#roger queen

[rogers-maracas-2000]

What's your favourite Queen album?

Queen

Queen II

Sheer Heart Attack

A Night at the Opera

A Day at the Races

News of the World

Jazz

The Game

The Works

Hot Space

A Kind Of Magic

something else (I ran option space)

Voting ended onJan 9

I was trying to write the albums in chronological order but it's off of memory so I don't know if it's fully accurate.

Mines Innuendo.

[lexthemuppetsfan]

*tries to keep this fandom alive by making a self insert*

[imagintheworldaway]

Assistant

A/N this is a little longer than i intended and a bit of a roller coaster but i hope you guys enjoy nonetheless. 

Warnings: Nah, stressed reader a bit?? 

Requests: Open :)

It was mid morning and I was late as hell. I was balancing my bag, a folder full of notes, legal documents and potential lyrics as well as a bag of food and coffees whilst trying to navigate my way down the busy streets of London. I glanced at my reflection in a window as I stood and waited for the traffic to clear and cross the road. “Fuck” i whispered to myself. My clothes were already dishevelled and my hair looked like I had been head banging for the past four hours. 

I finally got to the studio, sending a weary smile to  the receptionists, who looked at me sympathetically before calling the lift. “Don’t worry they’ve only just got here” one of the girls shouted after me as i entered the lift. “Thank you '' I called over my shoulder, her statement doing nothing to reassure me. I waited impatiently as the lift shot up, tapping my foot, my knuckles turning white from holding the array of clutter in my arms for so long. “Here she is!” the studio manager announced to everyone, causing all eyes to fall on me. Freddie was messing around on the decks, Brian was furiously scribbling on a notepad, John was watching meticulously over Brian's shoulder muttering notes and humming tunes and Roger, well he was laying on the sofa smoking a cigarette and just observing the others. 

“I am so sorry” I breathed out, throwing the folders down. I walked around the room handing out the drinks, thankfully I had the hindsight to write their initials on each one, probably the only smart thing I had done this morning. “It’s ok darling, we were just dying of thirst” Freddie quipped with a smirk as I shot him an apologetic look. “Don't mind him, he's in one of his moods” Brian whispered as I handed him his cup. I mouthed a thank you before sitting on the stool in the corner and sifting through the different sections, un-clipping different notes to have them ready for when Freddie demanded them. 

I took a deep breath as I settled into the seat and everyone concentrated on whatever they were doing before I got there. “Hey Y/N can i have the notes from last Thursday?” Brian said nonchalantly, chewing on his pen with his brow furrowed. “Yh here” I smiled handing over the sheets, him instantly flicking through them as I sat back down. “You look tired” Roger whispered, lifting his head so he could look at me from his position on the sofa. “Is it that obvious?” I whispered back with a faint smile. “Yh, when you’re tired you always gaze off into space” Roger shrugged, sitting up so that he was now at my eye level. “Neighbours again?” he asked, sipping his coffee. “Yh, i know it's nice having a baby and everything, but the screaming at four in the morning is really getting old” i said tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, thankful someone would let me vent about the situation. 

I loved where I lived and my life, but my new neighbours had just had a new baby, which is amazing, and she is the cutest thing ever, but this girl has mental lungs. “Sucks, this is why you need an actual house” Roger said, we had had this conversation a million times. Him asking about my neighbours, me telling him about the noise, him saying i needed to move, me explaining i could only move if his band paid me more, him laughing it off and that's the end of it. 

“I’m not having this conversation again Rog” I smiled sadly, turning to distract myself with the notes. “You cannot keep living like this” he muttered, worry lacing his voice. I was about to respond until Freddie beckoned Roger. He placed a hand on my shoulder before walking over to the singer. 

I watched band practice for about three hours before I started becoming irritable, as fun as it was that the room was so small and listening to the same three notes over and over again became very overwhelming. I caught Roger's gaze and he subtly nodded his head towards the door. I just smiled, grabbing my jacket and slipping out of the room and down the corridor to the fire escape. The crisp London air blew past me as i lean on the railing. I waited a minute or so before I heard the door go again. “Hey” I sighed, as I heard the click of a lighter. “You look even more miserable than this morning,” Roger commented as he sat on the steel steps and looked up at me, taking a drag of his cigarette. “I love how nice you are to me” I smirked, casting my gaze to meet him. “Hey someone has to keep you humble” he said with a goofy grin. I just rolled my eyes and chuckled to myself. “Well you’re definitely doing a good job of it” I sighed, sitting on the metal platform, leaning my back against the bars which held up the railing. “Wanna go early? I can tell the guys you're ill?” Roger suggested as I played with my hands. “Kind of counterproductive” I shrugged, biting my lip as I chipped away at my nail polish. 

We sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, the only noise coming from the streets of London alongside the crackling of the cigarette every time Roger took a drag. “You know Y/N, if you need help..” Roger started to insinuate. I snapped my head up and sent him a death glare. “Rog, i love you guys, but i don't need any help, you guys are my bosses, i cater to your needs, not the other way around” i rambled on nor folding my arms across my chest. Roger just sighed as stubbed out his cigarette and threw it over the edge. “You’re so stubborn” Roger huffed, standing up, holding his hand out to me. “Once again, you're so lovely” I smirked, taking his hand as he pulled me up. I watched as Roger went to speak again. “I’m fine, I promise” I said quickly, opening the door, beckoning him to follow me. 

The rest of practice went slowly. I kept catching Roger shooting worried glances over to me, which I just returned with a mundane look before looking away. It was nice that he cared. It was nice that they all cared. But they were big rock stars and I was just their little assistant in the background. It was sweet that he wanted to help but then I would be in his debt, which didn't sound too bad but the guilt would follow me every time we were in the same room. 

I was jotting down some notes, mainly about some upcoming meetings so I didn't forget when I noticed the time. Shit it was 4:30, I had to go and pick up the album prints at five and it was all the way across town. I started shuffling everything together, stuffing it back in the folders before slipping my jacket on. “I have to go and pick up the album cover designs, i will see you guys tomorrow” i said hurriedly sending a quick smile and wave before hurrying out the door. 

Rogers POV - 

“Ok Rog, she's gone, you can stop staring” John huffed as he nudged my rips. “What? I have no idea what you’re talking about '' I mumbled, not even looking at my band mate, instead casting my eyes down to the notepad in front of the two of us. “Maybe she should stop coming to practise,” John huffed, his irritation evident in his tone. I looked up at him and furrowed my brows. Why would he say that? I went to go and speak before Brian decided to join the conversation. “I think you’re right, Roger, whenever she's here you can't seem to concentrate for more than five minutes, maybe we should give her the rest of the week off, we do have a deadline to meet.” he shrugged, sitting on the stool Y/N had previously occupied. I instantly shook my head, ready to argue on her behalf. “She needs the money, you have no idea what she's going through” I huffed, crossing my arms and standing up, not wanting to be near the two men.  “Oh we do, it's all you talk about” Freddie now chimed in, getting annoyed with our arguing. “Oh fuck off do i” i said my own anger bubbling now, my tone a lot harsher than i realised, looking at each of the guys. “Roger, you either talk about how good she is or what issues she's facing, and as much as i sympathise, i really do, we also have shit we need to get done” Freddie lectured me for a moment. Was it really that obvious? Did i really talk about her that much, did she ever notice this?

“Maybe just ask her out mate” Brian stated, taking me out of my thoughts. I just scoffed at this. “Maybe just ruin our friendship if she says no and then she would never want to talk to me again?” I spat back at him. There was no way she liked me, she just saw me as her boss and that was it. “Let's just finish this song” I said as the silence became unbearable. “Mate, just talk to her,” John said before I went into the booth. I just ignored him, signalling that I never wanted this conversation to happen ever again. 

As I was at my stool I just thought about what the guys had said. Maybe they were right. But what if they weren’t? What if she just saw me as a friend and nothing more, I couldn't bear not seeing her everyday. 

Readers POV - 

I was actually on time today. I had pre packed my bag last night, the prints had come out amazing and I couldn't wait to show the boys. The coffee shop was dead, and the barista had remembered the day before's order so the coffees were quick, it was an outrageously sunny day and everything was falling in place. I was one street away from the studio when I heard my name being called. I looked over my shoulder and saw a blonde bush bound towards me. “Hey let me help you” Roger smiled at me, slinging my bag over his shoulder before I could protest. “Shit you carry this every day? Its fucking heavy” he laughed as he walked next to me towards the studio. “Yeah, it sucks, but I never know what you will need” I giggled as he opened the door for me. I mouthed a thankyou as I turned and smiled at the girls at reception. 

“How come you’re so late?” I asked as we both stepped into the lift. “Nice morning i wanted to enjoy it before being cooped up in here all day” Roger shrugged as he looked down at me. “That's sweet,” I sighed, looking back at him, meeting his gaze. I felt a warmth start to bubble in my stomach, turning away quickly before he had the chance to notice the slight pink that had crept onto my cheeks. Roger cleared his throat, breaking the silence in the small room. “Sleep well then?” he said out of nowhere. “Oh yeah, i think they are away, best night i have had in so long, i feel so good” i said shyly, daring myself to look back and see that Roger had never averted his gaze. “I can tell, you look good, not that you don't always look good, but today you just look, well amazing” he stumbled over his words. The ding of the lift took us out of the moment as the doors opened and we could hear the boys down the other end of the corridor. “Best get to work” Roger sighed, stepping away first. I followed him like a lost puppy into the studio. 

“Hello you two” Freddie acknowledged our presence as Roger put my bag down and I handed out the drinks. “Starting to wonder what you were getting up to” He added, causing a light blush to stain my cheeks, not daring to look back at Roger. “Oh i have the prints” i diverted the attention as i handed out the papers to the boys, which luckily caused a welcome distraction. 

Today felt different. I caught myself stealing glances of the drummer, and whenever I looked he was returning the gesture. I knew it was a dangerous game I was playing, Roger was known to be a heartbreaker, but it was easy to see why the groupies loved him so much. He was attractive, funny, caring, and he listened to me and all my silly little complaints. Shit i think I fancied Roger. “Y/N” someone shouted, breaking me from my thoughts. I hummed a response and looked at the studio manager who was beckoning me. 

“Are you going to go and get us lunch or not?” he said through gritted teeth. Oh god I need to really work on my time keeping skills. “Yes I'm sorry” I whispered, grabbing my spare bag and a note with everyone's orders on it. I went to press the lift when I heard footsteps behind me. “I’ll come with” Rogers unmistakable voice said, now standing next to me. “Oh no no, honestly, it's fine,” I said awkwardly, waving the little piece of paper. “Honestly I need a break” Roger shrugged stepping into the lift. I just rolled my eyes following him. 

We walked in a comfortable silence all the way to the little sandwich shop I went to almost every day for the boys. Once I had placed the order I joined Roger at a table in the corner. “You really didn't have to come” I smiled sitting down opposite him. “Thought you could use the company” he said with a goofy grin making me giggle. “Also i wanted to talk to you, alone” he said, leaning his arms on the table, fidgeting with his fingers. “Oh god you’re not firing me are you?” I joked, meeting his eyes and realised he wasn't joking at all. “You’re not are you?” I whispered, a pang in my stomach causing nerves to encase me. The silence seemed to last forever. “Oh god no, sorry” Roger said suddenly, causing my nerves to subside momentarily. “Then what is it?” I asked, searching his eyes for answers. “I worry about you Y/N” he started. “Roger, I've told you we aren't having this conversation again” I said, slightly irritated. “Please let me finish” he almost asked as he reached a hand out, placing it on top of my own. I took my own shaky breath, as the simple touch made me feel nervous all over again. “I worry because I care about you Y/N” his words spun around my head as my breath hitched in my throat. “I care about you so fucking much, i want you to be so happy, and i want to be the one who makes he happy” he confessed almost sheepishly. “I don't want to be that womaniser they write about in the magazines, i want you to know that everyday, just seeing you makes me so happy, and i only want you” the confession continued. I felt the butterflies in my stomach start going off in a frenzy, i didn't know what to say, this is the most sincere and rawest i had seen the drummer ever. “Please say something” Roger asked me, his grip on my hand never faltering. I blinked myself out of the trance, praying this isn't some silly daydream, but no it was all real. “You’re so goofy” I giggled, leaning forward, making the first move and crashing my lips against his own. I could have stayed in the moment forever. His soft lips melding perfectly with mine, his spare hand cupping my cheek as I lean across the table. “Order 34” a shriek said, pulling us from our own personal bliss. 

“So wanna get a drink sometime?” Roger smirked as I picked up the order. “Haha yes you idiot” I giggled as he wrapped an arm around me and we made our way back to the studio in our own personal bliss.

[dozenredrosez]

why is roger smiling like that-

[iminlovewith-rogers-car]

Roger: if you drink 2 5hrs energy drinks, would it give you 10 hours of energy, or 5 hours of double energy?

Freddie: 10 hours, obviously

Roger: wrong! 5 hours is the only logical answer

Freddie: how is that logical??

Roger: what you're saying is the second drink will wait for it's turn?

Freddie: Brian, what do you think you'd get, 5 double energy hours, or 10 normal ones?

Brian: a heart attack, you get a heart attack

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Friendly reminder that John Deacon wrote You're My Best Friend about his wife and that's really cute

[bowieandqueen11]

Memories / Older! Roger Taylor Fluff

Request: Hey I was wondering if you could do a Roger imagine where the reader and him have been married for a long time and they reminisce on when he proposed . Thank you 💞 

This is so sweet thank you my lovely anon!! <3

Roger’s mouth stretches open to allow a giant yawn to erupt as he stretches his arms over his head, groaning softly to himself as the cold breeze of the autumn morning blew in through the open windowpane, caressing his bellybutton. The pillowcase is silky against the silver hairs of his forearm as he drags them back down, landing softly on his stomach as he blinks his eyes a few times, smiling softly to himself as he gets to wake up yet again next to the love of his life, you. 

Chuckling hoarsely to himself, his tired fingers subconsciously dance up his palm to fiddle with his wedding ring. Glancing over at you with wide, dopey eyes, the slight gold flecks that swirl in his irises brightening like when he first spotted you in the crowd many many years ago in the growing dim rays of hazy light that gleam through the half-pulled blinds, he shifts quietly onto his side, his eyes never leaving your face, fearful his movement might wake you up.

What would he do without you, he thinks, as his hand clumsily reaches up to stroke a loose curl behind the tip of your ear, his eyes lost and thoughtful as they search over the dips and planes of your cheeks, a face he had spent many years on tour memorising. He would just lie there, too excited to sleep on the bumping tour bus, not to mention Freddie’s thunderous snoring from next door, hands folded over themselves just above his waist line, his eyes beaming and lips turned up in a smile as he lies back against the feathery pillow, thinking of just tracing his fingertip of the creases against the corner of your eyes, over your cute little button nose.

What he wouldn’t give to go back in time and tell his younger self just to hold on. To see him now. Just how his dreams would all come true.

Roger’s hand has balled into a tight fist, grazing your hip in a gentle tickle as his mind wanders, grasping your light tee tightly, his gaze settling from the falling orange leaves of the tall oak tree and the slight wisps of grey clouds in the morning sky to rest on your face as you begin to shuffle awake. Chuckling gently to yourself, you slowly turn your body to grab one of the pillows resting underneath your head, before thwacking it gently on top of his head with a satisfying flop. His eyes widen suddenly, flashing brightly in mild shock. The dimple on his cheek raises slightly as his tired eyes take the pillow in your hand into focus, rushing towards you before you can move to start tickling the curves of your side in swirling motions with his slender, sluggish fingers. Once he’s satisfied with the screeching begging coming out of your mouth, your pleads for him to stop mixing with high-pitched giggles which are music to his ears, whilst your legs swing about wildly, he pulls the covers swiftly up to both your shoulders before letting his head fall onto your shoulder with a loud thump. A contented, lazy groan escapes his mouth, warming the tingling skin of your collarbone as he mumbles ‘you’re not going anywhere’. Before you have time to question his meaning, one leg wraps over your waist like a big cuddly koala bear, soft whines protruding from his plump lips as one slender arm finds its way to cup your side, snuggling into you whilst blowing a wet raspberry onto your neck as he lowers his head against your thumping chest.

~

It’s finally a few peaceful hours later when the two of you manage to topple out of bed and teeter your way into the kitchen, hair flying in all directions and a thick arm wrapped tightly around your waist, promising to never let go again. Roger’s navy shorts rise unevenly up his left thigh as he begins to hum loudly, reaching over your chest to turn on the radio. Switching on the hob, his hums grow louder, blasting through the walls of the kitchen and making you stifle your laughter with a fist as he pulls out a pan from the cupboard directly next to his thigh. Twirling through the kitchen in nothing but his pyjamas was quite a picture, and you which you had your Polaroid on you in that second, the spatula in his hand as a frying pan fizzles and boils like a witch’s cauldron on the hob being raised up as a makeshift microphone. His eyes lid slightly, gazing at you as he saunters over the cold kitchen tiles with a bright smile gracing his face, before he grabs your hand and whispers, ‘this reminds me so much of that day, you know?’

’Which day?’, you giggle lightly.

’The day I became the luckiest man on earth, y/n. The day I made you pancakes, and then our song came on the radio and I made you twirl with me around the kitchen before deciding that was it. I would never be so in love with anyone else.’

Twirling you slightly in his grasp, slight hoarse chuckles erupting from his lips which are buried into the curve of your neck, he nearly slips on the floor, his breath brushing warm against your skin as he nestles into you. Your hair tickles his chest as his nose bumps against the side of your cheek, a smile brightening his face as you whisper, ‘and just look at us now, Roger Taylor. Nothing’s changed.’