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sleepyjuniper · 2 years

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What are some headcanons you have for Gregory? I've never thought too much about him so I think it'd be neat to hear what you have

Aside from Gregory being left handed? I'll see what I can come up with. I'll include some reasoning for my headcanons with each one I list, starting with the left handed theory.

1. Gregory is left handed

Every item Gregory holds in game— the flashlight, the fazcam, the fazerblaster, the fazwatch— he uses with his left hand. There are other games where player characters hold items, and some of them are held in the character's right hand, which is why I'm led to believe Gregory is just left handed. It doesn't carry any importance, really, and the devs probably didn't do it intentionally, but I like looking at him that way, since he's already such an oddball. It just makes him all the more endearing.

2. Gregory is sometimes nonverbal

This one is honestly me projecting a little, because I'm prone to being nonverbal at times too, but there is some game evidence to back it up. This is, once again, another example of a likely oversight when the developers were making the game, but there's several instances of scripted moments in the game where Gregory has no voicelines— namely the daycare sequence and all of the boss fights (except Afton's). This also makes him look a little bit insane, when he's interacting with a creepy daycare robot or being chased by a blind Roxy, and has nothing to say about it. But I like to imagine that based on his circumstances (whatever they may be) he hasn't talked to other beings a whole lot, so when he's by himself, he's usually silent. And he's so used to being silent because of how much he's alone, that when he IS with someone else, he'll sometimes fall into those nonverbal trances and have to be coerced out of it. This could also be combined with general antisocial behavior or shyness/awkwardness, because why wouldn't he have that problem, if he didn't have a standard, loving and safe childhood? He didn't get a chance to develop the social skills a kid his age would normally have.

3. He's a lost child, or an orphan

If you're asking me what *I* think his backstory is in regards to the game, that explains how he could end up in the Plex by himself, never mention his parents, and end up sleeping in a box in one of the endings, *I* think it's because he doesn't have parents, or has been separated from them for a long time. He would've had to be on his own for a while to have such an attitude of "I can handle myself, all I want to do is get out of this damn mall." Not trusting adults like Vanessa implies that he either has an uncanny sense for underutilized villains, or he's been evading adults and hiding in alleys and stuff for months, maybe years, though it's a painful thought to consider. He's clearly way tougher than he ever should have had to be.

OR— and this is much darker, something happened to his parents the day of him arriving at the Plex, which is why he fled and hid inside of Freddy, and then in the "leave" ending, wound up sleeping in a box. He wouldn't know where to go after escaping, just that he wanted to leave the Pizzaplex. Whatever happened to his parents, it's likely repressed, because he hasn't properly processed it and grieved.

Also, Gregory didn't have a guest profile, but he was still in the mall, so maybe he was with his parents and none of them had entry passes, then his parents got captured by authorities, but he escaped/got separated from them, and didn't know how to get back to them after the events of the game? Honestly I'm just spitballing here at this point, I have no clue LOL.

4. He knows swears, but doesn't like to use them

This is mostly inspired by that one scene in my fic where I had him say "shit" cause— I mean, the situation called for it. It was appropriate at the moment. I imagine he's heard swears, and probably grew up (at a very young age) being told not to swear, so he's got all these effective words in his head that he doesn't ever utter unless they just slip out. (He also probably doesn't know what all of them mean.) They're probably not even in mind normally, and are just tucked away somewhere in his memory. He does use a lot of soft swears, or more tame swears, (like the "oh crap!" We hear him say in game) because a kid swear can convey the frustration just as effectively. Could also be an attempt to make himself more palatable, because it helps his chances if he's not some scruffy lost kid who also swears like a sailor.

In general, I think whenever he does say a more adult swear, he'd be instantly ashamed, because he knows he's not supposed to be swearing. (Like, he definitely felt this after he swore in chapter 3 FFGSHDHDHH fun fact. Like, he was NOT making a good first impression with his new savior.)

5. That's All, Folks!

These turned out more rambly than I was planning, and I actually had a lot more fun writing out some of these thoughts than I was expecting. Even though I'm sure some of them just sound like nonsense. I hope you enjoyed reading nonetheless, and thank you so much for sending the ask, Ren! <33

I'm sure there's way more I could add to this, but for the sake of time, and me being tired as fuck boi, I decided to end it there. If you all want to see more of this though, feel free to send more asks like it, or ask about details you want talked about further!

#asks #june is typing #mutuals #fnaf security breach #gregory fnaf #fnaf sb #security breach #visions or lack thereof

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sickfics-for-days · 6 months

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Sometimes It's Easier to Hide

Upon their return to Greyskull Keep, Percy immediately went down to his workshop. The familiar routine of coaxing a flame back into his forge steadied his shaking hands and occupied his spiraling thoughts. Once the flames roared to life, he moved over to his workbench, unrolling the diagrams and schematics of his most recent ideas. It would take several hours for there to be workable coals in the forge, so best to fill the time with reviewing and improving his plans.

He quickly lost himself in calculations, drawing and redrawing schematics, analyzing the best way to combine features into weapons that would give the user an advantage over their opponent. In what seemed like no time at all, the embers were glowing hot, and he wasted no time in beginning the process of creating the components he would need.

Only six pieces in, he was forced to take a break and light some of the oil lamps he kept around in order to continue his work. As he lit them, his stomach growled, reminding him how long it had been since his last meal. Glancing briefly at the closed door, the image of Keyleth, still and unmoving, replayed in front of his eyes. He turned resolutely back to his forge, hammer falling with renewed vigor.

His eyes burned as the sun rose. Gratefully, he extinguished the smokey oil lamps before returning to his workbench and began the process of piecing things together. They weren’t fitting quite right, so he retrieved some sandpaper and began refining the joints.

As he was looking over the finished product, a knock at the door startled him, almost causing him to drop it.

“Percy?” Vex called through the door.

Glancing across the room to make sure the door was still locked, Percy didn’t respond.

“Darling, please come out. You need to eat something.”

Percy cleared his throat, looking down at his shaking hands. That moment played through his mind, of the explosion, one he had caused, throwing his best friend across the battlefield. It wasn’t supposed to have been so volatile, to have such a large radius.

“I’m quite busy at the moment, perhaps later,” he called through the door.

Pulling the plans responsible for the disaster, he began reviewing the calculations, trying to determine what had gone wrong.

The lamps had been lit again, and his hands now shook too badly to measure the black powder he needed, so he had returned to the forge, hammering out the metal pieces for his next arrowhead idea for Vex. His arms burned, but the familiar pain grounded him, and he relished it. This time he barely heard the knock on the door over the noise.

“Freddy, enough is enough. It’s been two days, you need to take a break.” Vax’s tone did not sound like he would be as easily put off as his sister.

Instead of responding, Percy continued working, focusing on which step of the process he was on. In the space of a few seconds, he barely remembered Vax was there at all. As such, when a hand was laid on his shoulder from behind, he dropped the hammer on the wrong spot, severing the metal in two and effectively ruining all the progress he had made on it.

Leaving it on the anvil, he spun around, intending to give Vax some stern words of his own about interrupting delicate work. Instead, he found himself continuing to turn, balance thrown by the sudden movement. He staggered, blinking rapidly through the headrush as he tried to regain equilibrium.

“Whoa, easy there.” Two hands grabbed his forearms, steadying him until he got his footing back under him.

Refocusing in front of him, Percy found himself face-to-face with Vax, who was clearly looking him over.

“You look awful.” His voice dripped sympathy in a way that made Percy’s skin crawl.

“Working at a forge is not usually considered good for one’s complexion.” He replied, shrugging off Vax’s grip and turning, more slowly this time, back to the ruined metal. “Please go away. I have important work to do.” He picked up each piece from the anvil and returned them to the coals, resigning himself to starting over.

“Like hell I’m leaving,” Vax argued. “You can’t keep going like this. What, do you want us to find you passed out down here alone? Or is it going to take something exploding because you were too tired to keep things together?”

Now that stung. Straightening up, Percy focused at the backside of the forge, stained black with smoke and soot. Before he could stop them, he found words tumbling from his mouth. “Clearly, things will explode when they shouldn’t no matter how much rest I’ve had. Now, Vax’ildan, if you don’t mind, I’ve got mistakes to rectify.”

As soon as they left his lips, Percy wished he could take the words back. His vision blurred as tears gathered in his eyes, the fear, guilt and pain he’d been trying so hard to avoid hitting him all at once. He closed his eyes, allowing the tears to fall as he saw her lying there on the ground, black powder marks showing his own destructive signature across her body. His body shook with silent sobs as he slowly sank to his knees.

“Hey now,” Vax said gently, sitting down next to him. “Keyleth is going to be fine. Pike patched her up, she’s just sleeping off the healing now. When she wakes up, she’ll be good as new. And you know the first thing she’s going to do then is march down here to lecture you. Do you want that?”

Percy shook his head.

“Honestly, me neither. Let’s get you some food and up to bed. It isn’t quite dawn, so we shouldn’t run into anybody. Sound good?”

Numbly, Percy nodded, shifting to stand. The ground tilted, and he promptly spilled onto his backside as his vision doubled.

“Easy there,” Vax reached out a hand to help him up. “You’ve really worked yourself into a state, haven’t you? Come on, we’ll go slow.”

#whumptober2023 #no.26 #working to exhaustion #tolvm #the legend of vox machina #fic #percy de rolo whump #percival fredrickstein von musel klossowski de rolo iii

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gamequeenanya · 8 months

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It's a good thing most of you didn't see my Discord theories, they were absolutely insane!

Heh. So with that said, I do have a theory about the FNAF movie and Phone Guy I'm pretty confident in. And that is something most theorists and youtubers don't want to admit, probably cause they're imagining this character a certain type of way and don't want to imagine him as "less hot." (Okay, I'm probably projecting a bit here. But I've come to terms with it because my favourite character will never be "ugly" to me. He's just not aged very well cause of the stress of the job. :( He would be only 32 at this point if he started in 1983 at age 23. I say age 23 because you need a Bachelor's Degree to become a company spokesperson, the job he probably had in FNAF 2. And this was probably his first job, since they managed to convince him Fazbear Ent.'s disregard for human life was normal.)

So, here's my theory! The previous security guard who we see for a couple seconds in the trailer is meant not to be a random "one-scene kill" character. He's meant to be Phone Guy!

Why we never hear the ring of the phone and the "Hello-hello?" is a little sus. I think they may be hiding him from the trailer either cause they want people to give his new actor a chance (I certainly will! <3) OR! Phone Guy is a spoiler character of some sort. (inb4 he ends up being Henry :P)

But I digress. The reason I think "Freddy's Security Guard" is Phone Guy is because if you compare the photos of what Ryan Reinike actually looks like and his character in the movie, you'll see that he's around mid-30s, young, with a full head of hair. Yet he has to wear makeup to make himself look older and more worn down. Blumhouse is a limited budged company. They're not going to spend money where they don't have to.

If this is just a random one scene character, why not just hire an actor who looks like that? ... Because this character is more important that a random "one scene kill" character. He'll probably be seen in flashbacks or in the FNAF 2 movie in a younger form! (We saw the FNAF 2 Foxy puppet in a brightened up trailer scene, which is pretty much confirmation for the prequel.) And it's much easier to use makeup to make a young actor look older than an old actor look young again. It will be interesting to see the choices they make!

That's pretty much it. I hope this made sense. I had fun making this theory and I know I am a nerd loser for analyzing this so hard. :P Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for any inaccuracies in this theory.

#fnaf #my theory #phone guy #fnaf movie

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ghostofscarley · 2 years

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Frozen

Fred Weasley x Reader

Inspired by 'Frozen' by Sabrina Claudio

Taglist: @wolfstardaughter-jj @weasleylovewishes @wixabear @14chubs @hehehhe1d @emso12

word count: 1.3k

(so.. this may be a repost.. and that's bc this was previously a theodore nott fic.. however, i think this suits our freddie perfectly and my theo work is discontinued and i wanted to repost this for our boy whilst i plan my next fic <3)

if we could live in this moment, and just hold it

keep my head on your chest

i’d never leave this bed

rays of sunlight spew across through the ajar curtains, illuminating the room. the slight breeze that cruises in through the opened window sends a chill down y/n’s spine, awaking her.

with a low groan, y/n opens her eyes slightly to see the window wide open, cursing the summer’s bipolar weather with its heated nights and chilly mornings.

trying to move, she is restrained by an arm that rests on her waist, instead being encased more from the sudden movement, light snores filling the air.

she turns her head to the right, her eyes landing on what can only be described as the embodiment of an angel.

as y/n goes to move some of the hair that had fallen in his face, a single ray of light hits the gem of the ring that rests on her left hand, creating a dazzling, iridescent glimmer.

the feeling of warmth against his forehead induces fred to stir awake, his eyes making contact with the (e/c) orbs of his fiancé, and a smile etched its way onto his face.

gazing into her eyes, he saw sparkly stars and as the sunlight hit them, he noticed the (pools of honey/deep forests of lush flora, seas of crystals/flock of doves) and could not bring himself to look away, not noticing the blush that began to spread through his lovers face, as she broke the contact, looking back at her ring that was no longer illuminated by the light.

he whined, her eyes being a feature he had fallen in love with all those years ago, a feature that he’d lose himself in everytime he gazed into them.

“look at me love,” fred whines, “i was enjoying the view.”

this only caused the blush to spread through to y/n’s neck, as if an artist was painting and her neck was the canvas.

she opted to snuggle into fred’s neck, hiding her inflamed face from view, leaving small, lingering kisses along his jawline, which elicits a few giggles from the man.

situating his hand on her jaw, he raises her face so that he could get a good look at her, before placing a quick peck on her slightly pouted lips.

“ew, fred!” y/n exclaims, “we both have morning breath.”

fred can only chuckle as he moves to kiss her again, his lips however landing on the apple of her cheek, as she had turned her head away, giggling.

“freddie, i mean it,” she says, in a very giggly state due to having just woke up, “oral hygiene is important.”

“oral is important,” fred utters in his low, raspy morning voice.

“that’s not what i meant you sex addict,” y/n mutters, the same hue of red returning to her face as she nudged at his bare chest.

“not what you said last night love,” the smirk on fred’s face widens, finding joy in teasing the girl.

“i honestly can’t with you,” she mumbles, before turning her back to him.

letting out a chuckle, he wraps his arms around her middle before whispering 'i love you’ in her ear.

“i love you more freddie,” she utters back, feeling small kisses on the nape of her neck, the butterflies erupting in her stomach.

the flowers will be blooming

the leaves will be turning

and snow will be falling

while we’re making love and,

the sun will be shining

the flowers still are blooming

then leaves will turn again

y/n likes to believe that her love with fred is like the seasons.

and to make it that more cliché, the two had begun the journey that is their relationship in march, a month of spring.

like the birth of new flora and fauna, it was the birth of their love story.

through the years, the pair had experienced all the seasons, learning with and about each other, seeing the others highs and lows, experiencing the 'honeymoon phase’, they really were the epitome of high school sweethearts.

like the wondrous season of spring, the (y/h) and gryffindor had found themselves together in each others arms after the lingering gazes and flirtatious conversations. they spent the first few months learning about each other and the relationship itself. they experienced their innocent 'first’s with each other, understanding what it was like to have a significant other. this was the stage where they were ecstatic to have found their person. this was the season of purity, innocence and giddiness.

the blazing season of summer meant constant sunny days and warmth. during these few months, the couple had spent whatever free time they had together. on a humid day, they’d find themselves reading to each other and getting lost in various fantasy books as they journeyed with the characters. on a warm day, they found themselves sneaking to the kitchens before setting up a picnic near the black lake, not too close as to be interrupted by any creatures that inhabited the waters, but close enough to see the ripples of the waves and the glimmer as the light hit them. this was the season of maturity, confidence and adventure.

the crisp season of autumn was the start of a few shifts for the couple. as the relationship continued on, it was the small things like forgetting a date or losing track of time. like any relationship, it came with the giggles and the tears. as the relationship continued on, they began to mature as people, experiencing new feelings that were never known before that moment. jealousy. envy. anxiousness. and so the bickering carried on with what seemed to be no end. until the couple found themselves gazing into each others eyes, finding their way back in each others arms; finding their way back home. this was the season of hardships, desperation and longing.

the chilled season of winter brought the couple closer as friends and as lovers as they’d find themselves snuggled by a fire whilst chatting about whatever came to mind or sneaking down to the kitchens to whip up a much needed, hot drink. during these cold days, it was not rare to see a small, shivering y/n in an oversized sweater that was 3 sizes too big. it was not rare to see a cold fred chase after a giggling y/n, with her arms filled with every sweater that man could have ever owned, their giggles echoing down the halls. this was the season of intimacy, closeness and harmony.

as the years passed and the seasons went on, the love the two shared for one another would never change.

and knowing that was a feeling that was indescribable.

time will be frozen for us

reminiscing their moments together, from the first meeting to the last kiss, was something that the two found themselves doing in every waking moment.

as soon as their eyes meet after awakening from slumber, as soon as they gaze into the eyes of their lover, its as if a movie of their life is played and they go down memory lane of what can be described as their favourite adventure.

these memories acted as a sequel to what they had begun and an epilogue for what’s to come, knowing that their story wasn’t over yet.

they stare into each others eyes, something that happens quite often, as it acts as a promise.

a promise to forever be the others person. because that’s what they were. this was it for them. there was no one else they would want to be with.

as y/n stared lovingly at her husband-to-be and fred stared lovingly at his wife-to-be, they understood that they both had the same thoughts at the time.

as long as they were together, time felt as if it was frozen

still as mf cute as it was when i first wrote it

#y/n #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #spotify

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oliverreedmasterass · 1 year

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Part 6!

As always, a MASSIVE thank you to @starcatcherkiszka for the fic idea!

In case you want something to listen to while you read: ✨Summer of 69 Playlist✨

Words: 4k

Warnings: language, mentions of war/guns

Synopsis: Greta Van Fleet somehow manages to travel back in time to the Summer of 69, during the Woodstock Art and Music festival. You can only imagine what hijinks they’re going to get up to.

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

Jake was having the time of his life. The day seemed to zip past him as he screamed his head off to Country Joe McDonald, Santana, and John Sebastian. He had even started to buddy it up with some of the guys from Sly and the Family Stone, which was something Jake wished he could brag about to every person on the planet. As the sun started to lower over the horizon during Mountain’s set, Jake felt fully content with all the music he had been able to experience over the past two days. He could have done with a bit better food, since the berries and handfuls of nuts were hardly enough to keep his stomach satisfied, but it was a minor setback. He felt entirely in his element, and he was in no rush to get back to the present.

He had been thrown off guard that Josh, Danny, and Sam were already starting to think about returning back to 2023, especially since they had just traveled back in time. There was so much more that Jake needed to explore outside of the Woodstock festival: he wanted to try and find Cream, he wanted to see the Beatles play at Abbey Road, hell, he wanted to travel to San Francisco to see what the Haight was like. Sure, there was a lot going on for him in 2023, but he had stumbled across something magical and he didn’t want to let it go to waste. 2023 would be waiting for him in the future.

He wanted to share every moment with his brothers, but it really disappointed him that they didn’t seem to share the sentiment. Sure, they all had a ball playing on stage but, once the second day started, they had become a bunch of grouches. While he enjoyed his time mingling and sharing guitar tips with people, Josh, Sam, and Danny stood awkwardly off to the side. He caught them whispering amongst themselves a few times which sparked a bit of paranoia for Jake. Usually when they did that, he was in the dog house. Jake couldn’t possibly imagine what he had done but, then again, he usually never knew what he did wrong.

“He’s definitely hiding something from us,” Josh decided as he watched Jake peek over his shoulder at him from the stage and then snap his back head around to continue talking to Freddie Stone.

“If we all gang up on him, he’ll talk,” Sam started to plan. “We just have to make sure he doesn’t talk circles around us or run. I’ll hold him down, you guys smack him if we need to.”

“I’m not smacking Jake,” Danny shook his head. “At least, not yet. I’ll go and talk to him, I have a feeling he’ll share more with me than you two clowns.”

“He’s got a point,” Josh muttered. “Jake actually likes Danny.”

Danny left before he had to hear Sam whine that Jake did too like him, he just showed his affection differently for his brothers. He climbed up the stairs to the stage and placed a gentle hand on Jake’s shoulder, who tensed at the touch.

“What’s up?” Jake tried to sound composed, even though Danny had scared the shit out of him. “This is Freddie Stone,” he added, motioning to the guitarist for Sly and the Family Stone.

“Of course,” Danny gave a wide smile to Freddie and shook his hand.

“I gotta find Sly,” Freddie excused himself. “I’ll be back though, I don’t want to miss The Grateful Dead.”

“You and me both,” Jake said with a laugh. “Is everything okay?” He returned his attention back to Danny. Danny should have come up with a better game plan before approaching Jake: he really didn’t know the best way to accuse him of withholding important information from them about how to travel back to the future.

“Um, yeah,” Danny stumbled on his words. “We’re, uh, just a little bit tired is all.”

“You didn’t get enough sleep?” Jake cocked his head to the side.

“No, uh,” Danny’s eyes darted around for the right words to say. “I mean, we’re kinda tired of being here. Right now. Like, we, or, at least I, want to get back to Nashville. I kinda miss my bed.”

Danny shouldn’t have been surprised that Jake greeted his confession with a massive pout.

“You’re not enjoying yourself?” he asked. Danny nervously rubbed at the back of his neck.

“It’s not that, um, we’re just a bit concerned about how we’re going to get back home, is all. It seems like it’s not bugging you at all, so I was just a little curious what your plan was moving forward.”

Jake attempted to keep a straight face.

“I want to stay through Jimi Hendrix’s set,” he stated flatly. “Beyond that, I’m not quite sure what I want to do yet.”

“So you’re in no rush to get back to the future?”

“Nope.”

“Huh.” Danny looked troubled. He struggled to make eye contact with Jake, instead focusing intently on a tall light tower just off to the side of the stage. “We’re all pretty determined to find a way to get back, I take it you’re not gonna help us?”

Jake pursed his lips together. He hated seeing Danny acting like a nervous wreck, but he also really wanted them all to stay with him while he lived his best life in the 60s. He knew he was being selfish above all else, but he really didn’t want to share with his bandmates that he had found a beam of light that looked pretty promising coming from someone’s van the night before.

Jake had woken up right after Joan Baez finished her set early that morning. He sat upright in the dark and listened to the soft breeze rolling through the trees when it occurred to him that the rain had stopped. Everyone else was sound asleep in the van, but Jake wanted to get out for a stroll down by the stream to try and reflect on their performance, since the adrenaline was replacing his exhaustion again. He carefully exited out of the van and walked a couple hundred yards away, enjoying the damp, humid air on his face and the sounds of people singing around a bonfire in the distance. As he started to relive his memories of Sam opening their set with “Age of Man,” the people in the crowd singing along to “Light My Love,” and the thunderous applause after “The Weight of Dreams,” he saw a bright light in the distance.

“No way,” Jake murmured to himself. As he neared closer to the run down van tucked back in the woods, it became clear that the light was emitting out of the windows. Jake was at first skeptical that the van was just filled with a bunch of hippies who had a lot of good shit, but he could feel a familiar warmth coming from the van that brought him right back to the door in the studio hallway. Even though it was blinding, Jake cupped his hands around his eyes and tried to peer inside the windshield of the van. The only thing inside the van was the searing light. Jake had to slap himself on the cheek a few times to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things again. but no, the light was still there.

“This must be our ticket home,” he whispered to himself. He gazed at the van a bit longer, wondering if he should tell his brothers about it. He had a gut feeling that they would all insist they leave before Jake could even embark on his mission to hunt down Cream. He really didn’t want to do that on his own. So, at 4am, Jake made the executive decision to keep the van a secret until the time felt right. They still had a lot to do.

Back on the stage with Danny, Jake could tell that Danny was staring him down, trying to read his expression. He had left the poor drummer hanging for a while, and he could tell that the anticipation was eating Danny alive.

“I’m not gonna stop you from finding a way back home,” Jake decided, “but I’m not sure why you guys are so concerned about leaving. I mean, aren’t there other things you want to do?”

“The main reason I came here was to make sure you were safe,” Danny reminded Jake. “I didn’t necessarily want to travel back in time to Woodstock.”

“So none of this was worth it?” Jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“That’s not what I said,” Danny corrected him.

----

From behind the stage, Josh and Sam watched as Danny and Jake stood stiffly facing one another, Jake standing on his toes to try to get at eye level with Danny.

“I don’t think it’s going well,” Sam whispered to Josh.

“We should probably go in for backup,” Josh agreed with a sigh.

---

“What are you saying then?” Jake gave Danny a hard look. Danny looked on the brink of silently throwing his hands up in the air and stomping away. That was when Sam and Josh hurried to his side, holding him in place.

“Everything going okay?” Josh watched between the two. Danny looked a bit less tense with Josh and Sam by his side, but Jake on the other hand seemed to be nearly vibrating in place, he was feeling so many emotions at once. They were all ganging up on him, he should have seen it coming. It didn’t matter what he wanted, they were going to make sure they dragged his ass back to 2023 where they would waste their days away in the studio. Jake just couldn’t wrap his head around how none of them could see that they were basically on vacation. A really, really cool vacation.

“I’m staying here,” Jake declared before he could even process what he was saying. Josh studied his twin to try and figure out what was going on with him.

“Like, forever?” he guessed.

“Maybe.” Jake was the one to throw his arms up in the air and stomp away. He wanted to find Carlos Santana and talk with him more about guitar solos instead of getting heckled by his bandmates.

“Someone’s in a grumpy mood,” Sam whistled as Jake powered away from them.

“He was super defensive,” Danny shared between Sam and Josh. Sam felt bad about how upset Danny looked. It seemed like they had missed a lot of what happened between him and Jake. It was a surprise though: usually Jake was nothing but kind and understanding with Danny. Sam couldn’t fathom what Danny could have said to set him off.

“In what way?” Josh tried to prod Danny along.

“He was really unclear about what he wanted to do, and if he’ll help us find a way out of here. It sounds like, if he was given the option, he would want all of us to stay here and leave 2023 behind.”

“I think you mean, 2023 ahead,” Sam corrected Danny. “Sorry,” he apologized after Danny glowered in his direction.

“I feel like he’s forgotten what he’s leaving in 2023,” Josh thought hard. “Do our parents mean nothing to him?”

“He can hang out with them now, they’re just gonna be toddlers,” Sam thought aloud.

“I’ll try to talk to him a bit more,” Josh volunteered. He really hoped that he could get through to his brother in ways that Danny couldn’t.

----

Jake tried his best to enjoy The Grateful Dead’s set, but he was too heated from his confrontation to really take in “Mama Tried” or “Dark Star.” Instead, he was fretting on whether he had made the wrong decision, hiding the portal back to the future from his brothers. Danny made it abundantly clear that he had seen everything he wanted to see in 1969, and was ready to book it back to the comfort of his Nashville home. If Jake were in his shoes, he would have wanted to know where the portal was. But Jake also felt like Danny needed a bit of prodding to really enjoy things. He had to be pushed to take the LSD on the walk, he had to be convinced to play a set, he was just the kind of person who needed a push to live his life. Jake was pretty certain that he would be doing Danny a massive favor if they traveled to London and saw the Beatles perform. He knew Danny would eat that up, and there was no time like the present...or past.

As for Josh and Sam, Jake had no clue what was going on there. Josh had been pretty excited about everything, so Jake was stumped why he would want to leave so quickly. He had a hunch that Sam wanted to abandon ship only so he wouldn’t run into Joan Baez who, in his mind, was sure to interrogate him over why he missed her set.

“Talk about a bunch of ungrateful little asswipes,” he muttered to himself.

“What was that?” John Fogerty asked beside him. Jake blushed; he hadn’t realized he had spoken out loud.

“Nothing,” he was quick to reply. “I just said Jerry’s guitar kinda sounds out of tune.”

“You’re right,” John realized. “Good ear.”

Jake smiled and nodded at the Creedence Clearwater Revival frontman and then returned back to his brooding. He was glad that the stage was entirely dark, so it was hard for anyone to see how deep the creases were in his brow. That included Josh, who approached Jake without realizing just how ticked off he had become since he last saw him.

“What’s crackalackin, broski?” Josh tried to clear the air with his hands up in two shakas. Jake snapped around and gave Josh a look that Josh luckily couldn’t see well. If he could make out how red Jake’s eyes looked, he would have ran to the hills. “Not talking to me? Right on,” Josh continued.

“Why do you want to leave?” Jake cut Josh off, crossing his arms.

“Oh,” Josh seemed thrown off by Jake’s forwardness. “Well, I mean, I’d be more than happy to stick around for a bit longer. I just, ah, don’t want to get drafted.”

“You think you’re gonna get drafted?” Jake’s voice rose. He didn’t actually know if that was a genuine concern they should all have but, in that moment, he wanted to believe that it was a ridiculous excuse.

“I can’t go to ‘Nam, not after reading The Things They Carried.,” Josh explained. “ I won’t deal with that, Jake.”

“That was a fictional book,” Jake stared at his brother. “And you can just lie and say you’re color blind.”

“I don’t think it works like that,” Josh argued. “Plus, how would I fake being color blind?”

“How can you really prove that someone is color blind?” Jake asked back. Josh tsked; Jake did have a point.

“I just want you to have a good time here,” Jake’s voice softened for a brief moment. “I don’t understand why you can’t slow down and enjoy everything.”

“I did that yesterday,” Josh put a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Now I need to start thinking ahead. Can you imagine Sam with a gun?”

“Just, drop Vietnam, okay?” Jake asked. Even if he really wasn’t paying an ounce of attention to The Grateful Dead’s set, it was really killing the mood.

“Jake,” Josh tried to find his eyes in the dark. “I know you about as well as I know myself. And I know that you know how to get out of here.”

Dammit, Jake thought to himself. He should have known it was impossible to keep secrets from Josh. They really did have some kind of telepathy that at times could be a blessing but, more often than not, felt like a curse to Jake. He really didn’t want to fess up, but he also knew that there was no talking himself out of it either. So much for making sure Josh, Danny, and Sam all got to enjoy their time in 1969.

“There’s a bus,” Jake’s voice felt disconnected from his body. “It’s out in the woods near the stream, probably about a half a mile away from where Dave’s van is parked. I found it last night while taking a walk when you were all asleep. I’m not positive that it will take you back to 2023, but it’s got light flooding out of it that looks exactly like what was coming out of the door.”

“There we go,” Josh patted Jake on the back. “Was that so hard?”

Jake wanted to roundhouse kick Josh in the head for his condescending tone, but he grit his teeth instead.

“Why hide that from us, Jake?” Josh had to ask. He was really disappointed in his brother. Danny was bound to get an ulcer the size of a tic tac if they stayed in 1969 one more day. Jake shrugged and then realized that he had to talk since Josh couldn’t see him in the dark.

“It was stupid,” he admitted. “I just thought we’d be better off enjoying our time here. I knew you all would book it the moment you knew there was a way to escape.”

“How about this,” Josh proposed. “You take us to the van, just so we can make sure the portal is still there, and then I’ll stay here with you until you want to come back? I can’t say what Sam and Danny will want to do, but I won’t leave your side.”

Jake couldn’t form the right words to tell Josh how much that meant to him. Having Josh with him was really all that he needed.

“Sounds like a plan,” was the best he could say. He felt Josh put a hand on his shoulder and give it a few taps before steering him off the stage. They met Sam and Danny at the bottom of the steps, and Danny once more was trying to avoid eye contact with Jake. “I’m really sorry,” Jake’s voice cracked a bit as he stared down at his friend. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that, it was really uncool of me.”

“You can say that again,” Sam interjected before Danny could accept Jake’s apology. Danny had told him everything that had gone down between him and Jake at the side stage and, with that information fresh, Sam felt livid. Danny held a hand up to keep Sam from getting into a yelling match with Jake and nodded towards the guitarist.

“I accept your apology.”

“Jake knows how to get out of here,” Josh announced.

“I knew it!” Sam couldn’t help but shout, which caused Jake to wince. He felt like Sam was seconds away from throwing a fist at his face. It wouldn’t matter though; what hurt more was the stare Danny was giving Jake. He looked as if he had just heard that Jake ran over his dog and then put the car in reverse to do it again.

“It’s a recent development,” Jake lied to try and lessen the hurt.

“No it’s not,” Josh clarified. “Just own up that you did something shitty, Jake.”

“Fine,” Jake sighed. “I’m sorry for being a shitty person.”

“Apology maybe accepted,” Danny said under his breath.

“I’ll take you there,” Jake decided. He mostly wanted to break out of the circle they had formed: he hated that all of their judgmental eyes were glued to him. He was a lot more at ease walking a few paces ahead of them, towards the stream. Sure, he could hear Sam calling him an asshole behind his back, but that was to be expected. As the youngest sibling, it was Sam’s obligation to be the meanest to Jake.

Jake wasn’t sure if he felt relieved or disappointed that the light was still flooding out of the van when they approached it.

“It’s kinda crazy that no one else has found this,” Josh mused as he walked past Jake to study the car.

“They probably did, they were just tripping balls so they didn’t realize the light was actually real,” Danny said, joining Josh’s side.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I want to get back to my self-driving car and drink a big old bottle of 21st century Corona,” Sam announced. Jake wanted to protest, but he silently watched as Sam made his way to the van’s side door and reached to tug it open.

“I’m gonna stay with Jake,” Josh spoke up before Sam could leave. “Us being here means a lot to him, even if we could be drafted into the US military.”

“I still don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Jake protested.

“It’s your call, you can do whatever you want, but you are going to miss some pretty good acts,” Josh looked between Sam and Danny. “Joe Cocker, The Band, and Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young are all playing tomorrow.”

“And Jimi Hendrix,” Jake added.

“And Jimi Hendrix,” Josh nodded.

Danny and Sam stood by the car door and studied each other.

“It was pretty cool to see Santana earlier,” Danny admitted.

Sam gave one more look at the door handle and then turned away. “I do like Crosby et al.”

“How about a compromise,” Danny took up the role of the moderator, as always, moving back towards Jake and Josh. Jake motioned for him to give his proposition. “We stay for the last day, and then take off Monday morning. And that means all of us.”

Jake thought it over. He still thought they were crazy to not want to explore more around 1969, but he also was starting to understand why they wanted to get back to the future. Just thinking about the fact that they would be on the grounds for another 24 hours made Jake’s stomach groan in protest. A guy could only have so many cashews in a day.

“Agreed,” he said, extending a hand for Danny to shake. Danny grasped it and pumped their arms up and down once. “Pleasure doing business with you,” Jake couldn’t help but joke.

“I want to shake on it too,” Sam came back to Jake’s side.

“I know you spit in your hand,” Jake shook his head at his younger sibling.

“Damn,” Sam cursed. He had been caught red-handed.

The sound of Creedence Clearwater Revival opening their set captured all of their attention. Jake tapped his tennis shoe in the mud to “Born on the Bayou” and could hear Josh humming along as well.

“Well,” he said, “should we head back into the crowd?”

“If I remember from my dad’s concert DVD, we’ve got a long night ahead of us,” Danny shared. “We’d better find a spot where we can get comfy.”

“I want to find the guy with the bongos from earlier,” Josh stated. “He was fun.”

“Good luck finding him,” Danny snorted.

“Just because you said that, I am gonna find him,” Josh sounded determined. Danny threw back his head and groaned at Josh’s stubbornness.

“Just enjoy the music,” Jake shook his head at Josh. “The bongo guy will find you if you’re really meant to cross paths.”

“That’s beautiful, Jakey,” Josh wiped a fake tear from his eye.

“Come on,” Sam motioned for them to join him as he moved back towards the stage. “I don’t want to miss ‘Green River.’”

“Is that Joan Baez?” Jake couldn’t help but call out, pointing over Sam’s head. Without a moment’s hesitation, Sam let out a mouse-like squeak and dove behind a tree, landing in the grass with a thud.

“Is she gone?” Sam’s voice was muffled since his face was pressed into the soil.

“He’s just messing with you, Sam,” Danny called to him.

Sam pushed himself back upright, spitting out some grass in the process, and glared at Jake while he brushed the foliage off of his shirt.

“You’re on thin ice, pal,” he tried to sound as intimidating as possible. Jake could only laugh in response to his younger brother’s threat. He was bound to use the Joan Baez prank on him many more times over the course of the night. Sam was going to regret ever calling him an asshole behind his back.

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #gvf fanfic #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fanfiction #woodstock #sly and the family stone #carlos santana #joan baez #creedence clearwater revival #john fogerty #the grateful dead

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legoarsonist · 4 months

Text

okok so late night thoughts for that medieval au concept: how to adapt glitchtrap.

now of course, you'd think that this lad would be difficult to transfer over to a medieval setting, after all glitchtrap's what remains of afton transferred into a digital realm, the purple lad's attempt to escape from an eternal punishment by golden freddy.

however, that's just it. there's no need for the format to be digital, it just needs to be his method of escape. a method which he can pour his agony/remnant into something and then hide within that until it gets added to something else.

and of course, what's the current, most powerful way of storing information in the medieval era? books.

Somewhere within the remains of a burnt, aged keep, there lies a set of rusted, aged armor. What was once a bright gold covered with the moss of the many ages passed, the bones of a king within turned to dust with the flames of the time. This armor is kneeling to the ground. At first thought to have been in prayer, is actually protecting something with it's body. A book.

Because of the circumstances it was found in, it's thought to be an important story. At least important enough to be protected with this knight's last breaths. So, it gets sent to scribes for archival and preservation.

what the scribes find is that the inside of the book is black. Not because of soot or flame, but because somebody had written so much into it that they had went over their writing hundreds upon hundreds of times. Filling each and every corner and part of the book with words of hate.

And yet, as the scribes try to archive what the book says, it starts to change. Words on copies start moving about, they change only slightly at first. Maybe a period moves around, or a letter d gets a secondary line on it's opposite side, but whatever is within this book is infectious. the scribe Jeremias cannot stop himself from writing out more words from this book, that is of course whenever it isn't writing itself.

The only thing he can do to stop himself is to remove his own life from the equation, in a vain attempt to stop the spread of this disease of hate.

With his death, the book gets split apart by another, hidden in her own writings and texts for another to find and hopefully eliminate that which possesses the book.

A pity then, that it was able to modify her words, twist them so that they'd work in his favor instead.

#anon's medieval fnaf au #dunno how to tag it but man #love writing sometimes #also shoutouts to bunnye #that vanny helm they did is a serious motivator for me to brainrot abt this stuff x3

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stuckinuniformdevelopment · 8 months

Text

Ever since Teddy learned that the Glornists had it out for Bert the first thing he did whenever he got out from work was check his texts during his walk to the food court. All on the off-chance that he got in a tight enough spot to actually ask for help.

If anyone texted him at all it was either Freddy or Bert with what he swore was a 80% chance of being a meme. This time, however, it was actually important.

Teddy's eye widened as he read Revenard Mike's urgent text and he texted back while continuing to walk. With no time to waste he elected to take a few shortcuts through the vents.

Soon he had reached the vent next to level I4's elevator, which was thankfully located above solid ground instead of the walkway. Or... somewhere without a floor at all.

Not that it ended up mattering with guards in the way. He mentally cursed to himself before crawling around to the observatory's vent.

He had started to check if Revenard Mike was paying attention before remembering how much effort he'd put into hiding his combat abilities for nothing. Screw it. That damned stalker probably already knew anyways.

Still, Teddy slowly closed the vent to avoid clanging and slid completely down the wall instead of dropping halfway just in case. Then he softly walked to the door before turning to head towards Revenard Mike as if he entered through there.

"What happened?"

@bishop-percival

#bishoppercival #Revenard Mike #long post

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obsessivelollipoplalala · 1 year

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I'm curious, what do you think about David Minns and his relationship with Freddie? It's always been difficult to figure out for me

It is difficult because we never heard Freddie's side of the story and David was so bitter in his book, and as another user (again, I think it was rushingheadlong) pointed out, it's hard to take David at his word when he got a lot of stuff factually wrong about Queen, too. He's like an unreliable narrator, imo. I'll get the less controversial takes out of the way. It was Freddie's first real relationship with a man, so it was important. It seems like Freddie did love David at some point and it probably felt good for him to finally be with a man. With that said, Freddie was still with Mary for the first year or so of their relationship, which obviously put a lot of strain on them. I understand why David would get fed up with their relationship being hidden and his boyfriend still having a beard...and I understand why Freddie still felt the need to hide. He was the face of a rock band in the 1970s with growing global success. He didn't want the band to be impacted by his sexuality. He knew his parents would never accept him. He was likely afraid to break off the longest relationship he ever had, the one with Mary, even though he was ultimately unhappy with her, because Freddie had a really hard time cutting ties with people in general.

David also talked about Freddie facing guilt over being gay, feeling like he was letting his family and his religion down. He said Freddie would take out his struggles with his sexuality and family on him in arguments, which I can picture. Since portraying Freddie as a gay man struggling immensely with his sexuality was/is not at all a popular, money-making take, I'm more inclined to believe this.

Now, let's get to the ugly stuff. There were the arguments I just mentioned, and like I said, I understand why it would be taxing on David to be in that situation. It seems like neither man was really mentally ready to be in a monogamous, stable relationship tbh, and neither had a model for what a healthy relationship between men was supposed to look like. Freddie fell for Joe and wanted to have his cake and eat it, too, by dating Joe and David, but he didn't ask for either man's consent beforehand lmao, so they were understandably very pissed. I think Freddie was...kind of emotionally unstable when it came to romance when he first came out. He'd spent his entire life, 30 years, deeply closeted at that point, and when he finally let himself break free, he kind of needed a period to explode (hello, "Don't Stop Me Now"). He needed to find himself as a gay man and have a lot of sex with men tbh--which is great! But he also wanted a committed, loving relationship, and to paraphrase Freddie, you can't have that when you're fucking half the world (again, those are his words lol. He was so funny sometimes). So, I understand why Freddie acted the way he did, but he quite simply wasn't ready for the kind of relationship he dreamed of tbh and I don't blame David for not wanting Freddie to cheat on him, of course.

But, here's the controversial part: Freddie's first relationship with a man was abusive.

David admitted to hitting him first, to being the one to start physical violence in their relationship. I honestly really hate when people say Freddie and David's relationship was mutually bad, because emotionally, yes, perhaps, but they were not equally wrong. David threw the first blow, and that fundamentally changes a relationship forever, and it changes how you're going to react to what that other person does. It makes a person more on edge when the possibility that their partner will turn around and hit them isn't a scary fantasy anymore. Fighting back against someone who hit you is not "mutual abuse", either. There was some story in the book where David said he started a physical fight with Freddie, but Freddie ended it, if you know what I mean. Like...idk, maybe I've read too much Why Does He Do That? by Lundy Bancroft, but maybe David shouldn't have started fucking hitting his boyfriend first if he didn't want Freddie to fight back! There was always that option!

And again with us not knowing Freddie's side--Minns said Freddie didn't even care when he was in the hospital for intentionally trying to overdose, and David Evans said Freddie called up to ask about it, but Evans more or less responded like, "wtf do you care? You have Joe." So Freddie did reach out, but was pretty much met with scorn, and this happened after a pattern of abuse from David so...yeah, you can see why Freddie would break up with him then and just want to be finished with him. I'm not saying David tried to kill himself to further emotionally abuse Freddie (though suicide threats are an emotional abuse tactic experienced by friends of mine) because he did genuinely seem like a troubled person. I'm saying that things probably looked very different from Freddie's perspective.

And despite it all...Freddie reached out to David again in 1986 simply because he wanted to be friends again. David even said Freddie was nothing but kind to him after that. Freddie had done a lot of healing by then and had Jim. But I also think David said something about how he thought he could've "saved" Freddie in his book? Which is just nonsense for so many reasons, I don't even have the strength to get into them right now lol.

But yeah like, everyone talks about how Bill was abusive towards Freddie, but with David, it's suddenly "complicated"? No, it isn't, really. Freddie verbally fighting with David or even cheating with Joe didn't mean he deserved to be hit. I think it's worthwhile to think about the long-term impact it had on Freddie's ability to form long-lasting relationships with men and have healthy coping mechanisms, when the first real man he ever loved turned around and hit him. It's not that Freddie never did anything wrong, it's that this shit has a fucking impact on people and I don't think it's a stretch to trace some of his unhealthy behavior in relationships back to at least being solidified by that first experience with a same sex relationship.

So...yeah. The whole thing was one great, big mess, in my view, even if there was genuine love at some point. Given how many issues Freddie had to work out, I don't think it ever would have worked tbh, but David's behavior certainly did not help and I do not like him.

#here's a sizzling hot take #abuse //#drug mention /#freddie mercury #replies #Anonymous

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 years

Note

1) Sure! I can wait for a bit! I have a FNF x TF2 drawing if you want to see it.

2) Ok, so it's a FNAF SB fanfic, a Gender Neutral Reader x Gregory. Reader is older than Gregory and acts like a brother like figure to him. They are helping him try to escape with Glamrock Freddy against Vanessa. Eventually, while searching for a way out, Vanessa finds Gregory and just before she does her scary jumpscare, Y/N tackles her and screams at Gregory to run, which he does after a second time as Y/N fights off Vanessa. (She's like "Gotch-" before she gets tackled by them).

After a bit of fight, Vanessa uses her flashlight to knock them out, which she does after a couple of hits on their head. When Reader wakes up, they find out they are binded with rope behind their back for their hands, and same for their feet.

Vanessa notices that and smirks at them, giving them a condescending tone to them like "Not so tough now, are you?". She then approaches them and tells them to not bother trying to get free, since she will come back with Gregory to lock them in another place more secured. She then leaves and locks the door, worrying Reader about Gregory, as they look around to get out of here, as this fanfic ends.

What do you think? If you like it, do you want to replace my Jevil Request with this?

3) Considering Deltarune is not in the list, that's why you haven't started on it yet? If so, maybe it's a good idea to replace it with my Gender Neutral Reader x Gregory?

1) I'm not rly into FNF nor TF2 anymore :v

2) Yeah! I love this idea and sorry its taken so long to get to it

3) Imma keep the Jevil request so don't worry ^^

..............

“Come on, kid! I don’t have all night!”

Vanessa’s agitated voice rang out in the mall as you and Gregory hid somewhere nearby. You could hear her footsteps clack against the checkered tiles, passing right by you.

“Ugh, we have to move at some point.” He hissed. “Freddy needs to be charged!”

“You can’t just point him to where that recharge station is?” You pointed to his Fazwatch.

“No, but I wish it was that easy..”

Unfortunately you didn’t get one, so you had to trust whatever Gregory was seeing on his--like the paths of the security bots or the Glamrocks roaming about.

He was a smart kid, but could also be reckless.

A reckless little brother, that is.

So you decided to stick with him and make sure he didn’t get himself killed. He insisted he was fine on his own, though he gave in after Freddy intervened and said you’d be of great help.

Now you two were hiding from the only nightguard on-duty. But you weren’t entirely sure why he was scared of her.

Maybe he doesn’t trust authorities or adults.

You didn’t either considering she was doing a shitty job at finding lost kids. That’s literally part of their job, isn’t it?

To see her yelling and expecting you to pop out right in front of her almost made you laugh, but you kept quiet as she left the area.

“Okay, I think we can make a break for it-”

“Then let’s go!”

“Wait!!”

As Gregory sprinted out of hiding and made a mad-dash for the charging station, he ended up bumping into a Security Bot that appeared seemingly out of nowhere. It sounded an alarm, waving its hand around.

You jumped up, but saw Vanessa immediately running towards him.

“Gotcha! No more games, Greg-”

Before she could grab him, she was tackled by an unseen force and fell to the ground. The flashlight was swiftly knocked out of her hands, rolling a few feet away from both of you.

“Wh-What the hell?!! Another kid!? Get off me!” She snapped upon realizing her attacker was you.

“Not a chance, lady. Gregory, get out of here! RUN!!” You shouted at the shocked boy. “GO! NOW!!”

Eventually his legs moved as he fled the area, not caring about the recharge station anymore. He’ll find one elsewhere. Getting somewhere she couldn’t find him was more important right now.

When he was out of sight, you turned back to Vanessa-

Just in time to see her grab the flashlight and strike you not once.

But twice.

The second hit immediately knocked you out cold.

Huffing, she sat up as you tumbled to the floor. And for a moment she checked her flashlight.

“Huh..no blood. Good.”

.........

Slowly but surely you regained your senses, feeling your head practically pounding.

Groaning, you reached up to hold it, but then you realized that wasn’t possible.

Because your hands were tied-up.

‘Wait...where am I?’ Looking down, you realized your ankles were tied with rope as well, and you were just sitting in the middle of some room.

It looked like a lost and found section.

But as your memory came back, you started to think of Gregory.

Oh god. Gregory.

Where was he? How long were you here?!

He could be in serious danger-

“As if I didn’t have a bad hair day already....oh, you’re awake.”

Hearing the familiar voice, you scowled at Vanessa as she entered the room, adjusting her ponytail before taking out her flashlight. She shined it directly in your face, forcing you to put your hands up in a pathetic attempt to shield your eyes.

“Not so tough now, huh?” She smirked. “I’ll admit you had some guts taking me down like that. But attacking security personnel is a serious crime, you know.”

“Well..you don’t look like trustworthy security personnel to begin with.” You huffed in anger.

“Why? Is that what Gregory told you?”

“He doesn’t trust you. I don’t know why but..if this is how you treat lost kids, then I wouldn’t either.”

“Oh well, trust me or don’t. I don’t care. I’m just trying to keep you kids safe. So you’re going to wait right here in lost and found while I hunt down your little friend.” She told you, heading back to the door. “But he’s a crafty little shit so I’ll be locking you both somewhere more secure once I find him.”

“Good luck, Officer.” You mocked. “And sorry if I messed up your oh-so-perfect hair. Heard you bitching about that on your way here.”

All she did was give you an annoyed glare before storming out of the room and locking the door behind her.

Now you were alone again, your head pounding less as you looked around. The ropes were feeling uncomfortably tight now, panic rising in your throat at the thought of something terrible happening to Gregory.

You wish you had some way to contact him, or Freddy even.

But as you searched for a way out of this mess, you could only hope they were reunited and safe somewhere.

Who knows? Maybe they were looking for you right now.

Just maybe...

#clanask #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnaf sb x reader #fnaf security breach x reader #fnaf gregory #fnaf vanessa #teen reader #platonic

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padfoot-and-prongsie · 3 years

Text

Is That My Bra? || Fred Weasley

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 1.9k

Requested: No

Summary: Things get heated when Fred steals your favorite bra from your room

Warnings: Swearing

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever created it

A/N: This is my first piece of writing here, please let me know what you think! I hope y'all like it :)

PLEASE DO NOT COPY OR STEAL MY WORK. REBLOGS ARE JUST FINE :)

George walked back to the small circle of Lee and Fred, a triumphant look on his face. Proudly he lifted up his left pant leg, showing his now clean shaven leg.

“Done,” George declared, causing Lee and Fred to both fall back in laughter.

“Nice job Georgie,” Fred said, after composing himself. “You wait until Angelina sees that.”

George grinned. “They’re only going to make her fancy me more.”

Lee snorted at George’s comment, finding the shaven legs more horrifying than attractive. “Get on with it George, it’s your turn.”

George looked between the two of them, before he landed on Fred. “Freddie my boy, dare or dare?”

The three had originally been playing truth or dare, but after nobody picking truth for seven rounds, they had changed the name to dare or dare. For the last forty-five minutes, the three of them had been sent on a wide range of tasks, from streaking through the charms corridor (Lee got a weeks worth of detention for that) to making a dirty comment in the ear of an unsuspecting Hufflepuff.

Fred pretended to think. “Hmm, I think I’ll go with dare.”

George looked around the common room, trying to come with a suitable dare for his brother.

His eyes landed on you, who was just making your way down the stairs from the girls dormitories. Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet, were with you, and the three of you were laughing at a joke Alicia had said.

You turned, feeling someone’s eyes on you and sent George a look. He waved back wildly, and you raised an eyebrow, waving back to him.

You followed the girls out of the common room, heading towards the kitchens for an evening snack.

George turned back to the two boys with a wide grin on his face. “I dare you Fred to steal Y/N’s bra.”

Lee busted out laughing once more as Fred turned to George. “Easy,” he replied confidently, getting up from the circle.

A smirk played on his lips as he made his way towards the stairs up to the girls dormitories. He was only six steps up when the stairs flattened out, producing a slide that sent Fred tumbling back down into the common room.

George bent over laughing at his brother, who was now splayed across the floor and had attracted the attention of the few people present in the room.

“Jackass,” Fred muttered, picking himself up. “You knew that was going to happen.”

“I didn’t, I swear,” George defended between laughs.

Fred continued to glower, not buying it. “Give me a new dare, I can’t do this one.”

George’s laughter faded, his expression turning to one of thought as he tried to find a way around the stairs.

“We could go get your broom,” Lee suggested.

Fred nodded. “That could-” He let out a small yelp as he felt his feet leave the ground.

Looking down, he saw that he was now hovering six inches in the air and his brother was pointing his wand at home in concentration.

Lee let out a whoop of excitement as George lifted him up the steps.

Fred now stood at the top of the stairs, rubbing his head from where George had “accidently” bumped him into the wall.

“Go get the bra!” George yelled, causing a third year to fix the three with a horrified expression.

Fred walked down the narrow hallway, trying to locate your dormitory. After finding the right one, he pushed open the door, pausing for a moment to take in the sheer amount of clothes that littered the floor. He found your bed easily by the large Holyhead Harpies blanket that was stretched across the top. He himself had given it to you for your birthday last year.

Fred’s eyes landed on your trunk and a large smirk filled his face. Resting on top was a set of clothes, and beneath the shirt he could see the straps of a lacie red bra.

Fred slid down the stairs not three minutes later, sitting back down in the circle and triumphantly showing the boys your bra.

George applauded loudly, but immediately stopped when he caught sight of you coming back though the portrait hole with Alicia and Angelina, all three of you balancing numerous sweet treats in your arms.

“Shit,” George hissed, “it’s Y/N.”

Fred’s eyes widened and he quickly shoved your bra into his book bag that laid beside him, filled with the homework he had yet to do.

You walk past without a second glance though, heading up to your dorm.

The following morning you stood in your dorm, running late for breakfast as you hastily flipped through the clothes in your trunk.

“Are you okay?” Alicia asked, already dressed for the day.

“Yeah,” you replied absently, again rechecking all your clothes. “I just can’t seem to find my bra. Did one of you two take it? It’s the red one.”

Angelina snorted. “You know red’s not my color,” she stated, leaning over your shoulder to look in your trunk. “Just wear something else.”

You pursed your lips. “I picked this one out because it goes with my top for the party tonight, I have to find it!”

“You mean the top you’re going to wear for Fred?” Angelina asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

You rolled your eyes. “No you daft doxie!” You exclaimed, giving your best friend a playful shove. “You and I both know that’s a load of horse crap.”

Angelina only winked back, causing you to shove her again.

Annoyed at your bad luck, you glared at your clothes once more. You knew you had set it out just last night so you could find it the next morning. Now where had it gone?

After three more searches through your trunk, which only seemed to make it messier and more difficult to look through, you settled for a black sports bra instead, not your favorite but it would have to do.

After morning classes you found yourself running late to lunch after going back up to your dorm to grab the transfiguration essay you had forgotten to put in your bag that morning. Hustling down the stairs, your stomach grumbled, reminding you that you had missed breakfast.

Your pace quickened, rounding the corner into the charms corridor where you immediately crashed into an unsuspecting student.

“Shit,” you said, as you rather ungracefully stumbled back. Losing your footing, you landed on the floor painfully.

“Damn I’m sorry Y/N,” someone said, and you looked up to see Fred sprawled across the floor across from you, his twin not too far away, trying to hide his snickers.

“Don’t-”

You had barely started speaking when your eyes landed on Fred’s bag, which had slid across the floor in the impact. Your attention was drawn to the red lacie strap which was peeking out from inside.

The twins followed your gaze, Fred’s face turning into one of surprise as he had completely forgotten that he hadn’t taken your bra out of his bag last night, whilst George doubled over in a silent laughter.

“Is that my bra?” you asked bluntly, turning to stare at Fred.

“I best be going,” George said, giving you two a little waive, “have fun with that brother.”

You turned to Fred again. “Is that my bra?” you repeated.

Fred’s look of shock twisted into a smirk. “Quite possibly love.”

“How- What-” you struggled to find the right words. Finally you resorted to just saying. “You took that from my room.”

Fred nodded. “Yup, sounds about right.”

You turned to look at your bra once more, and Fred, sensing what you were going to do, dove for it just as you did. He was far closer, reaching it first though you landed on top of him just seconds later, your hand trying to grip the undergarment.

“Give it to me,” you hissed, as he held it behind his head and out of your reach.

Fred looked up at you, from where he was positioned underneath, his smirk only widening. “You know I hadn’t pegged you as a top, Y/N,” he said cheekily. “We might have some control issues later.”

You glared down at him, but he only winked back.

“Shut the hell up and give me the damn bra,” you snapped, lunging forward.

Fred firmly placed his free hand on your waist, holding you back.

“You’ll need to do better than that L/N,” he taunted.

You were now royally pissed off and desperately wanted to hex that smirk right off his face. You look back to where your bag had fallen several yards back, judging how fast you could reach your wand.

“Don’t bother love,” Fred said, reading your thoughts. “I won’t let you get that far.” He squeezed your hips for good measure.

“Now do tell me,” he asked lazily, his hand that was on your waist beginning to slide up your shirt. “Why is this particular bra so important?”

You slapped his hand, but that only seemed to provoke him more as his thumb was now beginning to trace circles on your stomach. Quickly, you glanced down the hall to make sure it was empty, thank Merlin it was lunch. You and Fred were still in a rather compromising position, something he seemed to indicate wouldn’t change anytime soon. Normally you would have been rather content with this too, but currently you were far too focused on retrieving your stolen bra and the redhead beneath you wasn’t doing anything to lessen your annoyance.

“I need it for the party tonight,” you finally grumbled.

Fred pretended to think. “That is a rather convincing argument, you should have started with that earlier. I as much as the next guy would be quite curious of this outfit.”

You flushed red, picturing the rather see through top in your head.

Fred smirked at your discomfort, his hand rising up your back. With no warning, he pulled you down, causing you to let out a gasp when your face reached a mere few inches from his.

“I am very curious of this outfit,” he repeated, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

You felt your heart rate quicken. His warm breath hit your face and you struggled not to sigh. You’re still angry at him, you tried to remind yourself.

Fred’s hand that was slithering up your back had now reached your bra and he let out a huff of annoyance. “Damn, sports bra, you’re killing me L/N.”

This time you were the one who smirked. “I would have been wearing that bra if you hadn’t taken it.”

“Now where would we be if I had done that?” Fred asked quietly, before pressing his lips against yours.

Almost instantly you kissed him back, your mouths moving together in sync. You felt Fred smirk against your mouth before he flipped you, causing you to let out a small yelp as you found yourself now looking up at him.

“I’m always on top,” he whispered huskily, crashing his mouth against yours once more.

Your hands tangled themselves into his hair, pulling him closer to you. His landed on your body, dropping your now forgotten bra on the floor. They traced your skin, running up your stomach and, despite Fred’s complaints, still managing to get beneath your bra.

“Fred,” you muttered against his mouth. “Can I have my bra back?”

“Only if I get to be the one to take it off you tonight.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred x wesley #fred x y/n #fred weasley #fred and goerge weasley #fred weasly x reader #fred and george #weasley family #weasly twins #hp fanfic #harry potter #fanfic

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sunrisefairy · 3 years

Text

red cheeks and sunsets

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: George has been pining over Y/N for far too long and Fred decides to give his twin a little push.

A/N: I love reading about Georgie so I thought I’d get back into writing and write a really fluffy oneshot about my fav. I hope you like it, I’m a bit rusty but if you wanna request anything please do :)) love you all

“Seriously George, do you realise how creepy you’re being right now. You’ve been staring at the poor gal for 10 minutes.” Fred’s voice brings George out of his trance, okay it might have been the carrot Fred threw which hit George right in the forehead.

“I’m not staring” George mumbles, tearing his eyes away from Y/N reluctantly and at his dinner.

“No of course you’re not” the other twin states with an eye roll.

George can’t help it you see; the staring, the daydreaming, the embarrassing stuttering and nerves he feels whenever she is near or even in the same room as him. The redhead has had an immense crush on Y/N L/N for a year, too scared to say or do anything about it. No that he hasn’t tried to let her know about his feelings but each time he’s stood in front of her he is unable to speak and forgets everything prior to that moment, it’s a wonder he hasn’t passed out during his attempts. As soon as George looks into her eyes, those breath-taking, incredible eyes, nothing else registers in his brain. How can one be expected to think when looking as something so beautiful?

So, George decides it is easier to just admire from afar, to try and salvage whatever is left of his ego. He tells himself he’s fine with Y/N not knowing, he’s okay with sending shy smiles her way and imagining how it would feel to wrap his arms around the girl and kiss those perfect lips. He doesn’t think his heart could take the rejecting because at least this way he can pretend Y/N likes him back.

Fred groans, “mate just tell her” George interrupts him with a laugh. “No I’m serious, just walk up to her and say ‘Y/N I like you’, 4 words. That’s it.”

George stares down at his plate pushing food around with his fork and sighs “Fred, it’s not like I haven’t tried. I end up sounding like a stuttering idiot cos I can’t get the words out; I can’t get any words out. Plus, there’s no way she likes me back, I mean look at her” George’s eyes find their way back to Y/N, who is sitting with her friends, laughing “why in the world would she like someone like me, she’s stunning”

“Yeah you’re right, she’s a straight 10 and you’re a 6 at best” Fred answers with a chuckle.

George gives his twin a little shove with his shoulder, “thanks man, I appreciate the support.”

~~~

Fred has had enough of George’s pining; he can’t seem to get much out of George if Y/N is around. It’s like George gets tunnel vision and all he sees is Y/N and everything else around him fades away. Fred does think its sweet seeing how infatuated his twin is with the girl, he just wishes George would muster up the courage to tell Y/N how he feels. Maybe then George will be able help with the planning of some new pranks.

Fred and George are walking down the hall back to the common room one night when a familiar H/C haired girl turns the corner and walks their way.

George almost trips when he sees her but Fred nudges him upright.

“Hey boys,” Y/N smiles at them, eyes landing on George “hey George.”

Fred smirks, hearing that George got a second greeting, hoping he’ll at least say something.

Y/N is still staring at George hoping for a reply, George doesn’t seem to say much around her. She isn’t sure why. Yeah George is the more ‘quieter’ one of the duo but he still has an outgoing and loud personality. A few times Y/N has caught herself admiring George and a smile would always creep onto her face seeing him joking and laughing with his friends.

“H-hey” George all but whispers back, his cheeks feel like they are on fire and that his whole body might combust under Y/N’s gaze.

Fred wraps his lanky arm around George’s shoulder “Hello dear Y/N, you look very beautiful this fine afternoon, don’t you think Georgie?”

George almost chokes at Fred’s comment “Er- I guess so, I mean-um, y-yeah you do.”

If George wasn’t staring at the floor silently hoping a hole would appear and swallow him up, he might have seen Y/N’s face turn a light tint of pink.

“Oh, well thank you” Y/N giggles, “I guess I should get going. It was nice to see you both, bye George” Y/N waves and continues down the hall with a small skip in her step.

As soon as Y/N is around the corner, George groans into his hands, why is it so difficult for him to form sentences around her.

Fred just laughs, “you truly have it bad bud, but don’t worry, Freddie is here to help.”

George just groans louder; he isn’t sure Fred will be much help.

~~~

George finds himself running up to the astronomy tower later that week, Fred had left a note on his pillow saying to meet him ASAP so they can set up for a prank, it sounded pretty urgent, the note stated if he was even a minute late Fred would spill his secrets to Y/N. So, here George was racing through the halls to try and make it there on time, everyone was at dinner, so the halls were pretty empty which worked in George’s favour. Out of breath, George finally makes it to the astronomy tower stairs, taking 2 steps at a time he jogs up.

“Bloody hell Fred, I swear you just wanna make me-“Georges words disappear into the air as he reaches the top of the stairs.

Y/N is leaning against the railing staring out at the sunset, she turns her head to face George.

“Sorry to disappoint Georgie, but I’m not Fred” she giggles.

Godric, George thinks her giggle is the most magical sound in the world, he’d do anything to hear it again.

“S’ okay…” George trails off, he’s going to kill Fred later.

They stand in silence for a few moments, “Isn’t the sky so beautiful tonight?” Y/N breathes turning to look at the orange painted sky.

George can’t help but stare at this absolute goddess in front of him, the fiery sunset glows against Y/N’s face, he takes a small step closer to her hoping to memorise the way the sun beams against her soft skin. He wonders what it would feel like to caress her cheek, surely all his troubles would wash away the moment he has her delicate face in his hands. He glances down at her lips, he wishes he could just grab her face and kiss her right here, somehow try and show her how much she means to him.

George doesn’t realise words have left his mouth until it’s too late “Merlin, you are beautiful.” Georges eyes widen, did he actually just say that?

Y/N, surprised, turns to face him and it’s like a faucet in his brain has been turned on and he can’t stop the words coming out of his mouth, everything he’s ever wanted to say to Y/N is pouring out before he can control himself.

“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. Not that its not true! Because it is, you’re beautiful, you’re amazing actually. The most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. So beautiful in fact, you make me forget how to breath actually. Whenever I’m around you, I get all nervous and don’t know what to say. Like how do you tell the most beautiful girl in the world that you’ve had a crush on them for a year” George takes a breath, Y/N doesn’t say anything, not that she really had time to, George took her millisecond of silence as rejection and kept speaking. “Merlin, I can’t believe I just said that. It’s okay that you don’t feel the same way, I don’t blame you. I’m so sorry, let’s just forget-“

George doesn’t get to finish the end of that sentence, Y/N had grabbed his face and lightly pressed their lips together.

Startled, George doesn’t know what to do, his brain is going wild he thinks he might have a head attack with how fast his heart is beating, surely this is a dream. But when Y/N’s arms snake around his neck it pulls him back to reality. George moves his hands to Y/N’s hips and deepens the kiss.

Y/N tastes of a mixture of pure heaven and cotton candy, George thinks he’s floating away when he feels Y/N play with his hair at the base of his neck, a soft moan escaping from his mouth.

They eventually pull apart and George keeps his eyes closed, worried if he opens them, he’ll find that he’s actually in his bed and this was just an insanely good dream.

“Georgie, open your eyes” Y/N’s hands are back on George’s cheeks.

George slowly opens his eyes and finds his favourite pair staring back at him.

“Wow” is all he manages.

Y/N just giggles, “If you can’t tell, I like you too. Like a lot. Fred actually told me to meet you here, he said you had something important to tell me. I’m glad you finally said something.”

“Me too because I’d really like to kiss you again” Y/N laughs and presses her lips to Georges sweetly.

George smiles, finally gaining the confidence to say a sentence he never thought he’d be able to form around Y/N. “Y/N do you think maybe- I mean would you maybe want to be my girlfriend?”

“Of course, George Weasley, I’d love to” Y/N replies.

“FINALLY!” a voice erupts from the stairs.

“What the hell?” George questions as he turns around to try and find the culprit, his hand not leaving Y/N’s waist. “Fred?”

Fred emerges from the stairs with a goofy grin on his face.

“Have you been hiding there the whole time? Go away you perv!” George chuckles, reaching for his wand.

“Alright, no need for that” Fred holds his hands up in defence “I just needed to make sure my plan worked and it looks like it did so you can thank me later. Maybe at your wedding.” Fred winks.

“Go away!” George shouts. “I’ll hex you if I have to’

“Okay I’m going, I’m going. No funny business up here though” Fred quickly adds before running down the stairs, narrowly avoiding the jinx George sent his way.

“I’m so sorry about him” George says looking back at Y/N.

Y/N smiles “it’s okay, I guess without him I wouldn’t be able to kiss you anytime I want now.”

The redhead laughs, “yeah, I guess I am grateful for that but not that I’m ever going to tell him” George leans down and kisses Y/N once more, unable to control the smile breaking onto his face.

He finally got the girl, his girl.

#George Weasley #George Weasley one shot #George weasley fanfiction #George Weasley x reader #George Weasley x you #George Weasley Fluff #George Weasley imagine #George Weasley fic #George Weasley oneshot #Harry Potter

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twinklelilstarkey · 3 years

Note

Angsty fight with Freddie??

A/N: Of course, baby! Here it is. Sorry that it’s a bit trash, I suck at angst sometimes.

God, he’s so beautiful.

“And how is any of that my fault?” You scream at him from the other side of the kitchen island, waving your arms around as you express your frustration.

“You let him touch you the whole night!” He screams while pointing at you, starting to make his way out to the living room, “Come on, Y/N, I thought you were smarter than this.”

“Are you serious, Freddie?” You say defensively, following him, “He’s my friend, I can’t just push him to the ground.”

“You guys almost fucking kissed!” He says, stopping to walk to look at you dumbfounded.

“He was blackout drunk! He probably thought I was someone else.”

He shakes his head and looks outside the window of the apartment, almost as if he can’t bear to look at you.

“Like that's an excuse.” He says under his breath.

“It sure is.” You answer him calmer, and you notice, just by his expression, that he didn’t expect you to hear him. “I didn’t kiss him, he tried to kiss me. You can’t blame me for this.”

He shakes his head, still looking out of the window.

“Can you?” You ask.

“I can, Y/N. I can because he’s your friend.” He says, now bringing his eyes back to you. “He should know not to touch you, and not to fucking kiss you. Especially when you’re meeting my friends for the first time!”

You look down at the ground somewhat defeated and he lets out a sigh.

He doesn’t say anything else and you follow his gaze out of the window when you find yourself without words to say. Your mind is affected by the alcohol, and it feels clogged - like only half of the stuff you want to say actually comes out of your mouth.

You feel so ridiculous when arguing with Freddie. But he’s right, in a way. Today was supposed to be special and it was really important to him. You were finally going to meet his friends/teammates after dating for almost 5 months.

It was supposed to be perfect, but it wasn’t.

It began as planned: you met up with Freddie at the front of a bar. It wasn’t as busy as you expected it to be, and inside there were just a few people scattered around the big room. Some of them were his friends, who were sitting by a table.

For the first hours, everything went super well. They were all extremely nice to you, and they were always starting a conversation with you. And all of that happened while Freddie sat beside you, with a proud smile on his face, and with his arm around you securely.

It was going great. No problems, yet.

As the bar got busier, it also began to be as claustrophobic as you expected it to be in the beginning. Everyone started to be squished onto the sides of their tables to let others pass onto the bar to get drinks, and at one point, everyone is already used to getting elbowed in the back and having someone glued to their ass and back.

That’s exactly when a high school (guy) friend of yours appears.

Thankfully, some of Freddie’s friends had left by then, leaving you with only 2 of them, which were too deep in a conversation with him to notice.

Your friend said ‘hello’ to you with a hug and a small wave to everyone else at the table, and right off the bat, you knew this wasn’t going to be good. He’s a super handsy person, especially when drunk, and today is not a good day for that.

But that’s exactly what happened.

You introduced him to Freddie, who you said very clearly that it’s your boyfriend. And from a mile away anyone could tell how much Freddie did not look, in any way, comfortable or understanding towards the guy after whatever hug he just pulled you in.

To be honest, you expected your friend to just say ‘hi’ and go, but that is surely the opposite of what happened since the bar is so packed, it just made him lean in closer and not walk away, at all.

So, he stayed there the whole night, sitting by you and Freddie’s friends.

His arm would wrap around your shoulders out of nowhere or he would kiss your cheek and say - innocent - things in your ear.

Freddie’s friends didn’t seem to care, at least to you, over what was happening due to how much alcohol they had, but Freddie surely did. He tightened his hold around your waist and pulled you close a bunch of times, but your friend never got the memo.

The whole rest of the night was like that, and he drew Freddie’s last straw when he leaned in for a kiss. Hand on the back of your neck and everything.

You turned your head over to the side and pushed him away ever so slightly, in slight shock, but your friend didn’t seem to mind. He still had a smile on his face.

That’s when he giggled at you that Freddie announced your goodbyes to everyone. He would not be willing to wait and see if your friend would pull another one of those unexpected kisses on you. He preferred to just go home.

And in a matter of a few minutes, you were pulled out of the bar with him by your hand and into his car, where you sat silently, letting the events marinate in both of your minds.

And now you’re here, in his apartment, staring outside of the window of the living room. Feeling embarrassment run through your veins, if not even pure humiliation.

Freddie’s mind is going a mile a second, thinking of all the possibilities that his friends saw what happened and will think all a bunch of bullshit about you. Make assumptions and judge you off of those.

It’s haunting him to the point where he can’t even hide it in his tone and facial expression. He feels god awful. For him and for you, all because of what happened. What if everything just went into shit with you and his friends, now?

“Look... I’m sorry.” You whisper in the silence of the room, “I shouldn’t have said anything to him when he came up to me.”

He doesn’t answer, just shakes his head.

“I don’t want to fight anymore, Freddie.” You tell him. “It’s stupid.”

He stays silent again and you force yourself to move. You step closer to him slowly. Your heels, which you still haven’t taken off, click with your steps, and Freddie tenses up when he feels your hand over his arm.

“I-” You try to speak.

“I’m going out to catch some air.” He interrupts you before clearing out his throat.

Your hand falls from his arm and you continue to look at him in hopes that your gaze will meet.

“Do you want me to wai-”

“No.” He shakes his head, bringing his gaze to his feet, “Go to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You fight off your overflowing emotions and heavy breathing, and you hold your own hand in front of you to stop it from shaking. You offer him a small nod, even though he isn’t looking at you.

You move to take a step back but, before you can turn your back to him, Freddie grabs your wrist and turns to face you in a quick movement.

“I-” He starts but cuts himself off to think, “It’s not your fault. You’re right.” He nods at you, “I just need to step out of the house to think, okay?”

You nod and Freddie notices the relief wash over your face.

“I’ll come back in a bit.” He says before giving your hand a small squeeze.

You give him a small smile and he steps aside to walk around you to get to the entrance of the apartment. You face the window as you hear him pick up his keys and soon, the door opens and closes.

You take a slow deep breath in and bring your hands up to your face.

What the hell are you supposed to do now?

Hope you liked this.

Requests are open!

#frederik andersen imagines #frederik andersen x reader #frederik andersen #frederik andersen imagine #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

A Deafened Bard (Stephen Strange x Female!Reader) pt. 2

Doctor Strange and y/n confide their tragic backstories in one another. Y/n struggles with her feelings for him.

Trigger warnings: abusive parenting, use of firearms, discussion of death and grief, mention of alcoholism

"On the outside, always looking in

Will I ever be more than I've always been?

Cause I'm tap, tap, tapping on the glass-"

You stopped yourself before you could indulgently belt out the titular lyric.

"Ew, why was I singing that?" You muttered to yourself. "I don't even like that song."

You knew, subconsciously, that it was because you were trying to avoid what you really wanted to sing. For the first time ever, you had an audience. Someone was paying attention.

"Love of my life, you've hurt me-"

"Oh, come on, butterfingers." He interrupted. "Love of my Life by Freddie Mercury. Give me something hard."

"I wasn't aware it was classic rock trivia night."

"Then why were you staring straight at me while singing?" He smirked.

"Was I?" You cocked your head, expertly deflecting his implication. "I'm so spaced out I don't even know where I'm looking."

"It's Freddie Mercury." He insisted.

"Uh, yes and no." You corrected, drawing on your encyclopedic knowledge of Queen from one particularly weird summer in high school. "While Freddie Mercury wrote the song, it was recorded on a Night at the Opera. Which was accredited to the whole band."

"That's a nitpick," he shook his head. "I'm still right."

You couldn't wear your heart on your sleeve anymore. You could only distract him with 70s glam rock trivia for so long before he started to notice a pattern. Although a sappy love song was in your heart, you sang the anthem of the depressed theater kid.

You were staring straight at him, though. But who wouldn't? You studied his features only for artistic inspiration. His sharp jaw and high, high cheekbones were… inspiring.

You couldn't lie to yourself. You fell and fell hard.

"Butterfingers!" Master Strange called out from the other side of the sanctum. "I need you!"

You dropped your pencil and pushed yourself out from the chair. "Coming!"

You followed the voice into his chambers. This was a new development, you thought. Out of respect for his privacy, you'd never dared to snoop around in his bedroom. But this was practically a written invitation.

The room was spotless. Not a book or a scrap of paper out of place. Nor was there much to look at at all. A handful of picture frames, some magazines from when he was a surgeon, all featuring himself on the cover.

"Butterfingers!" He called again, as if he knew you were about to snoop.

"I'm here!" You yelled back, eyes wandering around the room. "What do you need?"

"I left my watch somewhere in the library!" He sounded disproportionately panicked for what was just a minor inconvenience. "I need you to go get it for me."

"What does it look like?" You asked.

"It's a $27,000 watch." He snapped impatiently. "It looks like one."

"Jesus." You cursed.

"Don't give me that shit, [F/N]." He ordered, slamming his fist down against the sink. "Just do what you're goddamn told."

"Alright, alright!" You put your hands up. "Fine, I'll get it."

You hurried down the stairs and into the library. On the floor between his favorite chair and a stack of musty old books was a slim, silvery watch with a plain black band.

You picked it up and examined it. Apart from the price tag, was there really any reason for him to be so worried about it? He knew exactly where he left it. Did he have reason to believe it wouldn't be there when he returned?

All you needed to do was flip it over to get your answer. You read the inscription on the back.

Time will tell how much I love you -- Christine

You should have known that his massive ego wouldn’t keep the women away forever. Hell, it certainly didn’t deter you. Much uglier douchebags have gotten far prettier girlfriends than they deserved.

You closed your fingers around the watch and sighed. The fantasy you created for yourself, of slowly, deliberately earning his love was shattered. Christine already beat you to it, it seemed. You tried to smother the part of you that resented this person for her exclusive right to Master Strange's affections. You didn't know her, but you loathed her. And you felt filthy for it.

With a heavy heart, you brought the stupid, criminally expensive little timepiece back to its rightful owner.

"Here's your all-important watch, master." You mumbled, placing it on the bedside table.

"I know I told you I would give you space to question things," He said, swiping it from the table and expertly affixing it around his wrist. "But I'd really appreciate it if you didn't question this."

You tried to sound as non-passive-aggressive as you could. You attempted a more forgiving tone, but you couldn't hide your hurt. "It's fine. I don't care."

"I didn't mean to get short with you, [F/N]." His voice softened. "I'm sorry. But this watch-"

"It's fine." You cut him off, peering at the floor.

"It was a gift." He finished anyway.

You felt the lump in your throat rising. You knew what the watch represented and you wanted to smash it to pieces. Along with the sting of rejection, you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. "I know. I saw the engraving."

"She died two years ago." He lowered his head.

Suddenly, all your ill will towards this woman turned into guilt.

"I'm sorry to hear that." You said. "I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone who loved you so much."

"She had agreed to come to a speaking engagement with me. As a second chance, and-" Pain wrapped his voice. He closed his hand tightly around the watch and held it close to his chest. "Have you ever been in love before, [F/N]?"

From the way your heart ached, and how easily the thought of never being with him made you cry, you knew the answer. You'd been avoiding speaking it into being thus far, but you couldn't lie to yourself anymore.

"Yes." You whispered.

"You'll learn soon enough." He muttered. "It only brings more suffering."

The tears finally breached and you tried to blink them away. You didn't know what emotion was causing them: guilt, shame, contempt, anger, sadness-- they were all present.

"Master Strange, I-" you stuttered, tripping over your breath. "I respect what you've gone through, I really do, but it's not fair to take it out on me."

"You're right." He conceded. "I'm sorry. Please, go get some sleep.”

You nodded. “Right.”

You slept as late as you could get away with the next morning. In apprentice terms, that only meant sleeping until eight thirty. Your dailies could wait an extra hour while you laid in bed, feeling like garbage.

You stumbled down the spiral staircase in your pajamas. No bra, no makeup and no effort. You didn’t even run a brush through your hair. Why try, you thought. Why make an effort for the man who would never see you as anything but the help?

When you saw the piano, though, you did a full 180.

In the living area was a French cherry baby grand piano that definitely was not there before. You certainly would have noticed it before. You placed your phone on the counter and approached the new addition.

As if the memories were woven into the very muscles and ligaments of your fingers, you ran down a few octaves of C Major. The keys were smooth as porcelain and the sound that emanated from the instrument was next to heavenly.

A bright orange post-it note was stuck to the music rack.

“Love of my Life”, Queen, A Night at the Opera. 1975

Was this a request, or an admission of wrong? Whatever the case, it made you smile.

"You weren't being entirely honest with me, Butterfingers." He said, randomly materializing behind you.

You turned around on the piano bench and looked up at him. "What was I not honest about?"

"I'm so glad you asked." He sat down on the bench next to you, phone in hand. "Because when you said you used to play piano, you didn't specify you were actually a student prodigy."

Sure enough, on his phone, he was scrolling through your Instagram. Dozens of videos of a much younger [F/N] playing hundreds of different songs, singing with too many vocal runs and doing so with the entire content of her soul behind the music.

"Student prodigy is a bit strong." You turned your head to hide your blush.

He scrolled up and found a picture of a young, zit-faced teenage [F/N] holding an acceptance letter. "Last I checked, Juilliard doesn't give full-ride scholarships to just anyone."

You covered your face with your hands, smothering an embarrassed smile. "God, please. I'd rather you'd found my OnlyFans."

He raised his eyebrows. "As tempting as that sounds, I'd still rather hear your explanation on this. Why did you give up on something you loved?"

You looked at him in surprise. "You really want to know?"

"Well, I told you mine." He playfully nudged you in the side.

You took a deep breath in. "Well, it was about two years ago, now-”

"Cheers to you, [F/N]!" Your best friend Holly raised her glass of champagne in your direction. "Juilliard ain't gonna know what hit ‘em."

"I'll drink to that." You said, bring your own flute up to your lips and taking a swig. You wretched in disgust as the vile liquid ran down your throat. "Or maybe I won't."

"You're gonna have to get used to it." Holly nudged you with her elbow. "I think most professional musicians are alcoholics."

You narrowed your eyes at her. "I don't think that's right."

"Is too." She smirked. "Conductors are mad strict. Abusive even. Drive musicians to drink all the time."

You laughed. "Is everything you know about the world of music from Whiplash?"

"And The Perfection." She added.

"Thank you, Holly." You said, attempting to take another sip of champagne, purely for dramatic effect. "Very cool."

You felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. "Hi, Holly. Enjoying the party?"

Holly took a step back. "Hey, Mrs. [L/N]. Yeah, it's great."

"I hope you don't mind," Your mom said, her fake nice voice eeking through her clenched teeth. "I need to borrow [F/N] for a few minutes."

Holly's face fell. "Sure. I'll catch up with you later, [F/N]."

Your mother tugged you off to the side. With a stressed huff, she began. "Jason is out in the fields with his ROTC friends."

"And what do you want me to do about that?" You asked, knowing her drunk self couldn't read your sarcastic tone.

"Could you go get him and bring him home?" She said, squeezing your upper arm.

"Are you kidding?" You spat.

"[F/N], he's drunk." She scolded. "Do you want him to get another strike on his record?"

"I don't care." You mumbled under your breath. "Have him call an uber. Hell, let him sleep it off in the field. Not my problem."

"You know what he's like when he's drunk." She rationalized. "He gets rowdy. It had better be you."

You tensed up. "No. Holly and I are going to the French Quarter. I don't have time to babysit Jason."

"Just pick him up on your way there?" She pleaded. "It won't take long."

You knew this wasn't going to stop. "Fine, but this is the last time."

You were both dressed far too well to be trekking through the swampy ass nowhere when you should have been fucking your way through the French Quarter. Luckily for your evening plans, all you needed to do was follow the sound of gunshots.

You slammed the car door shut and Holly followed suit. Finding him was the easy part. The hard part was hauling his drunk ass back home.

"Fun's over, shithead." You announced, heels sinking into the sod as you spoke. You didn't have much trouble projecting over the gunfire and getting their attention.

"Shit, [F/N]?" Jason sputtered, so drunk he could barely keep his head straight.

"Holy shit, I didn't even recognize you in that dress." One of his dumb fuck friends added. He jabbed Jason in the side. "Why didn't you tell me your sister's hot?"

"Buster, I-'' You clenched your teeth. "I don't care if you live or die, but my mom needs me to bring Jason home."

"If you get in the car now, we won't have to use the chloroform." Holly added.

Jason scratched the back of his head with the barrel of his gun, then pointed it at you. "You're gonna have to make me."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You exclaimed, hitting the deck. "What the fuck, Jason!?"

Jason and his dumbass friends laughed. "You should have seen the look on your face, [F/N]!"

"Put down the fucking gun-" You seethed. "And get in the fucking car."

He lowered the gun and looked like he was going to concede. Just when you thought he would cooperate, he stuck it up again. He keeled over in a fit of laughter when you and Holly panicked again.

"Look at them!" He shouted. "They're so fucking scared!"

You knew out in the middle of the swamp, nobody could hear you scream. So you used it to your advantage.

"Jason, you're going in the car, or under it." You raised your voice. "I will mow your drunk ass down like eight day old roadkill right here in this field and you will be LUCKY if anyone finds your bloated, shit-covered remains before the crocodiles get a whiff of you."

That seemed to get his attention.

"Sorry, boys." He pouted. "You heard her."

He had to 'get you' one final time, though. Only that time, the gun went off. Just centimeters from your ear. You clutched the side of your head, trying to drown out the deafening ringing with your screams.

You vaguely remembered Holly pistol-whipping Jason before loading you into the car to drive you to the hospital, leaving him desolate and drunk in the field.

"It was a one-in-a-million shot." The otolaryngologist tried not to sound impressed at what was clearly some kind of anomaly very few got to witness in a medical career. "When the bullet fired, the gunpowder traveled down your ear canal, burning the cells of your auditory nervous system and... singing your eardrum... clean off."

Your eyes widened. "Off?!"

The doctor lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Miss [L/N]. I'm afraid you'll never return to full hearing again."

You didn't want to kill the messenger. You knew she was only doing her job. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"If we could do a tympanoplasty, which, given the condition of the drum, is unlikely-" she began. "There would still be no way to fully repair the hair cells along the ear canal."

You took deep breaths to try and quell your simmering rage. "I'm leaving for Juilliard in three months."

"Hearing aid technology has improved significantly over the last decade." She said, a somewhat hopeful upturn in her voice.

That was when your mother decided to join in on the conversation. "Oh, we can't afford that."

You thought you were going to crush your teeth into bits from how tightly your jaw was clenched in fury. "Take it out of Jason's college fund, then."

"Oh, [F/N]." She said as if you had just told the funniest joke imaginable. "Please. That wouldn't be fair to Jason."

"You can afford to send that blithering idiot to the Citadel." You hissed. "You can afford to buy me a hearing aid so I can play piano."

"Beethoven was entirely deaf." Your mom pointed out. "And he became the greatest composer of all time. It's really just mind over matter, sweetie-"

"Sure, that makes perfect sense!" You plastered on a deranged smile, feeling driven to the brink of madness. "I can repair my destroyed eardrum with the power of positive thinking! Jason gets thirty-five thousand dollars a year to play soldier, but I have to just use my imagination."

She covered her face with her hands as if she was being attacked and went into kicked-puppy mode. "Don't be mad at Jason, [F/N]. He didn't mean to hurt you-"

"Fuck this." You said, releasing all your tension in those two words. "Fuck all of this. I'm tired of you defending that chauvinist asshole. The next time you see me will be when one of us is dead."

"Where are you going?!" She wailed.

You snatched your purse from the table and threw it over your shoulder. "I'm moving out."

“Disgraced at age nineteen?" Master Strange said, leaning back on the piano. "Let me guess, you turned to alcohol to cope?"

"You'd think, but actually no." You shook your head. The tone of the conversation had taken a sharp left turn from sadness to dry, apathetic amusement. "I probably would have if I could have afforded it."

"You missed out." He said. "Drinking a whole bottle of eighty year old scotch was definitely the highlight of my grieving period."

You'd never joined the clauses 'Master Strange' and 'drunk off his ass' in the same sentence before then. It was an odd mental picture for sure. One you needed to see to believe.

"I got desperate." You admitted. "Luckily, New Orleans had a lot to offer someone like me, so I didn't have to go far to find people claiming to have answers. But it was all essential oils, incense, binaural beats-"

"I'm sorry," he cut in. "What kind of dickhead suggests binaural beats to someone with only one functioning ear?"

You threw up your hands. "Right? Doesn't make sense. Anyway, I came across a woman named Mistress Fantina and she pointed me in the right direction. How to heal my body through control of my spirit."

He looked at you with that fascination of the human body characteristic of those in the medical field. "It worked, I assume?"

"I figured it out." You shrugged. "But I got so invested in the Mystic Arts that I forgot all about Juilliard. Became a full-time student. Ever since, I never once thought about returning to my old life."

"I suppose if I'd discovered this world because I had lost, say, my ability to perform surgery, it would be hard to leave it behind and return to the operating room." He thought out loud. Sighing, he closed his hand over his watch. "But no matter how medical science evolves, you can't reverse death."

You let the quiet linger for a moment.

#doctor strange #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #doctor stephen strange #stephen strange #dr stephen strange #stephen strange x you #what if #what if marvel #doctor strange supreme #tw guns #tw abusive parent

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a-froger-epic · 3 years

Text

Interview with a Queen “groupie”

Cross-posted to AO3. I encourage you to leave any comments you have there.

---

I compiled this interview following a long email exchange with J, a very sweet lady who went to Ealing Art School between 1972 and 1974. She knew all four members of Queen personally and was part of their larger circle of friends.

First off, you may find this hard to believe. I don’t blame you. But I assure you I’m not pulling your leg. As well as the pictures I share in this post, I have seen current pictures of J (which I will not share to protect her privacy). There is no indication as far as I am aware that she isn’t who she says she is.

Nastally, hold up. How exactly did you find this lady?

She found me. It turns out that she has been following my story Dawn of Aquarius for quite some time. The story is set in 1969. A lot of research about the era went into it, because I wanted to portray that time period - and Freddie’s and Roger’s surroundings - as accurately and realistically as I possibly could. That was what drew J in. She tells me it brought back a lot of memories for her. One of the reasons I love DoA so much is the nostalgia, she says, which genuinely means the world to me. Eventually, she talked to me in the comment section. Of course, I freaked out!

And then, I asked her for an interview, to which she replied: I will give it a go, but you must remember that I am 65 and there were great drugs in the 70s, and at 16, away from home, I had a lot!

And so...

Here’s what is IMPORTANT TO KEEP IN MIND when you read this interview.

These are one woman’s 50-year-old memories and subjective impressions. J has been incredibly kind to let me pick her brain, trying to recall everything as best as she can. In her own words:

Just remember that when I answer the questions, it is from a 16-year-old who is 9 years younger than Freddie and a little girl with no family and friends in a strange country trying to fit in. The only reason I was there, was because some hippie thought I had a unique art style.

---

J as a teenager.

[I have edited the interview together from our long, and somewhat messy at times, email exchange. Typos have been fixed and some punctuation added for clarity, but I have not changed anything J has written to me. Again, bear in mind these are personal opinions and impressions.]

So, J, how did you end up at Ealing Art School in 1972 and what was it like?

This was the painting done for the Australian school-leaving certificate.

It placed first and gave me a scholarship. I could pick France, the USA or England. As a dual citizen of the UK, the choice was easy. The scholarship paid for board and fees, so had to be and sell whatever for spending money.

This picture is from the dorm. We all had a 10pm curfew and a very thick rule book that, I am proud to say, I broke every one of them, one by one. The rooms were on the 1st and 2nd floor. We were on the first floor, rooms one side and admin staff the other end. We had two bathrooms for 18 girls. One of them had two baths. The walls were your standard half wall, so it was a given that if you had a bath you run the risk of having a bucket of cold water dropped on you. Downstairs was the kitchen and lounge room.

I want to ask you a few things about life in London in the early 70s, to get a picture of what it was really like. For example, was there alcohol at the music gigs you went to?

If it was a school, church or community hall, no. If it was a pub, yes.

Did you and your friends drink as much then as young people tend to drink now when you all went out?

No, we didn't. I think it had a lot to do with money. We didn't have the disposable income, and it was unheard of to still be living at home with the parents after the age of 20.

Was weed and LSD as big and easily accessible as depictions of the 60s and 70s would have us believe?

The drugs! Got to have drugs. Pot (weed) was easy to grow, very cheap. Used to smoke it in bongs rather than joints, more bang for your buck. Trips [LSD] were cheap, I think. About 2 pounds and you were on the high for over 24 hours with no sleep. My drug of choice was hash. Either the oil or the block. It was a nice high, but you could not function well. But if you listen to the music of the time it really does reflect what it was like, to have a group of friends over for a session. Having said all that the most outlandish and shocking drug I ever saw anyone use was the birth control pill. Didn't you have to hide that stuff away?!

Can you tell us some 70s slang that isn’t really in use anymore? What in the world does “ultra-blagging” mean? (As written in a letter penned by Freddie to his friend Celine in 1969.)

Abso-bloody-lootely!

Man, I thought I was the bees knees to be on a scholarship in London. But that didn't stop me from jigging or having a skive day. They were the days that I blagged my way into a pub, had too many lagers and ended up chundering in the gutter. That was how you knew your night was ace. I would get a right bollocking if anyone found out. It would be a bugger when all that you could find at a car boot sale was chavtastic, but sometimes you could be Jammy Dodger and tickety-boo you find something brilliant. Bob's your uncle. Anyways, I need to see a man about a dog.

[It seems to me that J uses a bit of Australian slang here, like chundering, which makes sense because she is, after all, Australian. She also provided the translation:]

Cheers

It would be my honour.

I felt very privileged to be given a scholarship that let me study in England. But being so young and having no family to guide me, it was often tempting to not turn up or give a false excuse for being sick. (I had a lot of food poisoning). These would often happen if the night before I had been drinking beer and ended up vomiting outside the pub. But in my young mind that was a good night. If any of the teachers found me drinking I would be in a lot of trouble. Often I would have to say I was holding it for someone else. Not having much clothes with me, I would buy them second hand from church jumble sales or other students and, yes, Kensington market (the market). Some of the stuff would not be very tasteful or in good condition. But sometimes you would find something that was cheap and in good condition. I will stop this text now as I must go to the toilet.

PS: Ultrablagging sounds very Freddie. Blagging was used, but not ultra, meaning to persuade someone to do something or act better than you are. They were always rock stars.

Sincerely

[It was at this point that I realised I was talking to an absolute legend. She also told me then that the majority of her old photographs had sadly been lost when her house was flooded in 1988, including most of the photographs from her stay in London. Noooo! :(]

When you went out to dance, did you have only live music? Were there DJs yet?

You know, that is hard. We did not have a DJ. Sometimes there would be a band. Often we looked for places with a band or the jukebox. I think pubs closed at 10pm and some stayed open to 12 or 1, but public transport stopped at 9. So if you had not arranged a lift then you had to make the last bus. Most of the time we would be heading back to someone's place to get stoned and then crash there. In the morning you would have to work out where you were. When I got back to Australia, the discos were all the rage. They could have been in London too but it was not cool to like disco.

How many people would show up to Queen’s gigs when they played in pubs or at, for example, the Imperial College?

Depending on the location and the night: 10 to 1000!

So how did you first meet the Queen boys?

I was at the pub talking about a band we saw last week when Brian stuck his head into our booth telling us he knew a better one. Thinking about seeing them at the stall... Roger not often, Freddie quite a lot. Often on different stalls, I think that is why I can't remember the name. [The name of the stall. Other sources confirm that Freddie also worked at Alan Muir’s stall, for example, selling shoes.]

How well did you know them?

Just looking at your tumblr account. [she has had a look at my blog, where somebody asked if ‘groupie’ meant she had slept with the band] No, I never slept with the boys. I would not say I was a close friend, but I started at Ealing Art College in ‘72 and moved in the same circles. I loved the music and could be called one of the first groupies. I had to sneak into the pubs because I was 16. Roger always teased me for being so young. They all did seem to be one very large family, not just the band. It was a group of about twenty regulars, both male and female. Everyone knew that Fred was too gay to function. We were all at the gay rights march in London in 1972, had to run after the march. Lots of sharpies [Australian slang: youth gang, thugs] wanting to bash us. Back then I was in every protest that was going, student union rights, even the secretary protest. Just part of the times, stick it to Man or Woman. I left London in ‘74 for Australia, been here ever since and lost track of the boys but have never stopped being a fan.

What do you remember about them? How would you describe their personalities?

Don’t let the trolls hate me, but I did not like Brian. I found him to be rather full of himself. Space was a subject you never brought up around Brian or you would die of old age before he stopped talking. He was always the first to speak and start a conversation and then quickly passed you off to John, who was always tired and shy. Roger was also quite shy at times. He was very self-conscious of his looks, as he felt being pretty, nobody would take him seriously. Fred, well, he was not yet the big star, so I think he was working on his stage persona. When talking to groups at parties, he had the best stories of things that had happened to him or close friends. They were very funny and very descriptive. He was the life of the party. When he had a few to drink or was the centre of attention, he would take a cigarette out of the closest person’s hand and start smoking. Now remember this is the point of view of a 16-year-old girl that was a fish out of water, trying to fit in and not having much worldly experience.

It is said that Freddie and Roger were very stylish. How did they dress in everyday life?

Fred would do his hair and makeup to check the mail. Yes, he was always turned out, but so were a lot of people. Freddie did go over the top with hats, scarfs and jewellery. With Roger, it is a surprise he was able to have kids his jeans were that tight. And his shirts were always open unless he was in a jumper. I think it could have been so that you knew he was male, as it was the start of the unisex clothing. When I travelled out of London I realised it was a London thing. When I got back to Australia everyone thought I was a show-off.

There are some disagreements about how tall especially Freddie was. I know this is a difficult thing to try and remember accurately. But do you remember?

Freddie was taller than me but everyone was. Roger was shorter than Fred, but I never saw Roger in platform shoes. I did meet up with the band by chance at Sydney airport in 1984, said ‘hello’ but they did not remember me, or if they did then they did not say anything and I did not want to be a dork. At that time Fred was the same height as me (5ft 8in/1.72m), Roger was taller than me. It made me think at the time that he had a growth spurt! John was shorter than me and Brian has always been tall. [I have a feeling the platform shoes - or lack thereof - played a vital role here! Although 172cm for Freddie seems likely.]

You said everyone knew Freddie was “too gay to function”. Attitudes towards homosexuality have changed so much that it can be hard for us, now, to fathom what exactly people must have thought of him. Was it more of a joke that he was so camp? Was it something he would have been teased for? Also, he had a girlfriend. Did you ever meet Mary or the other girlfriends?

In 1972 a whole group of us - and I am pretty sure that Fred, Roger, Brian and Tim were there - were in a gay pride march. [Since then, J has found and showed me a picture of a boy she thought was Tim Staffel, and it wasn't, so Tim was most definitely not there. Whether Freddie, Roger and Brian really were there or if J is misremembering, who knows?] Us youth believed you could not choose who you fell in love with and if it was same sex, so what? However, if it was two girls then it was every guy’s duty to change her!

It was also a time that the gayer the guy was, the more the girls were interested. Also, if a guy was gay then you did not have to worry about him and he was a good person to take with you if you were going out drinking. However, the police, parents, teachers and anyone of authority were horrified and treated them badly. I did meet Mary a couple of times at pubs and once after a gig. This is just my opinion, but I found her a bitch. It could be that I was so young. It could be that I was very Australian. It could be that she felt threatened as my accent was a magnet to people around. And the boys (Queen) were no exception. Brian had a cousin in OZ and was always asking questions. I remember that my close group of friends thought that Mary made the perfect girlfriend for Fred as they were as fake as each other. Having said that about them, I often wonder if I would think the same now and if my perceptions were just because she would not give me the time of Day. Chrissy and Jo were a lot of fun.

This was before your time, but I read that Freddie's nickname at Ealing Art School was ‘Freddie Baby’. Any ideas how this came about? His showmanship or maybe personality traits?

I don't think so. There were an older crowd that would talk like that. I think the slang ‘baby’ was a 60’s thing, like groovy baby.

How long, roughly, did Roger and Freddie have their stall? I can't find anywhere when it closed down. What did it actually look like? Was it a sort of wooden stall type of thing? Or an actual room? What were some of the other things people sold at Kensington Market? Mostly clothes or all sorts?

The markets were little divided shops. The back was brick and the walls wood. I have been trying all day to remember the name. [Of the stall.] I think it was something hard to say. More often than not it would be Freddie's dad in the store. It was still open when I left. Roger and Freddie were both in the store on Saturdays and some Sundays. There was a girl, I think Jill, who was in the store more. And during the week it could be anyone. You name it and you could get it at the markets. Second hand or designer clothes, shoes, jewellery, pot and assortments. Hair cuts, food, bric-a-brac.

Wait, wait. What? Freddie’s dad? Really now?

Yeah, it was an older Indian man. so we just assumed it was his father. It was my understanding that he started the stall then the boys would work it as the whole markets were set up for younger people, but if needed he would work there. I don't think the boys would be able to pay the rent on their own. [I have since found out that the stall closed in late 1971, and Freddie continued to work at the Market until '74, for Alan Mair and possibly others. So the stall J witnessed wasn't their original stall - explaining all the different people she saw there - but she had no way of knowing that it wasn't.] They always had incense burning that was very big in the 70s. I still occasionally bring out the sticks, but it does not last like the candles and diffusers of today. If you could get in touch with Robert Daniels, he ran ChaChaDumDum it was the stall across from Freddie. He would know the dates.

[J says it’s this look, in a picture she happened across while looking at my tumblr] Yep, that is the one. It usually means that he does not believe or agree with something that was said and is working out how to respond, or he has lost the plot.

You mentioned Roger seemed shy to you at times. Was he also quite charming? We read a lot about what a chick magnet he was. Was this the impression you had?

My favorite subject! I had a thing for Roger. Everyone has a type and mine is the blue-eyed blond. Now, before you ask, was he brunet? No, he was a mouse/dirty blond. If it was summer he would have blond streaks mostly at the ends. He knew he was pretty and was always dressed in the latest fashion and had the current hairstyle. So, being my type I was constantly watching him. Everyone slept around during that time. I did not notice Roger doing it more or less. 80% of the time he was with Jo. Yes, he was a chick magnet, but he did not do the chasing. He was always very polite to everyone. If it ever looked like there would be any conflict he would be the first to leave it. It was not that he was a coward, just not into conflict. If he saw anyone that needed help he was right there, and often had to have Freddie's back. I never saw him in a fight. He could always talk his way out of things. He was also very patient and would listen for hours to other people talk. However, he would get this vacant look in his eyes at times.

And Freddie would either click his fingers, change the subject or just give up. I don’t think that Brian noticed, and it would be fair game for John, he would see how far he could push it. Roger liked to drink a fair bit and when drunk he would be hanging all over Jo. If she was not there then he missed Jo. If, however, he thought that he or his friends were not being respected, then look out! It was a verbal volcano heading your way. That is what happened to me one time. I was trying to talk with my friends close to where a drunken Roger was and I yelled at him to shut the hell up, you wannabe blond. We/I coped a mouthful back, all in the same sentence, that finished with: Sorry, I didn't realise you were on your rags (period)! I have to have the last word, so I told him the truth: I don’t get them yet! (I was a late starter.) He went so red in the face and called me JB [jail bait] from then.

You also mentioned Roger’s cat Ziggy having kittens. I read about this but never when exactly it was. Do you remember?

I think it was winter ‘73. I remember being cold when he was asking around the pub. [To find homes for the kittens, I gather.]

Is it quite strange reading fictional interpretations of real people you knew? When did you first find out there was Queen fanfic?

No, we used to make up stories about people all the time, a verbal fanfic. Was looking up Adam Lambert and came across the fanfics. Some had me in stitches! Others, like DoA, had me hooked.

Please, allow me to be a little self-indulgent at the end. What's one thing I got totally RIGHT in DoA?

All the Ibex stuff.

What's one thing I got totally WRONG in DoA?

Roger did not have a temper, and I don’t know what the go with his father was, but he would talk about him quite a bit and was always visiting his mum. [Absolutely fair, not only did I change the timeline of Roger’s parents divorce in DoA - for lack of information at the time - but also created a completely fictional narrative around it for the sake of storytelling.]

J, thank you so much for all this, sincerely. Can you tell me a little more about yourself? Are you still an artist?

I don't paint or draw any more. At the age of a 50 the doctors operated on an aneurysm or three, and now my eyesight is very bad, I have no fine motor skills and a tremor. I was married in January 1984 and have just celebrated our 37 year anniversary. I have one daughter who is 30 and two great, although tiring grandkids. A girl, 11, and one boy, 5. I have lived my life as the average middle class Australian with great memories. Talking with you has helped me a lot to remember a time when the world was mine for the taking. When I returned to OZ I started nursing, met my best friend, and we planned that once we graduated we would go back to London to study midwifery. But I fell in love instead.

J's wedding in 1984. As you can see, she found her own blue-eyed blond.

---

Upon request, J has shared some of her past and present artwork with me.

These are from her time at Ealing Art School:

These were done later, back in Australia:

J: Did this just before Christmas as you had inspired me. It did not require fine motor skills!

So there you have it! I hope you found this little glimpse through a 16-year-old girl’s eyes as much of a fascinating read as I did. I urge everybody one more time to remember that J did not have to share any of this, and I think we all owe her a big thank you for delving into her memories. She is likely to see the responses on AO3, so I have comment moderation enabled there as I will not let anybody harass this lovely lady. The tumblr she created is @since72, but she isn’t really an active user and also very new to it all. Again, I can only urge everybody to be respectful.

If you have other burning question for J, feel free to leave them in the comments on AO3. I will either pass them on, or she may want to reply to them herself directly.

#Queen band #Freddie Mercury #Roger Taylor #John Deacon #Brian May #interview #i am so excited about this #so much into #information #JB

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sixmapleleafs · 3 years

Text

in your arms // frederik andersen

Warning: smut, relatively soft but some graphic description and language, innocence kink (kind of), brief mentions of anxiety and a bad day

Tears threatened to spill as you headed out towards your parked car, today had probably been the worst day you’d had since you started teaching. For some reason the kids were bouncing off the walls all day, unable to stay focused on any of the tasks you had set and whenever you tried to get their attention they purposefully ignored you, which led to you raising your voice properly for the first time and having to give a few of the kids a variety of different punishments for their rude behaviour. Usually, you wouldn’t be so harsh, you often allowed them to talk whilst working or freely share their ideas and opinions with the class but the things you were trying to teach were very important and if they didn’t give it their full attention then they would really struggle with the upcoming topics. ‘At least it’s Friday’ you thought to yourself as you unlocked your car and got in, that meant you had two days where you could sleep in and relax, and also that Freddie would be back in the city before you woke up tomorrow morning. Your phone buzzed in your coat pocket as you started the car, a message from Fred lighting up the screen.

How’s your day going? I miss you

The first few tears escaped as you read his message over and over again a few times, you hadn’t allowed yourself to think about how much you missed him, honestly it scared you a little how fast you were falling for him, but knowing he missed you made you believe he might be feeling the same way. You knew things had moved fast between the two of you in terms of how quickly you had opened up to each other - though you had yet to be intimate in a physical way - you assumed it was because you were honest with him before you started dating, you had already told him about your anxiety and your previous relationship and the toll it had taken on you mentally and he had been nothing but supportive as a friend, so it shouldn’t have surprised you that when he became more than a friend he let you set the pace of things.

Not great :( can’t wait to see you tomorrow

Shutting off your phone, you threw it into your bag and started driving back to your apartment. As soon as you got there you headed straight to the couch, flopping down rather dramatically and letting out a sigh of relief knowing you could stay there all night if you wanted to. After a few minutes you pulled yourself up deciding to place an order for food from your new favourite restaurant, one Fred had taken you to a few weeks ago, the food was a little on the expensive side but you wanted to treat yourself. Once the order was placed you had a shower before getting changed into something more comfortable and putting on your Spotify playlist as you sorted through all the pieces of work you had taken home to grade over the weekend, then you cleaned up a few things in your apartment so you wouldn’t have to keep looking at the mess. Your food arrived very promptly and you settled on the couch with your plate, putting on an episode of the big bang theory to enjoy whilst you ate.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when there was knock on your door, dragging your attention away from the episode you were currently halfway through. Your brows furrowed in confusion, who would be knocking on your door this late in the evening? Peeking through the peep hole you saw a delivery man so you quickly unlocked the door and pulled your cardigan tighter around yourself as you greeted him.

“Miss Y/l/n?” He questioned politely, and you nodded in response. He smiled and turned to his side picking up a rather large bouquet of flowers, you let out a small gasp as you realised they must be for you. “Where would you like them miss?” He asked and you stepped aside to let him in.

“Just on the counter please” you couldn’t help but smile as you knew exactly who had sent them to you, “thank you”.

“No problem, have a nice evening” he smiled and headed back out if your apartment as you returned the sentiment. The flowers were absolutely beautiful, the different shades of pink complimented each other and you admired how the colours fit perfectly with the subtle hints if dusty pink you had around your apartment - something Fred had undoubtedly picked up on. A little white card was nestled in between the roses and you picked it up carefully to read the small black font.

I hope these make your day a little better :) - F

You smiled at the simple but thoughtful message, such a sweet gesture that you definitely weren’t used to. Grabbing your phone you quickly found Fred’s contact and hit the call button, the game wasn’t supposed to start for a few more hours due to the time difference so you hoped he would be free to chat. Just as you hoped he picked up on the second ring, his soft voice greeting you through the phone.

“Thank you for the flowers, you really didn’t need to do that” you didn’t like him spending money on you but you appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

“Its no problem my love” your heart fluttered at the sweet name he had never used before, “I wanted to cheer you up a little, even if I couldn’t be there tonight”.

“Well they definitely made me smile, they’re so beautiful” you gently ran your fingers over the delicate flowers, “they’re my favourite you know - roses” you felt the need to let him know for some reason but his small chuckle told you he already knew that.

“Yeah, I remember you said your grandmother grows them so I thought they probably would be” your cheeks ached from how much you were smiling and you knew you were definitely screwed, you were too far gone for this man. “Do you want to talk about your day?” His voice interrupted your racing mind and you could tell what was going through his head - trying not pry too much in case you didn’t want to talk but also concerned enough to ask. It wasn’t often that you showed him you were struggling, you had gotten very good at hiding your feelings but when you did let him in he tried his hardest to prove he was there to listen, not judge. So you told him about your day, all the things that had gone wrong and how you felt like you were failing even though you knew maybe you were being a little dramatic. He listened through all of your anxious rambling, his steady breathing helping to keep you calm before he jumped in with his advice.

“Whenever I have a bad game you always tell me that the next ones a fresh start, a clean slate and I think the same applies here baby. When you go back in on Monday things will be different, you’ll have another chance and everyday after that will be a new day. These kids are usually well-behaved right? Today they were just full of energy and couldn’t focus, just like Monday will be a different for you, it’ll be different for them and you’ll be able to get through to them”.

The two of you talked for a while until you let out a rather big yawn and Fred chuckled telling you to head to bed and that he’d see you tomorrow. Your next request fell from your lips before you could stop them.

“Can you stay here tonight?” You bit your nails nervously as you waited for his response.

“Are you sure?” His voice deep and intense as he questioned you, you bit your lip at the sound, unconsciously clenching your thighs.

“I just want to see you, please Fred” you begged slightly over the phone and you heard his release of breath over the phone and how he had to clear his throat before telling you he’d be there.

You were already asleep by the time Fred made his way to your apartment. He had told you not to wait up for him since the plane wouldn’t be landing until the early hours of the morning, and you happily welcomed sleep after the stressful day you’d had. He let himself in and due to the late hour he headed straight for your bedroom, the game had been fairly dull, an easy win for the leafs and though he was tired from the trip he was glad you had asked him to spend the night at yours, something fairly new to your relationship but a sign you were putting your trust in him. He knew you’d be asleep so he tried to be as quiet as possible when he removed his suit, though despite his best efforts you still stirred in your sleep, eventually opening your eyes.

“Fred?” You questioned, yawning and rubbing your eyes as you sat up in bed. It was then that he noticed you were wearing one of his t-shirts and he smiled at your sleepy expression, you looked adorable.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, elskede”

“Its ok” you mumbled, another yawn following as you returned his smile. He continued to undress and your cheeks heated as you tried to keep your eyes off of him. “You played really well tonight” you mentioned out of nowhere and his own cheeks turned red at your compliment. He made his way over to the bed, leaning over to place a kiss to your forehead before ducking down and capturing your lips, the kiss was far from innocent but he pulled away before he could get lost in it, knowing he’d have a hard time controlling himself if he didn’t, you were irresistible on a normal day and now that you were wearing his shirt and what he could only assume would be a pair of panties underneath, his desire for you was something else - but he’d never rush you into anything so he pulled away and got comfy under the covers, opening he arms to invite you to cuddle into him.

You peppered a few kisses along his chest and up his neck, as far as you could reach from where you were tucked under his arm. His hand was rubbing up and down your spine, reaching a little lower each time until it ran over your ass, you let out a breath as he turned to face you. He leant over to capture your lips once more, the kiss holding as much passionate and pent up lust as the last. The two of you laid next to each other, exchanging kisses and running your hands over each others bodies until Fred pulled back to press light kisses against your neck. The moan that fell from your lips was so sweet and oh so innocent, and it made his cock pulse with need.

Fred would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about having you laid out beneath him, breathy moans falling from your lips freely as he made love to you. He often imagined the two of you in various scenarios when he lay awake at night in his hotel room, or in the shower after a date, hand wrapped around his cock with thoughts of you on your knees for him, with his hands in your hair and your mouth on his cock, or what it would be like to hear you moan and whimper as he pounded into you. Sometimes he’d wake up in the morning with his cock straining against his boxers, leaking and begging to be touched after a particularly vivid dream of you spread out on his kitchen table screaming his name with his head between your thighs. He knew it was wrong to think of you that way, but he couldn’t help it. You carried a sense of innocence that drew him in and made him want to take it away, he wanted to be the one to show you all the ways a man could make you feel and so when you let his name fall from your lips in a breathy moan - he was hard as a rock without so much as touch to his cock.

You could feel him hot and heavy against your thigh and the thought brought a rush of heat to your cheeks, if it was anyone else you would’ve pulled away but it was Freddie and you don’t think you could ever pull away from his touch. He was the reason for the heat building between your thighs and you couldn’t help yourself as you pulled his body closer to yours. He used his strength to move the two of you until his muscular thigh was between your legs, allowing you to grind your pussy over him, his tight muscles creating the perfect friction and desperate whines fell from your lips as your clit got the pressure it had been begging for.

Freddie immediately noticed your movements and groaned deeply in your ear, shifting his weight slightly so it would be easier for you to grind against him as he reconnected your lips. The new angle allowed his cock to rub against your own thigh and the friction on his sensitive head had him rutting against your body desperately. You were in your own state of euphoria as his tongue continued to fight yours for dominance and your hips moved freely against his toned thigh, your panties undoubtedly soaked through - in fact Fred could feel the damp fabric and just the thought of you dripping wet for him almost sent him over the edge right them and there.

“C’mon baby, cum with me” his voice was deeper than you��d ever heard it and your pussy clenched at his demand. You knew Fred would be dominating in bed, he was dominating in many situations and just because you hadn’t ventured into that part of your relationship didn’t mean you hadn’t spent many nights imagining the things he could do to your body, with his hands, his mouth, his cock. For a split second you thought about trailing your hand down his body and stroking his length but your nerves got the better of you and so you kept your arms wrapped around his neck, gripping onto his shoulders desperately as he continued to kiss you in the way only Fred could.

“Freddie” you whined as his lips found the sweet spot on your neck, the added sensation sending you over the edge. Your orgasm was intense and had you writhing underneath him as his own release followed yours rather quickly. You could feel the deep rumble in his chest as he groaned deeply against your skin. His body fell against yours as both of you came down from your highs, closing your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. A few minutes passed, the only sounds in the room being your heavy breathing before Fred pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek causing you to open your eyes. He was smiling softly at you and you couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your own lips when your eyes met his.

#frederik andersen #frederik andersen imagine #smut #frederik andersen smut #freddie andersen imagine #freddie andersen #nhl imagines

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