#because Freddy did NOT appear out of thin air

[yeah-thats-probably-it]

Behold, the thing I said I was going to do! (x) Nobody asked me to, but I did it anyway. Huzzah

If you don't want to share your actual first initial, you can use a nickname or fictional character instead.

I really tried hard to make these sound as plausible as possible per the way Wodehouse usually names things, so I put an explanation of all my thought processes under the cut.

Also, many of the color category placements are based on speculation and best guesses. If you think you could make a case for the color you're wearing being in another category, you can go ahead and put it there. Category justifications and list of canon references also under the cut.

*EDIT: Some new information regarding the way Drone nicknames work has been brought to my attention. I'm appending the following instructions to the nickname section: if you can think of a food pun based off the name you chose, do so, the stupider the better

First names: This is pretty simple, there aren't that many posh British first names. They mostly reuse the same 15 or so over and over. I used this list (x) of canon Drones as my reference to work off of for all names.

Surnames: All of these are either real British surnames (found mostly here) or real British town names (found mostly here). From Googling, this appears to be how Wodehouse created most of his characters' surnames. I generally tried to avoid names that have already been used, with the exception of Phipps, because Plum really seemed to like that one.

When it comes to place names, he tends to be more liberal about making up generically British-sounding shit or swapping out the suffixes of real places. For example, there's a real town called Steeple Bumpstead, but Steeple Bumpleigh is completely fictional. So I believe my instruction above to mash two names together still squares with the Wodehouse school of naming things, Your Honor.

Nicknames: Did you know that it's REALLY hard to come up with random combinations of sounds that a) are funny, b) sound like plausible nicknames, and c) aren't too similar to funny sound combinations that Wodehouse has already used? Because I do now

Most of the Drones just have regular nicknames based on a syllable of their first or last name (Corky, Freddie, Algy, etc.). Rules of hockey nicknames seem to apply. This left me with a fairly small pool of non-name-based nicknames to use as examples. Other categories of nickname include "personal characteristics" (Barmy, Ginger), "random syllable followed by y" (Tuppy, Biffy, Oofy), "random syllables shoved together" (Boko), "food joke or pun" (Stilton, Biscuit), and "random thing" (Bingo). I tried to include nicknames from all of these.*

I first assumed "Catsmeat" was just a random compound word, which is where Fishbowl and Mousetrap came from. On further searching I found out that his middle name is Cattermole, putting him more between the "based on real name" and "smushing random syllables" schools of thought. I kept them in partly because I thought they were funny and also because I can easily hear Bertie in my head telling Jeeves all about his old pal Mousetrap's romantic troubles. I imagine there are good stories behind them.

Colors: As stated above, placements are based on memory, conjecture, and cursory searches of the text. Some are pretty easy; Jeeves likes neutral tones. Some seem more context-based or depend on the specific shade. Pajamas seem to follow looser rules for acceptable colors, so I didn't count them.

Clothing items Jeeves has approved: shirts in light blue, mauve, and "dove colored"; brown or blue suit; tie with blue and red domino pattern; brown lounge with faint green twill (The Aunt and the Sluggard); blue suit with thin red stripe (Jeeves and the Chump Cyril)

Clothing items Jeeves has NOT approved: Blue suit with thin red stripe, confusingly; green tie that gives Bertie a bilious air (The Aunt and the Sluggard); "cheerful" pink tie (Jeeves and the Unbidden Guest); purple socks (Jeeves and the Chump Cyril); scarlet cummerbund that Bertie tries to justify by telling Jeeves he saw someone wearing a yellow velvet suit downstairs (Aunt Agatha Makes a Bloomer (Jeeves wasn't swayed)); white mess jacket (Right Ho, Jeeves, but I don't think it was on the basis of color)

Jeeves seems to endorse blue and red on some occasions but not others, according to mysterious Jeeves rules. Conspicuous bright red clothing is obviously verboten (see: cummerbund).

There's little data available on green. He approved it once in the form of an accent color, but vetoed a green tie on another occasion. Might be shade-dependent or only acceptable in small amounts.

Lavender gloves and spats tend to show up when a character is dressed in formal wear. I take this to mean that it's a normal color for such, but possibly not for casual wear.

I couldn't find anything on orange, so I made a guess. I think it's a good guess.

I could only find one instance of Bertie wearing yellow: in "Jeeves in the Springtime" he tells Jeeves to bring his "yellowest shoes" and "the old green Homburg." Jeeves doesn't voice any objection in the text, but there's no way in hell Bertie got away with this.

The only thing I can find on pink (excluding pajamas) is the "cheerful" pink tie mentioned above. I decided to err on the side of conservatism and assume that all pink is a no-go, but it's possible Jeeves would be less hostile toward a lighter shade.

For expediency (ha) and because the clothing power struggles become less frequent as the series progresses, I mostly limited my color search to the short stories.

I cannot just casually make a fun little meme. It has to consume my life and turn into an entire research project.

And there you have it! Like share and subscribe, ring that bell (ha) etc. etc.

*EDIT: Some new information regarding the way Drone nicknames work has been brought to my attention. While I still mostly stand by reasoning behind the nicknames, albeit a little more tentatively, I apologize to Catsmeat, Oofy, Biffy, Pongo, and Bingo for misclassifying the origins of their nicknames. The former is actually a food pun based on a real name, while the latter four describe characteristics.

Yeah, that's right, my memes have footnotes within footnotes

[zevranunderstander]

i know its been a few weeks since the marwa wwdits episode but can i just say. i hate all the people who took that VALID criticism of the episode and turned it a million ways to make it seem like it's ridiculous.

no one said guillermo should have felt angry for marwa and killed nandor. no one said it was out of character how nandor acted. no one said that they were disappointed by nandor's in-universe actions.

people were angry because how the writers treated marwa! marwa, like the djinn this season, got introduced as a reoccuring side-character that was involved in plots to about the same extent as him. i saw people saying they thought the outrage was *ridiculous* because she "wasn't even a side-character". dude. a role like hers IS big compared to how often side-characters usually appear. simon the devious, the baron, etc. appear once a season or so, but marwa and the djinn both were (somewhat like nadja's doll) actual additons to the main household. and all of them don't get a ton of screentime or character development, but they all make far more frequent appearances than the rest of the cast.

but marwas "joke" the entire time had been how absolutely bad nandor treated her. like, making her want whatever he wants her to want, even before the "i want her to like whatever i like" wish, and changing her so much that she barely even was an own person anymore and then turning her into a completely other person as a final blow. like, the joke was that nandor treated her like shit, and that could have worked, if there was any sort of consequence to it.

and i don't mean "oh they don't explicitly say that nandor is a bad person :(", i mean, even tv shows where every person is an asshole all of the time (like, idk, breaking bad) still give you consequences for your character's flaws and actions. nandor was met with guillermo being angry at him, but that would have also happened of nandor had wished for a freddy to just materialize out of thin air. there never is any actual point to nandor treating marwa like shit - she doesn't get to have some revenge on him, no one else even makes some offhand remark about marwa, the plot of the whole season would have had very little difference if she hadnt been there, no one EVER remarks that he treats her like shit. And then i just don't get why she existed in the first place? like, were we actually supposed to laugh at how he treated her? was that supposed to be her purpose?

there also just. wasn't a reason why nandor didn't wish for a freddy to just materialize. there wasn't even a clause to the djinns wish, like "oh i cannot create a living human with a wish" that would give nandor an actual reason to turn marwa into freddy.

and marwa, of course was the first woman of color that had some importance in the show and while turning her into a white man and letting her wander off is ONE thing, i think its even weirder that it seemed like the previous episode was setting up that she actually WOULD get some level of revenge on nandor (she enthusiastically built a man-cave for herself, locked nandor out, and for all we care she could have been offhandedly mentioned every few episodes from then on, like, someone knocks on marwas door every once in a while and she stays a minor reoccuring character, this plot showed her having actual independence and standing up to nandor for once and could have turned into a deeper story from there on, if the writers had wanted) and then they. just. dropped the whole thing and let her ride off on a train like they didn't really know what to do with her and were glad she was put of the way.

if there was some emotional exploration of marwa being twisted into a whole other person. if there just had been ONE person, who actually cared about what happened to marwa. then it maybe would have felt like the plot had had a point. but it wasn't just that nandor dropped marwa like a toy he was tired of playing with, it felt like the plot plot did the exact same with her

[blametheeditor]

Mike Messed Up: Chapter 6

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Warnings: frequent cursing. Mentions of murder and death. Mentions of being restrained.

Back Of Book Summary: Mike was just another night guard waiting to be killed by the end of the week. No more, no less. The thing is, how exactly are you supposed to react to your victim never hearing Phone Guy's messages, and instead is assigned to clean the dining room long after the clock strikes midnight? 

____________________

Mike never thought he'd be giving a robot something like taste buds. But, well, that's his normal now.

After tightening the last bolt to Chica's jaw, Mike steps back to beam at his newest creation.

"Well? Does it work?" he asks.

"I'm so excited!" the bird exclaims as she races for her newest pizza creation. She hesitates, staring at the piece as if it'll attack her, but finally she sinks her teeth into the slice. "Oh my God! I can taste it!”

"That's aweso-!" Mike's cheer evaporates as Chica spits it out and dumps the entire thing into the trash. "Uh, you don't like it?"

"Oh no! I love the new upgrade! I just had tried a new recipe and it tasted awful." She races forward and wraps her mechanical feathers around the man in a practiced hug, careful to not almost crush him. "Thank you Mikey. You're the best."

"Anytime," he smiles, hugging her back. She frees him and goes about making a new pizza with her new taste buds, allowing Mike to walk into the dining room and finally sit down. Out of the three he's done, Chica was the hardest to do.

He made Bonnie faster, quiet on his feet, and maybe put a little item in there where if you press the top of his head, every cuss word you can think of is unable to be spoken by the rabbit. For Foxy Mike had some help from Freddy to gather the necessary fabrics to cover his legs and feet like he was supposed to have, also dimming his eyes down so the fox could see better and not stand out too much. He had also fixed the gaping hole in the animatronic's chest, making sure no mechanical parts could be seen. For Chica she got her life long wish to taste the pizzas she made, along with a new system that if she got water on her, she'll have enough time to get it out of her instead of having to shut down for a day or two until the water evaporated from her circuits. Freddy had to help him once again with that one, not able to understand how to add the new system in, and Mike was grateful the bear knew almost as much as he did about mechanics.

Speaking of which…

"Yo Bonnie!"

"You called," the rabbit purrs, seeming to appear out of thin air.

"Fuck you!" Mike screams as he punches the animatronic’s arm.

"Sorry sorry. It's too hard to not scare you." His red eyes look over the man and a grin appears. "You need some help doing something. And this something may or may not be against someone's will?"

"Stop reading my mind bastard," Mike smiles, but nods in affirmation. "I've tried to ask Freddy what I can do for him, even just checking to see all of his systems working properly, but he always says no."

"Did you offer to do it after you did us?"

"Yes. Still wouldn't bite." Bonnie looks deep in thought at this, looking Mike over as he does.

"You aren't going to use this against Fred right? 'Cause if you do, you'll have hell raining down on you from three sources."

"No! Bonnie, I just want to help him. Please?" Mike pleads. The animatronic stares at him, but as Mike doesn't even blink under the clear scrutiny, he nods.

"Our free-roaming mode is systematic. At 12:00 midnight our servers unlock so we're free to do whatever we want. But, if you haven't noticed, any time before that we can't move a muscle. That's because the system also has it so the free-roaming is off after 6:00 to 12:00." Leaning closer, Bonnie glances around to see if anyone was listening. "If the operating system isn't working, then we have a manual switch. Flip it off, and Fred can only move his eyes and mouth while talking, meaning he can't kill you with his fists but he can with his glare."

"Would you, mind helping me?" Mike looks down after asking it and yelps when Bonnie grabs his arm.

"Let's go do it now! I've got so many ideas for what you can do!"

The two race down the hallway and into the office, a smirk on both faces when they spot Freddy leaning against the desk, his back to them. But before Bonnie could tackle the bear, Mike puts his hand up, a familiar voice speaking.

"Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I'm finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact..."

"Freddy?" Mike asks. The cord to the phone is ripped out as the animatronic looks over his shoulder to the two standing in the doorway.

"Sorry for snooping around your workspace Michael. I was, curious as to what every guard heard at night." Turning completely around Mike stares at the sorrow filled in Freddy's eyes, how sad and lonely they are. But then he puts a big grin on his face as he chuckles. "I actually remember stuffing that guy. A lot louder than the others."

"He was such a whiner," Bonnie agrees. Mike fidgets in his spot between the two as they talk about killing a night guard, which he was currently working.

"Can I ask an odd question?" Freddy's cold eyes lock onto him and he can't help but gulp.

"Of course Michael. You've done more than earn a question."

"Well, I mean. Don't get me wrong, I love my job and fixing you guys up, but." Bonnie looks at the guard from where he stands behind Fred, originally thinking he was just trying to keep his attention for him to turn off Fred's free-roaming mode. But, the kid was really nervous. "I uh, wanted to know why you stuffed all those guards."

The two animatronics stare at the man, both wide eyed with shock at the seemingly random question. And why ask now of all times? In the office where all the horror occurred?

"You have to know, everyone who had this job before you was actually a known criminal." Bonnie looks up at Freddy as he talks. "I don't know how it came to be, just that management promised we could stuff the fuckers without any guilt."

Freddy sighs at his friend confusion. "I was angry. After the kids were killed, I felt as if I could've done something. So, striking a deal with your boss, they promised to only hire known criminals that were either running from the law, or never got convicted for their crimes. One less murder on the streets. And every night, we would, kill them."

"So, you, had a valid reason to do it." Mike looks back up and searches Freddy's eyes as they turn sullen.

"Yes and no. I shouldn't have immediately gone to killing. The others joined soon after I killed the first one, no qualms about it." A loud sigh like noise escapes Freddy's throat as he looks down. "Seeing you here though, a mere child, means the last few we got might've just been regular people and Mr. Seal no longer cares. I should've been a better leader."

He turns and walks down the hall away from the two, away from his friend and the man who was going to be the next victim, away from the screams that only now are starting to haunt him.

Suddenly something leaps onto his back and Freddy roars, thinking he was being attacked.

"Shit Fazfuck! Never heard of a fucking hug before!" Mike laughs. The bear immediately goes still but he doesn't stop from trying to reach for the guard.

"A hug is from the front Michael, not the back," Freddy begins.

"Well you were practically running away so I had to do something," is all that's retorted back. Freddy waits a moment and huffs when the man still doesn't get off, and in a position where the bear can't grab him.

"Are you finished?"

"Do you know why I'm giving you a hug?"

"No, now get off before I take you off."

"It's not your fault," Mike mutters. The animatronic stands frozen, listening, and he quickly continues as to not lose the attention. "You were promised only criminals, and the son of a bitch got lazy and dumped whoever's sorry ass came in the door to the night shift. Doesn't mean you should be blamed. If anyone should it's Mr. Fuck. Oh, and everyone who's taken this job too, the dumbasses."

"You work this job Michael," Freddy smirks.

"Yeah, dumbass." As the bear laughs Mike slips off his back and yelps as he's swept into a hug. A moment goes by as they sit there, simply enjoying each other's company.

"This never happened," Freddy mutters.

"Nope."

"Yes it did!"

They whip around to see Bonnie grinning evilly as Chica and Foxy lean into the hallway next to him, each with wide smiles.

"You're so cute!"

"Didn' know ye were a softy cap'n!"

"Fuck my life," Freddy groans. Mike bursts out laughing then points to Bonnie.

"Now!"

Chapter 1  |  Chapter 2  |  Chapter 3  |  Chapter 4  |  Chapter 5  |  Chapter 6  |  Chapter 7  |  Chapter 8  |  Chapter 9

[babybluebex]

𝖌𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝖉𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖗 𝖐𝖗𝖊𝖎𝖟𝖑𝖊𝖗 | 𝔢𝔭𝔦𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔢

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 | epilogue of good doctor kreizler // five years after friedrich's birth, you and laszlo reconcile your lives, and realize that sometimes you must live through evil in order to see the best. 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 | laszlo kreizler (the alienist, 2018-) x female!reader (y/n) 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 | 2.7k 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 | references to torture, references to bodily harm, mentions of death/murder, vague reference to infant death, trauma regarding pregnancy/birth, aftermath of kidnapping, THIS IS A HAPPY ENDING I SWEAR 𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊 | and here it is, the epilogue! thank you to everyone who has read this and stayed with the story for as long as you did! i appreciate it, and all of you!

(gif credit to @palioom)

When you woke up, the bed beside you was empty and cold, but it didn’t concern you the least bit. You knew your boys better than perhaps you knew yourself, and you knew that Freddie was truly his father’s son. Ever since he was an itty bitty thing, he had woken you up at the crack of dawn with wails and little sobs, and Laszlo, ever the giver, told you to stay in bed. At first, it was so you could sleep to help recover from your injuries, but, after some time, you both realized that you had been healed for months, and still Laszlo cared for Freddie.

You sat up and stretched your arms above your head, and you peeked out the window to maybe catch a glimpse of your strong boy. Even though it was five years ago now, you remembered the way that Freddie looked when he was born, small and wrinkled and fragile. Freddie was still smaller than other boys his age, and he didn’t enjoy the roughhousing that his peers did, but he was stronger than you ever dreamed he would be. Laszlo had admitted to you that he was constantly concerned about Freddie; after all, not being able to breastfeed had to have affected him greatly. So far, though, Freddie seemed just as good as other little boys.

Just as you looked out the window, you watched Freddie race across the yard, jumping to avoid something in his path, and you heard his shouts and giggles. “Papa!” you heard your son call distantly. “Look! A frog!”

“Oh, Freddie, don’t touch him!” Laszlo called, and you chuckled as you rose from bed. “He might be asleep, liebchen.”

You listened to your husband and son chatter amongst themselves outside the wall of the wooden cabin, and you moved from the bed to your small armoire. It was summer in upstate New York, and even sitting on the porch of your small cabin made a sweat appear on your brow. Thankfully, the isolation of the cabin allowed for you to dress down, some days only in your chemise and a thin skirt. You could tie your hair up in any fashion that you pleased, without the threat of society magazines commenting on your unsightly appearance (not that they didn’t already; marrying Laszlo was a scandal in itself, let alone everything he ‘let you get away with’, as the gossip rags put it), and, some days, if Freddie gave you his big doe eyes and begged, you would pull your skirt up and play with him in the lake.

You dressed yourself carefully. There was some stiffness in your wrists, even years on, but a quick rotation and a pop of the joint relieved the pain most of the time. It felt like it had taken eons for all of your injuries to heal, but eventually the cuts faded into scars and broken bones mended themself. But you still had the thoughts of it. The memory of the pain plagued your dreams, and you would wake up in the night, drenched in sweat and shaking, because your mind told you that time just could not heal your wounds. Laszlo, though, your dearest love, would shush you and calm you down, and he would hold you for however long you desired. There was still a bit of lingering pain attached to your breasts, but that was something you figured would never go away.

The air outside the cabin was already heavy and sticky when you stepped onto the porch, and you watched Freddie jump around at the pebbled shore of the lake. It wasn’t far off from the front of the cabin, and you settled yourself in one of the wooden rocking chairs as Freddie bent down and picked up something in his little hand. “Papa!” he called, his voice as sweet as honey. Freddie had your American voice, but every so often, his papa’s German voice would peek through, and it warmed your heart. Friedrich Wolfgang Kreizler truly was your child, but he was Laszlo’s as well. “Papa! This pebble looks like a heart!”

From the side of the house came a call of, “Does it? Bring it here, let me see,” and Laszlo appeared. You smiled at the sight of him: his shirt sleeves were buttoned at the wrists, as always, but he wore only his waistcoat and slacks, the bottoms rolled up to allow him to play in the water with his son. He hadn’t bothered to fix his hair, and the long, dark strands fell onto his forehead. The summer sun had bleached his hair a little, the ends turned the color of caramels, but it only added to his beauty. The three of you had only been at the small vacation home for maybe a week and a half at that point, but he had eschewed grooming his beard, and it grew into a beast that made every kiss tickle.

Freddie turned to look at Laszlo, and his eyes got big when he spotted you. “Mommy!” he cried and dropped the heart-shaped pebble, and he ran in pursuit of you. You caught your little creature as he jumped into your lap, and he placed a big kiss on your cheek. Freddie was the spitting image of his father, the same dark and curious eyes paired with a soft face and red, freckled cheeks. His hair was a bit lighter than Laszlo’s, just like in old photographs of your husband from his Harvard days, but Freddie was still a handsome little gentleman. “‘Morning, Mommy!”

“Oh, good morning, baby!” you laughed, and you hugged Freddie tight and landed a kiss on his face. “I see you’re up and at’em today. Did Papa wake you up, or you him?”

“For once, he tried to sleep in,” Laszlo said, taking the little wooden steps up to the porch with a pleasant hop. You settled Freddie on your hip but allowed him to stretch to hug Laszlo around his neck, and Freddie nuzzled his cheek against Papa’s whiskers. “But I had heard all sorts of frogs and bugs throughout the night, and I just had to see them.”

“I saw a frog, Mommy,” Freddie said. “He was all big and fat and made a noise like this.” Then, Freddie began to imitate the deep croaking that the frog had, and the sound of it made you laugh.

“Did he?” you asked. “Sounds like Papa after a night at Delmonico’s.”

“Hey,” Laszlo chuckled in fake offense, and he put his arm around your waist. He settled a gentle kiss on your temple, sitting on the sturdy arm of the chair as his left arm went around your shoulders, and Freddie gently took his father’s right hand in his. Freddie had always been very gentle and careful with Laszlo, and you knew how much your husband appreciated it. In that moment, Laszlo smiled, and his weak hand carefully clasped Freddie’s. “Friedrich, go play, I need to speak with your mother.”

Freddie slid down your lap and kissed your cheek once more before flitting off the porch and going in pursuit of his heart-shaped rock once more, and Laszlo sighed as he watched his son. “What a little wonder he is,” Laszlo whispered.

You nodded, and you worried your bottom lip with your teeth. “Is something the matter, my darling?” you asked. “You seem troubled.”

“In honesty, I am,” Laszlo told you. “I’m worried about you.”

“Me?” you said, and Laszlo nodded. “Goodness, why? I’m perfectly alright. I’m on holiday with my family, what could be wrong?”

Laszlo tilted his head as he looked at you, and he shrugged. “You tell me,” he said. “You have been acting strangely since we came here, and I’m only concerned for you. Do your wrists hurt? Your breasts?”

“No, no,” you whispered, but your hands clasped around your wrists anyway. You knew exactly what Laszlo was talking about, and you hesitated to tell him the truth in fear that he would worry himself to death. You had noticed irregularities in yourself about four months ago that you had only ever experienced once before, the exhaustion and irritability and missed menstrual cycles, and you had gone to a doctor to have it confirmed the day before you, Laszlo, and Freddie traveled up the coast. You knew, of course, that you must tell your husband that you were once again carrying his child, but, after the ordeal surrounding Friedrich, you knew how hard Laszlo would take it. After all, he was the one who had examined you all those years ago and decided that, because of the hack-job that Beecham had turned your body into, you would never have children again. You didn’t want Laszlo to doubt his own abilities or expertise, and you also knew that he would be extra vigilant this time around. Knowing your Las, perhaps too vigilant. “Las, my love... “ you started.

“What is it?” Laszlo asked. “My dearest, after five years together, after everything we’ve been through, you can tell me anything.” Then, his face fell, and he mumbled out, “You… You aren’t rethinking our marriage, are you?”

“No!” you said quickly. “I would never do such a thing, Laszlo! I love you, darling, I’m just not sure how to tell you this…” You released your bottom lip, and you took Laszlo’s hand in yours. For a moment, you stroked your thumb along the back of his right hand, admiring the thin skin and blue veins, and you sighed. Then, carefully, you tugged Laszlo’s hand towards your body and settled it right over your belly. There bump hadn’t grown yet, and Laszlo’s dark brows furrowed in confusion for a moment, and then his eyes turned as big as dinner plates. You couldn’t help but smile as Laszlo’s eyes turned glossy, and he swallowed thickly.

���We’re going to have a baby?” he whispered, his voice cracking with his emotions. “B-But, my dearest, I thought you couldn’t—”

“I thought the same,” you told him. “I truly did. But it seems as if Friedrich will have a sister by his birthday.”

Laszlo gave a little hiccup, and fat tears finally welled from his eyes. “You’re having a girl?”

You couldn’t mistake his tone of voice; it was of a hopeful father, a man who desperately wanted a daughter but would never admit it. You knew that Laszlo would have loved any sort of child you gave him, but you also saw the way he treated his students. If a little girl’s hair ribbon was coming loose, he would gently stop them and fix it for them, which always garnered him a “Thanks, Dr. Kreizler!” as the girls skipped away. “Do you want a girl?” you asked.

Laszlo sniffled, and he pawed at his face to rid his tears. “I’ve always wanted a girl,” he whispered. “She’ll look just like you.”

“Stop crying, my love,” you chuckled lightly, and Laszlo leaned down to capture your mouth in a sweet, tearful kiss. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m happy,” Laszlo said, connecting his lips to yours once more. “I am so happy, the happiest I’ve been in years. When do you want to tell our creature?”

“Whenever you do,” you whispered. “I’m okay with keeping this a secret until we return home.”

“I agree,” Laszlo whispered, and he kissed you one last time. His free hand clutched your cheek, his right still firm on your belly, and his tongue gently touched your lips. You opened up for him, and your heart thrummed with life as your husband kissed you with a renewed passion. Your dearest Laszlo, your soulmate, your husband, the father of your child, of both of your children. You thought back to when you first met him, all those years ago, a fresh-faced girl that was simply a secretary for the New York Police Department. You could still remember the emerald waistcoat he wore that day; it hung in the back of the closet now, as it didn’t fit Laszlo’s hearty frame anymore. He had said that he hoped to pass it on to Freddie one day, and you could only imagine your little boy, the tiniest thing you had ever seen and loved, growing big enough to fit into his father’s clothing.

One day, you thought, Freddie would meet a girl. He would meet a girl that would enchant him, confuse him, love him, and terrify him, and you could almost see your grown boy coming to you and asking for advice on how to propose. In your imagination, Friedrich W. Kreizler would look exactly like his father, dark hair and a nice beard, shining eyes, freckles abound, and he would clench his jaw when he was sad the same way that Laszlo did. One day, Friedrich would marry this girl, and one day, he would tell you that he was going to be a father. You looked out to your baby and found him examining a toad with every inch of his father’s own brain, and you tried to imagine your mature son holding his own wriggling baby. Would he cry, as his father had done? Would he be proud of the fruit that he bore?

“Freddie!” you called, watching your baby reach out to the toad. “Don’t disturb him, my love! Come here!”

Freddie instantly tore across the front meadow to reach you, and he clambered up into your lap and wrapped his arms around your neck. “Have you had breakfast?” you asked.

“No,” Freddie replied. “But look, Mommy! My tooth is coming loose!” To illustrate his point, your son opened his mouth wide and wiggled one of his front teeth with the tip of his tongue, and you playfully cringed.

“How neat,” you chuckled. “You know, when it falls out, you’ll get a visit from the tooth fairy.”

“The who?” Laszlo asked from beside you, and you laughed at him.

“The tooth fairy!” you repeated. “You know! He comes and collects little children’s teeth that have fallen out, and he leaves little prizes for them! Surely, you know!”

“This is something we did not have in Germany,” Laszlo chuckled. “But, yes. Friedrich will surely receive a prize when this tooth falls out. What would you like?”

Freddie shrugged, and he still played with his tooth when he closed his mouth. “I want a little sister,” he said after a moment, and Laszlo’s dark eyes went wide before a flush invaded his cheeks. “Billy at school’s got a little sister, and he says she always plays ball with him.”

You tried to hide your amusement as you looked at your husband, and Laszlo ruffled up Freddie’s hair. “I’m sure that can be arranged, little man,” he said. Laszlo pursed his pink lips for a moment, and, softly, he added, “I love you, Freddie. You know that, yes?”

“Yeah,” Freddie replied. Of course he knew how much his father loved him, and the thought of it surely tugged at Laszlo’s heart. You thought about the promises that he had made back when you were pregnant, about how he would treat your child the way his own father never did, and you knew that, whenever Laszlo told Freddie that he loved him (which was often), it was never frivolous. Laszlo loved Freddie. He cleaned up his scraped knees and read to him at night and brushed his hair for him, and you loved to watch Laszlo be a father. He was so good at it, too. But you never had any doubts about that.

“Good,” Laszlo said, and he sat back a bit in his seat. Carefully, he used his good hand to slowly roll up the right sleeve of his shirt, and your eyes lingered on the scars that he hated. That lame limb, the clipped wing; this was the hand that had caressed you, that healed you, that protected you. Slowly, Laszlo rolled up his other sleeve, his fingers moving a little clumsily, and he took a heavy breath before securing his right wrist in his grip and positioning it over your shoulders. The feeling of his soft skin on your neck made tears prickle at your eyes, and his other arm went around Freddie. He held his family close, kissed your cheek and Freddie’s head, and, finally, the good Dr. Kreizler’s body relaxed. “That’s good.”

[cupids-crystals]

Cupid Crystals (Fred Weasley)

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Fred becomes infatuated with reader after accidentally coming into contact with a new shop product.

A/N: No warnings, just fluff!! In case anyone was wondering, this is where my username comes from!! No reader pronouns. My requests are open!!

Dating Fred Weasley meant that you found yourself volunteering in the joke shop night and day. You stocked shelves on the weekends and spent many midnights helping with inventory counts. Nearly half of your dates with the oldest Weasley twin took place in the small office while George took care of the customers.

You loved being in the shop, though. The atmosphere was something indescribable; the sounds of laughter seemed to be permanently ingrained in the air and you wondered how anyone could be upset surrounded by the colorful and curious products.

Fred and George had been tirelessly working on a new line of products for months and the unveiling was only a few days away. One product was a new take on a wizarding favorite – a love potion that only lasted a short amount of time.

Fred was stacking the new love potions – Cupid Crystals as he so cleverly named them – onto the display while you and George were working to set up other areas of the shop. The bright pink concoctions swirled in heart shaped glass bottles as Fred crowded them onto the display stand in the front of the store. He absentmindedly slid the potions out of the box, mind focused on the work the three of you had left before the unveiling of the new products.

Scanning the store for his next task, Fred hurriedly shoved the last bottle onto the full surface. His jarring movement pushed one blush colored bottle off the stand, causing it to crash into the floor. Hearing the commotion, you glanced over to see Fred crouched over the mess a few feet from you. You made your way over to him, ready to help clean whatever mess he had made.

“D’you need help, Freddie?”

The redhead turned to face you, his eyes wide and a dopey grin taking over his features. His hand raised towards you, fingers outstretched to grab onto the hem of your shirt.

“Y/n, I’m so glad you’re here. Missed you so much.” His words were lethargic and slurred, causing you to raise your eyebrows at his odd speech. His fingers curled tighter into the material of your shirt, pulling you closer to him.

“You alright, Fred?”

He nodded, slinging his arms around your waist from where he sat in the floor. When you glanced over, you noticed that one of the Cupid Crystal bottles was shattered next to him. You quickly connected the dots, realizing that Fred must’ve be acting this way because he inhaled too much of the love potion.

His head came to rest on your covered abdomen and you ran your fingers through his bright hair, stifling your laughter at the state of your boyfriend. He was practically purring from the attention as you scratched lightly at his scalp. George had made his way over to the two of you, eyes wide at the scene before him.

“Is he alright?”

You nodded with a look of apprehension. “He inhaled some of the love potion, I think.”

George huffed, eyes downcast onto his brother. He chuckled slightly at the predicament as he moved towards the two of you. Hearing his footsteps, Fred glanced up at George and then up at you.

“Well, he isn’t going to be any help for a while. Why don’t you try to keep him upstairs while the potion wears off? Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.”

Listening to George’s instructions, you nodded and attempted to pull the lanky redhead off of you. Fred only tightened his grip and pressed the side of his face further into the material of your shirt. George was in a state of laughter as he left to grab his wand to clean spilled potion.

Trying again to get your boyfriend to move, you cupped his cheeks in your palms and pulled his attention to you. “Fred, darling, will you come with me? I need to get something from the apartment.”

He nodded and rose to his feet, his hands scrambling to keep ahold of you in any way he could. The two of you shuffled towards the stairs, Fred’s arms wrapped around your shoulders while you lugged him through the shop; his awkward and clumsy steps made the trip upstairs nearly twice as long as usual.

When you finally opened the front door, you pulled Fred to the living room and deposited him onto the couch. He curled into the soft material as you glanced around the room for something to keep him occupied. Deciding that you weren’t close enough, Fred sat up suddenly, bringing your attention back to him. He grabbed onto your hand and tugged you to sit next to him on the couch.

“Y/n, you look so pretty. You’re too far away, wanna see how pretty you are.”

Your face warmed at his overt compliments; Fred was always vocal about his affection towards you, but the sudden openness to his words made your cheeks burn.

Fred couldn’t seem to sit still beside you. He moved his hands over your arms, watching his fingertips as they ran across your skin. Still under the affect of the potion, he muttered a string of praises directed at you. The words blended together as he rambled on without a filter.

“- and I just love you so much. Did you know that? Did I tell you yet? I should tell you more. I’ll tell you ten times a day. No, a hundred!”

You groaned at the constant chatter coming from the boy beside you. Surely, you thought, he would pass out if he didn’t take a breath soon. An idea popped into your head of how to pass the time.

“Fred, darling, why don’t we take a nap?”

He stilled at your suggestion, seemingly pondering the option. In a hesitant voice, he answered, “you’ll stay with me?”

You nodded earnestly, moving to lay flat on the couch. You patted the spot next to you, prompting him to lay down as well. The two of you were in a tangle of limbs as Fred tried to stay attached to you. His head rested on your chest and his arms were wound tightly around your frame, practically covering you completely as his body laid overtop yours.

The two of you rested in the quiet apartment, the only sound being Fred’s occasional murmured compliment. His eyelids drooped and he relaxed his grip on you, content with the rise and fall of your chest against his cheek. You were clearly amused with the situation as you giggled at the words tumbling from his lips.

“S’pretty, y/n.”

“Shh.”

“Just love you so much.”

“I love you too, darling. Go to sleep, please.”

After a few rounds of back-and-forth chatter, his light snores filled your ears. You sighed in relief, hoping that he would sleep away the effects of the potion. Your fingers ran over his back lightly, finding comfort in his peaceful aura.

Closing your eyes, you began to feel drowsy as well. Before you could fall asleep, though, you heard the front door crack open and the sound of footsteps move through the apartment. George appeared in your line of sight, a mischievous grin taking over his features.

“Alright, y/n?”

You rolled your eyes and replied in a quiet voice, “if you wake him up, I’m giving you the love potion next.”

He laughed airily and held his hands up in surrender. George looked over the saccharine image in front of him; Fred’s eyebrows were pinched slightly, his cheek smushed against your shirt as he held you in his embrace. Even though the day didn’t go as planned, he was happy to see the two of you have this moment together. George grabbed a thin blanket and draped it over the two of you.

“At least we know the potion works.”

[cursestothemoon]

Can you do a blurb where Fred and the reader hate each other but take the anger out by fucking? Like not in a ‘im trying to convince myself I hate you’ way but like they actually hate each other and that was just a way to get the anger out. Sorry if that's confusing lol

Also, what's the difference between a blurb and a drabble?

i have no idea what the difference is im gonna be honest, i just know they are both short :)

You Hate How Much You Love It

F.W. X FEM!READER

17+ IF YOU ARE TAGGED AND DON’T WANT TO BE TAGGED IN SMUT PLEASE LET ME KNOW

warnings: smut, hate sex, spitting, choking, degrading, dom!fred/sub!reader, language, mentions of blood, unedited (i am sorry once again)

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself, Weasley?”

“Already did last night, love.”

“Hit one more blunger in my direction and I’ll beat you with my broom!”

“Maybe if you learned to stay out of my way you wouldn’t be such an easy target.” 

You held in another snarky remark, you could tell your captain was nearing the end of his patience with you and Fred. 

The game had started with Fred teasing you as you walked onto the pitch, and continued as you mounted your brooms . The anger had always been there, neither of you too fond of the other. Fred was a pompous, careless, big-headed, inconsiderate, slimy git- to put it nicely. Your hatred for the ginger ass was so out of nowhere your friends just assumed you fancied him or something, but you couldn’t bring yourself to think he was attractive beyond just surface level appearance. Sure physically you could say he was good looking, but his personality made you want throw him off the astronomy tower. 

Fred thought similarly of you, sure you were beyond sexy and incredibly hot- something he liked to tell you to get you all riled up- but he couldn’t stand your personality, you infuriated him. That’s how the agreement was made, a perfect set up, all based off of one common interest.

You two shared a libido that was so high you could see it from space, and obviously feelings wouldn’t be an issue because it was more than clear that that was the last thing either of you wanted. 

“You’re a cheat.” You growled at Fred as he pushed you into a near by broom cupboard.

He gave a mocking laugh before getting close to your face, “Don’t be such a nagging bitch.”

“You’re lucky you’re a good fuck, or else I’d castrate you right here.” You bit back, not backing down in his efforts to intimidate you. 

Suddenly, your head lulled to the side, a sharp sting murmuring on the skin of your cheek. 

“Then what would keep that slutty mouth of yours busy, hm?”

The air in the room was thick with sexual tension, your hand slowly trailing up his chest before gripping his neck. The action made Fred smile, a teasing, mocking smirk that had arousal pooling in your panties. 

“I dare you.”

His tone was calm and alarmingly stoic, but before you could decide if you did actually want to or not, Fred brought his own hand up to wrap around your throat not hesitating to add pressure. He pushed you back into the stone wall, his lips smashing onto yours as your tongues fought for dominance. The kiss wasn't pretty, teeth were clashing and you were sure your lip was bleeding from how hard Fred had bit it. 

You loved it.

The kiss had no passion, just raw sexual need and hatred, turning both of you on more. Your lips trailed after his as he pulled away, regaining your composure you reached for the hem of your shirt to pull it off before you were stopped by Fred’s hands. 

He looked down at your fingers feebly holding the ends of your shirt as his large hands gripped your wrists tightly.

“That’s cute, you think you’re in charge. On your knees.”

You did as you were told, your aching cunt telling you to let him win at least a few battles so you could get your brains fucked out sooner rather than later. Your fingers worked quickly to untie the ties on his pants- he was still in his quidditch uniform- and finally got the waist band pulled down to just above mid thigh. His bulge was visible through his tight boxers, almost a perfect outline and your mouth started to water. No matter how much you hated Fred Weasley, you couldn't deny that his cock was beautiful. You palmed him through the thin material making him tilt his head back, leaning it against the cold stone wall- seeing as you had switched sides. You pulled his boxers down too, his cock now unrestrained and incredibly hard. Wasting no time, you licked a broad stripe up from the base of his cock to the tip before collecting the precum on the tip with your tongue. Your lips wrapped around the spongey head, giving it a  slow, hard suck making Fred grumble from above you. 

His voice was deep and gravely, “Do I have to do everything myself?” Before he grabbed your hair in a makeshift ponytail, the other hand holding the back of your head and pushing you to take more of him. 

Soon his pace was fast, a mix between face fucking and head pushing making you gag around his length- this only spurred him on. 

“That’s right, suck my cock like the horny slag you are. Hate how much you love it, don’t you?”

You moaned around him in response, resulting in a stuttered moan coming from him. You brought your hand up to massage his balls, tugging and fondling just as he likes it. Fred was close, you could feel it, but before he came down your throat he tugged you off of himself. Your teeth dragged along the length of his shaft making him shiver and wince before shoving you off.

“Don’t be a fucking brat, brats don’t get to cum.”

Your lips turned up in the most innocent smile you could muster, “Sorry.” 

His lips curled into a snarl, “Strip.”

You didn’t move, wanting to push him just a little bit, and Fred was not having.

“Strip or else I’ll shred your clothes and force you to walk back to your dorm naked, L/n.”

The throbbing of your cunt was unmistakable now, pulling your clothes off hastily. Each item hit the dusty floor in record speed making Fred chuckle at your eagerness and obedience. He slowly pulled his pants and boxers off the rest of the way before pulling his shirt over his head, both of you now completely naked. 

Fred was leaning against the wall, hand slowly stroking his prick as he spoke, “How do you want it, princess?”

You smirked, “How ever you wanna give it to me, Freddie.”

Fred seemed to go absolutely feral at your answer, shooting up to grab you by the back of your neck push you against the wall he was resting on just seconds prior. The cold stone scratched at your sensitive, pert nipples as Fred moved his knee in-between your thighs to push them apart. He slid two fingers along your folds, smearing your arousal and drawing out a shaky breath from your parted lips. He gave you little time to prepare before sliding into your entrance, the lack of preparation before hand made the stretch of your walls from his cock mix a sting into the pleasure. His thrusts were fast and hard as he fucked you against the wall, one hand down rubbing rough circles on your clit and the other holding both your wrists behind your back. 

He continued his rough pace, his hand leaving your clit and moving to your neck forcing you to drop your head back, just below his shoulder. He had a firm grasp on your jaw, making your mouth drop open so he could spit into it. The taste was always unique to him, the taste on your tongue was completely Fred.

“I hate you.” He growled into your ear.

Your eyes met in a heated glare as you responded, “Show me how much.”

tags:

@siriusement

@amourtentiaa

@vsawyer1989​

@lifeofkaze

@theorangedrummer

@erinblack003

@famdomhideout

@an2402lths

@escapingrealitybyreading

@readyg0erge 

@maybesandohnos

@therealhouseelvesofhogwarts

[asexualdrago]

FNAF SB: Montgomery and Gregory

The ball fell into the hole as a number 14 glowed in illuminated lights. “Hole in one” he muttered to himself. His joints and gears felt stiff. Almost hurting at times but as a performer he had to keep up his work and make the kids happy. He waltzed over to the hole and picked his ball up to head over to the next hole but stopped when he felt something touch his shoulder pad. He jumped and snarled at them. Only to realize it was only Glamrock Chica. “Hey Chic, sorry about that.” 

Chica had her feathered hand over her chest in a way as if grabbing her chest to soothe pounding heart. “Geez Monty, what was that for?” She noticed him rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck. “You ok? You seem tense. Cheese and crackers, your wires are stiff!” Monty only rolled his eyes and shook her hand off his shoulder. “I can’t get tense Chica. I am made of metal. And what do you want? I am busy.” He growled his last sentence to her. Her response was to put her hands on her hips. Almost resembling an annoyed mother. “Don’t get an attitude with me. Vanessa just notified us that she’s bringing Gregory over again to see all of us. That’s why I came here to tell you.” She said with a glare. Monty would admit that she could be scary at times. Sure he was the strongest of the group and argue with Freddy sometimes and fight with Roxanne but there was no way he could take on Chica when she was angry. 

Some kind of “mother hen” instincts or something like that. “Sorry momma,” with another roll of his eyes. Chica just shook her head. “Look, just... try to relax and be nice to Gregory when he gets here alright? I don’t want Freddy or Vanessa hassling you later for being rude.” He merely nodded and went back to his golfing. He could feel that Chica was still staring at him. Not out of irritation but in concern over her friend. He could hear her metal feet pound against the fake grass and walk out of his golf course. He rolled his head to stretch his wires and pulled his arms over his head. “Gregory’s coming over huh?” 

He would’ve guess that the kid would have stayed away or better yet be terrified of them after what happened but the kid surprised him. He was still shy of them but he was still able to interact with them and play with them. Well most of them. The child was still timid of Montgomery. Maybe it was because the alligator was much more intimidating than the others. He was more of punk, get physical kind of guy, or gator. Taking a look into his room, many people would get an idea of what he was like, or assume what he was like. Taking aim he putted his ball. He wasn’t really the emotional type. Watching it roll towards its goal and once again, another hole in one. 

He could feel his gears tensing again. He growled in pain grabbing onto his bicep. “Time for a break.” He grabbed his ball and golf club and went to his green room to relax for a bit. Before he could he heard two voices coming his way. He turned his head over to the left to see the nightguard, Vanessa and Gregory walking together as they were talking. “I am not sure about that Greg. But you can ask them.” Vanessa told them as she ruffled his hair and went off to do her job. Leaving Gregory alone as she called Monty over to watch him. “W-what? Why? Isn’t he your responsibility?” He argued. “You guys entertain kids don’t you? Besides I have to secure the place, be nice to him alright.” And just like that she walked away. He threw his arms in the air and shouted “The hell?!” after her. “Are you serious? Our regular nightguards don’t pull this shit!”

Vanessa shouted as she was a few meters away “I have work to do!” Gregory’s shy demeanor appeared and shyly smiled at Monty. “H-hi Monty.” The animatronic nodded at him. He looked around expecting Freddy or at least Chica to watch him but none of the gang were around. He swore to himself that he’ll get her back for that.

He felt kind of out of place. When he did interact with Gregory it was very awkward as he would usually hide behind the bear animatronic or hide his face when he is holding him in his brawn arms. It was as if the kid was intimidated by him, which was no doubt in his head. Like he was going to eat him or something. Which was, in his opinion, was impossible as he had no way of swallowing no less chewing anything. Biting, sure. But that’s all he could do. He rubbed his snout and groaned as he felt his gears grind and the pain shot up his left arm. 

Gregory noticed and asked if he was ok. “Just tired kid,” he responds. He rolled his shoulders and placed his golf club back into his golf club pack. When his back was turned he felt something grab onto his tail. He jerked and turned around to see him holding his tail. Actually his was very close to him and tried holding his tail for comfort. He wondered why he was clinging to him only to hear shifting gears and what sounded like metallic laughter. He immediately knew who it was. “Son of a bitch.” He murmured. Looking at the green room entrance to see a thin, jester like animatronic. It’s fabric colors consisted of dark shades of blue and had golden stars plastered on its body. Its face plate was in the shape of a crescent moon. Along with bright red eyes. A huge grin plastered on its face. “Hiya Gregory,” it cheered. The animatronic was named Moondrop. 

“What ya want? I am in no mood for your games.” The moon animatronic giggled and said “I know, I just came to say hello~” He crept closer to Gregory in a slow playful manner. But to Gregory it was down right scary! He clung closer to Monty and tried to hide from him. Unknowingly Monty wrapped his tail around the boy and help him close. “Not in the mood, and while your at it,” He squares his shoulders to seem more intimidating. “Don’t try to pull any pranks.” “I wasn’t. Tiiiiiillllllll NOW!” Monty felt something tug at him as Gregory was snagged from tail and taken out of the green room by the sun animatronic Sunnyrise. “Hey!” He yelled as chased after them. “Monty! Help!” Sunnyrise was slightly bigger than Moondrop and carried him with slight ease. 

They jumped from metal beam to pipeline making sure his balance was on point. “Freddy!” He cried. Hoping the bear animatronic would hear him and come save him. He tried to struggle and get out of the sun animatronic’s grip but as thin as it appeared to be, it was stronger than it originally looked. “Put me down! Please!” He begged. “In a minute, lets mess with gator boy for a bit!” The sun animatronic laughed in response to Moondrop’s answer to the boy’s plea. 

He felt a bit nauseous from the frantic movements before he landed on something soft. He realized it was a pillow. A large pile of them actually. Mainly consisting of two types of styles, moon and stars, sun and clouds. The duo jumped down in front of him and the boy began to whimper as he tried to back away from them. Although no longer controlled by Vanny or that Glitchtrap character, that didn’t mean he felt comfortable with them. “MOONDROP! SUNNYRISE! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!? BRING THE KID BACK NOW! I MEAN IT!” He hoped that he would come to find him. He heard another voice along with Monty’s. It was Chica’s voice, “Gregory? Where are you sugar dot?” 

Gregory called out to them as he heard low growls. He heard what sounded like clanging on metal to see Monty climbing the ramp the three were on. “Monty be careful!” Chica shouted after him as she is afraid that he or Gregory would get hurt. “Coming up!” He shouted. Sunnyrise and Moondrop laughed comically and abandoned ship. “W-what the- get back here!” He reached out to snag at least one of them but they were too far out of reach. “Damn!” He looked over to Gregory. “You good?” The boy nodded. He tried to pull him over the ledge as he was, although won’t admit it, scared to fall. He hated high heights. Gregory came closer to him and grabbed his right arm to pull him up. But being an animatronic made of dense metal it wasn’t an easy task. “Don’t strain ya self kid. I’m toov heavy for ya to pull.” 

Gregory didn’t listen and kept pulling as Monty pulled himself up. Gusts of air seeping through the cracks of his metal plates. “Monty? Gregory? You boys alright?” “We’re ok.” Gregory answered. Tired from his attempts to pull Monty. “Can you get down?” “You for real? It was a hassle for me to get up here! I doubt I can climb down, no less with the kid on my back! Screw that shit!” He can hear Chica shouting angrily “Language!” Monty rolled his eyes and sighed. Falling backwards and laying his back on the pillows Gregory didn’t say anything and hid a small smile in the form of a yawn. He was actually tired. He was hanging out with Roxanne as Freddy was busy and Chica was helping him. He wanted to ask him about them having dreams or better yet nightmares but didn’t how to phrase it. He asked Roxanne and she told him she would dream sometimes but didn’t give thorough details.

“H-hey Monty?” “Yeah kid?” He thought for a minute before saying “Can you dream? Or have nightmares?” Monty sat up and looked at him. A confused expression or so it seems, appeared on his face plates. “Why ya asking?” Gregory’s face said it all. “You had a nightmare? Is that why you’re asking? What does it have to do with us?” The boy shyly nodded. Gregory fiddled with his shoelaces and said in a low tone “It was about you.” It would be an exaggeration to say that his jaw dropped. It was about him? He had a nightmare about him? Why? “Monty! Gregory! I’ll be back with help! Don’t do anything!” 

Chica’s voice was drowned out by the awkward silence between them. He didn’t know what to say. He thought about his restless nights after the incident. The feeling of his body being controlled by a living virus. He was still there but as a passenger and watched in horror in what happened and he attempted to do. Especially to the boy. He couldn’t stop himself no matter how much he fought for control. He could hear its taunts and demonic laughter as it held him as a host till its body was complete. It still scares him. “Yeah Gregory, we...we can dream....we also have....bad dreams you could say.” The boy looked at him stunned. “You can? I asked Roxy about it and she said she would get strange dreams but didn’t explain much to me.” Monty nodded. 

“Well I wouldn’t say they are dreams...more like processed memories. Mainly what we experienced during the day and they are placed in our processors. Mainly to replay like a movie.” “So its a movie in your head?” “Hell if I know, its a guess of mine. There were even times I get weird dreams like I don’t know, like a large chicken chasing me around and pecking at me for cursing. I didn’t even think it was possible as...well...I am a machine.” Gregory giggled. “Was the large chicken Chica?” “Maybe~” He laughed. “But in all seriousness, what was your nightmare about? Why me?” Gregory took a deep breath, he won’t hurt you. He told him what he remembered. From playing golf together to Vanny possessing him with the malware and him killing him by biting down on his head. Monty stared horrified. “That’s your nightmare?” The boy nodded. Not looking up. 

“I...I didn’t realize. Jesus kid, that must’ve been scary for ya. Can’t imagine how that would’ve felt for ya.” “After that nightmare, I wanted to know if you had nightmares yourself, since you seem so...so...” “Sentient?” “Uh...I guess so.” “The gang and I even have bad dreams ourselves. I don’t understand the reasoning for it but it does happen. Sometimes its scary and we’ll forget about it as there isn’t much to it y’know. Just a fluke dream, but some are more horrifying than expected. So terrifying that even I can’t sleep.” “Monty? Do you have bad dreams and refuse to sleep? I did that when I came home...that day... I didn’t want to sleep as I was afraid to see Vanny and Glitchtrap laughing at me and taunt me, and having images of...what they did.” He shivered due to the cold and the sickening feeling of dread. He knew that feeling all too well. 

Monty noticed and grabbed a blanket he was sitting on. He guessed Gregory never saw it as he was distracted by the twins. Well since bearball isn’t here and Chica isn’t here...I’ll try to comfort him till they come by and get us down. I hope they don’t see this. He reached out his tail and wrapped it around the boy’s waist and wrapped him up in the blanket and held him in his lap. Gregory was confused and looked up at him. “I know kid. It’s not easy to confront or deal with. What happened was traumatizing for you and us. I wouldn’t blame you having nightmares after that day.” Gregory reached out and hugged the gator around his neck and nuzzled his lower jaw. “I don’t blame you either. I bet you were scared too. And I remember what Freddy told me about you all being family.” Monty was stunned. The child was actually hugging him. The one kid who was intimidated by him, was hugging him. “He did huh?” “He said I was a part of that family too. Which means that I would consider you as an older brother, Roxy an older sister, Chica and Freddy as the mom and dad.” “Well,” He ruffled his hair making his chuckle. “I guess you are our little brother eh?” 

Line Break:

Chica and Freddy managed to get Vanessa to grab the ladder from storage to help the two get down. Well, mainly Monty as they would just get Sunnyrise or Moondrop to grab Gregory and set him down nicely. “Are they alright?” Freddy shrugged. “Have you seen the twins?” he asked. She nodded no. “Nope, not after Monty chased after them.” Vanessa set the ladder and made sure it was stable. “Well wherever they are, they might get their due later.” “Gregors? Monty? You guys ok?” Roxy looked towards the platform but didn’t see anything. 

Vanessa told Freddy to hold the ladder and climbed up. “Be safe, the twins might be around to scare you.” Roxy said. “God I hope not!” Vanessa shouted down to her. When she reached the ledge, she had to hold back a laugh. Right in front of her was something she never thought she’ll ever see. It was Montgomery Gator, the big, tough brute of the group cuddling little Gregory. He was wrapped up in the big arms of the animatronic and she could’ve swore that his tail was wagging slowly. “Oh! This is adorable!” Gregory was wrapped in a blanket and his head was nestled under Monty’s chin. She reached out and took out her phone. Making sure the flash was off and taking a picture of the duo before coming down to show the others. Who would’ve known that the big gator was a huge softy sometimes? Was he going to kill for it? Maybe? Was it worth it? Oh yes it was!

[swtki]

Break Room - F.W

Pairing: Retail Worker! Fred Weasley x New Person! Fem! Reader

Summary: Y/N has finally started her first shift at their new job, only the guy training them is beyond eager to do more than talk about codes.

WARNINGS: I guess Fred is technically a superior but I assure you it’s all consensual, swearing, retail trauma, working, FLUFF

A/N: This totally isn’t based off of what I want to happen in my own life hahahaha what?

The cheap plastic of my name tag hung off of my collar, the feeling of it moving when I walked was strange. At my old job, we weren’t made to wear a name tag, our names were embroidered on the breast of our shirts. Such a small thing it was, but not having an exact uniform shirt and getting on with loose guidelines was a blessing. Mr. Olivander  was a very laissez faire boss, so the minor tag was a sacrifice I was happy to make. 

“Ah, I am so very sorry Ms. Y/L/N, the boy who is supposed to be training you appears to be running late. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll fetch you when he arrives.” The older man said, looking a tad annoyed, understandably so. I went back to picking at my nails, but looked up when I heard the door jingle open.

“Speak of the Devil! So glad you could join us Mr. Weasley.” The boy was tall and thin, and he hid his hands in the sweater that was far too big for him.

“Ahhh, Mr. O, come on! You know I’m the best employee even when I’m late!” Mr. Olivander shook his head with a smile.

“Right then, Fred this is the girl you’ll be training today. I’m sure you two will get along quite nicely. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have some work to finish in my office. Call if need be!” The man quickly said, scurrying away to his office. The two of us were left alone, and a quietness surrounded us. I hadn’t noticed it before, but he had a full head of ginger locks. Thats when I instantly recognized him.

“You go to Hogwarts, yeah?” He inquires. Our heights were strikingly different, so much so than he had to look down at me.

“I-I do, I’m just on summer break so I thought I’d get a job and Mr. Olivander was kind enough to offer me a position.” I rambled, avoiding eye contact as best I could. What was wrong with me? Losing my composure with a boy I barely knew. “I’m friends with Ginny actually, and of course who could ignore your brother and yourself when you pulled that stunt at the goblet last year.” A smile crept upon his face.

“Blimey, you’re thirteen? Coulda’ sworn you were around seventeen at the least.” His voice told me that he was uncomfortable being around me now that he saw me as thirteen.

“Merlin, no! I’m sixteen, just turned it actually.” He relaxed, at least he isn’t too comfortable with a girl that young, too many boys in my year were. “I tutored her when she was in first year, Mcgonnegal thought it would be good for third years to help fresh meat.” He chuckled, it was deep and I could feel it rumbling in his chest. “We just became good friends, and have stayed such.”

“I see, I thought I’d seen you around the common room but then again if you were with my sister, I probably wasn’t really looking.” I smiled, I liked that he had some knowledge I existed. “Right, okay, first things first.” he started walking to the back of the shop. “C’mon, I’m not leading you to your death or anythin’” I walked quickly to him. Where he was standing was in front of a wooden door, it was dimly lit yet I could see the perfect outline of his lean body. “This,” His pale hand turned the doornob, opening to a small room with a counter,fridge,oven, and couch arranged along the walls, “Is where we will take our breaks and clock in or out.”

“Nice.” My voice was quiet. Gesturing to follow him, we walked towards the large collection of wands.

For nearly four hours, Fred explained how I was to do my job, how Mr. Olivander was to be working the front desk for purchases, how I would be in charge of organization and easy finding. While Fred didn’t have dedication to school, I could see he clearly had dedication to retail. We said our goodbyes and clocked out at ten pm.

It was now my fourth shift at the wand shop, and though it was hard work that made my back ache, it was good work. It was a fair wage, and thats all I could ask for. The training had been completed, leveling Fred down as my coworker. I think he preferred it that way, actually. He joked with me more than he had the first shift, and made cheeky comments.

“You’ve got to be pissed to think I’ll work a double, Weasley.” He was following me around the store, begging for me to take his shift.

“Ah no, love, why would I be pissed before I take you out for a drink?” He slyly commented. I felt a heat on my cheeks, and a fluttering sensation in my belly.

“Fine.” I said, finally putting away the last box of wands, “I’ll take it. But you owe me big time.”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something.” He winked and turned around.

I was sure he was only flirting with me as a joke, something friends do but don’t really mean. We were coworkers, maybe this was his way of passing time. Until my sixth shift, when I realized this wasn’t the case.

I was in the break room, stirring the milk into my tea. The bight had been slow, it was cold and stormy and nobody wanted to go out. Although it was boring, it was nice to slow down for once. To be able to drink my tea hot.

“I reckon we won’t have any customers at this rate.” I jumped, not having heard Fred come in. He laughed as I turned and leaned on the counter. “Scare you, did I?” I rolled my eyes in response.

“In your dreams, asshat.” He got up and started walking over to me, I assumed he must have been going over to the fridge for some milk, that wasn’t the case.

He stood in front of me, his hands placed along the counter, his chest mere inches from my face. I could smell his cologne, and although he towered over me, I could feel his breath. He looked down, a smirk painted on his face.

“You know, Y/N,” He bent down, closer to my ear, “Thats not what I do to you in my dreams.” I made a small gasp when his hot breath hit my ear. I tried my best to avoid eye contact, in fear that if I looked at him, it would all be a big joke. 

“Y-yeah? Why’s that, Weasley?” My voice was shaky as I questioned him.

“Because,” he leaned back, brushing a piece of my hair behind my ear, “Theres something about you, something very different. I think you’re just as attracted to me as I am to you, am I right?”

I didn’t answer, although I did turn my face and look him in the eye. A few seconds passed, and then we slowly pressed our lips together. It was natural, like two missing puzzle pieces finally put together. His hands flew to the sides of my face, cradling it lightly.

Slow and reluctant, we finally pulled away for air, the only sound heard was our pants.

“Perhaps I should take you on a proper date first before I snogg you again.” I laughed at his attempt at a formality.

“Perhaps you should, Weasley.”

-

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Taglist:

@amourtentiaa @rosemallow10 @acosmis-t @anchoeritic @endlessymphony @seekinglumos @weasleyyy @accioweaslcy @fa-me @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @freddie-weaselbee @fjorelaant 

[damn-stark]

Harmless Endeavors

Chapter 4 of Different Light

A/N- I always have so much fun writing these chapters and I especially can’t wait for the next one! Let me know what you thought?! I hope you guys liked the chapter :)

Warning-slight angst, SLOWBURN, typical teenage awkwardness and just a disaster trio starting their new hobby.

Pairing- Harry Potter x Malfoy!reader, Fred Weasley x Malfoy!reader

Takes place during; The Goblet of Fire

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“Alright Malfoy we have a question for you.” George began to probe while he stood beside you.

“Okay,” you muse skeptically, poking your head over the brick barriers between the hall's arches, whilst you gripped onto your wand. “Shoot.”

Fred snickers on your other side and asks their obvious curious question. “Where is Durmstrang exactly?”

“Well, obviously it’s…” you pause and blink as you somehow come out blank. “Well...I,” you gasp as your mind is still unable to recall any sort of direction at all. Everything just comes out blank. “I don’t recall exactly. That’s,” you mumble, “odd.”

Fred and George snicker and give one another a high five behind you after hearing your useless given answer. Finding your bafflement somehow amusing. Because of course they did.

“I told you, Freddie.” George said proudly, “no present, nor past student knows where Durmstrang is.”

“Most likely some type of memory charm,” Fred chimes in with the equal amount of pride as George. “Or maybe just too much dark magic messes with their heads.”

You slowly turn your head to face him and shoot him a pointed glare, causing him to just shrug nonchalantly and smirk. Wanting to remark on your glare, but not doing so as you pulled them both down when you heard the footsteps of your first victims approaching the hall. “Ready?” you whisper as you raise your wand to point it at the hidden floating bucket.

“Ready.” Fred repeated, lifting his wand to point at another bucket, whilst George also did the same, but faltered as he spotted the problem.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Malfoy? It’s your brother coming down the hall.”

Without any sign of hesitation you nod almost enthusiastically, “oh, I’m sure.”

“Okay then,” Fred continued smugly as he poked his head out to get a better view at the passing group which involved Draco, Crabbe and the tiny and snobby Pansy, “in 3,2,1.”

Without a second to spare George cast the flipendo jinx that knocked down a bucket filled with ink so it could drop over the group, while Fred makes a bucket pop out of the floor as fake bricks open like a small door, leaving you to knock down and drop the one behind them. Soaking them from head to toe in ink that made Pansy squeal and the two boys shriek out like little girls.

The whole scene overall making the three of you instantly drop and hide between bushes. Trying with all your might not to reveal yourselves with the laugh that threatened to spill out. Having to distract yourselves with listening to the group whine and grow upset. Draco most of all.

“Come out and show your face! Don’t be a coward!”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from bursting out, not daring to even move a muscle in order to keep yourself hidden.

“Just you wait! You will all get expelled!” Draco bellowed, before he and his group were heard storming down the hall, each second their footsteps echoing further and further away until they were just no more. Finally letting all of you burst out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter that made it hard to breathe. Causing you to gasp for air as you completely slumped to the dirt ground.

“I wish I could’ve…” Fred wheezed, “seen their faces!”

“I-it must’ve been spectacular!” George added excitedly. “Just you wait!” He then mocked, making you laugh much harder, feeling your sides hurt but unable to stop.

“Ah,” you gasped, “that-that was fantastic!”

“You knew didn’t you!” Fred jabbed, “you knew your brother was going to come down that hall. You had it all planned?!”

Once you are able to be somewhat contained, you shrug innocently. “It was just an innocent prank on a couple of passing kids.”

“Sure it was,” George chuckles, “you sneaky little genius.”

You grin smugly and flip your wand in your hand before placing it back inside your robe.

“Well you shouldn't have to hide it, you know we would’ve been down to prank your brother.” Fred adds, “with only your permission of course.”

“Of course,” you mock. “Anyway,” you shrug, “he deserved it, he was an arse.”

George scoffs, “isn’t he always.”

Your smile falters at George’s comment, but it’s just that and nothing else. You don’t let it or want it to affect you because it’s true, even if it feels weird hearing others bad mouth your brother.

Regardless you shrug it off and yet are unable to express anything else after you managed to calm down since down the hall, where Draco and his friends had left, quick multiple footsteps were heard approaching. Causing Fred to grab your hand to pull you with him as he jumped to his feet, meanwhile you grabbed onto George’s hand to pull him. Not daring to wait to see who it could be in case it was Draco coming back to search and snitch with an army of professors.

“Come on,” Fred urged as he tugged your hand and you tugged George’s to break into a sprint down the courtyard. “Let’s go!”

Again the three of you fell into a fit of laughter when you looked over your shoulders and saw Draco had returned, fuming to hopelessly search for the guilty party he was never going to find.

——

It so happened that waiting and searching for Dobby was much harder to find than accidentally bumping into him. And it’s not like you could just say his name and he’ll appear out of thin air anymore, he wasn’t your family’s house elf. So you were forced to pace out the kitchen to wait in the knowledge that he should have gotten the letter by now, there shouldn’t be a reason for him to take so long.

Athena, yours and Draco’s Eagle-Owl was a fast flyer, she wouldn’t have taken that long to deliver the letter after Draco passed it to her. In fact she should be back with a small package or more letters.

Unless...Dobby got caught. No...he couldn’t. The outcomes of that possibility would be out of your control and it would’ve been news you would’ve heard by now. He couldn’t have been caught.

Suddenly your name is uttered loudly down the hall. Followed by small quick footsteps speeding towards you—when you turn around you see Dobby’s little body coming towards you with an envelope half his hands size in his hold, whilst a big beaming smile decorated his features. “I’ve got it! I’ve got what miss Malfoy asked!”

A weight lifts from your shoulders at the sight of the little elf more than at the sight of the letter he carried. You sigh with relief and look down to the elf with a small smile. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

“Dobby is very honored, miss Malfoy trusted Dobby with such a task.” The little elf squeals cheekily, “Dobby snatched the letter from the Manor and guarded it with his life for you, miss. And he never got caught!”

“That’s good. I’m so proud of you Dobby.” You beam, making the little elfs smile falter.

But not because he was upset, but because of the emotions he began to feel at your comment. “Miss Malfoy is proud of Dobby? Oh, Dobby is so happy! Here.” He hands you the letter as his eyes gleam with welled up tears. Letting you hand him a small wrapped package that had his name on it. Making the elf get even more emotional as he opened it to find a knitted sweater and a couple of Galleons. “Thank you! Thank you.”

“Thank you, Dobby, you’ve saved my life.” You assure him, glancing at the end of the hall to see more house elfs come out of the kitchen as breakfast was going to be served, “thank you. And I hope that if Draco keeps doing this that I can count on you to do the same? If that’s no trouble?”

“It’s never trouble. Dobby is honored to help.”

“Good,” you nod with a grin before you’re moving past him, “thank you again and I’ll see you again soon!” You wave at Dobby and he waves back. The sight of his little figure is gone as you leave the kitchens and head towards the great hall to join your only two friends for breakfast. Catching them on their usual table with a gap left between them for you to sit, both at the same time catching a glimpse of you before waving you over.

“Where have you been?” George asks while you take your seat.

You shrug and hide your smirk, “busy.”

“Causing trouble so early in the morning, Malfoy?” Fred probes.

You chuckle and serve yourself breakfast, only shaking your head as a non-helpful response to his questioning. Choosing to leave it at that and say nothing else on the regard—knowing if you did let them in to your secret plan, someone around could hear and tell. Destroying your whole plan and leaving you in hot water.

So as for now it would be well not to tell and just leave them in the dark.

All you could do, now, at the moment was enjoy breakfast. You could worry about focusing on rewriting the letter and sending some of your own later.

“....Mom sent me a dress.”

Fred giggles beside you and pulls both yours and George’s attention to focus on his youngest brother.

“Well it does match your eyes,” you hear Harry tease, making you grin and forget the breakfast you were so intent on eating moments ago to focus on the trio causing an amusing scene; “is there a bonnet?” Harry reaches to pull the exact item of clothing from the box, “aha!” Harry grins cheekily, making Ron roll his eyes and dismiss his friend's comment.

“Nose down Harry,” Ron takes the odd, ghastly looking robe to his sister. “Ginny these must be for you.”

From the side of the table you’re sat on, you couldn’t see the youngest Weasleys exact facial reaction, but by the obvious disgust in her tone you could tell it was just as her voice was heard. “I’m not wearing that, it's ghastly.”

You giggle along with the rest of the students, noticing Ron’s unfocused gaze as he walks back after he hears Hermione giggling. “What are you on about?”

Hermione giggles, “they’re not for Ginny. They’re for you.”

The twins as well as you and the group of students paying attention to the interaction burst into a louder teasing laugh, continuing on as the explanation continued—“dress robes!”

“Dress robes?!” Ron snaps back as his eyebrows knit together and his nose scrunches up, “for what?!”

You chuckle and add a long time knowing answer to his question, “the Yule ball of course!”

——

“The Yule ball is approaching—a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests.” Snape announces to the house of Slytherins in such an unbothered and monotone way, “the ball will only be open for fourth years and above. Of course you may invite a younger student only if you may want to.”

Of course you knew like the many times before, what was to come for this school year, but that still didn’t excuse your gut wrenching nerves that knotted your stomach at the thought of such an important event. The main reason being who would ask you, or really if anyone would?

Of course you could ask someone; and you could see some people already looking at you as Professor Snape announced the event, but you didn’t really wish to go with any. Not to be cruel really, but the reason being, was that you didn’t really wish to actually go with anyone from Slytherin house. Not only because you didn’t know a soul personally but well...it was just that. You wanted to go with someone you did know—which wasn’t a lot of students, but you still hoped really.

“Dress robes will be worn,” Professor Snape continued stiffly, “and the ball will start at eight o’clock on Christmas Day. No later. It will finish at Midnight, so please no late arrivals. And of course.” Professor Snape cleared his throat as he looked to the crowd of older Slytherins, “I will expect Slytherin to behave and not act like wild animals. If I catch anyone out of hand I will take points. So act decent if you want to win the house cup at the end of the year. Okay? Everyone up and to the center of the room!”

——

“...I’m so glad to hear that you’re enjoying your school year at Hogwarts. However I’m saddened by the fact that I won’t get to spend Christmas with Draco and you this year, it’ll be odd having the house so alone in such a wonderful Holiday, but I know you two will be up to far more exciting things with the Yule Ball approaching. I can't wait to hear all about it and who you’ll go with, so please as soon as someone asks you, write to me! I’ll be waiting with so much anticipation. I miss you and I hope we see one another soon.

Love, Narcissa

Of course in that small detail of the letter where Narcissa says to write her as soon as someones asked you, she left out that part that it couldn’t be just anyone—No mud-bloods, nor blood traitors. Especially no, Mud-bloods! That’s key. Your father would most likely come to the school and grab you by the ear to take you back home.

Perhaps it was good that no one has asked you. Saved you a bunch of unnecessary problems.

Like you would care regardless.

“Are you done with the letter yet?” You question Draco as you walk behind him on the chair to hit the top of his head with the couple of envelopes in your hand.

He winced like the dramatic boy he was and threw his arm back to hand you the wanted item, adding as always a comment. “But don’t read it! I’ll know if you do.”

You snicker and walk back towards the door, “why? Got some special news to tell mummy that you don’t want me to know about?” You smirk, “like how you got supposedly bathed in ink?” You do air quotes with your fingers and try to surpass the fit of laughter that threatened to burst out.

Draco snapped his body to face you so quickly that you’d thought it’d just crack in half. “It’s true! You just didn’t see it because it was invisible ink to everyone else!”

You offer a narrowed gaze and a mischievous smirk he didn’t understand the meaning of—or else he would’ve turned crimson. “Okay,” you shrug casually, “invisible ink? Whatever you say.”

Draco’s face scrunches up and he throws you a pillow that luckily doesn’t hit you as you shut the door in time. Albeit you don’t fail to laugh. Receiving odd looks from passing students was the only thing that made you hold your laughter and bite your tongue from going hysterical.

If only Draco knew. If only he knew.

“Y/N!”

Suddenly your attention perks up as you hear your name called out behind you. When you turn you see only one Weasley twin; which going by the hair and how it kind of swooped at the tips, it was Fred.

You smile and stop so he could catch up, “hello, Fred. Long time no see.”

He laughs softly and runs his fingers through his hair, stealing glances at you as he begins to walk with you. “So what do you think about the Yule ball? Get asked yet?”

You shake your head and purse your lips, “nope not yet, but I do see some boys following me at times throughout the day and stare at me as if I’m some shiny toy.”

Fred puts his hands in his pockets and grins, “maybe they’re scared of you.”

You chuckle and spin to face him, walking back as he walked forward to joke along. “Is it my hair? Or do you think they know we're trouble? Or is it my family name?” You giggle, “maybe I’m just too funny for them, hmm? My jokes are too grande for them.”

“Ahh,” Fred teases with a goofy grin, “that’s it. They just don’t understand those hysterical jokes and the mindless pranks you hide in their morning pumpkin juice.”

You snort and playfully hit his chest before you fall back at his side, wanting to add something but cut off as Fred continued.

“Well now that we’re on that topic of dates, I wanted to ask if you’d go with me?”

Suddenly your stomach drops and your heart goes wild like a kid on a sugar high. Your smile drops but it picks up again, going in that nervous routine for a couple of seconds until you stop and make Fred stop to fully face you.

“You want to go with me?” That was a stupid question, but it just came out. Why didn’t you ever think of the twins?

Maybe because you thought they wouldn’t ask. Especially not Fred since you’d see him talk to his friend Angelina at times before George and him would join your side. You’d thought he’d ask her instead.

Guess you stand strongly uncorrected.

Fred chortles, “of course that’s why I asked.”

“Oh,” you feel your cheeks burn and your wrist begins to ache as the habit to nervously rub it annoyingly ticks at your brain. “Well, yeah I’d love it to.”

Fred’s grin widens and goes somewhere between cocky and flustered, but he hides it well with a cool nod. “Alright then can’t wait, I’ll see you later.” He begins to walk back as you do too, continuing to your previous path.

A shy smile grows on your lips and you wave at him like a dork, not seeming to keep your eyes off each other until you both turn to your destined halls. Causing your overly giddy grin to last until you reached the top of the Owlery. Dropping your smile to a small faint one as you offered it to a girl in your same year, Cho Chang as she passed by you on the snow covered stairs.

Moments after, your mind hardly paid attention to what was going on around you as you focused on the ice and snow.

Because of that causing your body to almost collide into Harry.

“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry.” You excuse yourself as your smile falls and your cheeks tingle with a threatening warmth. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

Said boy giggles nervously and sways from side to side like an awkward dance as you both try to go past each other.

It’s not until you grab his shoulders to turn him to where he was headed does the funny interaction stop, and you’re left standing awkwardly for a few moments until he waves goodbye, followed by a soft departing word too. Letting you think that was it, but standing strongly uncorrected again.

“Y/N!”

You turn back on your heels and your eyebrows lift as you answer back, “yeah?”

“Uhmm,” he swallows thickly, “Wangoballwime?”

Your eyebrows knit together like your stomach does, but both for entirely different reasons. “Huh? Sorry I didn’t quite get that.”

Harry shoves his hands in his pockets and his eyes bounce all around your face, an obvious rosy tint growing on his cheeks and neck—for cold reasons or different you couldn’t quite understand. “Uhm, I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to go to the ball with me?” He spoke slowly and clearly this time, causing your eyes to widen and your face to burn.

You could your heart rush again, or maybe this time much quicker, but it did. It was going to just burst out. While also this time you couldn’t help but nervously rub your wrist. Forcing yourself to answer with the disappointing truth—for him anyway. “Oh, uhm, Harry I’m sorry, but someone’s already asked me.” You reveal with a hurt look, “and I said I’d go, sorry.”

Harry rips his hands out of his pockets and nods whilst he answers in the most assuring way possible. “Okay, yeah, great no problem. Okay, good.”

You offer him an apologetic smile and watch him walk back until you call to him, “Harry.”

At the call he runs back and waits.

“I really am,” you assure him shyly, “sorry.”

“Well that’s okay.” Harry reassures you, saying nothing to let your gazes linger until he bursted out with a question. “Who’re you going with?”

“Fred,” you smile sweetly, “Fred Weasley.”

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Tagged- @peter-laufeyson , @swiftlymoniquesblog , @spideyyypeter , @gsvshsjsbs @accio-prozac , @cherriesanwine @kokomaesadie , @april-14-blog, @prettypinkpeachh

[psychedellic-phase]

Ghosts & Icing

A/N: this request is adorable and I hope I did it justice!! I went with the seasons 12-15 gang because then there would be a ton of kiddos and also I love Luke Alvez and he deserves the world :)

TW: None fluff city

wc: 2.0k

Masterlist

“Spence, where does the green skeleton go? Between the pumpkins or next to the gargoyle?” You called up to Spencer, waddling over to the many boxes of Halloween decorations that your husband had accumulated over the years. 

It was barely September 30th, and you were already decorating for his most beloved holiday. You didn’t mind; you loved him and he loved Halloween. So, naturally, you loved Halloween too. Before you met Spencer, you hadn’t even so much as carved a pumpkin each year, and the last time you wore a costume was at a college frat party. Well, if wearing a set of cat ears and drawn on eyeliner whiskers can even be considered a costume. According to Spencer Reid, it is not. But here you were, wearing a shirt covered in jack-o-lanterns and ghosts that barely fit over your protruding belly. Oh how life can change. 

Spencer appeared seemingly out of thin air, looking frazzled, his hair more disheveled than usual, some fake cobwebs tangled in it, and orange lights draped around him like he was a Christmas tree. 

“Don’t touch anything!”

You put your hands up in defeat, “Alright, I’ll let the Halloween king decorate his castle.”

You pottered over the front stoop, sitting on the hard concrete and watching him put fake cobwebs and oversized spiders in the bushes. You leaned back, rubbing your belly softly. It wasn’t that big, only twenty-four weeks, but you felt like you had stolen one of Spencer’s beloved pumpkins and shoved it under your shirt.

When you saw him again he was breathless. Only he could be overexerted from decorating.

“Should I put the tombstone next to the Frankenstein head? Or should I make a mini graveyard in the lawn?”

You grinned, admiring his child-like enthusiasm. He rarely had that anymore. Honestly, after all the real life horror he saw, you were surprised he still liked a jump scare. The second hand fear you felt for him everyday was more than enough; you didn’t need Freddy Krueger to supplement. 

“I think you should do whatever you want, Babe.”

He groaned, “You’re no help!” “You’re the one that told me to not touch anything, Reid.”

He smiled, “You’re right, but now I need you to touch something.”

You wiggled your eyebrows and stood up, making your way to him. You smoothed out his sweaty t-shirt and moved his hair from his eyes, “I’ll touch whatever you want.”

He stifled a laugh, “I-I didn’t mean like that; that job has been done. I meant like you could put the ghosts along the walkway while I set up the orange and purple lights.” As soon as he finished saying it, the box of ghosts were in your hand and he was untangling lights. 

“Hey! You forgot something!”

He stumbled over to you, looking side to side with wide eyes “What? What’d I forget?”

You puckered your lips and he smiled, planting a kiss on them. 

“Thank you, and you better shower before everyone gets here. You stink Reid!”

“So do you, Reid! Love you!” He called after you before making his way back inside to find more decorations. 

“Purple is the color of the seventh chakra, which represents the third eye and clairvoyance, so purple has become closely associated with the holiday as it is very spiritual in nature. Actually, purple has a rather complicated color symbolism because it is the mixture of calm blue and passionate red. The emotions attached to it vary, depending on whether or not it is a blue based purple or a red based purple. Which is actually an interesting conundrum when you look at the color spectrum-” Spencer rambled to the table of children and their parents who were just there to decorate sugar cookies and admire the ghost stickers on the walls.

Matt laughed, “Thanks for that, Reid. But I think Kristy was just complimenting the lights on the mantle.”

Everyone laughed and Spencer flushed a light shade of pink. You came up to him and admired the mess of a kitchen table in front of you.

On one side were the Jareau-LaMontagnes. Henry was old enough to try to make a ghost, but Michael was still too little to sit in his own seat. He was on Will’s lap, patting his hands on orange sprinkles and watching them stick to his little palms. Then he would clap and watch them fall to the ground around him, giggling every time.

“I’m real sorry about the mess, Y/N,” Will said in his sweet southern drawl.

You smiled, “Hey, I said we’d host Halloween cookie day. I’m more than happy to clean it up. Plus, it’s practice for this guy.” You patted your belly and he smiled.

On the opposing side of the table was the ever growing Simmons clan. David and Jake were squeezing green icing out of bags trying to make Frankensteins, and their younger sisters were hogging all the purple and drawing flowers on the cookies shaped like bats. 

The kids weren’t the only ones having fun though. You set up a separate table for the adults. It was kind of like those wine and art nights, but in this case the art was edible.

Penelope got the short end of the stick (in her book at least) and was sitting next to Luke, aka Newbie, “You cannot just hog all the red icing! I swear to GOD Luke Alvez!”

Luke puckered up his face and mocked Penelope, “I swear to GOD Luke Alvez!”

“Oh SHUT UP SHUT UP! Just because you’re all macho and handsome doesn’t mean you get to hog all the icing!”

“Maybe you wouldn’t need the red icing if you hadn’t insisted on making the skull rainbow.”

Penelope groaned and looked across the room at you and Spencer, begging you to help her. The two of you just laughed and you leaned into Spencer’s side. 

“When do you think she’ll finally admit she’s in love with him?”

Spencer laughed, putting his hand on the small of your back, “Never. Garcia is many things, and stubborn is one of them.”

Rossi was next to them, sitting back and not participating in the icing war that was going on in front of him. He just warned them that they better not get any on his brand new Italian silk shirt. 

“It’s handmade, you know, only fifteen were even made. I had to call a guy who knows a guy who knows the maker’s sister to get one.”

JJ rolled her eyes, “Sure Rossi, and this shirt was actually worn by the Queen of England.” 

She gestured to the black shirt she was wearing which clearly said, “Happy Halloween Witches!” 

Dave scoffed, “Listen, Jennifer, I know Liz well. She would never wear something that tried to replace the word ‘bitches’ with ‘witches’. She’s classy.”

JJ laughed, taking another gulp of wine, “Liz? So what… you guys are on a first name basis?”

He shrugged, “Let’s just say, if Philip wasn’t in the picture…”

They were interrupted by Henry coming up to his mom and showing her the ghost cookie he had tried to make, “Do you like it, mom?”

“Wow dude! That is one scary ghost,” she said, taking it from him and licking some stray icing off her fingers.

He grinned proudly, and insisted on showing his favorite Uncle Spencer.

“Uncle Spence! Come look at my ghost!”

Spencer looked over at you, silently asking for permission to leave your side. You smiled and waved your hand, “Go! But please don’t get black icing on the ceiling again. This year, you’ll be the one cleaning it.”

He smiled and sat at the ridiculously small kids chair, looking like a giant, and picked up a few piping bags to make his own creation.

Suddenly Emily and Tara appeared next to you, holding an empty bottle of wine, “We need a refill, Mrs. Reid.”

You still blushed at the use of your married name, no matter how many times you heard it, “Follow me to the wine cellar, ladies!”

The two of them followed behind you as you walked carefully down the steps, “Spencer usually doesn’t let me down here. He says the steps are unsafe.”

“Uh, yeah, if I had known how narrow and steep they were I would’ve just asked you to direct me,” Tara said, looking for the light switch on the wall. She found it and soon the three of you were staring at the dark walls of the basement.

“Okay, maybe I lied. It isn’t so much a wine cellar as it is just a regular, creepy old basement.”

“Full of spiders,” Emily added, swatting at a cobweb on the extremely low ceiling. Spencer had to crouch when he came down here. 

“That’s what you get for buying a house built in 1920, Y/N,” Tara added, as they both began sifting through the stray bottles of wine in a box on the floor.

“I know, but Spencer insisted because it ‘adds character.’”

“Being married to that man, I don’t know how much more character you need,” Emily said, pulling out a bottle of cheap Barefoot red wine, “I bet you miss this.”

You rubbed your belly, “I said I’m bringing a bottle of wine in my hospital bag.”

Tara laughed, “And what did Dr. Reid say to that? ‘Actually, Y/N, you can’t have alcohol in the hospital.’”

“No, no, I bet it was more like, ‘did you know that alcohol is a depressant? It slows down your cognitive functions, thus making it much harder to care for a newborn baby.’”

“Hey! Stop making fun of my husband!” you said, the two women looking as if they’d just seen a ghost, which was rather fitting for the occasion, “Only I get to do that!”

The three of you laughed and they helped you hobble up the stairs, where you were met by a sight you wished you hadn’t seen.

The first person you saw was Matt, white icing all over his red shirt and arms, and Kristy laughing next to him, using a finger to swipe some up and put it in her mouth. Next were the four Simmons children, each with varying amounts and colors of icing and sprinkles all over them. Then you saw Will, who for some reason had a chunk of cookie in his hair, and Michael on his shoulders. JJ was behind them, grabbing Michael’s hands and trying to wipe all the stickiness he had accumulated off of them.

Next was Rossi, who had an unmistakable drop of red icing on the arm of his Italian silk shirt. If he was a cartoon character, he would’ve had steam coming out of his ears. Garcia and Luke were next to him, each looking mortified and blaming the other. Garcia was smacking his arm lightly and Luke was shielding his face.

Then your eyes found the person you always looked for when you entered a room, and Spencer looked the worst of them all. His fluffy hair was matted down in places with green icing, cookie crumbs all over his cheeks and stuck in his scruff. His sweater was once cream colored, but now it was a mixture of green, purple, black, and gray. His hands were covered in icing and sprinkles and he was spinning Henry around in a circle.

You stood there and admired the scene in front of you for a moment, before Tara cleared her throat. 

“What is going on here?”

Everyone stopped, and immediately Henry spoke, “He did it!”

He pointed straight at Spencer, who put his hands up, “Me? What’d I do?”

“Uncle Spencer started a food fight!”

“No, I think it was Garcia,” Rossi said and the room fell into a roar of laughter; Tara and Emily eager to get in on the fun and dip their own hands into some icing.

You admired them all one more time, rubbing your belly softly, before also diving head first into a mess of sprinkles and ghost shaped cookies.

This was your family, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[natromanxoff]

Queen live at Bingley Hall in Stafford, UK - May 6, 1978 (Part -2)

Photos were taken by Anthony Mallan.

Fan Stories

“As I write this I can't believe it is over 24 years since my first ever Queen gig. I was 15 years old and had looked forward to this day ever since I had first heard Bohemian Rhapsody 3 years earlier. Before that song Queen had just been another pop/rock group but BoRhap was the song which for me would set them apart from all others, the song that began my addiction for this band's music - an addiction which continues to this day. I had an hour long bus ride to Stafford and then had to walk to the Bingley Hall which was about 2 miles out of town. I remember while walking a couple of stretched limos passed I couldn't see inside because the windows were blacked out but I knew that it was the members of Queen in those cars and that added to the excitement. I arrived at the venue and joined the queue to get in. I was quite early but there were still a few hundred people in front of me. I bought a Black T shirt with the News of The World robot on the front and the words Spring Tour '78 and a program, both of which I still have although the T shirt is well worn. I was also treated to a young lady a bit drunk I think, taking her T Shirt off and running around half naked, quite sensational for a 15 year old lad. We were let into the hall at about 7pm and I found myself fairly near the front it was all standing and I was quite small so I was pleased to see the stage was set quite high which meant I would have an excellent view. The stage set for this tour was the famous crown and as I looked in awe at its size. I can remember wondering how they would get it to lift off the stage? I can't remember the time but probably an hour or so after I had got into the hall the lights went out and a mechanical whining noise started this was followed very quickly by white lights from the stage, smoke and then the drum beat of We Will Rock You with the song breaking straight into the chorus. Suddenly on a platform in the middle of the front row of the crowd Brian May appeared playing the "Rock You" guitar riff. I remember the feeling of joy and awe, I am sure I must have pinched myself to make sure this was really happening. After an explosion they burst into the fast version of "Rock You" and I saw Freddie for the first time. He was wearing shiney leather trousers, jacket & cap and running around the stage like a madman. It's far too long ago for me to remember every detail of the show but I do remember Freddie toasting us with champagne and at the end of '39 Roger threw his tamborine into the crowd and I had it for a split second before dropping it, I stood no chance really. The songs which I remember most from this gig were the ones which after this tour they were never to play live again: "White Man" & "Prophets Song" both were played either side of Brian's guitar solo and I can clearly remember Freddie performing vocal gymnastics during the middle section of "Prophets Song". The concert ended with a Rock n Roll medley. I remember right at the end of God Save The Queen we all started singing "You'll Never Walk Alone", then the lights were on and it was over. In a lot of respects it seems so long ago but as I am thinking of it now, parts of it are as clear as yesterday.”  - Kevin Ruscoe

“It was fun reading Kevin's story about going to see Queen at Stafford Bingley Hall in 1978. This was the first concert I had ever been to (talk about starting at the top). When the lights went down and Brian started with the dynamic We Will Rock You strumming, I was captured. A couple of years ealier I had purchased Night At The Opera for a girl I fancied at work. I took it to give her and before I could present her with it she showed me that she had just brought the album herself. So much for my Night At The Opera with her! So, I had to go home, take a cold shower, and listen to music. Because it was the only album I had, I played it and played it and I discovered a world I never knew existed. Music up to that point was something that was on the radio. That night seemed to open a new and exciting world me. Not as exciting as I had been planning with her but exciting none the less. My biggest memory of the Stafford concert was when Freddie gets us to sing along with him. Whenever I heard the Live Killers album, it would take me back to that moment at Stafford when I found out what I wanted to do with my life. I write now, plays and musicals, some successful, some not. Thanks Queen for my reason to live.”  - Robert

“Memory's a funny thing... and I wish to heck that I had a better one. How come I can remember useless things I don't want to know, like the winner of the first Big Brother programme, but can't remember stuff which would be far more useful... like how to order beer in any language, my bank account number... or the exact setlist of my first ever rock concert, Queen at Stafford's Bingley Hall in May 1978? Sitting down to type up this review I did a quick search on the net but only came up with a partial setlist which ends about two thirds of the way through. Very frustrating. So really this isn't a review, it can't be, but it's more a hazy recollection of just what it felt like to be a 15-year-old boy at his very first rock show. First off I remember getting the ticket. "Harvey Goldsmith presents A Night With Queen" printed in green (tickets for the Sunday night gig were printed in blue) and the price, L3.50 - laughably cheap now. I can't remember how long it was before the gig that I got the ticket but I do know that the waiting for the day of the gig was unbearable. But eventually that day arrived. Another reason it sticks in my mind is that it was the day of the FA Cup final (Arsenal beat Ipswich Town) and it was the first time I'd not sat glued to the TV from 12pm for all the build-up and the big match itself. If it had been my team, Manchester City, it might have been a different story, but I went up to Bingley Hall mid-afternoon, with a friend called Mark Butters, to join the queue and get as good a standing spot as possible. For those of you who don't know, Bingley Hall is a 10,000-plus capacity shed (a giant cowshed, really), at the County Showground just outside Stafford, and owned by the Staffordshire Agricultural Society. Before the NEC and other purpose-built venues came along, gigs at this venue (which on other occasions were filled with agricultural displays or animal pens) were a big deal, on a par with Wembley Arena and the like. Others to have played there include Abba, Black Sabbath, Genesis, Thin Lizzy, Saxon, Yes and Rush. I remember my Mum being worried sick about me going to the gig. Worried about the size of the crowd. Worried about the music volume. Worried about drugs. She was particularly worried that I was wearing a Thin Lizzy badge on my denim jacket and might get beaten up by some aggressive Queen fan who took exception to any other band. I had to persuade her that rock fans were not quite so tribal as football fans. I also remember standing fairly close to the glass-fronted doors in the queue and the physical, painful ache of anticipation. What came next is a blur - the doors finally being opened, the crush as we made our way through and our tickets were examined, the further crush by the merchandise stall (I got myself a big, square programme, which I've still got). Then I made my way into the crowd, jockeying for a position as near to the front as possible. The gig was all-standing and as showtime got closer the build-up of pressure was astonishing. I was pretty central, but there was constant swaying from left to right, if you lifted your legs you wouldn't fall, just be carried along with this sea of rock fans. Finally the wait is over (yes, I know I've changed tense, it just suits my recollections better). The lights go down. The roar of the crowd is unbelievably loud. But what comes next is even louder. As we strain to see what's going on the air is filled with a mechanical sound, the giant lighting rig (Queen's famed crown set-up) is lifting into the air in a sea of smoke. We Will Rock You explodes into the air. It's all light and smoke and noise... and suddenly there's Brian May, playing that guitar, just feet away from me. The spotlights fall on John Deacon and Roger Taylor behind his gigantic drumkit. Just one thing left now. Freddie. And he appears out of nowhere, Freddie Mercury, prancing and preening around the stage, soaking up the adulation, singing his guts out, clad in shiny black PVC. Call me innocent or naive, but back then I didn't really know about the whole gay/camp fetish thing... he just looked like the superstar he was. For the next two hours or so I am transported to a whole new place. We get the rockers (Brighton Rock, We Are The Champions, Now I'm Here, a pre-release It's Late, I'm In Love With My Car), the pop-orientated stuff (Killer Queen, Spread Your Wings, Somebody To Love, You're My Best Friend) and a superb acoustic section, featuring Love Of My Life and its amazing crowd singalong and '39, during which a string breaks on Brian May's guitar but he carries on regardless, note perfect to my ears. Oh, and we get Bohemian Rhapsody too. It's still only a couple of years old at this point, and although obviously something incredibly special is still making it's way up the ladder to immortality to stand alongside the likes of Stairway To Heaven. Anyway, it's bloody brilliant. Queen leave the stage for the opera section, enabling them to make another grand entrance in lights, smoke and pyrotechnics for the rock-out - a masterstroke! According to Kevin Ruscoe's review of this gig at the superb www.queenconcerts.com site we also got White Man and The Prophet's Song, but I have no recollection of that at all. Nonetheless it still sticks in my mind as one of the greatest gigs I have even seen over the past 28 years, and as one of the greatest events of my life. Like Kevin, I remember singing You'll Never Walk Alone at the end of God Save The Queen, a football terrace salute to a rock phenomenon. What a night!”  - Ian Harvey (April 28, 2006)

Part-1

[ickle-ronniekins]

protection

request from anon: Hey, can I have some protective Freddie please? I could really use some in my life right about now 💕

request from anon: Hi! This is my first time requesting! I absolutely love your writing it’s so cute 🥺 and makes me blush 🥺 could you possibly write a protective!fred x reader? I loved the one you wrote. Maybe where Draco tries flirting and is quite persistent with the reader or sum. Doesn’t have to be Draco but he was the first character that came to mind. Please 👉👈🥺 Ty! Have a lovely day

request from anon: Hey! Your stories are amazing! Any chance I could request some Freddie fluff at bill and fleurs wedding please?! And maybe some protective Freddie when it gets to the death eaters bit…

word count: 2k

A/N: okay so we’ve got a lot going on here—we’ve got protective fred, jealous fred, wants-to-get-his-fiancé-alone-asap fred, we’re a mess of emotions here pals lol. i have so. many. requests. and i had a bunch asking for protective!fred plus also some fluff at the wedding. i did make the persistent male someone @ the wedding instead of draco but i hope you guys still love it!

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 | message me if you’d like to be added, loves!

“Think we could just.. skip the wedding, perhaps.. stay up here for the evening, run away tomorrow morning, find a little cottage somewhere and grow old together?”

You laugh softly and push playfully on his chest. “Freddie—”

“Doubt mum would even notice,” he replies, gently running his thumb across your cheek and down your neck, across your shoulder blades, over the goosebumps rising on your arms, “she’ll be crying the entire time, anyway. C’mon—” he jokes, pulling you closer to him, “we won’t be missing much, will we?”

“Don’t let your future sister-in-law hear you,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “Promise we’ll have some alone time later. You’ve to help the guests when they arrive. Also—you, sir, promised me a few dances, don’t you remember?”

Fred pauses and considers this for a moment. “You sure you want me to embarrass you like that? In front of all these people, no less?”

You laugh again, letting him twirl you on the spot in the middle of Ginny’s bedroom. He tightens his grip around your waist and begins to slowly lean from side to side, careful not to step on your feet. He stifles a bit of a giggle when he notices you watching. “Yes, my love, I want you to embarrass me—for the rest of our lives.”

— -

George, Bill, and Charlie are a few drinks for the worse at this point. The summer heat is dying down, the sun has completely set behind the hills in front of the Burrow. Fred, dancing horrendously next to his twin in the middle of the dance floor but doing his best to pace himself, holds out his hand to you and pulls you into him.

“I love dancing with you,” he says against your ear.

You hum appreciatively as he squeezes your hips and spins you on the spot, and you both glance at Mrs. Weasley in the corner grinning emotionally at all of her sons and their dates on the dance floor. You turn back to Fred and shake your empty drink at him. “In need of a refill, are we?” He grins lazily at you and you say after placing a hand softly to his cheek, “Be back in a jiff, darling.”

You feel a body appear next to you as you approach the table. You turn; a strapping young man in dark colored robes grins at you and sticks out his hand to introduce himself. It’s firm; his smile brightens more when you take his hand in yours and tell him your name.

“Pleasure to meet you,” you reply, turning back to pour yourself another drink.

He takes you by surprise and asks, “Care to dance?”

“Oh, I’m flattered—” you’re nearly tripping over your words now, a bit stunned at how forward he is. You nod to Fred in the middle of the crowd again, “I’ve actually, erm, got to get back to my fiancé.”

“Fiancé?” he asks with wide eyes, but still—there’s something rather flirtatious in the way he’s eyeing you; it doesn’t seem as though he cares at all that you’re engaged. He inches a bit closer. “Young girl like you, already tied up? Shame, really.”

It’s as if this comment alone calls out to Fred like a signal of some sorts, because before you know it, you feel a hand snake itself around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Fred is there; his eyes have darkened slightly, something you’ve noticed happens in bouts of jealousy. His lips form a thin line; it’s always odd to you when Fred becomes irritable, jealous, angry, when normally, he’s the one who’s always having a laugh.

“Can I help you?” he asks, squaring up the man across from him. You can feel his fingers tighten around your hips and it’s hard for you not to laugh at the tickle it’s causing. You clear your throat in an attempt to suppress your laughter.

“You must be the fiancé.”

“Right I am,” Fred says proudly, taking a swig of his drink. He nods in the direction of a few tables on the other end of the tent, “believe there are a few veela looking for a bloke to have a dance with if that’s what you’re interested in; but this beautiful woman,” he turns to you and grins, “is taken. Or have you chosen to ignore the ring, mate?” You peer down quickly at the sparkling ring on your left hand, and back up at the men in front of you.

“You speak for her?”

You place yourself in between the two of them, now both looking like they’re ready to duel, or worse—kill one another; you squeeze Fred’s hand and say to the other, “No, he doesn’t. Once again, I’m flattered, but I really think it’s time you leave. Wouldn’t want to cause a scene in front of the bride and groom,” you say through gritted teeth, “right?”

A bit embarrassed, but mostly a little on edge, he backs away and heads toward the other end of the tent, sipping rather moodily on his drink. You suck in a deep breath and turn back to Fred, whose eyes are still dark.

“I don’t like him.”

You smile cheekily at him. “You don’t say. Ever met him before?”

“N-no,” Fred replies, taken aback by your teasing, “but it doesn’t matter. Did you hear him? ‘You speak for her?’ What a complete git.”

You pull him close to you and whisper against his neck, “You jealous, love?”

“I’m not jealous,” he replies tersely. He swallows thickly when your grin grows larger before continuing, “I just don’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“Yeah?” you ask, “like how?”

“Like he’ll fall in love.” Fred replies, moving your hair gently out of your face.

“Yeah, well, he can fall in love all he wants,” you tell Fred now, pulling gently on his tie, “but he’s not the one who gets to take me home, is he?”

You know you’ve said the right thing; Fred’s lips curl into a sensual smile and he bites down on his bottom lip, probably to keep himself from jumping on you right then and there. He hums appreciatively before nipping at your neck, “Oh no he isn’t.”

— -

You’re both gently gliding along the dance floor, the soft sounds of harps and piano floating through the air between the guests. Then suddenly, there are a few audible gasps coming from outside the tent where the aurors are standing guard; Fred is tightening his hold around you, a bluish white ball of light shoots through the tent, landing right in the middle of the crowd, only to take the form of a lynx.

And Fred is grabbing your hand tightly, pulling you toward his brothers, and aurors are shouting directions at everyone, and Lupin is rushing the tent when suddenly, black hooded figures enter unannounced and uninvited, the screams of guests and the quick whipping sounds of others Disapparating are filling your ears.

You grab your wand from the pocket of your dress, watching as Harry, Ron, and Hermione Disapparate as Lupin shouts, Bill rushing to protect Fleur at all costs, Fred and George back to back as they shield you and Ginny from any spells or curses headed your direction.

Someone’s shouting angrily about the whereabouts of Harry Potter, Mrs. Weasley is yelling in horror, Lupin is firing spells left and right. Ginny hoists herself on top of a table, Mr. Weasley is dragging her down, George grabs your arm and screams “no!” as Fred closely misses a stunning spell by mere centimeters. Fred pulls you and Ginny together and moves you in the direction of a table. “Under here!” he screams, the force of his weight bearing down on you both.

“No!” Ginny yells, tears streaking her face as, undoubtedly, thinks of the safety of her loved ones. This time, it’s Charlie who’s pushing her down, attempting to shield her yet again, from any spells or curses aimed for you both.

“Let me out!” you scream and push passed Charlie and into the arms of Fred, whose eyes are darker than usual, concern plastered across his face.

“It’s too dangerous!” he yells before wrapping his arms around you and forcing you behind him, only to hit another Death Eater with a stunning spell. It’s as if his words alone are enough to sober him up. “You need to get back—now! Where’s Ginny?”

“No!” you yell over the screams of the guests, “I’m not leaving you!”

Your words are drowned out by the sounds of cries, mock laughter, explosive balls of light, and the crumbling of debris around you as a spell hits you and sends you flying backward, slamming into chairs and tables and nearly knocking you out cold.

And in a half conscious, half awake, barely breathing, horrendous state, you catch glimpses of George shielding his sister, Death Eaters being knocked back by the others, Fred’s tear soaked face as he slings an arm around you and pulls you up from the floor, until before you know it, you’re Apparating Merlin only knows where.

— -

You’re watching from the entrance of Shell Cottage as the sun begins to rise, Fred next to you, asleep on your shoulder, the sound of his breathing like a soothing balm to your soul. Suddenly you feel a blanket wrap around your shoulders and peer up at George, who smiles softly and places a gentle kiss to your forehead before retreating back into the house. “Breakfast should be ready soon.”

“Thanks, Georgie,” you say. Your voice is hoarse in your ears; it sounds strange. Like it’s not even yours. Fred stirs for a moment before fully waking, his eyes bloodshot and tired and weak, only having slept for maybe twenty or so minutes.

There’s silence hanging in the air between you both. You swallow a few times—your throat is extremely dry, it feels like you haven’t eaten or had anything to drink in days. It’s scary that it’s only been a few long hours since the wedding.

“It’s really happening now, isn’t it?” you ask suddenly. The words sound foreign in your mouth. Fred lifts his head in surprise, peers at you solemnly for a moment before squeezing your hand.

He watches a few tears escape your eyes. “Yes,” he replies, and still, it seems so strange to see him in such a serious, stoic state. It makes you feel off balance. You don’t like it. You shudder for a moment and wiggle your way closer to him under the blanket. “But I promise to do everything I can to protect you.”

You wonder, selfishly now, if maybe you should take up Fred’s offer from the day before. Run away, find a small house somewhere far away, grow old together. You wipe a few tears away with your sleeves before turning to face him. You can see tears welling up in his eyes, to. But it’s not long before he’s making you smile and you’re letting laughs escape your lips with no effort. “But we’ve just got to finish this, haven’t we? Reckon those slimy Death Eaters don’t stand a chance—”

And yes, he’s making you laugh, and he’s grinning broadly at you, but the memory of last evening’s events, and the thoughts of events to come, hover over the both of you like a storm cloud ready to release the rain. His voice is a bit shaky when he tells you softly, “We’ll be okay, you know.”

“I hope so.” you reply.

“Besides,” he continues, taking your hand in his and examining the still sparkling ring, “I promised to embarrass you for the rest of our lives, right? Our wedding being the prime spot for it!”

“You’re ridiculous, you are.”

“Yeah,” he replies, kissing your forehead, “but you still agreed to be my wife, anyway.”

And soon, Bill is calling the both of you for breakfast, Ginny is bringing you both steaming cups of morning tea, marking the start of a new, stranger beginning as you both peer in front of you, once more, at the blending of sea and sky.

[musedblues]

The Fire and The Flames

summary: In which two baby groupies are born, learn to navigate backstage, and catch the attention of their favorite guitar-wielding boys, on tour with the band whose music brought the girls together in the first place.

a/n: How am I just now writing for John? Jess made me do it, and I can't help but aspire to make her dreams come true. So enjoy this tale inspired and encouraged by @brianmays-hair​​ featuring my very own projections because boy do I miss concerts. I truly poured my soul into this nbd  (loosely based on the 75' anato tour) 

w/c: 16k

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She won tickets on the radio. You pep talked her into dialing the station and started making dinner while she waited on hold. You'd found out the big news when she burst into the kitchen screeching like a loon, and even though a solid five minutes passed before she could properly say the words, you already knew.

You were going to see Queen.

It was the band's music that brought you and the girl together. She'd been hovering over the last of their newest record the shop had to offer. When she caught your pout upon approaching the newly emptied case, she declared that you could borrow the record, after she bought it. Then she told you her name.

"Queen... they're gonna... we're gonna-" You stammered and shrieked, trying to wrap your mind around the news. You'd missed their last show a city away, because of a flat tire. And the one before that because you were dead broke. Now money nor travel affected your ability to call a cab to take you to the show fifteen minutes away, where tickets with your names on them waited at will call.

///

"Come on!" Elizabeth tugged your sleeve all the way across stalled traffic. Her dark curls were pinned in perfect place, her most expensive jumpsuit hugged her form in all the best ways. You feared your heart would burst through your chest, leaving a giant tattered hole in your best top.

The theater was on one end of the misty street, but Elizabeth yanked you inside the doors of a record shop before the pavement ended. The show wasn't for another couple of hours. You relished the steady hammer of your heart, fawning out loud over how Queen were probably halfway through their soundcheck by now, right down the road from where you stood, waiting to see them. After milling through the country and blues section, you ended up in the back of the shop, where a small cafe served coffee and pastries.

With nothing better to do, you and Elizabeth sat at a high top table, munching on sweets to pass the time. Patrons of all kinds scurried in from the weather. While most seemed to come in to warm up, one group of girls burst in like they owned the place, jingling the bells on the door so loudly it caused your heads to turn.

Three outlandishly dressed girls waltzed passed the crates of records, glancing to the occasional title with a smirk, headed directly to the back counter. One of them threw herself toward the display case of cakes and cookies, dramatically ordering something warm from an exhausted barista.

You and Elizabeth had turned back to chattering over your coffee orders, glancing at the time on your watch with growing impatience. Then one of them sauntered over.

"I like your buttons." One of them piped up. The girl's heavy platforms dragged along the tile floor. Her hair was dusty blonde, totally unkempt, waving past a bright green top, ending at the hem of her black velvet pants. And just when you'd gotten lost in evaluating her bold fashion, Elizabeth chirped back.

"Oh, thank you! I made this one." Elizabeth brought her bag closer to her chest, pointing to the few pins proudly displayed along the strap. You'd made the other two, out of magazine clipping with Queen's name in bright blue letters- advertisement for an old show; the perfect accessory.

Another one of the girls gasped, spinning into view. Her short blonde hair fell to her shoulders, just above a big leopard print coat. Two ruby red shoes poked out of the end of her garment, and you wondered where this crew did all their shopping.

"Are you going to the show, too?" She asked with a broad grin, reaching out to bring Elizabeth's purse handle closer to her sight. And as if she was truly anxious to hear your answer, the girl scurried toward the empty seat at your side, settling in to listen while you gushed.

"Oh, yes!" You grinned, glancing at Elizabeth who was smiling just as wide. "We won tickets on the radio."

By then, the last girl had made her way to join the party. She wore a long purple dress and her thin red hair in pigtails.

"It's not for another hour, yet." She sighed, crossing her arms and glancing back to the counter where she must have been waiting for her order to appear.

Elizabeth welcomed the crew to pass the time with the two of you, even offering bits of her dessert to the new friends you made. They each seemed more than glad to settle at your table, glancing anxiously at their own watches all the same. For the while you waited, you learned their names.

Rita was the redhead with warm eyes and more questions about your lives than answers for her own.

Lilly was her younger sister, the small fiery blonde, who did most of the talking- so much she forgot to drink the coffee she'd put on a show of ordering.

And Jade was the wild-haired girl, without much to say, and a smile that held secrets you were simply dying to know. She kept her eyes traveling back to the window that pointed in the direction of the theater, but the building was still out of view. So when her eyes widened, and she stood to her feet in a flash, you wondered what she'd seen.

"It's time!" Jade announced, pushing in her seat while her friends followed her lead without question.

"Well, I think the doors won't be open for another fifteen minutes but I'm cool with waiting in line," Elizabeth spoke in a rush, tossing her trash in the bin and wrapping her coat back around her well-dressed figure.

The trio waited for you and your friend to collect yourselves, share an excited giggle, and scurry along. The air was still wet, but the rain had yet to fall. You prayed it would stay that way, as you approached the theater, noticing the line stretched for blocks full of anxious fans, eager for a night of music. It would totally suck if you had to linger during a downpour, but you decided Queen was worth the mild pending torture.

The group of girls you'd become acquainted with skipped ahead of you, turning every now and again to make sure you and your friend were keeping up.

As you approached the dreaded line of freezing faces, you sucked in a breath, prepared to find your place at the end, and stick it out till the doors opened. But as you turned to follow the line, you were yanked in the other direction.

"Follow us, trust me!" Jade dug her fingers into your coat, pulling you toward where Lilly and Rita skipped ahead. Elizabeth latched on to you, pulling herself to keep up in a confused rush.

"We'd better wait in line. What if we get back to late? We've been waiting for these tickets forever and-" Elizabeth fretted, keeping her step in time with Jade's pace who set your own. And before your friend could go on making excuses to wait in the cold, shelter came into view in a gloriously unexpected way; Lilly and Rita were slipping through the backstage door.

"Oh, no way!" You croaked, eyes going wide as Jade reached out to the door Lilly stood holding open, waving you in with a hurried hand.

The door slammed shut with a metallic thud. The sound of your shoes echoed in the dank, empty space as your new friend's giggles drifted from where they led the way.

"We should not be back here." Elizabeth worried, reaching out to clutch your arm in a panic. Jade had let you go and spun out of view. Your only hope was the sight of Lilly and Rita skipping far ahead.

"But we are." You whispered back, scanning the hall you stomped through, in a hurry to Lord knew where. Distant chatter and ruckus could be heard as you approach the end of the four-way turn. Jade popped back into view.

She walked backward with ease, wearing a broad grin and holding two gaudy orange stickers in either hand. Two backstage passes. Elizabeth glanced at you, then back at Jade, let out a loud laugh, and snatched the sticker from her hand.

"Welcome to the show, ladies." Jade grinned, handing you the last pass as Elizabeth slapped her own to her chest with glee.

"Oh, God." You chuckled, sticking the pass to your best top as Jade spun to lead the way a little faster. You had just gotten so lucky. "Oh my God, Oh my-"

And just before you rocketed into a true blue freak out, Elizabeth's nails dug into your palm, as Jade halted in place, fanning her arm out for a group to cross the hall before yours. It was them. It was Queen.

Freddie led the way in a bedazzled leotard, a coy grin painting his face as he swept his dark fringe back.

Roger followed close behind, his boldly patterned shirt unbuttoned all the way. He was laughing at something one of his bandmates said, placing a hand on Freddie's shoulder as they turned the corner.

Then came Brian. His features were sharp, and his expression was mild, almost sleepy. His long legs branched out from underneath a white pleated top, and carried him around the corner. Just before he vanished, Brian's gaze happened to sweep sideways, almost certainly landing on you and Elizabeth. And as soon as you registered his look, Brian's form was replaced by another.

John followed last, his hands shoved in his tight pockets, as if on a leisurely Sunday stroll, rather than on his way to put on a kick-ass show. His flaxen hair drifted behind his shoulders, and his eyes stayed on the ground.

When Queen disappeared around the corner, and a few workers with clipboards and headsets rushed to follow, Jade had to hurry you and Elizabeth along like an impatient older sister. Elizabeth held on to your hand like a vice, and you traded a stunned glance as you were being pushed in the right direction.

Before you knew it, you were holding your best friend's hand at the side of the stage where your favorite band settled into position. When the curtain opened, and the lights blinded you, the music came alive.

Roger sat on a throne, thrashing about, trading winks and nods between shrieking in perfect harmony.

Freddie stomped between his bandmates, singing to them, singing to the audience. Singing like his life and death and things in between depended on it. You could see beads of sweat peppered across the skin he dared to expose.

Brian drifted from glancing to the strings under his fingers, across the sea of shouting spectators and then to Freddie, with a shy smile. As if to say "look, I'm doing it! We're doing it." Every time the skinny lad leaned into the microphone, Elizabeth leaned into you as if magnetically linked to the guitarist, pulled in whatever direction he moved, even if he hadn't gone far at all. Every time Brian flew into a solo with practiced concentration, Elizabeth let little squeals escape her throat, much too taken with the sights and sounds to keep up her usually elegant demeanor.

Then there was John. You relished the times his clunky heels staggered out from the shadows, drifting clearer into your view, his head bopping, his poker face hardly changing, not even when Freddie spun to sing right at him.

You'd almost been too concentrated on finding his profile on the other side of the dim stage. When one song faded from the next, with all the precision you'd heard on your worn-out record from home, you were jerked from cloud ten. Yeah, it existed.

"We've got to make it back to the green room before the band, so I can introduce you to the girls!" Just like that, your new wild-haired friend ripped you and Elizabeth away from the greatest sight you'd ever seen, before it was even over.

Jade paraded you around a couple of corners and into an unceremonious room; where a single tattered couch, a wall-length mirror, and a table full of drinks were the only accommodations.

It was enough for a band, you supposed, but not for the mass of people in waiting. You'd come upon several unfamiliar, jarringly beautiful faces, smoking and laughing to pass the time- instead of listening to the music. How curious.

In one big hurry, Jade explained that the green room wasn't always so full and you were lucky to have come on a night that it was. That shows this close to home were always a big party.

"Those are the twins, Gretta and Violet. They're always together." Jade pointed across the way to two girls with the same long dark hair and different shades of lipstick. They turned their pleasant grins your way as Jade pushed you along.

"That's Michelle." Your new friend spoke, pointing to a girl wearing a dramatic frown. "She's moving to Idaho tomorrow. She always bought us merch from the shows we couldn't make it too. We'll have to keep the tradition alive for her when she's gone."

You were shuffled through a crowd of fresh, painted faces, trying to grasp onto every new name they were matched with. And when you made it to the back of the room, Jade let you and Elizabeth go, and disappeared.

"What do we do?" You turned to Elizabeth, swallowing your nerves. You'd been introduced to everyone but Jade failed to give your names away. You felt terribly out of place. Not to mention the fact that your favorite band of all time was due to walk through the doors of the same room you occupied, at any second. Elizabeth rose her finger, with a thought.

"Maybe we could-"

"Girls, this is Ratty. He's new here, just like you." Rita had appeared out of the blue with a tall shaggy-haired man in tow.

"I'm not new, any more babe. Two months is a long time to have to put up with these musical hellions." The fellow chuckled, revealing a cigarette from his jacket pocket. The man explained he was a roadie, hired by the band in September, to help with the technical in's and out's of putting on a show, emotional breakdowns included, apparently.

By the time Ratty finished telling his story, just before you could ask where he got a name like that, the band burst in the doorway.

"My darlings!" Freddie waltzed in, his smile glowing, his presence demanding. Almost everyone turned to greet him with cheers and whistles, except a couple of stagehands whose eyes were glued to the groupies who'd previously had nothing better to do than hold mindless chatter with them.

The band flooded in behind him, acknowledging different people in their own ways, between smiles and jokes and sleepy nods. You and Elizabeth stayed back, shooting each other looks. As much as you wanted to mingle, to matter, you couldn't be sure of your place. 

So you stayed against the wall, your pleasant grin relaying secret pleas for help to your friend who answered back with her open wide-eyed apprehension.

"Hello, little wallflowers. I've never seen you around before."  Freddie, in all his sweaty, charming glory twirled up to you and Elizabeth. He spun to great you like he'd been greeting everyone else. The way you'd been starstruck till now seemed to settle at the tune of the singer's gentle and well-meaning attention. But, Freddie was still the star of your favorite band, and your nervous glance landed on your friend to speak as your words got lodged in your throat.

She introduced herself boldly, stating her name with false confidence you wondered how she'd come to pick up so quickly.

"Elizabeth, like the queen herself." Freddie barked a laugh, letting his gaze travel across your friend's well-dressed form. "A queen amongst Queen." He seemed to realize.

"And you're something special too aren't you?" Freddie quirked his head to you, as you stood in stunned silences, still. "You're her little twin flame. I quite like you pair."

You and your friend let out little laughs as Freddie nodded in approval, strangers shuffling past in the background. That was when Roger emerged from the mess of folks, wearing drowsy eyes and a smile you'd seen the likes of from other boys in bars.

"Roger, this is our very own little queenie and the jewel to her crown." Freddie gestured between your friend and yourself, as you both tried to keep the same level of composure as everyone else in the laid back room. What a shame squawking like the fans you were, might have been. 

As soon as the drummer seemed to evaluate the pair of you, and say hello, a perfectly manicured hand dug into his shoulder and pulled him away from view. Roger went without a fight, as Freddie rolled his eyes, turning to face you all the way once more.

"Oh please tell me you'll be joining us the rest of this tour, dears," Freddie spoke, almost flippantly, with a wave of his hand. "The bloody weather will be a drag, but you two will be much-needed company."

"Yes. We should. Shall we?" You spoke in too big of a hurry, turning to find Elizabeth already shaking her head. When you looked back to Freddie his brow was quirked, waiting for a similar decision.

"Just... give us one minute." You smiled, dragging your friend further down the wall.

"Freddie fucking Mercury just asked us to go on tour with Queen. Why are you shaking your head?" You demanded to know.

"We can't go on tour." Elizabeth said, plainly.

"You need to learn to let loose. That was your bloody new year's resolution, remember? It's coming up on the last two months to keep your word. Come on, Elizabeth. We haven't got anything better to do for the rest of the year. I'm already home for the holidays and you're between jobs. The stars have fucking aligned."

You watched your speech work magic. Your friend sucked in a breath that made her stand a little taller. And when you paused, she nodded and turned away from you to tap Freddie on the shoulder.

"Where to next, then?"

The singer's eyes sparkled, as he shot you a look that made you wonder if he knew you were the one to talk her into being so bold.

After your world subtly shifted on its axis, and plans for your near future changed on a dime, Freddie Mercury vanished as quickly as he'd appeared in front of you. The room was buzzing with folks who wanted every bit of the singer's attention, and he couldn't help but spin with a smile when his name was called out from a different corner.

You and Elizabeth shared whispered reminders to play it cool and mingling with the girls and guys who were either equally as nervous to speak to the band, or simply patient enough to wait their turn. The closest you came to making your wildest dreams come true, were the times you let your stare linger on John as he traveled back and forth from the bar to his bandmates. You couldn't be sure if he'd caught your nervous smiles in his direction, but you kept your lips upturned, just in case.

And when Jade started to leave, she motioned for you and Elizabeth to follow along.

"Don't pack too much, but bring everything you think you'll need. I'll fetch you from the station. And just remember it's not cool to be early, but never be late." The frizzy blonde listed several vague instructions to you and Elizabeth whose ears dialed in, trying to decipher the code in which she spoke. Then, Jade disappeared into the night, leaving you and your pal to race home and prepare for an unexpected ride.

///

You stood in a pale yellow hall, knocking on the door that displayed the room number you'd been given. Down the way, you heard Jade open the door of the room she must have been occupying. She'd picked you up from the train station earlier, well, led you from there to this very hotel on foot. But she did help carry some of your things. You recognized Lilly greet Jade, just before the short blonde groaned.

"They're here?" The small girl groaned in your direction. "And they're coming on the whole tour?" Lilly's complaint didn't go unnoticed by you, but Elizabeth must have missed it. Rita was already welcoming you in, when you turned back from eavesdropping.

"Hurry, we've only got fifteen minutes!" Rita pulled you into the room. "That's like, five minutes in this world." The redhead laughed, spinning toward the writing desk where her suitcase and things were spread out as if she'd be staying much longer than one night. She loaned you some fancy french perfume in your hurry to get ready, all the same.

When you stomped up the steps of the bus, you decided not to question how you'd gotten lucky enough to end up where you were. Instead, you turned to flash your best friend a smile, as everyone greeted each other with grandeur. You kept moving, past benches the other girls had claimed. Between them, were the boys that belonged to your favorite band. Whose faces you were still trying to get used to admiring in real-time, their expressions surpassing the charm they usually oozed from the news clippings you saved and called posters.

"Look who it is! I'm so glad to see your lovely faces come, sit." Freddie gushed when he glanced up to find you'd made it to where you were now. The singer excitedly waved you over to join his company, on the other side of a small booth across for your favorite bassist.

You nudged Elizabeth next to John, far too nervous to sit next to the guy you'd never officially met, but swooned over plenty before now. Your friend shot you a curious glare, probably wondering why you'd given up a seat next to the bassist she knew darn well you fancied. But still, she sat.

"John dear, next to you is our very own Queen of the Tour. And, next to me, our personal ray of sunshine." Freddie turned to you with a smile in his voice, as you eased to sit with a grin.

"Hello." The bassist nodded, glancing between you and your friend without looking either of you in the eye. He instead remained almost entirely fixated on the ring he fiddled with, on his very middle finger. You tried not to let yourself stare long, but his hands were, somehow, even nicer up close.

"These two are keepers, Deacy." Freddie nodded, in the most serious tone you'd ever heard him utter. The lilt in the singer's voice brought a cocky smile to Elizabeth's lips, as John looked up. His stormy eyes locked with yours, for a second, just one second, before he snapped back to Freddie, who was speaking again.

"So tell us about yourselves, dears."

And through a few nervous stammers and shy laughs, you and your friend took turns speaking while Freddie traded knowing looks with John. The bassist seemed indifferent at first, but his polite smile seemed to widen ever so slightly as Freddie coxed you and Elizabeth to share more stories. You wanted to stare, to snapshot a mental image of John's profile to recall later in the day when it was less embarrassing to fawn over his features. But you couldn't let your eyes linger long before a blush threatened to burn across your cheeks.

"See, Deacy? They're really something, aren't they? I'm never wrong about these things, you know!" Freddie flourished, looking to you and Elizabeth as he stood. The bus stalled outside of the venue. It was time for round two.

On the solid ground your motley crew staggered across, Freddie latched onto your best pal. He pulled Elizabeth along the pavement and all the way through empty venue halls, into the green room. The singer fawned over the girl's pleated bell bottoms, pointing out his own array of clothes he'd brought along. And for once, you were left on your own to roam between groupies, roadies and band members most interested in holding each other's attention.

"Hi... I don't believe we've met." A soft, almost timid voice came from just over your shoulder. You spun around from your mission to paste yourself to the wall, like the night before. Stalling you was a certain curly-haired guitarist, holding out a paper cup of tea your way, clutching his own to his chest.

You took the drink with a surprised grin, before telling the guy your name. Brian rose his cup to yours in a mock toast. All the nerves you'd felt meeting his band members were giving you pause now. Brian was shockingly easy to talk to.

"And who is your lovely friend?" Brian asked, letting his eyes flutter across the room, where Elizabeth and Freddie were trading bracelets and laughs.

"According to your singer, she's your band's monarch. She's called Elizabeth." You smiled, watching Brian's warm eyes linger on your friend.

"I see." He grinned, tearing his gaze away to face you again. As you monitored the guitarist's withheld smirk, and the look in his eye, you took a bold chance. You lifted a finger from around your paper cup and motioned Brian to lean a little closer.

"You're her favorite. But she'd never be the first to let you know." You spoke softly, keeping your eyes on Elizabeth across the way. Her dark curls and bright smile were easily admirable. Brian hummed, a sing-songy noise.

"And who's your favorite, then?" Brian asked, a little laugh ending his query.

It was then, when you let your smile represent your response, that you realized why some of the girls had answered your questions so vaguely, so far. Why they'd smirked instead of speaking, too. There were some things too dear to address directly. There was something about the spell that drew you here and now, that might have broken at the slightest misstep.

So you focused on the music. You and Elizabeth shared starry-eyed glances and subdued squeals when the lights dimmed, and the band plugged in. You felt your heart hammer to the time of the drum. You danced along to every riff and line together, until the end of the show when the lights stopped flashing, and the band unplugged. And as you took your sweet time back to the green room, you looked to your friend and proposed standing on the other side, tomorrow night.

///

The shadows of the stage were where you felt most alive. Better than alive, like you'd blasted through reality and ended up in one of your many daydreams. As you tried to understand where you fit into the mess when the show hit the road, you came to understand more about the others who crowded the bus.

Rita sat in the back, with a book in her hand and a look in her eye. She watched on with a grin like an exhausted, trusting mother. She hardly ever spoke up, or out, or joined in the outrageous fun. Instead, she flashed you knowing grins and followed Ratty around like a lost puppy.

You couldn't tell if the roadie noticed or not. He'd been so busy rushing around assisting the band with technical difficulties, and more often than not, the boy's silly little requests and complaints. The times he did notice Rita waiting up for him though, he smiled, and relaxed in the back of the room; just before springing up when Freddie whined for assistance once more.

Jade was the heart and soul of the tour, always coming away from stops with extra snacks for everyone, trading shoes with the girls who couldn't dance one more second on their skyscraper heels. She bounced from one person to the next and never made one feel like second best, when she poured them tea without asking, before disappearing as soon as she'd materialized.

The rides from town to town were usually fun. But hours passed and boredom kicked in, striking everyone at odd moments when all they lost their turn at board games and had nothing to do but watch the world zoom by the window.

Times like then, you'd glance to John across the way, and after several deep breaths, you'd dare to ask what might have been on his mind. He'd answer in small shrugs or silly one-liners, but never said what you were hoping to hear. When you'd all but exhausted every pathetic attempt at catching and keeping John's attention, you'd stood to find something to distract you from staring too long at the guy.

You stepped over Roger who's legs took over the small path toward the kitchenette. He pulled his feet in just in time. Lilly clung to his side, imploring you to watch your step. You weren't anywhere near disturbing her position, you knew she was only speaking in code, warning you to steer clear of her favorite blonde drummer.

Lilly was never too far from Roger's side. You couldn't tell if he minded or not. Lilly knew Roger couldn't very well see her from behind his drum kit. So she'd make vulgar promises to wait up for him elsewhere, loud enough for everyone to hear, and pretend they didn't. But those rare times the girl wasn't super-glued to Rogers' hip, he never seemed to keep his eye out for her, anyway.

You didn't question it. You just kept to yourself as well as you could on a bus full of rockstars and they're royal court.

You traded smiles with Ratty who slumped out of the kitchenette in time for you to take over, but you were only alone for a few seconds time. Brian came shuffling near, reaching for an apple and leaning against the counter so he could say something just to you.

"I figured it out." He noted, like a snide, scheming sibling.

"You're a smart guy," You laughed, reaching for the mini coffee pot. "But I've got no idea what you're on about."

"We're playing Scrabble." Brian declared, cocking his head toward the table most everyone had gathered around. "And there happens to be an empty spot next to John. He won't bite, you know, unless you ask nicely."

Thank God you hadn't taken a sip of your drink yet, or you likely would have spit it right out in a fluster. Brian might have picked up on your silly little schoolgirl crush, but he needed to realize you weren't like the other girls who shamelessly slithered hot on the boy's trails to and from the closest doors with locks. And neither was Elizabeth.

"We're here for the music, got it?" You gave Brian a stern look. "Heartbreak is not an option." You shook your head in his direction, but Brian kept his lithe grin before spinning to lead you along. Maybe you were only warning yourself.

///

At the next stop, Lilly strung along a cluster of girls who'd been camping outside the venue, and started some kind of party in the indoor pool of your latest hotel. Somehow, you'd all wound up there after dumping the band's equipment, sharing drinks and downtime in an all-new setting.

While most of the girls crowded the pool, you stuck to the mini bar in the back and kicked your feet up on Elizabeth's lap. Neither of you thought to pack swimsuits in the beginnings of winter, and neither of you were bold enough as Jade, who'd stripped down to her skivvies to dive in the deep end.

You watched on from plastic chairs, giggling to yourselves over things you'd always found funny. Roger was the first to pull up a seat at your table, handing out fresh drinks to you and Elizabeth. The guy seemed relieved to enjoy your company without having to keep up his usually debaucherous demeanor.

"You don't fancy a swim, Rog?" Elizabeth asked, popping the tab on the bottle he offered her. The shrieks and splashes of a dozen groupies echoed through the humid room.

"Are you kidding? I can risk ruining my hair hours before a big show, love." Roger grinned, rolling his eyes as he settled deeper into his seat. After you and your friend laughed, Roger kept rambling, starting in on a story about the time he'd chopped his sister's braids off when she'd talked him into playing barber, as a boy.

By the end of his tale, you and Elizabeth came down from wild laughter to find the other boys had gathered around the table. There was only another hour left to leave to chance before another show was scheduled to take off. And here you were laughing at Rogers embellished storytelling.

The girls in the water seemed none the wiser, squealing at each other and calling out the boy's names every now and again in hopes they'd join their fun. And the boys in the band let the sound of a siren beckoning their names linger in the air, unanswered. How could two separate worlds exist so cohesively? Maybe they didn't...

"Don't you all get sick of all that?" You asked, after one of the girls called out to one of the boys for the hundredth time around.

"Yes," John answered firmly, swigging the last of his beer and standing up as if the answer gave him permission to finally leave. You hadn't meant to coax him to go. You'd been trying to speak past your nerves all week, and get a little closer to the guy. But all of your polite advances had been for naught. Over dinner and on the road, you would ask John what books he was reading. You would compliment his hair, and ask if he wanted more coffee. But so would the other girls. You were just another in a line of ladies much bolder than you.

///

"Every time he does that I want to cry, it's so sexy." One of the new girls fawned over Brian. He stood across the way, favoring a hip, letting the other jet out as he hung his head, focused on tuning his guitar.

A cast of current groupie girls giggled from a few rows ahead of where you and Elizabeth sat. Lilly had marched them each to the front row for soundcheck, something she never usually stuck around for. 

You could have gone to lunch, yourself. You could have roamed around the new city. But even the tunes Queen fiddled about with as they set up in each new town was music to your ears. You caught Elizabeth's withheld expression of resentment every time a new groupies eye turned to focus on the slender dark-haired guitarist, for whom they grossly expressed their love.

"They keep looking at him like a piece of dinner," Elizabeth grumbled under her breath, slumping in her seat. You glanced up from the magazine in your lap and focused on the stage.

"Yeah," You breathed. "but he keeps looking at you."

Brian turned his smile to the floor when he noticed you and Elizabeth stealing a look his way, as he'd already been focused on your friend.

Just then, one of the new girls let out an annoying squeal upon noticing Brian bite back a smile.

"Oh, would you shut the hell up!" Elizabeth barked, catching the attention of the group of girls off guard, turning their grins to sneers your way, but at least they stopped squealing.

"You know tonight is my last night, right?" Jade chuckled, shuffling through the bleachers with an announcement you hadn't seen coming.

"You're leaving?" You asked, not flinching when Roger let loose on a couple of symbols. Jade leaned on the back of the seats in front of you, crossing her arms over her impossibly long hair. Sure, some days the bus was fuller than others. Girls would hop on and off without ever trading their names. But Jade was always there. She had been long before inviting you, too.

"No one ever rides for long. You'll get motion sick, ya know?" Jade traded this information like a secret.

"Well, we can't let you leave without a party." You declared. Jade's eyes grew starry before declaring you left the planning up to her, and waved you along to get ready for another show.

///

You weren't sure how it happened. Maybe he was coming down from the rock and roll high, or maybe he was exhausted enough by the long show, that he'd forgotten how to act. When John sat next to you on the bus with a smile, you nearly shot up in a panic. Was this some kind of cruel prank?

You tried to bury your alarm, and savor his company before it was gone.

"Another good show," You nodded, stiffening in your seat as John threw his head back against the leather with a sigh.

"Barely. Ratty nearly busted me amp in the middle of Liar." John jested as the roadie walked through the bus, swatting away the comment with a grumble of his own. He looked just as worn out as the boys who'd put on the show.

You laughed at John's remark as the bus filled up, too nervous to think of what to say. You'd spent all your free time considering the right thing but the moment fate allowed, your mind went blank, damn it. You decided it was enough to be graced with his presence so delightfully near yours on the ride back to the hotel. 

As the band filled up the bus and it started down the road, Freddie dreamed out loud of a long hot shower. You watched as Brian settled next to Elizabeth, including her in the argument he was having with Roger. You noticed the way he looked at her, when you weren't stealing glances at John. It was like you were making sure he was still there, not some figment of your imagination.

He never uttered another word on the ride, and when you got to the hotel, you knew the end of your shared company was near. So you offered John a measly goodnight, hoping he'd pick up on the way you hoped the statement was less of a goodbye and more of a wish to get to say so again.

When John slinked into his room without so much as a look your way, your heart ached with worry over what you'd done wrong.

"He's just shy." A voice spoke low in your ear, as you moved through the hall. You turned to find Roger at your side, offering a shrug. Was he giving you a reason for John's failure to communicate, or defending his friends decided quiet? Either way, the drummer was showing you a bit of kindness, and for that, you smiled and nodded his way.

When Roger floated to his room, and you'd nearly made it to yours, your journey was halted. Lilly stepped in front of you, blue eyes clouded with smokey anger.

"Stay the fuck away from Roger Taylor." She spoke through her teeth, sending a chill down your spine. You nodded, in a hurry to step out from under her killer gaze. You nodded because you would, because you had no plans on stealing the girl away from him in the first place.

Elizabeth asked if you were okay when you finally made it to safety. And even though Lilly's sister floated from the ensuite with a smile, you couldn't help but spill your guts to your best friend. With a great deal of caution, you told Elizabeth what the short blonde has said to you. Rita heard, but seemed to pretend she wasn't listening. And like usual, she slipped out of the room in hopes of occupying another.

This was when everyone went separate ways. This was when girls who waited long enough outside of the tour bus got lucky for just one night. When you scurried to dinner with whoever was in the mood for pizza or chips.

But tonight was off-kilter from the ones you'd become accustomed to. A fierce knock on your door revealed a giddy Jade, and a freshly showered Brian.

"Come on, then! I've found the perfect pub to celebrate my last night in." Jade informed, dancing in place. Elizabeth floated toward Brian with a wide smile that matched his own, like they planned to meet up just like this, before now.

You asked Jade for directions, saying something about freshening up before you went out for the evening, reminding her that a wasted groupie had spilled her champagne down your top before the show ended.

You'd never felt more alone while you rushed to change, in a hurry to meet up with the friends you'd been lucky enough to make. All except one, it seemed. The memory of Lilly's warning kept replaying in your head. Each time you thought back to it, the fear she'd managed to douse you in fizzled away, replaced by anger. You thought back to the night's she'd yank Roger away from signing autographs and pull him down halls when he complained about having to be someplace else. How he'd let her, as if there was no way he could outrun the girls hunt to have him all to herself. It made you sick. That was no way to treat anyone, let alone the talent of the band whose music was the only reason Lilly was lucky enough to be here. She didn't even seem to care about it, anyway.

You hurried to head out, in desperate need of fun. As you spun into the hallway, freshly dressed and ready to party, the couple you'd been in deep thought over were bickering at the end of the hall.

"You're not going with them, Roger. We're going to dinner like I planned." Lilly stamped her foot. Roger wilted, explaining how Jade had invited everyone to celebrate her last night on tour. At the mention of another girl's name Lilly rolled her eyes.

"You aren't canceling our plans, Roger I fucking swear-"

"Is it really so hard to imagine he doesn't want to be around you for once, Lilly?" You snapped, making your way closer as both parties turned their stunned attention your way.

"I'll make it easy for both of you, come on." You marched up to the pair, looped your arm through Roger's, and turned toward the elevator on your way all the same. He picked up the pace, pulling you away in a big hurry, but before you were gone, you caught the look in Lilly's eye.

On your race to the elevator, you tried to shake your fear of Lilly's death glare, and feel more prideful of your ambition to thwart her plans. When the elevator doors shut, and Roger sighed in relief, you did too.

"Thank you." He nodded his messy hair, relaxing against the wall on the ride down twenty floors. "You're a real friend."

You looked at Roger then, you could practically see his guard melting away. You'd never expected to end up here and now, not in your wildest dreams.

"Well, you know, your music has always been there for me. I suppose it's the least I can do to be there for you, too." You weren't trying to boost his ego. You didn't want anything from Roger either. It was simply the most honest response you could think of. You meant it.

"I invited her along. I promised not to leave home without her. But I never promised more than that." Roger explained, digging for a cigarette in his pocket. He explained how the two had misunderstood each other. How he'd realized he'd lead her along and felt too sorry to let her down gently. You both went on laughing about how the music led you all here and now, like some kind of spell, a curse in Lilly's case.

When you spilled out into the world on a mission to find the crew who'd geared up for a long night of fun, you were still laughing. High off of the euphoria of telling Lilly off, you were sure.

Freddie, John, and Ratty were only just leaving, as well. Roger called out to the boys, racing to catch up with his friends without a small blonde bombshell weighing him down. The boys turned with grins to find Roger racing their way, while you watched on with a smile, finally feeling like less of an outsider for once.

And while the crew joined up, John stalled and turned to watch you approach, as you stepped closer with bated breath.

"You alright?" He asked in a small way. As if he wasn't sure he should have even been asking.

You'd laughed it off with Roger. But the look on Lilly's face after what you said to her was burned in your brain. You realized you'd been biting your lip every time the thought threatened to make you queasy.

"I think I've earned myself an enemy, tonight." You shrugged, watching John join your stride, his pace matching your own. Maybe it was his closeness that was sending waves through your stomach, you thought.

"Why's that?" John wondered, ever the conversationalist. This was still further than you'd managed to get with him, most days, though.

"I’ve stolen Roger away from the girl who's been claiming him all tour long." You joked, hoping it would make you feel better about how angry you'd made her. You weren't one to step so boldly out of your shell. John went silent for a beat, glancing at Roger racing ahead, pumping his fists, getting his companions in the party spirit.

"You and Roger? You two really-" John pipped up again, his hair blowing back with the breeze.

"Wait! God, no." You barked a wild laugh. One that might have embarrassed you if John hadn't relaxed into a smile, too. When you managed to find the words, you explained yourself.

"There is no Roger and me." You made yourself clear. "I just couldn't stand to hear Lilly treat him like she does. I finally told her so."

"Well good.. then everyone wins tonight, don't they?" Even the rockstars spoke in code, huh? John kept his smile, a real genuine grin. The first one you'd noticed pointed so unabashedly in your direction. Was there something better than winning? You'd suddenly hit the jackpot.

You walked in time with the fellow around the corner to the pub Jade had scouted out. There, your friends spent the rest of the night bumping into one another in the dark and shouting curses at the jukebox when it ate their coins. As the drinks flowed, Elizabeth and Jade had taken over the dance floor. Brian cowered behind you, asking what he should do, desperate to make it clear to your friend how hard he'd fallen for her, without scaring her away. Roger bought you some shots for being so bold in his honor, and John stayed close. Not nearly as close as you might have liked, but closer than ever before, shooting drunken quips and questions your way. You were too tipsy to hide your blush. You wondered if John was too drunk to notice.

///

You didn't have far to travel, but the early morning ride seemed like the longest of all. Jade left you all with hangovers, booking it to her train station without saying goodbye.

The bus was somber, with everyone sulking in their respective spots. Freddie and Roger scribbled over notes at the table. Rita and Ratty hogged the sofa, kicking Lilly toward an empty bench of her own, where she fell asleep. You sat reading in the seat next to John. His arms were crossed and his eyes were closed, yet still, in his shutdown state, you could feel his presence like a looming storm cloud.

Brian sat strumming an acoustic nearest Elizabeth, both pretending to be focused on anything besides each other. The lanky guitarist had taken to following Elizabeth around everywhere like a lovesick puppy. You watched as he stole her away with excuses to help fix his hair- to ask her opinion on a certain hotel's free library and its selection- to sit next to him at dinner. You watched as she agreed, and smiled and leaned into his side when he gestured her closer to ask something over some loud pub speakers. You watched your friend fuss over all her best flared out pants, and boots, asking if you thought she looked alright... If you thought Brian would think so. You promised Elizabeth she had nothing to worry about with a sure nod.

It was the same gesture you gave her now, across the bus, when Brian abandoned his guitar in her lap without question, on his way to fetch a snack.

"I'm so bloody sick of this shite." Roger grumbled, swatting away Brian's offer of some fresh fruit, the only thing the bus cabinets had to offer, this afternoon. Roger stood from his spot across from Freddie, giving some passionate speech about all the things he was hungry enough to eat, how badly he wanted a proper meal.

You all laughed as he devised a plan to race to the nearest eatery the second the bus stopped. Freddie declared his grand plans for sleeping away the next fifteen hours of truly free time, wondering how half of the bus had fallen into cat naps with such ease on the ride that jostled through the winter weather. John with his eyes still closed, spoke up, startling you, saying something about how he'd never been asleep but hoped if he pretended long enough, he'd eventually find real rest.

When the next hotel beckoned from outside the foggy tour bus windows, Roger raced for the door, inviting anyone who was also famished to come to join in his afternoon plans to feast. Brian nodded to Elizabeth, who shrugged and followed along with a grin.

John lept after the small party, demanding they wait for him to join. You laughed at their desperation, how the boys were in the midst of living out their wildest dreams, yet all they wanted was some warm lunch.

When you looked up from collecting your books, bag, and coat; Brian, Roger, and Elizabeth were zooming down the steps chanting like school kids on their race to the mess hall, and John was standing at the end of your seat.

"You comin'?"

///

Roger strung you all along like the sky was falling and you only had an hour left to find nourishment before the end of times. How you all fit into the back of one cab, you weren't sure. The patient driver helped your gang locate the nearest, nicest restaurant and laughed when Roger was the first out of the ride, dancing up to the double doors of some cabin-esque eatery with their specials presented in faded chalk, in the ice-covered picture window.

You and Elizabeth sat across from the boys in the band, who dreamed of home while impatiently waiting for your orders to cook. Brian compared the fireplace in the back of the place to his families. John was delighted to find his favorite dish on the menu. And Roger acted as if he'd been admitted into high heaven, simply pleased to be sat in one place with nothing more to do than enjoy himself, and some real food.

The five of you laughed for hours, enjoying the extra-large cups of cocoa on sale during the storm you'd arrived in the middle of.

"It's so nice to have absolutely nothing to do. We could stay here all night and we wouldn't miss a thing." Brian chirped, smiling to the barista who traded his empty cup of cocoa for a new fresh one.

"I don't know how you boys do it, I surely would have lost my voice after so many shows in a row." You pipped up, always in awe of how hard they worked.

"Well, Deacy barely has a voice so-" Roger jeered.

"You leave him be!" Elizabeth crushed an empty sugar packet and flung it toward the drummer, who feigned shock. You glanced across the table, catching John's gaze. His had already been settled on you, and when you noticed, he looked down with a grin, twisting the ring on his very middle finger.

///

Love was dangerous. One taste, one blurry vision of the adoration you always dreamed of, and common sense flew out the window. You and Elizabeth were busy gushing over the picture-perfect time you'd spent with three-fourths of your very favorite band. How close your two favorites had been for the few hours you spent making Roger's simple dream come true.

Instead of getting ready for the next show in a timely manner, you and your friend chattered away about the night before, and you'd missed the bus to the venue. Rita had all the extra passes, and you absolutely panicked on your race to make it on time.

Outside the propped open backstage doors were two burly men you hadn't seen earlier in the day. They stood inside of a stone foyer, out of the snow like royal guard. Neither of them budged when you and your friend rushed up to explain what had happened, begging to slip inside the already open entry.

You had nothing to show but desperation, and the men weren't standing for your girlish desire. What else could you have done? Elizabeth took her turn at begging when just passed the propped open doorway, a familiar face floated near.

"Lilly!" Elizabeth shouted, waving past the well-built men who blocked your entry. The small blonde halted and peeked her head around one of the men's shoulders with a wicked grin.

"Oh, please tell them we know you! We don't have our passes!" Elizabeth breathed, bending her knees as she begged.

"Doesn't matter. Can't get in without a pass." The taller guard sighed. Lilly put on a frown, listening to your friend's pleas.

"Oh, here." Lilly clicked her tongue, reaching in her bag and unveiling a shiny orange sticker she'd had on standby. As the blonde reached through the security guards to hand the pass to your friend, you practically heard heavens gates creak open.

When Elizabeth moved to snatch the sticker, Lilly latched onto her wrist and pulled the girl inside, as the guards reluctantly stepped aside.

"Oops. That was the last one I had." Lilly's always evil smile had long foreshadowed this power play. She shot you a look reminiscent of the glare that haunted your dreams.

"No, come on, she's really with us!" Elizabeth turned around and reached out for you. But the guards snapped back into place, clearly on the side of the wicked witch who was already skipping deeper inside, stalling to pull Elizabeth along.

"Oh my God!" You shouted in disbelief.

"Don't move an inch, I'll be right back!" Elizabeth yelled from where she moved in a hurry inside, just before one of the big tall men slammed the door shut without blinking an eye.

You slumped in disbelief, crossing your arms to shield the cold that came along with the falling snow. The guards paid you no mind from their small shelter as you paced back and forth, trying to keep your cool, all the same. Maybe it was the weather reducing you to shivers, but Elizabeth seemed to be gone much longer than it took to find a pass to pull you back in.

"The hell are you doing?" A voice called from behind where you stood freezing, trying to hold back frustrated tears. Ratty stood with a big clunky case in hand and a cigarette between his lips. He was a sight for sore eyes.

"We were late." You greeted through the sorry explanation.

"Christ," Ratty flicked his cigarette toward the fence and reached into his coat pocket for an extra pass.

"Come on." He uttered, handing the sticker your way, nodding for you to follow him inside. The guards shot you a glare as one moved to open the door, while the other stepped aside. You unpeeled the sticker and placed it proudly on your coat, determined for that to never happen again.

"Oh, Deacy..." Ratty sang as you stepped in time with the roadie, behind the stage. John had only been around the corner, fiddling with an amp no doubt. He was dressed for the show already, a shy smile included. You tried to shake the snowflakes tangled in your hair, embarrassed by how silly you must have looked.

"I've gotten the things you need, my friend." Ratty held out the case to John, who approached as you walked his way.

"You have, haven't you?" John replied to Ratty, but kept his studying eye on you, his grin turning to a frown. "Where've you been?" John asked, seemingly concerned by how cold you must have looked.

"We were late. Lilly apparently only had one extra pass for Elizabeth, who went searching for another..." You sighed through a polite smile.

"Rita has them all. She went looking for you, Rat." John quirked a brow, taking the case from the slim man at your side. Ratty huffed and nodded toward the green room, where everyone in question would likely end up sooner or later.

The three of you shuffled that way in silence, and if you'd ever glance to John at the right moment, you'd notice he was stealing looks at you too. When the bassist reached out, placing his hand on the small of your back as the three of you entered the green room, you felt like you belonged. Like he wanted you there. The shiver his fingertips sent up your spine was different from the chill you'd felt lingering outside moments ago.

As you arrived, Freddie seemed to sigh in relief, greeting you with a sweet lilt in his voice. As Ratty met an impatient Rita near the wardrobe, and Elizabeth came running in, just in time.

"Is Rita back? Oh-" Your friend found you shedding your coat in the corner, reaching out like you'd been found from a deserted island after years away.

Lilly followed, rolling her icy eyes when she noticed you'd found your way.

"Look who made it in, no thanks to you." Elizabeth muttered in the small blonde's direction, who breezed into the room like she owned it.

"It is a triumph, considering neither of you belong here, anyway." Lilly spat, not even bothering to look in your direction. As she waltzed past where John had opened the case Ratty gifted him, the bassist slammed it shut and looked right at the girl.

"Would you get the fuck out, Lilly? You're the one who shouldn't be here. You make everyone feel like such shite, they're too afraid to tell you otherwise." John snapped, causing a stunned silence to fall over the room.

Everyone watched on as Lilly turned red hot, her fists balled up at her side, ears steaming, eyes searching for her next victim. She whipped in Roger's direction.

"Aren't you going to defend me?" She cursed, watching the blonde lean against the counter where all Freddie's eyeliner waited to be put to use.

"No." Roger spoke, plain as day, with the shake of his pretty hair.

With that, Lilly let out a string of curses as she stomped out of the room. But before you could celebrate, Rita came alive from the corner of the room.

"That was totally unnecessary." The tall redhead scolded John as she collected her coat. You watched the man hold back a chuckle at her mismarked anger.

"You finally speak up and that's what you have to say?" Ratty yelled, stepping to meet Rita on her way out the door.

"It's time!" A man with a headset burst in, waving the band to fall in line. Commotion swept through the room and out into the hall as everyone bickered and cheered each other along. You and Elizabeth were the last to leave after you'd picked your jaws up from the floor and laughed like loons over the scene you'd watched unfold.

When you finally made it to the side of another stage, something came over the two of you. You followed Elizabeth past a few snaking wires, down some stairs and into the back of the concert hall. Stragglers gathered and marveled over your orange passes that permitted you backstage where you belonged.

You danced along with fans who'd traveled through the storm to hear the music. And Queen proceeded to play the best show you'd seen the entire tour, or ever at all.

///

In an impressive hurry, the conference room of the hotel you'd rented was decked in streamers, and drink carts were set up in almost every corner. The band was greeted with cheers and toasts, all to celebrate the show they'd just performed.

For weeks you watched as they kept in tune, in time and impressed crowds all over the country. You'd gotten chills at every solo and sound. Yet tonight was better than all the best before. And since the boys had a three day weekend ahead of them, a proper party was in order.

Ratty sent everyone on a mission to set up the perfect spontaneous shindig. He took to the crowd, in charge of inviting the right kind of people to the afterparty. You stuck with Elizabeth to set up the celebration, and the hotel was more than happy to help. The lady at the front desk waved you back to the kitchen to select the best kind of sweets they had on hand, to set out for your pending guests. She even let you at a storage closet full of streamers and decor for moments such as now.

All the while, Lilly and Rita remained missing. But no one missed them much, as you downed champagne and mingled with fans who poured into the party and gushed over the music, and the boy's accomplishments.

Freddie arrived already buzzed from the ride to the party, and Roger was the perfect pseudo-host. He went around, clapping backs, sharing smiles, and passing bottles from stranger to stranger. And somehow, when you found Brian, he was already plastered, closer to crashing into sobriety than the others who were just getting started.

"Congrats Bri." You grinned, reaching out to pull the guy in for a hug. He didn't let go when you pulled away, instead clung to your shoulders for balance as he asked,

"Where's Beth? I want her to congratulate me." Brian spoke, barely keeping it together.

"Brian, oh no. Don't call her that, she hates that." But as you warned, he wasn't listening. And while he twisted in place to scan the crowd he found Elizabeth posing for a photo with Ratty, near the table of sweets.

"Oh, there I see her!"

"Don't call her-"

"Beth! Love, can you believe it? We've earned ourselves a party!"

Brian bound her way, arms outstretched like some big cuddly rag doll. And despite the nickname your friend once scolded you badly enough to remember to never call her again, she smiled. She leaned into Brian and shook her head at the way he rambled, and held his hand as he spoke right to her.

You watched on with a grin, and meandered further into the room, reveling in the knowledge that tonight would be one you'd look back on and tell your families about for ages. Then someone called your name.

"Come sit, we've got first dibs to the bar." Freddie motioned you over to some hideously cushioned wicker furniture, just on the edge of the gathering crowd.

"There are plenty of bars around tonight, Fred." You laughed, glancing at one of the mini stations set up in every corner.

"This one is nearest to the kitchen, love."

"And we've got the key." John boasted from the matching loveseat facing the throne Freddie made of his wicker chair. As you laughed, the bassist waved you over, and you'd be a fool to back away. You sat at John's side, trying not to drool over his tight-fitting suit. He was just as drunk as his counterparts, wasted enough to get up and start dancing like he did. But he didn't budge. He settled deeper into the sofa next to you.

"You." Freddie pointed behind the place you sat, barely managing to tame your heartbeat. A kid with coke bottle glasses stumbled closer, clearly stunned by Freddie's favoritism.

"Bring us back something clear and toxic." Freddie held a shinny key between his fingers, waving it toward the kitchen door. "And fetch a little something for yourself, darling."

The kid nodded, nearly bowed, snatched the key, and slipped in the back when he was sure no one was looking. John burst into a fit of giggles at your side as you and Freddie traded smug smiles. The dark-headed singer spun off into a made-up monologue about the laws he'd enforce if he were queen for a day. You joined John in laughing until it hurt, until the kid with the glasses popped out of the kitchen with vodka in hand.

You reached out for the kid to pass the drink to you, joking about how the other boys were too far off their rockers to be in charge. He even handed over a few spare cups before handing the key to Freddie with a nervous grin. You poured the kid a glass first, as thanks. He took the drink and nervously slinked off to the corner while Freddie demanded the next cup. When it came time for you to offer some to John, you felt the cushions shift. He'd leaned forward to where you worked at the coffee table.

"I'm so glad you're here," John muttered, right in your ear. All your senses shut down and reopened with a thousand nerves on end. His shoulder pressed into yours as you passed the cup of vodka his way. He smiled and said a small thank you before leaning back, leaving you to pour your own, very tall drink.

The night passed by in blurb, like the world around you had been set to super speed. But you stood still, taking the occasional sip of alcohol. Freddie fled his throne to dance. Ratty passed by to steal the vodka, arguing with John, who filled both your glasses before letting the roadie take the bottle. You thought you notice Roger kicking cans of beer from tabletops. 

All the while, John never left your side. When he reached for the key Freddie entrusted him, John let his arm drape over the back of the sofa. When a certain song came on, he leaned over to tell you how much he liked it. But mostly, he chatted to fans who plopped in the seats nearby, to extend their congratulations.

When a record screeched to a halt and the crowd groaned collectively, you stood up. As another track started to play, you moved to the exit, daring to look over your shoulder to the place you'd abandoned John. A girl you didn't recognize had taken your spot, and John wasn't looking back.

You knew his closeness had been driven by the drinks he'd downed. But it still stung to realize. It still hurt to understand you were just another passing face in his world that never stopped spinning in different fast-paced directions. When you made it up to your room, the quiet was almost welcome.

It wasn't long before you slipped into your pj's and dimmed most of the light, until Elizabeth burst in.

"I'm gonna do it." She announced, out of breath like she ran all the way here to tell you so. "I'm gonna stay with Brian."

You knew this had been coming, and at long last. You encouraged your best friend to jump into her jammies and bolt out the door. And when she did, you knew everything was as it should be, even for you. Even though the quiet pierced your ears, now. You knew tonight was one you'd remember forever. But you never dreamed it would end this way.

///

You awoke to a crashing. Muted hollers echoed from the hall, while the sun beamed through the curtains you forgot to shut. Your head pounded from the party the night before, but the ruckus from the hall was enough to drive you out from under the covers in a hurry.

You opened the door, rubbing your eyes to find clothes and shoes flying out from a doorway and toward an open suitcase at the end of the hall. Then Roger staggered out, dodging a pair of heels that zoomed dangerously passed his head. Lilly emerged no sooner, throwing the rest of her things into the suitcase on the ground, yelling at the drummer the whole time. He stood, listening, taking it. So you stood, crossing your arms, watching Lilly throw her fit, delighted at the sight of her leaving, no matter how dramatic it might have been.

When she grabbed the handle of her hastily zipped bag, she cursed her way toward the elevators. When the doors closed, Roger turned, noticed you, and laughed. His excitement morphed into a grimace as he lifted a hand to his head- he'd had much more to drink than you.

You gave the blonde a small wave and chuckled as you crept back into your sickeningly bright room. You snagged some pills from Rita's opened suitcase, stole some of Elizabeth's shampoo, and prepared for the day ahead and whatever it might bring.

The hotel was eerily quiet, the commotion from the party and Lilly's fit reduced to echoes in your memory and nothing more. There wasn't even a soul to be found in the breakfast bar, each chair in place. You picked one and ordered a hot drink, wondering what other ghosts haunted the place you seemed to exist alone in.

You only got to sulk for a few minutes. Elizabeth skipped through the halls, bounding to pull a seat up next to you, a frantic mess of giggles. You grinned, taking a sip of your drink as you watched her slouch across from you, biting her lip into a smile.

"He kept calling me Beth. And I kind of liked it."

You both burst into chuckles, heads thrown back in the early morning, despite having barely caught a wink of sleep. She ordered a drink, and some breakfast when you asked why she wasn't still with Brian. She explained that his head hurt too badly to move yet, and she was famished. 

So she split her breakfast with you and told you all the details she was willing to share. You laughed the whole time, fawning over each dreamy scenario, pausing only to announce how lucky she was and how happy you were for your friend. You'd known all of Brian's trustworthy motives, having spent many a long night coaxing him to sweep your best friend off her feet. A piece of your soul settled knowing they were finally together.

Roger and Freddie interrupted your giggle-fest to join in breakfast, complaining about their aches and pains they would have slept away if Lilly's screaming hadn't rattled them into consciousness. When neither of them ceased whining, you stood to go fetch some more pain killers Rita kept on hand to pass out in times like now, and out of reach during most all other occasions.

When you got to the room, nothing was much the same as when you'd left it an hour ago. The cleaning service had come and made your bed. And Rita was there, clamping her suitcase shut.

"You're leaving?"

The redhead turned to you with a heavy sigh that seemed to be her answer.

"I don't belong here anymore, babe." Rita shrugged when your twisted expression wasn't eased.

"You can't leave..." You cautioned, but for all the wrong reasons. Elizabeth had made it clear that she planned to switch roommates, and that was good news indeed. But if Rita left, you'd be alone. And you couldn't afford to rent more rooms all on your own, for the rest of the tour.

Rita didn't explain much further as she hoisted her bags toward the door. You remembered why you came up in the first place, asking her for some of the pain killers she always kept. You half encouraged the girl to stick around to keep mothering the lot of you, joking that the whole show would fall apart if she left you lot on your own. She only traded you the bottle of pills and a sorry smile before spinning toward the elevators with her bags in hand.

You'd felt alone in the space before, but you hadn't ever felt the way you did, now. Like everything was over. Not just the tour as you knew it. Not just your place on the ride. But like life had shifted into a new, dull grey territory right before your eyes.

///

"Here you are, then." You tossed the bottle of pain killers to Roger, who still managed to catch it in one hand despite his sluggish state. The rest of the band had all flocked to the breakfast table you'd claimed earlier in the day, watching the sun dip lower in the sky. And even though your throat went dry as they glanced up your way, you announced that you had something to say.

"I'm going home." You declared with wimpy confidence.

Everyone gapped at you, waiting for the penny to drop. But you'd already said what you needed to.

"No, you're not." Elizabeth laughed, standing from the spot you'd left her in a bit ago. Funny how some things never changed even when everything else did...

"Rita just left and there's no way I can cover a room all on my own for another week and a half," You explained, watching your friend shake her head. Elizabeth pulled you away from the group, and back toward the elevators.

"You're not leaving me on tour with a bunch of boys." Elizabeth declared, pushing the buttons to send you to the proper floor.

You argued with her all the way up to the room. You watched your friend collect her things, finding tubes of lipstick and shoes mixed among your collection. She combated all your excuses with her own, while she packed her bags.

"We'll figure something out, okay?" Elizabeth spoke up, toting her things into the hall. "But you're not leaving."

You could see the boys making their way back to their rooms, as your friend left you on your own. You let her, and couldn't help but smile when you watched Brian take her suitcase in his hand as they swept into his room. But before you could turn and face the inevitable, you were stopped once more.

"You can stay with me, if you'd like."

John stood in your doorway, with his hands shoved in his tight pockets. Oh, no way.

"I'm not a groupie John." You sneered. You had no interest in being a temporary roommate.

"I never said you were. In fact, I'm glad you're not." John chuckled. It made you hate how much you adored him. He really wasn't interested in you, huh?

"I just don't want-"

"I want you to stay with me." He seemed sure, he wasn't even asking. He never really did ask, did he? John looked at you as if you didn't have a choice. Reluctantly, you let yourself feel glad that you didn't have much of one. And then you hesitantly packed your bags.

When you got to the room John had been staying in for two nights in a row, he hadn't done much to celebrate the small stability. His bags were in the corner and the lights were dim. You tossed your things into an opposite corner.

That night, you barely spoke to each other, and you curled on the sofa to sleep your worries away.

///

The snow had ceased but the chill in the air cut to the bone. It was torture to walk from the bus toward the plane. It was small, much smaller than the already cramped tour bus. Maybe having less friends along for the ride had its perks after all...

The boys were dressed to impress, knowing they'd land to a dozen flashing cameras and excited fans. You and Elizabeth settled in the back, accepted some complimentary flutes of champagne, and buckled up for another long ride. The boys gathered around for some kind of meeting to discuss the last leg of the tour.

She never asked. Elizabeth just kept giving you this look, coxing you to spill any details on what your stay in John's room had been like. And when the plane reached its altitude, you'd had enough of your friends daring glares.

"I slept on the sofa." You admitted through a sigh.

Elizabeth dropped the magazine she'd pretended to be interested in, to her lap, and turned to you with wide eyes. When you met her glance, she swatted you on the shoulder with a disgruntled huff.

"One month left." She rose a manicured nail. "You have one month left of this year and I will not let you live it on sleeping on his sofa."

You snorted a laugh. She sure had come a long way since diving headfirst, last minute, into her new year's resolution. Just then, the boys broke away from business, and Elizabeth perked up.

"John, dear, this seat isn't taken!" She stood to shuffle toward Brian, but you knew her motives were mostly with you in mind.

John could have kept walking and sat next to Ratty, behind you. He could have stayed where he sat, still. But John stood up and waltzed over to where Elizabeth had fled, with a grin on his face. As he settled next to you, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes. You turned toward the window, trying to jot down every detail of the land below you, knowing it would always be there, and you could come back to it, but nothing would never be exactly as it was now, ever again.

///

After another kick-ass show, the unruly group you'd been trailing across cities and skies with seemed eager to go their separate ways. 

Roger took off, into the town you'd barely learned the name of, hot on the trail of a tall brunette. Freddie invited a cast of characters back to the hotel; you watched as strangers filled up the bus before the band was even finished tearing their set down. And Elizabeth canceled your plans; one's you'd made on the ride to the show, to go to dinner just the two of you and spend the whole night catching up. Even though she'd just been down the hall for a night and a half, you decidedly missed each other already.

But Elizabeth was easily coaxed away at Brian's simple suggestion to take her on a real proper first date. And you couldn't blame her. In fact, you were the one who pushed the girl out of the green room and made her stop asking if you'd hate her for taking a rain check.

That left you, and John. He shrugged on his coat as the last of the strangers Freddie invited shuffled passed to catch the bus. And when he noticed Elizabeth turn to wave goodbye, John frowned as if she'd been letting him down, all along.

"I'm happy for her," You spoke up decidedly, stepping to trail behind the group of partiers headed for your ride. "but I may secretly never forgive her. I was pretty excited to waste the last of my cash on a five-star dining experience we probably would have spent just drinking anyway."

John laughed, a solid, made for the big screen, award-winning laugh. And when you stepped out into the bitter cold, anxious to make it to the bus before catching hypothermia, John curled his fingers around your arm and yanked you the opposite way.

"Uh, where are you abducting me to?" You weren't nervous about where you were headed, just the fact that John seemed so keen to lead you there.

"To a five-star dining experience, duh." John hailed a cab that slowed on the glistening street in perfect time. As he reached to open the door, the man stopped you from arguing all the same.

"And I'll even make sure you still have cash left to waste, don't worry." The bassist pressed his elegant fingers into your shoulder blades, ushering you into the ride.

///

"Thanks for being so hospitable miles away from home." You uttered, stabbing a fork into a salad that cost as much as your rent back home. The place you sat now was saturated in amber light, a warmth you had to swim through to reach for your glass of water across a massive marble table. John sharing his room was one thing, but a lavish meal was another.

"Home is where the heart is, right?" John shrugged, taking a sip of the beer still floating above the bottom of his bottle.

"And I happen to know yours is in the countryside, don't be coy." You teased, shoving a fancy basket of chips toward the middle of the table, gesturing for him to take a few.

Your conversation started slow, with carefully formulated quips, questions, and answers. But once you'd mentioned the few keywords, subjects that sparked to life in his brilliant grey eyes, John was an open book.

He yammered about growing up. You asked about music. He wondered about the future. You laughed about now. And maybe it was the late hour or the exhaustion of the never-ending ride setting in, but you laughed all the way home, too.

You were shaking away the hysteria on your walk toward the hotel. And by the time you reach the halls, you'd both gone silent as the day you met, keeping your smiles polite and your eyes hidden away.

He was the first to get ready for bed. You called the front desk for an extra set of blankets, propped some throw pillows in place on a new tiny sofa, and rummaged for your bedclothes beneath the mess of trousers you couldn't choose from earlier in the day.

You slipped past John when he emerged from the ensuite, almost like you were trying to avoid each other. The bathroom was full of leftover steam that fogged the mirror, quickly fading from the corners. As you took your turn cleaning up you tried not to think of how close this was to being over. How you'd miss Freddie's jokes, the ones he'd tell under his breath just to you. How you'd miss Roger's questions, and the odd times he'd settle in for a chat, even if he didn't seem to have the time. You'd miss Brian begging for your help in catching Elizabeth's attention. You would still have her at the end of this, to dreamily reminisce with while you danced around to records, like always. But you'd miss John most of all.

The lights were out when you crept back into the room. Even the moon was out of sight in the window it's dull shine outlined. On your way toward the sofa, where some blankets remained neatly folded just for you, John stopped you. From the place on the edge of the bed where he'd settled in the dark, he rose a hand to your wrist. Not grabbing on, just letting his fingers brush against your skin. Even the smallest bit of contact with the guy sent sweat to your palms.

Only when you turned to glance at John, did he let his fingers press against your arm, gently pulling you to sit at his side. The shadows of the room might have covered his face if you were any further away. But you were close enough to see the specks of color in his steel-grey eyes.

Did he know what he was doing to you? Could he hear the thud of your heart? Did John realize how much you adored him? You nearly couldn't handle being so close, closer than ever before. When you opened your mouth to warn him, no sound escaped.

John took your failed warning as an invitation to lean closer. You were suddenly glad you'd neglected to give notice to your nerves- when he closed the space left between you to press his lips against yours.

He kissed you slowly, almost timidly. Just the way most all of your other interactions with him had started out. When you kissed John in return, he stopped holding back. His gentle pecks ended when his lips parted against yours, setting the rhythm of your heart into overdrive. It was one of the kisses that there weren't words for. All of the reserved glances, every shared silence, had led up to now. Everything you'd tried to say, to make clear to John seemed to be relayed in the way you kissed each other.

You only stopped to breathe, but when the quiet grew louder, you realized there was more to say than ever. And funnily enough, John spoke up first.

"I like you, ya know?" He whispered, still dangerously close. You could practically feel the words as he formed them.

"I sure hope so." You breathed. Because now you couldn't cling to the edge for dear life, you were free-falling, and he was the only one who could catch you.

Instead of meeting in the middle to kiss you again, he replied. "What do you want?"

"I want to stay with you." You smiled, nearly mocking the way he coaxed you into sharing his room for the rest of the tour. Instead of meeting him halfway for a kiss, you said something more. "But I'll keep wanting too. So don't start something with a finish line in mind."

"I don't plan on letting this end, love." John declared with a grin, looping an arm around your middle and pulling you close. "Besides, we're just getting started."

His low purr in your ear was the nail in the coffin. You couldn't help but melt against John. He pulled you into the jumbled sheets. You tangled your fingers in his mess of sandy waves of hair. He fit against you perfectly. You stayed with him.

///

"Where's my hairbrush?" Roger whined, scouring the vanity with big worried eyes. You stole the silver comb from under Freddie's nose, tossing the thing to the drummer.

"You actually brush this mane?" You tousled his blonde fringe, that seemed to already stand on end. Roger looked pissed at first, but when he glanced at the result of your action in the mirror, he stilled.

"This is better, actually." He shrugged, and you laughed, as Freddie twirled by to steal the comb once more.

"We're just going to the museum down the street. Are you really wasting your eyeliner for a field trip?" Brian asked, tapping his foot impatiently in the doorway on the suite that combined all of your rooms together, in the new, final city.

You'd all been in comfortably close quarters for the last couple days and a half, and yet when everyone's favorite roadie suggested going out to enjoy the last free afternoon, everyone stuck together to do it. Ratty led the way as you all waltzed in pairs between a few buildings lined with piles of snow that quickly melted under the usually beaming sun. Freddie and Roger. Elizabeth and Brian. You and John.

He'd become a permanent fixture on your side, always reaching for your hand, stepping in time with you from place to place. You basked in his glow, and waved from whatever side of the stage you ended up near, not entirely unlike before.

When your gang flooded into the big quiet art gallery, Roger made you laugh, posing with marble statues and making you do the same, asking Freddie to snap your photo. Brian read plaques like stories for you all to hear while still fixated on the art he spoke for. You sat with Elizabeth and watched on with pride while a group of fans flagged the boys down. You and your best pal shared knowing looks before floating away from each other, and back toward the guitarists who'd been glad you managed to find your way on tour.

The last show was watched on by a bevy of film cameras. The boys in your favorite band played hard. You could practically envision the music notes floating away from the chords they struck in flawless synchronicity. Ratty stood, biting his nails ready to exchange instruments and wires in too big of a hurry, wishing there were more roadies to share the worry with.

"Calm down, this is going perfectly." You assured, squeezing the slim man's bicep. Ratty nodded and seemed to still. He'd come to ask you and Elizabeth's opinion, on all sorts of things, but most music. Ratty had watched you and your friend dance to the music night after night with the same unbridled excitement for the very first show. You'd become friends and confidants with the roadie, but above all things, you were still a fan. And not a performance passed without you and Elizabeth geeking out over the music.

Everything was perfect. But you knew better of course. You knew things would be different back where you started. You knew the spell you'd been caught up end might skid to a permanent stop when the tour bus wheels did. But there was no harm in losing yourself in the days that lasted, passing by too quickly.

Even as Brian made plans for your best friend to meet his family after they landed, you knew she'd only gotten lucky. Love like that only ever came once in a lifetime. But Queen seemed to have tapped into a wealth of fortune. And those boys deserved every bit of good they had coming.

///

You stood around the baggage claim carousel watching your friends rub their tired eyes. The tour was over, even though you'd known the day was coming, the realization hit you with all the subtlety of crashing into a brick wall.

That morning, you'd awoken with time to relish the way John slept soundly at your side. You watched the sunrise shine through his hair, relaxing under the weight of his arm that pulled you closer under the covers. You followed his lead, packing your things and hauling out to catch another plane, almost like usual. You were glad for the way he'd napped on your shoulder on the ride, afraid of letting him notice how scared you were for what came next.

John kept an arm around your waist all the way back where you came from, and you kept your head lulling back against his shoulder, terrified of what might happen the moment you stepped away to grab your bags. (If they'd ever show up)

Brian and Elizabeth were the first to leave. You watched the guitarist pull your best friend away from the group after a few unceremonious goodbyes. She turned to give you a final, nervous wave; a message you understand was code for her intention to phone you later.

Roger second, joking how he was sick of all of you, spinning around to take it back as Ratty raced to leave, too.

Freddie was last, but certainly not least.

"I'm off to sleep for a week!" He declared, slipping on a pair of bedazzled sunglasses. "But I'll be so glad to see you again the first of the year, darling." Freddie kissed your cheek and spun through the glass doors, headed for home. Before you had time to fret over Freddie's implied invitation, John offered up a real one.

"You'll come along to America, won't you?" He asked, tightening his hold around your middle.

"You want me to?" You asked feebly, daring to look into his cloud colored eyes.

"Of course. I don't think I can go most anywhere without you, now." John's smile reached his eyes as you bit back a grin, twirling a strand of his hair around his finger.

"Well, what about now?" You ventured to ask, holding your breath. You watched John lift a brow and search your face, the beginnings of a new sort of grin painting his own features.

"You'd come back to mine?"

"Of course."

And you did. You followed John right through the doors of his humble flat, joking how you'd already packed a bag. You shared John's space, his bed, his breakfast, his shampoo- but only once. You were quick to head to the market and by him a better brand, the best because he deserved it. John pulled you in for a dozen kisses, assuring he already had the best things life had to offer, all of them regarding you.

///

Before you knew it, it was time to hit the road once more. You'd saved almost every paycheck, except for one you blew on a dozen new outfits, and packed accordingly, and much more wisely than the time before. By now half of your things were mixed in with John's, anyhow.

"It's the start of a very happy new year! What's your resolution?" Elizabeth squeaked, as you rushed through airport terminals to greet your dearest friend. You hadn't seen much of her in the time since the last tour, but the music still led you back together, crashing into a long-awaited hug. Her dark curls were a little longer, and her style was still just as immaculate.

She escorted you onto the plane, where you'd found most of the rest of your crew.

You ruffled Roger's hair and leaned in for a photo with Ratty before he moved to curl up and sleep the flight away. John yanked you to sit at his side as Brian was the last to board, creeping toward his seat next to your dear friend like a giant trapped in a toy plane.

Freddie sat ahead of you all, leaning over the back of the seats, fawning over you and Elizabeth much like he had the day you met him.

"How glad I am to see your bright shining faces! We couldn't possibly have a proper tour without our very own queenie and you, my star." Freddie flashed a smile over the seat you sat before.

"Watch it, she's taken," John warned Freddie with a laugh, reaching to grab your hand.

"And for that you're welcome!" Freddie pointed between John and Brian, boasting about how clever he was to have invited you and your friend along, how he had been an undercover, genius matchmaker, all along. As your flight took off, Freddie blabbered on about how it was Roger's turn, saying he knew this nice french girl who'd be perfect for the blonde. Everyone laughed as Freddie yammered on. You clutched John's hand the whole ride, fiddling with the ring on his finger.

///

You left the boys to navigate their way around the first stage of the tour, while you took across town to get lunch with Elizabeth. You joked about how it was just like the first time, when you'd waited around hours before the show you won tickets too. The only difference now, was the level of fondness in which you spoke about your favorite band who were busy setting up at the venue down the road.

She caught you up on all the long-winded stories about Brian she'd been sorting away. You'd told her what you and John had been up too. And then you took your time meandering back to the concert hall, arm in arm.

The pair of you flashed your backstage passes to the doorman who let you in with a smile. The halls were full of cases and wires and new roadies and crew members who nodded as you and Elizabeth floated toward the green room. The closer you got, the more people came into view Girls and guys in denim and velvet, chomping on bubblegum and giggling over each other hairstyles.

You shouldered past a few unfamiliar love-struck groupies with their gazes set on your favorite band. Their drooly slack jaws clamped into frowns when you and Elizabeth fell into the open arms of the boys who'd brought you along.

Some of the girls lingered in the green room when the band rushed toward the stage. You were right behind them as always, stalling in the shadows, offering thumbs-up, and giving good luck kisses. Queen took their places behind their instruments, breathing in time with the buzzing amps as the lights dimmed, and the crowd roared.

Roger thrashed his drums with a smile, as Freddie sang his heart out. Brian turned his gaze to the side of the stage as he sang into the mic. And John danced out further from the shadows than ever before.

It was even better than you remembered. It was the best. You and Elizabeth won so much more than free tickets on the radio that day. The music had always been your personal soundtrack to your world, but now it was your world. And it sounded even sweeter as John plucked away at your favorite bass line, flashing his smile in your direction. He was your ticket in, tonight. And hopefully, many more nights to follow.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

taglist: @joeneslee​​ @rogertaylorsangeleyes @imtheinvisiblequeen​ 

[notgonnarememberthis]

find your way (back to me) - chapter 12

Another update for y’all! Starting from here we’re beginning to see the end fold out. I’m so happy y’all have been liking this so much and it means so much to me to get so many sweet comments. As of right now I have a pretty good idea how the rest of the events are going into fall into place. Until next time!

Malcolm comes out of the room, finally. Ainsley and Edrisa’s lighthearted conversation ended abruptly with his appearance. He looks simultaneously lighter and like he has the weight of the world balanced on his shoulders. His eyes don’t quite meet the crowd anxiously awaiting his input.

“She talked to me.” His smile is a sad one. One that he’s seen plenty of times after talking to a victim’s family. When he knows that they’ll be ok, although changed forever. “The killer is a cop.”

Dani casts an alarmed look at him and Edrisa stiffens. JT, who clearly had been listening outside the door comes in with a deep scowl on his face. “Who is it?”

“She doesn’t know. The killers were wearing masks the entire time but she saw enough to identify the uniform.” He shifts from side to side. One of their own. “It explains a lot.”

“That’s why your mom was asking ‘where is he’ in the precinct.” A flash of guilt and understanding passes over Dani’s face. She quickly covers it with one of curiosity instead. “So how do we narrow him down?”

“Well based on her description he’s white, late thirties to early forties judging on his voice. Fit build in order to carry bodies and super religious.”

“How does she tell he was religious?”

“She didn’t. The surgeon did.” Gil states. Edrisa’s face sinks turning back to Malcolm. He nods at her, a promise that he’s ok if a little tired. “When I visited him Dr. Whitly talked about the needle’s eye. It was the name the killers claimed just before Jess escaped.”

“The needle’s eye?” Ainsley asks, she kept up with the news being a journalist but it’s the reference she’s not familiar with. Not that Gil blames her, none of the Whitly’s really grew up religious.

“It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” Gil recites, Martin’s tone still fresh in his mind. The room holds still for a second, processing. 

“A religious white cop in his early 40s. Simple.” Dani shrugs bitterly. She’s right, half of the cops in their precinct alone could match that description. It doesn’t help that they can’t pass along the information. They’ve seen this play out too many times. Defensive tones and screaming matches. More intent on protecting friends than the people they’re meant to serve. Even when there’s undeniable proof, they’d sooner fall on the sword than turn against a fellow officer. 

All of the people he trusts are in this building.

“I’ll speak to Jess.” Gil sighs. None of them argue, with Ainsley still processing his words and Dani and JT stirring in the anger of yet another corrupt cop. It’s Edrisa who breaks the tension.

“Bright, why don’t we make some tea for your mom?” It’s a small question but the relief on Malcolm’s face is immediate. His answer is an eager nod and quick steps. He knows the steps of his mom’s drink by heart but her presence is an ease on the pressure.

Ainsley’s heel taps 3 times. It’s an anxious tick to keep her own tears at bay. Dani stands and tosses her head at the door. “Let’s go on a drive.”

Her eyes go comedically wide. “Me? No, I’m fine.” Dani evens her with one look. When a Whitly says their fine, it is a guaranteed lie. “Well, everyone should eat and I doubt Gil has enough food for 7 people.”

He laughs but knows what each of them are doing. His walls are thin. Without the noise of casual chatter, either Whitly would be able to hear their mom and if it got tense? It would be something Jess wouldn’t want either of them to hear. He swells, just a little, feeling grateful that his team will take care of his family.

Now for him to as well.

When he comes in Jessica looks annoyed, knowing that he needs to go through the process of questioning all over again. “Dani and Ainsley are going to get food.” Her eyebrows furrow. “I can send them to your favorite diner.”

“It’s not my favorite.” She pushes and it makes him smile. He’d taken her to a rundown diner shortly after Martin’s arrest. It was a hole-in-the-wall place, the food greasy and burnt coffee permeating the air. It was a place where nobody would recognize her, everyone too focused on just getting by to be caught up on the socialite drama. They frequented there for years and no matter how many times she insisted it wasn’t her favorite, her eyes lit up in a special way when she ordered the cherry pie.

“Sure it’s not.” He sits in the seat across from her. Her eye roll is a gratifying one, it’s clear she’s beginning to feel more like herself. “So what didn’t you tell Malcolm.”

She gapes, ready to defend herself. But he tilts his head with a knowing stare. She sighs, annoyed and relents. “I told him most of it.”

“Most?”

“How I got shot, stabbed.” She looks to the door, “He wouldn’t leave until I did. After I told him…” That the killer is a cop, he finishes in his head, “he didn’t trust anyone else to question me.”

“Did you talk about Freddy?” The look on her face is enough to tell him no, she hadn’t. “We found his family.”

“God.” She breathes.

“His name was Francisco Garcia, he was a volunteer at Claremont.” Her face drops, already coming to the realization before he says anything. “His mother is Dr. Garcia.”

For a moment she sinks back into herself. For one terrifying moment he thinks she’ll shut down again. And then she laughs.

It’s deep and bitter, where every emotion is so strong, so overwhelming. Too many tears had been shed in the past two weeks that the empty laugh is haunting. He knows it’ll be in his nightmares. “Of fucking course.” She takes a deep breath and he knows if she were in her own home she’d be throwing something. But since it’s not she controls herself not to break anything of his. “He was connected to Martin.”

“That’s why you went to see him.”

“Yes.” She stands, her energy too much now. She paces back and forth in the small space between his bed and closet. She turns back to him, eyes wild with unkempt rage. “You know what he asked me?” She shakes her head. “He asked someone broke into our home. Our home!” She tosses her head back, her wild curls flying with the motion. “That bastard hasn’t lived there for 20 fucking years and he dared to call it our home. And,” She gasps remembering more. “And he looked at me. Concerned! Like he has any fucking right. It just-” Another gasp. “It reminded me of-”

He walks to her holding his hands out slowly. She eyes the movement warily but when he places her hands on her shoulders she breathes evenly again, though still furious. His fingers stroke the exposed skin from where his shirt that she was wearing had slipped down.

She steadies herself with his touch. “What gives him the right? He doesn’t care for us. He wants to control us.” Her eyes light again. “And- He knew! He knew that bastard is a cop. That all this time. When he threatened Malcolm and Ainsley. And he acts like he cared!”

“The killer threatened Malcolm and Ainsley?”

“I wasn’t cooperating. He told me he’d bring them in and make them choose between me or a stranger.” Gil takes a shaky breath. “And Martin knew. I called Malcolm our son.” Her voice breaks at that, her head bowing into his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her and her own come to grip the back of his tee shirt tightly at his shoulder blades. She clings on like if she loosens her hold for even a second, he’ll disappear.

He presses a kiss to her temple whispering soft comforts to her while they rocked back and forth. He rubs soothing circles between her shoulders careful of places where he knows that bruises still linger. When she finally calms down he doesn’t know what to say. If he lets her speak first she’ll apologize, pull herself away from him. He won’t let her do that so he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind. “You know, Malcolm punched a journalist.”

This laugh is lighter. Her shoulders shake in a new way, alleviating all the tension in the room. It fills the hollowness that her confession had left. She must have pictured it because her laugh gets louder and he can’t help but laugh too.

And he knows they’ll be ok.

[bambigoose]

Master Manipulator

Kelhani was freezing, its four degrees out in Toronto today and it didn’t matter how tightly she wrapped herself up nothing was generating more heat for her. A vast jump from the sixty four degrees it was when she left Cape Town, South Africa yesterday afternoon. Her internship with Apex Shark Expeditions had kept her halfway around the world for the past six months. Currently the sharks have migrated out of the area for the next few months and Chris her internship overseer gave them free reign to work from wherever they’d like for the next two months as long as they had the research completed for their due dates and were present at the weekly meetings over skype. This was going to mean a few nights of waking up at three am for a skype call, but she got to come home for a bit so it was worth it. Besides, there were days she was walking up at three am to head out on the boat, skyping would be easy.

Waiting for the crosswalk to change, she chuckled to herself. Looking up ahead she could see Stephanie jumping up and down attempting to use Mitch’s shoulder as support in an attempt to spot her. Having stopped to do an errand before meeting up with them, Kelhani was approaching from a different direction. Hearing the beeping of the light change she proceeded across the street weaving in and out of people in a desperate attempt not to be noticed. Clumsily tripping over her own two feet she was forced to admit walking like a normal person may be in her best interest.

“Mitch do you see her?” Stephanie asked as Kelhani approached. The petite blonde kept leaping into the air using Mitch’s shoulder for balance and lift like it’ll make her see further up the street.

Mitch was sputtering, moving his girlfriend’s hair out of his face, “Babe, I can’t see anything through your hair.” He laughed. On her next landing, Stephanie punched Mitch in the arm with a soft thump.

“Hey now, don’t injure the super star Steph, the entire city might come after you.” Kelhani said wrapping her arms around both of them from behind. She was pretty sure the warning did nothing to help. Stephanie shrieked before throwing herself into her, arms flailing, and whacked poor Mitch right in the nose.

“IMISSEDYOUSOMUCH,YOU’RENEVERALLOWEDTOLEAVELIKETHATAGIAIN.” Spewed out of Stephanie’s mouth in one breath, her face turning red towards the end of it.

Kelhani laughed, “You have two months before I have to take off again.” while dipping out of Stephanie’s arms to hug Mitch properly too. Despite his calm demeanor the second the opening presented itself Mitch had her in the air spinning around and giggling like a little child.

Stephanie beamed seeing her best friend and boyfriend get along so well. Kelhani and she met the summer they both turned six. After years of supporting each other, sleepovers, joint family vacations, graduations, and break ups they’d remained incredibly close despite all of their differences. Their relationship was put to the test when they elected to attend different colleges, Kelanhi leaving to attend the University of Pensacola in Florida while Stephanie remained in Toronto. Previously, she stressed herself almost to the point of sickness over Mitch and Kelhani meeting for the first time. It turned out to be completely unneeded. The two of them had been talking through the Whatsup App without her knowing once their relationship had reached the six month mark. She almost dropped to the floor when Mitch ran through the apartment to greet his “second girlfriend” when they got home from the airport. Now, she fights with her own boyfriend for time with her best friend during their visits.

“Can you even breathe in all these layers? Mitch quipped, dropping Kelhani back on her feet.

Looking down at her down jacket, with a north face and a sweater on underneath it, her scarf kept inching up her face forced by the jacket and mittens covered her hands. “My blood thinned out okay! It’s freezing out here.”

Stephanie laughed, linking her arm through Mitch’s left while he reached out linking his right arm with Kelhani. “Let’s get the beach bum inside.”

Mitch started walking leading the girls through the crowds toward their lunch destination while Kelhani leaned forward to look at both of them, “Should we start skipping and singing we’re off to see the wizard?” She smiled as her two best friends laughed, she was home and this moment made freezing her ass off worth it.  

….

Lunch with Mitch and Stephanie was always an adventure is the best way to describe it. Entering the restaurant they bicker over who got to sit next to her.  Mary, their usual waitress at the diner rolled her eyes when they entered, used to the bickering of the couple. Kelhani greeted the sixty-six year old waitress with a hug. Their pseudo grandmother catching up with her quickly as Mitch attempted to rant with arms waving that it was the quality of the friendship not the length that should dictate seating privileges. Both of them were so engrossed in their argument, neither noticed Kelhani  and Mary walk over to the round corner booth for about five minutes. “Where’d Kel go?”

“She decided she interfered too much in your relationship and elected to go home.” Mary responded, eyes narrowing at the pair from behind the counter.

“Look what you did.” Stephanie whacked Mitch with the back of her hand in the chest.

“What I did? I called her mid walk! You just didn’t like that I did it before you!” Mitch lightly hip checked Stephanie to emphasize his point.

Mary looked ready to interject before Kelhani called from the back, “You two are the least observant people I know!”

Whipping their heads around like excited Golden Retrievers hearing a treat bag being opened, they both beamed seeing Kelhani straw in mouth sucking down on a chocolate mint milkshake with their favorite flavors on either side of her. A moment later, Kelhani had to wonder if this is what it felt like to be running with the bulls. Mitch and Stephanie took off in her direction, bumping each other out of the way and knocking into booths before finally sliding into her on either side with enough force to cause her to spill part of her milkshake.

Mitch ignored Kelhani’s pout, reaching over her for the menu, “Why do you even bother looking? We get the same thing every time.” Stephanie leans forward grabbing the menu out of Mitch’s hand causing Kelhani to jolt her milkshake again.

“What if they have good specials today?”

If looks could kill Mitch would be dead, the city of Toronto would be in mourning, and Kelhani would have lost her Canadian citizenship. Whipping up the third milkshake spill of the day, “You two do realize you are why we can’t have nice things, right?”

Mary came to the rescue with a new milkshake as the couple cringed. She smirked and looked directly at Kelhani for an answer. “The usual sweethearts?”

Mitch eagerly leaned forward, “Well, if I could look at a menu…”

He was interrupted as Kelhani placed her hand on his face and pushed him back fully into the seat. “Yes please ma’am.” With a glare to either side of her, “The children are going to behave or we’ll be getting out of your hair.”

“WE’RE NOT CHILDREN!”

“Experience suggests differently you two.” Kelhani chuckled as they both attacked her sides. It was good to be home.

….

It was not good to be home. Mitch and Stephanie surprised her with a “small” house party they were throwing that night, which she absolutely had to come too because “we’ve missed you so much and it wouldn’t be right to do this without her.” The two of them had taken off to different areas and she was surrounded by Maple Leafs and their families who she had never met. A truly excellent way to make her anxiety feel like it was suffocating her while she contemplates how to leave without upsetting Mitch and Steph. Feeling the pressure building in her chest and finding an open route out onto the balcony Kelanhi attempted to make her escape.

Halfway across the room she collided into a brick wall, a quick sorry and a glance told her it had been Freddie Andersen. Her squeaky apology and accidental bumping pushed the anxiety almost into a full blown attack. She rushed towards the balcony missing the equally as quiet “it’s okay” and concerned look instead focusing on opening the door with the next to impossible to use handles.

Her breathing increased, almost gasping as she continued to struggle with the handle. The room appeared to be getting louder and louder while spinning the more she struggled before suddenly it was cut off. A large hand covered hers and pushed the handle opening the doors while barricating her with their body and shuffling forward out onto the balcony. Kelanhi braced herself on the railing and looked out over the Toronto skyline. Closing her eyes and breathing deeply, she took a moment to reorient herself and calm her body down before turning to look at the quiet presence off to her side.

Freddie was leaning on the corner of the balcony, looking out of the skyline while subtly looking out of the corner of his eyes at her. A loud exhale left Kelhani and Freddie turned to face her, leaning his hip against the railing. “Mitch’s place is too small for this many people…” he utters to her quietly.

A surprised gawf left Kelhani, her eyes rolling. “Don’t go telling him that.”

“I can go tell him we’re both leaving? Bulldoze our way to the door.” he suggests with a smile, Stephanie’s fairy lights twinkling in his eyes. Kelhani returned the smile with a slight nod of relief. “Of course I’ll need something for it.”

“And what’s that?”

“How about dinner? Don’t think I didn’t see you avoid all of the healthy apps too.”

For the second time in under two minutes another surprised gawf left Kelhani. “Who knew you were such a master manipulator Mr.Andersen.”

“Gotta keep people on their toes.”

Three minutes later as the two left the door. Mitch leaned over to Stephanie, “Your planned worked perfectly.”

“Well obviously, we gotta figure out a way to make sure she comes back here after her internship. Unless of course you’re looking for a trade.”

“Let’s just keep manipulating our friends.” Mitch laughs pulling her close in a celebratory hug.

[bubblyani]

Deeper Relations: 07

(Freddie Jackson x Reader)

A Freddie Jackson Multi Chapter Series

Chapter 07: The Declaration

Rating: Mature (18+)

Requested by: @97freaknik. Thanks for this gem!

Summary: Being the youngest sister of Jackie and Maggie, you were quite young when Freddie Jackson went to prison. Upon his return, you cannot help but recall your innocent love you had for him back then. And surprised by your transformation into womanhood, Freddie cannot help but form a desire towards you. Will a dangerously seductive attraction grow between the two of you? What will be the consequences?

Author’s Note: Even I was excited to write this ASAP. Hope y’all enjoy!

Series Masterlist HERE

Never did you have faith in the concept of heightened senses, until this moment. The muffled music from the dance floor finally reached your ears with clarity. And with eyes locked in the ceiling above you, it was finally possible for you to identify every single brush stroke that was lazily applied. A whiff of tobacco suddenly reached the ends of your nostrils, helping you spot the cloud of smoke that traveled towards where your eyes rested.

Turning your head, you watched Freddie. Sitting on a chair nearby, his pants remained unbuckled as he smoked. No words, not even a curse under the breath was uttered. Along with the air you took in to your lungs, you also took in the heavy silence. You did not know why. But you were compelled to respect his wishes. You sat up slowly, pulling the rest of your dress down, wiping off the sticky remnants of his release from your stomach with the material as you did so. With your your feet finally on the ground, the first thing you wanted to do was look for your missing panties.

It felt imperative that you retrieve it back. Not to wear it, for wearing it would be highly unhygienic. You just did not wish to cause suspicion. Getting on your knees, you bent down further, looking under the coffee table which was in front of the sofa. To your luck, you found it. Keeping the thin material crumpled up in your palm, you sat back on the sofa, watching Freddie. You hoped he would speak at least by now. You hoped he would at least turn back.

But he did not. All he could do was to keep smoking, as if no one else was there.

You felt a numbing feel in your chest. Was this it? You wondered. Could it be that the things he had said, only mattered until this very moment? Until the moment he finally had you to ravish? with your full consent? Perhaps it was a curiosity he had to explore. And being Freddie, he had his eyes set on that curiosity he made it convincing. And now that the deed was done, there was no need to look that way again. Perhaps you were too young, not experienced enough as his previous conquests, that you proved to be not as memorable. As those thoughts went through you, insecurity took over. You felt foolish. Could it be that all that you felt was simply moot?

Before you could ponder on it any further, you heard the creak on Freddie’s chair when he got up. Without a passing a glance, he exited the room. Except, he left with the door wide open. A part of you felt used. While the other part was just quiet. You waited for a few minutes until you finally decided to get up. Coming out of the room, the hallway was empty as the last time you saw it. Upon seeing your reflection on the door of the room right in front, you quickly rubbed the smudged lipstick off your chin. Your hair on the other hand, as wild as it was before.

You did not have the heart to return to the dance floor. With your eyes closed, you prayed for a way to leave the premises unnoticed.

“Y/N?”

You spotted Jimmy Jackson on your far right, standing on the end of the hallway, holding the doorknob. Crumpling the panties tighter in to a fist, you walked over to him.

Freddie had called his cousin to come take you home. And from what Jimmy informed you, there had been an altercation with you involved, and Freddie had saved you from it. That was all. You only hoped that really was all he had revealed to him.

“You alright?”

Jimmy asked, all the sudden. Genuine concern was evident in his voice as he drove you home. Looking over, you merely nodded at him, turning away to face the window once again. Quite taken by your silence, Jimmy felt uncomfortable himself. This was unlike you. With an eventful night comprising of a fight, he expected you to dramatically burst. Giving him an earful about everything down to the smallest detail. But not this silence.


“Don’t know what exactly happened but…” he began, “I’m glad that Freddie was there tonight-You…” he paused, “You sure you’re alright, Y/N?” Looking back at you, he could not help but repeat his question.

“Yeah” Short but informative. you finally answered as your eyes never left the window. Jimmy, he was really like a brother you never had. You adored him fully. But at that moment, you really preferred not to discuss anything further.

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(The next morning)

You woke up an hour later than you usually would in the weekends. With a dreamless sleep, it seemed that you have rested well.

Slowly sitting up, you were suddenly aware that you were a woman more than ever. With last night still fresh in your memory, it had affected your body and your soul. But you fancied that. It was not something you longed to forget. You felt a pang of guilt for even attempting to recall it, for it felt so secretive, it felt like a crime. But you were alone.

Clenching your stomach, you felt the presence of your opening with certainty. Clenching those muscles, your body recalled it all. The way it embraced him between your thighs, the way it held on to him tightly as he moved inside. Gripping the sheets on either sides of the bed, you found yourself grinding against the mattress, trying to find a shred of similarity of last night. But nothing came close.

The thought of last night, it made your eyes flutter, and made you drunk with desire. All you craved was to lay back down and daydream for the whole day. With your fingers dancing over your lips, you shuddered. Oh! If only those kisses you shared with him were longer. Moving down, your fingers had an agenda of its own, stopping by your neck just to recall his kisses there. Letting out a frustrated sigh, you permitted the finger to keep moving. Even over your oversized t-shirt, your heaving breasts grew extremely sensitive as your fingers stopped by each one. As they felt them, grazing back and forth in repetition until the nipples grew very erect. Oh ! If only he have had his way with them, you knew it would have been so much better. Biting your lip, you fell back to bed, you fingers digging inside your shorts with haste. Oh! If only there was a time machine, taking you back to when he touched you there. Feeling your fingers rhythmically work inside, you regretted not pleasing him more. You wished you could have undressed him, savored him in every possible manner. Your mouth dropped open, pairing up with your widened eyes, as you indulged in this erotic pleasure till finally you found your sweet release. Taking your fingers out, you pretend it was him instead. And when you did, it was silent to your utter frustration.

You were infatuated with him, and it was clearly obvious. You could finally admit it. No matter how he thought of you now, you wanted him. Even if there was no possibility, your mind cannot be changed, and it probably never will. Funny how the tables have turned.

Panting, you curled up on your side. Your feelings were finally visible before you with such organization, no trace of confusion was to be seen.

After a few minutes have passed, you jumped out of bed, and went out to make an important phone call.

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(Few hours later)

Your legs kept swinging, whilst you sat on the bench. The park nearby your house felt desolated on the week days. But it was the weekend that made it shine. Though the weather was cloudy, the crowds were tempted to come out, savoring their freedom. You sat patiently as you waited. But at the same time, a nervous feeling grew in your stomach.

You just hoped he would come.

And just in time, you saw him. With his arrival, that nervousness disappeared.

Hands digging deep in his jacket pockets, Marcus was finally within your sights walking over to you. Cheeks still pink from the morning chill, he appeared to look much younger than usual. He halted when he saw you stand up, giving him a small smile. Taking another step, you went ahead to surprise him with an embrace. An embrace that he did not take long to return.

“I’m sorry for last night…” you breathed, your voice muffled against his shoulder. Patting your back, Marcus exhaled deeply. “It’s alright…”

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You always could enjoy the silence with Marcus. That was one of the reasons he made a great friend. Sitting together side by side, you both watched the people passing by for a minute. Until you finally decided to speak:

“You were right, you know…” You began“You were right to ditch me that day…” Looking down, Marcus sighed heavily. “Y/N, for the last time…” he said, “I never thought bad of you… no matter what my parents said-” “No I mean…” you paused, “You were right to ditch me because…You and I…it doesn’t make sense” You said, looking at him, who appeared confused. Inhaling deeply, you continued, “Unfortunately, getting hurt…It made things easier for me to understand everything” you chuckled, “Can you imagine if you did come?…Oh! My family would have loved you instantly… So breaking up after that would probably just break their hearts…” you said. When he finally slowly nodded in realization, you sat closer to him.

“Marcus…I love you” you said, taking his hand “I do. But last night I finally realized. I was never in love with you”you added,  “And let’s be honest, neither were you”

Staring at you with wide eyes, Marcus sighed in relief. As if all the frustration and problems had just left his body, cleansing his soul. Later, squinting his eyes, he looked thoughtful.

“But then… what was it?” You heard him ask. Pressing your lips, you relaxed your shoulders. “I was in a shitty place…as you could recall. And you just being there for me…I…I misread it as something romantic. We both have been lonely for a while. So, it’s possible we were seeking some sort of comfort from each other?” You, looking up in mid-thought.

Chuckling, Marcus shot you a teasing look.

“Blimey, when did you become so insightful?”

“Since you punched me right in the heart, you wanker” you replied, sticking out your tongue, which made him laugh. “Hey-” he said, punching you on the arm playfully. As the laughter died down, you both could not help but reminisce.

“But you have to admit, the kissing was fun, right?” Marcus said, to which you nodded smiling. 
“Yeah it was…”you said, “You’ll make the next girl very happy, mate” you added while giving a thumbs up. The two of you kept your hands in your jacket pockets, sharing the silence in comfort. You suddenly felt Marcus turned to you.

“You alright now?”he asked, “About the family drama you mentioned?” He was truly your friend, sensing the uneasiness you had in your heart. Looking back at him, your eyes squinted, not knowing where to begin or what to say.

“I guess” you said, “…most of it anyways…” you continued “but… I don’t know”. For truthfully, you really did not know.

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One, Two and Three. Just like that, days passed. And it all felt quite normal. You appreciated that feeling more than ever before. You really did. All was well with your friends once again. Which meant a huge part of your life being healed. You spent the entirety of the weekend in their company. Just like the good old days. And you’ve never seen Heath so happy to have his two friends back, making your heart melt. All was well.

Yet, there was always one small thing, one unanswered question, that made you stare out into the distance thoughtfully every now and then.Truthfully it was nothing small. But you were in denial.

You heard nothing from Freddie ever since that night, and there was no sight of him around your house either. Did this silence mean there was nothing further to pursue on between them? Was he giving you the hint this way? Forget this, Y/N. That night of passion was merely a dream. He probably would have meant to say all that.

Perhaps this was a hint. But t it wasn’t so easy for you to get over. You found yourself thinking about it a lot everyday. And your heart made sure of that.

He would suddenly come to mind, in the most unexpected times. But it was mostly when you were in your lonesome, which was a relief for your thoughts were far from clean.

You would feel a fire in you, burning between your thighs every single time. Sometimes you would put the fire out, with showers of the harsh reality. But other times when you were less controlled and more vulnerable, you would let the fire burn more. You would do so by locking yourself up, and pleasuring yourself with the thought of him and that night.

Truthfully this was nothing small at all.

The more you tried to push the truth away, the more questions arose. Could his absence symbolize all was well with him and Jackie? Were the couple passionately in love once again after all these years? It it were the case you would have been overjoyed. If only you were not in love with your sister’s husband. Instead of joy, the mere thought it drove you to jealousy. It even made you worry: Was he finally convinced your sister was a better lover than you?

Or worse, was he not satisfied enough that he returned to philandering once again?Whoever it was, you were jealous. You wanted him, all to yourself. As bad as it sounded, you were not afraid to admit for it was the truth.

One morning, you heard Jimmy’s voice. Excited, you rushed over to the kitchen, only to find him alone, talking to Maggie affectionately as usual. No Freddie.

After breakfast, Jimmy offered you a ride to lectures, which you accepted. Not because your sister insisted, but you simply wanted to clear the awkwardness that remained since Friday night. You rarely were quiet with him usually. So that cruel silence was undeserving of him.

The drive was quiet at first. So you took the initiative.

“So um…how’s er…business?” You asked. Slowly turning his head towards your direction, Jimmy raised his eyebrows. “What?” Embarrassed, you clicked your tongue. “Come on Jimmy ! I’m not a kid. You know I know what you guys do” you said, “Might as well be open about it” you added that with a convincing tone. Chuckling softly, he focused on the road again. “Now there’s the Y/N I know…”he muttered, making you sigh in relief. All was finally well with the both of you, “It’s alright actually, much better than I thought” “What about Freddie?” You suddenly asked,  “Haven’t seen him around lately…” Trying to sound casual as possible, you badly wanted to know. Was it strange to ask? Possibly not, it was just your paranoia. Jimmy did not mind. “Yeah…Freddie’s been busy lately” he said, “And thats not bad, really. He’s actually more focused now…but he seems different. Not as cheery as before. As if something’s going on inside here” he said pointing at his temple, “I miss the old Freddie” he said with a sigh.

Nodding, you also looked ahead. “I get it…” you muttered “Hope it all works out though…”

The end of that conversation made you raise more questions inside. Was it special work stress? Or were you a part of the problem?

When you returned home that afternoon, you were greeted with a phone call. But certainly not from anyone of your familiarity.

“Hello, is this Ms.Y/N Summers?”  

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“Hello, Ms.Summers! I’m calling from the Rose Gardens Hotel. We would like to relay a message from a Mr.Freddie Jackson? Yes. We were to inform you that he will be waiting for you at our Hotel tomorrow at 2pm for a meeting”

This message, it kept replaying in your head. Throughout the entire night and the from the moment you woke up the next morning. Even chewing your breakfast, you were haunted by those words, leaving you with a confused expression.

The first time you’ve heard from Freddie after almost a week, and it still was not him who relayed the message. It seemed so formal. So unlike him. Truth be told, this had never happened before. 2pm, you have lectures at that time. So this did not seem possible. No can do. What was he trying to pull? Feeling uneasy, you decided to let the study pressure take over you and head for lectures.

The classes went on as usual, and you maintained your focus. But, the closer the hours got towards the designated time, your stomach began to turn. You grew nervous. During lunch break you could not even eat. Cause all you could do was wonder. Why ask for a meeting in this manner? Was it to reveal good news? Something you were dying to hear? Or was it something you dreaded to know? The bitter truth?

1pm. You walked slowly to the other lecture hall. It was a habit for you to get to the hall early after lunch in order to prepare with the lesson, or to even help Heath with his homework. With only an hour left, you grew more uneasy and curious.

Gripping on the doorknob, it was when you finally realized. Whether the good or the bad, it did not really matter. You simply needed to know. Never did you want to be one of those idiots who’ll live without any clarity. If heartbreak was meant to be, you will still survive for you were human. Besides, you would be a fool to miss out on meeting someone you missed with all your heart.

Turning back, you walked fast, bumping into Marcus and Heath. “Oi! Where you off to?” Heath asked. “Emergency…See ya tomorrow, lads” you replied loudly,  as you walked.

Whatever happens, better to know.

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The Rose Gardens Hotel was a quaint little place, situated bit further away. But you managed to get there by bus quite easily. Walking over to the front desk, you identified yourself and asked for Freddie, to which they merely responded silently with a paper that had the Room Number. So confidential, you wondered if he chose this place for a reason.

Walking down the hallway, you felt concerned, but more than that you felt nervous. How were you going to react? You felt like a lovestruck teenager.

Finally, standing before the door, you stared at the number. Whatever happens, better to know. With that reminder, you knocked on the door.

You held your breath when the door, revealing Freddie’s face. As much as you were nervous, you felt warmth spreading through you the moment you saw his soft smile. You smiled back. How he still managed to look so young and handsome, you did not know.

“Hey…” He breathed. “Hi…” you replied. “I was worried you might not come…” he said, letting you enter. He sounded so different. Quite shy to be specific. “I had to…” you began, pausing upon seeing him close the door with a worried expression, “I don’t think I could have lived not knowing anything”

The room was quite adorable, furnished with a Kingsize Bed, Bedside cupboards, a Television, Writing desk and an old fashioned Armchair by the window. Sitting on the edge of the neatly made bed, you watched Freddie stand by the window. Staring through it, he did not look at you. The tension suddenly grew in the room, and proceeded to brim with it. “You had class?” He asked suddenly. “Having…now.” You said, making him turn to you, “But it’s alright…” you dismissed it with your hand and an awkward chuckle. “Right…”Freddie said, “ Right…” turning back to the window, returning to his pondering. You baldy wanted to know what on earth was going on. Given his behavior you could tell he was nervous, with one hand on his hip and the other rubbing the top of his nose bridge.

“Y/N I…” Putting both hands on his hips, he turned to you, “I can’t do this. I can’t fucking do this anymore” He did not sound angry, instead he sounded desperate. And it scared you. Could this really be it? Him taking everything back, and nothing really happened?

“Do what, Freddie?” You heard yourself ask. Letting out a deep breath, he kept looking at you.

“Denying how I feel…about you” You stood up the moment you heard it. A “what?” left your lips inaudibly involuntarily. To which he nodded to.

“All that I said about you before…I wasn’t lying” he said, pointing at you with his index finger, “You…you are different. Something about you I just…can’t fucking put my finger on. I can’t fucking believe you are even from the same family as them” he scoffed, “And after that night…” his eyes turned intoxicated, as if he relived that moment in his head, “Y/N…” he breathed, taking few steps closer:

“I’m crazy about you” He said, his voice desperately soft.

With a dropped jaw, and with your hand clutching your chest, you wondered if there was any trace of breath left in your body.

“Freddie …I…” you began. Closing his eyes with frustration, he covered his face. 
“If you’re going to refuse, then-”

“Who said that?”

Taking his hands off his face, he looked at you with shock upon hearing your response. You walked to him, finally standing only a few inches away. Looking down, you held your own hands as you spoke:

“I’m sorry…for pushing you away from the start. For breaking your heart every… single …time. It’s just…It seemed so wrong, you have to understand.” Looking up you scoffed, “This is fucking crazy. This is fucked up. And I was worried whether this was all just a game to you” you said, “But…” your voice grew soft, “…after everything, after that night, when you rescued me, when you…” you paused, shuddered by thought of him inside you, “I just had it.” You said, “No more silent suffering…” you added, reaching out to take his hand. Finally holding it with consciousness, it felt nice in yours. Looking at it, you traced your manicured fingers over his new scar, reminding you of the fresh cut during family dinner, “I wanted you ever since I was a little girl…” looking up, “…and I want you even still…No! Even more than that. I-”

“I love you…”

Your eyes widened. Averting his eyes, he admitted it shyly in a low voice. It was simply unbelievable. The one line you wanted to hear from him, all your life. And there it finally was. Happiness bloomed out of every cell of your body.

In response, all you could do was to bend your head, and kiss his scar with the purest affection. Looking up at him, you smiled fully:

“I love you too”

Seeing your sunshine of a smile, Freddie could not help but smile in return. With noses brushing against one another, patience was nonexistent as you both went in for a kiss.

The last time you kissed Freddie Jackson, you kissed him with heart, but it did not have enough of the heart you had at this moment. With both parties finally making their declarations, all was finally out in the open. It felt right. It felt perfect. And it was more passionate than ever before. With your arms around his neck, you pulled him in, helping him rest his hands comfortably on your waist. Along with the expressive kisses, came in the lust without hesitation. He surprised you with his eager tongue begging for entrance to meet yours. You permitted it instantly, moaning into the kiss as you felt the tongues intertwine, deepening the affectionate ritual. Your moans intensified when his hands swiftly moved over to cup your buttocks once again.

“Fuckin’ Hell!” He breathed in your lips, “How the fuck did you turn out so beautiful? You’ve really changed so much…oh!” Groaning in frustration, his palms held on to the full curvaceous proportionate posterior you possessed. You smiled in mischief.

“I grew up, you perv” you teased, to which he laughed heartily.

“Come here!” He growled, interrupting your teases by pressing his lips against yours.

With one hand still practically making itself home on your buttocks, the other slithered in front, impatiently trying to pull your tucked in t-shirt out of your jeans. Getting the message, you offered your assistance, taking the shirt off over your head and tossing it aside. When you did it oh so passionately, you saw him stare at you with hunger, with eyes heavily doused with lust. Feeling bolder now, you teased him even further, staring into his eyes, slowly unhooking the lace bra and letting it fall off your frame. Those lustful eyes of his grew bigger. When the man was finally given what he really wanted, how would he act? What would he do? Those were the questions that came to your head as you felt the cool air in the room caressed your exposed torso.

“Ever since that night in the shower, I kept undressing you in my head…” he said, in a deep voice, “But none of that could be compared to this…” he breathed heavily, “This…You…are fucking perfect” he admitted, raising his hands in an instant, but keeping them at bay as he stared at your exposed frame. Taking both his hands, you kept them on your breasts.

“Well, there’s no need to imagine now…”

You purred, opening your mouth in a sultry manner. Growling with frustration, Freddie kissed you violently in response. Finally, you felt a sense of satisfaction with his hands feeling you at a place that craved for his touch. Your heaving breasts, they fitted in his hands so perfectly. And regardless of your overwhelming arousal, but just sheer brush pf his palms, you felt your nipples stand upright all the sudden.

As much as you longed to be touched, caressed and teased, another growing desire was reminded. Backing him up, you pushing his lightly, forcing him to fall on to the armchair. He looked genuinely surprised as you got on your knees, and spread his knees wide open in order to get in between to kiss him once again. Your hands grew busy, running them over his thighs, later sneakily rubbing your right palm over his clothed manhood.

“Oh…” Freddie chuckled into the kiss, “Someone’s hungry?…” he purred. 
“What can I do?” You said, as you unzipped his pants, “You were the tease that night…coming in to piss” you added, making you both chuckle. Finally, you could both laugh about that night instead of dreading. You only wanted good memories. Especially when it came to memories with him.

Taking your sweet, sweet time, you gently pulled out his erect shaft, that sprung out from his underwear with ease. You stared at it with hunger, you took in every inch of it with your eyes, letting your nimble fingers hold it and run over it like it was most precious object. Freddie moaned in a manner that made you weak.

“Fuck…” he said, “I love this view…” he looked proud, as he watched you. Pleased with the result, you flashed a naughty smile.

“Word on the street is that you’ve been working hard” you purred, licking your lips with a genuine appetite, “I think it’s time you’re…appreciated”

As he threw his head back on the armchair, moans escaped Freddie’s lips. They escaped when he felt your tongue take its own journey. When it showed affection with every lick,  leaving no inch unattended. When your mouth fully proceeded to take him in whole, indulging him into completion, until he finally ran out of words.

______________________________________

Chapter 8 HERE

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