Okay I'm finally listening to Queen II Collector's Edition and I have so many Thoughts about disc 2 so enjoy me basically live blogging my first listen through:
Father to son:
• "Brian's fucking around"
• Freddie's voice!! Hello?!??! It's so soft yet so powerful
• You wanna talk naked and raw, THIS is fucking naked and raw holy shit
• Actually being able to hear John's funky little bassline at the end !!! This is the content I've been missing
As it began:
• For some reason I wasn't expecting Brian to be singing even though it's literally labelled as Brian's studio demo lmao
• His voice???!!!!! Again so soft but powerful. I also don't just wanna use soft but....emotional too
Someday one day take 1:
• "Brian's fingers are getting old" "so are mine" Roger hahsnsnsj
• Again a funky little bass riff at the beginning (and at the end!!). No such thing as the bass being too loud imo but okay Roger whatever 🙄
• Is it a guitar? Is it Freddie's voice? Who knows, certainly not me
Loser in the end first demo:
• IM FUCKING SCREAMING NOBODY TALK TO ME
• Just bass and drums and Rogers voice ???? Sonic Volcano indeed! What more could I possibly want this is perfection and I will not be taking any notes
• I can see myself listening to this version waaaay more often than the original album version
Ogre battle:
• The various "ready Freddie"s!
• "that's fucking terrible" lmaooo okay Fred
• It's so interesting to listen to the guide vocals for this because Freddie's voice is so soft in comparison to the actual vocal track where he's putting in the effort to give it his all. It confuses my brain lmao
Fairy fellers master stroke:
• Freddie not saying what number take it is and just launching right into the piano is a big adhd mood
• Freddie messing up and Roger being like "don't worry!' 🥹🥹
• The gay little sigh before starting again
• Listening to the instrumental version really makes me feel like this should/could be the score for a chase scene in a movie or something, but something crack-y like Scooby Doo hsjsjsk which probably isn't what they were going for but hey
• When they stop and John goes "I'm sure I made some mistakes in there as well"
• Roger forever the supportive bestie with "well relax Fred!"
• Tbh I love to see Freddie struggle here (and everyone else's encouragement/support), what a beautiful reminder of the human behind the icon
Nevermore take 6:
• Brian's little "don't stop" is going to live rent free in my head and pop out when/if ever I write smut again and I know there's no way I'm the only one
• But also the encouragement that comes with the don't stop "cause you might get it perfect". Again we stan supportive besties
March of the black queen:
• Surprised that I don't have much to say about this first section since this is my favourite song on the whole album
• But also "my hands really hurt" babie 🥺
• In the second section, Freddie's humming ??? Something about it is so precious I love it so much
• I loooove getting this stripped back version of this song, especially when the tempo picks up and you can hear John's bassline so fucking well it's so good
Funny how love is:
• "sorry no one listens to me" ....sir I don't think you know how much I strain my ears to pick up every last vibration from that bass
• All the little shenanigans around the counting 😂😂
• This entire interaction: "I think I'm getting pissed" "I've confiscated the wine" "can I have some" "confiscated into his stomach" ...I know these are real people but god this is so in character for each of them 😂😂😂 someone somewhere has to have already turned this into a fic right??? Or am I gonna have to do everything myself
Seven seas of rhye:
• The way everyone so easily accommodates Freddie when he asks to turn the piano up. I know being cooperative is just a healthy work environment and it shouldn't make me all soft but for some reason it does
• Again that fucking bassline at the end !! Like how many times can I compliment John Deacon's talent in the span of an album cause wow
Not for sale:
• Omg okay this has such a wistful, nostalgic vibe to it !! I love it!! (And iirc this was a Smile song right?) I can also see why it didn't make it onto Queen or Queen II, it doesn't quite fit with those but it's still so sweet
domestic mornings at the ridge farm | roger taylor x female!reader.
tl;dr: you’re a videographer for queen making a documentary of their time recording at the ridge farm. it’s hard to accept that you may be developing feelings for roger.
word count: 3.1k
a/n: this one’s a teeny bit angsty towards the end but it’s littered with fluff throughout! please excuse any typos i’ve yet to eliminate in this one as i wrote it originally for my oc and had to switch names and words around! enjoy :)
"morning, y/n."
you nearly missed the greeting as a shuddering yawn consumed you. pulling your fists away from the craters you were digging in your eye sockets, you gave a sleepy smile.
"good morning, brian."
you leaned on the kitchen counter while he cradled a mug of tea in his hands at the table. you noticed an acoustic guitar resting against the chair beside the guitarist. at the same time, he picked up on the camera strapped to your hand. it rested in your right palm so frequently, always on and recording queen's writing progress.
you and your recorder came as a pair. never far from one another. so often so that the nickname 'vee' (short for mv or video) had begun to catch on with freddie and roger. it amused you and was always used endearingly so you had no complaints. brian spoke between a sip.
"are you seriously filming already?"
you chuckled, setting it down on the counter. "depends... what you got for me?"
you fidgeted around in the cupboards in search for the remaining chocolate powder. once located you crammed it all and the boiled water into a similar mug, sliding down in a chair across from brian. he stared at the guitar for a moment. "it's an acoustic track, actually."
"you don't say..." you remarked but brian scoffed and continued anyway.
"ha ha. s'called 39."
you waited for an elaboration that never came. not yet anyway. you noticed that about this peculiar band. all members had vastly different ideas with wild executions and usually they started as these odd concepts. a title, a lyric, a hum, a riff - even a smell. they had what you liked to call "creative arguments" about these things all the time.
each of them were passionate and perfectionists. every body of work breathed with life and it showed. it reflected in every overdub, every live performance, every rehearsal. you were mesmerised. you'd never admit it but you were sure the band knew it anyway.
upon brian saying the title, you half expected roger, john or freddie to appear slandering the vague title. luckily, there was some peace for now. most morning were peaceful as the boys weren't really early birds. you were required to wake up at 8am each morning, except sundays. mr sheffield said this gave you ample time to get ready for the day and catch all of the band members in their 'flow'. whatever that means. he also advised you to be withdrawn from the band. like a fly on the wall, almost never intervening. despite being arranged to live with them for 6 months.
you grimaced, remembering his harsh words.
"last videographer i hired turned groupie for these boys. now, miss y/n. are you a groupie?"
it was bullshit. norman sheffield was a bastard and the kind of boss the girls in the movies strive to escape from. and you would... but you were an opportunist. and broke.
an all-inclusive stay at the ridge farm with the best progressive rock band on the scene right now wasn't the worst predicament ever and great for your portfolio and finding future paid work.
so you tried to stick to mr sheffield's rules. it took two weeks for it all to come crumbling down. the boys started to catch on that you were always the first one awake and more often than not, the last one asleep. you were also quiet as a mouse but never disinterested in what was going on, always giving great input when prompted.
even though it went against your contract, you opened up to the lead singer about it one rainy afternoon in the garden. once you mentioned their manager, freddie exclaimed like he'd put all the pieces together.
"i just knew that bastard was behind it. that sounds like hell! do talk more, darling. and have a lay in for once. you'll kill yourself at this rate and we're not even close to finishing the album!"
his words were incredibly comforting in comparison to mr sheffield's condescending questions. you relaxed more after that, with everyone. you also noticed an air of disdain whenever you mentioned other rules given to you by their manager. so naturally, made sure cameras were not rolling when talks involved him.
you stirred your spoon in the brown liquid. "do play me a bit, brian. liven my morning up."
he pulled the guitar to his lap and the strings echoed faintly through the kitchen. you listened eagerly, camera neglected as you just basked in the moment. the chord progression felt very intimate and you tried to contain your surprise when hearing brian accompany the song vocally. you knew he did backing vocals live and could sing but it was unexpected to hear him take the lead. when the snippet ended, a sleepy john deacon entered. he stretched as he sat beside you.
"good morning. don't tell me i missed something fun just now." his eyes hovered between you two. brian responded, with an hint of mischief.
"morning john, by the way, how good are you at double bass?"
this caused the bassist's face to immediately scrunch up in disbelief.
"i'm messing around. just food for thought. forget about it." but with that, john went silent and still. you watched him, narrowing your eyes at his visible thought process.
"still with us, deaky?"
a small smile crept on his face, his gaze still slightly absentminded. "oh definitely:"
brian shook his head and placed the guitar back down, curls bouncing slightly. he knew he'd started something that he couldn't end.
"john, i mean it!"
"i've not even heard the song brian! what could i possibly be thinking about—?"
"you tell me."
a shuffle could be heard from the story above and it caused the bickering to stop. someone else was awake. the house was up early for a change. you blew for a second before tasting your drink.
"who do you think it's going to be?" asked john, arms crossed over his torso. he sported a dark green, long-sleeved pyjama top with dark shorts. whereas, brian had the short sleeve shirt and trousers combination. you were currently drowning in roger's spare long sleeved pyjama shirt and your own pyjama shorts.
the shirt you were wearing was hanging out to dry in the garden. two nights ago, you'd been in the unsuspecting crossfire of a carton of milk. roger's fault. it was a song dispute. the signs of his outburst were all there. hidden behind john and brian's goading, and freddie's laughing, roger's knee started to bounce. then his hand started to clench. then he chewed slightly on the inside of his mouth, words few and far between.
then suddenly there was an explosion of white.
the kitchen fell still when instead of hitting john, who dodged, the liquid sprayed all over you instead who was innocently cooking. you still didn't know the song the two were actually arguing about since roger had decided to put it to bed and you-soaked-in-milk was now a sensitive subject.
as compensation, you relinquished your chores over the course of the next week to roger and took his pyjama shirt as personal revenge. it held his smell well and was nice to have when it got cold in your bedroom at night.
none of the boys around the table mentioned it. brian contemplated. "could be fred, he's the lightest sleeper i know."
john hummed, "my bets on...." he gave a curt nod. "roger." simultaneously, the two men turned their gaze to you. your answer would be a tie-breaker.
"uhhh, i have no clue! brian is right, freddie is a really light sleeper."
john rolled his eyes as the statement sided with the guitarist. he murmured something along the lines of regretting your choice. and quickly you did, because a messy mop of blonde hair entered the kitchen. none other than roger taylor, queen's zombified drummer. he looked as though he had a fitful night with his hair jutting out in all directions and his upper body exposed. just a pair of pyjama bottoms and the waistband of his boxers shying through.
"alright, roger? thought we left the beauty sleeps to fred." brian teased.
"oh sod off, brian." roger's eyes were half open, blinded by the sunlight poking through the curtains. "what's with all the noise? it's not even 9 o'clock!"
"what's with the lack of clothes, rog? we have a lady in the house." john observed, pretending to cover his eyes at the pale, hairless skin. roger looked to you at that. his blue eyes were surprisingly open and locked with yours. his gaze flicked up and down.
"vee doesn't mind, right?"
you nodded, then shook your head. trying to give the correct impression. yes, you don't mind but nodding means they might think you mean yes, you do mind but you don't mind. it's his house too technically and he's not hurting anybody. you should've just stuck to shaking no, that was the right response-
john interrupted your spiralling thoughts. "you've flustered the poor girl."
you felt heat rise to your cheeks and became embarrassed when realising you'd not actually said anything just then, just zoned out staring right at roger. you buried your head in your arms.
"it's the truth." he simply chimed. it was. and you hated it. where was the milk?
brian took over the conversation, explaining the course of the morning to the drummer who look completely spaced out. your finger twitched so you lifted your head to spot the cigarettes in the center of the table. they were roger's but he wouldn't mind since he bummed a lot of yours.
soon, you thought in the back of your mind. a subconscious hand pressed to the left pocket of your pyjamas feeling the outline of your lighter. suddenly, roger groaned after deciding he didn't want to hear about how great being awake was.
"well give over. start writing in an hour or two. im trying to sleep." and with that, he turned on his heel back up to his room. the trio of you snickered a little at the humor of roger's whinging.
"he seemed a bit mardy." you finally muttered, a smile etched on your face.
"it's what two days of chores and no pyjama top does to a man." john added, further lightening the atmosphere in the kitchen. "what's for breakfast, brian?"
"pardon?" it was brian's turn to finally question.
you drew your legs up to your chest drumming a finger on your kneecap. "it does say it's your day to cook today, bri."
brian thought, rising from his chair. his tea now long finished and mug discarded. "well in that case it's porridge for breakfast."
this earned a groan from you and john at the table. you'd been so distracted teaming up on brian, everyone missed the singer stood silently in the kitchen doorframe.
"which one of you upset roger?" he interrogated. everyone's head snapped to the noise. freddie moved over to the table, occupying brian's empty seat. he looked very well rested, like he'd been awake for hours. you had no idea how he did that. "he was in a foul mood stomping back to his room just now."
you acknowledged him, with a coy smile. "good morning, freddie."
freddie shot back, "don't think you're getting off the hook, dear. i need answers."
this caused brian to sulk, back to everyone at the table as he started making porridge. "it's too early for the theatrics from you too, freddie."
"christ, are you moping too?" examined freddie, looking to brian before john butted in defensively.
"nobody did anything, freddie. you know how roger is."
freddie seemed apprehensive before his demeanor then shifted. "oh well, let the drama queen rest!" he poured himself a cup of tea, with the ingredients on the table. "brian, make something else for me. torture vee and john and roger and even yourself with porridge."
brian shook his head, rotating so he could stare at the table as the oats finished warming.
"sorry fred, we're a democracy. and y/n, that includes you too."
"what did i do??" you cried out in defense.
you chatted with the band, minus roger a bit longer. the drummer did eventually return to the table, looking less disheveled. everyone had a jovial breakfast despite the standard of food by chef may. it wasn't hard to make porridge but brian put the perfect amount of sugar and water in, so the sweetness and texture was really enjoyable.
everybody ate their helping and a comfortable silence fell onto the table. eventually roger stood to tackle the breakfast dishes. his energy started to appear for the day, bargaining with you.
"c'mon! i wash, you dry. oldest teamwork in the book."
you rolled your eyes at that. john then mused, "don't forget about the milk incident, vee." this caused a wave of laughter from the table, even roger.
"enough about that!" roger scowled, playfully. "please vee, i know you want to help me."
"you're being manipulated, dear!" freddie retorted.
you sighed, then finally caved. "okay smoke first. then i dry. then you lot get to playing something. anything." you couldn't say no to roger. not really.
he beamed with pride at the compromise he managed to strike, rising from his seat to gather all the dishes in the sink. you signalled to the cigarettes, "can i, rog?"
"course, my treat for siding with me."
you pushed open the box, digging one out and trapping it between your lips. fishing out your lighter next, you flicked it down twice until the flame lit. you brought the steady fire to the end of your cigarette. then like clockwork took a big inhale.
the boys spoke around you and you naturally tuned them out for a while. you stood to fetch your camera on the counter, sitting back down and fiddling with it. the cigarette was taken from your mouth and tapped into the tray. if you looked up you would've caught the eyes of roger, already looking at you. your hands actually.
you rose the cig back to your mouth, your lips. too focused using both hands now to meticulously sieve through the settings and your memory card. he snapped out of his thoughts turning back to the sink. you adjusted the exposure as you were recording last night and everything this morning looked touched by heaven.
your cigarette thinned out soon enough and when you took the final drag, you pushed the bud into the ashtray. you rose from your seat, squinting at the rota on the fridge. the schedule was littered with names assigned to chores but yours had been messily wiped out and replaced with rogers.
"and i was just getting used to no chores."
roger sarcastically replied. "shame."
the rest of the boys started to filter out from the kitchen to get ready and take turns in the shower. there were still some pots from last night that john had intentionally left to soak, that roger raged about to you beside him.
after some time by the sink, you started to fall into a habit of teasing the boy. the band were rubbing off on you. it was really simple things like how awkward he looked with a sponge in his hand. this earned you a playful shove. when you tried to push back, roger planted his feet so you couldn't budge him. he wasn't the biggest or strongest member of queen, he was just taller than you but it showed in his attitude. you eased up on him, sitting on the counter for easier access to the cupboard.
you guys got into a consistent routine like that. you conversed about the plan for the day ahead and then roger turned to you, abrupt.
"you look pretty in that shirt." no traces of the usual sarcasm. "my shirt."
you froze. expression wide and carved in fear. the confession left you slightly nauseous. why were you thinking about mr sheffield's words again? why were you thinking about roger's reputation?
you'd shot for queen once, before being hired to video them here at ridge farm. you recalled their amazing set and the clear videos you'd gotten. 'fucking ace' mr sheffield had called them.
memories of after their setlist started to flood your mind. pale hands all through his hair, on his neck, his arms. the love bite that peaked through the collar of his top. in the moment, you winced at the desperation from both the drummer and his... fan. now you were headed for the same fate.
you'd be fired.
you let out a dry giggle, delayed as your lips were pressed in a tight smile. as you continued to dry the plate in your hand, you shuffled away on the counter to reach the cupboard. you'd never had trouble before. he picked up on the distance instantly.
"what just happened?" roger placed the dishes back into the water. you didn't want to face the truth. not with him, here and now.
"what d'you mean?" you just smiled. it didn't reach your eyes.
"maybe it was just my imagination but you looked really distracted there. scared me a little." he patted a comforting hand on your knee but you recoiled.
"your hand is soaking, roger! pass me a new towel."
he smirked. "no."
"no?" you chuckled, tentatively.
"no! tell me what you were thinking about." he insisted, grabbing a pot from the dirty water.
"it was nothing—"
"vee."
"it's stupid." you sighed, shaking your head to yourself. roger looked into your eyes, they were bright blue and searching for something he could work with.
"is it stupid or nothing?"
three months. three months was all it took for handsome, sweet-talker, roger taylor to have you stumbling over your words like this. you were very fond of roger and your dynamic. sometimes, you would argue he was smitten over you too. you tried to stop your spiralling mind. it was just proximity attraction. the album was going to release in november and you'd go your separate ways. his way probably lead to the bed of some brunette. the thought made you gag.
this, here, was a nice fantasy, though.
"it's both, roger. just... ah nevermind."
"talk to me, vee." he prompted, seeming slightly down at your reluctance to open up.
"your compliment is nice. just save it for someone who can reciprocate, okay?"
his face contorted into a puzzled expression. "sorry. thought you felt same way."
"no, roger it's not that. i do." you groaned in frustration. "i do. it's just—" mr sheffield’s words crowded your head.
"i want you to impress me. show me that the whores i hire can do their jobs, yeah?"
you swallowed. "complicated."
you discarded the wet towel to the counter and ran a quick hand through his hair, stopping at the nape of his neck. your fingers brushed the skin there and his eyes fluttered shut for only a second before you hopped down from the side.
roger remained stood in place, still lost in the touch. "where're you—?"
you made your way out of the kitchen slowly, smile wide. it was bittersweet. "dishes are done. get ready and give me something to record."
roger nodded, not realising he'd already given you the last dish to dry. you lingered in the doorframe. contemplation in your eyes before you hurried back to roger at the sink. your closeness was bold and he took a step back reflexively.
"so play well."
you propped yourself on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. it's then you finally exited the kitchen leaving roger stood in shock. he cracked a smile, drying his hands before following close behind.
how was that?? let a girl know in the asks or the comments and follow for more cause i have sooo many more ideas for all the boys lined up!
