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ineloqueent · 5 years ago

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Starstruck: Part 11

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is Part 11 of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, the previous part, or the next part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 10 / Part 12

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.

Warnings: swearing

Historical Inaccuracies:

Not sure that Veronica went with Queen to Ridge Farm at all, but hey— creative licence!

Word Count: 6.9k

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You woke up late, and this you knew because from downstairs you could distinctly hear arguing, and it was rare that any of the others deigned to get up before eight in the morning, which was when you normally awoke.

You wandered into the kitchen with your hair still quite mussed by sleep, but in the very least you were dressed. Unlike Queen, who were waltzing about in pyjamas and dressing gowns.

“It’s just a bit weird, Roger,” Deacy was saying.

“Weird? It’s just a song, John!”

“Just a song?” said Freddie. “Then tell me, darling, why it is you’re pushing so hard for it to be on the album, hm?”

“With my hand on your grease gun?” Brian recited from a piece of paper, glasses on his nose. “Really, Rog?”

“It’s a metaphor, Brian!”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh, good morning, Y/N,” Freddie addressed you.

“Hello everyone,” you said, amusement still on your lips.

“Morning,” Deacy responded, while Roger grumbled something.

Brian smilingly handed you a cup of coffee. “Back me up on this, would you?”

You leaned against the countertop, next to Brian, whose posture was so positively awful that you could almost look directly into his eyes. But you avoided that carefully; his pyjama top was only half-buttoned, and the pale skin of his chest was visible beneath the open collar. It reminded you of how he had looked on the album cover of Sheer Heart Attack, how your eyes had fallen to where he lay with wide eyes, parted lips, his shirt unbuttoned. Borderline indecent. And outrageously attractive. As he was now.

You cleared your throat. “I don’t know, what’re we talking about, exactly?”

John rolled his eyes. “Roger’s car song.”

“Car song?”

“Mm,” Brian sipped his coffee.

“You’re just jealous that I’ve written something on guitar that’s better than anything you’ve written,” Roger sniffed.

Brian looked affronted. “I’m the guitarist, I have a right to be offended, and no, it’s not better than mine.”

Roger scoffed. “You’ve written exactly two songs—”

“Two and a half,” said Brian pointedly.

“Oh, sorry, two and a half. And exactly one of them is written with an electric guitar piece, and the other one is on... what?” Roger searched for the word. “A ukulele?! This is rock ‘n’ roll, Brian, not bloody folk music!”

“Folk music?!”

“You play the ukulele?” you interjected.

Brian glanced at you. “Not very well, but—”

“He’s going to learn to play the harp too,” Freddie added. “For my new song.”

With a smile in your direction, Deacy said, “You know he plays the piano as well, Y/N?”

You blinked at Brian. Talk about multi-talented.

“Concentrate for a fucking second!” Roger exclaimed, and everyone jumped. “No, don’t concentrate on Y/N, Brian.”

Brian sputtered, throwing up his arms, “I wasn’t—”

“It’s not going on the album, Roger,” Deacy shrugged. He seemed not to dislike the concept of the song, so much as to be getting back at Roger for discrediting his own song writing abilities.

Roger turned to Freddie, pleadingly.

Freddie sighed.

Roger’s face was at this point red with frustration, and he marched from the room.

“Roggie, we can discuss this,” Freddie appealed.

“Can’t,” Roger called back.

Freddie took one look at you all, and you followed him as he hurried after Roger.

You heard a slam! and then a clicking noise, and you frowned, puzzled. Roger had disappeared.

“Roger?”

“Roger, stop this. Where are you?”

“Rog?”

“Go away,” came Roger’s muffled voice.

Deacy raised his eyebrows, catching on before the rest of you. “This trick is getting old, Roger.”

“What the hell—” Brian yanked the handle of a cupboard door. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

Roger had locked himself inside the cupboard. Just like he’d locked you and Brian in the kitchen.

“Oh, I’m serious,” said Roger. “Put the bloody song on the album, or you’ve lost your drummer.”

“To a cupboard?” inquired John politely.

“...Yes.”

Freddie barked a laugh. “You’ll starve, Roger.”

“Uh,” you began, “sorry to be a downer, but uh, he won’t starve.”

“What?”

“That’s the pantry,” you muttered.

“Why the hell does it have a lock?!” cried Freddie.

“I don’t know! I didn’t design this place!”

Brian placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, and you looked up at him in surprise. “Don’t you have a key?” he said.

Your mouth fell open. “God, I’m actually stupid.”

“No, you’re noooot,” sang Roger from inside the cupboard. “I’ve got it.”

Freddie mumbled something along the lines of, “Well. Fuck.”

“Anyone feel like picking a lock?” Deacy ran a hand through his hair, rested his hands on his hips.

“Or you could just put the fucking song on the fucking album,” said Roger.

“Are we sure you’re the one with the temper, Bri?” you asked.

There was silence. Freddie nodded at you solemnly, eyes wide.

Brian sighed, his hand slipping from your shoulder. Instinctively, you reached up to touch the spot where his fingers had previously curled, soft and warm.

“No one’s winning any points here, Freddie,” Deacy said diplomatically, after at least a full minute of silence. “Let’s just put the song on the album. I’m sure it’ll be fine. It is just a song, after all, you know.”

“Listen to the wise man,” Roger intoned.

“That’s a good line…” Brian mused. Then he sighed again. “You’re so full of yourself, Roger.”

“So that's a yes, then?”

“Fine. But you owe me a siding.”

“A siding?” you asked.

“Next time there’s an argument,” John explained, “which will quite frankly be very soon, Roger has to take Brian’s side.”

“Ah,” you nodded in understanding.

“Freddie?” Roger piped. “I’m not coming out of here until you say yes too.”

Freddie tapped his foot against the floorboards. “Fine, but only because I’m nice, you bastard.”

“That’s actually rather contradictory, Freddie,” said Deacy.

“No, it’s not. I’m the nice one, he’s the bastard.”

“Okay Fred,” Brian replied, unconvinced.

Just then, Heather entered the hall, dressed in a kimono-esque garment you were sure was Roger’s. “Morning, all. Has anyone seen Roger?”

“Ha!” said Freddie. “No, darling. Not for the past few minutes. But god, we’ve heard him. Makes a frightful racket when he doesn’t get what he wants.”

Heather smirked. “Oh I know.”

Deacy laughed.

Freddie shook the cupboard handle, “Roger, are you coming out of the closet or what?”

“Ha ha, very funny.” There was a rattling, and then the cupboard door swung open. Roger stood there, eating a strawberry licorice rod.

You crossed your arms. “You can’t possibly have got hungry in so little time.”

“Peckish,” Roger shrugged. “Good morning, beautiful,” he swept over to Heather and they embraced.

“Ick,” Freddie waved a hand. “Get a room.

“They have a room,” Deacy pointed out.

Brian muttered, “Well, get back to it.”

You laughed.

“Mm, well, anyway, I came to ask why the hell you left our room in such a mess,” Heather jabbed Roger’s chest with a finger.

“You sure that’s not your mess, sweetheart?”

You looked at Heather. “You just came here to kiss your boyfriend, didn’t you?”

“Maybe… Yeah. Sorry Rog. But I also came to ask Y/N if she’s coming with us..?”

“Where’s who going?”

“To town. Veronica and Mary and I, I mean. When we get back, we’re going down the hill to play tennis. We saw your dad earlier, and he showed us where to find the rackets and everything.”

You paused, considering.

“Decisions, decisions,” said Brian.

“Shush, I’m thinking,” you poked his side, and he yelped, leaping away. You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Oh, he’s ticklish,” said Freddie helpfully.

A devilish smile formed on your lips, to which Brian shook his head slowly.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He flushed in response.

“Y/N? Coming or not?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, about that...”

“Or you can come with us to the studio,” suggested Brian.

You didn’t really want to go into town, and Brian had just given you the perfect excuse not to.

Freddie seemed to register your disinclination as well because he said, “Never mind, Y/N. You took too long to decide, so now you don’t get a choice. I need you in the studio with us.”

Heather seemed to accept this explanation, though really, as your closest friend, she should have known you wouldn’t have wanted to go into town. Her lack of friend-intuition likely stemmed from the fact that the two of you had been spending less and less time together as of late. You were hanging out more with Queen, and you supposed, though Heather and Roger were often together, that you were beginning to be closer with the members of Queen than you had ever been with Heather. The thought struck in you a great feeling of melancholy, and for a moment you thought of changing your mind about going with her and Ronnie and Mary, so as to spend more time with her, your best friend.

But Heather wasn’t struck by any such notions of pensive sadness. “Oh well, it appears you’re needed here,” she said. “Want anything from the shops?”

“Wouldn’t mind a chocolate bar,” you smiled.

“Done,” Heather winked at you. “Bye, Rog,” she kissed his cheek and departed.

“Now,” Freddie clasped his hands, “let’s get to the studio.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

“Right,” you said decisively. “Try ‘People of the Earth’ again.”

It was four weeks since Roger had locked himself in a cupboard to make the others accept his car song onto the new album, and every day since that had been spent hard at work, with only the evenings devoted to relaxing.

Every morning, you would rise at seven and be in the studio half an hour later, where Roadie-John and Crystal would help you to set up, in time for the others to come and tune instruments and arrange various things at about eight o’clock. The days were then spent writing and recording demos, though mostly writing, as tapes had to be done on handheld recorders, since the studio was not yet fully furnished— your dad still had to install a soundbooth and proper recording equipment.

In the late afternoons and evenings, there were fiercely competitive tennis matches, particularly between your dad and Deacy, who got along as well as ever. There were trips to the pub where your mum greeted you all with discounted pints, there were games of croquet and pool, and everywhere you looked, there was Brian, with some camera or another, from Polaroid to Pentax to an Iloca Rapid stereo camera.

From candids to posed shots, he took pictures of you all, all the time, at every spare moment, though Brian himself always avoided being in front of the camera. You got the feeling that he was, strangely, camera shy. You found it very sweet, though, and so it became a challenge for you to try to take pictures of Brian. He countered this with a challenge of his own, and soon the two of you were fighting a photography war. The result was far too many rolls of film peppered with blurry and out-of-focus images, but Brian didn’t seem to mind that his film was being used on this. He was always smiling when he was taking pictures.

It had yet to be warm enough for you all to take advantage of the swimming pool, but as the days got longer and the sun rose higher in the sky, the indoors would grow stuffy, and the sparkling blue-green water would become a sight for sore eyes.

Freddie now had three songs completely finished, with at least another two in the works. One in particular was quite dear to him, and enthralled you all; it was segments of several different songs woven together in an incredibly artistic manner, and for every day that passed, Freddie added even more segments. He went to such lengths to ensure the song’s perfection that one day, he even declared your dad’s piano unsuitable, instead having a piano of his own, a white grand piano, moved in. It had been an absolute ordeal to get that piano into Ridge Farm’s little studio, and you were sure you that even if you lived to be a hundred and four, you would never forget the shouting and the swearing and the sweating and the laughing and plotting entailed by the piano-shifting day.

Brian, on the other hand, still had only managed to write two songs, and bits and pieces of a third; you teased him that he was becoming more the band’s photographer than their guitarist. Roger continued to work on his car song, but poor Deacy had yet to write anything at all.

Today was Friday, and the five of you had been at work for hours, stopping briefly for a lunch of sandwiches in the garden. You were acting both manager and producer for Queen, and currently, the four of you were trying to help Brian to develop his half-song. It wasn’t going particularly well.

The midafternoon was warm, and the touch of sunlight upon your skin was making you drowsy, and making the others overly finicky and short-tempered. Especially Brian, to whom the pressure was presently applied.

He was running his fingers through his curls every few minutes, and his posture seemed worse than usual when he paced the room, unable to stand still for the frustration of not being able to bring into existence the whisper of a song that danced around his head.

“Vocals, I assume?” said Freddie.

“Yep. Let’s do that.” Your eyes were on Brian, who had kicked off his shoes and was chewing his bottom lip. He didn’t really look up to yet another failed attempt at harmonies and melodies, in fact, he didn’t look up to anything. But you were on a schedule and had to power on, at least for a little while longer.

“Count us in, Y/N?” Roger asked, and you nodded.

“One, two, three, four…”

Oh, oh, people of the earth!

"Listen to the warning," the prophet he said

For soon the cold of night will fall

Summoned by your own hand

The harmonies rose and the four of them made it successfully through a verse, sung as it would have been live, meaning that John was contributing too, though he declined to do so for any of the actual recordings that would happen in the future. A whole verse was quite a feat, one that hadn’t been achieved for the past hour, and you motioned for them to continue through the next verse.

Ah, ah, children of the land

Quicken to the new life, take my hand—

On this line, Brian’s eyes flicked to yours, and in them you saw desperation. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his mouth twisted in a grimace. Take my hand seemed a cry for help.

“You know what,” you interrupted quickly, “I think that’s enough for today.”

“Thank goodness,” said Deacy at once, stepping away from the practice microphone he had been sharing with the others. “I’ll go out on a limb here and say a swim is a good idea..?” He looked around, and the others nodded with defeated temperaments.

Brian in particular concerned you; he was basically swaying at this point. Roger seemed to notice this too.

“Brian, mate, have you had enough water to drink today?”

Brian shook his head, dazedly.

Freddie frowned.“No, I think not.”

“Here, have mine.” You retrieved your water bottle and brought it to Brian. He clutched it but said nothing, and worry roiled in your stomach. Deacy took his arm and guided him over to sit down on the piano bench.

You gathered around Brian, and Roger nudged his hand. “Go on then, have some water.”

Bri unscrewed the cap of your water bottle in a mechanical manner, raising the bottle to his lips and drinking slowly.

“Far too hot in here,” you muttered. “Really must get dad to fix the blinds and the fans.”

“‘S alright,” Brian managed, but he still seemed rather faint, his skin pale and clammy in appearance. The others looked worried, and you wondered if they’d been faced with a similar situation before.

“Come on, darling,” said Freddie. “Let’s get you outside, some fresh air, yes?”

Brian nodded, and together, you and Freddie helped him up.

Outside, you locked the door to the studio while the others deposited Brian on a conveniently-placed bench.

For a few minutes, you and Deacy sat with Brian in silence while he sipped his water and kept out of the sun, and Freddie and Roger had a smoke.

Then Brian finally spoke.

“Thank you,” he said, handing back your empty water bottle. “Sorry I drank all of it.” He winced, and you hoped that it wasn’t because he still wasn’t feeling well.

“Oh, no, it’s fine. Plenty more water where it came from. And I’m sure you’ll need more. Don’t want a second incident of overheating.”

He chuckled softly, and you knew then that he was on the mend.

“Shall we join the others and go for a swim?” John suggested again as the five of you walked back toward the main house. Amongst you, it was quickly agreed to meet by the pool in ten minutes, and so all went their separate ways to get changed.

Eight minutes later, you had swapped cotton for nylon, coated your skin in sunscreen, and slung a towel over one arm. The pool was down the hill, by the tennis courts, and as you followed the path, the others came into view.

Mary and Heather were lying in a pair of yellowed sun chairs, chatting, while Ronnie and Deacy appeared to be having a water fight in the pool, teamed up against Roadie-John and Crystal. The Tetzlaff-Deacon forces were winning, pushing Crystal and Roadie-John farther and farther to their side of the pool, but then again, the roadies seemed to be going easy on their enemies, seeing as Ronnie was nearly nine months pregnant. Roger was sitting on the edge of the pool with his legs in the water, his face turned to the sun and his sunglasses ever-present on his face.

Freddie came down the path behind you, and when he made it to the pool, he threw down his towel and dove straight in.

When Freddie bobbed back up to the surface, Roger splashed him, as payback for having been splashed. Freddie retaliated by pulling Roger into the water by his legs, to which the latter yelped.

“It’s COLD!” he shrieked, and Freddie laughed.

Spotting you, Freddie motioned toward the water. “Come in, darling, it’s lovely.”

“I think I believe Roger more than you, Freddie,” you narrowed your eyes.

“Oh,” said Heather, “don’t. He’s a bit of a wimp, you know.”

“Hey!” cried Roger indignantly. “Then why haven’t you got in, Heather?”

Heather glanced over at Mary, who shrugged. “Your funeral,” she said.

Heather tugged off her coverup, and before Mary could object, grabbed her arm and leapt into the pool, Mary screaming before the two of them plunged under.

“Oi!” said Deacy as they splashed himself and Ronnie, and Heather giggled while Mary shook her drenched head of hair.

“Oh come on, Mary,” Crystal splashed her. She glared, then splashed him back, laughing.

“Y/N, get in!” Ronnie called to you.

You’d put down your towel on a sunchair, and now stood eyeing the pool warily.

It was a large pool, both long and wide, which meant there was more than enough room for all the people already in it. But it wasn’t the pool’s occupancy that deterred you, so much as its temperature. And the fact that Brian was nowhere to be seen.

“I don’t know, Ronnie…”

“The more the merrier!” said Roadie-John.

Roger shoved him. “Don’t say that. It sounds creepy when you say it like that.”

Roadie-John looked at Crystal, who nodded. “Yeah, mate…”

“Sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s fine, it’s not that, it’s just…”

“Spit it out, lovey,” Freddie said, and now everyone was looking up at you.

Add self-consciousness to the list, check. You wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Has anyone seen Brian? He did almost faint, you know.”

“Oh, she’s worried about him, poor love,” cooed Mary. The others made similar noises, Roger contributing kissy faces.

You gave them a murderous look. “Seriously! Are we sure he didn’t just go inside and pass out somewhere?”

“No… We can’t be sure, if we haven’t seen him…” Freddie pursed his lips.

“So you haven’t seen him?” Your hands were growing sweaty, and you wrung them.

“No,” said Deacy, “not until now.” A sly smile spread across his face.

You frowned. “What—”

“Hello, love.”

Arms wrapped around your waist and soft breath tickled your skin, but you had no time to register any of this, because suddenly, you were flying through the air toward the swimming pool, and the water was rushing up to meet you, and you were squealing.

You went under, and the water really was cold, but not like ice, just enough to shock the last of the drowsiness from your being. It was quite nice, actually, to feel awake for once.

In a rush of bubbles, you returned to the surface and whipped your head about wildly, searching for Brian as the others laughed. It turned out that he was right behind you, again, smiling brilliantly and smoothing down his curls.

“Oh, you bastard!” you cried, giving him a hefty shove, and he laughed, splashing you. You shook your head, spraying him with water. “And to think I was worried about you, Bri.”

“Awh, worried about me? What’d I do this time?” He tilted his head to one side, gazing at you expectantly, all doe-eyes and soft lips. With a jolt, you realised that you wanted to pull him to you and kiss the gentle curve of his mouth till he melted against you.

You blushed.

Freddie gasped delightedly. “Oh look, she’s blushing!”

“Awww,” Roger chimed, and you considered drowning them both.

You rolled your eyes in their direction, regaining your composure before looking at Brian again.

Oh, how hard it would be to look at Brian now, when such thoughts had stumbled through your head. But you forced yourself to do it, because you had a façade to uphold.

“You were feeling a bit faint, earlier?” you said casually. “I know your type. Slightly weak constitutions, I’m afraid.” You paused to examine your nails, frowning at invisible specks of dirt.

“You know my type?” Brian crossed his arms over his slim frame, narrowing his eyes. But a smile played on his lips. “And is it yours?”

Your eyes widened, you dropped your hand.

Roger spoke your thoughts, “Bit forward, Brian?”

Brian shrugged his angular shoulders, nonchalant. “Only a question. She must have experience, if she’s asserting she knows my type.”

You crossed your arms too. “Oh yeah I have,” you drawled. “I’ve got loads of experience.”

Deacy practically snorted with laughter. Brian raised his eyebrows at you.

You stepped toward him, squaring your shoulders and raising your chin. “Does that bother you, Brian?”

The sun cast shadows across his face, and his hair fluttered in the breeze. The cool air whispered across your skin, but you didn’t shiver, you weren’t cold. You felt hot all over, even as you stood motionless beneath his hazel eyes.

His lips parted, and when he leaned down, his voice was low, a hum.

“Should it?”

A piece of your precious façade crumbled.

The others couldn’t possibly have heard what he’d said, and he’d clearly meant for it to be this way. But it had brought you back to reality. The reality which was that had you pulled him down to kiss you, he would have pushed you away.

Oh, how wrong can you be. Desire had very briefly blinded you to his lack of the same for you. You wouldn’t let it happen again.

“No,” you said, “but this should!” You splashed him and he gave a cry, and a small water fight ensued.

This then led to Roger’s organisation of a water war, where he insisted upon teams of girls vs. boys, until Freddie pointed out that the uneven numbers would place Roger on the girls team, “Seeing as you look the part, Rog”. Roger quickly changed his mind, though not before whacking Freddie. The teams ended up with you, Roadie-John, Freddie, and Mary pitted against Brian, Roger, Crystal, and Heather, while Deacy settled Veronica against the cushions of a sunchair.

There was no way to count points, so the war, which was really more of a battle, finished after about half an hour, when more than one person had complained of tired arms, and the rest of you had realised that it was impossible for either side to win.

Half of the party stayed swimming, but you, Mary, Freddie, and Brian were cold, and elected to join Ronnie and Deacy on the deck.

Unfortunately, the sun was more harsh than some people— i.e. Brian— had anticipated, and so, after a good long drowse on the deck, some people were starting to look a bit pink. Actually, a bit pink was putting it nicely.

He was lying on his stomach with his face turned away from the light, curls falling partially over his eyes. His skin did not have a tendency to freckle, but his cheeks were rosy and the little lines at the corners of his eyes were deepened by the sun, giving him the glow of someone who smiled often, even when his lips were slack and soft and the expression could not have been farther from his serene features.

Having laid your towel down beside Brian’s, you now reached over to tap his hand.

“Bri?”

“Mmm?” He barely stirred, but he had not been asleep, only dozing, his exhale gentle and his shoulders relaxed.

“Did you put sunscreen on?”

His eyes fluttered open. “Oh shit,” he murmured, and he couldn’t have said anything more prettily. “Am I burnt to a crisp?” he asked languidly, the corner of his mouth turning up.

In a breath, your eyes skimmed over his bare waist, back, shoulders, returned to his face and his half-smile.

“Very nearly,” you said. He shifted an arm experimentally, then winced. Pressing his face into his towel, he let out a groan.

“Whatever is the matter, Brian?” Freddie said over a cup of tea, tipping his sunglasses down his nose.

“Burmpt,” he mumbled into the towel.

“He’s got a sunburn,” you translated for Freddie.

“Ah.”

Deacy, hearing your conversation, leaned over to his wife. “My dear, didn’t you say you brought aloe vera, just in case?”

Veronica blinked sleepily before registering what John had said. “Oh, yes, I did. It’s in the downstairs bathroom, in my toiletries bag. You’re welcome to it, Brian.”

Brian raised his head again, squinting at Ronnie.

“Darling,” Freddie interjected, “he doesn’t know what your bag looks like.”

Veronica gestured to you, “Y/N, you know the one, the cream-tone bag with the silver edging.” You nodded, and she turned back to Brian. “Just take Y/N with you, she’ll show you.”

Brian sighed, then rolled onto his side and sat up gingerly.

He held a hand up over his eyes. “Feel like a stroll, Y/N?”

You stood, stretching your legs. “I would be a terrible friend if I said no.”

“And you’re not, you’re a wonderful friend, so you’re coming with me..?”

“You don’t have to ask. Come on.”

You picked up your towel and slung it over your shoulders, starting back up the path.

Brian was right behind you, taking careful steps to avoid particularly sharp pieces of gravel because he had once again neglected to wear shoes. It was never proper shoes with Brian; he alternated between clogs and socks and being barefoot entirely. With this, and his delicate countenance and curling hair and faraway thoughts, he was afforded the air of some woodland nymph or fairy.

He was beautiful.

You were very well aware.

Inside the house, you quickly found Veronica’s bag and the aloe vera.

Entering the living room where Brian was waiting, you triumphantly tossed the bottle into the air and caught it again. “Ta-daa,” you presented your find to Bri.

“Oh, brilliant!” he said as you passed him the bottle. “It is actually beginning to hurt quite a bit.” He touched his shoulder absently, then grimaced.

“Now that,” you said, “does not look like fun.” You made a face, then went into the adjoining kitchen to get a glass of water.

“How come I’m the only one who got burnt?” you heard him ask petulantly.

“Because, Brian dear, the rest of us put on sunscreen. And you are on the pale side of things.”

“Oh hush,” he said with exasperation, “you’re starting to sound like Freddie.”

You laughed, but you had also been in the process of drinking your water, so it came out like more of a cough.

“You alright in there?” Brian called.

“Yeah, fine,” you said, wiping the water from your chin. “I just can’t drink water like a normal person.”

“At least you don’t forget to, then nearly faint into your bandmates’ arms.”

“True,” you conceded, and he scoffed.

“Make me feel better, why don’t you?”

“What about you? You okay in there with that aloe vera?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t taste very nice.”

You rushed into the living room, “Brian! You’re not supposed to drink it!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he said, laughter in his eyes at the look on your face. “Christ, love, you’re like a deer in headlights.”

Your stomach tumbled— there it was again, the endearment.

Never darling or dearie, like Freddie; never sweetheart like Rog; never dear, as Deacy occasionally dubbed you. Always lovely, or love, as though he had such to give to you. And when Brian loved, it was fierce. You could see that from how the passing or his aunt haunted him, and how he still missed the cat he’d had in his childhood. His love for those around him was wholly consuming. The disapproval of his father picked him apart from the inside, he defended his friends with valour and gall when not physically pulling them from a fight, and it was plain that he would continue to do so for as long as he lived. But whomever he loved and however it was he loved, he did not love you.

And would never, for as long as he lived.

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, lost my train of thought,” you shook your head.

His brow furrowed. “Sure you’re alright?”

“Doin’ alriiiiight,” you sang.

Brian gave a laborious sigh, rubbing aloe vera over his shoulders. “You really need to spend less time with Freddie,” he said.

“What?” you leaned against the doorframe. “And spend more time with you instead?” You couldn’t help yourself, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying it. But Brian took it in stride.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” he said with a smile, and you were glad you were leaning against something; your legs couldn’t have carried you at that moment, had your life depended on it.

“Y/N,” Brain began hesitantly, “there’s something I have to tell you—”

“Knock knock!” came a shout from the front door, and you and Bri turned toward the sound. Veronica waddled into sight a few seconds later, and you went into the kitchen to greet her. “Found the aloe vera?” she asked.

“Yes,” Brian nodded. “Thank you.”

“No trouble,” Ronnie eased herself into a chair by the dining table. “And I’m sure Y/N could—” She gasped.

“Ronnie?” you asked, as Brian said, “Are you okay?”

Veronica raised her eyes slowly. “I think my water just broke.”

“Uh,” you began. “And what day is it..?”

“It’s the eighteenth of July,” said Brian.

“That’s… early,” you frowned, rooted to the spot because you were quite clueless as to what to do.

Then you looked at Veronica. Her eyes were wide and her hands were shaking, and she’d gone quite pale. “That’s why I’m panicking!” she cried.

“Right,” Brian sprang into action, sweeping over to Ronnie and helping her up. “Let’s get you cleaned up and ready to go, Veronica. The contractions won’t be long now. Y/N, would you run down and fetch John— and Roger, since he’s the only one with a car— please?”

He looked at you almost pleadingly, as though you would ever have said no.

“Yes, of course,” you breathed, and hurtled out the door.

You rounded the corner to the swimming pool and tennis courts almost before you could notice how far you’d run. You’d never run this fast in your life, and after today, you did not intend to do it ever again.

“DEACY!” you shouted, and he got up from his sunchair immediately. Everyone else looked equally alarmed, no doubt with the same questions in mind that John voiced.

“What is it? What’s happened? Are you alright—”

“Yes, yes, god, I’m fine. But Veronica’s water just broke.”

“Oh fuck,” Deacy swore, throwing on a t-shirt and losing his sunglasses in the process. Freddie picked them up swiftly, put them back on John’s head.

“Roger,” you called, “we’re gonna need you to drive.”

“I’m coming,” he said, pulling on his shoes whilst hopping from foot to foot. “Deacs,” he clapped his friend on the back because Deacy had gone completely still. “Let’s go.”

Deacy nodded, swallowed. “I’m going to be a father,” he croaked.

“Yes yes,” said Freddie, “and a wonderful one at that. Now, away with you, darlings.” Freddie gave them both a push toward the path. “And what do you need from us, Y/N?”

“Stay here and make sure you’re by a telephone,” you said. “I’ve got to go with them— to give directions. And please tell my parents where we’ve gone, if you see them!”

“Will do,” Freddie was all business. He called to Deacy, “Good luck, dearie!” and the others echoed similar sentiments from about the pool.

You resolved that one more run wouldn’t hurt too much, and followed Deacy and Roger’s jog toward the main house.

Inside, Brian was waiting with Veronica, a glass of water and a packed bag of her things sitting beside her as he rubbed her shoulders. Brian himself had put on a button-up shirt, but had once more left his top two buttons undone. The sight of him undid you a little bit.

“See, John’s here now,” he said soothingly, and Ronnie gave a little cry, arms outstretched for her husband. “Her contractions have started,” Brian explained.

Deacy ran to his wife and hugged her gently. “Shhh, my dear, I’m here now. And Roger’s got the car keys, so we can go.”

Roger held up his keys triumphantly, then rushed back outside to start the Alfa Romeo. In response, Veronica only nodded mutely, burying her face in Deacy’s shoulder and clinging tightly to fistfuls of his t-shirt.

“Come on, let’s get you up,” Brian murmured, and he and Deacy helped Ronnie to walk toward the door. “Y/N, would you take that bag, please?”

“Yep,” you grabbed the bag and followed the others outside, shutting the door behind you.

Deacy and Brian aided Veronica into the backseat of Roger’s car, and you hopped into the passenger’s seat as Roger shifted gears and pulled out of the driveway.

Roger drove toward town, and made it successfully through in less than thirty minutes, by the combined efforts of speeding and ignoring traffic laws entirely.

“Now, help me out, Y/N,” he said, as a crossroads was reached, and you began to give directions.

In total, the drive took about forty minutes, and with Veronica’s contractions getting closer together, it was a relief to everyone involved when you told Roger to pull into the car park of the Royal Surrey County Hospital.

Out of the car went Ronnie, and you all hurried into the hospital building.

Deacy was swept away with his wife, leaving you and Roger and Brian to stand around aimlessly in the lobby.

The rush of urgency that had pounded through you in getting to the hospital had diminished and slowed now that you knew that your friend and her future child were in good hands, accompanied by the loving husband and father to-be. Deacy may have gone stock still when you’d first arrived by the poolside with the news of Veronica’s condition, but like Brian, when faced with the situation itself, he was a natural, and it was easy to see that he was going to be a wonderful father.

“Well, thank god that’s over,” Roger said, falling back into a chair.

Brian scoffed, taking the seat adjacent. “For you, maybe. The poor woman’s still got to go through labour for christ knows how many hours.”

“And once again,” Roger sighed, pushing his hair from his face and adjusting his sunglasses, “I am glad that I am not a woman. I was stressed enough driving up here, as it was.”

“Were you really,” said Brian dryly. “I had no idea.”

“Well then you’re a bit daft, aren’t you?”

“Sarcasm, Rog. That was sarcasm.”

Roger only rolled his eyes in response. “Come sit down, Y/N. We probably won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

You sat down in the chair next to Brian, though not intentionally; it was the last chair in the row.

“Blimey, these chairs are uncomfortable,” you remarked, having tried to straighten your posture and only succeeded in ailing your back more.

“I’ll second that,” said Roger, shifting in his seat. “And we’ve only been here for two minutes.”

But Brian looked at you more closely. “Back giving you trouble?” he asked.

Your back was giving you trouble, because since coming home to Ridge Farm, you’d been playing guitar every day for two hours at a time, outside of the hours Brian still taught you on Thursday nights, and your posture was getting worse and worse for every session you practiced.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

Brian shrugged his shoulders. “I have terrible posture, and given that I’m teaching you, you’ve probably learned from the worst.”

“You two are getting old,” said Roger.

“With every revolution of the Earth we are aging, yes,” Brian replied. “But as are you, Roger, so don’t get too cocky. The universe might just throw an asteroid in your direction, out of spite.”

“No science talk, please,” Roger flapped a hand. “I’m on holiday.”

“I thought Ridge Farm was for working on the album,” you said.

“Work, play, it all sort of blurs together,” Roger sighed. “And anyway, I’m not the one turning twenty-bloody-seven tomorrow, Brian.”

Brian winced.

But this was news to you. “Your birthday is tomorrow?”

“Mmm…”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Why,” Brian smiled, “were you planning on getting me something?”

You folded your arms. “Well, I would have, only there’s no time now.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Y/N,” Roger said, “he doesn’t like a fuss. Silly ol’ Bri always spends so much time fussing over everyone else that it gets to be too much when people fuss over him.”

Brian sank farther into his chair, his cheeks flushing. “If I didn’t tell you to do your washing, Roger, you never would.”

“Yes, mum,” Roger made a face, then picked up a magazine from the side table, obviously not interested in discussing his lack of homelife skills.

Brian blushed again, and smoothed a hand across his cheek.

Why he was embarrassed for being a genuinely caring and thoughtful person, you did not understand. Brian was the one whom everybody turned to for help, no matter the situation, and even when they did not ask for help, he knew instinctively when he was needed, waiting by their side to take them by the hand and make everything all right again.

At least, that was how you saw it.

“That’s not silly, though,” you murmured. “If everyone acted like that, the world would be a far better place.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Brian, “but thank you, Y/N.”

But you weren’t finished. “Back there with Veronica, I had no idea what to do. I just stood there.”

He touched the side of his nose, looking down at his feet. “Nothing special. Just instinct. I could have done more, really.”

You shook your head. “But it is something special, Brian. People don’t think like that.”

Brian looked up. “You do,” he said, unwaveringly.

“Not enough to act on it.”

“I—”

“Just shut up and accept the compliment. You’re a star, Bri.”

Faint amusement flitted across his face, as though he didn’t quite believe you, the corners of his eyes softening. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, glancing down with that adorable half-smile still on his lips.

Then he reached over and took your hand from where it lay on the armrest of the chair.

He dipped his head as you looked up at him, his curls falling over his face and shrouding you both in shadow, creating a little world that existed only for the two of you beneath the fluorescent lights of the hospital lobby.

His slender fingers tightened around yours, and his gaze warmed you, like basking in sunshine by the seaside.

“Thank you,” he murmured, and your heart followed.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

A/N: i slipped into a bit of borhap dialogue there, oops... also, ‘the prophet’s song’ was originally named ‘people of the world’, so that’s why that’s like that :)

taglist: @melting-obelisks @stardust-killer-queen @hgmercury39 @topsecretdeacon @joemazzmatazz @perriwiinkle @brianmays-hair @iamsuperconfusedallthetime-dead @im-an-adult-ish @ilikebigstucks @doing-albri @killer-queen-87 @n0-self-c0ntro1 @archaicmusings

Masterpost / Part 10 / Part 12

#tina's writing #starstuck #brian may #brian may x reader #brian may x y/n #brian may x you #queen #freddie mercury #roger taylor #john deacon #queen fanfiction #1975 #1970s #fic

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diyunho · 5 years ago

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The Joker x Reader- “The Work Wife” Part 6

You’ve been working for The Joker for the past 10 years: you speak and act for him and no matter the circumstances, Y/N is always there to take care of everything he needs. The King of Gotham might not be married, yet he has a perfect partner: his work wife.

Starts HERE

After 1 Month

The Joker circles the warehouse, inspecting the boxes and crates full of ammo and smuggled goods received with last night’s shipment.

��Hmm…” he eyeballs a decorative vase engraved with gold and silver, wondering if the extravagant object should become part of his collection at The Penthouse. His cell start vibrating and J takes it out of pocket, impatient to hear about his wife’s routine checkup:

“ ‘ello,” he kicks two packages out of the way.

“Hi,” you greet your spouse. “Just got out of my appointment; the doctor said all seems fine. He ordered some lab tests to make sure my blood levels are within the normal range; I should get the results in about 3 days.”

“That’s awesome!” he grumbles while bending over to grab some papers scattered on the floor. “I’m glad you’re ok, I should have come also for moral support.”

Y/N smiles at the confession, choosing not to disclose it makes her happy:

“You have to sort out the cargo; the buyer will be there shortly.”

“Yeah, but this could have waited.”

Your smile gets wider as J fumbles around with several items.

“Tell you what: I’ll finish up some stuff here and I’ll drive to pitch in.”

The King of Gotham wouldn’t normally decline yet he’s actually worried after everything that happened.

“Nope, I want you to rest; you’ve been too active lately and you need to slow down. Why are you giggling?” he smacks his lips, displeased four trunks look like they’ve been tampered with.

“Nothing in particular,” the bubbly Y/N keeps the best for last.

“I’ll see you home; I found something I don’t like,” The Joker grunts as the heavy lid is lifted from one of the containers. “Stay put and relax!” he orders and you nonchalantly drop the bomb:

“Maybe I will,” and after a small pause: “Oh! By the way, I was given green light for sex.”

“ ‘kay, see you in a couple of hours,” J struggles with the box and waits for your long “Byeeeeee” before hanging up. A few seconds into his task and it hits.

“Holy shit!” he exhales and holds his breath, startled. “Jesus!!” he abandons the precious merchandise, running towards the exit. “Froooossst!!!” he gets his henchman’s assistance. “Take over!!”

“Yes sir!” Jonny emerges from one of the SUV’s parked inside, not understanding why his boss is in a hurry. “Anything wrong?”

“No!!! I have a personal emergency!!” The Joker shouts and pushes the heavy metal door to the side, wishing he was already at his destination.

*************

J enters the code on the pin pad and he is granted access into your apartment. He went to The Penthouse first: you weren’t there and he figured you must be on the 29th floor. He storms inside and rushes towards the bedroom when his enthusiasm is abruptly halted by no other than Jonathan Crane coming out of the kitchen.

Scarecrow almost drops the fresh coffee mug you brewed for him; The Clown Prince of Crime was certainly not informed you had company. Doesn’t matter though, he’s not one to be embarrassed by his current situation:

“May I help you Crane?” a high and mighty J sassily blurs out wearing nothing but his birthday suit.

“I doubt it,” Jonathan is quick to respond. “I dropped by to bring you extra ampules of Liquid Dream like you wanted and pain killers refill for Y/N in case she needs more.”

You suddenly pop up from behind Scarecrow, not being able to stop the question:

“Why are you naked?!”

The Joker opens his mouth because he has a cool explanation, yet the guest doesn’t care about it.

“I think I should bail,” he smirks as he passed by J. “I’m taking the cup, I’ll bring it back next time,” he announces and can’t contain a smartass remark: “Nice attire.”

Your husband bitterly growls and as always, you have to be the catalyst for a better outcome:

“Thank you, Jonathan!”

Scarecrow waves without adding extra comments, 100% positive you’ll burst out laughing as soon as he vacates the premises.

And he’s correct.

“Oh my God,” you snicker since you didn’t expect such a funny coincidence to unfold within today’s schedule. “That was hilarious!” the amused Y/N finds herself in The Joker’s arms moments after Jonathan’s departure. “Where are your clothes?!” you kiss him and he yanks at your waist, purring.

“The jacket and shirt in the car, pants and boxers in the elevator,” he admits while guiding you towards the couch in the living room. “The socks and shoes are somewhere on the hallway.”

“I was wondering when you’ll realize about the news I shared,” you whisper in his ear as he takes off your summer dress, aroused.

The two bodies plunge on the sofa, Y/N enjoying the intimacy as much as he does:

“J… … J…” you cling to him when his left hand slips in your bikini.

“Mmm? Does something hurt?” The Joker pecks the tip of your nose, ready to quit if you say yes.

“No… it’s not that,” the seriousness in your voice makes him pay attention.

Maybe you shouldn’t bring up the past in these circumstances; here it comes anyway:

“If the Las Vegas events repeat themselves… I won’t forgive you again,” you stare in his eyes without blinking. “I won’t return… ”

The Joker is silent and you wonder what’s going on in his mind; it’s not a secret he was miserable after being abandoned in the City of Lights due to his despicable conduct.

“They won’t.”

“Are you sure?” the doubt in your tone forces him to reveal:

“I’m sure because it felt horrible when you weren’t around.”

You caress J’s hair and remind him you won’t compromise for less than his total commitment:

“You’re either mine or you’re not, ok?...”

“I’m yours,” he grumbles and it’s not very difficult since the woman asking is no casual fling but the only one he ever wanted to marry for reals. “I want the special treatment,” the immediate request makes you snort: it’s so like him to articulate crap like this in the middle of a serious discussion.

“Do you?!”

“Yes!!” The Joker nibbles on your neck and underlines his affliction: “I’ve been so horny I’m not sure how I still function; I behaved though, I swear!” he’s fast to emphasize while pulling on your bra strap. “You know why?” J throws the question out there, aware the statement will please his wife. “I tolerate you… even if you’ve been nagging me for almost 12 years.”

“Careful,” you admonish. “Uttering such words makes you sound like you’re in love.”

“God forbids! You think so?!” the painful grimace on his face prompts more teasing from your part:

“Yeap, no cure for this terrible disease.”

Your bra ends up on the floor and he’s not content with the epilogue.

“I’m screwed then.”

“Noooot yet,” you wink and his purring intensifies when your teeth sink into his shoulder. “We’re getting there.”

************

Same morning, 11:47am

“There you are!” J exclaims discovering you on the terrace. “You disappeared on me Y/N: I thought you said we’ll have lunch,” the hyper spouse recalls. “What’s wrong?” he frowns seeing you wiping your tears and doesn’t stress the lack of an answer when he notices the ultrasound picture. The Joker quietly sits by you on the swing, kissing your scared cheek in the process. “You ok?”

“U-hum,” you nod. “I wish I didn’t have the miscarriage, you know?...” your bottom lip quivers while placing the image in your robe’s pocket. “I really wanted a baby…”

“My poor old girl…” he sighs and doesn’t expect you to agree.

“I am old!” you keep sobbing and he squeezes you closer to him. “It was probably my last chance to have a child and I blew it!”

The King of Gotham sucks at cheering; he attempts nevertheless:

“Mmmm… You’re supposed to say you’re not old and then I reply that you are old for my standards, which should prompt you to fight back and highlight my standards are crap. Am I to carry on these sort of conversations meant for two by myself now?!” he huffs. “People will think I’m crazy!”

You snort at his monologue and it’s the perfect opportunity to make it clear your opinion is unchanged:

“Your standards are crap!”

“There you are,” the delighted Joker reckons. “I got nervous for a moment,” he chuckles and you elbow him, smiling through tears. “What about we eat something and then we can plan our location for the honeymoon we didn’t get to enjoy?”

J’s plan is working: the little surprise proposition is distracting Y/N and she carefully weighs in his sentences.

“Would you like to elope?” he pushes for a decision and you play with your wedding ring, mumbling:

“I don’t wanna go to Vegas.”

“No Vegas!” he’s fast to consent. “Where to then?”

“Well…” you sniffle, “…what about Reno? We could stay at Solaris Casino; Mark Nessi would accommodate us.”

“He would. If we pack and leave, we can make it there by 7:30-ish pm.”

“You want to leave today?! What about your meetings? You actually have one tomorrow.”

“Meh, Frost can postpone them,” The Joker dismisses your concerns. “I vote we bail and have fun, hm?” he lifts your chin up. “Let’s get the hell out of here, yes?” the impatient Clown wiggles next to you.

“OK…” Y/N elects to grant his plea because escaping town couldn’t have a better timing: it will be nice to spend time together and try to get over the disappointment of his past mistake.

**************

Reno, 8:42pm

You and The Joker are strolling towards the gambling area, excited to have made it here an hour ago. The traffic wasn’t bad and you took turns driving, that’s why you had dinner first and then changed clothes in order to enjoy the night properly.

“I liked the lobster,” you pull at his arm since he’s distrait. “How was your stake?” you seek to chat when he suddenly opens the door to one of the storage closets and shoves you inside. You get trapped against the wall as J claims his special request for the evening.

“I want the special treatment,” he growls and you smirk.

“You didn’t do anything to earn it! This morning I made an exception because it’s been weeks since we had sex. Don’t let my lenience trick you!”

“Don’t nag me!” J cuts you off. “This backless red dress of yours is doing things to me so I want the special treatment,” he slides his arms around your waist.

“Surrounded by shampoo bottles and toilet paper?!”

“It’s quite sexy,” The Joker grins and you compromise a tiny bit:

“I’ll only do the first part! That’s it! I want to go and play poker.”

His face comes close to yours and you start kissing every inch of it, ogling the door instead of paying attention to him.

“You’re not doing it right!” your husband complains. “You’re supposed to look at me!”

You switch your concentration and keep staring in his eyes, abandoning the project when you consider it done.

“Where are you going?” J stops your movement. “Thanks to you I can’t walk now,” he lifts up your short dress and you dodge his touch, opening the door in order to escape.

“Of course you can! Come on, stop sulking,” you drag him out and he follows, bickering at your indifference.

“You’re mean!” The Joker admonishes and you intertwine his fingers with yours, guiding him in the direction of the VIP room.

“No, I’m not,” you defend your actions. “I’ve been around you for so many years that those blue eyes and long lashes don’t have any powers over me,” Y/N teases. “I’m immune.”

“Bullshit!” he mutters and you steal a kiss, inviting him to enter the poker room.

“Do you want to sit by the bar?” you point and J doesn’t oppose the choice. “I’m getting a cocktail. Grape juice?”

“No,” he pouts and makes himself comfortable while you fetch your drink.

“Hello Mister Joker,” one of the dolled-up girls swiftly pops up at the table. “I didn’t see you in forever!”

“I’ve been busy,” he avoids the subject and barks when she tries to collapse on the chair next to his. “This seat’s taken!”

“Oh,” she straightens her back. “By whom?!” the envious Ella inquires.

Did another girl get to him first?! It’s common knowledge he’s generous with his flings and she can’t believe another will cash in the benefits.

“My wife,” he taps his fingers on the table, annoyed the interrogation continues.

“You got married Mister Joker?!” the woman doesn’t hide her astonishment: it’s not that his nuptials were broadcasted on the news. Plus… he’s a very weird man, totally not husband material.

“A few months ago,” he sneers and she’s not smart enough to take the hint.

“Who did you marry Mister Joker?” she giggles, more and more convinced he’s bluffing: The King of Gotham is probably messing around to make her jealous.

“My best friend and main nagger,” J bitterly mentions. “Isn’t this what people do? Marry their best friends?”

“You almost got me Mister Joker,” she laughs at his strange acknowledgement, reassured he’s messing with her: an individual like him would pronounce such nonsense only to initiate flirting.

“Excuse me!” you bump into her on purpose, aware why she’s there. “I got you grape juice on ice,” you place the glass in front of your spouse and he opens his mouth in amazement.

“I was literally about to order this! How did you know I changed my mind?!”

“Best friends know,” you bend to kiss him and J pouts, annoyed you overheard his childish affirmation.

“You have such a cool tattoo on your back!” Ella exclaims. “Is that Japanese?”

Y/N turns in her chair, confused to notice the lady is still standing behind them.

“Yes.”

“What does it say?”

You take a deep breath, fed up by her unwanted presence.

“It says that if you don’t get lost, I’ll make sure your body is never found again! And if it’s eventually found, it surely won’t be identifiable!!”

You reprise your position at the poker table, patiently waiting for the dealer to finish handing out the cards.

“I’m so hot and bothered,” J brushes his lips on yours. “Your attitude begs for my undivided eagerness to peel you out of this dress,” he lustfully glares at your cleavage.“What do you say we leave and have a party on our own? We can play strip poker in the honeymoon suite.”

“We just got here minutes ago,” you fix a rebel strand of hair then whisper: “Table seven, white shirt guy.”

“Do you ever take vacations?” The Joker grinds his teeth, nonchalantly gazing at your suspicious target.

“I like to mix business with pleasure,” you wink and accidentally spill a little bit of your cocktail on his pants. “Oops, pardon me; I assume you have to come with me if you need help stepping out of your wet garment.”

“As that old Arkham report specifies: I need all the help I can get,” The Clown reveals to an amused Y/N, excited she’s receptive to his innuendos.

**************

You emerge from the walk-in closet in your skimpy purple lace attire and The Joker gasps, enticed at the view.

“Oh my God! Com’ere!” he gestures for your company and you crawl in bed, pushing aside the items scattered on the sheets:

“What’s with the shampoo bottles and toilet paper rolls?!”

“I’m attempting to recreate the seductive atmosphere in the storage room, maybe it can convince you to continue the special treatment.”

“You don’t give up, do you?” you scoff and straddle his lap, conflicted if you should grant his wish.

“I usually don’t… Are you gonna help like you promised and take off my pants?” J gropes you and the knock at the door interrupts your answer.

“Room service!”

“Did you order from the menu?” you ask and your husband purrs:

“More champagne.”

“Maybe our new friend has arrived,” you wink, hopping out of bed.

“Why don’t we find out?” The Joker spanks your butt as you cover your body with the bathrobe.

Y/N grabs the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket and hides around the corner while he shouts:

“Come in!”

The waiter pushes in the rolling cart in the middle of the lobby, greeting his grouchy customer:

“Hi Mister Joker, would you like one bottle or two?”

“One!”

You creep beyond him and smash the glass against his skull; the man falls on his knees and you take advantage of his dizziness to switch him face up: it is the guy from table seven!

“Who send you?” you ferociously punch him and he struggles to escape when The King’s gun ends up one inch away from his temple. “Who send you?” Y/N shrieks and she’s so absorbed into her job she can’t discern the mesmerized Joker staring at her. It’s not that he didn’t see you in action before, but it finally clicked:

It sure pays off being married to your work wife!

Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: Diyunho.

#the joker x reader #the joker fanfiction #the joker imagine #the joker jared leto #the joker suicide squad #the joker #joker #joker fanfiction #joker jared leto #joker suicide squad #mister j #Mistah J #dc #dcu

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toooldforfandom-liveblogs · 5 years ago

Text

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power S01E11 - Promise

I'm trying to think if there have been any big promises made so far but I can't remember any. A new promise then! Considering how it ended it could be Glimmer promising something to Angella (or the other way around,) or Catra and Adora maybe promising something after whatever needs to happen in the Beacon happens. I don't know so let's do this!

The post-post-apocalyptic backdrop of the show really intrigues me. This scene wouldn't be out of place in any of those stories, the primitive character asking something beyond their understanding in ways that we, as the viewer, know it's not how it works. I'm still wondering if the magic they all use it's just some sort of future tech.

That's... a pretty complex question to make to an AI assistant, ask anyone who has used Siri.

Yeah.

I wonder if it's because it requires a specific sentence structure or if Adora needs to be She-Ra.

Imagine having to transform into She-Ra every time you log into your bank's website. The ultimate form of 2-step auth.

Ooh, lore. So that's why the Sword (or She-Ra) doesn't need to be recharged, it's its own source of energy, just like the other rune stones I assume.

oh my god her face

pictured: me yelling at Alexa to do something for the fifth time

That seems weirdly less robotic. Was this recorded after the original programming?

Noooot a big fan of what this framing implies. Does She-Ra need to let go of her past as Adora, including her friendship with Catra?

I love that even though they are "enemies" Catra's first reaction is to go "I know you didn't mean to hurt me so wtf!"

Their relationship is such a tragedy. They know each other so well that they instantly start working together almost by instinct, years of friendship and training coming to the fore. It's only when they start thinking that it all goes to crap.

We know Adora's reasons to leave the Horde, what's Catra's reason to stay? Is it only because she feels betrayed by Adora and is digging her heels? Or maybe she doesn't want to abandon the one place she's known all her life? She may have a pretty bad relationship with Shadow Weaver but she's still the one who seems to have raised her. I think I asked the same questions a couple of episodes ago but I can't help it, Catra's motives are still a mystery!

The change to a shield makes slightly more sense now that I know the sword's name.

Can't wait for four seasons of this.

Her complete nonchalance is so good

This is like saying goodbye to someone and then finding out you're going the same way.

Did Adora always have the ability to read the language of the First Ones but never got the chance to do it (because they apparently are controlling info about the FO in the horde and maybe she never went out of the fright zone) or was it something the Sword infused into her?

Funko Pop Adora.

For as much as Catra complains to Adora about going somewhere else, she didn't even try to respond to Adora's "attack" even though it was a bit of a surprise.

OH MY GOD I'M NOT READY FOR THIS LOOK AT THAT CUTIE

Please tell me the "promise" is not something they promised when they were kids, especially something about taking care of each other. My heart is not ready for that.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THEY ARE SO CUTE

...is Octavia the fish woman from last episode with an _eye patch_? Damn, Catra.

oh my god Adora, you just can't tell other people they are dumb faces

Hopefully, it's not about "letting go of your attachments~" and more about letting go of the guilt she's carrying around.

I like that they are addressing this and actually talking about it. Or at least Adora is trying to.

And that's why. Catra may be on the opposite side of the war, angry at being betrayed and probably really confused about everything but she still can't bring herself to give up on Adora and their history together.

These two are too damn cute.

Wow, her defenses got up pretty early. She's already deflecting. Was it all because Adora got better treatment?

Oof. Already lying to herself and Adora to protect her pride.

"Displays of physical weakness are discouraged in the Horde"

I doubt emotional "weakness" fares much better, especially with Shadow Weaver as their guardian. When did she stop showing her vulnerability to Adora? How long has their relationship been based on only what Catra decides is safe to display?

Oh. Did whatever happened in there start Catra on her path?

Yeah. That'd do it. Well, that and the multiple other times Shadow Weaver has probably abused her over the years. Being told you're disposable and useless? Being always compared unfavorably to a sibling? It's a miracle Catra still likes Adora.

How do you _not_ resent the favored sibling? They were just kids and there was nothing Adora could have done but this resentment born from trauma doesn't need to be rational.

This is the cutest saddest hiss ever.

aaaaaaaaaaaaa the promise was exactly what I thought it was going to be and it's just as sad as I expected

This feels important, in a "what would you tell your 7-year old self?" way. Would you feel proud of what you've become? Of your decisions? Or would you try to steer them away from your current self?

That music and expression don't give me much hope that the result of her introspection was good.

With these situations, there's always the question if the character is telling the truth or if they are just lying to protect themselves. For maximum drama it can be both, telling the truth but not all of it. I may be wrong but I think Catra is doing that. She believes everything she's saying but that doesn't negate everything else she feels about Catra. She's letting Adora go because anything else would continue to hurt her.

And here's the reminder that Adora also needs to let go. Good thing that Catra made it so easy, huh? Hm.

Can't wait for Scorpia's feelings to get hurt because of her believing that. And by "can't wait" I mean "please don't let it happen, my heart can't take more of this"

Oof, direct hit to her heart. This show seems to like doing this kind of thing, huh? First with Adora saying "I'd never leave my friends behind" and now this.

---

Well, that was heavy.

Catra continues to be the most interesting character of the show, with her resentment, her constant deflection, raised defenses and her actions ringing very true to the trauma she's suffered. The way she exploded at Adora feels like the first step to healing since she finally was able to tell her how she really felt about a lot of things but I'm guessing there'll be a lot more drama before they can actually heal their relationship.

Did she really intend to kill Adora o was she simply playing her part as a villain to stop the security system from attacking Adora? Would Catra even be able to answer that question?

About everything else:

* Tiny Catra and Adora were custom-made to make me squeal at their cuteness and break my heart at the same time.

* Why does Shadow Weaver need the powers from her Black Garnet(?) to survive? What happened to her to leave her like that? Did it happen before or after leaving Mystacor? Did it happen when she found Adora? Or maybe Catra? That could explain how she treats her.

* Is Adora going to discover her "destiny" next episode? Her past? Her vision explained?

* One of the reasons why I didn't really think about Catra/Adora as a couple that could get shipped until Princess Prom is that from their first appearance they've always felt more like siblings and this episode didn't really help to dispel that notion. Of course, their relationship is a lot more complicated than just that.

* Scorpia seems to really like Catra and I fear it'll end up hurting her when Catra is unable to lower down her defenses to let her in. Hopefully, it'll go the other way and Catra will be able to trust her at least as a friend. At least she seems to be getting along well with Entrapta.

I think that's all for now, until next time!

#shera #shera liveblog #shera s01e11 #spop

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surveys-at-your-service · 6 years ago

Text

Survey #189

“why are the children all marching into the desert to die?”

What does your trick-or-treat bag or pail look like? Pretty sure mine was usually just a plastic orange pumpkin. How old will you turn on your next birthday? 23, wow-ie. What are your plans to celebrate? Dinner with the fam, and I don't think I could possibly pass a birthday without getting a tattoo. :') Which X Factor audition(s) was/were your favorite? Don't watch it. Were you a straight A student in spelling and grammar? Yes. Were you a straight A student in math? No, I got Bs sometimes. Were you abused or do you know anyone who was abused? I know people who were. What is the name of your favorite coffee shop in your town? N/A What is fall weather usually like where you live? Usually warmish and breezy, but sometimes super cold. Do you think you have an accent? Very slightly. Do you use plastic, wooden, or wire hangers? Plastic. What is your favorite shade of yellow? Pastel. Are there any shades of blue that you don’t like? If so, which ones? No. Are you afraid of getting yelled at? YES YES YES YES I WILL CRY PLEASE DON'T Who has the best-decorated house in your town? *shrugs* What is your favorite part of Halloween? Dressing up. Is there a cemetery in your backyard? No. Did you decorate a pumpkin this year? No. ;_; What are some fall activities you would do with your kids? If I actually wanted them, take them on a hay ride (spooky one if they're older and want to), decorate pumpkins together, obviously go trick-or-treating, let 'em play in leaf piles. Have you ever seen a fox? Yes. What color are the squirrels where you live? Brown. Is there anything about Halloween you find offensive? Um no. What do the trees look like where you live? There's basically a shitload of pine trees, some dogwoods in spring (which fucking stink, btw), and then there's other trees idk the name of. Did you like field trips when you were a kid? YESSSSSSSSSSSS Do you find museums boring or interesting? Interesting! What was your school’s rival team’s mascot? Uhhhhh idr. What are three issues you are passionate about? Gay rights, gun control, and immigration. Would you ever wear a shirt with your country’s flag on it? I mean if I had to? What’s a medicine that makes you sleepy? Klonopin, back when I had to take two a day. I was just barely able to function at all on three. Do you like bath bombs? Never used one, but sure. What was your favorite girl group when you were growing up? Pussycat Dolls lmaoooooooo Do you like Disney movies? Only heathens don't. In what type of area was your first sexual encounter? A house. What do you occupy your time with on flights? Listen to my iPod. Do you ever realize how ridiculous you’re being yet continue on anyway? Sometimes in anxiety-type situations. Have you ever seriously vandalized someone else’s property? No. Have you ever been punched? No. What do you usually order from Olive Garden?  Spicy shrimp fritas oh my gaaaaaaaaaaaah How do you like your steak cooked?  Medium well. How do you feel about bats? I'm love them. Is anyone in your family artistic? Me. Have you ever suspected anyone of cheating on you? No. Are you emo/gothic/punk? I AM the Thicc Goth GF in my head. I'm just too poor and lazy for the wardrobe. :^) Would you date someone 20 years older than you? Nooooooooooo that's way too big a difference for me. What is your father’s middle name? John. What was the last food you got a random craving for? Sour gummy worms lmao. What is something you enjoy doing, but aren’t good at? Singing, sometimes. Name some healthy foods that you enjoy eating. Strawberries, apples, peaches, corn, cucumbers, green beans, bananas... What is your favorite Studio Ghibli film? Don't think I've watched any. If your best friend was a fictional character, who would he/she be? Why? This requires too much thinking. What was the last song you listened to? Does it mean anything to you? Ninja Sex Party's cover of "Africa" is on now. No. What flavor was the last cupcake you ate? Chocolate. When was the last time you complimented a stranger? Idk. Do you know how to text without looking? Not well. What about typing without looking? Yup. Have you ever thrown rocks at a girl/guy’s window? No. When was the last time you bought a bathing suit? Like, a year back? Do you like eggnog? NOOOOOOOOOOO. How often do you see your mother? Every day. When was the last time your living room furniture was rearranged? Long time ago. When you were little, did you like watching Cartoon Network, Disney or Nickelodeon more? Disney. When is the last time that you experienced rejection–literal or imagined? By no means /serious/ rejection, but I suppose it fits the definition. Asked the tat/piercing parlor I go to about working there at the desk (the place isn't busy and I'm v comfortable there, so I think I easily could), but they let me know they currently didn't need anyone. When you are feeling down are you more likely to cheer yourself up by shopping, eating, or drinking? I've gotten loads better about it, but eating. Do you think there will be a time when our current age of rapid innovation comes to a standstill? What do you think is the limit of human technological advancement? No, honestly. It may stall, but I don't see it stopping any time soon. In hindsight, what was the most misguided/unhelpful assignment you had to do in school or college? Uhhhh idk. On any blogs or social media you may have, do you try to maintain a certain aesthetic or persona? Is this consistent across platforms or just specific to one? Not really. My less-appropriate sense of humor comes out more on Tumblr, and in some areas I type in all lowercase because I find it more aesthetically pleasing. Is there an artist or celebrity whom you admire for their craft but take issue with their personality or politics? Marilyn Manson, very easily. He's talented and unapologetically unique as all hell, but I do noooot like him as a person from what I know. What is the last party or event you were invited to but declined? Why? Are there certain events that you might be invited to which you are likely to decline? An old friend's Thanksgiving-ish friends party. I was tempted, but it was explicitly stated to BYOB and weed and I just didn't want to be in an environment where there was lots of drinking and smoking something that's still illegal in the state. I was already uncomfortable enough last time I went to a party at her house and there was so much smoking. You were also supposed to bring a piece of Thanksgiving food to contribute, but I can't cook and I didn't wanna bother Mom about it. For the last question, it's just about a "never" situation where I'm invited to a real event besides family birthday parties or meet-ups with Dad and his wife. Off the top of my head, I'd never go to a club if I was invited. Imagine your life three years from now as if things have gone perfectly, better than you would typically predict. What do you see? Living with a happy Sara in the mountains, very successful in photography and thus financially stable (or hopefully a bit beyond that), excelling in school, back to my healthy weight, my mental health is great and I'm on way fewer meds, Sara's able to breed snakes and write as a real career, COVER ME IN TATS BITCH, more piercings, a treatment/medication for hypotonia has been discovered, my niece and nephew have met Sara and been taught our relationship is not wrong (I doubt it though :x), I'm happy, it'd be nice to write with more people, I have at least one poem published, Teddy, Venus, Kaiju, Roman, Mitsu (now totally comfortable being held), and Sara's babies are still alive and kickin', Venus and Crowley have had a clutch, Sara's PMDD is under control, Dad's stopped smoking, Mom is in a healthy, fulfilling relationship, both Mom and Sara are at the weights they aim for, Nicole is with a guy she truly loves and he reciprocates properly, Mom has been treated for depression and has forgiven Dad... Man, lots of things. This question really made me look forward to creating this future. What about your personality makes you good at your job? Alternatively, why do you find yourself uniquely suited for or drawn to your ideal career path? No job, so I'll just respond to the second. Photography is pretty surprising as it requires serious communication, which y'all know isn't my forte in the least. However, I'm so passionate about it and feel knowledgeable enough on it to be confident. Plus I just love showing how beautiful the world is capable of being. Do you find it valuable or important to respect those in positions of authority simply because of their position? Does this vary based on what that position is? Nope. I'm not gonna respect an absolute asshole just because you're of a high position. It doesn't vary to me, either. Do you find that you often desire and/or enjoy sex? If not, why not and how do you negotiate those feelings with your partner? If so, what is it that you enjoy about it in particular? I'd say I desire it to a normal degree, and yeah, I enjoy it. Why, #1, it's such a passionate and intimate way to communicate how much you love and trust your partner. Then I mean it feels good so. How many times have you seriously injured yourself? Idk. Seriously... three? When was the last time you were a passenger in a car and sat in the back? In the back, idk. Did you attend Sunday School as a child? Yes. Are/were you in the school band, and if so, what instrument did you play? Yes, flute. What is the best thing you’ve ever bought at a thrift shop? This cool crashed ship lamp! It's beside my bed. Have you ever ordered an unusual drink at a bar? No. What is your favorite thing about summer? Swimming. That's it. When was the last time you went to your local library? Whew, years. Can you do a proper cartwheel? No. Have you ever been pulled aside by security at the airport? No. Are you a fast-thinker or a slow-thinker? Slow. If you were to donate to charity today, what would you donate to? The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention or The Trevor Project. What is your favorite card game and when was the last time you played it? Magic: The Gathering and not since my PS3 broke (I had the Duel of the Planeswalkers store game on there and I WANT IT BACK). Who was the last person you cuddled with? Sara. Did you ever go to summer camp when you were younger? No. What is your favorite seasonal candy? (only available at certain times) Gingerbread men!! Are there any television shows you own in entirety on DVD or VHS? Meerkat Manor. How far away from your house is the nearest gas station? Like, two minutes. Do you know anyone who is fluent in a second-tongue? Yeah. What is the scariest movie you’ve ever seen and who did you watch it with? The Rite, but only because the whole "raped and impregnated by a demon" shtick is a fuck to the no from me. Watched it with my younger sis years ago. When was the last time you had a bubble bath? A looooooooong time ago, I don't like baths. What was the last strong scent you smelled? Poop. Good job, Bentley. What did you buy the last time you went shopping for new clothes? A bra, I think? How did you discover your favorite band? Mom's CDs. When I was getting into my rock and metal love, I went through them and listened to albums with cool covers or bands I knew she loved, and the first happened to be Ozzy. :') Does the weather affect your mood? If so, in what ways? Yes. I have a greater tendency to feel down when it's real cloudy and sometimes rainy. If it's really hot, I'm in a worse/cranky mood. When are you most likely to be bored? Late afternoon/evening. What was the last big decision you made? Hmmm. Going back to school, maybe? Where was the last place you traveled to, and what did you do while there? Illinois. Hang out with my bby. :') What is your favorite thing to go shopping for? Clothes at Hot Topic ahhhhh. What was the last thing you received in the mail? Something for VR. What is one of your wildest dreams or ambitions? Become a well-known photographer. When was the last time you performed in front of a group of people? Years ago for dance. Who was the last person to upset you? How about the last person to cheer you up? Mom; Sara. Is there anything or anyone you’re trying to get over or let go of? No. What was the subject of your last phone conversation? Uhhh something short with Ma that I don't remember. How close do you have to be with someone before you’ll consider them a friend? I have to feel decently comfortable around them. How do you feel when a mostly unheard of band (or tv show, movie, etc.) that you love suddenly starts to gain popularity? I'm happy for them! I just hope they don't change. When was the last time you listened to new music? Uhhh recently. Do you think it is strange when a couple says “we are pregnant” rather than “I am pregnant” or “my girlfriend is pregnant”? No, I actually prefer it. You're in that shit together. Do you ever feel like you were born in the wrong era? What decade would you most like to have grown up in? No. I'm good with the '90s. What was your most memorable concert experience? Only been to one. :| But Alice was great. If you have any, are you close with your sibling(s)? Has it always been that way? Not very, and no, at least with my younger sister. We were pretty close. Do you require “closure” after things like break-ups or do you move on easily? I. Need. Closure. How long does it take for someone to earn your trust? Good luck. Do you like peanut butter? Yesssss. Have you ever had to wear a uniform to school? Do/did you prefer wearing it than regular clothes? In middle school. Hell no. What’s the last thing you got really excited over? Going to Sara's. Is there a genre of movie that you just can’t watch? Action-y. What was the last song to give you nostalgia? "Holiday" by Green Day. Do you have a certain color grape you like the most? Purple. What’s your signature thing you do when drinking that will make your friends say, “Alright, they’re drunk”? N/A Have you ever been on a hot air balloon? No. What’s your definition of weird? I try to keep the mindset that "weird" doesn't exist as I'm not one to talk about things being so, yet I'm hypocritical about it and do find some things, ex. fetishes, extremely weird. Do you use shaving cream? For my legs. When was the last time you cleaned your room? Is your room clean? I dusted my whole room a while back. I need to vacuum baaadly, but ours is broken. ;-; Have you ever personally known any girl who shaved their head? Yes. Have you ever known anyone who committed suicide? Sadly. Have you ever tried to commit suicide? Yes. Have you ever coughed up blood? No. How do you wish you could die? Surrounded by family and painless. Do you have any apps on your Facebook? If so, what? No. What kind of mouse pad do you have? Don't have one. What color is your mouse? Pink. Do you know any who might be anorexic? Do you know anyone who has bulimia? Maybe? Did you ever want a pony when you were little? Idr. What’s your favorite dessert food? Ice cream. What is the closest thing to you right now that is alive? My dog. Do you exercise? I'm starting to again. Do you dislike writing school essays? Not if it's a subject I like. Are you a very open-minded person? Yes. Are you modest? I believe I am. Do you skate? No. Are you in a band? No. If you were to make it big with your own band, what would its name be? *shrugs* It depends on the members. Would you rather a friend come over to your house or you go over there? I go over there. Have you ever had rabies? No. Do you know anyone who ever had to get a rabies shot? Idk. Have you ever gone hunting? No, never would. Ever eaten deer? Duck? Squirrel? How about lamb? No. Have you ever received a note in your locker? I think once from Aaron?

#survey #quiz #questions #random

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