NOW WHOS CUTTING THE GODDAMN ONIONS

NOW WHO’S CUTTING THE GODDAMN ONIONS 

“Freddie is… Well, he’s my best friend. He’s very good for me, you know. I do not like meeting new people, but when I’m with Freddie I stop being shy! It’s amazing how he ‘works’ on me. And sometimes he’s the only one person who understands me… He’s my voice, you know…”

— John Deacon

When Things Fall Apart PART 3 [ROGER TAYLOR x READER]

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

Summary: You and Roger fall out of love, but is it possible for you guys to fall back into love?

Word count: 1077

Contains: fluffiness I think? idek

A/N: Ah sorry this took so long to post!! School actually kicked my ass this week. Good news: I’ve basically finished the next couple of chapters (just need to make some revisions and such), so they’ll be up VERY SOON. Thank you so much for reading!!! 

PART ONE // PART TWO

3 years later

You’re at a bakery, looking for some sweets to bring for one of your employee’s birthdays. You were surprised with your decision as you don’t normally go to this bakery (it used to be one of your favorite spots, but overtime, you just stopped going). Stopped going because after you moved, it was just too far away––too far away even if they had your all time favorite pastry. Today, though, you had a particularly strong craving for their lemon and poppyseed scones (you used to eat their scones everyday for breakfast on your way to work), so you decided to make the drive down.  

“Y/N! I haven’t seen you in ages!” the old woman behind the counter exclaims when you walk through the door. 

“Hello, Mrs. Clarkson!” you reply with a smile, a bit surprised but touched that she still remembers you. 

“You are one mean lady, Miss Y/L/N. Leaving me all of a sudden with no explanation!” she scolds, hands on her hips. You laugh a little and scratch the back of your head, blushing. 

“Uh––I––I had––”  

“I’m just giving you a hard time, lovie,” she says with a wink and a wave of her hand. “The important thing is that you’re here now, so what can I get for you, sweetheart?” You know that she knows when you see her eyes soften with sympathy and the fact that she doesn’t ask, but honestly, you wouldn’t have minded if she did. 

“I mean, I was just going to get a lemon and poppyseed scone for myself, but I forgot about all of the other amazing things you make,” you say, eyeing the array of glazed pastries and fluffy breads behind the glass display case. 

“Aw! Stop it, you flatter me!” she says, shaking her hand. 

As you hunch down to look at the various baked goods while catching up with Mrs. Clarkson (“How’s Mr. Clarkson?” “Oh, he’s good, sorry he isn’t here right now, but he had to take Will to the vet”), the chimes above the door ring as another customer walks in. 

“Good morning Mrs. Clarkson, you’re looking beautiful as always! I was wondering, do you have––” The voice stops.  

“Y/N?” you hear someone ask from behind you. Looking over your shoulder––you see him. You blink, not quite believing the sight in front of you. The sight of him: him in sweatpants and a knit sweater, his usual black sunglasses sitting atop his head, blond hair messy (you assume that he just woke up before coming here to get some breakfast). His arms hang limply by his sides, his jaw slack.

“Oh, hello Roger dear!” Mrs. Clarkson greets back, and you snap out of your state of slight paralysis. 

He doesn’t look at her, though. Doesn’t even seem to hear her. Doesn’t look as his eyes are too busy trained solely on you. Drinking in the sight of you. In any other situation, you would’ve blushed under his intense gaze, but you don’t notice.

“Oh my God. Roger?” you finally say––that being the only thing that you could come up with as a response. The first thing you notice is that his hair is a bit shorter. 

He gives you a hesitant smile, raising his hands out from his sides, palms facing up.

“The one and only?” he asks with a sheepish grin. 

And despite the shock and the surprise and the fact that you haven’t seen nor talked to him in three years, you smile at him. A real, genuine smile. 

And despite his shock and his surprise and the fact that he legitimately thought his heart had stopped beating when he saw you, he smiles back. A real, genuine smile. The first thing he noticed is that you’re absolutely glowing. 

You’re the first to make a move and walk over to him. You pause before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He hugs you back. The embrace feels familiar and alien at the same time. He thinks the same thing. 

“How are you?” you ask after pulling away. 

“I’m good, I’m good,” he replies, his hands fiddling with the sides of his sunglasses. He eventually just shoves them into his pockets. 

“I watched your last show on the telly a few nights ago––you guys were amazing,” you say. He blushes fiercely. 

“Oh that––that was nothing.” You raise your brows.

“Don’t tell me the infamous Roger Taylor’s gone all modest now?” you joke. He barks out a laugh.

“I’m trying something new…except I don’t think it’s working…people can’t seem to get enough of my irresistible charm,” he says back, making you laugh, and he smiles, seeing you happy. “What are you doing down here? Don’t you live more uptown?” he asks.

“You know, I was really craving a lemon scone…” you admit. His eyes soften with memories. “Which reminds me––I’ll take a lemon scone, a coffee, and, uhh, two dozen of those Danish pastries,” you say quickly to Mrs. Clarkson who’s standing behind the counter. Eyes shining bright with joy as she watches the two of you together again. 

“It’s on the house, my dear,” she says, sliding the box of pastries to you. 

“Oh my god, no, I can’t take all of this,” you say, reaching into your wallet. 

“Oh, please, I haven’t seen you in years, please take it, for me,” she says, refusing to take the credit card you’re holding out towards her. You sigh. 

“Okay, fine, but I’m going to take you out for dinner in exchange,” you say before taking the box and coffee. 

“It was really nice seeing you Rog.” As you grab the door handle, you stop as he starts speaking.

“Hey Y/N?” you turn around once again. “Would you––would you want to have some breakfast together some time?” he asks. You pause. 

“Yeah––yeah, I would love to,” you say. “And Mrs. Clarkson––make sure your schedule is free next week because I’m taking you to a nice dinner––I’m being serious!” you call out, hearing her warm laughter follow you out the door and to the sidewalk. 

“Such a nice girl,” Mrs. Clarkson says. Roger makes a noise of agreement as he watches you walk to your car. She raises her brows at him. 

“You know, it was nice seeing you both together again,” she says carefully while grabbing his order. 

“Yeah, yeah it was.” 

PART FOUR

Permanent taglist:

@thefirstkillerqueen @hysterical-queen-trash @clara-who @ladycataztrophe @ghost-in-love

WHEN THINGS FALL APART Taglist:

@perriwiinkle @professionofviolence @wint-er-voices @soulmates8 @borhapqueen92 @dreamer7black @ma-ntequilla @benhardyjones @discodeakyy @aylinnmaslow @yyyycykaaaaaaa  @nasa-freak​ @majorlyextra @maem-rae @nowisours-nowisforever

When Things Fall Apart PART 3 [ROGER TAYLOR x READER]

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

Summary: You and Roger fall out of love, but is it possible for you guys to fall back into love?

Word count: 1077

Contains: fluffiness I think? idek

A/N: Ah sorry this took so long to post!! School actually kicked my ass this week. Good news: I’ve basically finished the next couple of chapters (just need to make some revisions and such), so they’ll be up VERY SOON. Thank you so much for reading!!! 

PART ONE // PART TWO

3 years later

You’re at a bakery, looking for some sweets to bring for one of your employee’s birthdays. You were surprised with your decision as you don’t normally go to this bakery (it used to be one of your favorite spots, but overtime, you just stopped going). Stopped going because after you moved, it was just too far away––too far away even if they had your all time favorite pastry. Today, though, you had a particularly strong craving for their lemon and poppyseed scones (you used to eat their scones everyday for breakfast on your way to work), so you decided to make the drive down.  

“Y/N! I haven’t seen you in ages!” the old woman behind the counter exclaims when you walk through the door. 

“Hello, Mrs. Clarkson!” you reply with a smile, a bit surprised but touched that she still remembers you. 

“You are one mean lady, Miss Y/L/N. Leaving me all of a sudden with no explanation!” she scolds, hands on her hips. You laugh a little and scratch the back of your head, blushing. 

“Uh––I––I had––”  

“I’m just giving you a hard time, lovie,” she says with a wink and a wave of her hand. “The important thing is that you’re here now, so what can I get for you, sweetheart?” You know that she knows when you see her eyes soften with sympathy and the fact that she doesn’t ask, but honestly, you wouldn’t have minded if she did. 

“I mean, I was just going to get a lemon and poppyseed scone for myself, but I forgot about all of the other amazing things you make,” you say, eyeing the array of glazed pastries and fluffy breads behind the glass display case. 

“Aw! Stop it, you flatter me!” she says, shaking her hand. 

As you hunch down to look at the various baked goods while catching up with Mrs. Clarkson (“How’s Mr. Clarkson?” “Oh, he’s good, sorry he isn’t here right now, but he had to take Will to the vet”), the chimes above the door ring as another customer walks in. 

“Good morning Mrs. Clarkson, you’re looking beautiful as always! I was wondering, do you have––” The voice stops.  

“Y/N?” you hear someone ask from behind you. Looking over your shoulder––you see him. You blink, not quite believing the sight in front of you. The sight of him: him in sweatpants and a knit sweater, his usual black sunglasses sitting atop his head, blond hair messy (you assume that he just woke up before coming here to get some breakfast). His arms hang limply by his sides, his jaw slack.

“Oh, hello Roger dear!” Mrs. Clarkson greets back, and you snap out of your state of slight paralysis. 

He doesn’t look at her, though. Doesn’t even seem to hear her. Doesn’t look as his eyes are too busy trained solely on you. Drinking in the sight of you. In any other situation, you would’ve blushed under his intense gaze, but you don’t notice.

“Oh my God. Roger?” you finally say––that being the only thing that you could come up with as a response. The first thing you notice is that his hair is a bit shorter. 

He gives you a hesitant smile, raising his hands out from his sides, palms facing up.

“The one and only?” he asks with a sheepish grin. 

And despite the shock and the surprise and the fact that you haven’t seen nor talked to him in three years, you smile at him. A real, genuine smile. 

And despite his shock and his surprise and the fact that he legitimately thought his heart had stopped beating when he saw you, he smiles back. A real, genuine smile. The first thing he noticed is that you’re absolutely glowing. 

You’re the first to make a move and walk over to him. You pause before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He hugs you back. The embrace feels familiar and alien at the same time. He thinks the same thing. 

“How are you?” you ask after pulling away. 

“I’m good, I’m good,” he replies, his hands fiddling with the sides of his sunglasses. He eventually just shoves them into his pockets. 

“I watched your last show on the telly a few nights ago––you guys were amazing,” you say. He blushes fiercely. 

“Oh that––that was nothing.” You raise your brows.

“Don’t tell me the infamous Roger Taylor’s gone all modest now?” you joke. He barks out a laugh.

“I’m trying something new…except I don’t think it’s working…people can’t seem to get enough of my irresistible charm,” he says back, making you laugh, and he smiles, seeing you happy. “What are you doing down here? Don’t you live more uptown?” he asks.

“You know, I was really craving a lemon scone…” you admit. His eyes soften with memories. “Which reminds me––I’ll take a lemon scone, a coffee, and, uhh, two dozen of those Danish pastries,” you say quickly to Mrs. Clarkson who’s standing behind the counter. Eyes shining bright with joy as she watches the two of you together again. 

“It’s on the house, my dear,” she says, sliding the box of pastries to you. 

“Oh my god, no, I can’t take all of this,” you say, reaching into your wallet. 

“Oh, please, I haven’t seen you in years, please take it, for me,” she says, refusing to take the credit card you’re holding out towards her. You sigh. 

“Okay, fine, but I’m going to take you out for dinner in exchange,” you say before taking the box and coffee. 

“It was really nice seeing you Rog.” As you grab the door handle, you stop as he starts speaking.

“Hey Y/N?” you turn around once again. “Would you––would you want to have some breakfast together some time?” he asks. You pause. 

“Yeah––yeah, I would love to,” you say. “And Mrs. Clarkson––make sure your schedule is free next week because I’m taking you to a nice dinner––I’m being serious!” you call out, hearing her warm laughter follow you out the door and to the sidewalk. 

“Such a nice girl,” Mrs. Clarkson says. Roger makes a noise of agreement as he watches you walk to your car. She raises her brows at him. 

“You know, it was nice seeing you both together again,” she says carefully while grabbing his order. 

“Yeah, yeah it was.” 

Permanent taglist:

@thefirstkillerqueen @hysterical-queen-trash @clara-who @ladycataztrophe @ghost-in-love

WHEN THINGS FALL APART Taglist:

@perriwiinkle @professionofviolence @wint-er-voices @soulmates8 @borhapqueen92 @dreamer7black @ma-ntequilla @benhardyjones @discodeakyy @aylinnmaslow @yyyycykaaaaaaa  @nasa-freak​ @majorlyextra @maem-rae @nowisours-nowisforever

H I   J O E

Okay I’ve watched this video approximately 562 times, and I’ve always noticed the part where Roger places his hand on Freddie’s side and that gesture is just so pure and and just shows how close they were and just makes me so happy. Ok thank you for reading bye.

This is one of the sweetest moments between Freddie and Roger that was recorded. Roger’s birthday party in Freddie’s suite (1986)

brb while i drown myself in those eyes