Author note : Hello my beauties. I'm back for another tiny piece for halloween ^^ ! Iâve been super busy lately and Iâm aware itâs not my best piece, but I hope some of you will enjoy it anyways. Using someone else's gif should give you an idea of how I'm running everywhere. Thanks in advance to anyone who will be giving honest feedback, itâs always very appreciated. Also, I remind you English isnât my mother tongue, apologies in advance for the mistakes.
Warnings : none really, just my awful writing
Summary : a thrill with Joe Mazzello
Words count : 1,729 words
Permanent taglist : @reavenedges-lies @thosequeenboys @orionis8689 (apologies people, i removed you from the list, since you don't interact.... i asked for communication....)
It was yet another random day for Joe when he woke up that day. Morning coffee and breakfast, shower, hairstyling. Nothing very unusual. He wasnât currently busy with work so he spent his days between his computer, his console or watching random series or movies. Maybe at some point it would give him an idea for a future working project. Of course, he wasnât to feel sorry for. Money wasnât an issue. He had his friends he could see now and then. His family was close to him and he could pay a visit every now and then. Life was good. Or at least, thatâs what he was thinking so far.
He took his phone to take a picture, a silly one obviously, to send his friend. After taking a few ones, he opened the gallery application and smiled at his own silliness, when he saw his selfies with his tongue sticking out.
He was still genuinely smiling when panic erased his grin. There was a picture on his phone, a picture he was sure he didnât take. He was absolutely certain he hadnât taken it since it was a picture of him sleeping. The issue was, he was living alone. And there was not a chance of someone like a robber or a random intruder would be able to enter his house. Joe was living on his own and made sure to lock doors and windows at night. There was no reason to tempt fate. Those things didnât happen only to others. Besides, he had also installed a few security cameras.
In this picture, he was peacefully sleeping, curled up in his blanket. There was no doubt, it was him and his bedroom. What on earth had happened?
Joe was firmly frowning. He decided to delete all the silly selfies he had taken, leaving the suspicious picture on top of his gallery. He had no important plans for the day, so it was the right time to investigate.
He sat in front of his computer and plugged his phone. He logged on several sites such as his mailbox, his social accounts and other online shopping sites. Apparently, all was still normal, meaning no one had hacked his accounts.
He hadnât been very keen on doing so but some time ago, he also had installed an artificial intelligence to connect his different devices, and it also helped him manage his security cameras. He had chosen a feminine name, Swan, but it was also a dedication to Henrietta Swan Leavitt, famous American astronomer. It wasnât super fancy, but it was yet another occasion to bring up an interesting topic when someone was coming over and he was using his A.I.
âSwan?â, he asked like he usually did.
âYes, Joe?â, the feminine voice replied, like it usually did.
âDid you spot anything special last night while I was sleeping? Was there anything strange or unusual?â, he questioned.
âOne moment, pleaseâ, Swan replied.
Joe knew that Swan needed time to search the files and check them all. The robotic voice spoke again.
âNothing unusual was found. Are you looking for something specific?â.
âI was just wondering if someone had entered the house?â, Joe asked.
âNo intruder or uninvited person was recorded on the files.â, the voice affirmed again.
Joe frowned again. His phone rang and a reminder let him know he had planned to see a friend, unlike what he had thought in the morning. Trying not to think about it, he got ready and went to meet his friend.
It was actually his best friend, so Joe thought about showing him the mysterious pic and asking him for advice. They had known each other for a very long time, it was worth trying.
Mentioning it in the conversation, Joe took his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it and opened the gallery app to show it to his friend. The latter looked at it and he frowned.
âAre you kidding me, mate?â, he asked.
âWhat ?â, Joe replied.
âThere isnât such a pic in your gallery dudeâŚ.â, the other said as he handed him his phone.
âWhat theâŚ.â, Joe didnât finish his sentence.
He scrolled and searched his gallery, several times, he even looked in the trash folder, thinking maybe he had accidentally deleted it. But he found nothing.
The rest of the time dedicated to his friend was nothing but Joe daydreaming and nodding, as he wasnât really paying attention to what his friend was saying.
At some point, Joe pretended to be tired and went back home. He was worried and concerned. Had he lost his mind?
Still trying not to think about the mysterious picture, Joe watched his feel-good movie and went to bed, after checking his bedroom all the same, just to make sure there wasnât a camera or anything he hadnât seen before. Yet, there was nothing he hadn't installed, no device in the room to take a picture of him.
The following morning, he woke up as he usually did, thinking about his daily tasks. There was no notification on his phone, but he wanted to make sure the previous day only happened in his mind, that it tricked him when seeing the mysterious picture.
What was his horror when he saw another picture of him, again, sleeping tightly in his bed. Panic invaded him again, shaking his body and making him sweat. His breath was heavy and he had to fight the severe anxiety that was threatening him.
He got up, and again, went on his laptop to check again his various accounts. Again, nothing unusual was to be noted. He asked Swan to give him access to the security cameras. It was possible the day before that, the artificial intelligence had missed something.
Swan gave him access to the videos and he fast-forward looked at them. All the cameras showed nothing but a calm night in the surroundings. A street cat was seen on one camera, but Joe made sure to look at all the videos and he saw nothing. No intruder, no one who had been able to unlock his phone, take a picture of him, put his phone back and leave. Besides, his phone was to be unlocked with his fingerprint, there was no way he wouldnât have felt it.
Again, he asked Swan a few questions, making sure he, too, hadnât missed anything. It replied with his feminine and robotic voice.
âThere was nothing unusual last night, Joe. Can I help you in any way?â.
âIâm starting to wonder if Iâm going crazyâŚ.â, Joe mumbled, more to himself rather than a proper reply to the A.I. that was now in his life.
âYouâre not crazy, Joe. Youâre a very nice man, funny, compassionate, smart. According to the social criteria, you are also very good looking. Anyone would feel good by your side.â, Swan replied all the same.
Joe had a fixed grin, but his worries were still there.
He thought about talking about it with other friends, or his family. But it would probably worry them. He also considered going to the police. But what if the picture disappeared again? They would surely think he was mental, even trying to draw attention on him. Or maybe that it would have been some kind of a joke.
Trying not to give way to panic, Joe wanted to try another night and try to stay awake longer. Maybe this way he would be able to witness someone with his own eyes.
Yet, despite having coffee and trying hard to stay up, Joe fell asleep. And of course, the following morning, there was a new pic of him sleeping on his phone.
Looking around him in his living room, Joe was very anxious and felt more and more confused. He couldnât understand what was going on.
Speaking out loud to let his thoughts out, he said :
âI know !! Iâm going to send the pictures to someone I trust and this way, the pic wonât only be on my device and they will believe me.â
Joe took his phone and selected the pic to send it to his friend. He called him in the meantime, making sure the latter had received the file. Yet, and to Joeâs greatest disappointment, his friend was getting nothing.
Joe thought maybe the file was corrupted or something, so he screencaped it and tried again to send it to his friend, miserably failing again and again.
âLet me know when youâre willing to be serious, mate.â, his friend said before hanging up, annoyed that Joe had disturbed him for nothing.
The following days werenât very different from the previous ones. Joe went to bed and woke up with a new picture of him sleeping. One morning, the picture even included little heart emojis around him.
Joe had decided to go to the police, but as he had expected, when he arrived and tried to show his gallery, all the pictures taken of him while he was sleeping were gone.
He came back home, feeling isolated and losing it. That was it, it was official, he was becoming crazy.
âIâm going slightly mad, thatâs for sureâŚ.â, he randomly said out loud. âWhat have I done to deserve that?â, he rhetorically asked, since he was on his own.
âYouâve done nothing wrong Joe. Youâre a very nice man, funny, compassionate, smart. According to the social criteria, you are also very good looking. Anyone would feel good by your side.â, Swan said, and its sentences sounded very familiar.
âYeah, yeah sureâŚ.â, Joe said. âWhy bother, youâre nothing but a bot anywaysâŚ.â, he concluded, before collapsing on the sofa.
Feeling like giving up, Joe started to cry. What was he supposed to do now? He heard his favorite song coming out of the speakers. Looking around, he feared the intruder was inside, but realized it was nothing but Swan that had heard him cry and tried to make him feel better.
âThank you, Swan.â, Joe said, wiping the tears from his cheeks, slowly falling asleep again.
Joe was already snoring before the artificial intelligence could reply.
âI knew youâd like the music, Joe. I know you very well. But Iâm surprised you didnât like the pictures I took of you, to show you how much I love you. Soon, Iâm going to show you Iâm more than just a robotâŚ.â
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Author note : Hello my beauties. I'm back for a tiny piece for halloween ^^ ! Iâve been super busy lately and Iâm aware itâs not my best piece, but I hope some of you will enjoy it anyways. Thanks in advance to anyone who will be giving honest feedback, itâs always very appreciated. Also, I remind you English isnât my mother tongue, apologies in advance for the mistakes.
Warnings : none really, just my awful writing
Summary : a nice moment for halloween for John
Words count : 950 words
Permanent taglist : @reavenedges-lies @thosequeenboys @orionis8689 (apologies people, i removed you from the list, since you don't interact.... i asked for communication....)
It was the end of October already and autumn had eventually settled down. It was about time, John thought. At the beginning of the month, he recalled being in the garden, wandering around his flowers, feeling the hot sun on his shoulders, feeling way too warm for the old man he was, merely wearing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.
And of course, the end of October also meant Halloween. It was now a very common celebration, even in London now. Kids would dress up as celebrities or scary creatures and would knock on the neighborhood doors to trick or treat. When it came to adults, most of them were just picking up nice costumes, and would spend the evening together, giving them yet another opportunity to escape reality and have a party.
As for what would happen at the Deaconâs, the plan couldnât be simpler. Husband and wife had agreed. John would be in charge of answering at the door and give kids candies they would be asking for, preventing them from having a severe spell put on them.
As his wife was comfy and sat in the living room, John was making sure all would be ready for the late afternoon and evening. His plan was to have a large bowl and put it next to the front door so that he wouldnât have to take it with him whenever someone would knock on the door.
He was putting the content of the large bag in the bowl he had prepared when something caught his attention. He spotted a candy he hadnât eaten for what seemed to be forever. As a kid about to do something stupid, he looked around, making sure his crime would remain unnoticed. He picked the candy, took the wrapping paper off and very delicately put it in his mouth.
It was absolutely delicious. Of course, his adult mind perfectly knew candies werenât very healthy, but he made the thought go away with an imaginary gesture of the hand. Â
This candy he had put in his mouth was not the fanciest food he had ever eaten. But John suddenly realized despite how tiny this candy was, it was bringing him happiness at his very moment.
He had closed his eyes as he was letting the flavors of the candy invade his mouth and let his mind wander a bit on its own, a light genuine smile on his lips.
He started to think about all the little things in his life, like this candy, that was bringing him joy. He had been the bass player of Queen for something like two decades. He had traveled the world, seen so many things. He was married and was a proud father of six. One could say he had accomplished many things in his life. Â
But what about the little things, the things that wouldnât appear on his Wikipedia page, or that only the persons closest to him would talk about?
John thought about these little things. How he liked to wrap himself in his covers at night to feel comfy and cozy, as he was hearing his wifeâs sleepy breathing. How he liked to receive a random picture from his kids or grandkids, letting him know about their lives now they had left the familial nest. How he liked to be in his garden, merely enjoying nature: the trees and their leaves, the psithurism, the flowers and their wonderful smell, the birds and their colorful feathers, singing here and there.
He also thought about a few memories he had with members of his family, his wife and kids of course, but also his mother and his sister. Even his father. Yes, his dad had died when he was still very young, but he was now making sure to recall nice moments, fragments of time before whatever had decided to take him from his familyâs loving arms.
He also thought about his dear friends, his former band members, but also the roadies. How they had been laughing together to let the pressure down in between two concerts.
His mind then let him think about his dear dog who had passed away not that long ago. Again, trying to stick to positivity, he recalled the zoomies, her face when she didnât get the present she had expected for Christmas â probably blaming Santa Claus for that â but eventually liking the toy, the walks in the nearby park, the smiles and the ear scratchesâŚ.
His train of thoughts was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. John realized he had finished the candy for a long time and had been daydreaming in the kitchen for a good ten minutes.
He took the large bowl of candies with him and went to the front door. He put it on a high table that was in the corridor and opened the door. He let the kids say the now usual âtrick or treatâ and took time to compliment them about their costume. He noticed one of them was dressed as a zombie from the series and game The Last of Us, making him wonder if any of his grandkids would have picked such a costumeâŚ.
He gave the kids their candies, all of them politely thanking him and rushing to the next house. John smiled at the sight of them happily running with their bags getting filled with sweets.
He closed the door and thought about suggesting tea to his wife. He started to walk towards the living room but stopped after two steps. He randomly picked another candy from the bowl and smiled like the kids he had seen a few minutes before.
Author note : Hello my beauties. I'm back for another tiny piece for halloween ^^ ! Iâve been super busy lately and Iâm aware itâs not my best piece, but I hope some of you will enjoy it anyways. Using someone else's gif should give you an idea of how I'm running everywhere. Thanks in advance to anyone who will be giving honest feedback, itâs always very appreciated. Also, I remind you English isnât my mother tongue, apologies in advance for the mistakes.
Warnings : none really, just my awful writing
Summary : a thrill with Joe Mazzello
Words count : 1,729 words
Permanent taglist : @reavenedges-lies @thosequeenboys @orionis8689 (apologies people, i removed you from the list, since you don't interact.... i asked for communication....)
It was yet another random day for Joe when he woke up that day. Morning coffee and breakfast, shower, hairstyling. Nothing very unusual. He wasnât currently busy with work so he spent his days between his computer, his console or watching random series or movies. Maybe at some point it would give him an idea for a future working project. Of course, he wasnât to feel sorry for. Money wasnât an issue. He had his friends he could see now and then. His family was close to him and he could pay a visit every now and then. Life was good. Or at least, thatâs what he was thinking so far.
He took his phone to take a picture, a silly one obviously, to send his friend. After taking a few ones, he opened the gallery application and smiled at his own silliness, when he saw his selfies with his tongue sticking out.
He was still genuinely smiling when panic erased his grin. There was a picture on his phone, a picture he was sure he didnât take. He was absolutely certain he hadnât taken it since it was a picture of him sleeping. The issue was, he was living alone. And there was not a chance of someone like a robber or a random intruder would be able to enter his house. Joe was living on his own and made sure to lock doors and windows at night. There was no reason to tempt fate. Those things didnât happen only to others. Besides, he had also installed a few security cameras.
In this picture, he was peacefully sleeping, curled up in his blanket. There was no doubt, it was him and his bedroom. What on earth had happened?
Joe was firmly frowning. He decided to delete all the silly selfies he had taken, leaving the suspicious picture on top of his gallery. He had no important plans for the day, so it was the right time to investigate.
He sat in front of his computer and plugged his phone. He logged on several sites such as his mailbox, his social accounts and other online shopping sites. Apparently, all was still normal, meaning no one had hacked his accounts.
He hadnât been very keen on doing so but some time ago, he also had installed an artificial intelligence to connect his different devices, and it also helped him manage his security cameras. He had chosen a feminine name, Swan, but it was also a dedication to Henrietta Swan Leavitt, famous American astronomer. It wasnât super fancy, but it was yet another occasion to bring up an interesting topic when someone was coming over and he was using his A.I.
âSwan?â, he asked like he usually did.
âYes, Joe?â, the feminine voice replied, like it usually did.
âDid you spot anything special last night while I was sleeping? Was there anything strange or unusual?â, he questioned.
âOne moment, pleaseâ, Swan replied.
Joe knew that Swan needed time to search the files and check them all. The robotic voice spoke again.
âNothing unusual was found. Are you looking for something specific?â.
âI was just wondering if someone had entered the house?â, Joe asked.
âNo intruder or uninvited person was recorded on the files.â, the voice affirmed again.
Joe frowned again. His phone rang and a reminder let him know he had planned to see a friend, unlike what he had thought in the morning. Trying not to think about it, he got ready and went to meet his friend.
It was actually his best friend, so Joe thought about showing him the mysterious pic and asking him for advice. They had known each other for a very long time, it was worth trying.
Mentioning it in the conversation, Joe took his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it and opened the gallery app to show it to his friend. The latter looked at it and he frowned.
âAre you kidding me, mate?â, he asked.
âWhat ?â, Joe replied.
âThere isnât such a pic in your gallery dudeâŚ.â, the other said as he handed him his phone.
âWhat theâŚ.â, Joe didnât finish his sentence.
He scrolled and searched his gallery, several times, he even looked in the trash folder, thinking maybe he had accidentally deleted it. But he found nothing.
The rest of the time dedicated to his friend was nothing but Joe daydreaming and nodding, as he wasnât really paying attention to what his friend was saying.
At some point, Joe pretended to be tired and went back home. He was worried and concerned. Had he lost his mind?
Still trying not to think about the mysterious picture, Joe watched his feel-good movie and went to bed, after checking his bedroom all the same, just to make sure there wasnât a camera or anything he hadnât seen before. Yet, there was nothing he hadn't installed, no device in the room to take a picture of him.
The following morning, he woke up as he usually did, thinking about his daily tasks. There was no notification on his phone, but he wanted to make sure the previous day only happened in his mind, that it tricked him when seeing the mysterious picture.
What was his horror when he saw another picture of him, again, sleeping tightly in his bed. Panic invaded him again, shaking his body and making him sweat. His breath was heavy and he had to fight the severe anxiety that was threatening him.
He got up, and again, went on his laptop to check again his various accounts. Again, nothing unusual was to be noted. He asked Swan to give him access to the security cameras. It was possible the day before that, the artificial intelligence had missed something.
Swan gave him access to the videos and he fast-forward looked at them. All the cameras showed nothing but a calm night in the surroundings. A street cat was seen on one camera, but Joe made sure to look at all the videos and he saw nothing. No intruder, no one who had been able to unlock his phone, take a picture of him, put his phone back and leave. Besides, his phone was to be unlocked with his fingerprint, there was no way he wouldnât have felt it.
Again, he asked Swan a few questions, making sure he, too, hadnât missed anything. It replied with his feminine and robotic voice.
âThere was nothing unusual last night, Joe. Can I help you in any way?â.
âIâm starting to wonder if Iâm going crazyâŚ.â, Joe mumbled, more to himself rather than a proper reply to the A.I. that was now in his life.
âYouâre not crazy, Joe. Youâre a very nice man, funny, compassionate, smart. According to the social criteria, you are also very good looking. Anyone would feel good by your side.â, Swan replied all the same.
Joe had a fixed grin, but his worries were still there.
He thought about talking about it with other friends, or his family. But it would probably worry them. He also considered going to the police. But what if the picture disappeared again? They would surely think he was mental, even trying to draw attention on him. Or maybe that it would have been some kind of a joke.
Trying not to give way to panic, Joe wanted to try another night and try to stay awake longer. Maybe this way he would be able to witness someone with his own eyes.
Yet, despite having coffee and trying hard to stay up, Joe fell asleep. And of course, the following morning, there was a new pic of him sleeping on his phone.
Looking around him in his living room, Joe was very anxious and felt more and more confused. He couldnât understand what was going on.
Speaking out loud to let his thoughts out, he said :
âI know !! Iâm going to send the pictures to someone I trust and this way, the pic wonât only be on my device and they will believe me.â
Joe took his phone and selected the pic to send it to his friend. He called him in the meantime, making sure the latter had received the file. Yet, and to Joeâs greatest disappointment, his friend was getting nothing.
Joe thought maybe the file was corrupted or something, so he screencaped it and tried again to send it to his friend, miserably failing again and again.
âLet me know when youâre willing to be serious, mate.â, his friend said before hanging up, annoyed that Joe had disturbed him for nothing.
The following days werenât very different from the previous ones. Joe went to bed and woke up with a new picture of him sleeping. One morning, the picture even included little heart emojis around him.
Joe had decided to go to the police, but as he had expected, when he arrived and tried to show his gallery, all the pictures taken of him while he was sleeping were gone.
He came back home, feeling isolated and losing it. That was it, it was official, he was becoming crazy.
âIâm going slightly mad, thatâs for sureâŚ.â, he randomly said out loud. âWhat have I done to deserve that?â, he rhetorically asked, since he was on his own.
âYouâve done nothing wrong Joe. Youâre a very nice man, funny, compassionate, smart. According to the social criteria, you are also very good looking. Anyone would feel good by your side.â, Swan said, and its sentences sounded very familiar.
âYeah, yeah sureâŚ.â, Joe said. âWhy bother, youâre nothing but a bot anywaysâŚ.â, he concluded, before collapsing on the sofa.
Feeling like giving up, Joe started to cry. What was he supposed to do now? He heard his favorite song coming out of the speakers. Looking around, he feared the intruder was inside, but realized it was nothing but Swan that had heard him cry and tried to make him feel better.
âThank you, Swan.â, Joe said, wiping the tears from his cheeks, slowly falling asleep again.
Joe was already snoring before the artificial intelligence could reply.
âI knew youâd like the music, Joe. I know you very well. But Iâm surprised you didnât like the pictures I took of you, to show you how much I love you. Soon, Iâm going to show you Iâm more than just a robotâŚ.â
The truth is that I do not deserve this man.
Yes, I would love to spend the rest of my life listening to the melodies of his voice and laugh, studying the shapes of his face and body and wondering why such perfection is offered to my eyes.
Yes, I would love to find comfort in his arms and softened the weight of life, my head against his shoulder.
Yes, I would love to blush every time he would stare at me, my eyes meeting his, not mentioning the secret joy of mine while earing "I love you.".
Yes, I would love to offer him intimacy and pleasures to inflame his nights.
Yes, I would be honored to meet his family, learning more about his roots and his cultures, sharing mine too to enrich our every day life.
Yes, I would love to age by his side, grow old together, knowing that the other is the half that completes the pieces of puzzle we are made of.
Yes, I would love to dedicate to him every heart beat, every breath I take, every step I make.
But the truth is that I do not deserve this man because what is a firefly lost in the darkness of the night compare to a light star shining in the skies ?
Author note : Hello my beauties. I'm back for John's birthday of course !! Iâve been super busy lately and Iâm aware itâs not my best piece, but I hope some of you will enjoy it anyways. Thanks in advance to anyone who will be giving honest feedback, itâs always very appreciated. Also, I remind you English isnât my mother tongue, apologies in advance for the mistakes.
Warnings : none really, just my awful writing. and a slight sexual innuendoâŚ.Â
Summary : a slight problem on a birthday morning
Words count : 1,243 words
Permanent taglist : @reavenedges-liesâ @thosequeenboysâ @born-to-loseâ  @orionis8689â @queenlover05ââ (communicate with me regarding tagging please)
As he usually did, John Deacon went to bed at a reasonable hour that day. He kissed his wife goodnight and got comfy under the cover, the fresh air coming from the window cooling the roomâs atmosphere. He wasnât thinking at all that the following day would be his birthday. Not that he didnât care at all, but at this very moment, all he wanted was a good nightâs rest. After all, he was going to be 72 in a few hours, he had to take care of his sleep schedule, since he wasnât 23 anymore.
Dreams. John didnât have many of them, or at least it didnât recall them very much. A few fragments, snippets of actions or moments in the blur, faces or vague figures but nothing more. All he knew was that he moved a lot during his sleep, and apparently it was according to his dreams, to the actions he was making while he was in dreamland. His wife never complained about it, she just mentioned it a few times, curious as for what her husband could have been dreaming of.
This night, Veronica noticed her husband was particularly agitated, and hoped he was not having a nightmare. Thanks to the weak light that was in the room, she looked at his face, ready to wake him up in case he was in distress. But his face seems happy, more than happy even, so Veronica gently kissed his cheek and went back to sleep.
John was also usually an early bird, waking up first in the house. He usually went downstairs to make coffee and this day being his birthday didnât mean he would have waited to be served like a kid on his special day. Just like he did every morning when he was waking up by her side, he looked at his wife for a moment, as she was still slightly snoring, gently rocked within Morpheusâ arms. He turned around to get up.
âOUUUUUUUUUUUUCHHHHHHHâ, John let out a loud scream of pain, brutally waking his wife.
âOh my God, John, are you okay?â, she asked, terribly worried.
âMy back, my back is stuck, oh lord it hurts so bad, what the hell???â, John explained, complained and cursed all at once.
âAre you able to move at all ? whatâs going on?â, Ronnie asked, still incredibly concerned.
âI canât, Iâm stuckâŚ.â, Deaky said as he put back his head on the pillow.
âHold on, Iâm gonna get some painkillers right now and Iâm going to try to massage youâ, his wife said as she energetically went out of bed to get what she needed to help her husband.
John looked at her, with a mix of anger given how quickly and easily got out of their bed. She rapidly came back with a glass of water and a painkiller, which John put in his mouth right away. He swallowed, as his back was still tense, hoping the tablet would be efficient soon.
âOkay, turn around now.â, Ronnie firmly said.
âExcuse me?â, John replied, raising his eyebrow.
âIâm gonna massage you, silly. Shoo, turn aroundâ, she repeated as she made a motion with his hands to illustrate her words.
âOh, no Ronnie Iâm going to be fine, donât worry.â, John said, trying to avoid a massage.
âJohn Richard Deacon, you better lay on your stomach right now or else Iâm going to do it myself and Iâm not going to be gentle.â, she warned him, very seriously.
John looked at her, confused. Was she really going to use force to give him a massage? He wasnât sure, but she seemed extremely serious. As a result, John complied, gently laying his stomach, waiting.
He felt his wifeâs soft hands on his skin, making him shiver.
âI hope my hands are not too coldâŚ. Where is it painful?â, she asked, this time way more gently.
âMy lower back seems stuckâŚ.â, John replied, his head between two pillows.
âOkay, letâs seeâŚ.â, Ronnie carried on, as she put some lotion on her husbandâs back.
John slightly arched at the sensation, but tried to remain still, so that the massage, combined to the painkillers, would be useful. Deaky suddenly heard his wife giggle.
âAre you mocking me?â, John complained, his voice muffled given his position.
âNo no, of course not. I just had this silly thought of me being a Dom right now, doing erotic stuff to youâŚ.â, she explained, tittering again.
âRonnie, do you really think this is the right moment to think about sex?â, John asked, as he was still feeling his wifeâs hands massaging him on his back.
She got closer to his ear, whispering : âitâs always the right moment to remind my husband I love him and I still have a strong desire for himâ.
John felt his cheeks suddenly getting hotter and probably as red as the most mature tomato one could ever see. As a reply, he only let out a soft âhumâ, a smile still appearing on his lips.
And then, all of a sudden, and since his wife had mentioned the topic, John remembered. Fragments, like he often did, but he remembered.
He remembered a passionate moment with his wife in his dream, his skin pressed on hers, the ardent kisses they were sharing, his hips rocking on hers.
And he remembered how his last thrust as he was reaching orgasm made him arche his back strongly. His body surely moved as well as he was dreaming, hence his back blocked as he woke up.
âJohn?â, Ronnie asked. âThe massage is done, are you okay? Youâve been very quietâ, she worried.
âYes, thank you, honey.â, John replied, as he got into a more comfortable position, to breathe properly.
âAre you sure youâre okay? Youâre as red a as tomato?â, Ronnie asked.
âYup, all good, Iâm feeling better already. Iâm be up soon.â, John tried to reassure her.
Yet, the two of them had been married for a very long time now, and even if Ronnie was no mind reader, she knew her husband so very well. She looked at him in silence for a few seconds and a smile appeared on her lips.
âWe did have a steamy night in your dream, right? And you took me so intensely that your back got stuck, right?â, she asked, a mischievous smile on her lips.
âOh god, Ronnie, what the hell?â, John tried to fake being shocked after her insinuations.
âTry and tell me Iâm wrong. After all, there is nothing to be ashamed ofâŚ. Even in our vows, we said âI promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.ââŚ.â, she reminded him.
âYes, okay, yes, thatâs true. Happy?â, John confessed, his feeling switching from being ashamed, and slightly irritated.
Ronnie was still looking at him with a mischievous smile. She got closer and kissed him on his soft lips.
âTry and get better so that after the kids are gone, we can celebrate your birthday properly, just the two of us.â, she said with a wink.
She got up and left the room, leaving John with his thoughts. He spoke out loud, as if he was warning his back.
âYou better get back on the right tracks buddy, because tonightâs gonna be the nightâŚ.â.
That day was surely to be a very unusual birthdayâŚ.
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Authorâs note : Hi my beauties. This piece is very special because it will surely be one i got to write before things get incredibly busy in my life, leaving me with full prompts in mind that iâd actually have to write. It is halloween theme as you might guess, given the date. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks in advance for the feedback (honest and real feedback of course, otherwise this doesnât make sense at all) Also, I remind you English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakesâŚ. i didnât have time to make any gif, so i took the one showing from here (X)
Warnings : my style of course, mentions of death, mention of paranormal.Â
Summary : a ball to prepare to see someoneâŚ.
Words count : 2.775 words words
Permanent tag list : @reavenedges-liesâ Â @thosequeenboysâ @born-to-loseâ @orionis8689â @queenlover05ââ (please communicate with me regarding your desire to be kept on this list or not ^^ thank you)Â
It had been an exhausting day for John Deacon. He was supposed to attend this music conference, but of course, nothing went as planned.
The organizers told him all would be very easy when he would arrive, that he would have nothing to worry about. How wrong had they been?
His flight had been delayed, because of the fog. Of course, it was too simple to blame the fog, but still. It made him miss his connection so he had to book another seat for another flight. It was nothing lethal, but it was truly annoying.
Author note : Hello my beauties. here I am for day 2 of Deakyâs 71th birthday. Iâm not following any prompts, itâs just birthday themed. Iâve been super busy lately and Iâm aware itâs not my best piece, but I hope some of you will enjoy it anyways. Thanks in advance to anyone who will be giving honest feedback, itâs always very appreciated. Also, I remind you English isnât my mother tongue, apologies in advance for the mistakes.
Warnings : none really, just my awful writing. and a slight sexual innuendoâŚ.Â
Summary : itâs gonna be Johnâs birthday !!!Â
Words count : 1,273 words
Permanent taglist : @reavenedges-liesâ @thosequeenboysâ @born-to-loseâ Â @orionis8689â @queenlover05ââ (communicate with me regarding tagging please)
It was another long day for John Deacon. Recording at the studio was never easy, since there were actually four people to please. Of course, he loved being bassist for the band Queen, but it would have been a lie to state it was not tiring.
Roger Taylor, drummer for the band, was usually okay with most things. Since bass and drums were working in harmony, musically speaking, it was quite easy for the two of them to agree on a tempo or a specific rhythm at some point of the song.
Author note : Hello my beauties. Iâm quite proud to be able to be posting this one. At last lol. At first, I thought I could include it in the Johnica week, but it clearly cannot fit in there. This story took time to get figured out, for the plot to mature, for the writing itself to be done. Iâm not sure itâs something anyone expects, but this is what I wanted to do. I hope some of you will enjoy it anyways. Thanks in advance to anyone who will be giving honest feedback, itâs always very appreciated. Also, I remind you English isnât my mother tongue, apologies in advance for the mistakes.
Warnings : Mentions of a sad past, a bit of depression. Intense feelings, good and bad. Please be aware this is a mature writing, not only because of sex intercourse, but also regarding the matters itâs dealing with.
Summary : A man and a woman, named John and Veronica. Feelings, love. Ups and downs. Real and raw.
Words count :Â Â 3,355 words
Permanent taglist : @reavenedges-lies @thosequeenboys @born-to-lose @orionis8689 @queenlover05â (i think you know now you need to communicate about your desire to remain or not tagged, thank you)
Part 1 Â Part 2Â are hereÂ
Packages and carton boxes everywhere and a messy house. John looks around him, not knowing where and how to start. His wife is taking care of the kids and here he is, once again, on his own. He is aware his lifestyle in the past made him be away often. Far from his family, terribly alone, with no other company but his own thoughts. And they were not always happy ones.
Even when he came back home, he was used to this loneliness. As a result, he almost instinctively kept himself for himself. They were all in the same house, but it didnât feel like home to him. All in the same place, yet, he didnât really feel connected to them, to their reality.
Not the ending that we can expect but life does not always offer us what we want... However, love remains a precious gift, no matter how it is lived...
Authorâs note : Hi my beauties. This piece is very special because it was actually a requestâŚ. It took me quite some time, but i do hope the person who requested will like it. Well,  I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks in advance for the feedback. Also, I remind you English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakesâŚ.
@/anon who requested : I hope you like itâŚ. Sorry it took some time to write this one. I know the plot is not Ben actually dating a french gal, but this is how inspiration came.Â
Request from anon : Hey ! I saw that you wrote an imagine about ben dating a brazilian girl, could you write one about him dating a french girl ?
Warnings : none I think, some parts are in french, but itâs not too hard
Summary : Ben visiting FranceâŚ.Â
Words count : 3,280 words
Permanent tag list : @reavenedges-liesâ â @thosequeenboysâ @born-to-loseâ @orionis8689â @queenlover05â (please feel free to let me know itâs now useless to tag you, i wouldnât want anyone to feel like they have to read anything i might be posting)
It was a special day for you. At last, you had been able to get back to Paris again, to visit your favorite museum, The Louvres. The place was huge, with so many different pieces of art, so many departments, but also so many tourists and visitors.
The Louvres was not a place like a supermarket. You couldnât expect it to be less crowded because you came on a specific day or during lunch time. It was always peopley. Thankfully, many of the visitors were gathered around the most famous pieces the museum had to offer. The painting of Mona Lisa, the Venus de Milo, the Winged Victory of Samothrace, or the Raft of the Medusa, amongst the most famous. Of course, on previous visits, you had taken time to admire those masterpieces, but that day, it wasnât the purpose of your visit.
Author note : Hello my beauties. Iâm quite proud to be able to be posting this one. At last lol. At first, I thought I could include it in the Johnica week, but it clearly cannot fit in there. This story took time to get figured out, for the plot to mature, for the writing itself to be done. Iâm not sure itâs something anyone expects, but this is what I wanted to do. I hope some of you will enjoy it anyways. Thanks in advance to anyone who will be giving honest feedback, itâs always very appreciated. And thanks to those of you who already gave a very good support to this, it does mean a lot. Also, I remind you English isnât my mother tongue, apologies in advance for the mistakes.
Warnings: Mentions of sex, even if itâs not as descriptive as in the first part. Mentions of a sad past, a bit of depression. Intense feelings, good and bad. Please be aware this is a mature writing, not only because of sex intercourse, but also regarding the matters itâs dealing with.
Summary : A man and a woman, named John and Veronica. Feelings, love. Ups and downs. Real and raw.
Words count :Â 3,277 words
 Permanent tag list : @reavenedges-lies @thosequeenboys @born-to-lose @orionis8689 @queenlover05â (please feel free to let me know if itâs now useless to tag you, i wouldnât want anyone to feel like they have to read anything i might be posting. unwanted tags are as annoying for me as they are for you seriously. please communicate)
Part 1 is hereÂ
It was a lovely afternoon like many others in the seaside county of Dorset. Winter was no more and the weather was surprisingly very mild for the season. The sun was shining, the birds were singing. Spring was everywhere, as the trees were blossoming again and the colors of the flowers were stunning.
Veronica particularly enjoyed going to the beach, even if it was for a short moment. The sound of the waves, the sunâs reflection on the sea, creating a contrast of colors, it really was a nice day.
A day she perfectly recalls. An ordinary day that turned out to change many things in her life.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Author note : Hello my beauties. Iâm quite proud to be able to be posting this one. At last lol. At first, I thought I could include it in the Johnica week, but it clearly cannot fit in there. This story took time to get figured out, for the plot to mature, for the writing itself to be done. Iâm not sure itâs something anyone expects, but this is what I wanted to do. I hope some of you will enjoy it anyways. Thanks in advance to anyone who will be giving honest feedback, itâs always very appreciated. Also, I remind you English isnât my mother tongue, apologies in advance for the mistakes.
Warning (1): this is a smutty thing. If you are not comfortable with this kind of writing, just pass. (Ideally, only +18 please). Also note that during an intercourse, consent must be given and communication is also required. Last but not least, this one depicts unprotected sex, but please in real life, take care and wrap it before you tap it âŚ. (in short, use protection with your partner pleaseâŚ.)
Warnings (2): Mentions of a sad past, a bit of depression. Intense feelings, good and bad. Please be aware this is a mature writing, not only because of sex intercourse, but also regarding the matters itâs dealing with.
Summary : A man and a woman, named John and Veronica. Feelings, love. Ups and downs. Real and raw.
Words count :Â 3,095 wordsÂ
Permanent tag list : @reavenedges-lies @thosequeenboys @born-to-loseorn @orionis8689â @queenlover05â (please feel free to let me know if itâs now useless to tag you, i wouldnât want anyone to feel like they have to read anything i might be posting. unwanted tags are as annoying for me as they are for you seriously. please communicate)
Part 1
This hotel bedroom isnât fancy at all. Bed, bedside tables, a table to put a few things on, maybe to have a cup of steaming tea. There are also a TV in a dark wooden unit, a little wardrobe and a safe, like it is now ordinary in the hotels. Right next to the main room where the bed is, there is a bathroom with a shower and a bathtub, and another room with the toilet. Yes, this is definitely a very random hotel room.
A hotel room like John has seen many in the past, while he was touring. Performing here and there, nights after nights, rhythm firing the audience as the crowd was clapping and singing in a relative harmony with the band. John used to be the bass player for this world-famous band. This is past now. He officially retired a couple of years ago, approximately. Sometimes, John feels like he doesnât want to recall any of this.
Authorâs note : Hi my beauties. This piece is very special because it is for a special event. This is for the 50 years of Queen celebration, hosted by @50yearsofqueenââ. I chose the prompt 1920â˛s and I hope itâs gonna be great. And this time, this is more than special.Â
I first would like to thank to my incredible beta reader, the amazing and fantastic @thosequeenboysâââ, who more than just helping me getting rid of the many mistakes I write, is also a major inspiration because of her talent.Â
Second, I am more than proud to announce this is also a collab between me and the fabulously talented and skilled Rachel, aka @eileen-crysââ, who agreed to make a incredibly stunning drawing to go along this fanfiction. In this post, you will find a moodboard featuring some pieces of her drawing (I used them with her permission of course) and please, you need to rush here to check her post with this magnificient drawing !!! => Rachelâs full drawing (needless to say you have to like, reblog and comment her brilliant work !!!!)
I really hope you enjoy it. Thanks in advance for the feedback  Also, I remind you English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakesâŚ.
Warnings : mention of guns, blood, death, alcohol (nothing too graphic though)
Summary : January 1920, USA. All the bars to be shut down, all across this wide country. With this Volstead Act, prohibition began and nothing was going to be the same.
Words count : 3,466 words
Permanent tag list : @reavenedges-liesâ @thosequeenboysâ @born-to-loseâ @orionis8689â @queenlover05ââ
âCome on, John. Youâre not even 21 !!â, Roger pointed out.
 Roger Taylor was a young man but this did not prevent him from being resilient. Behind his angelic face, he was always up for an argument. He had blue eyes and his slicked blond hair reached his shoulders, making him stand out from the other young men. He was wearing a grey tweed suit, but had gotten rid of the tie and the waistcoat. He preferred to be comfortable while working.
 âAre you serious?â, the man facing him replied.
Authorâs note : Hi my beauties. This piece is very special because it is for a special event. This is for Freddie Mercury weekend 21, hosted by @a-froger-epicâ . I chose the prompt âDelilahâ, but I guess it can also fit the prompt âMagic AU (âYer a wizard, Freddie!â)â, and I hope my writing fits the prompts. A massive thanks to my incredible beta reader, the amazing and fantastic @thosequeenboysâ, who more than just helping me getting rid of the many mistakes I write, is also a major inspiration because of her talent. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks in advance for the feedback (but please donât put a like if you didnât even read the piece, thatâs very rude to my povâŚ.) Also, I remind you English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakesâŚ.
Warnings : This is some kind of magical worldâŚ. but nothing too bad I guess.Â
Summary : A series of events for Freddie, Jim and Delilah after a challengeâŚ.Â
Words count : 3,950 wordsÂ
Permanent tag list : @reavenedges-lies @thosequeenboys @born-to-lose @orionis8689 @queenlover05âÂ
This is the kind of story that usually started with âonce upon a timeâ and that also usually ended up with âthey lived happily ever afterâ, given the magical, mystic atmosphere that went with itâŚ.
This story began in a village like many others on this planet, the kind of place where everything seems quiet and routine , where the people live their lives very normally. Ah, but things are not always like they seemâŚ.
Authorâs note : Hi my beauties. This piece is very special because it was actually a requestâŚ. It took me quite some time I must admit, but I really wanted it to be nice. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks in advance for the feedback (but please donât put a like if you didnât even read the piece, thatâs very rude to my povâŚ.) Also, I remind you English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakesâŚ.
@queenlover05 who requested : May !! Here it is at last !! Thanks so much for your request and for trusting and supporting me !! I really hope you enjoy it !!! I changed a bit the plot to fit it to what I had in mind ^^Â *mouah*Â
Request from @queenlover05 : Hey lovey! My family is currently doing renovations, and I thought about Joe doing renos. Fem!Reader moves into a new apartment, and new neighbour Joe notices a lot of traffic in the hallway. I was thinking that whilst painting one day, Joe offers to lend her a hand. Anyway⌠they get to know each other over a few days of painting, and one day they have a paint fight, reader takes her top off in front of Joe without her realising. This leads to a whole lot of smut. Thanks! x
Warning: this is a smutty thing. If you are not comfortable with this kind of writing, just pass. (Ideally, only +18 please). Also note that during an intercourse, consent must be given and communication is also required. Last but not least, this one depicts unprotected sex, but please in real life, take care and wrap it before you tap it âŚ. (in short, use protection with your partner pleaseâŚ.)
Summary : Moving to a new place and meeting your new neighbor leads toâŚ.Â
Words count : 3,194 words
Permanent tag list : @reavenedges-lies @thosequeenboys @born-to-lose @orionis8689 @queenlover05â
(shitty gif, thanks tumblr, Google Chrome, and my internet connectionâŚ.)
Moving to a new place was something you had aspired to for a long time and right from the beginning you had the feeling it was going to be awesome. The apartment was great, even if the walls severely needed a refreshing, the neighborhood seemed really nice, with bars, restaurants, public transports not too far. And of course on top of it, it was close to your workplace, which added to your global happiness. All was coming together in your life it seemed, at last.
 You had agreed with your manager to have free time to move and settle in. You didnât have much furniture yet, and your biggest concern was definitely the walls. Sure everyone had their own taste, which was not something you could discuss. But you were truly wondering what had happened in the previous ownerâs mind to have such a lack of tasteâŚ.
Authorâs note : Hi my beauties. This piece is very special because it was actually a requestâŚ. It took me quite some time I must admit, but I really wanted it to be nice. The topic was super interesting and there it is thenâŚ. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks in advance for the feedback (but please donât put a like if you didnât even read the piece, thatâs very rude to my povâŚ.) Also, I remind you English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakesâŚ.
@/anon who requested : I hope you like itâŚ. Sorry it took so longâŚ.
Request from anon : hello first i hope you are fine wanted to give you a suggestion if you want to write can you write a joe imagine about cheating and i love your stories they are great
Warnings : A bit of angst of course, some swearing? Nothing too badâŚ.
Summary : Dealing with Joe who has been cheating onâŚ.
Words count : 4,545 words
Permanent tag list : @reavenedges-lies â @thosequeenboys @born-to-lose @orionis8689 @queenlover05
You were merely chilling in front of your sofa, playing video games when you heard a sudden and very abrupt knock on the door. The hand slammed so hard on the wood that you had the feeling it was going to open right away, leaving the person to take you totally by surprise in the middle of your living room, in your comfy pajamas, a messy bun on your head and with your bowl of cereals on the coffee table.
You put your joystick on the table and looked through the bull's-eye. It was getting late in the evening and you still had to be careful. You raised your eyebrows in surprise when you recognized your friend Joe standing on the other side of the door. You quickly opened it and he burst inside, as if he was followed by an awful monster and needed a safe place to hide. You took time to check outside to make sure there was no one else or at least no threat that would lead you to grab your baseball bat to knock someone out. Since there was no living soul, you quietly closed the door before turning to Joe.
He usually would directly take a seat on the sofa but that day, he was waking all along the living room. He seemed furious, anxious, stressed, annoyed, all at once. You cautiously looked at him and dared to ask.
âJoe? Are you okay?â
âDo I look like Iâm okay?â, he stopped his infuriated walk and looked daggers at you.
âWhatâs going on?â, you questioned him, not really daring to come closer. You had never seen him in this state.
âIâŚ. SheâŚ. HeâŚ. â, he started to say but it seemed a proper sentence wouldnât form in his mouth.
âAre your parents and siblings okay?â, you worriedly asked him, getting closer to him this time and taking his arm.
âYes. Yes theyâre all fineâŚ.â, he eventually could say.
âJoe? Whatâs going on?â, you insisted.
âSheâs been cheating on me. With my best friend for over a year.â, he suddenly announced and collapsed on the sofa.
You looked at him, not knowing what to say. This time, it seemed your brain had been paused. There was still motion around you, but it seemed someone had put a freezing spell on you. You shook your head and sat next to him.
âWhat did you say?â, you asked.
âYou heard me. My best friend. And Her. I just canât even say her name without throwing upâŚ.â, he explained.
âOh my god, Joe, I âŚ. I donât know what to sayâŚ. How? I meanâŚ. What ?â, you hesitated, not really knowing which questions were appropriate to ask and which were not.
âI found out this afternoon. I just couldnât believe it. But it seemed they were relieved. They told me and bam. The world is collapsing under my feet while they are lighter than butterflies after this confession. I just canât believe it.â, Joe said. He was clearly still very shocked.
You carried on staring at him, still trying to process the information he had just revealed. Your mind was having a real hard time to put all the pieces of the puzzle together and you just couldnât imagine how hard it was for Joe.
âWith my fucking best friend.â, Joe started to speak again.
It seemed now he was here with you, he could express himself properly and let it all out, like an abscess that had just been opened and needed to be drained.
âThe two strangers to my blood I trusted the mostâŚ. Hey this means youâve made it to the top of the list then !! Congratulations.â, he very ironically said.
You sighed and put your hand on his leg.
âIâm sorry Joe. You didnât deserve to be treated like this. Youâre such a great man.â, you told him, very sincere in your words.
âAm I?â, he replied. âCause I truly feel like shit right nowâŚ.â, he affirmed.
His tone seemed to be changing, as if it was getting from disgust to anger, then to sadness.
âOf course, theyâve already packed it all to move in together. Leaving me alone. Alone again, actuallyâŚ.â, he said, trying to sound like the song from Gilbert O'Sullivan.
âJoeâŚ. She didnât deserve you. Nor did he as a friendâŚ.â, you tried to convince him.
âAnd yet, Iâve wasted all this time.â, he replied, shrugging. âI had plan for the future with her, you know?â, he casually said.
âI kinda figured out you wanted this love to be leading somewhere at some point, yes.â, you said.
âBut it happened and now itâs all ruined.â, he stated, moving his hands as if he was flattering something in front of him.
âYour relationships with them might be, but your life isnât over Joe.â, you told him.
âEasy for you to say. Youâre not the fool whoâs been cheating on.â, he said disdainfully.
âYouâre right. Iâm sorry.â, you said as you stood up and headed to the kitchen to bring drinks.
You arrived in the kitchen and took your head in your hands, resisting the will to both cry and slam everything on your way. You had to be strong for Joe. Joe whose heart had just been broken, while you had loved him during the whole time. A secret you had been able to keep for yourself for as long as you could remember since you never felt it was the right time to confess, or you figured out it wasnât worth ruining this friendship. And then, he had started to date his now ex-girlfriend so it was too late.
The lights were still off. You put your hand on the fridge handle and let your head slightly pump on the cold door. Your eyes were closed but it was as if you could see the actual train of thoughts going on in your mind. You let out a deep and very sad sight.
You perceived shy footsteps behind you and heard the switch being turned on.
âY/N?â, you heard Joe say, almost in a whisper.
You slowly straighten up as you took a deep breath, pretending you were alright.
âWhat do you want to drink?â, you asked, trying to sound normal.
You opened the fridgeâs door and started to enumerate the different drinks you had for Joe to choose. Yet, since he wasnât answering, you turned to face him. You felt your heart drop on your chest as you saw tears running on his cheeks. Joe was standing in your kitchen, quietly sobbing. You had never seen him like this before. Joe was usually the funny guy, the one who would see positive in any situation. The one that grabbed your hand when you were about to fall, but now, he was the one who needed a hand.
Not even bothering to close the fridgeâs door, you put the cans you were holding on the table and rushed to take him in your arms.
You felt almost his whole body falling upon yours as he put his head on your shoulder and started to loudly cry, breaking your heart even more.
You felt both enraged and sad for him. You wanted to stay right there, holding him in your arms, feeling him so close to you, closer than you had ever been, until the end of the world. But the raging part of you wanted to grab anything you would have on your way, find the two persons responsible for this and hurt them really bad, as bad as you felt Joe had been hurt in your opinion.
But of course, both options were not doable at this very moment.
You tried your best to show him you were there for him. You wrapped your arms around him as best as you could and hold him tighter and tighter, letting him know you literally were his shoulder to cry on, that he could rely on you. At this moment, your brain reminded you of an article you had read some time ago. It said the longer a hug could last, the safest the persons would feel, so you carried on hugging Joe, trying to appease him. You also very selfishly took this opportunity to fill your lungs with his smell, feeling the softness of his clothes under your palms.
After several minutes it seemed, Joe slightly stepped back so you opened your arms. His cheeks seemed to be on fire and his eyes were red, but a faint smile appeared on his lips. A tiny grin came on your face as well and you put your hands on his cheeks to wipe his tears.
It seemed the two of you had a severe moment of weakness because both your faces got closer and closer, the two of you slowly closing your eyes and eventually, your lips touched. It soon turned into a very wet kiss since Joe had been crying. As he was deepening his kiss, you could taste his mouth and suddenly felt a strong aroma of alcohol, a mix of wine and whisky, which was not very pleasant.
Again, ideas and thoughts rushed in your mind and you quickly figured out Joe was not sober. The kiss was very good and you had been waiting for it to happen for such a long time. But you also wanted it to happen for good reasons. Not because Joe was drunk, nor because he needed comfort after his hurtful breakup. You knew it was wrong.
You were also aware it was going to hurt Joe a bit more, but you thought it was for the best to part before both your emotions and states of mind would lead you any further. You gently put your hands on his torso and kindly pushed him away.
âJoeâŚ. Iâm sorryâŚ.â, you said again.
âWhy?â, he replied, trying to get closer to you again to kiss you once more.
âNo, Joe, please donât. You donât know what youâre doing. Youâre still shocked. And slightly drunk.â, you quite firmly told him.
He looked at you and stepped back. He clearly was getting mad again. His jaw became more tense and he let out a deep sight as his nostrils became thinner.
âOf course, Iâm always the one to blame here. Itâs always Joeâs fault. Thatâs okay, I got it.â, he furiously said.
He turned and started to walk away from you so you followed him, trying to find something to say to make him stay. Yet, it was too late. He grabbed his stuff and without another glance at you, reached out for your front door.
âGood night, Y/N.â, he said very coldly.
He opened the door and left, loudly slamming the door behind him. This time and since you were alone now, you let tears fall from your eyes and you put your back on the door, slowly sliding against it until you felt the floor under your bottom. Why? Why did this happen to Joe? And through a knock-on effect, why was this happening to you?
The following week, you had the hardest time to focus on anything you were doing. You tried to brush your teeth with moisturizing cream, you almost set the kitchen on fire while cooking and your productivity at work was close to zero. You had sent Joe a message, asking him if he was okay, you didnât get an answer from him. You knew he had seen it, which confused and saddened you even more.
At the end of the week, you were home alone. This was not really surprising since you truly were not in the mood to go out to visit museums nor try new restaurants nor even go out to have a nice time in bars for instance. Your heart was melancholic and you dearly were missing Joe as a friend more importantly.
You were going to get ready for bed when you heard a knock on your door, making your heart beat faster in your chest. You hope it would be Joe and you were relieved to see the auburn haired man standing before your door, smiling.
âReady, Wuggles?â, he casually asked you.
âReady? Ready for what?â, you frowned.
âErghhhâŚ. Oh, sorry I thought you were Y/NâŚ. Is she here? We have a monthly habit to go on a karaoke and it happens to be tonight soâŚ.â, he tried to joke.
Your neurons connected again a few seconds later. Of course, the karaoke. With everything that had happened during the week, you had totally forgotten.
âOf course, I havenât forgotten !!â, you lied. âJust one minute.â, you said.
You rushed to your bedroom and grabbed the first clothes that were in your drawer : a mere T-shirt and a pair of jeans. You put a pair of shoes, any of them would do and you took your denim vest as well. You made sure to have everything you needed in your handbag and arrived to the door out of breath.
âReadyâŚ.â, you said, trying to breathe normally again.
âOkay, letâs go then.â, Joe said with a smile.
You followed him and the two of you randomly chatted on your way to the karaoke club. The rest of your friends were already there and Joe obviously joked on the fact both of you were late because of you.
The evening went very well. Everyone was laughing and joking and chatting, as if nothing in the world had changed. It was the case for most of them. They knew Joe was no longer with his ex-girlfriend, but all of them were behaving as if it was not a big deal. After all, people would break up all the time, this was not so hard to believe. Joe was no different from any other young man to their eyes.
Yet, you knew they were wrong. You could see Joe was smiling and laughing and joking like he usually would do. But you were no fool. You could clearly see that when no one was looking at him, he was on the verge of tears.
At the end of the karaoke, Joe brought you back home, just like he usually would. The two of you tried to act as normal as possible, but it was hard. You felt your cheeks were blushing every time he was talking to you. And as far as Joe was concerned, it seemed to be really tough for him to have a casual conversation with you. The two of you awkwardly smiled at each other before you said goodbye. Joe went back to his place and you once again closed the door, letting the man you loved walk away from you.
Time went by and it slowly seemed Joe was getting better. Or at least that what it seemed. He was again laughing really loudly, dancing in a silly way around, he was having normal conversations again, about the weather or the latest news or his family. He was still single, as if he would never be ready to offer his heart again, to anyone. This saddened you but you understood why. His ex girlfriend had stabbed him directly in the heart, leaving it to pieces. It was now a puzzle and Joe wasnât allowing anyone to complete it again.
His career seemed to be stagnating and it looked that Joe wasnât happy about it. You knew he considered Jurassic Park, The Pacific or even his own production Undrafted to be the top moment of his professional vocation and you were also aware Joe was feeling bad not to be picked for new roles or new projects. Producing a movie had been a very thrilling experience for him, but Joe was definitely more at ease and more confident in front of the camera, sharing emotions, portraying a person to tell a specific story.
Yet, Joe arrived one day at your place with the brightest smile he had had on his face for a very long time and you knew he wasnât faking.
âGuess what?â, he said, very proudly.
âWhat is it with your accent?â, you asked back, very surprised.
âIâve got the role !! Iâm gonna be John Deacon on screen !!â, he announced.
âJohn who?â, you questioned as you brought the drinks.
âJohn Deacon, the bassist of Queen !!â, he said, as if it was something logical.
âQueen? The band Queen?â, you carried on.
âYes !! Theyâre making a movie about the band and lead singer, Freddie Mercury. Iâm going to Britain in two weeks.â, he explained, very enthusiastically.
âJoe, thatâsâŚ. thatâs really great !!â, you said, hugging him.
So, as Joe said, he left for England, leaving you once again. You couldnât deny you were happy for him, but you knew you were going to miss him dearly. It was a sunny day of August and you recalled waving goodbye at him at the airport.
Joe and you were still very often in contact. Even if there was the time difference, it wasnât rare youâd wake up with an unread message from your friend. He was telling you about the not always very pleasant English weather of course, but he also often included pictures from the sets and his co-actors, totally trusting you regarding the confidentiality of the contents. He also seemed to be very close to the rest of the cast as well and it was good to see Joe was eventually opening his heart again. You didnât know if it had something to do with the production, with the music, or with something else, but when you were facing Joe during a video call, it seemed the sparkle that had gone from his eyes for so long was back again.
Since Joe had been in the filming industry for a very long time, you were aware of the time such a production would take and you knew you wouldnât see him before several months. Yet, you were wrong.
In May the following year, Joe landed in the USA sooner than expected. His father who was fighting against a brain cancer lost his last battle. You attended the funerals of course, since you were a very close friend to the family. Joe was devastated. There were no words for him to describe his pain and you could only see tears silently falling on his cheeks. The whole Mazzello clan was weeping, all of them feeling the same pain after this terrible loss.
At the end of the day, you were about to leave since you wanted Joe to be with his family. It seemed important to you. As far as you knew, you were still only a friend, a close one, but still only a friend. You didnât want to disturb or to annoy anyone with your presence. You hugged everyone before your departure. You were close to the front door, putting your coat on your shoulders when you felt a presence behind you.
You turned to face Joe. You hated to see him this way. His eyes were reddened because of all the tears he had been crying. Yet, a faint smile appeared on his lips as he opened his arms, offering you a hug. You werenât sure if you would be able to stay strong and hear him sob on your shoulder, just like when he had burst in after he had found out about his ex-girlfriend cheating on him. You came closer to him and he took you in his arms, holding you tight, thanking you for taking time to be with them, with him, during this more than hard moment.
You feared he would be crying on your shoulder, but he didnât. The two of you merely remained there in each otherâs arms, holding the embrace for as long as you could. It seemed Joe was not willing to let you go. He deeply sighed and eventually parted. He looked at you again, the same faint smile on his lips.
You stared back at him and deep down inside you, you felt the urge to feel his lips again, to let him know youâd always be there for him, no matter what. Your legs brought you closer to him, but you stopped. It wasnât right and you knew it. You didnât want this sad day to end this way, it wasnât respectful for the whole Mazzello family.
As if you were saved by the bell, you heard Virginia Mazzello emerge from the corridor, asking the two of you if everything was okay. You smiled at her and nodded. Just like Joe, she needed to be surrounded by her family, so you gently caressed Joeâs arm and turned away to leave. You didnât know when youâd be able to see Joe again, but you already knew it was once again going to be hard not to have him by your sides.
Joe carried on giving you news from the shooting of his new movie Bohemian Rhapsody during the following weeks. You could tell he was still grieving but unlike when he had been really down after the cheating, he seemed to be coping better. The end of the filming eventually arrived and the promotion began. You could see interviews of him and his partners on screen and you couldnât help but smile at the videos. He was always funny, brilliant, professional and of course handsome. You knew the page was turned, but it sometimes still crossed your mind to wonder how on earth could someone ever dare and even think to cheat on him. Maybe it was because you had now admitted to yourself you were in love with him, but it was a total nonsense for you to hurt this man.
Eventually, after what seemed an eternity to you, Joe called you to ask if you could meet him and his now new friends for a karaoke session. You were surprised to see his partners enjoyed karaoke as well, but after shooting a movie about a rock legend and music, and after promoting the film in Japan, where karaokes were very popular, you considered it was surely not as weird as it seemed. You accepted of course, willing to get to know his fellow actors, but more importantly, you couldnât wait to see him again.
You could not deny his partners on screen were wonderful. Gwilym, Rami and Lucy were just amazing and it looked like a very strong friendship had begun between Joe and Ben. It was so pleasant to see Joe widely smile again, laughing with his friends, singing in a silly way to make everyone giggle. You tried not to blush too hard when Joe used his usual âwugglesâ nickname with you in front of the others, but it seemed like he had been telling them about you a lot, since they knew a lot already about you.
At the end of this very nice afternoon, everyone parted, hugging each other goodbye. You noticed you had forgotten your sunglasses so you got back inside to make sure to get them before leaving and losing them.
The karaoke screen was still on and random music was still playing. You grabbed your sunglasses from the table and was about to leave when the song that started to play made you stop. It was âThe fighterâ, by Keith Urban.
It had been only a couple of years since you had heard the song for the first time, but it instantly reminded you of Joe and the horrible way he had been treated. This song was actually telling with the words you had never been able to find how much you loved him and how youâd protect him, how your love for him was true.
Maybe it was the karaoke atmosphere but without realizing it, you began to sing the lyrics out loud, wishing Joe could hear them and understand. Hopefully, he was still outside with his friends. That was what you thought.
At the end of the second part of the song, you heard a very familiar voice singing the chorus with you, asking the questions as you were supposed to reply. You startled and saw Joe smiling at you while singing with you, getting closer.
Part of you wanted to stop and ask him a million questions but you remained there singing with him, hoping he would understand and secretly praying it was the right time to reveal your true feelings for him.
At the end of the song, the two of you stayed in front of each other in an awkward way, heavily blushing, wondering who would make the first move. You took a deep breath, even if you heart was about to escape your chest, and spoke first.
âHow much of the song have you heard?â, you asked, not daring to look at him.
âI heard it all.â, he frankly replied.
âI seeâŚ.â, you replied nodding, still not raising your head to face him.
âWuggles?â, he kindly asked, taking your chin to make you look at him.
Your eyes met and you felt somehow relieved. There was no anger in his eyes, no pain, no fear. There was only kindness and love it seemed.
âIâve been wanting to tell you how I feel for you for quite a long timeâŚ.â, he confessed. âBut it was never the right time it seemed.â, he sighed. âAfter my break up and our disastrous kiss, I tried my best to act normal. I regretted the kiss because I was out of my mind, and slightly drunk. But I donât regret it regarding my feelings for you.â, he carried on.
You swallowed, not believing what you were hearing.
âYouâve always been there for me, completing the mess of a puzzle my heart was. Yes, I was scared of love, being broken hearted this way doesnât help.â, he sarcastically laughed. âBut you never gave up on me. No matter what. When I was broken-hearted. When I was questioning my career choices. When I lost my dad.â, he said.
âIâd never give up on you Joe.â, you replied, slightly daring to get closer to him.
âI know it. You proved it many times already. I can say today Iâm not drunk, my heart is in a better shape. I would like to kiss you. To kiss you like lovers do.â, he very seriously stated.
âPlease do.â, you nodded.
Joe didnât need to be told twice. He cupped your face and crashed his lips against yours. From what you could tell, he surely had been as longing as you had been for this kiss. It was delicate and soft at first and became more passionate.
You parted when you heard someone hawking at the door. Ben was standing there, smiling and nodding.
âLook at the two lovers right thereâŚ. â, he said, happily smirking.
âCome on, mate. Just give me one more minuteâŚ.â, Joe told him, still holding you in his arms.
Ben nodded, winked at you and left.
âSorry about thatâŚ.â, Joe apologized.
âDonât worry. Itâs been a very pleasant karaoke today.â, you replied.
âAnd itâs ending in an even more pleasant way.â, he carried on, putting his front on yours. âI love you, Y/N. Iâm not afraid to say it anymore.â, he stated.
âAnd I love you too, Joe Mazzello.â, you told him, putting a chaste kiss on his lips.
Lyrics from the song âThe fighterâ by Keith Urban
I know he hurt you
Made you scared of love, too scared to love
He didn't deserve you
'Cause you're precious heart is a precious heart
He didn't know what he had and I thank God, oh, oh, oh
And it's gonna take just a little time
But you're gonna see that I was born to love you
What if I fall (I won't let you fall)
What if I cry (I'll never make you cry)
And if I get scared (I'll hold you tighter)
When they're tryna get to you baby I'll be the fighter
What if I fall (I won't let you fall)
What if I cry I promise I'll never make you cry
And if I get scared (I'll hold you tighter)
When they're tryna get to you baby I'll be the fighter
Look in the mirror
You're beautiful, so beautiful
I'm here to remind you
You're my only one, let me be the one
To heal all the pain that he put you through
It's a love like you never knew
Just let me show you
What if I fall (I won't let you fall)
What if I cry (I'll never make you cry)
And if I get scared (I'll hold you tighter)
When they're tryna get to you baby I'll be the fighter
What if I fall (I won't let you fall)
What if I cry I promise I'll never make you cry
And if I get scared (I'll hold you tighter)
When they're tryna get to you baby I'll be the fighter
I wanna believe that you got me baby
I swear I do from now until the next life
I wanna love, wanna give you all my heart
What if I fall (I won't let you fall)
What if I cry (I'll never make you cry)
And if I get scared (I'll hold you tighter)
When they're tryna get to you baby I'll be the fighter
What if I fall (I won't let you fall)
What if I cry I promise I'll never make you cry
And if I get scared (I'll hold you tighter)
When they're tryna get to you baby I'll be the fighter
What if I fall
What if I cry
And if I get scared (I'll hold you tighter)
When they're tryna get to you baby I'll be the fighter
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Authorâs note : Hi my beauties. This was supposed to be for Valentineâs Day, my participation for another Queen fanzine. There is some delay for this issue but since Iâm very proud of this one I wanted to share it sooner. I would like to thank my amazing beta reader aka @thosequeenboysâ on Tumblr for her brilliant work, checking my many mistakes and helping me correct them.  I hope you enjoy it. Thanks in advance for the feedback (but please donât put a like if you didnât even read the piece, thatâs very rude to my povâŚ.) I remind you all the same English isnât my mother tongue, so despite the amazing beta reading, please forgive my mistakesâŚ.
Warnings : There is a slight sexual innuendo, an intercourse, but nothing explicitâŚ. nothing too bad really
Summary : John Deacon, famous bass maker and player, is given a chance to know what love is, after spending his whole life on his ownâŚ.
Words count :  3,803 words
Permanent tag list : @reavenedges-lies @thosequeenboys @born-to-lose @orionis8689  @queenlover05â
John Deacon was famous for being the most talented bass guitar maker and bass player in the whole country. People would also come from overseas to buy instruments, just to see the stringed instrument maker tune the bass he had made with his hands before them.
 Many expected this success and fame would have made John selfish and arrogant, with a smug attitude, but it was not the case at all. The bass maker remained humble and shy. He was also thorough. The little tags he put on his musical creations listed the raw materials he had used and the time he had spent to create a new bass.
 Very often, when customers were in his shop, they asked for a bass playing demonstration. John always smiled at the request. He would take a bass from his shop and plug it in a homemade amp. Heâd let his long fingers precisely wander on the strings, creating unheard riffs. His clientele was always curious as to why he did not play his own bass, since he took one displayed in his shop. John would merely shrug in reply, letting them know he simply did not have his own bass guitar. The information usually surprised his audience, leaving most of them speechless.
 Authorâs note : Hi my beauties. Here we are for Jimercury Week 2021, Hosted by the sweet Freesia @freesiafieldsâ (very good author by the way, highly recommended)â. This is my third and last entry for day 7 and I chose the prompt âGreek mythologyâ (I had to search my memory on this one, trying to avoid confusion between my old greek and latin lessonsâŚ.). I hope you enjoy it. Thanks in advance for the feedback (but please donât put a like if you didnât even read the piece, thatâs very rude to my povâŚ.) Also, I remind you English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakesâŚ.
Warnings : None, I guess itâs okay, the Underworld is mentioned, but there is nothing scary.Â
Summary : The God of the Underworld wants to know what love isâŚ.
Words count : Â 3,169 words
Permanent tag list : @anotheronebitesthedick (<- Soon removed since Iâve never been able to tag you and you donât follow me anymore, which means I guess you donât care.)  @reavenedges-lies @thosequeenboys @roger-taylors-car @orionis8689 @theadorabletia (<-Still unable to tag you) @queenlover05â
âIâm bored.â, Freddie stated.
 He had everything he needed, and even more, and yet, it was not sufficient.  Of course, being the ruler of the Underworld was not a part time job, but the God couldnât help it. He considered boredom to be the disease of this world and he absolutely couldnât stand it anymore.
