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anyone else??

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John Deacon backstage - Magic Tour 1986.

Via Queen Rare Archive on Facebook.

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Arms 🥵🥵🥵

Credit Deaky amp on twitter

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Musicland Studios - 1981

Credits to Wolf-Dieter Kuntze. Don’t repost without credits!!

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Under Pressure / Saturday Night Live 1982

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Mutuals as weird fun facts/historical things

you gave me enough of a broad ask that i’m doing something a little different, so thank you for that: mutuals as historical outfits/fashions. 💕

@archaicmusings: ancient greece.

y’all gonna look at me and be surprised by this one? cal would absolutely run around in a toga, and tbh i’d join her because they look comfy.

@almightygwil: 1800s america.

ellie is lowkey the pioneer woman i wish i could be. (call me out for romanticizing the past and i will gladly name myself guilty.) but anyway, ellie would totes be the oregon trail mama of my heart with her calico prints and bonnets. 

@dancingdiscofloof: 1990s business. 

rove is one wheeling-and-dealing mama. i like to think of her as sigourney weaver a la “working girl” with a dozen pants suits

@six-bloodyminutes: 1960s mod.

morgan is both sophisticated enough and wild enough to pull off this eccentric moment in fashion history. you can’t convince me otherwise. 

@im-an-adult-ish: 1940s.

there’s something super refreshingly honest about meredith, and i think the 40s captures that well. even in the midst of great struggle, meredith remains stalwart just like the babes of the 40s. 

@hijackmy-heart: 1770s europe.

when nat has something to say, rest assured, whatever comes out of her mouth is going to be a statement. half the time i’m not sure what that statement is going to be, but i’m always surprised. i like to imagine her making those same sort of statements via the popular fashion of the mid-1770s, which emphasized huge hoop skirts, bold patterns, and bright colors. 

@deacyblues: 1920s america.

pearl always always reminds me of the jazz age, so of course she’d be emblematic of that era’s fashion. she’s even got the bob to boot! 

@joemazzmatazz: 1980s punk.

regan is a straight up badass, and i’m afraid of her half the time. (i mean that in the most loving way, btw.) i like to think that she would punch a man for me while wearing a leather jacket. the end. 

@ineloqueent: european middle ages.

yeah, so sorry to tina, but she arguably has the least fun era on this list. fashion, especially for middle to lower class individuals (seen on the far right), was of little consequence during the middle ages, but i picked this specifically because of the lotr-vibes. tina gives off strong lotr/robin hood/king arthur vibes, and i truly think she’d be one of the few to thrive (maybe) in the middle ages. 

@gwiilymslee: regency london.

sorry not sorry, i don’t like regency fashion, but i can absolutely see audrey rockin’ those empire waists and signature curls.

bonus: me! turn of the century 1900s america.

yes, mama! gimme those cinched waists, bustles, and bright parasols!! 

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roger & john, top of the pops 83

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John, 1985.

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JESS REALLY WENT AND DID IT NOW

what hath night to do with sleep

summary: “rowing in eden—/ah, the sea! /might i moor—tonight—/in thee” — emily dickinson

warnings: suggestive content (not 18+ but be mindful; this isn’t smut, but it’s pretty much all suggestive so….. read with caution!); language, innuendo, me on my historical bullshit 

a/n: i’m sorry. i’m sad this evening, and this happened. my love for jrd and period pieces apparently can’t be contained. there is zero plot.

london, 1840. january.

john shuts the door softly as you enter the house, cutting off the winter chill which nipped at your heels all the way from the theatre to your doorstep. he shivers, rubs his palms together, and stamps his slush covered shoes in the entryway. his footfalls echo in the dimly lit corridor, the floorboards creaking beneath the weight of his heels.

you turn at the coatrack, bonnet strings in hand. “john!” you whisper, your voice like a hot knife through the heavy silence. “quiet or you’ll wake the children.”

Keep reading

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Until you have slit open a small toy penguin, filled it with flash powder, stuck a rocket up its rear, bound it tightly with gaffer tape, lit the blue touch paper, retired to a semi-safe distance and then watched it sail through the air finally to explode - you just haven't lived. Sorry, Brian.

- Peter Hince, Queen Unseen

[rovewritesit]

Here’s an accurate description of how I felt when Jess was writing this masterpiece:

baby, it’s cold outside

summary: for too long you’ve been cooped up. perhaps they will be the ones to change that…

word count: 12k

warnings: mostly tropey-wintery goodness, however: accident related trauma and nightmares, language, innuendo, brief suggestive content, absolute timeline inaccuracy but i don’t care!!!!, could also be described as queen x reader but we’ll ignore that

a/n: this is a little different from my normal, but i hope you enjoy this slow and gentle fic as much as i do. happy holidays, dear ones!! 

also thank you to @dancingdiscofloof​ for your help with this one! (if you aren’t reading rove’s deaky fic, you are sincerely missing out.) 

december, 1981. montreux, switzerland. 

day zero.

in the aftermath of the accident, the cabin in the alps has been your saving grace. though the home is overly large for just one person and a cat, you cannot imagine living anywhere other than here. it is a balm to your weary soul, having nursed your broken bones and shattered spirit better than any modern medicine. it is here you began again, rising like a phoenix from the ashes, and it is here you will remain—happily.

you cherish the cabin and all the memories etched within the handcrafted walls and sturdy pine beams. each morning as you make your tea and scratch behind marmalade’s ears, you hear the laughter of your childhood echoing through time and space to reach you in the here and now. each evening as you shut off the lights and secure the doors, you smell your grandfather’s pipe smoke, though the artifact is tucked away on the fireplace mantle, now cold with neglect.

your mother, father, grandfather—they’re all gone now. it’s just you and marmalade. you’re content, though, even as you crawl in bed and snuggle beneath the covers night after night and wake up morning after morning with the promise of another solitary day.

truly, the isolation does not bother you. after the accident, it’s people—crowds and gatherings and meetings—who have become the irritant. wherever people congregate, so too does danger. you’ve experienced your fair share of hazardous situations, so you prefer the quiet mountainside now. there’s less peril, less chance for heartache.

Keep reading

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yeah but imagine sd!d vaguely mentioning the reader and their relationship in an interview....

is this blurb two months late? yes. did jess finally bombard me with enough inspiration for me to finish it? hell yes. will I ever get over sd!d? hell no.

"This is Mike Read with BBC 1, and we have a wonderful treat for all you lords and ladies this morning. Sir John Deacon and Dame Roger Taylor of Queen are here in the studio with some details on their new album. Welcome back, boys."

"Thank you, Mike. It's good to be back," Roger responds from across the booth, his trainers propped up on the desk underneath his mic. "You all can't see, but my curtesy was immaculate."

John leans in close to his mic, knowing his softer voice won't carry as well over Mike's responding chuckle. "Pleasure as always."

"Okay, let's get right to it then," Mike starts. "A Kind of Magic. Tell me about it."

John stays silent, glancing at Roger to jump right in as he always does. But the blonde simply folds his hands in his lap and returns the stare. 

Sod it all. John was not in the mood for his antics this early in the morning. "Erm, yes, well, it's our twelfth studio album. It was made in part for the soundtrack to the film Highlander, which was released earlier this year."

"Yes, indeed," Mike begins. "That was... quite the film."

Roger snorts lightly. "That's one way to put it."

John's glower in his direction goes unnoticed. "There are quite a few new songs on this that weren't featured in the film that we're very excited about," he continues, attempting to keep his annoyance out of his voice. "It hits stands next week."

"Any upcoming hits that either of you wrote that we should keep an ear out for?"

"Well, the first single is actually-"

"Actually," Roger cuts in. "I would highly encourage you all to purchase the LP. Some very impressive artwork is included."

John quirks his brow. This was supposed to be a quick 15-minute radio spot. Why on earth was Roger bringing up album art of all topics to touch upon?

"Indeed," Mike concurs politely. "I've always been a big fan of the artists you've chosen for your covers, and this one is no exception. Who was the artist behind the design this time?"

"Roger Chiasson," John informs him. "Brilliant cartoonist. He's mostly worked in children's animation, believe it or not."

John doesn't notice the sly grin that slides across Roger's face. "There are also some magnificent inserts to go along with it as well. Done by a lesser-known artist that John brought to us as a matter of fact. We had no idea he was such a connoisseur of illustrative talent. What was her name again?"

John's jaw immediately tenses as he catches on to Roger's game. He's positive his face is beet red by the time he catches his friend's eye. "Y/N L/N," he says shortly, scooching a bit further back from the table.

"We're getting a little away from the music now, aren't we?" Mike laughs.

"Oh bloody hell, I'm embarrassed. I forget how you know her," Roger prods once more.

John grits his teeth, baring them slightly in intimidation. "She's a friend."

"A good friend," Roger emphasizes.

Mike is slowly picking up the tension between the pair, staring in bewilderment as the two verbally spar back and forth. 

"Yes, a good friend," John seethes.

"A really good friend."

"Quite," John snips.

Mike clears his throat lightly to grab their attention. "I think we'll go ahead and preview a single. We'll check in with you two after. Here's Friends Will Be Friends off of Queen's upcoming album, A Kind Of Magic."

"You and I are going to have words after this," John mutters almost inaudibly to his side as the track opens over the speakers.

Roger stage whispers back, his hand covering his mic. "My lord. Not the words!"

- - - - - - - 

The door to the condo slams shut, altering you to John's arrival home. You hear a heavy sigh before you see him.

"Went well then?" you call out from your perch on the living room couch, currently surrounded by a massive pile of tangled yarn and knitting needles. John had teased you about never having any hobbies outside of painting, while he seemed to collect more and more wherever he went. It was hopeless, but you hadn't given up just yet - didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"What a wretched start to the day. Roger was on one," he steams, finally coming into view. You can't help but swallow slightly at his flustered appearance. Shirt unbuttoned down to the center of his chest, flushed red with annoyance, cigarette in hand.

You hurriedly shove the yarn to the floor, surely just tangling it further, and pat the cushion beside you. John crosses the room in two quick steps and sinks onto the plush leather, sighing loudly once more.

"Went well then?" he mimics your earlier response, eyeing the chaotic pile of wool beneath his feet. 

"It has yet to break me," you respond softly, weaving your hand through his curls and scratching his head the way you know he likes. "What broke you, though? Want to tell me about it?"

"No," he states simply. "But I guess I have to."

You smile, turning to gaze at his profile. "Have to? That's new."

His head hits the back of the couch with an absorbed squish. "As I said, Roger was on one," he explains slowly, glancing towards you finally. "And he may have mentioned your name."

Sitting up a bit straighter, you face him fully. "Just me? Not us?" 

Both of you had expressed not wanting to go public with your relationship, especially the nature of how it started, but that was months ago. In all honesty, you hadn't thought about it much since. But just hearing that the secret might be out sent a surprising thrill through your body.

"Not explicitly, but it sure was implied," he confesses. His eyes search your face, gauging your response.

"What was said exactly?"

"I said you were a friend."

"A friend?"

"A very good friend," he reiterates, and this time, there's a bit more behind his voice. And you know. It's a mirroring excitement. The joyful possibility of anonymity no longer being a reason for holding back. Anything.

You grin, sliding yourself seamlessly into his lap. "Why don't you show me how good of a friend you can be then?"

John grins right back. "It would be my pleasure."

[rovewritesit]

What is sd!d (?) deaky ?

oh BABY let me tell YOU who sd!d is!!!

sd!d stands for sugar daddy!deaky, an au that popped into my head in the middle of my afternoon walk a few months ago. he takes up about 45% of my brain at all times, and i accidentally (on purpose?) created an entire universe about him. #whoops

the universe starts here, the sequel is here, and i did an entire sd!deaky night here. several other writers have even added on to the universe which is bonkers to me. @joemazzmatazz has one fic and one blurb which killed me, and @dancingdiscofloof has one blurb (and one on the way) as well. 

basically, i just really love sd!deaky. if you end up reading the universe, pop back and let me know what you think!

below, you will find some of my fav sd!d pictures and/or gifs because he’s so cute and i love him.

the o.g. sd!deaky image:

bushel & a peck sd!deaky:

just other random sd!deaky somewhere in the timeline of events:

okay i’m done i swear

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