venir y usarlo cuando quieras" Te ríes y echando un último vistazo a lo que era tu habitación, y cierras la puerta. "Entonces... ¿dónde pasarás la noche?"

"Supongo que podré ir a casa de mi amiga Lucy. Quizá me deje quedarme un par de días, hasta que encuentre un trabajo y un departamento."

"El trabajo está muy mal en Londres"

"Gracias Freddie"

"Los alquileres no son baratos" Salís a la calle siendo recibidos por el frío invierno.

"Freddie, necesito palabras de aliento no..."

"Ven a vivir conmigo"

Conociste a Freddie hace unos meses. Era verano, y acudiste con tus amigas a un pub, queríais beber un poco y pasar un buen rato. Pero tus amigas quizá bebieron demasiado, y terminaste sola en el pub, agobiada buscando a dos chicas borrachas.

Un hombre más o menos mayor, y borracho intentó sobrepasarse contigo en mitad de la pista de baile, realmente estabas angustiada y a punto de llorar cuando Freddie lo vió todo. Y con su aire de meterse en los asuntos que no son suyos, empujó al chico y le dió un puñetazo en la mandíbula. En ese momento pensaste que estabas muerta. Un chico delgado, demasiado alto y a primera vista afeminado acababa de golpear a un borracho que era dos veces él. Pero te sorprendieron sus golpes.

Una hora después mientras te invitó a una cerveza, (la odias, pero estaba siendo amable y oh dios, hacía meses que un chico guapo no te invitaba a nada), te contó sobre las clases de boxeo que tomó de niño. En ese momento aprendiste a no prejuzgar nunca más. Además de agradecerle por siempre que decidiese ayudar. Había mucha gente en ese pub que vió tu angustia y nadie hizo nada. Solo él.

"Soy un hombre criado por mi madre y mi abuela. Y crecí con mi hermana. Supongo que mi padre me hubiese golpeado si no tuviese respeto por las mujeres."

En ese momento sonreiste y lo supiste. Querías a ese hombre con tu vida.

"Nada comparado con la paliza de mi abuela, ella sí que sabe boxear" bromeó.

"¿Qué dices Freddie?" Te detienes en mitad de la calle con las dos enormes bolsas descansando en el suelo.

"Vamos... No tienes donde ir, el piso es pequeño, tendré que hacerte algo de espacio, podemos compartir cama, no creo que el sofá sea muy cómodo. Y no te cobraré alquiler, quizá solo saques la basura y limpies la cocina."

"Freddie..."

"Tengo un compañero de piso, es ruidoso, no tiene filtro y dice lo que piensa en todo momento, a veces toca la batería y sabe cocinar huevos cocidos. Es bastante divertido, ya te dije que tenías que conocerlo." Habla emocionado mientras toma una de tus bolsas, a pesar de llevar algunas de tus pertenencias en las manos. "Será divertido"

"No sé Freddie..."

"No creo que tengas más opciones..." Te mira con esos ojos y esa sonrisa tan bonita que tiene. Y sabe que te tiene en el bote.

"Supongo que os podría cocinar como compensación" Freddie grita cuando aceptas su propuesta y rápidamente tomáis un autobús hasta su casa.

El piso de Freddie es realmente pequeño, en eso no mentía. Lo primero que ves cuando abre la puerta es un pequeño pasillo, no entran dos personas a la vez, y después de ese medio metro de pasillo dónde tienen un perchero con varios abrigos, llegáis a un pequeño salón con un mueble, una televisión, un tocadiscos y dos sillones viejos acompañando un sofá. Está lleno de ropa, revistas, libretas y una guitarra apoyada en el suelo contra el sofá. A la derecha hay una cocina pequeña, y siguiendo el pasillo hay dos habitaciones, una a cada lado del pasillo, y al final un baño.

"No es demasiado increible." Freddie admite. "Pero somos felices aquí"

"Es increible Freddie" A pesar de ser una caja de zapatos y demasiado desordenada grita hogar por todas las esquinas.

"Te llevaré a mi habitación. Te dejaré dos cajones de mi cómoda y dos de mi armario. Conseguiré de nuestro mercadillo un burro para tu ropa. No creo que a Roger le importe"

Justo en ese momento la puerta del piso se abre, y entra una cabellera rubia con un cigarro entre sus labios. Cuando te ve casi deja caer el cigarro al suelo.

"¡Rog! Estás en casa" Freddie grita acercándose a su amigo.

"¿Qué es todo esto?" Pregunta viendo las bolsas en el suelo

"¡Tengo una nueva compañera de habitación!" En ese momento Roger tiene una expresión de sorpresa que hace que sientas pánico. Estoy en la calle, piensas.

"Freddie... ¿Podemos hablar?... En privado" Coge a su amigo por la chaqueta y lo empuja a la cocina.

En un principio te sientes un poco ofendida, pero lo entiendes. Freddie es una persona muy impulsiva, y puedes entender que a una persona normal no le haga mucha gracia llegar a su casa, y que su compañero de piso haya invitado a alguien a quedarse.

"¿Quién es ella?" Te hace gracia que aún con la puerta cerrada, el departamento es tan pequeño y con las paredes tan finas que puedes escuchar la conversación

"Es mi amiga Mackenzie"

"Eso no explica que sea nuestra nueva compañera de piso"

"Es mi compañera de habitación" Puntúa Freddie el acento en 'mi'.

"Es una habitación dentro del piso"

"Vale" Freddie se rinde. "Sus padres la han echado. Su situación es muy precaria, solo mira sus bolsas. Son solo dos, y una mochila con sus pertenencias.

A Roger no le tomó mucho empatizar contigo. Él se fue de casa en las mismas condiciones salvo que él quería independencia, a él nunca lo echaron. Pero sabe lo que es no tener medios y sufrir para llegar a final de mes.

"Solo... La próxima vez avísame cuando una chica guapa vaya a ser nuestra compañera de piso"

Cuando los chicos salen de la cocina, ambos tienen una sonrisa en sus rostros, y en ese momento te das cuenta de que puede que no tengas mucho, pero eres afortunada de tener un techo compartido, con una cama a medias con Freddie, y un chico con una sonrisa preciosa.

"Será bueno tener ayuda femenina en casa" En ese momento reparas en el chico rubio, no parece mucho más mayor que tú. Tiene una sonrisa preciosa y unos ojos azules que desprenden felicidad. "Soy Roger"

Extiende su mano hacia ti para que la tomes en un saludo.

"Mackenzie"

"Bueno Mackenzie" Roger pasa su brazo por tus hombros, acercándote a él "Cómo podrás ver somos unos desastres y nos cuesta mucho ganar dinero para pagar este apartamento tan pequeño, pero nos las arreglaremos." Toma una de tus bolsas para ayudarte a instalarte. "Bienvenida a la vida adulta, no es la gran cosa, pero nos lo pasaremos bien" Y cuando miras su sonrisa, le crees. Vivir con ellos será toda una aventura.

[somethinginrocknroll]

12, Queen

Hi Anon! Thank you for requesting lovie!

Save Me -Queen

Prompt: "If you hate me so much, kill me already. It's not like I have anything to live for."

Pairing: female Y/N & Queen members

TW: Depression

Word count: 1,236

Your the best friend of Brian May, you two were inseparable all through the 50s and 60s, but when Uni hit, you two barely saw each other. When his band Queen got big, Brian had asked you if you could be the bands official roadie. You have a degree in engineering, you're always fiddling with something, and Brian had assumed that this would be a great job for you since they always needed something to be fixed or tweaked. At first it was the best, you got to tour with your best mate, but as time went on the more your depression took upon you. You barely saw your family, and your friends drifted away from you, not to mention everyone around you started families. On top of everything, your the only girl on the road, so your surrounded by men and their fragile masculinity. You pretended everything was fine in front of Brian, but he knew and tried to make it easy for you. The other members, not so much, they didn't know you like Brian did, they never really knew who the real Y/N were. The most pain for you was Roger. He was constantly creating a drum beat on everything. The constant noise irritates you. You told him to stop, but he never did. This time you were fixing an amp with Deaky, he likes helping you. Roger was beating his drum sticks on your tool box, which was loud and echoing.

"Can you please stop!" You glared at him as Roger smirked and pretended he didn't hear you.

"What's wrong Y/N, don't like music?" Roger teased as you huffed. You finally finished the amp, harshly cleaned your things, and went to your room as you threw yourself on your bed, tired.

"Knock, Knock," You heard a familiar voice as you chuckled.

"Come in Brimi," You laughed as Brian walked in with two mugs of hot chocolate, with whip cream like you always loved, and envelopes.

"You have mail," Brian sat next to you and gave you the mug first, "Plus it looks like Rog pissed you off, so I got you your comfort drink."

"Thanks," You chuckled, "How did I get mail?"

"It came with our fanmail," Brain shrugged. You had all sorts of stuff like letters from your mom, dad, and siblings, but the one that stood out was this thick envelope. Curiosity took the best out of you, and you opened it first. It was the invitation to a wedding. You read the names as your heart sank, its from your now ex-boyfriend, who broke up with you because he didn’t like you traveling with a boy band and your, or who you thought she was, your best friend. You only have been touring for a year and they are already getting married. You didn’t even know they were together. You felt a blade stab you in the back and went right to the heart.

“That- those- assholes!” Your frustration made you speechless.

“What, Y/N?” Brian asked as you showed him the invitation and Brian softly looked at you, “Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you mumbled. You forced a smile to make it seem like you were alright to Brian as you felt yourself sinking into this dark hole.

Days later…

New city, same shit, you thought as you were now fixing Roger’s drum kit since he broke it last concert.

“Don’t break it!” Roger looked over your shoulder as you glared.

“Fuck off,” you scoffed.

“Someone’s feisty today,” Roger smirked as you rolled your eyes. Roger grabbed his drum sticks and started to hit them onto any surface.

“Y/N darling,” Freddie walked in with tea, “I haven’t seen you drink anything all day, you must stay hydrated.”

“Thanks Fred,” you smiled, taking the tea, then taking a soft sip.

“It’s her fault, she sleeps until we need her,” Roger shrugged as you bit your tongue. That is true, since the news of your ex and your best friend, all you want to do is sleep endlessly.

“We work her like a dog, excuse her for resting,” Freddie quickly stood up for you as you smiled.

“The tea is lovely, thanks Fred,” you softly smiled.

“Anytime darling,” Freddie quietly said, then walked off. He was always gentle with you. You went back to trying to fix Roger’s drum kit, but you were one cocky mark away from duck-taping the thing together and telling him to have fun. Roger started to bang his drumsticks everywhere again, and at this point you very much had it with Roger.

“Will you please go away or stay quiet!” You snapped.

“Time of the month?” Roger frowned as you stood up.

“You have fun putting this piece of shit back together, your the one that broke it!” You scoffed.

“Why am I killing you?” Roger sarcastically asked, “I mean your grumpiness is practically killing the fun of touring, if your that grumpy go back to London. If not I might wanna kill you.”

“Listen, If you hate me so much, kill me already. It's not like I have anything to live for!” You snapped, without thinking, it blurted out, and very loudly to the point everyone in the other room heard you. Roger’s face twisted soon as you said you had nothing to live for. His face then softened once he realized how you were really feeling. You felt the emotions you had buried come up.

“Y/N?” You heard Brian, you turned around to see him with the other two band members. You coughed to excuse yourself and went back to your room and locked the door. You slip down the door, balling your eyes out.

You fell asleep on the floor. The boys had to do their concert and Roger fixed his kit. When they were about to go on Freddie asked what had happened and Brian had told them what he knew. He knew you'd been upset and the news hurt you, but he didn’t know you were that low. After the concert, their manager suggested this high class fancy restaurant, but the boys passed by [insert ur fav takeout], Brian knew it was your favorite type of food. He demanded for them to go there, then they went back to the hotel. Brian knocked, but you didn’t answer. He tried to go in, but you locked your door.

“Y/N?” Brian asked as John, Freddie and Roger were behind him. Your a deep sleeper so Brian’s knocking and calling for you, didn’t wake you up.

“Y/N?” Brian said louder, as you were still soundly sleeping. The boys started to pound on your door. They had your food. The smell blew under the door and filled your nostrils. Your love of food woke you up, but then you heard the boys banging on your door.

“Jesus Christ, shut up can a girl sleep!” You yelled.

“Y/n?” The boys called out as you sheepishly stood up, unlocked the door, and opened it.

“This better be good, I was having a good dream,” you rubbed the tiredness out of your eyes. .

“We got you [insert ur fav dish],” Brian lifted the bag. As you smirked, you appreciated the small gesture. You invited the boys in, even Roger, and all watched some cheesy hotel tv as you ate your favorite food.