#is how close brian and freddie were

[mixedup-sideblog]

41 letters…what the fuck.

The charges listed against Peck:

- SA of a person under 16.

- SA by foreign object.

- SA oral.

- SA with use of anaesthesia or controlled substance.

- Using a minor for SA.

- Sending harmful matter.

Drake Bell was sexually tortured by this man when he was only 15 years old and 41 pieces of shit wrote this kind of crap in support of his abuser….

James Marsden:

“I do intend to shed light on the fact that he has learnt his lesson…the earth would fall from the sky before Brian would think about doing something like this again.”

- ahh don’t worry everyone, James is pretty sure he would never drug and r*pe a child again so let’s just let him off on this one!

Taran Killam:

“Brian is fully aware of his misjudgement and takes full responsibility.”

- poor old Brian making that minor misjudgement when he decided to prey on a child, turn him against his father, against his family, isolate him and groom him then repeatedly SA him. Don’t worry he’s stepping up and taking full responsibility!

Joanna Kerns:

“There must have been some extreme situation or temptation exerted upon him.” and “ I would hire him today to work with children.” And "a good man that made a mistake, not a bad man who got caught."

- see that’s all it was poor Brian could not resist the extreme temptation, of course blame the 15 year old victim not the fucking adult, it’s always the same bullshit from these people I swear.

Ron Melendez:

“I also know the young man…I have met his family, seen his behaviour…I saw him pursue a friendship with Brian, maintain their close ties…Brian made a large mistake but it was not his alone.”

- surprise, more victim blaming, more trivialising. A mistake is forgetting to lock your door or putting salt in your tea instead of sugar…repeatedly r*ping a child is not a fucking mistake - it’s a fucking crime!

Tom DeSanto:

“Brian is ashamed and remorseful about his lapse in judgment.” and “ I met Drake…he seemed very fearful of his father and unable to communicate with him whatever sexual issues he was going through”

- again - broken record here but r*ping a child is not a bloody lapse in judgment! And again - victim blaming and suggesting his family were at fault!

Will Freddie:

“I can only reiterate how devastated Brian is and how these past events have forever changed him.”

- well thank god Brian is so devastated that he got caught - poor thing. The threat of prison probably has ‘forever changed him’ but I’m sure his inability to stop himself from SAing kids has done far more significant damage to his victims (and yes I believe he has more than Drake).

Kimmy Robertson:

“An outrageous, overtly gay, over-sexed person…he totally took advantage of Brian’s willingness to help.”

- the amount of victim blaming in these letters, particularly this one, is just astounding. The 15 year old boy took advantage of the 40 something year old man? Do you really truly believe that Kimmy? I’ll say it again for the billionth time - What. The. Fuck.

And this is just the snippet, there are 34 more letters - all I’m sure are variations of the above examples. The fact that we live in a world where these people not only do and get away with this shit all the time but also are supported so wholeheartedly when they’re exposed for doing it, is quite frankly terrifying.

I do not accept - we did not know the extent of what we were defending as an excuse here. You knew the charges it’s even clear in the letters themselves - you know it’s about the SA of a child (a child some of you even knew personally), you decided to disregard them, defend them or downplay them. You are only coming out now with weak-ass apologies because you have to - in reality you never thought those letters would see the light of day outside the court room.

I’m sorry but the amount of victim blaming, trivialising and excusing here is just more proof to be added to the huge pile of evidence that Hollywood is a cesspit, it does not care about victims, it does not care about children.

If anyone is still in doubt about the amount of systemic CSA in Hollywood please go and watch An Open Secret (whole thing is on YouTube)- a movie that they desperately tried to bury but is just as hard hitting as ‘Quiet on Set.’

#drake bell #brian peck #quiet on set #nickelodeon #kimmy robertson #james marsden #taran killam #joanna kerns #ron melendez #Tom DeSanto #Will Freddie #an open secret #drake and josh #dan schneider #hollywood #rant #letters #so off my usual vibe on this blog but I just watched the doc and my blood is boiling #though I guess my first name for it was ranty side blog so I guess it fits

[magickcandie]

Brian May x Fem!Reader

You and Brian got together quietly. You decided not to tell the band and went by that. You were already friends with Brian and came by quite often, so some things didn’t have to change.

You never thought Roger to be interested in you. Sure he was close, but he seemed close to every one of his friends. That was until Brian pulled you aside one afternoon.

“Please, don’t flirt back with Roger.”

“What? I don’t flirt with him.” You crossed your arms accusingly.

“No, no, you don’t. He does to you. Have you really not noticed?”

You shrugged. “No I guess not. I’ve always been so focused on you. I never -”

“Brimi! I was wondering where you were hiding Y/N. Come dance with me.” Roger appeared around the corner, already tugging on your arm.

Brian raised his eyebrows at you, reaching for your other elbow. “I’m talking with her, Roger. Can’t you just… wait?”

Wait?

“You’re so boring.” He directed to Brian. “Come find me if you actually want to have fun.” Roger disappeared just as quickly as he appeared.

“Oh.”

“Oh.” Brian repeated after you.

“Well we could always tell them? Or at least Roger?”

“No! I just… not yet?”

You shrugged again. “Okay. Well let’s go dance!”

You took Brian by the hand, leading him to where it was most busy. Somehow he thought if there were more people there, less people would be looking at him. Besides, he wasn’t much of a smoker and didn’t drink enough to just sit by the bar.

As the night got older, Roger got drunker, therefore he tried harder.

Brian walked away for moment to help Freddie, who wanted to cry, because he dropped his crown somewhere and couldn’t find it. “Have I ever told you how pretty you are, Y/N?”

“Uh… no?” You took a drink of the watered down alcohol in your glass.

“How come you danced with tree man and not with me? Aren’t I pretty too?”

You kept drinking to stop yourself from laughing. Tree man. “Yes, Rog, you’re pretty. I just want to hang around Bri.”

“Come dance with me.”

This time you let yourself be pulled by Roger. You stood as far back as you could, hands barely on his shoulders and the two of you swayed.

“You’re drunk. I’m sure Fred would let you sleep in one of the rooms. Come on. I’ll take you too bed.”

You helped him wade through the halls to find an unoccupied bedroom. During the walk, you encountered Brian and Freddie (who was looking into a flower pot… that was full to the rim in soil.)

“What are you doing with that poor dear?” Freddie asked you.

“He’s- ”

“Y/N’s going to bed with meee.”

Your eyes went straight to Brian’s, hoping your expression made it clear. Thankfully, you could tell he did understand.

“Well have fun you two.” Freddie waved you off. “Brian… it’s not in the pot.”

You decided to let off a chuckle at that, continuing to drag Roger down the hall. Eventually you found a room, and carefully, as best as you could, helped lay him down.

“I really like you, Y/N.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you say thank you!?”

“Go to sleep,” you said instead, dodging the question.

You stayed with him for the next five minutes before stepping out into the hall. You waited for Brian and almost falling asleep yourself.

“How was he?”

You looked up and saw a tired Brian. He sat down on the floor next to you.

“He’s drunk. I don’t know how much he’ll actually remember.” You leaned against his shoulder. “He called you tree man.”

Brian laced your hands together, and next thing you knew, the two of your were asleep there on the floor.

That next morning, Freddie’s house cleared out except for the occasional people asleep in random places.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” Roger said once you all got together.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you would’ve done the same for me.”

Roger extended his arms out for a hug but you pretended not to notice by stretching and walking past him to talk with Brian.

“Oh come on, Y/N!”

“What?”

“Have you really not noticed any of my advances?” You looked at Brian. “Why do you keep looking at him?”

Brian sighed when you dig your elbow into his side. “Y/N is my girlfriend, Rog.”

It took awhile for the news to reach him. He stood quietly and unmoving.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Bri! I didn’t know, honest.”

“It’s fine, really. We weren’t telling people.” You said.

“Roger, darling! How was your night with Y/N?” Freddie looked to you and the now embarrassed drummer.

“It wasn’t like that.” Roger said quietly.

“No? Then what did happen?”

“Y/N is with Brian.”

It took Freddie the same amount of time as it took Roger. The same blank stare, his eyes darting between the three of you.

“I’m so sorry, loves! I never meant such nasty things. I hope you forgive me.”

“Ah, don’t worry, Fred. We just didn’t want to tell people yet.” Brian said, now comfortably reaching for your hand.

“Well I’m happy for you two.”

“Me too. I think you’ll be good for him.” Roger added to Freddie’s statement.

John made it later in the morning. “I’m sorry for coming so late. Ronnie and I went home last night.”

“Did you know about Brian and Y/N?” Freddie immediately asked.

“Yeah. They weren’t really doing a good job at hiding it. I just didn’t say anything because it seemed like they weren’t telling people.” John shrugged, as if this was news that was well known. He started to make coffee.

You laughed aloud. Of course John knew. Now the entire band knew, and that took off a lot of weight that you two were carrying.

#brian may x reader #roger taylor #freddie mercury #john deacon

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

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#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

Today, on 28th January, 2011

Q Magazine published with Queen 16-page exclusive - May & Taylor Speak! / 'The Unseen Freddie'

Brian May interview (extract)

Who did you have most in common with when Queen first got together?

That’s complicated. We had quite a complex, sort of multi-way interaction. That’s why it worked, really. I was very close to Roger in some ways because we’d already been in a band together. We were – and we are – kind of brothers. We were so close in our aspirations and the way we looked at music, but of course so distant in so many other ways. Like any pair of brothers, we sort of loved and hated each other all along the line. In a way I was very close to Freddie, particularly in the songwriting area. Some of my best times were producing a vocal out of Freddie, sort of coaxing him in various directions.

Did calling the band Queen seem like a good idea to you?

I had reservations but it was very democratic. We had a list of suggested names and Queen had come from Freddie. One of the others was The Grand Dance, which I don’t think would have been very good. Freddie was very much a dandy in those day, Roger was as well. Everyone was into dressing up but it wasn’t an expression of sexuality, it was just an expression of freedom. The most fancy of the peacocks strutting around would get called queens. At the time I didn’t know Freddie was gay and I don’t know if he did either; I think that he was finding himself at that point. So we were aware of all the connotations of the word “queen”, of course, but in a way that was an attraction because part of what we stood for was freedom and equality, whether it’s racial or anything else.

Freddie’s moustache became a part of the band’s iconography. Did it make much of an impression on you at first?

If you want the truth, I think that the only significant thing was the music.

Would you say that how you each appeared in the video for 1984’s I Want To Break Free was an accurate reflection of your personalities?

Of course! Everybody thinks that was Freddie’s idea because it looks like something that he would love to do but it actually came from Roger’s girlfriend at the time, strangely enough. It was her idea to pastiche the Coronation Street women.

Was it her idea to have Roger dress up as a schoolgirl?

I think that was probably his idea [laughs].

Did you have any idea that Queen’s 1986 Knebworth show would be the last time that you all played live together?

No. Freddie said something like, “Oh I can’t f***ing do this any more”, but he normally said things like that at the end of a tour so I don’t think we took it seriously. “My whole body’s wracked with pain!”

Roger said that he never had a cross word with Freddie. Did you?

I never did either. I think that’s an odd juxtaposition with Freddie’s image of being a prima donna. Actually he was the great diplomat and if there were arguments between us Freddie usually was able to sort them out.

When you learned that Freddie was dying did you want to continue recording?

Yeah. He loved being in the studio and I think right up to the end that was his greatest escape. He was singing vocals when he couldn’t even stand. He’d prop himself up against the desk, knock a couple of vodkas down and go for it. The very last time we ever did that, me and him, was singing Mother Love, which is one of my favourite tracks on Made In Heaven. He never finished that. He said, “Oh Brian, I can’t do any more. I’m dying here” [laughs]. He never seemed to let it get him down.

Did you find those final sessions upsetting?

We developed such a great closeness as a band that they were actually quite joyful times. The thing is, there’s always a big element of disbelief. Yes, we knew the prognosis but I didn’t think we quite believed that it could happen to Freddie. He’s Freddie, after all. He’s invincible. So when the news finally came it was a real bolt from the blue.

Did you get to say goodbye to Freddie?

We were with him a lot in the final days but it wasn’t a question of saying goodbye, it was a question of just sharing a moment. I remember an occasion when he was lying in bed and he couldn’t see out into his garden very well. We were talking about his plants, which he loved. Actually Anita [Dobson, whom May married in 2000] and I were there. He said, “Guys, don’t feel like you have to entertain me. Just you being here is what’s important and I’m enjoying that.” So I think, in a way, that was him – amazingly – finding acceptance of the way things were. So, no, the word “goodbye” didn’t happen but we reached a very peaceful place.

Is it difficult for you because I’m thinking of Freddie Mercury, the great rock frontman, but to you, above all, he’s your deceased friend?

It is. One of my hardest moments was unveiling the statue of Freddie in Montreux [1996]. Obviously it’s a very nice tribute and the ceremony was very moving but I just suddenly became overcome by anger. I thought, “This is all that’s left of my friend and everybody’s thinking it’s normal and fabulous but it’s actually awful that I’m looking at a piece of bronze which is … [sighs] the image of my friend and my friend’s not here any more.”

What went through your mind when David Bowie started saying the Lord’s Prayer at the Freddie Mercury tribute concert?

What the f**k is he doing? [laughs] It hadn’t been rehearsed. I suppose it would have been nice if he had told us but maybe it was truly spontaneous. I never had that conversation with him afterwards.

When did you last see John Deacon?

Oh, a long time ago. He’s very private now and he communicates by emails when there’s a business discussion, but that’s it.

(➡️ source: brianmay.com website)

📸 In this pic: 1981 - Freddie Mercury posing

Photo by © Lord Snowdon

#lord snowdon #2011 #interview #zanzibar #legend #queen #brian may #john deacon #freddiebulsara #london #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #q magazine #photosession 1981 #1981

[obsessivelollipoplalala]

Queen + Adam Lambert in Philadelphia on October 18, 2023

Well, that was one of the best experiences of my life! These are my thoughts (pictures and videos will go in separate posts):

I loved how much the entire thing really was a production. It wasn't simply people standing there and playing/singing songs, you could tell every aspect of the show was well-thought-out with set pieces, costume changes, and basically a light show.

I sat in a section on the side that was pretty close to the stage. When they were performing on the main stage, I was able to see everyone pretty clearly, and Spike turned to us and told us to clap sometimes. When Brian and Adam went down the catwalk, their backs were to us. That meant Brian’s back was to us during LOML, but I got a clear view of the whole arena lit up with everyone’s phones. It was beautiful, and the people around us were commenting on how moving it was, too.

Let’s expand upon that: My sister isn’t even in the fandom, but even she said how beautiful LOML was, and how the whole show feels like an homage to Freddie even during the parts when he’s not explicitly mentioned. She said she had a cheesy moment where she was standing there while Adam sang “Who Wants to Live Forever” (which had beautiful rainbow lights), and she thought of Freddie and said to herself, “This is what it means for someone to live forever.” It really is. You really feel like you’re part of this experience of keeping Queen and Freddie alive, and people are so fucking stupid to accuse Brian and Roger of merely cashing in. Even my sister said they have enough money for 3 lifetimes, and are obviously doing it because they love it. Anyway, LOML was genuinely a moving experience, hearing Brian sing and to look out into a sea of lights, and towards the very end of the show, they played Freddie’s vocal call-and-response with the crowd from Wembley, and I did get emotional seeing how Freddie still had a crowd eating out of the palm of his hand +30 years after his death. It made me really wish he was still here.

Adam: You know, I didn’t dislike Adam before this, but my sister and I agreed that we have a newfound respect for him. He’s an incredible performer. When you actually hear him sing live for 2 hours, you realize what Brian means when he talks about Adam’s voice being a gift and everything. His voice was so strong and clear, not a single sour or weak note. These are notoriously difficult songs to sing, but he really nailed them. Adam is also a really charming, likable performer, too. He has fantastic energy and often comes off as very playful. He was delightfully campy as he applied powder and perfume in “Killer Queen.” You can tell he’s having the time of his life, and he took a moment to talk to the audience and say how lucky he is to be in his 10th year of performing with them. Also, his outfits were amazing. He wore glittery boots that looked 12 feet high lol

Brian and Roger: I always knew they were incredible musicians, but god, actually seeing them perform really drives it home. You do have this moment like, “…Damn, they’re really up there playing all of that.” My eyes kept going back and forth between watching Brian on stage, and watching the quick and intricate movements of his fingers up on the screen. 

Brian was wonderful during LOML, despite his back being to us. His voice was warm, and he told us to sing the song to everyone we’ve lost. “‘39” was fun. I loved his solo section. He was way up on a pedestal with a screen to make it look like he was standing on an asteroid, and bright, colorful planets descended from the ceiling and floated around him as he played a calmer melody. It was so lovely. Again, my sister isn’t in the fandom but after the show, she commented that while Roger doesn’t seem like a bad guy, there’s just something approachable, likable, and nice about how Brian came across on stage :’)

Roger was still great, too. I really don’t know where the fuck he finds the energy to still be that good at the drums in his 70s, and even though I don’t like “I’m in Love With My Car” as a song, it’s still objectively impressive to watch him sing and drum for it at the same time. With him and Brian, I can’t comprehend how they’re still doing this. I feel exhausted just from standing there and watching them lmao, but they’ve still got it in their mid 70s. You can tell this is just what they were born to do, and tbh watching how completely they throw themselves into a performance, and picturing them doing that night after night for several months on end on and off for like 15 years……yeah, I see why they had so many personal issues and their domestic lives fell apart lol. I’m not even trying to be mean, I just think something’s gotta give when you’re doing that kind of work, and that’s not even mentioning any harmful aspect of the rock ‘n’ roll party culture. Anyway, the point is that it’s crazy that they’re still able to do this and give it their all, and I’m so happy I got to see them do their thing.

Finally, Brian came out in a Philadelphia Phillies T-shirt during the encore, and my sister and I screamed lol

10/10. What a night. I think Freddie would be so proud to see his work not only being carried on, but how Brian and Roger (and their team, of course) are still adding things to the production to keep it all fresh and give it their 110%.

#Queen #Queen band #queen + adam lambert #brian may #roger taylor #adam lambert

[michelle-is-writing]

Nerve, Roger Taylor

Word Count: 1.6k~

I have never minded going to any of the band’s recordings. I actually enjoy going to them. Watching as all the boys go back and forth over their music is something I marvel at. I can't help but stare at each of them in awe as I watch the pure creativity and passion flow through them. Both Deaky and Brian are masters at their guitars, and Freddie’s voice alone could probably bring a whole crowd to tears. However, Roger’s drumming is probably what I tune into most. How could I not? He’s the man I love that also happens to be insanely hot when he’s slamming his fists down on the drums.

The only complaint I have is over the weather currently. Christmas is in three weeks, so the weather in England consists of rain one day and snow the next and vice versa. Knowing this, it absolutely baffles me how I managed to forget a heavy coat when we left this morning and instead grabbed a light sweater. Walking into the recording studio was enough for me to shiver, but now that I’m sitting in a building with a heater that shuts on and off every five minutes, my hands are almost numb and my teeth can’t stay apart for five seconds.

“You alright, darling?” Roger’s voice pipes up as he walks over from his drum set. “You a bit cold?” He further asks, sitting beside me as I uncurl myself from the side of the couch and into his open arms. I have been waiting for this moment for the past hour.

“The heater doesn’t work; I can hear it switch on and off every now and then,” I explain, nuzzling my cold face into Roger’s neck. He doesn’t pull away when I do this, and instead, pulls me closer as he moves his head to rest atop mine. Another thing I love about going to the rehearsals with Roger is when he gets a few minutes to relax, but in place of doing just that, he holds me close and doesn’t let go until he has to do so. Perhaps this is his way of relaxing.

Hearing Roger give a small hum, I turn my head up at him and look at him curiously. “Will my jumper be okay for now?” Roger asks, pulling away to look back at me.

Frowning, I shake my head at him. “No,” I tell him, “Then you’ll get cold, and I don’t want that to happen.”

Roger smiles. “No, I won’t,” He assures me, taking his jumper off to reveal his bright orange button-up underneath it. Of course, the first three buttons are undone and the majority of his upper chest is exposed, but thankfully, there isn’t anybody here that’ll stare at the sight before me. “I’ll be fine, love,” Roger states, slipping the abstract-pattern covered sweater over my head and onto my arms. His actions make me smile, and upon taking my eyes off his hands and back onto his face, I see him staring back at me with his caring smile. “I just want to make sure you’re warm.”

His words alone make me feel warm within my chest as they show the true gentle Roger I know and love. The boys don’t get to see this side too much as he rarely ever reveals this side of him outside of just our company. Yes, they see him caring for me and the band in general, but if any of the guys forgot their coat and got cold, he’d laugh and call them some name that relates to stupidity.

Just as we both lean into each other once more and press our lips together, Freddie shouts from the recording booth. “Rog, get in here! And stop trying to ruin our couch!” He yells, making me laugh as Roger looks over at Freddie through the glass with a seemingly mad face. “You too, (Y/n)!”

Now it’s both me and Roger looking at Freddie with furrowed eyebrows and straight lips. The boys only laugh at this before Roger gets back up and heads into the booth, but not before leaning down and giving me a quick kiss on my forehead. It’s something he knows I love, just like I know he likes his neck being kissed.

It only takes mere seconds for everyone to get into their groove before playing one of their songs. Freddie sings to the angels while Deaky and Brian play their instruments like they’ve been doing such a thing ever since they were brought into the world. Like before, Roger plays the drums with the beat flowing through him and onto the drums before him with his arms slamming down on them in an almost graceful manner. Once again, I can’t take my eyes off of him.

However, at the same time, it only takes a few seconds for me to realize Roger giving me his sweater might not have been the best idea. With every movement of his arms and chest, the already tight shirt hugs him even more with the buttons struggling against the holes they’re in. Not to mention the top three buttons of the shirt are already undone, therefore putting his upper chest on display as well. I don’t know if I should give his sweater back and deprive myself of this view, or if I should keep the sweater and keep watching the scene before me.

The boys play for only a few seconds before the lights flicker and all of the power goes out, which ultimately makes the faulty heater stop working completely. Followed by the sound of their instruments growing lower are the boys’ groans of frustration in response to this. They need to get the album done by next week, and they’ve been recording for only a few hours now. Needless to say, it’s very frustrating for everyone.

“It always does this during snow storms,” the recording manager states with a small sigh. “I’ll go check the breakers,” He adds, standing from his chair and leaving the room. Once he’s gone, the boys leave the booth and head into the room with me.

“This is a bunch of bullocks,” Brian groans, sitting down at the sound bar as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Deacy agrees and sits next to him with a small sigh leaving his lips. Meanwhile, Freddie continues on with a smile and resumes practicing his vocals as he walks to the nearby piano.

On the other hand, Roger doesn’t have a chance to say anything when he sits next to me as I’m quickly yanking his jumper off and handing it to him. As soon as he sees me take it off, he gives me a weird and confused look. Even as I hold it out to him, he doesn’t take it.

“Here, baby, take your sweater back,” I murmur, looking away from his chest and up to his bewildered face. After a few moments, he speaks up, almost concerned.

“Why? Does it smell?” He asks, taking the sweater from my hands and up to his nose. “I didn’t think it smelled that much. I barely even broke a sweat during the first few songs,” Roger continues, still not grasping the fact that that’s not my current issue right now.

“No, it doesn’t stink, love,” I assure him, flashing him a smile before leaning my head up toward him. My cheeks slowly turn pink as I contemplate my next words. “It’s just… seeing you in that tight shirt makes me want to jump you right here in front of everyone,” I explain, taking a daring move by hiding in his hair all while pressing soft kisses to the skin of his neck.

Roger doesn’t stop me in my actions, and instead, he moves to hide me a bit more all while holding me even closer to him. “Babe, the guys are here,” he murmurs, but it’s clear that even he isn’t wanting me to stop going by the smirk evident in his voice.

“But I need you,” I tell him, leaning away from his neck and up to his ear. Sliding my hands to the tight shirt he wears, my fingers glide against the silk-like material as I move to face him. “You can’t tease me like this with your tight-as-hell shirt,” at my comment, Roger smirks, showing me he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Imagine if I wore that tight black dress of mine and didn’t allow you to touch me. How would you feel?”

A few seconds pass before his hands tighten around my waist, a now less-cocky look filling Roger's face. “I guess that means I need to take care of my girl, then, huh?” Roger teases, causing my breath to get caught in my throat.

Staring at Roger in front of me, a giddy feeling washes over me in response to his words, reminding me of my teenage years when particular mundane things seemed so exciting. With a small nod, I stand up after him and head to the door, his arm quickly wrapping itself around me as soon as I’m within reach. Walking past the guys, I pray that they don’t catch onto what we’re doing, but our hurried pace and almost excited expressions kind of give it away.

“Don’t be too loud!” Freddie yells as soon as we reach the door, making my already red cheeks somehow darken, but Roger isn’t bothered by his words at all.

“No one’s ever told you to be quiet, Freddie!” Roger shouts to Freddie one last time before opening the door for me and following me into the hall. At this point, I'm certain the guys are used to things like this... unfortunately.

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x fem!reader #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor imagines #roger taylor #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy imagines #ben hardy #ben jones #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x fem reader #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody x reader #bohemian rhapsody imagine #bohemian rhapsody #queen imagines #queen imagine #queen x reader #queen

[freddieraimbow74]

March 30, 1974

Record Mirror Publishes a Queen article

By: Genevieve Hall

Sophisticratic rock - Genevieve Hall gets a dressing down from Queen

Fire and brimstone, the gnashing of teeth and all of hell’s fury, is nothing compared to the anger and wrath of Queen.

It was the first journalist they’d encountered after having had their new album Queen II slagged off unmercifully in most of the music papers. Plus the fact that one particular journal had analytically delved into the depths of hype using Queen and Merlin as their prime examples.

So was it any wonder that all their embittered feelings of outrage, hurt, anger and frustration poured out like hot lava from an erupted volcano?

Lead guitarist Brian May picked up the paper and waves it under my nose. “This article is the biggest load of rubbish I’ve ever read in my life”, he declares vindictively.

“Look, there are people going to read this article - some of them won’t have heard of Merlin and some of them won’t know us. The headline screams out commercial pop. They’ve printed a very old picture of us, which we hate, looking extremely poppy, and underneath it is the word HYPE. The whole article says in a suggestive way that Queen are a hype.”

𝐇𝐲𝐩𝐞:

“To be honest it looks to us like a put-up job. They say we’re a put-up job. I say that’s a put-up job, and the reasons are that this paper completely ignored us all the time we were going around on the road building up a following. We draw about a minimum of a thousand people a night for the last God knows how many months and they all know where we’re at.

“This paper completely ignored us and so now that we’ve got to the position where our records are taking off and we’re in the public eye. Now we’ve got to that position without the help of the music papers, they can’t really admit that we’re good, they have to suggest we’re a hype or something.”

Is that how you really see it? I asked.

“That’s exactly how we think it is,” joined in their drummer Roger Taylor. “Supported by the fact that they’ve compared us to a totally new band who we’ve never even heard of. We don’t want to say anything against them, but, apparently they’re just a straight pop band. Whereas we’ve been playing and working up to this for years. Christ, I’m 24, Brian’s 25, Freddie is 27, John’s a bit younger 23. Plus the fact that we’re all intelligent enough not to want to be put across in that way. We want to put out music first.”

Is it coming first? I asked, we appear to be getting a giant-sized image with the music running a close second.

“That’s only ‘cos we want to put our music across in the most striking and entertaining way. We want to make an impact. Surely that’s what it’s all about - entertaining.

“And that’s another thing,” he continues, “They’ve given the impression that someone’s said to us, ‘here’s a load of money boys, go down to Carnaby Street and get yourselves some clothes.

“Freddie and I used to sell old clothes. In fact Freddie used to design and MAKE our stage costumes. We’ve always taken care to make sure that our clothes are just right and look good. Perhaps they’d prefer it if we went on in dirty jeans, but we don’t really think the public want to look at that. I think they’d rather see something that looks good.”

Their lead vocalist Freddie Mercury (the aristocratic one) reads aloud with indignation the parody of a hype lead singer, and comes to a part where it says that hype bands employ writers to pen their instant hit singles.

“Now how the hell do they think we fall into that category? They haven’t done any homework. They’ve even called John our bassist our drummer. They haven’t even bothered to find out what we’re really about.

“Everyone seems to object if you’re playing what you think is serious and the kids buy it, they can’t understand it.

“Well we’ve definitely had no Chinn and Chapman behind us,” Roger bursts out, “every song we’ve do is planned by us, including our album sleeves” (note the famous Queen crest designed by Freddie).

𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝:

“We even have control on which tracks we want released. In fact out of all the bands, I think we’re the most uncontrolled.”

“Exactly,” says Freddie, “That’s why this article is a complete farce and nowhere near the truth.”

OK - so how come they’re able to obtain this uncontrolled freedom?

It was Brian who answered. “Because the record companies desperately wanted us in the beginning. I know it sounds like blowing our own trumpet, but it’s true. We made demo tapes and everyone thought they were good and wanted us. They realised they were in competition with each other. So in the end we were able to settle for a deal which enabled us to dictate a bit.”

You can’t deny that you’ve been getting preferential treatment over a lot of equally good bands, I said glancing around at their specially provided de-luxe van, which had been given to them at the beginning of their British tour.

“Ah wait a minute,” says Roger. “It wasn’t until our record company realised we were succeeding before they started giving us the big treatment. At first EMI printed 5,000 copies of our first album and much to their surprise they had to reprint that number five times over. So naturally when we made our second album, they felt justified in a lot of work behind it. Which is really why there’s been enough copies in the shops to put it into the charts in the first week.”

“Yes, but any record company if they’ve got any sense is going to do that,” says Freddie, “it looks like we’re getting knocked for having the right people around us doing their jobs properly.”

Is that a large part of their success - having the right people doing the right job?

“No”, answered Roger, “that comes after. Our success is due to us being a bloody good band and also having common sense - ‘cos there a lot of bloody good bands around - to get things managed properly. But even so we wouldn’t have had the support of the people if they hadn’t believed in us in the first place.”

And now over to Freddie. “People think that if there’s a lot of money put behind a band and they seem to make it quicker than usual, then they’re a hype. But we’ve geared ourselves to jump a few hurdles and have benefited by doing so.” He glances down at his picture.

“Oh really,” he exclaims in disgust, “this paper has no flair - I mean to print this picture three times in succession … and just look at my arms!” He was horrified, “look at how fat they appear, now my arms aren’t like that at all - what do you think?”

He rolls up his sleeves for me to inspect and I’d like to state here and now that the poor dear’s arms are quite, quite slender!

𝐑𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝-𝐎𝐟𝐟:

Phew! If after all that you think that the lads are hypersensitive to criticism and feel animosity towards their critics, then let Roger put you straight.

“No, we don’t hold grudges - we just go round and wrench people’s arms and legs off. Or send them bags of wet cement, nothing too violent!”

By this time John Deacon (who reminded me of the Alice’s doormouse) had woken from his slumbers (too many late nights and early mornings), he was reasonably cheerful for someone who had had his clothes ripped off the day before.

“By the law of averages,” he was saying, “it’s someone else’s turn to be ripped off today.”

You talk to him about the success of their Queen II album and he says, “It’s all our Mums and hype.” He’s a lot quieter than the other three, but can’t help warming to him as he’s completely unpretentious.

Freddie is a pretty dynamic character, he has an air of confidence which can sometimes be mistaken for arrogance. He has hair the colour of midnight, luminous brown eyes which he makes look evil with skillful use of make-up. He speaks ever so nicely (don’t you dear?) with the superfluous use of his hands, and commands attention rather than demands it.

Brian’s the tallest one and has a shock of dark curls which bring out the green flecks in his lucent grey eyes. He’s the thoughtful considerate one, and it’s a joy listening to him arguing with Roger.

And Roger - well he’s the pretty one with a sense of fun. He doesn’t look capable of busting a gut over a set of drums, but once he gets that adrenaline moving - the guy goes berserk.

𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫:

Music wise, Queen are a heavy electric rock band - but not raucous. There’s a fair amount of melodic structure incorporated in their material, which contains complex harmonies and could quite easily become messy was it not skillfully honed to precision. They’re exciting to listen to and watch, and have the good sense to capture rather than rupture the senses. The only word which describes their musical finesse is SOPHISTICATION.

After their British tour which climaxes at the Rainbow Theatre, Queen will take their ‘sophisticratic’ rock for a two-month stateside tour. Their opening night will be in Denver, Colorado, where they appear on the same bill as Mott the Hoople. I don’t know about the rest of you - but I’ve always been a right sucker for royalty.

Picture from article

#freddie mercury #queen band #brian may #roger taylor #jhon deacon #j’adore #musique #music #queen #original character

[eileen-crys]

Hi! First of all, I'm SO happy for you that you got to meet Ratty, I'm sure he loved your amazing drawing😁💕 Did he ever mention Veronica, or John's family in general? Or anything closer to his style of living, especially how it changed in the 80s? :)

Thank you hun! Ahh I really wanted to ask him about how it was to tour bringing their families/wives/kids along, but sadly I didn't get any occasion for it 😔

He mentioned John's children while talking briefly about Live Aid, he said before it the band was very close to splitting because Freddie, Brian and Roger were busy with solo projects and drifting apart, and John was very busy with his family. I didn't record it but he said something like "He was taking care of four, five children at home and wasn't easy" but Live Aid injected new life in the band to work together again. (We know it was four kids haha)

Then, when asked, he said he used to have the closest bond with John. Sure he worked for both, but "because Freddie was gay and used to go out at night to other places he stayed with John and spent more time with him." He praised John as "very quiet and very intelligent, he was an extraordinary musician." He basically went on a little tangent to praise John 🥰

[theprophetsaid]

it's so irritating to me when people claim that brian is making up/exaggerating how close he was with freddie... just because there's not as many explicit quotes from freddie on brian and these people can't read between the lines or do any sort of research for themselves. brian's love for freddie shines through every word he speaks about that man, and somehow a group of random kids can't believe that brian was close with freddie before they ever made it with their music and when they were just good friends with a dream.

of course brian isn't perfect (e.g. his comments on how queen would be forced to have a transgender member if they had formed today, him being against the brit awards getting rid of gendered categories), but to call him racist and homophobic is such a low and baseless accusation.

in any case, i feel that brian is more (and honestly a bit validly) against the jumping to conclusions and forced righteousness that some people take up rather than diversity itself. i get the sense even that he's a bit against the modern categorizing when for him, it was very natural to work with freddie and to love him for who he was without much thought (quote: "He was a musician, he was our friend, he was our brother. We didn’t have to stop and think: ‘Ooh, now, should we work with him? Is he the right color? Is he the right sexual proclivity?’ None of that happened, and now I find it frightening that you have to be so calculating about everything."). of course i see the world a bit differently, but brian comes from a very different time and background.

he's always been a great supporter of the lgbtq community, championed aids awareness, and truly loved and understood freddie's strengths and insecurities. it literally drives me crazy when people say there's no evidence that freddie liked brian or was close to him.

I'll keep this very brief.

Anyone who denies that Freddie and Brian were close friends who loved each other is a spiteful clown. Their connection has nothing to do with Brian's unfortunate tendency of putting his foot in his mouth from time to time (mind you, Freddie had no filter at all). And this tendency doesn't undermine his decades-long advocacy for AIDS victims and queer rights.

#answered //

[twotitsjohndecaon]

In Only Seven Days

In honor of our man John Richard Deacon being born on August the 19th 1951, I got a little somethin happy birthday king

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: drinking, language I think, lil bit of drama but lots of cutesy stuff, and sexy times again not too bad but 18+ nonetheless

MONDAY

Interview Monday. Recording Tuesday. Clean the flat Wednesday. Record Thursday. Record Friday. Sit around and get nothing done in the studio Saturday. And then photoshoot and listen to Roger complain about his insipid “drum sound” Sunday. 

John was stuck in a draining cycle. Of course, there were exciting moments of respite like a party or or concert every once in a while, but those had grown few and far between as of late, and John couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone and gotten a drink, or Hell, even smiled beyond the flash of a false nicety to the studio’s secretary every morning, and that was just so he wouldn’t seem like a complete dick. 

It was a miserable, rainy, English Friday night when the sun had set unreasonably early and Brian’s whining about wanting more of a guitar solo had finally pushed John over the edge. The next morning he immediately looked for a flight in the phone book to the farthest place away possible, which seemingly just so happened to be the island of Bali. The cost was massive, but with buzzwords like “sun” and “far” John couldn’t find it in him to care. By Sunday evening, a suitcase was packed and a brief note was left on his bass guitar, leaving the others with not much beyond a simple “hasta la vista.”

And so, Monday, after a long but relaxing Freddie-less and Roger-lacking flight (with a touch of Brian-emptiness), and a simple taxi ride and check in to the resort (which he assumed was a result of the large sum he had thrown to some B-class travel agent) John felt something beautiful and serene: freedom, even if it was just for this one week. Eyes weighed heavy, body un-tensing upon a soft mattress, pillow chocolates tossed carelessly aside, and a balmy heat surrounding him, John finally allowed himself to relax.

***

You could hardly believe your luck. Every quarter, your work held a raffle for the employees where they gave away something nice to a winner chosen at random. Gift cards, a new TV set, and good department store discounts were the typical sort of prizes. But this time, the winnings were bigger. A weeks holiday for one at a resort in Bali. It was more expensive than the usual prizes, but you supposed since the holidays weren’t so far off it made sense that they’d bulk up the winnings. You hadn’t expected to win, really, you never had with any of the other items before. But here you were, one week later in Bali. You were quite happy. You didn’t know much about the island, but who were you to turn down a week of relaxation?  A week of beach, sun, drinks, and massages were of no complaint, and you were sure you’d leave satisfied by the end of it all. Everything between traveling and checking in had gone smoothly, as per arranged by your work, and after a nice dinner in the hotel you sunk into bed. The vacation really would be nice. It had been a stressful quarter; you deserved it. It was easy to fall asleep dreaming about an upcoming week of nothing.

TUESDAY

It was all really nice. Relaxing, just like you’d thought. After a wonderful breakfast and glorious morning in the spa, you decided to soak up some sun, a rarity in November, and headed down to the beach. The hotel had its own reserved section of the beach with canopies and chairs set up, but you decided to go the more bohemian route of laying on your towel in the sand. You closed your eyes, soaking up the rays, feeling recharged already. You weren’t sure how long you had been lying there for before you opened your eyes, blinking harshly at the light reflecting upon the water as your vision returned to normal. Once you could see you lazily took. In your surroundings. Then you noticed him. 

A man around your age, with perfect brown hair staring at you. Typically when men stared at you (especially older men and especially when you were in a bikini) it made you quite uncomfortable, a low predatory gaze directed your way, but this man’s eyes read the complete opposite, and there wasn’t any way you could know that except for that you just did. Maybe it was how his eyes weren’t raking over you like a possession, but rather like a fascination of a piece of art, how you’d look at the Mona Lisa. There wasn’t anything but genuine in his gaze, like he had known you fondly and forever. You couldn’t say you were reciprocating, maybe you were trying to, but you were a bit too transfixed. He was cute, handsome, and even if he had been looking your way in a more typically male fashion it wouldn’t have been an invitation you would have necessarily turned away. But it was more than that, and even though you could have sworn you had never seen this man in your life, he nearly could’ve convinced you that you had. The intensity, and unexpectedness of this moment had made you feel something, perhaps not a butterfly fluttering in your stomach, but maybe a chrysalis or a caterpillar at the very least. Then your eyes met, just for a second, and wanting to show that his gaze was welcome, you gave him a smile, a big one which flew onto your face on its own accord. He smiled back, a bit nervous but you could both understand that this was an uncommon but special moment for the both of you. 

But then, moment over. Somebody’s kid ran past screaming, kicking sand all over the place, covering your hair which you had really wanted to stay clean. The moment was broken, and you sighed, quickly dusting yourself off before standing and shaking off your towel. You planned to give the man another smile, one that silently commented on the situation, but you couldn’t see him any longer when you looked again. It was still very bright, so you shaded your eyes, scanning the promenade left to right, and right to left, but nothing. He was gone, almost like a sweet figment of your imagination. You sighed and walked back to your room to take a shower before dinner.

***

Silence was a gift. A glorious gift that John had bought for himself through this trip. It was everything he needed. And he found himself on the beach minutes after his late breakfast (more brunch— he deserved to sleep in). Ensuring he was properly sun protected (thanks to his pasty British winter complexion, he was susceptible to burning), he headed down for a full day at the beach. He would poke around the hotel later; he had plenty of time for that. As he reclined in one of the chairs which the resort had set out, he only heard the deep and true push and pull of waves, and the calming distant chatter of others. In and out of dozing, he had to have been there for hours when he felt a bit parched, and intended to get up for a drink, something fancy, he had in mind. But then he saw her.

She was the most beautiful woman to ever exist, there was no doubt about it. A short circuit shot and fired in his brain, and his senses turned to mush from no result of being in the sun too long. She simply strolled out closer to the water and laid out her towel, perfectly, and laid down. It was effortless and eternal, her existence seemingly solely to captivate John. The quiet that had overtaken him earlier which he so desperately wanted was gone, replaced by a million screams of disbelief and yearning.

He felt like he knew her, that they were meant to be and connected. That the universe had perfectly designed this moment just for him for something wonderful he must have done. If that were the case, he would thank the universe every day of his life from now on. All thoughts of getting a drink were gone as he was glued to his chair, but in an upright position, looking at her, probably quite obviously and maybe creepily. But he couldn’t move or do anything but admire.

This had never happened to him before. There were people John had been attracted to before from fleeting looks, sure, but never one with such a physical and visceral reaction. He didn’t know why either; it’s like everything that needed to work, every box that could possibly need to be checked off simply was and beyond. 

Then, she stood up, and somehow, looked at him. John froze further, somehow becoming liquid, frozen solid, and feeling light as air at the same time. She smiled. He smiled back, but not as good as hers was. 

Then the moment was over. Everything came crashing back, reality, sense, and social awareness, and he realized how big of a fool of himself he must have just made. Before the sand could clear and the most recent wave could be pulled back out to sea, John panicked and scurried away. He couldn’t spare a glance back. Breaking out into a sweat unrelated to the tropical heat, he quickly ran back to his room, where maybe he would just spend the rest of the trip now. 

But no, after a shower and cooling down and finally getting that drink (although he just ordered one to his room instead of going to the bar like he wanted) he came to his senses a bit.

Instant physical attraction, just a small crush, that’s all it was. This happened all the time to… everyone, really. John shook his head to himself, opening his balcony window to sit on the porch and enjoy the sunset with his drink. He was being silly. It was a bit strange he had such a reaction, but he had simply found a woman attractive. Nothing wrong with that. In fact, it had been a while for him. It was probably that, and a mixture of being tired from travel and the heat. He shouldn’t overthink it. This holiday was just for relaxing, so he closed his eyes once more, and that’s what he did.

WEDNESDAY

John somewhat shamefully admitted to himself by the end of the day that he had gone a bit out of his way to find her again. But no luck. He tried the beach, but she wasn’t there, but to be fair he went at a different time today than yesterday. Nothing in the restaurant, but maybe she ate dinner early, and nothing at the bar. And then the entire day had passed by and John realized how silly he had been searching for her all day instead of enjoying his vacation. So he booked a late night massage, ordered extra pillow chocolates to his room which he gorged upon while watching mindless TV, and then fell asleep. Relaxing like he wanted. But he couldn’t push the thought out of his head anymore once his head hit the pillow. He hoped that he would see her again, tomorrow, ever, he didn’t mind. He just needed to see her again, to confirm to himself that he had in fact just been acting silly and it was just a crush. That’s what he told himself. But really he knew deep down it’s because he needed to see her again. But that would have to wait for tomorrow.

***

Maybe he really had been a figment of your imagination. No luck at the beach, bar, or restaurant, or even in the spa, and you may have accidentally on purpose walked past the men’s pool changing room to peer in just in case (unfortunately for you that resulted in seeing way too much potential-naked-old-man). So you sighed and booked yourself a pedicure, which was soothing, and had your dinner, which was lovely, and headed down to the bar for a second time.

It wasn’t particularly crowded for a Wednesday evening, but you supposed that made sense. You had some nice drinks, mostly kept to yourself, talked to the bartender a bit, and then a nice man came up to you. He was attractive, and you’d normally entertain the both of you for at least a little bit before you decide to dive in or cut it off, but you didn’t even let it get that far this time.  He was nice and good looking, but he wasn’t that other man. It seemed ridiculous of you to turn down advances like you were already in a relationship, but something didn’t feel right. The moment on the beach the other day felt too unresolved to have anything else happen with, well, anyone. So you gave stiff answers and turned away quickly from the man, and he got the message and wandered off. You finished your drinks and headed back to your room. Where was he? And why did you want to see him so badly again? You couldn’t answer, though, as your eyes grew heavy from all of the thinking, all of the running around looking for him, and from the tinge of alcohol coursing through your system. 

THURSDAY

Another day of relaxation, or at least an attempt to. The encounter with the man still pervaded your thoughts, although maybe a little less as time went on. Good. Probably. No use dwelling over it. You thought to yourself in the morning why this was sticking with you so much. Maybe it was just the intensity. No one had ever looked at you so thoroughly before, and it made you feel hungry to be understood. It was a particular glance, something you’d remember fondly and mention to your friends a bit off hand and more casually than what was actually warranted. You’d leave out the part about obsessing over it for days, or maybe you’d add that in to the anecdote humorously, because classic Y/N, always creating an extreme romance-Disney-Princess-love-at-first-sight scenario in your head. 

Or maybe you wouldn’t mention it, because it still felt too big and special to comprehend. You really couldn’t process why this was on your mind so harshly. You tried to put it aside a bit, still there in the back of your nagging conscious, but not at the forefront, which would have to do. 

Since this was on your mind on some level, however, it made you too present to completely space out and mindlessly enjoy the pampering, so you were all too aware of the monotony of your vacation routine. 

Not like there was much else to do. So you sucked it up and did the same stuff as you did the day before and before, and it was fine, and then you found yourself in the bar again, a mid-level conversation in with the bartender, and a few drinks down, enough for a bit of a buzz but nothing where you weren’t completely aware of your surroundings. The conversation died down with the bartender after a few more people came in and he had to take their orders, leaving you stirring your drink. You sighed, looking to see who had come in, and saw no one special. A middle aged couple, an elderly couple, another middle aged couple… there was certainly a type that the resort attracted. And it seemed like no one was there alone besides you either. Well, besides one other. But maybe he—, no, probably— he had a girlfriend too, she was just out of sight for the moment. Maybe you had confused the entire situation and were an idiot. You stirred your drink again. Took a sip. Looked up again. And there, right in front of you, he was.

***

John stupidly (he assumed) spent his entire day looking for you again while disguising it as taking part in a normal vacation. He didn’t look very much harder, or very well he suspected, as he simply checked the same spots (though he was on time for the beach today) and had no luck. Spa, beach, restaurant, beach, lobby, beach, nothing, until he called it quits and decided to finally get that drink at the bar he had been holding off since Tuesday. He freshened himself up a bit, making himself for presentable for the venue, and made his way down, giving up a little bit in his mind at finding you, which was deeply disappointing but a bit comforting as it was a load off of his mind. 

But then everything was rushing back. He walked in, and saw you there, stirring your drink so brilliantly, and every seemingly ridiculous little desperation that had plagued him about you for the past couple of days came rushing back to him. 

You sat in a perfect, casual yet formal warm weather dress, stirring what looked to be some extravagant fruit cocktail, looking a bit bored, definitely alone and with no one else. You couldn’t possibly be in a relationship if you were at the bar like this, right? John collected his mind the best that he could (physically however he was still stuck gaping in the entryway like an idiot). This was his chance. He normally wasn’t so forward. The girls after concerts usually came up to him and the others themselves, he never really had to make the initial approach. But it was for this reason with you standing all alone so perfectly that he decided to go for it, because if the way he had been kicking himself for running away for the past day and a half was a preview to how the rest of his life would be if he had never given it a chance, he was in for a long and painful ride. Finally collecting himself physically as well (luckily you hadn’t seemed to have seen him) he made his way over to you. He walked right up to you, up to your field of vision, and then you looked at each other again. It was the same as before, more so and better up close. At least it confirmed to him that he had made the correct decision in obsessing over you, that it wasn’t a complete loss, because he could see better now that you were definitely worth obsessing over. John had made a critical mistake however. He forgot to think of something to say to you once he got up here. Or anything at all.

***

You could see that he was having a hard time, that he was nervous, but you found it endearing that he could be so sheepish, and not just to be nice in social politics. You were very glad to see him again. While his problem seemed to be that he was (hopefully) so excited that he couldn’t say anything, yours was the opposite. Seeing him again made you giddy, like you could gab on for hours about how you felt, or maybe just giggle about it to yourself in amazement. But you decided to help him out.

“Hi,” you said softly, thinking that was a good place to start. The man gulped. You seemed to have successfully snapped him out of his stupor for the time being. He smiled, embarrassed, but it was so lovely. His cheeks rosed.

“Hi…” he drifted off, then realizing he was being an idiot again, “Sorry, I— I think I saw you at the beach the other day,” he said in a whimsy tone, struck by so much of you. 

You nodded. “I think I saw you too. I��m Y/N.”

Y/N. It was the most beautiful name he had ever heard, an antidote in verbal form to any ailment he’d ever had. John didn’t believe in God necessarily but he believed there could be one now with that name, it was too divine otherwise. He was staring again.

“Would you like to sit down?” you asked, nodding your head to the empty seat he was near. 

“If you wouldn’t mind,” he smiled, but this time really smiled, and you were beyond delighted when you saw the adorable gap between his front teeth. “What are you having?” 

“Just a spritz.”

“Oh, those are good.”

“Are you gonna get something?” you asked with a teasing smile, catching him become distracted again. 

“Oh! Yes.” He ordered a Pilsner. Each of you took a sip contentedly. The silence wasn’t awkward, though it persisted, it felt necessary to drink everything in, quite literally.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Oh, sorry, John. It’s John,” he said, cursing himself for being so starstruck in a sense. You sipped again. He gulped. “This… may sound strange, but I feel like I’ve met you before, even though I’m almost sure I haven’t.” He paused. “Sorry. That’s silly.” You put your hand on his arm, and his skin burned wonderfully at the contact. 

“No. I didn’t know how to bring it up, but I feel the same way,” you nodded.

“That’s part of why I was looking at you the other day. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to.”

“No, you didn’t at all.”

“Good,” you both smiled, and sipped again, feet pointed towards each other in clear direct interest. “What brings you to Bali?” he asked. You stirred your drink and smiled excitedly. 

“I won a week here from a raffle my company does. I didn’t expect to win! It was such a nice surprise. It’s been so nice too.”

“Isn’t it? It’s gorgeous here.”

“What brings you here then? All the way from… Leicestershire?” you said, trying to place his accent. John chuckled. 

“Good ear. But I live in London now. And I’m escaping from the hooligans I have to unfortunately live and work with.” He said. You chuckled. 

“Hooligans, hm? You’ll have to tell me more,” you prompted. John continued to tell you all about his band, the other boys, and all of the antics they got up to in their youth, and still today really. You thought it was charming how John took charge of his life and set his boundary when things got too intense at work, and took a trip to Bali. That, and you were grateful to be around him in general. You also graciously learned that the both of you were single, due to some stars aligning in the universe. The two of you hit it off, and talked nonstop. You had never felt such ease of conversation between someone. Lots of times in your life you didn’t know how to continue a person, like you couldn’t read or relate to people and the conversation would fizzle out, even if you enjoyed it, racking your brain for something more, but that never happened with John, or at least so far. He always managed to keep you engaged and excited to talk to him, and in the ways you least expected but was most pleased with. You felt alight and recharged for anything, really, once the bartender alerted you that the bar was soon closing for the night, and you realized you were just about the only two left. It had been like time stood still when you were with John. You turned back to him from the bartender after they’d warned you. You two were silent for a moment. 

“What was the other part?” you enquired. 

“Other part?”

“Earlier. You said when you were looking at me the other day, part of it was because you felt like you knew me. What was the other part?” John took a deep breath in. You could tell he was nervous, and grabbed his hand that was nearest to you and gave it a squeeze. That, and maybe the alcohol was making you a bit more willing to be more touchy with John. 

“Because I’d never seen someone so beautiful before in my life,” he sighed, looking deep into your eyes, seeing you truly, uncensored. 

“John…” you sighed happily. Usually you’d think this was some sort of trick to get you in bed, but you could tell, you just knew John meant it. And he was talking about the inside, too, and you felt so whole.

“I know, it’s cheesy, but I… can’t describe it. It just is. You just are.” You grabbed his other hand. 

“I believe you John. And I think the same thing,” you said, fluttering your eyelashes a bit as you looked down at your hands. He squeezed them and your eyes met again. 

The bartender gave the two of you a pleading look, and taking pity on him, understanding he wanted to finish his long day, you both glanced towards the door. You hopped off the stool and started to shuffle reluctantly towards the door with John by your side. Once you had exited the bar, standing outside the glass doors, the beautiful manicured garden of the resort behind you, the only sound coming from the trickling fountain put in as an outdoor centerpiece and the ocean softly in the distance, a sigh, a constant pushing of everything together. The only light a few small outside lamps no more than a minimal illumination for the footpath, and the moon shining down, as the lights to the bar shut off. John faced you and took your hands, everything shining in each other’s eyes. Your palms were held high as your fingers interwove.

“Can I see you again tomorrow?” John breathed, whispered. You nodded fervently. 

“Of course. I have all day.” John looked at you intensely and kissed the back of one of your hands.

“Meet for breakfast? At the buffet?” he asked.

“Perfect,” you smiled. You managed to tear away for a moment, and parted in opposite directions to your own rooms. You didn’t need to look back, and neither did he, because you knew you’d see each other again.

FRIDAY

You met John right on time, and maybe you’d woken up a bit earlier to make sure you looked extra nice for breakfast. When you saw him, large smiles flew onto both of your faces and you walked directly to him, everything looking clean, fresh, bright, and wonderful in the morning sunlight. He was even more adorable with his slightly pillow-ruffled hair and wide awake eyes. 

“Good morning,” you said, giggling a little, and you didn’t even know why. 

“Morning,” John said happily back, also giggling a bit, just excited to see you again. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Amazing,” John smiled. “Shall we eat?” he said, gesturing to the food. You nodded. John handed you a plate and you each loaded up on the complimentary continental breakfast that was included for staying at the resort. You both sat down at a table with a fantastic beach view. You both seemed to take it in for a moment before turning to your food, and then each other. Neither of you could stop smiling. 

“The weather’s been so nice here,” you said.

“Yeah, we really lucked out. I heard it rains quite often. Just like jolly ol’ England,” said John. You chuckled and agreed. “I feel I was a bit selfish last night. I only spoke about me,” he said, eyebrows furrowing for a moment.

“No! I enjoyed it. You’re fascinating, John!” you chuckled. He blushed at the compliment. 

“But I do want to know more about you. Tell me about this job you work at, where you win trips to Bali.”

“You make it sound like I do this all the time,” you laughed again. You proceeded to tell him about your career, your studies to get you there, and just how passionate you were about the subject and lucky you felt to be working somewhere you loved. John loved seeing you light up about the things you were ardent about. “But I really do enjoy it. I could only dream about such a thing when I was a kid,” you finished, also taking the last bite of your food. “Look at me, now I’ve been the one talking all about myself,” you smiled sheepishly. 

“Not at all. To quote someone I know, you’re fascinating,” he smiled. It was your turn to blush now. John took the final sip of the glass of milk he had gotten for himself. He stood up and cleared your plate without asking, ever the gentleman. You stood up to thank him.

“I’m sure I’ll gain a few pounds from these daily high sugar breakfast pancakes by the end of this trip,” he commented. You smiled at his quip. He began to say something else, but before he could you spoke over him. 

“Would you like to come to the beach with me?” You said quickly, and then composing yourself a little and blushing at your eagerness. “I mean— I was going to spend most of the day lazing around there. Might take a dip. Only if you’re not busy,” you said softly. John beamed at how adorable you were. You could’ve then sworn your heart stopped when he suddenly brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I’d love to,” he said. 

You both agreed to change and then meet back at the private beach entrance in a few minutes. You met, and John looked perfectly handsome, all tan from the former days of sun, and John used all of his willpower to compose himself around you in your bikini, trying not to stare. You chuckled, noticing, but took his hand before he could feel bad about it (because it wasn’t unwelcome in the slightest) and led him towards the sand, towards two chairs that had been set up in front of an umbrella. After coating yourself in copious amounts of sunscreen and scolding John for not putting on enough (“John, it isn’t safe!”) and laughing again when he then smeared an exaggerated amount of lotion on his nose like a lifeguard before rubbing it in, the two of you settled down and talked more. The conversation eventually died out naturally and both of you soaked in the rays peacefully, and soaked in each other’s presence, each which had a glorious contented effect on the other. You were so relaxed, more so than any spa treatment or nap had made you feel in the days prior. You were so relaxed in fact, that you didn’t notice John had been gone until you sensed the light shift over your eyes, shading them further. You opened them, blinking to the sudden light, to see John smiling over you and holding out two ice creams, one for each of you. You gasped excitedly and took one, thanking him as you began to eat the delicious treat. 

“How’d you know chocolate was my favorite?” you asked. 

“Lucky guess,” he smiled. The two of you finished quickly, laughing as you each attempted to catch the drips before it made a mess, the ice cream melting fast in the sun. You both inevitably ended up, however, with sticky hands, and a few drops on your stomachs and legs, the heat too much for the frozen treat. You looked to each other and laughed at your states. 

“Come on, let’s clean off,” you said, nodding towards the water. John began to stand up. “Race you?” you said, and took off before John could realize what you had said. But momentarily, you heard him scoff and accuse you of cheating, and then sand being kicked behind you. You squealed as the cool water reached your toes, and then even more so when John suddenly grabbed your waist and pushed the both of you further into the water. Both of you fell softly as the waves caught any impact you might have had, soaking you both, but you couldn’t seem to care as you both attempted to stand, hard to do with all of the laughter. 

“I won,” said John, catching his breath. 

“I wouldn’t necessarily call that winning,” you smiled. John retaliated by splashing a bit of water back at you, and you did so back. Before it got too ugly your breath hitched as John once again put a hand on your waist like he had moments before. He brushed now a wet strand of your hair behind your ear once more, and you placed a hand on his forearm. You both saw into each other’s eyes, understanding how special you were to each other in this moment. You each turned to the horizon, watching the sun glitter off of the waves as it began to descend into a gilded set. You both stood and watched for a few minutes, and you gasped excitedly as the sun gave off an emerald flash as it bent under the water’s horizon. 

“That was so beautiful,” you whispered. 

“It was,” said John, but he was looking more at you than anything else. You turned to him. “Meet me for dinner. Let’s clean up and meet for dinner,” he said. You nodded excitedly. You walked back to your rooms once more and agreed to meet at the reception area in an hour. 

After a shower, singing to yourself happily the entire time, you decided on what to wear. You decided on a black sundress that you had brought, one you had meant to pass as casual but could definitely be more formal. It’s why you had bought it in the first place a while ago, it was good for switching from day to night when you didn’t have time to properly change. By some alignment of the stars, you had packed it with you. You gave yourself the best blowout you could with the small hairdryer included in your room’s amenities and touched your makeup up a bit before heading to the hotel’s reception. He was already there when you arrived. His eyes found yours and widened, taking in your form. 

“Y/N…” he trailed off. “you look beautiful,” he said in a daze.

“Back at you,” you giggled, making John blush. He really did look extremely handsome. He also seemed to not have packed anything particularly formal, but looked incredible in some flares and a button down, which revealed his tanned chest underneath. “Shall we?” he asked. You nodded, and looped your arm into his. 

You arrived to the restaurant, mutually deciding to try something outside of the resort for the first time all week for each of you, and decided on a nice looking place nearby. It was still relatively tourist-y, so there were still English menus, but it felt nice to get out. You each ordered drinks, a nice meat entree each, and shared a chocolate cake for desert as the conversation flowed easily between you two throughout the night. You felt like you were soaring around John, and he felt enlightened by you. Each of you felt like there was a motivational reason to wake up in the morning for each other. John, ever the gentleman, insisted on paying for the meal (though you forced him to let you pay for the drinks at least) and you were soon walking hand in hand through the quiet, dimly lit streets through the night. John additionally insisted on walking you to your room, and you were sure you’d never smiled so much by the time you’d arrived in front of your door. The conversation halted naturally as you turned around to face him, your hands still firmly in his. His breath hitched, and he felt choked nearly as you looked at him, your gazes so intense. 

“I had the loveliest evening John,” you whispered. 

“Me too.” He brought one of your hand up and gave it a kiss, and your heart just about melted. You couldn’t help but move closer to him a bit. 

“Not just the dinner. The whole day has been amazing. One of the best I’ve ever had,” you started. He nodded firmly. “I know that seems strange to say. But it’s true.”

“Me too. I feel the same way. It feels a bit ridiculous to say, since I’ve only known you for so shortly, but everything feels so… right. And I hope you don’t think I’m too forward to say such a thing,” he confessed. He had confessed more than just his appreciation of the day in his speech, and you both knew it; it didn’t have to be said directly. John would normally never be this forward. He could be very blunt at times, but not in anything more genuine than annoyance at Brian. And the petty side of him typically made everyone around him figure everything out. He was usually the type sit back and watch, to laugh at the inevitable he could seemingly predict, but none of that seemed right here. All John could feel was genuine and good, and it was so overwhelming he had to say it out loud, in very plain terms. Never had he felt something so physical, so emotional. The two of you were simply understood and all of yourselves. You moved closer to each other. “Not at all. I’ve never felt so right in my life,” you finished. You moved even closer and your arms slid from John’s hand up to his arms, and then his shoulders. With a final look into each other’s eyes, John grabbed your face gently and pulled your lips to his. It was the sweetest kiss, the sweetest touch either of you had ever felt. His hands fell to your waist and you fell into each other further. Only when you couldn’t breath any more did either of you pull away. You smiled at each other, breathing in each other’s scents so close, and continued to hold each other. John once again brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, and you immediately did the same to him, causing both of you to fall into a fit of giggles before you quieted each other in another kiss. 

“See you tomorrow?” John asked hopefully as you pulled away again. 

“Definitely,” you said, giving him a final peck before unlocking your room and giving him a smile as you closed the door. 

You flopped down, extremely contented on your soft bed. You didn’t even bother to shower, do your skin care routine, change, or brush your teeth as you immediately fell into a wonderful slumber. You just couldn’t. You were too exhausted (in a good way) to move, and you wanted just some semblance of you to keep the night forever. 

John had a little more of his wits as he managed to get ready for bed, but he also flopped quickly into the white, fluffy sheets. His mind was racing more nonstop. He kept trying to convince himself, that he must be crazy, There’s no way this could be happening to him. He hand only seen you a matter of days ago, let alone talked to you for less, and John struggled to convince himself he didn’t have feelings for you. He kept trying to find a reason that this was insane, absolutely crazy, but he simply couldn’t convince himself of that. He didn’t believe such a thing, because everything simply was so perfect with you. Outsiders would call him crazy, stupid, and he’d always wondered how some people got married after a matter of weeks of dating and had lasting relationships, but now he seemed to understand it more. He only had ever heard such stories in hushed tones about family gossip for some sort of distant uncle, and everyone had thought they were crazy, or the local storekeeper had done the same thing, and John had agreed that love at first sight was a type of insanity, and laughed at the thought. But none of it was funny now. It was all so beautiful, and he could really truly feel it. 

John turned around in bed happily, and took a quick glance at the alarm clock near his bed. It had just turned midnight. Saturday. One day left.

SATURDAY

When John woke up, he was even more in a panic. All of the contentedness gone. He had only just begun to realize it last night, but it was truly setting in now. Just one day. 24 hours. Before he had to leave Bali, head back to England, into the miserable November weather and rain, and his insipid bandmates. One day until he had to leave you. How could he possibly do such a thing? He couldn’t imagine living a second without a promise of you. He felt sick, genuinely ill as he laid in bed, but again, the promise of you was the only thing to get him out. He felt shaky, in a blind panic, and couldn’t even eat as he made his way out for the day. This was probably silly as well, but John couldn’t help it. Did you know? Did you even realize that he was leaving so soon? How could you be alright with it? John couldn’t stand it. 

The truth is, you had realized it. You didn’t know when John was leaving necessarily, but as for you it was tomorrow afternoon. But you had not panicked. You couldn’t, because you couldn’t bear to think of it at all. The second the thought had come into your mind, you shut it down, put it away. And besides, you weren’t going to let this poison your last day with John. This day was to be enjoyed. 

It occurred to John only after he had left his room the two of you hadn’t agreed on a particular time or place to meet, and that sent his panic spiraling further for a moment, thinking back to how he’d looked for you a few days before to no avail. But it didn’t last long, as he soon found you by the pool, sitting in the already hot sun of the late morning. You had your eyes closed, not noticing John come up to you. 

“Mind if I sit?” He smiled. You blinked open and smiled as John took a seat on the lounger next to you and sat up. He wasn’t worried anymore. His day was better now. 

“Not at all,” you smiled, closing your eyes again. John relaxed and closed his eyes as well. “Sleep well?”

“Very,” he said.

“You’re a bit overdressed for the pool,” you pointed out, referring to his jeans and t-shirt. 

“Maybe you’re a bit underdressed for the rest of the day,” he jested. You sat up further and looked at him. 

“Oh yeah? And what’s happening for the rest of the day?” you asked. 

“Lunch?” He offered. You nodded gratefully and moved to stand up, but gasped excitedly before you did. 

“What?” he asked.

“I know just the place!” you said, pulling on a flowy sundress you had brought out with you over your bathing suit (one that made John’s heart race quite a bit). You slipped on your shoes and took his hand. “Picnic?” you offered. John smiled. 

“Good plan.” The two of you made your way out of the resort, into a local shop, and bought yourselves some terrible little sandwiches and fruit, along with a couple of sodas, and insisted on paying yourself this time (“You bought me food last night!”) as John grabbed the plastic bag. 

“Shall we eat on the beach?” he suggested, following you along, amused at how adorable you were, seemingly set out on a mission. The light in your eyes was contagious and filled his. You shook your head. 

“I know some place better,” you said, grabbing his hand once more and leading him away.

***

“Wow,” you whispered to yourself as you reached the peak of the hill you had just trekked up. You turned around to look for John, only to find him nowhere to be found. “John?” you quickly looked back down the hill to see him huffing and puffing as he reached the top near you. He smiled when he saw you, despite being out of breath.

“How long’s this hiking trail again?” he breathed harshly. You giggled.

“We can stop here,” you said taking pity on him. “Look, it’s beautiful.”

“Incredible,” John said, eyes widening as he took in the truly magnificent view. He had to admit, he’d been skeptical about a hike in the Bali heat (especially when it was due to rain) but it had made you so happy, and it really was an amazing sight. It was all worth it. The air was so fresh.

“Shall we sit?” you said, snapping John out of his mild stupor. John nodded, and the two of you fell upon the grass and opened the lunch you had bought, talking, taking in the sights, and each other.

“Sorry for dragging you all the way up here,” you commented as you folded your napkin away and threw it in to the plastic bag to dispose of later. John shook his head.

“I couldn’t imagine a better lunch,” John said. 

“What if there was a lift that took us straight up without the walking?” You laughed. John chuckled.

“Well, yes, then it would have been slightly better. But I don’t regret a thing,” said John, grabbing your hand and pulling you into a short kiss. You smiled into it. Every time you kissed, it felt like you were breathing properly for the first time, feeling so refreshed and enlivened, more than ever before.

*** 

After descending the hill and parting shortly to change out of your grass-stained clothes, you each met for dinner once more. It was lovely, incredible again in every way to be with you, but John felt an impending sense of doom. He became increasingly aware of the ticking time bomb, the hours, minutes, seconds, reducing too fast until he had to go back home, and there was nothing he could do. He felt so helpless, and didn’t know if you knew or felt the same, or if you were even aware at all. It was all he could do to hold your hand tight as you walked back to your room once more that night and turned to each other once more, just as you had before. You somehow were more beautiful now. John pulled you close without hesitation this time, and connected his lips to yours. You melted against him, in the best way. You felt his somberness in this moment, the same doom you had been holding off on all day. It seemed so real now, him in your arms, not knowing the next time it would be, or if there was a next time. All you had was him, fleeting, right now. Tears pricked your eyes as you stared deeply into his.

“John…” you started, choking up before you could even begin. 

“I know,” he said, completely understanding, pulling you close. You fell into his shoulder, only knowing his sweet smell and gentle touch. John felt terrible seeing you upset, but partly relieved you had some semblance of your imminent parting. That way he wouldn’t have to spring it on you. God, how could he possibly tell you? Say such a thing? He could only hold you tight and kiss you again, using his thumbs to wipe at your glistening eyes, shushing you comfortingly. 

“Can you come in?” you said smally, and John could have deceased right there. 

“Of course.” He followed you in your room, the door closing softly, and the lights remaining low, the push and pull of the waves lightly in the ambience. The two of you held each other close, barely able to accept the majesty of each other. You brought John to your lips, and never disconnected. Gently, you unbuttoned his shirt and felt all along him, and all of it was perfect. John slid the straps of your dress down before reaching for the zipper in the back before lightly caressing your soft hair. John shrugged off his shirt, and your dress pooled to the floor, and you reached to unbutton his trousers. You walked back towards the bed and fell into the soft, soft sheets, and laid back against the middle, John always following, both of you only in your underpants now. John had never seen a sight so beautiful as all of you. Your lips were warm and sweet against each other’s as the final pieces of clothing were removed. John thrust in, and your eyes connected, never leaving, outpouring pure affection. It felt so good, so perfect, all of it, and he gently held your face. The speed picked up, but with grace and subtly as you both soon reached your highs, never leaving each other’s gaze. John, still inside you, fell slightly on top of you as you grabbed on to his back tightly, melding yourselves to each other forever, shaking and breathing together, synchronized almost. John kissed you hard, and you tried your best to give every feeling you had in reciprocation. Finally, John pulled out and flipped you over, pulling you into his chest, and you’d never felt safer or more content. 

“I love you,” he said, admitted to himself and professed to you. You fell into his eyes. 

“I love you too,” you said, as you both drifted off perfectly.

SUNDAY

John glanced over, tired, exhausted to see that the clock read 5:45. Just in time to make his morning flight. You were bundled up so peacefully in his arms. The sun barely graced the sky, it being only a tinge lighter than night. John took you in. How soft you fit into him. How mesmerizing your scent was. How gorgeous you looked. How wonderful your deep breaths sounded in your peaceful sleep. He couldn’t possibly wake you up, not like this. John knew if he were to leave you, which he must, despite it feeling impossible, he must do so now. He moved slowly at first, not wanting to wake you, but as soon as he sat up, you stirred, turning over and reaching for John. 

“Whe’r’r you going?” you mumbled sleepy. John’s heart melted. He rolled back over to you, sitting up against the pillows and holding you close.

“My flight’s soon,” he whispered. 

“Hm?”

“I… I have to go, sweetheart.” That woke you up. You figured to had to as well, but your flight wasn’t until later. He couldn’t leave now, he just couldn’t. This wasn’t supposed to happen, none of it was, finding him, loving him, leaving him. You sat up, looking at him, fighting back tears. You wanted to yell at him, make him stop at all costs. But you couldn’t do that. He wanted you to beg him to stay just as much, because he would. But you couldn’t do that. So instead, you began to cry and held you close, and he did the same. You sniffled.

“I can’t believe this has happened. That I love you. And I love you so much,” you cried.

“I love you too, darling. I never thought this could happen.” You cried together for what seemed like an eternity. You were torn away, bound by moral and social discrepancies, and watched as he pulled his clothes back on, and held you close, giving you the deepest kiss either of you had ever felt. He didn’t say anything as he closed the door. There’s nothing he could say, that either of you could. 

And so, that morning, and you later that day, John went back home alone, as he had started.

ONE WEEK LATER

You had tried to get him out of your mind, you thought that you’d snap back into your senses or your normal life, but you couldn’t you must be sick, and your friends and coworkers all noticed that you hadn’t been the same. They’d expected a bubbly you, refreshed from a week of relaxation, but was met with a you which could barely function. You cried seemingly all the time, nothing was right without him, the world was strange and confusing. This couldn’t go on. 

***

John was absolutely miserable. Dodging the nosy questions from his band mates, his week of getting away from them made them more annoying upon his return, him more irritable, so much so that the others forced him home early after one recording, not wanting to be around him. He was consumed by this, nothing was alright, everything had changed and nothing at all, and nobody seemed to care or do anything about it. How could they? Nothing was the same and everything was wrong. After endless pestering, John broke, and spilled all (after a couple of drinks as well) and fell apart. His friends were annoyingly understanding, not even bothering to tease him. Roger, usually with an innuendo at the go, and Brian with his endless la-dee-da prose, and Freddie, the self proclaimed love expert (“You’ve only been in about two relationships, Fred,”) could even sense John’s despair that this was something deeper, nothing to joke about. And while John hated to admit it, it was them who encouraged him one day. He had to find you. They nearly shoved a phonebook into his hands as he began to scour.

But it wasn’t long. Because you had come to your senses just a bit before John, and he wasn’t too hard to find. The receptionist at the terrible little miserable studio informed John he had a guest. Coming out into the lobby, just holding back the others like a pair of rabid chihuahuas wanting to see who you were, there you were.

And you grabbed each other close. And you were together again. John cried.

“Never. Never again,” said John, kissing your hair and breathing you in once more.

“Is this crazy?” you asked for being so hung up on him.

“Yes. But I don’t care. And I’m never leaving you, ever,” he said, your lips falling together.

It was crazy. It was absolutely insane that you managed to find each other over and over again, but none of it was complicated. It was only simple, nothing purer than true love. And you never let go of each other.

ONE YEAR LATER

You giggled as John carried you over the threshold. Everything about the day, about the wedding had been perfect, and you melted into him. But John had been keeping something for you, and you had to know, you had a right as his wife.

“Mr. Deacon, will you ever tell me where we’ll be going on our honeymoon?” you asked. When you suggested different destinations in the wedding planning stage, John shot all of them down, promising he’d work it all out. As you were apparently leaving tomorrow, you had to know. John, barely tearing himself apart from your lips, hummed, and reached into his coat pocket.

“How does Bali sound?” He laughed handing you the plane tickets.

“I had a suspicion,” you smirked. 

“I am very mischievous,” he contended. You kissed once more. “You wanna go, or not?” he teased.

“Only if you come back with me.”

“Well, good thing I bought roundtrip tickets. You’re stuck with me, before, during, and after.”

“Good,” you smiled. And you always had each other, always now.

#john deacon #john deacon imagine #john deacon x reader #queen #my writing

[johnica-weeks]

Brian and Anita

Brian May (19 July 1947) 💕 Anita Dobson (29 April 1949)

Married on 18 November 2000

Children: none (Brian has 3 children from his previous relationship with Chrissie)

Brian first met soap star Anita at a movie premiere in Beverly Hills in 1986, she was widely known as Angie from Eastenders and she was friend with Freddie Mercury, who introduced her to Brian and he invited her out to one of Queen’s performances. Their friendship soon blossomed and quickly turned into love and conflicting feelings, trying to escape scandals as they grew closer and Brian grew apart from his wife Chrissie. "I was the scarlet woman. I'm not proud of it." (Anita in 2013) During the growth of their relationship, Brian and Anita had worked together on her album Talking Of Love (1988) and her following singles, while she and the relationship with her inspired many of Brian's songs, "Scandal" and "I want it All" being just two of them.

While they were head over heels for each other, their affair led also to many internal struggles within the two and Brian often recalls how the affair -close in time to his father's death and Freddie's illness, and under great pressure from the media- turned his life into hell and the trauma of the split from Chrissie still haunts him: "It was utter hell for three years. Sheer pain. To contemplate not waking up with your kids is unthinkable. Anyone who finds themselves in that position can never forgive themselves. I don’t know if I have still, really. But I know in my heart there was no other way." (2002)

The two split for a while in the late 90s when Brian went to therapy to deal with grief and depression, he also had a short affair with secretary Julie Glover, but Anita returned into his life like a storm and after a ultimatum from her they eventually they got married with a private ceremony on 18 November 2000. “She’s incredible. If I didn’t have Anita, all the therapy in the world wouldn’t sort me. If she wasn’t by my side now, I wouldn’t be in this state. She’s somehow part of me."

From Brianmay.com: "The bride wore a red outfit and Brian a grey linen suit with a red waistcoat and red buttonhole (and yes, he wore clogs!). Roger Taylor was best man, and Anita was given away by her brother in law Michael O'Niell. Brians children Jimmy, Louisa and Emily attended, along with Anita's Mum, her sister Gill and about 20 close friends (sadly John Deacon didn't attend)."

They're still attached at the hip and very much in love with each other, often reminding how their marriage is working well to nowadays despite many people (included Freddie!) believed it wouldn't have lasted. They vocally support each other's career, and Brian has also rekindled his relationship with his children, while Chrissie keeps a silent profile.

Prompts - Day 4: Brian and Anita (15th April)

I love to do everything at your side.

You're really stubborn!

Vegetarian dinner

Baby I know what my poor heart needs

Brian & Roger's ships week 2023 rules and prompts

#brian and roger ships week 2023 #brianrogershipsweek2023 #brian may x anita dobson #branita #brian x anita #queen fanfiction #queen fanfic #queen fandom #queen fandom event #queen ship week #brian may fanfic #anita dobson fanfic

[queen-hospitality]

I've written something for @fem-queen-week !

It's not very polished (let's call it a draft) but I had another look at the Day 2 prompts yesterday and was suddenly inspired so I wrote a short fem!joger thing overnight. This might end up on ao3 eventually, we'll see!

Details: Roger = Rose/Rosie, John = Jane/Jen/Jenny. (Freddie and Brian are still boyz.) Adult themes between the lines. Approx 940 words.

Prompts: "New Skill" & "Second-Hand Embarrassment" (Day 2)

Summary: Brian has come to Rose for help mending his clothes, but an appearance from Jane means he might find out more than he bargained for. A ficlet in two styles, starting with Brian's description-heavy point of view (help him).

NB. This is actually a follow-up to something else I've written, which is rated mature and can be found on ao3 here, but is not essential reading for the ficlet below.

--

"Right, okay, yeah I see your problem. You've done a nice running stitch here – really very nice, these stitches are tiny..." Rose squinted, nose twitching as she held the fabric almost comically close to her face.

Brian sighed. "But...? What's the problem then?"

"What you want is a backstitch – much stronger." She plonked the jacket back in its owner's lap.

"Grand. Marvellous. I'll just stitch backwards next time then, shall I?" Brian grumbled.

"Er, no actually, you'll backstitch it forwards – and you'll do it this time," said Rose, reaching for her sewing basket.

Brian pulled a face at his bandmate's back. 'Do it this time,' he mimed silently, indulging in a bit of childishness to offset his annoyance.

There was quiet but wicked cackle from across the room and Brian jumped, whipping his head towards the sound.

"When did-? Where the hell did you come from?! Bloody hell, Jane don't do that to me. Lord. I didn't know you were here!"

Jane – who it seems had been leaning against the doorframe for goodness-knows how long – had the courtesy to at least look a little sheepish, ducking her head and pressing a hand to her lips. It did nothing to hide her grin, but she did try to apologise all the same. "Sorry, Brian. Sorry," she said. "I was... around, you know, just..." she waved in the direction of another doorway, "in the bathroom."

Brian nodded, still a little bewildered.

He was not, however, too shaken to notice that the doorway Jane had been gesticulating towards was certainly not the bathroom.

There were three doors at the top of the staircase on the tiny landing which comprised Rose's bedsit. One led to the shared not-quite-kitchen, where he was currently seated, increasingly uncomfortable and about to receive a sewing lesson, apparently. Another door did lead to the toilet – he had staggered in there many a time after a night out, taking the opportunity for a comfort break before continuing his journey home. This left the third door, the one to which Jane had waved, the one he hadn't ventured through himself since helping Rose to move in last year. 

So, unless there had been a swift, radical and completely inexplicable change of layout in the flat, Brian could be fairly certain that the third and final door led to Rose's bedroom. He could assume, then, that from some point prior to his arrival with a poorly-patched jacket bundled into his satchel, all the way up until a few moments before he'd had his life expectancy shortened for him by such a sudden appearance, Jane had been in the small bedroom – Rose's room. Combining this information with the fact that these two bandmates had each said they didn't feel like a trip to the pub that evening, Brian felt his cheeks begin to heat up as he considered the very real possibility that Freddie had been right after all and that it might actually be the case that Rose and Jane really had in fact been f–

"Ow!"

Rose had prodded him in the leg with the blunt end of a sewing needle. "Brian, mate, I haven't got all day. You recovered yet? We okay to continue?" 

"Hm?"

Jane giggled again. "Oh dear, I have given him a fright haven't I? Here, I think you'd better have some water."

She moved to the sink. Rose watched her. Brian watched Rose watch her.

"Have you finished distracting my pupil?" Asked Rose as Jane placed two glasses atop a stack of magazines.

Jane nodded, still smiling widely. Very widely. "I'll go to the shop – you're out of milk."

"Thank you Jenny," Rose sang after her.

Very domestic.

Brian pouted in thought. He'd always been pleased with the bashful, contented smiles he received when a woman left his bedroom, but the way Jane had been beaming? He felt somewhat put to shame.

Soon, Rose shoved his leg.

Brian tried desperately to close the door on the line of thinking he'd started going down, and forced himself to make eye contact with his friend. "Hm?"

"Do you want to know how it works or not?"

"How it... works?"

Rose gave him a hard stare. He was really testing her. She picked up the scrap of fabric and sighed. "Look, backstitch is quite simple, really..."

--

"So," Jane began, "Brian was weird today."

"Yeah," Rose pulled her close. "I think it was mostly– well, I reckon he knows."

"What, really?"

"Well, I think so. He kept using backstitch as an analogy for–"

"Stop! I don't want to know."

"No, no, I mean, 'doing things differently from what he'd assumed'? Or something... and about there being a garment you think you know, then finding there's other layers to it..."

"...But I thought he already knew you're into women?"

"Yeah he knew about me – you're the garment, silly."

Jane laughed. "Oh I'm the garment, okay I'm with you."

...

...

"His face when he saw you though..."

"I know, I thought I'd short-circuited him!"

"Well you do have that effect on me, so it's not hard to imagine the same happening to him."

"Please, we do not need to imagine that happening–"

"No," Rose snorted, "no you're right... because we know you'd blow his mind."

"You've got a funny way of flirting with me, Ms Taylor. You know that?"

"Oh, like I ever need to flirt with you anymore. I bet you didn't even bother putting your knickers back on earlier."

"...Yeah okay you're right," Jane grinned, radiant. She flopped back onto Rose's bed once again. "Come on!" She said, "get your kit off and let's finish what you started."

-- 💫 --

Thanks for reading! Comments welcome, but no pressure. I know my pacing is a bit off, but I hope it still hangs together!

The main story/'part one' is here:

#queen fic #fem queen #fem!queen #fem queen week #joger

[ecoamerica]

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[royalty-fics]

Shut The Fuck Up

pairing/s: queen & reader

summary: reader has bipolar disorder and gets overwhelmed with all the negative thoughts in their head. queen tries to help but they end up triggering them

warning/s: angst, cursing, hallucinations, aggressive behavior, blood, self-harm and destruction of anything and everything

masterlist

You were hanging out with your friends, Queen, at your apartment, laughing along some of the jokes they were telling. You weren't feeling all that well the past week, but you didn't want to bail on spending time with your busy friends. You smiled at Brian as he was explaining to the four of you something about space, listening with cotton in your ears.

John was sat next to you, quietly observing your dazed face and half-hearted replies. He nudged Freddie with his foot, startling the older man who was sitting on an armchair, and pointed towards you with his chin. They both watched you, concerned by how detached you were getting as the seconds go by.

When John and Freddie stopped Brian and Roger from talking, they all saw how you continued to nod your head and reply to a non-existent question. John grasped at your knee, jolting you out of a weird hallucination. You looked at all four of them, confused as to why the conversation had stopped.

"Darling, are you alright?" Freddie asked you, his brown eyes shining in worry. You immediately felt annoyed, rolling your eyes and looking at the filled bookshelf mounted on your wall. "You've been acting weird, is there something wrong?"

"Nothing’s wrong, Fred." You sharply said, your eyes narrowing at the older man in front of you. John's hand on your knee rose up to touch your shoulder, but you recoiled from it, feeling like your personal space had been breached. "Everything's alright, so just go back to talking about your space dust, okay?"

You stood up from your couch, moving to the kitchen with your arms wrapped around your shoulders. You felt bad that you can't help the negative emotions spreading through you like a forest fire. You felt extremely bad that your hands twitched to hurt them all just because of those emotions. But you were new to controlling these thoughts, and as hard as you tried to do your coping mechanisms, you failed to remember how to do them.

A hand grabbed at your arm, pulling you backwards into your kitchen counter. You hissed in pain as your hips collided against the corner harshly. You turned to glare at the man who's holding you, trying your best to pull away.

"What the fuck, mate? Let go of me." You tried to pry the fingers that were gripping on your bicep, failing as it tightened around you. You looked up to see a blurry face, glaring at them as you tried to make out who it was. "It fucking hurts! Let go!"

You see a glint at the corner of your eye and instinctively reached out for it. You used the bottle to smash it against the man's head, missing it by a few inches and falling as the grip finally let go. You would've fell onto the ground if it weren't for another pair of arms catching you as you tumble. Glancing up, you see Roger look at you concerned, pushing away stray hairs from your eyes.

"Oh my god, you're okay, nobody was holding you, alright? You're safe." Roger rambled, cuddling you close to his chest, as if it would help you calm down. Your eyes wandered around the room, seeing Brian and John standing by the couch and Freddie next to you clutching at a glass bottle.

You pulled yourself away from the embrace, walking backwards until your back hit the counter. You see hands reach out for you and you grab at a chair to throw at them. "Don't fucking touch me! Stop fucking touching me!"

You throw more chairs, your coffee machine, a vase of flowers, and glass cups at the hands. You felt something crawl up your body, scratching away at your skin with sharp nails. Voices rung out in your head, obnoxiously loud and arrogant.

"It's okay, love,"

"Just breath, darling,"

"You're a monster, love,"

"Stop it, mate,"

It repeated throughout your brain, growing louder and louder with every sentence. You clasped at your ears, hoping it would block the noise out and crying when it didn't work.

You opened your eyes, not realizing they were closed in the first place, and took in your surroundings. Your flat was a mess; Broken glass scattered all over the floor, chairs were flipped and dented the walls, and red spots had stained the area around you. You looked down to see your hands covered in your blood and your skin harbouring bright red stripes that were bleeding just a bit.

Feeling yourself hyperventilating, you searched for your friends, who were standing nearby with tears in their eyes. John was crying into Brian's shoulders and Freddie was tending on Roger's wounds from your break down. When you saw the big gash on the blond's forehead, you let out a big wail, falling down on your knees, not caring if the glass pricked you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," You said over and over again, feeling awful that you caused your friends pain. You felt long arms wrap around you once more, but this time you leaned into the hug, needing the affection even if it was short lived. "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, I'm a monster, You shouldn't have to deal with my bullshit-"

The arms, which you realized were Brain, had carried you into your room, devoid of any mess that you made. He placed you onto your bed gently, leaving John, who was still crying, alone with you. The brunet sat down next to you, fat tears rolling down from his grey eyes and staining his pink cheeks. He ran his fingers through your hair, slowly calming you down and lulling you into a sleep.

Brian, Roger and Freddie entered the room, bringing in some washcloths and a first aid kit to clean you up. Roger laid down beside you, careful of the wound on his head, before joining you in your slumber. John helped the older two in cautiously wiping your cuts, finishing bandaging you up quickly. They all laid down on your bed; Brian behind Roger with an arm over him to reach you; John was on your other side, wary of your injuries and then cuddling as close as possible; Freddie was lounging on a chair in your room, watching over all of you for a while and dozing off after a while.

#queen x reader #queen #queen band

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

🔸The Girl In The Audience

by Patrick Lemieux

The band had agreed prior to this to allow the company Mobilevision to film them in concert. The resulting film would be toured by the company for paying audiences. Two special concerts were planned for November 24th and 25th for The Forum in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. 19 year old Sarah Bernard had no idea that attending the concerts would result in her being immortalized on film.

“I attended both nights for the Montreal shows, and was fortunate enough to be up front both nights,” says Sarah, “My sister Cathy and her friend Christian Giddings got three tickets for both nights and invited me to go, as they knew I was a fan, so I was lucky in that sense.”

Sarah goes on to explain, “I had been a Queen fan since the mid-1970s, when I received my first Queen album. It was Sheer Heart Attack, and it was given to me as a gift. I would often listen to certain songs and associate them with certain memories in my mind, and listening to Killer Queen always reminded me of the first time I played the album and broke in my record player at my best friend’s house. The album that I played the most in the ‘70s, however, was probably A Day at the Races. I had seen Queen two times before the Montreal shows.

At the Montreal shows, Sarah was able to make her way to a priceless spot perfect for taking pictures. "I’m sure there were reserved spots up front for professional photographers and media people outside of the film crew, but most people around me were simply fans,” she says.

Throughout the concert film, which is edited together from both nights, Sarah can be glimpsed center stage in the audience, occasionally taking pictures. Unfortunately, she no longer has the photos she took at the shows. Sarah says, “They were not the greatest quality, but I was proud of them.”

Of the band’s performance, Sarah says of Freddie, “I recall thinking that he made it very hard to NOT watch him. He was a wonderful performer, and I was reminded of how incredibly he commanded the stage. It had been a few years since I’d seen them last, and I’d forgotten what a force he really was up there. In the two shows I’d seen before, I was not as close to the stage, but I was still enchanted by how he worked the crowd. It really was like he held us all in the palm of his hand. Like we were being manipulated, and we loved it! A feeling I’ve felt with very few other acts. Brian and Roger were just as swift and amazing as I’d remembered from the previous shows. Watching Roger drum was almost hypnotic! John always seemed like the quiet and reserved type in photos and magazines, but live on stage, he always shined!”

Sarah goes on to recall, “Towards the end of the first show, I had spent some time trying to get their attention for a wave or a smile, and I made eye contact with John who nodded at me and returned my smile, which made my night even better! I also remember getting goosebumps during a few numbers both nights and even in the two previous shows I’d seen. Most notably during, ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’!”

At the end of “Love Of My Life,” the cameras captured a truly moving moment in Sarah’s reaction as she stands still and glassy-eyed amid the erupting audience around her. She remembers what was going through her mind in that moment, “Every time I heard ‘Love of My Life’, I felt a bit emotional. I had fallen in love with a man who I truly saw a future with, and who used to play a few songs to serenade me while we were dating. ‘Love of My Life’ was one of those songs, and both nights I can remember feeling like I was on the verge of very happy tears just thinking about my love. He was on my mind and in my heart at the time I was being filmed.”

Sarah didn’t know she specifically had been filmed in her moment of quiet reflection, “We did see the cameras at the shows, but I never really noticed them facing me. I assumed they were filming the crowd as a mass of people.”

“Those were my last two shows with Freddie”

Full Interview 👇

https://www.queenonline.com/features/the-girl-in-the-audience-fan-feature-by-patrick-lemieux

➡️ Patrick Lemieux is a Canadian artist and writer. He is co-author (with Adam Unger) of The Queen Chronology book, available at Amazon -

#freddie mercury #queen band #london #zanzibar #legend #queen #brian may #john deacon #freddiebulsara #roger taylor #1980 #montreal #canada #patrick Lemieux #queen on line

[obsessivelollipoplalala]

That's why I love hearing/ reading about their Kensington days, they were literally just college kids before anything happened. Freddie wasn't even in the same band then, but they were friends living together, learning how to be adults together. Imo that's why the band lasted that long too, for 3 of them they had an understanding and a bond that preceded them being co-workers.

It's unclear exactly how long Freddie, Brian, and Roger lived with each other, and in what combination they lived with each other, but they were very close in those days, yeah. I think they lasted so long because quite simply, none of them were total assholes who were willing to break up the band over money, and they didn't do awful shit like sleep with each other's partners and cause so much drama like so many other bands, and they all genuinely really cared about each other, so I don't think they ever liked being angry with each other. Brian has implied as much, at least.

#replies #Anonymous

[joyless-somebody]

Queen Fuckuary Day 5

Prompt: Leather

Video shoots were always tedious and slightly embarrassing but this one seemed to be the worst. The production crew had taken the ‘Elvis-inspired’ idea and ran with it, putting them all in tight leather trousers which left very little to the imagination. Especially when it comes to seeing your on-again-off-again friend with benefits dressed head to toe in leather.

Maybe it was going to be a bit more Elvis than they’d first thought.

The first break they had, Freddie practically dragged Brian by the lapel into the nearest toilets and started on un-buttoning his trousers. Brian just stood there smirking and let him get on with it until he turned around, ass out and pushing towards him.

“No pants, babe?” He chuckled as Freddie blindly swatted back at him.

“Ruins the look, now get on with it.” He pushed his ass back and leaned his head against the door as Brian lined himself up and shoved inside him in one move, “Fuck, I forget how big you are.”

“You won’t forget for a while after this, trust me.” Brian held onto his hips and slowly started to pull out before shoving back inside.

The leather rubbed against Freddie’s ass as the pace slowly increased, until the door rattled and Brian hit that perfect spot every time. “You look so good… so fucking good.” Brian pressed small kisses on his shoulder, working up to just behind his ear, “Come on, come on, I’m so close.”

Neither of them could hold their moans as Brian took Freddie’s cock and gave it a few strokes, both so close to cumming, “Go on, baby, come on.”

Brian was first and stifled his noises in Freddie’s shoulder as he pushed in as far as he could, painting his insides with hot cum, then pulled out as soon as he was done. He pulled Freddie’s trousers back up and carried on stroking him, forcing him to cum in his trousers.

He tried to hold back but the feeling of Brian’s cum in his ass and the hand on his cock ripped the orgasm out of Freddie before he could stop it. He came, hard, and immediately Brian’s hand withdrew and buttoned him back up, leaving him using the door as support where his legs nearly gave out.

“Good, you alright?” Brian hooked an arm around his waist as he caught his breath and nodded, “Come on then, they’re probably waiting for us.”

#queen fuckuary 2024 #freddie mercury #brian may #this is so late #sorry!!

[freddieraimbow74]

‘𝗙𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗲 𝗮𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗲��� 𝗶𝘁, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗥𝗼𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻‘𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗜𝗧 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗯𝘂𝗺!‘

Brian May on the Complex Legacy of Queen's Best-Selling Single:

"To be honest, it wasn't going down very well with the rest of us. You know, Roger actually didn't want to have it on the album."

Brian May reflected on the creative challenges behind "Another One Bites the Dust", noting how Roger Taylor "didn't want to have it on the album".

Released as the fourth and penultimate single from the 1980 LP "The Game", "Another One Bites the Dust" is widely credited as the British rock giants' best-selling singles, as well as a shining example of bassist John Deacon's songcraft. Combining funk and rock elements, the song was quite the departure for Queen, but, as Brian May tells Guitar World in a new interview, Deacon was "hell-bent on getting what he wants."

"Well, I don't think I was in it at all to start off with! Because he's hell-bent on getting what he wants. So it's his rhythm guitar playing – it's not mine. That very funky style, that's John. Oh yeah. And he wanted Roger to have a sort of disco-type sound. And it's all done on a loop, so Roger reluctantly put loads of tape on his drums and played very stiff, and Deacy made a loop out of it. So it starts to be unnatural at that point. It's a damn good loop, though, and it’s beautiful. And Deacy did the bass, Deacy did the rhythm."

And while Freddie Mercury "adored" the process, the guitarist notes how Roger Taylor was reluctant to even have it released as part of "The Game":

"He worked with Freddie on the vocal. Deacy didn't sing, so he would tell Freddie what the words were, and play the tune on the guitar. You can imagine it was quite a strange process. Freddie absolutely adored it. He just stepped into it with a vengeance. And he sang it until he bled! He was forcing himself to get those high notes and he loved it. Freddie really was such a driving force."

"Because, to be honest, it wasn't going down very well with the rest of us. You know, Roger actually didn't want to have it on the album, didn't like it. It was much too funky and not enough rock for him. I was a bit on the fence. I kind of enjoyed it. But it obviously wasn't the rock that I would have been creating. And I remember saying, 'Look, it needs a little bit of something a bit more dirty on it.'"

"I remember Michael Jackson hearing it and saying, 'That's where I want to be. That's what I want to do.' And I think his whole album which followed ['Thriller'] was deeply influenced by 'Another One Bites The Dust' and the fact that it straddled funk and rock. Michael came to the same place from a different direction. Very interesting!"

"It's actually still evolving, which is quite something after all these years. So every time we do it, it gets a little bit of a different drift. And I enjoy it a lot more these days. Because we have made it our own I suppose. It’s quite heavy. And we do it early in the set at the moment, which is quite adventurous. It’s in the sort of rock part of the set, which in the beginning you never would have thought."

"That song is a very important part of the Queen canon. It's perhaps our biggest song ever in terms of sales. I'm not sure, but it must be close."

Source: Ultimate Guitar (Mar 13, 2024)

#freddie mercury #queen band #brian may #roger taylor #jhon deacon #musique #music #j’adore #queen #original character