#HE MUST HAVE BEEN SO HEARTBROKEN IM YELLING

[mios-art]

Trying to be normal at work but just thinking about Chu Wanning who at 26 thinks he's beyond love and support after spending all his formative years without anyone to stand by him and who developed feelings for the first person who showed some interest and kindness towards him even if it made no sense and who then saw that person fall for someone else

That man who hides when he sees people smiling heading his way because he knows they'll stop smiling if they see him since everyone he knows is afraid of him because he sticks to the rules however harsh those rules are and reacts aggressively at any show of injustice, but who still uses his powers in secret to create barriers to shield his students from the rain and who after failing to save one of his disciple became hated by the person he cared the most about

Chu Wanning who's every clumsy attempts at kindness is taken as mockery or cruelty and who spent the last 10 years of his life being abused emotionally and physically by that same person he loved and and I'm aaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

#HE MUST HAVE BEEN SO HEARTBROKEN IM YELLING #the husky and his white cat shizun #not an art post #if you read this you are strong i forgot how to write it was just brain barf because i have so many feelings about Chu Wanning #he's my poor little meow meow #2ha volume 2 spoilers #2ha #2ha spoilers #chu wanning #im waiting for volume 3

[willowrites]

hey baby! can you write something where Elvis, pressured by the colonel, breaks up with reader, who, years later, becomes a successful actress, and after she becomes someone "important", the colonel no longer tries to stop his boy from get back to her, but now reader thinks he's just trying to take advantage of her and her fame, like all the other mans she mets during her carreer?

i love you, and im sorry. part 1

PAIRINGS. elvis x reader

SUMMARY. you notice elvis acting strange on your date, little did you know the worst you could’ve thought, came …

WARNINGS. angst …

AUTHORS NOTE. hi sorry for the wait school has been stressful lately but here it is!

part 2

“We will both have to make sacrifices.” The colonel says to Elvis. Elvis heart drops immediately. He knows where this would be going. “We will need a record label with national distribution.” He continues.

Elvis’s eyes widen. “RCA?” He questions. “RCA.” The colonel confirms.

Elvis’s mind is spinning. The opportunities the colonel would give him. It’s impossible for him to pass up…but then again.

“Saint Phillips discovered me.” Elvis says furrowing his brows.

“I know, but we have a way to help Sam understand that it would be foolish of him to hold you back. Every man has his price.” The colonel explains. All he sees in his head is helping and supporting his family. “It’s just business. Show business.” The colonel smiles at him. “To achieve truly great things, one must make truly great sacrifices.”

He saw this coming. He knows.

“You will have to be free of any entanglements. You see my boy, show business is snow business. And the fans need to believe that you are always avaliable.”

There it was. What he knew he would hear.

“You mean like…” Elvis slowly starts to ask the colonel. He didnt want to end things with you. He loves you. He’s never loved anyone like he loves you.

“You have to end things with y/n. It will hurt her but she will realize you are doing this for yourself. She would be completely inconsiderate if she held you back.” The colonel justifies. All Elvis sees is you and him, in his car, you both crying because of the unfortunate mess he would have to create.

“I love her colonel. I…I can’t.” Elvis was already heartbroken, because even though he did love you so very much, he had to do this to support his family. He just hoped you both stayed in each other’s lives.

“My boy…like I said. Sacrifices have to be made.”

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

You were dolling yourself up because Elvis had asked if you could hang out later tonight. It was nearly 7 and Elvis was about to be here to pick you up. You pampered yourself making sure you smelled beautifully as well as felt beautiful.

You haven’t seen Elvis in a while. About a week to be precise. You always got nervous before you had dates, so inherently your hands were trembling and sweating in nervousness.

“Honey, Elvis is here.” Your mother advises you through your bedroom door. You touched up your lipstick and sprayed your hair with a bit of hairspray before grabbing your purse and walking out towards the front door.

“Be back by 12 y/n/n.” Your father had yelled from the dining table.

“I will Pa!” You answered him as your mother kissed your cheek.

“Have fun sweet girl.” She says bye as you walk out the front door to see Elvis waiting for you on your porch.

‘Hi.” You greeted him with a light kiss on his lips. His heart fluttered at that small touch. God, this was going to be hard.

‘H-hey mama.” His aura seemed off. You felt something in the atmosphere that was making things between you off.

“What’s wrong?” You asked concerned and he shook his head.

“Nun’, can we…take a ride?” He asks you and you nod taking his hand in yours. His hand was sweating and trembling too. As if he was afraid your touch would cause him to disappear.

You brushed the uneasiness off and let him walk you to his car. He opened the door and waited for you to get in. Afterwards he closed it walking to the drivers side getting in and starting the ignition.

He drove off and drove you both for about twenty minutes until he settled and parked on a hilltop.

This was bizarre. You felt it. Something was off and you were frightened of what it was.

“Elvis?” You spoke up after the quick silence.

“Y/n, I need to speak to you about something.” He spoke up, his face looking nervous. You had the impulse to brush his untamed hair back.

“What’s wrong? What is it?” Your forehead creased with the worry you had. Whatever he was about to say was not going to be good.

“We…we can’t be together anymore.” He hurriedly said scanning your face for your reaction.

You eyebrows drew together. He couldn’t be serious. What did he mean? Why? Your heart was racing as if it was running away from your body trying to escape. What Elvis just said wasn’t clicking.

“What do you mean Elvis?” You asked. Your fingers finding their way towards your bracelet Elvis had given you. Your first gift you’ve ever received from Elvis.

“The colonel said, for me to do great in my career…it’d be best if I didn’t have a girl.” He explained to you.

You felt tears prickle your eyes. The colonel? You know this would’ve been something to consider but you never realized it could become reality.

Elvis was breaking up with you? Elvis was leaving you.

“A-and you…you’re going to agree with him?” You couldn’t help but ask as your eyesight was being flooded with your tears.

“Y/n…” His voice cracked. “It’s what he said I need to do. For my family and my career. The fans…they need to think I am available.”

“But do you want this Elvis. I ain’t askin’ about the colonel.” You sniffled.

“Of course not! I would never! But I want to be able to support my family. To give my mama everything she deserves! Try to understand that.” Elvis exemplifies.

“I do…” You cry. You dont want to be thoughtless. You understand where he is coming from. But you can't help and be mad at him. “D-do you love me?” Tears streaming down both your faces you question.

“I do. Of course I love you mama, but I have to do this.” He weeps and takes your hand in his.

Your eyes shut as tears are poring out of them. Your nose is running as your head bowed and your shoulders shook as you cried.

His left hand holding yours as his right hand made its way to your head moving your hair to the side.

“B-baby..” His voice shook. He loathed doing this to you. He hated seeing you cry. He wish he could erase himself from your memory so you forgot about the pain he caused you.

You shook your head and tried wiping your tears away.

“We can still see each other but…I'm sorry I can't be with you.” He tried to come up with a solution.

There was no way you could see him without being hurt, without wanting to be with him, without him being yours.

You tried to catch your breath. You took a deep breath and tried wiping your tears without smudging off your blush.

As soon as you calmed down you spoke up.

“I can’t see you.” You told him. “It would hurt too much.”

That’s when his heart shattered. This is what he was most fearful of. Losing you.

His lip started quivering so he turned his head to look outwards towards his window.

It’s not her fault.

“I’m sorry.” Is all Elvis said.

Moments passed. You both still holding each other’s hands not wanting to let each other go.

Both your minds wandering elsewhere. Imagining the different scenarios in which you both wouldn’t have each other in your lives.

After about 20 minutes you felt your eyes droop. You were tired, hungry, and heartbroken. You just needed to go home. You cant handle this right now.

“Take me home, please.” You spoke up. His hand reacted to your request. He squeezed your hand lightly. He didnt want to let it go.

As soon as he turned his car off and pulled out of his parking space and put it back in drive, his hand went directly back to holding yours which made your heart break even more.

The ride to your house was quiet. Sadness and despair filling the air. You stared into space just thinking about how life would be from now on.

You came back to reality as you recognized the familiar houses of your nieghborhood.

He put his car in park quickly getting out and running to your side of the car pulling the door open for you to get out.

You got out grabbing your purse and walked rather quickly to your front door.

“Y/n” Elvis stopped you. You turned around slowly to see his eyes red and swollen. His cheeks flushed, hair still untamed, wet cheeks. He still looked beautiful.

He walked up to you and grabbed your face and pulling it towards his connecting both your lips.

You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach. He held you close and moved his lips against yours. Your hands found their way towards the back of his neck and wanted to pull him impossibly closer.

He slowed down and pulled away before giving you three last pecks.

I love you.

“I just needed to do that, one last time.” He whispered up against your lips.

Your felt your eyes sting.

One last time.

He pulled you into an embrace and buried his head into your neck smelling your beautiful floral scent.

“Goodbye y/n.”

He pulled away and you looked at him up close for one last time.

“Goodbye Elvis.” You said as he’s walking back towards his car.

AUTHORS NOTE. i hope you enjoyed this! thank you so much for this request! i decided to make this into other parts so that you could pause and you weren’t reading forever! the next part will be posted soon! requests are still open!!

#elvis x reader #elvis imagine #elvis film #elvis presley smut #elvis fans #elvis smut #elvis presley #elvis music #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austin butler fanfic #austin butler #elvis 2022

[forever-rogue]

Me wondering if Frankie was too quick to anger at you discovering the bag, and realizing that hes likely since getting clean, been on the defense constantly. Having to be on the defense to his family, his friends, the review board for his pilots license, everyone expecting him to either be lying or to fall off the wagon beacuse its common among addicts.

And that just mixed with this fear that youre suddenly going to see him the dark way he sees himself, one day. That you asking him about this meant you expected the lowest of him like so many others. But also how devastated he feels when hes had time to think.

To realize that by assuming you thought the worst of him, that hes assuming something bad about your character and questioning your love for him. And how heartbroken he must feel for putting you through that and being yelled at like that.

I dont imagine fights are common with Frankie, in fact i imagine they are extremely rare and most takes place earlier on when hes still insecure about his own life compared to yours. And even after a rough fight about a hard subject matter, his friends are still jealous at how much better and closer you became after making up.

Like despite his personal issues, im willing to bet the guys are super envious of you and his relationship. That you two can fight over his drug possession and come out softer and more in love on the other side.

oh, you put this into words wonderfully! i think anyone that has had to overcome a big issue like that goes through a period where it is almost like you get defensive when someone confronts you about them - not because necessarily because you're angry with them but that's little bit of doubt you have remaining within yourself. things can take a long time to work and they're going to be up and down and real life is hardly perfect!

frankie is best boyfriend frankie for a reason - he's hardened but he's a gentle soul. at the end of the day, he knows when and who to fight for. he's always got his honey bee and she's got him!

#･:*:･♡･:*:･♡ message received #frankie morales

[neo-shitty]

hope you dont mind me popping in to your inbox to scream abt whc1 bc you are truly the only person out of my friend circle that has watched it 😭😭 first of all

facts. he can do no wrong.

second of all its been days and i am still processing like this has never happened to me before ?? usually i am a lil :// until the rest of the day when i finish a sad drama but with this im just so heartbroken still. yesterday during a big mental breakdown (unrelated to the drama i am not THAT crazy ok) i realised why it hit me so hard and i think its bc i somehow relate to sieun (anger issues and all /j) and so i somehow projected into his character and so when it all went down with suho i just couldnt deal w it ?? I LEGIT HAD A MINI PANIC ATTACK it felt like it was happening to me 😭😭😭 like he was such comfort for me. he broke the cycle of loneliness and stereotype for sieun and i just really adored each interaction they had. the fact that they would both kill and die for each other makes me bawl my eyes out.

but when it all comes down to it, i understand beomseok, i really do, but i also dont. i dont think ill ever forgive that character, i just cant. i cant imagine how it must have felt for him and i couldnt be able to deal w life either if i was in his shoes, but my brain just cant grasp the lengths he went to hurt people that did nothing but care for him and tried to help him with everything. he's a complex character for sure, one you have to analyze to get, but i dont have it in me to have a single ounce of sympathy after the ending of the drama.

but to think that the parents and the adults were truly at fault here ?? beomseok being abused, sieun abandoned and neglected, suho not really having parents around either (i read somewhere that they are canonically abroad or something?? not too sure), the policemen not taking sieun seriously at first, the teachers seeing the shit happening and not doing anything to stop the bullying... where were everyones parents when all those kids got caught up w the gang? its truly sickening and heartbreaking to think that this truly could be happening anywhere and to anyone.

and it broke me so much bc i could accept beomseok drifting away from them and stuff, but to gang up on suho on his fucking birthday? sieun cooking and decorating with young yi and taking pics for her insta (i strongly believe her and sieuns friendship is SO underrated they were so cute together) and both of them just hid it from everyone to protect suho,, their sunshine ??? the poor boy must have been so confused and lonely on his bday and it makes me :( and then when he saw sieuns cast and went to avenge him ?? I read something about how suho always fought only in self defence but when he saw sieun hurt he crossed the line and fought with the purpose of hurting somebody only bc his best friend was put in danger and that- that broke me.

also i find it funny how i found the drama through a clip on tiktok where jihoon cried at watching the last scene where sieun breaks the window and i was like oh this should be just the right amount of sad for me rn and then i got emotionally damaged. :,)

yeah anyways my fav trope is found family and FUCK all of those who hurt my sunshine bc now im forever heartbroken.

sorry for the rant toffee but it did felt cathartic to write this all out

bar, please don't worry about it. feel free to come back any time you have to yell about it and i'll try to get back to you as soon as i can.

sooho was just too easy to love. we headed into that show blind HAHA we should've known it was too good to be true! i never saw it coming actually.

same !! took me days to get over this too. *hugs* i'm sorry about the mental breakdown, i hope you're feeling a bit better now !! oh the projection must've made the whole thing twice as hard. again, sooho was such a comfort character :( his happy go lucky nature was such a breath of fresh air esp when the themes occasionally got dark. i want that dynamic for me actually (to kill and die for each other, yes). i usually find it corny but it was so well executed here.

oh bumseok :( i think it's valid to simultaneously understand him but at the same time, find what he did unforgivable. i get where he was coming from and how he was just looking for a place to fit in—where he wasn't looked down on. idk how to describe it but when he started misreading the situation (like that whole bit abt sooho not following him on ig but following young yi), i think something in him snapped. he was so fed up with being helpless at home and at his previous school that when it happened a third time, he did everything to get back and lashed out.

I 100% BELIEVE THE ADULTS WERE ABSOLUTE SHITTIEST NEGLIGENT FUCKERS AROUND. like???? leaving a scamming syndicate to be dealt with by high schoolers?????? bumseok's fake ass politician dad??????? sure, sieun's parents were 'present' but emotionally distant, like check on your kids bitches or not have them at all god dAMN. i thought some of the aspects of the bullying were exaggerated bc from where i'm from it never gets that bad but hearing that to an extent, it was truthful about it just left me dumbfounded. how could parents allow things like this to happen under the radar? it's unbelievable and heartbreaking to me.

yeah, i thought bumseok would just join his cool boy squad but he really had to do whatever the fuck he did :D my girl, i know you read my tags and i was vile as fuck towards him but at the time i was just so angry too. also yes! youngyi and sieun's friendship <3 i wish they had more time </3 and honestly, if bumseok didn't do a whole 180, i think the four of them would make such a cute squad. like the way they would protect each other??? hmp :/

'i read something about how suho always fought only in self defence but when he saw sieun hurt he crossed the line and fought with the purpose of hurting somebody only bc his best friend was put in danger and that- that broke me.' i saw that the other day and that broke me to fucking hell i could sell anyone's soul to see them together again (SPECIFICALLY, with the other one being fine and out of comatose yes i would love that for me.

ohhh, i've been meaning to watch that vid of them reacting to whc1 but at the time it didn't have subs. jihoon's acting was so fucking effective like??? the sadness the eyes of that man has can sway me to do anything !! so sorry that you got so much more than just a little sad bout. heading into this drama blind was like bringing a knife to a whole war.

this show made me realize that tragedy could strike any pairing on any show and i wouldn't bat an eye but have the same happen to a found family and then i'm instantly destroyed. THE SHOW ACTUALLY REMINDED ME OF YOUR CHENJI FIC????? FUCK. please do let me know if you ever get around to writing something related to them haha i'm ready to be destroyed.

please do not ever apologize for ranting especially about this show !! i went through this whole phase ALONE last year (watching it after christmas was the biggest mistake, i ended my year DEPRESSED as FUCK) so i'm offering as much help as i can.

#ah joy finally someone to talk to about whc1 #<3 #toff.asks #mosviqu

[serenity-songbird]

Eyyyy! <333

May I get Butters, Kyle, Cartman with reader who has anxiety and avoidant personality disorder?? was diagnosed with them just today + im taking antidepressants hihi <3 if u wanna add, then insomnia i have it diagnosed too~~~ headcanons and romantic pls pls!

As a person diagnosed with Anxiety and insomnia, I completely understand the struggle. 😭😭😭 Thank you for the request. I just want you to know that dispite not knowing you, I already love and accept you. ❤❤❤

-Butters is a sweet little angel and will tend to each and everyone of your needs.

-If you are ever feeling uncomfortable around other people, he will pull you away and take you to your comfort place.

-Expect cuddles and kisses under the blanket while watching TV.

-Holds your hand everywhere you go and it makes you feel safe and secure.

-Whenever you can't sleep, he will face chat you and keep you company. (He tries not to get caught, but he may or may not have been grounded a few times because of it).

-He will sing you lullabies until you fall asleep.

-If you're ever having a panic attack he will pull you close and hug and kiss you until you calm down.

-If anyone is bullying you he will pull you away from the situation since he can't fight them off himself.

-Professor chaos, however, will rip those bullies to shreds.

-You also make him feel more important and confident. Because if he can get a beautiful soul like yours to love you, then he must not be so bad.

-Butters loves you and he will never make you feel bad about yourself and will do everything in his power to make you feel special and wanted.

-He will not understand you at all at first. When you first met he probably made you feel worse about yourself If we are being honest.

-It wasn't until one day when Cartman was once again trying to become a victim that he even noticed you.

-He was threatening to kill himself and no one took him seriously. He didn't want to show it, but it made him feel like nobody cared. He stood at on the edge of the bridge that day and actually contemplated it.

-Then here you coming along, carrying a goodie bag with his favorite snacks. "Don't do it. I know you think no one cares, but if you died, your mother would be heartbroken. Others would miss you too. So keep living, okay? Because even though you can be mean to me sometimes, even I wouldn't want you dead."

-Those words touched his heart in a way no one else has before. He was a lot nicer to you after that.

-You saw a side of him no one else did and because of that he wanted to understand you too.

-If anyone made you feel insecure or harrassed you, he would make them into chilli.

-Will kiss you and cuddle you when you are alone.

-Can't sleep? He'll stay up and watch movie with you.

-Anxious? He will yell at everyone to get away from you. (Though that may or may not make you even more anxious, but he is trying his best okay).

-Despite at one point being the cause of your disorder, he turned it around and ended up helping you become more self confident.

-First things first. This man literally has a schedule on your meds. He will always remind you to take them. They are to help you feel better and you wants you to be okay.

-Will absolutely kick everybody's ass if they make you feel insecure or anxious. (This may be a constant in all my headcanons, but that's because it is literally canon. He will punch first, ask questions later).

-He absolutely adores you and feels the need to protect you.

-Will come up with methods that will help you with dealing with your anxiety and will search up ways to cure you insomnia. (They may not always work, but you appreciate the effort).

-Will make you feel loved, important, and beautiful.

-You are his biggest supporter so of course he is yours.

-Loves it when you lean your head on his shoulder while you are cuddling or watching TV or whatever.

-Will put his arm around your shoulder, pull you close, and kisses your temple.

-Will sneak kisses when his friend's aren't looking, because you just look so cute.

-If you have a panic attack, he will do breathing excersises he saw online with you so you don't pass out.

-His main priority is that you are safe and healthy. So be prepared for nagging if he thinks you aren't taking care of yourself.

-Kyle may be a bit overprotective, but you love him with all your heart and you make each other happy.

#south park x reader #kyle x reader #cartman x reader #butters x reader #south park

[katwritesforfun101]

Ended stories, New beginnings.

Warnings: Angst-Fluff. CHEATER!KirishimaXreader. Denki kaminari. Swearing. Cheating.

Characters:Kirishima and denki

Summary: Kirishima cheats and you confront him.

1.5k words

NOT PROOF READ!!!

Kirishima Eijiro was a sight for sore eyes. Always the manliest and most eye-catching wherever he went. Especially when he was busy saving the world from villains. Everyone's gaze was fixated on him, as he was a part of the top 5. Those gazes continued to linger in the office as well. Gazes that seemed to follow him around the office at each turn.

You were once one of those gazes that followed so you couldn't really complain too much, knowing it was just a part of his career.

One gazze in particular, seemed to bother you. As you would sit behind your desk, filing paperwork for your dear old fiance, you noticed her gaze. You don't know what bothered you more. The fact she would undress him with her eyes, or that he would do it back.

This went on for about three month after that. There were now lingered touches and leaned in whispers, anad frequent office visits for ‘extra help’. You recall a specific instance where you heard noises coming from his office. After many sleepless nights alone, with him not coming back until 3 or 4 o'clock in the morning, you decided enough was enough.

-----------------------------------

“Do you love her?” Silence. One beat. Two beats. Three beats. “I dont know.” Kiri says, staring back at you with guilty eyes already knowing what you're talking about. You smile weakly.

“I do,” you began softly, eyes falling to the carpeted ground. “You love her, Eiji, And i think you have for a while now.” You look back up to find him shaking, tears fallen.

His eyes are squeezed shut, trying to wake up from this nightmare. “I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.” he said, opening his eyes. “I know kirishima.” he winces, “Baby, im eiji. Remember? I'm your eiji!” His voice raices an octave with each word. “No. Not anymore. You're Her eiji now.”

You nod once to yourself. Her eiji, not yours. Your eiji wouldn't betray you like this. He wouldn't bring you up just to tear you down again. You turn on your heel and start walking towards your and his shared bedroom.You head straight to the closet and grab a bag from the top shelf and start stuffing it with clothes and essential hygiene things.

Meanwhile, Kirishima is just stunned in the living room, standing there gaping like a fish out of water. He hears the bedroom door slam shut once again and he snaps back into reality and rushes towards you, stopping right in front of the apartment door.

You turn facing him, no longer crying. “I loved you. No, I love you. I think I always will. But I don't need you. I'll get over you. It will take a while but i will.” and with that you leave bags in hand.

Kirishima just stands there. He knows he has no right to want to stop you. Hell, he was fooling around with another woman for months. All he could do was fall to his knees and mutter. “Im sorry, angel”

------------------------

1 year later

You step Out of your car hand in hand with your new boyfriend. Denki Kaminari. “You sure this is the right place babe?” Kami says looking up at the big church. You chuckle and look around to see the many cars and people in suites and dresses.

“There's bakugou right there, sparky.” You say pointing across the lot to where bakugou and midoriya stand, seemingly already arguing. “Why don't you go try and diffuse whatever is happening over there. We have a while before the wedding starts.” He gives one gruff note before giving you a quick peck on the lips and running to the pair.

Turns out kirishima had gotten the girl pregnant that he was cheating on you with and proposed to her with the same ring he used for you. At first you were heartbroken and torn up at the announcement, which had been three days after you ended things with him. Denki quickly swept in and helped you get back on your feet, he even offered you a place to stay for a while so you wouldn't need to couch hop.

About 7 months into being roommates there was an incident that happened to bring you two even closer.

--------------------------

FLASHBACK

“SHIT SHIT SHIT!” you hear kami yell from the kitchen. You run out of your room to see thick smoke pouring out of the oven and you immediately start laughing.

“What are you doing, you bozo?” now bent over weezing. Denki now has his hand on the back of his neck looking down with a blush. “Well, I was trying to make you dinner.” He says still not looking up at you. “You've been through a lot the past few months and have been working so hard. I just wanted to surprise you.”

You stand there shocked, heart skipping a beat as your cheeks flush with warmth too. You walk over to Denki and softly ruffle his hair. “Thank you kami. Let's get this cleaned up, yeah?”

He smiles widely and nods.

Halfway through cleaning up, you both are doing dishes.You washing, him rinsing. Suddenly you feel him staring at you. “What is it? Is there something on my face?” you beginn wiping your cheek on your shoulder before he giggles softly before shaking his head.

“You're beautiful.” You stop what you're doing and completely turn to face him. “What?” his eyes widened, realizing what he just said.

“I'm so sorry! I Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything! If you want me to finish-” you cut him off with a quick kiss. He stares at you with complete shock before leaning in and capturing your lips with his for a deeper kiss.

-------------------------------

PRESENT DAY

You look back towards the church doors, seeing mina you immediately start walking forwards.She notices you and gives a slight frown before welcoming you with open arms. “Hey girl, what are you doing here. Are you okay?” you give a small nod smiling softly

Honestly you've felt better than you have in a long time. You hadn't noticed how much you tip-toed around Kirishima in yalls relationship. You look over towards Denki and find him already looking at you smile getting wider than it was previously, he waves and you wave back. You look back towards mina. “Im okay.” and you mean it.

Sero comes out of the doors and gives you a small pitying smile. “Hey y/n. How are you?” you nod once. “Anyway, the ceremony is about to start.” he says, holding the door open wider before hollering for the three men across the parking lot.

Once inside you take your seat and Denki quickly finds his place next to you. Across the way from you, You see a baby. Maybe a couple of months old with dark hair and red, beady eyes. A pang rings in your chest. That must be it. Their baby. It's beautiful.

Denki catches you staring at the child and immediately takes your hand in his and squeezes.You give him a reassuring smile and then the ceremony starts.

Kirishima takes his place on the altar but you feel nothing towards him. His appearance doesn't bother you like you thought it would. And yours seemingly not bothering him. You smile. Good. We've both moved on. You look back towards Denki and give him a kiss on the cheek. They turn a bright shade of red and send a wink your way.

---------------------------

Kirishima's POV

As I'm standing on the altar waiting for my soon to be wife, all I can do is dred about how it's not you. I noticed when you first walked in but I couldn't bring myself to say anything to you. After all, you are with someone.= now, and happy. I on the other hand am not, but I only have myself to blame.

The music starts playing and the doors open. The bridesmaids and groomsmen start filing in one by one before it's finally the soon to be wife. Upon the sight of her I started crying. Instead they're not happy tears, but tears of dread and regret. As soon as she spots my crying face her own turns to smiles.

When she is fully situated next to me the priest begins. “Do you, kirishima Eijiro, take this woman to have and to hold, through sickness and in health?” No. “I do.”

“And do you -------, take this man to have and to hold, through sickness and in health.’’

“I do!” the woman says. “You may now kiss the bride.” I gulp and close my eyes as I lean in, picturing your face instead. The crowd immediately starts clapping and camera flashes start going.

--------------------------

As soon as they leave the altar, everyone stands and starts exiting to the main hall. Hand in hand with Denki you make your way over to the new married couple. “Congrats you two!” Denki practically yells. You laugh and stare at him in complete admiration.

Kirishima whirls around to find a giggling you and a very loud denki. You look so happy. So beautiful.

“Thanks , y/n. '' he shoots you a nod, even though you're barely paying attention to him. Too busy admiring your new boyfriend. You lock eyes with Kirishima and hold out your hand.

You give a quick smile before speaking. “To Ended stories, and New beginnings.”

#mha fanfiction #mha angst #mha x y/n #mha bakugou #mha midoriya #mha #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha kirishima #kirishima x you #kirishima x y/n #denki x y/n #denki kaminari #denki fanart #denki anon #tamaki fluff #mha fluff #bnha au #sero headcanons

[peakywitch]

Little Hands - Michael Gray

PART ONE

MASTERLIST

WORD COUNT: 2K

warnings: none (i think this one has angst?)

gif: @oberelias

A knock on the bar door caught Harry's attention. He immediately knew who it was. He opened the door, seeing the young woman from a half hour ago.

"Y/N?" he asked, not understanding anything. A girl of about 17 years, crying at the door of the Garrison. Harry thought he would never see such a thing.

"Sorry Harry, I had nowhere to go..." she sobbed; Harry invited her in and poured her a glass of water as she sat down at the bar.

“Are you better?" he asked her, after a few minutes.

The girl had been staring at the glass of water since Harry had offered it to her. The silent tears kept falling from her eyes. What will I do now? She would go home alone. She would forget about being a teacher and would have to dedicate herself to whatever she could, so her son would have something to eat.

Her son.

Y/N still didn't get it. She was seventeen, a minor, and her ex-boyfriend had just left her. She could not abort, she had found out too late.

"What the fuck am I going to do..." she whispered, asking Harry.

"You in trouble?" he asked, worried that she was hurt.

"Yes, in a giant problem." She replied, drinking more water.

“I think whatever it is, you can work it out. If you have people who want you by your side, you'll be fine." He said, as he rearranged the liquor bottles.

“The person I love doesn't want to be with me, Harry. He said horrible things to me and I…”The poor girl bursted into tears, Harry felt so out of place.

The man, not knowing what to do, approached the small kitchen that was at the back of the bar and took out some pieces of brownie that were carefully protected. When he returned to her side, he opened the noisy bag, filling the Garrison with a strong chocolate smell.

"You know?" he asked “My mother was a baker, and she made the best cakes in town. She made these brownies when I was sad or had a broken heart." He smiled wistfully; Y/N's red eyes focused on him “Last night, I felt a heavy sadness. And all I could think of was brownies." He placed the two brown squares on a gray plate. "I firmly believe, these brownies will heal you a bit." He held out the plate to the crying girl, she tried to grab one "Wait, not yet."

He reached under the bar, pulling out a glass bottle of milk: “There is a kitten that had a baby, and in the morning when I am leaving, I serve her some on a plate outside. But a broken heart deserves a sip to accompany brownies. "

She poured the milk into a pint, and told her she could eat now.

Between brownies, laughter, and some milk, she was able to stop crying and laughed at some stories Harry was telling her.

When night fell, Y/N stayed in one of the rooms upstairs. Harry had offered it to her for free, as Y/N had been very good company while he set up the pub for that Friday night. However, she insisted that she would return the favor by cleaning up on Saturday morning with him. Also, she wanted to see the kitten and her baby.

Ten o'clock at night showed up on the clock, telling Y/N that in two hours this hellish day would end. She was lying with her dress still on. The poor deluded woman had thought she would return home with… Michael. The more she thought about the subject, the more her heart ached.

“I won’t be with you, get rid of him. It would be easier. "

It was final: she would be a single mother.

Michael entered the pub at ten o'clock, tired, nervous, angry, sad, helpless, and heartbroken. He was disappointed in who he was. He had been infuriated by the fact that this new person that he was, had hurt Y/N. Michael could be called Henry, Benjamin, Patrick, or Mirtha. It didn't matter his name, he loved Y/N. So when he walked into the private booth at the Garrison alone, Tommy knew why. How was he going to find her, if she was as far as she was near?

"I thought I told you not to come back if it wasn't with her, Michael." said his cousin.

Gray sat down dejectedly in one of the chairs. He snorted and poured himself a whiskey.

“Looked everywhere. Shit, I even walked into that disgusting station with idiot Campbell. I looked in every square, on the outskirts, I asked in each hostel: nothing. I know her, she got on the train hours ago and she must be in her bed crying." His gaze was so lost on the beer bucket on the table, that he did not notice the knowing looks of his cousins.

“Tom,” said Arthur “go on. Tell ‘im. Look at ‘im.”

John slipped a chuckle.

"Tell me what?" Michael asked, looking at Thomas. "Tommy, if you know something, please tell me ..."

"Michael," tommy cleared his throat, "you well know that nothing happens here without me knowing."

"Here? Small Heath? As I said, I don't think…” the Shelby interrupted his cousin.

“No, here like the Garrison. And I think you forgot that if you go upstairs, you will find a lodging that I mount..."

Michael didn't let him finish, cutting him off as he stood up abruptly.

"You knew all this damn time where she was!?" he roared.

"I have known for a few hours." he answered calmly, after drinking more Scotch.

Before Michael could say anything, Tommy spoke again: "Third door to your right."

And just like that, Michael came out of the booth like a bullet. He crossed the bar quickly, no matter who he shoved in his way. The stairs were climbed even faster, leaving him in a matter of seconds in front of Y/N's door.

He breathed. He realized how nervous Y/N must have been. He knocked on the door with a simple double knock.

Both knocks woke her up, bringing her back into the world. She stopped and approached the door carefully. Meanwhile, Michael was dying of nerves.

"Who is it?" Y/N asked.

"Me." Michael said.

"Who is Me?" she ask.

Y/N recognized that voice, of course she did. But she didn't know who the person with the voice was. She felt totally alien to this Michael Gray. Henry would never, ever have yelled at her.

"Y/N... lovey, please..." he begged.

"Do not call me that way. You don't feel that about me. Neither do I, I don't know you. "

Y/N was being too harsh for her liking, but Michael knew perfectly well that he deserved never to see her again.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you. Please…”he asked, he was about to cry.

"No. Goodbye." She sentenced.

Michael sighed in frustration. He sat in the doorway; he would sleep on the floor if necessary.

Now what can I do? If he opened the door, it would bother her even more. But if he left her alone, he would lose her forever.

"Y/N..." began the boy, and waited for an answer, nothing.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" he asked again.

Silence.

"Well, here goes nothing." He sighed.

“Hello Y/N, my name is Michael Gray. I was born in 1903, and when I was four years old my father passed away. I was taken away from my mother, Polly, when I was five. I had a sister, they also separated us. The government changed my name to Henry. I was in an orphanage for about three years, until the Johnson, a very nice couple, adopted me. I grew up in the suburbs in a beautiful house with an apple tree in the garden. I met my first friend, she had your name, you know? "

Y/N was sitting on the other side of the door, listening to her favorite person speak. When she hear herself in the story, she smiled through tears.

“When she asked me to play family, I always pretended to propose to her. I never knew why. After a while I realized: the girls did not have germs. Then she started to seem like the prettiest girl, then the most beautiful young woman. I was in love with her for several years, I realized late. But one day..." Michael smiled wistfully" One day I plucked up the courage... a year ago and something, maybe. And I told her everything that happened to me with her. She kissed me and we started dating. She would come to my house after school. We would eat apples from the tree and study a little. And then we’d kiss a lot in the neighbor's barn at night. "

Y / N gave a little laugh, and that triggered Michael's pulse.

“Then I reconnected with my family, with the Shelbys. And I was so mad at the Johnsons for keeping my true story from me… they had told me, they’d abandoned me. When Tommy told me the truth, I was blinded by the pain of the lie and the thrill of finding my family. I did not realize that by meeting my old family, I would be abandoning one that was beginning to grow, you know?" They both wiped away tears.

“So, my girlfriend, she came to my homwtown angry, alone and pregnant. She was super, super angry and sad. And she told me everything, and I never felt worse. For having abandoned her, for seeing her cry about it and for abandoning her again when she told me she was pregnant. So..." he sighed "I am this, a simple stranger, who tells the story of his life, to the love of his life. Hoping that she forgives him. Because, you know, I know she knows I'm a bloody idiot. I mean, when we kissed for the first time, I accidentally bit her lip and left a small scar. "

They both laughed, listening to each other and wiping their tears.

“So…yeah. If you ever see her, tell her that for me, I know she doesn’t want to see me.” Michael said, with remarkable sadness.

Y/N wiped away her tears and gently pulled her hair. She stand up and knocked on the door three times. She then heard Michael stand up quickly.

"Who is this?" Michael asked.

"My name is Y/N, can I come into your life... again?" she asked, crying.

Michael's heart began to skip multiple beats and his smile spread across his face. He opened the door and saw his girlfriend standing, tired and crying. When their eyes connected, both bodies exploded into a loving embrace. They were both crying, they missed each other.

"I’m so sorry Y / N, so, so, so, sorry..." he stroked her hair.

"I love you, Michael Gray. But the next time you leave without saying goodbye, I will kill you with my bare hands. "

"Your hands are little, lovey, you can’t." She laughed, while Michael was filling her face with kisses.

"So, wait to see what a woman with little hands does to you at three in the morning when you don't want to take care of your baby."

Michael stopped the kisses and looked into her eyes.

"For a moment I had forgotten." Laughed Michael.

"Oh my God." Y/N joined in on her boyfriend's laughter.

#michael gray fanfiction #finn cole #michael gray #alfie solomons #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky fucking blinders #the peaky blinders #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fic #arthur shelby #arthur shelby imagine #john shelby #john shelby imagine #joe cole #finn shelby #finn shelby imagine #finn shelby x reader

[hanniiesuckle17]

Love > Shame

A/n: im hoping i got the request right! Hope you all enjoy! (this is not thoroughly edited srryyyyy) also like frick ^^this video his vlog is the most boyfriend thing ever

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: cussing, partial nudity

Requested by: @ann0325441904​

Tag List: @distrikt9​ @mini-meanhoe​ @poeticallyspaghetti​ @hanstagrams​ @desertofdessert​ @yangomangos​ @hoes4hoseok​

Summary: Sometimes timing isn’t the best. With tensions high at work for Jisung and your time of the month really kicking you in the ass, a fight breaks out between you and your boyfriend leaving you completely alone in a country far away from your old family and friends. Misunderstood problems turn to jealous and catty fights. Is there any way the two of you can come back together?

Genre: romance, angst, fluff

◈

Pain shot through my abdomen. It was like someone was sticking eight thousand needles into my stomach repeatedly for the sole purpose of fucking with me. Fuck womanhood. The pain meds I took earlier were doing nothing to help. This was putting me in a terrible mood. 

The sound of shower running floated from behind the closed door of the adjoining bathroom. My longtime boyfriend, Jisung, lay just beyond it. It was easily one o’clock in the morning, but I always waited up for Jisung to return home from practice. He had also come home in a rather sour mood. 

Deciding that the leggings I was wearing were far too constricting to sleep in with cramps, I got up and waddled my way over to our big closet. Jisung and I both had enough clothes each to fill an entire apartment so when we were apartment hunting, a big closet was a must. 

I threw the pants in the hamper and grabbed one of Jisung’s t-shirts from his side of the closet. The soft black fabric fell around my thighs. Why Jisung bought shirts four times than his actual size was still a mystery to me. The pressure on my stomach lessened but still remained. 

The door opened to reveal a shirtless Jisung emerging from the bathroom. A pair of gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, the fabric making a swishing sound as he walked. It was clear he was still upset. Jisung roughly towel dried his hair, rubbing the cloth over his dark locks. “You still upset, babe?” I asked looking over at him. It took all my willpower not to snap out the words. He shook his head and looked over at me with a pointed glance. “You wanna talk about it?” 

Again, Jisung shook his head. “Ji, it’s not healthy to keep this bottled up. I think you might feel better if you would talk about it.” An aggravated sigh left his lips and he laid back on the bed. 

“Y/n. I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.” 

It was hard to watch Jisung so upset. I walked over and laid next to him, trying to ignore the agonizing pain. My fingers traced random patterns against his stomach. The action usually calmed him down. However, he simply turned his head away from me tossing the towel somewhere else in the room. “Jisung, its not good to go to bed angry-”

“Babe, just leave me alone and stop being such a clingy bitch.”

I froze, hand hovering over his stomach. Silence hung heavy in the air. It seemed Jisung had no intention of taking back what he said. He didn’t even seem like he regretted it. “Excuse me?” I said sitting up in disbelief. 

I felt like screaming. Crying. Throwing everything in this room at Jisung’s little pimple head until it popped. “What?” He said rolling his eyes. Wet black hair hung in front of his vision. 

“Did you just....”

“Just get over it. I want to go to bed.”

“Get...over it?” I scoffed getting up from the bed. 

“Yes. You’re overreacting. Just get over it.” I shook my head in disbelief. This was not the Jisung that I knew. This was not the Jisung I was in love with. The boy who ran in the rain with me just to capture the perfect kiss on our first date. The boy who sent me love notes every day for two months until I agreed to go out with him. The one who stayed with me when my aunt died and I was too heartbroken to leave the bedroom since I couldn’t fly home for the funeral. The one who never went to sleep until he told me how much he loved me whether I was awake to hear it or not. 

“Look I get you’ve had a shitty day. But I’m not just someone you can push around Jisung. You know that.”

He sat up, clearly annoyed. “I’m not pushing you around!”

“You called me a bitch!”

“Well, you’re kind of acting like one!”

“Well, you’re kind of acting like an asshole.” Jisung rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the bed. Anger started to bubble up in my chest. “What the fuck, Ji?” 

“Look- I don’t owe you anything okay! All I wanted to do was come home and get to sleep. I don’t want to deal with all your nagging.” 

“Jisung I care about you. I love you! I’m just trying to help.”

Nothing seemed to make it better. Eventually, I stopped trying to be the good guy. I stopped trying to keep my voice quiet. If he was going to yell at me, then I would yell back. He couldn’t just walk all over me. My emotions broke loose along with the rest of hell. 

“I WORK ALL DAY! ALL YOU DO IS SIT ON YOUR ASS AT HOME ON YOUR COMPUTER. I’M TRYING TO PROVIDE FOR THE TWO OF US Y/N!” 

“SIT ON MY ASS? I’M TRYING TO GRADUATE JISUNG!”

“Listen I can’t deal with you anymore.” He said turning his back on me and looking out the window. The muscles in his back were tight and tense. “Just fuck off, Y/n.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. The pain in my stomach was just making me even angrier. “That’s it. Get out.” Jisung turned around in shock. He started stuttering and trying to form a coherent sentence. “You heard what I said. Out.” My finger pointed to the door furthering my stance on the situation.

“Y/n-”

“Get out, Jisung! Go sleep at the dorms.”

He started gathering his things, tugging on a random hoodie and slipping on some socks from the dresser. “This is is exactly what I was talking about.” He mumbled. Jisung stood up, clearly pissed off. He started towards the bedroom door but stopped and turned back until he was standing right in front of me. His wet hair was covered by a beanie, pushing it all in front of his eyes. “You know what, Y/n? Call me when you decide to stop being such a heartless bitch.” 

My hand flew across his cheek before I could even think. What surprised me...what hurt me....was that I didn’t regret it. Jisung stood in front of me, shocked, his eyes looked hurt. His doe eyes which I loved so much always told me what he was thinking. But, as they stared back at me, I didn’t recognize them. 

“I hate you...”

He sighed seeing a tear leak onto my cheek. His long fingers wrapped around my wrist, but I pulled away before he could get to close. His cheek was starting to turn red from when I hit him. “No...you don’t.” I looked away not wanting him to see me cry. Of course, he knew I was lying. There was nothing he didn’t know about me.

“I should....I should hate you...” He made no effort to reach out to me again. In all honesty, I didn’t know if I wanted him to right now. I wanted to push him away, but I also want him to hold me until everything was okay again. “Just go.”

After a moment, he nodded and I followed him to the front door. He picked up his keys and walked out into the hall, leaving me standing in the doorway. He turned back to me, like he was going to say something else, but stopped when he looked into my eyes. 

“Don’t call me,” I said, the last tear falling down my cheek as I shut the door.

◈

Two weeks had passed. It looked like Jisung and I were on a break. Whether it was temporary or for good I didn’t know. My hand brushed over Jisung’s side of the bed. The sheets were cold. They were never cold. Sunlight streamed in through the large glass window in our bedroom. Well...it wasn’t really ‘ours’ anymore. I sat up waiting for arms to pull me back down under the covers. Arms that never reached out. 

Mornings like these were usually spent in Jisung’s arms staring out at the skyline trying to convince him that he did indeed have to go to work. Lazy kisses, sleepy whispers even though no one else was in the room but us. There were no calls. No texts. Not even a fucking post on Instagram. Nothing. 

All my friends were back home. I was alone in Seoul. No one but Jisung. There was a knock at the front door. Dragging myself out of the queen size bed, my feet trudged over the wood floor in the apartment. I looked through the peephole only to find a huge stuffed bear looking back at me. 

“The fuck...” I mumbled. My fingers switched open the locks and opened the door. The teddy bear moved aside to reveal a face that made me burst into tears. “DANNY!” I screamed wrapping my arms around him.  

Daniel had been my friend practically since birth. We grew up next door to each other. Our parents even bathed us together. Daniel hugged me tight spinning me around in the hallway. It felt so good to see him again.

I would not have made it through high school in my home country if Danny hadn’t been with me. I had missed him so much. As most old friends did, we had dated for about six months in senior year but decided we were better off as we were before. Daniel was a sight for sore eyes.

“How are you here?” I asked cupping his face.

He smiled down at me. Even though he hadn’t had a growth spurt since the ninth grade it seemed he had sprouted another five inches. “I’ve been planning to surprise you! With finals coming up I knew you’d be busy, so I came down so we could party beforehand.” He ruffled my hair and moved past me into the apartment. “So, where is he? I want to meet the man officially!” 

Daniel looked around the quiet apartment before turning back to me expectantly. Jisung. He was looking for Jisung. Just the thought of him made me sad. Danny’s smile fell seeing my expression. “Y/n, what’s wrong?” He brought me further into the apartment and closed the door. “Did I say something?” 

I shook my head and ran a hand through my hair. “Do you want some tea?” Looking for anything to distract me I moved to the kitchen and put a kettle on the stove. Before I could turn the switch, a hand came over mine.

“Y/n, did something happen with you and Jisung?” 

He sighed watching me nod. The silence only lasted a moment before Daniel pulled me into another warm hug. The feeling of his arms around me was comforting, but not fulfilling. There was something missing about the way he hugged me. 

My hair. Every time Jisung hugged me, one of his hands would always hold my head to his chest. His fingers would stroke my hair, lingering at the base of my neck. It was a small thing. A very Jisung thing. But, a small thing I missed none the less. I felt empty without his fingers threading through my hair.

“You know what we should do?” I hummed in response as he pulled away, keeping his hands on my shoulders. “Let’s go drinking!” Daniel was always dragging me on wild adventures. He could never sit still. That’s probably why we never worked out. While I loved a good adventure, sometimes I wanted to just sit with a good book, or just lie in bed listening to the rain. 

“Fine. But, you’re paying.” He cheered and rushed off to go change and I found myself doing the same. Hopefully, I could get Jisung off of my mind.

◈

My eyes looked across the room from over the rim of a martini glass. The heels of my shoes lay firmly hooked over the bottom of the bar stool. “What happened anyway?” Daniel said over the thumping music. He sat next to me at the bar of the nightclub we were in, taking a swig from an overpriced bottle of beer. 

A sigh floated past my lips. My fingers traced the base of the elegant glass. “We got into a stupid fight. I regret almost everything. If I wasn’t on my fucking period I probably wouldn’t have acted so rashly. It wasn’t all my fault though. He’s the one who called me a ‘heartless bitch’.” Daniel spit out the beer he was currently drinking. 

“He what?!” 

“He was just angry.”

“That’s no excuse.” 

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “If it helps I did slap him.” Daniel let loose a little smile and took another sip from his drink. “He had a really bad day. He wouldn’t talk to me. I was just trying to help.” I watched Daniel’s brows furrow. The base of his beer bottle was rolling around the bar top as he thought. 

“Do you remember in sophomore year, I had just gotten into a massive fight with my parent about school and I wouldn’t tell you anything about it.”

“Yeah. It pissed me off. You clearly needed to vent. You ended up punching Marty Finch in anger the next day.” 

Daniel laughed before turning towards me again, eyes serious. “Well, I was too ashamed to talk to you about it. Then, I mean. You were always much better than me in school. I didn’t want you to think less of me because I was having so much trouble with something so simple.” I stared into the clear liquid in my glass. “What I’m saying is...he may have felt like you would have seen him as less of a man if he told you how he was feeling at the time.” 

Daniel reached over and took my hand in his, laying it on the bartop. “He still didn’t have to call me a bitch though,” I said with a sad smile on my lips. 

“Yeah, no. That was a fucking asshole move.” My friend glanced down at my now empty drink. “Another gin martini, dry.” He said to the bartender, who removed my empty glass. Daniel scanned my face. It was hard to hide the depressing way I was feeling. “You really miss him don’t you?”

I nodded, looking away from him and out into the club. “I really do. Danny, I miss him so fucking mu-” I froze. I must be imagining things. My eyes must be lying to me because there was no way I was looking at Jisung sitting on the other side of the club. His arm was draped around a girl with dyed hair. Her hand was squeezing his thigh as he whispered something in his ear. His eyes met mine.

There was a flash of something. Sadness? Guilt? Longing? But, it disappeared before I could question it. Daniel followed my gaze, tapping his finger against the back of my hand. “What’s up? Who is that?” Anger started to boil in the pit of my stomach. Maybe not anger. Anger wasn’t a good word. It hurt more than it made me angry. Jealousy. Jealousy is what was eating away at my insides as his hand played with her hair. 

Danny looked over at the man who used to be mine with a curious gaze. “Jisung,” I whispered, turning back and downing the new martini in one gulp. The alcohol burned the back of my throat distracting me from the stabbing pain in my heart. 

Daniel started to get up, fury in his eyes burning like white hot flames. My hand stopped him from doing something he would later probably not regret at all. “Y/n- are you kidding right now? I’m gonna kill him!”

“Danny, stop. Let’s just go.” 

I took his hand in mine and dragged him away from the bar. The air around me felt heavy. Like I was up on a mountain. Pushing away the pain in my chest I dragged my friend away from the club, not feeling the pair of doe eyes on my back. 

◈

The drone of the television played through the apartment. It was raining outside. It had been raining since the night of the club about four days ago. Daniel sat on my couch, my legs across his lap. A half empty bottle of wine sat on the coffee table and a fully drained one lay next to it. Much alcohol had been consumed in the past few days between the two of us. Daniel; to make me feel better. Me; to forget about the hurt I felt in my chest. 

A light buzz was hovering in my brain as I took another sip from my wine glass. “I know that now is probably not the time,” Daniel said, changing topics. “But, I had a question to ask you about Marin.” 

Marin was Daniel’s girlfriend. She was quite possibly the sweetest person I had ever met. Daniel was lucky to have her. “Oh no. What did you do? You didn’t run here to escape from your fuck up did you? Danny, she’ll kill me! I like being alive!” He laughed patting my leg a few times.

“No. Don’t worry. I wanted your advice.” 

“Hit me with it, baby,” I said drinking the rest of my glass dry. 

Daniel set the glass on the table, turning to me. “Is two and a half years too soon?” I pouted my lips and looked out the window. The view was still immaculate without Jisung next to me. It just felt...lonely even with Danny here. 

“Too soon for what?”

He sighed, that familiar cheeky grin popping onto his cheeks. “I want to ask Marin to marry me.” 

“GET OUT OF TOWN!” I screamed. He laughed when I started squealing. My hands slapped at his shoulder. My little Danny was going to get married. 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I came to Seoul to ask for your advice. And also to ask if you’ll be my ‘best man’ of sorts.” 

“Are you kidding? Of course, I will!” I jumped up from the couch and poured us both more wine. “Have you asked her dad?” He nodded taking a sip of the sweet alcohol. 

“So you think I should do it?”

“Fuck yeah, I think you should do it!” I stared at Daniel with a smile on my face. I could remember when he had gotten his long-legged ass stuck in a baby swing at the park for three hours before we had to find a pair of bolt cutters and run off with the swing. “I cannot believe you are getting married! My little Danny!”  I said leaning over and wrapping my arms around his neck, carefully making sure not to spill my wine. 

The sound of the front door opening had me pulling away from my friend. My eyes widened as Jisung stepped through the door, keys in hand. His stare moved from me to Daniel then zeroed in on my hand still on his neck. 

“Jisung-” I shot up on my feet setting the wine on the table. 

He scoffed closing the door, shoving the keys in his back pocket. “Don’t let me interrupt your date. I just came to get some things.” Jisung’s voice sounded like music to my ears despite its cold tone. He wore a pair of old ripped pair of black jeans I hadn’t seen since we started dating and a baggy white shirt. His usual noir beanie covering his dark hair. 

Daniel awkwardly tapped on his wine glass and watched as Jisung traveled into the bedroom. He looked and me before nudging his head towards the door. I mouthed a few choice words to him which resulted in a silent argument. 

“One of us is going to go in there, and if I do he’s walking out with a black eye and some missing teeth.”

“Oh please. You know he could kick your ass with his hands tied behind his back,” I whispered. 

“Why can’t you date less athletic people? I’d like to be able to defend your honor.” He started pushing me towards the bedroom with his foot. He groaned when I resisted. “Y/n, it’s obvious you're miserable without him and he doesn’t look too happy either.”

Taking a long deep breath, I turned towards the open doorway. My whole body went numb as I took the short steps into the room. Jisung stood at our closet, a bag open on the bed. His head turned hearing the door close behind me. 

“Don’t worry. I’m just getting some clothes. I didn’t think you’d be here.” He tossed a hoodie into the bag, not meeting my eyes. I watched him pack for a moment. He clearly felt uncomfortable under my stare. “I’m going to be out of your hair soon. You don’t have to watch me like a hawk.”

“Don’t leave,” 

His movements stopped, his back away from me towards the closet. An almost perfect replication of the night he left. His fingers twitched as if he was debating putting back the shirt in his hands. 

“I’m a little tipsy, but I’m sober enough to know that if you walk out that door....I’m going to lose you forever.” 

My eyes searched for any sign for me to continue, but his face stayed hidden from me. Jisung dropped his head but stayed silent. I watched his fingers tighten over the fabric in his hand. 

My hand reached out, afraid to touch him, but longing to feel him again. His head turned feeling the brush of my palm on his arm. “Jisung,” He sighed hearing his name. “Please don’t leave.”

Jisung turned around, looking down at me. “I saw you.” He whispered. I saw tears pricking at the edge of his eyes. “I saw you. At the club. You were with the guy in there. I saw you walk in together.” He searched my eyes for something I did not know. 

“So did I; I saw the girl.” He sighed, head falling into his hands. “Did you-...God I can’t even say it.” He winced when I tried to laugh through the awkwardness. “If you did-...we were technically on a break so... I have no right to be mad at you.”

“Even if I did, I would feel terrible if you weren’t.” 

Jisung looked at me with sincerity. “You didn’t sleep with her?” He shook his head, staring down at me. Just one look into his big doe eyes told me he was telling the truth. 

“She kissed me after you left, but I stopped her.” I couldn’t help the smile slipping onto my face. Jisung nodded towards the door before speaking again. “Is that your new boyfriend?” 

“Danny? Hell no. He’s my best friend from back home. He came to visit.” 

“Oh, thank God,” Jisung said in one breath. His hands reached for my cheeks smashing his lips against mine. My fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt tugging him closer to me. Jisung kissed me as if he was afraid I would disappear the moment he let go of me. His lips danced against mine, desperate to be with me again. I pulled away resting my forehead against his.

“Well...I mean technically...we dated in senior year, but that was a long time ago.” 

He nodded, fingers threading through my hair as his lips returned to mine. I was just as hungry for him as he was for me. He smiled feeling me push him backward, without breaking our kiss. He laughed quietly when I moved him into the open closet instead of a wall. Jisung straightened himself up before taking control and pinning me up against the doorframe. 

“Wait,” He said breaking the kiss, smiling as I chased after his lips. “Didn’t you say you lost your virginity your senior year.” He asked looking into my eyes, brows furrowed.

“Umm...shhhh. This is about us, yeah?” 

Before he could say anything else about Daniel, I kissed him again tugging off his beanie and running my fingers through his soft locks. He broke away and nuzzled his face in my neck, arms wrapped tightly around my waist. “I’m so sorry, baby. I was a total ass. I should never have said those things.” 

“No, I’m sorry. I regret everything that happened. My emotions were all wack because of my period.”

“Well...I did deserve that slap.” 

“Maybe a little.”

“Hey!” He laughed, letting me know he wasn’t really offended. My thumb brushed over his cheek as I looked up into his eyes. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I was too ashamed about what had happened that day to talk about it and I took it out on you. Can you forgive me?”

Leaning up, I kissed him gently savoring every moment. “Jisung, I love you. You never have to be ashamed to tell me anything. I love you unconditionally. Even when you leave coffee mugs all over the house. Even when you forget to pick up groceries when I ask you eight times in an hour.” He laughed resting his forehead against mine. “My love for you is greater than any mistake you could make or problem you have.”

“You are so cheesy.”

“You love it.” 

“I love you,” 

Jisung tilted his head, leaning down for another kiss. This one was slower, more careful. A knock on the door pulled us apart. Danny stood in the entryway, drinking from his wine glass. “So I’m assuming you will need a plus one on the wedding invite?” He said with a smile. 

“Jisung?” He closed his eyes and smiled hearing his name from my lips. “Would you go to a wedding with me?” He nodded, kissing me on the cheek. 

“Would love to, baby.” 

Daniel walked over and reached over to shake Jisung’s hand. “Nice to finally meet you,” He said with his goofy, lopsided grin. Jisung warily looked him up and down but smiled and shook his hand. “You want to be a groomsman?”

“Depends. Did you fuck the love of my life when you were eighteen?”

“JISUNG!”

“WHAT?”

◈

Requests are open my lovelies! Just send an ask!

Masterlist

#stray kids imagines #stray kids #kpop imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids preferences #han jisung imagines #han jisung imagine #han jisung smut #han jisung oneshot #han jisung au imagines #han jisung #han imagines #jisung imagines #han jisung fluff #han jisung angst #stray kids masterlist #stray kids angst #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fake texts #stray kids au imagine #stray kids au imagines #stray kids college au #stray kids incorrect quotes #stray kids smau #stray kids social media au #stray kids soulmate au #rubber ducky you're the one

[azucanela]

Can i please have a headcanons for Keigo and Shinsou with a female s/o that really likes manga and anime but keeps it a secret from others because they talk shit and make fun of her? and like one day they accidently find out and she's kinda embarressed about it but they convince her that everything is fine and they think ist cute how happy they are when they talk about something she loves? Uwu :9 (sorry for my bad english)

secret anime and manga fan s/o headcannons  [ft. keigo takami, shinsou hitoshi]

SUMMARY: Y/N has been hiding the fact that she likes anime and manga from her lovely boyfriend for a while now, fearing he’d find it weird. now, she has no choice but to address the fact that he knows. 

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

WARNINGS: threats

A/N: your english is great bb! uwu owo this was relatable askdakjhds if anyone tells you there is something wrong with watching anime or reading manga, let me tell you that they are WRONG. i will fight them for you<3

KEIGO TAKAMI | PRO HERO HAWKS

you used to talk about animes you liked because at the end of the day they are tv shows thats it, same with mangas, they are like books but cooler lol

but people found that “weird” for some reason, because anime is a “cartoon” and thats so gross omg haha these “cartoons” make me sob um watch a silent voice and cry with me kids

anyways

you’re watching anime in the comfort of your home, just vibing. no one is coming over today, you have time to yourself to enjoy your lil show that nobody should be judging you for

well, you thought no one was coming over

keigo has a tendency to just like, show up at your house sometimes when hes bored or in the midst of an uneventful patrol. though he rarely is seen in public, especially on the streets, he does fly-bys constantly

anyways, he was bored, or just relieved of duty for whatever reason, like lunch. he is having chicken nuggets, he is a cannibal, be ashamed H A W K S, smh

anyways, he just shows up at your house, like he lowkey breaks in through the balcony of your apartment, but its fine because you leave it open for him, but normally he texts you to let you know he’s coming but today was the exception because he’s adorable and wanted to surprise!!! you!!! with!!! food!!!

so he comes in, and he sees you are on your couch, just watching your lil anime, and you are SO INTO IT MAN like you are lowkey yelling at the TV whenever a character does something, and when that one character you hate comes on you’re like throwing hands with nothing

keigo is internally screaming because why are you so CUTE

he kinda forgets for a second that you don’t know he’s there, he has no idea what’s going on in this show, and he’s still holding chicken nuggets and fries

this is why he just kinda screams at a character who does something stupid, that totally could’ve been avoided, effectively startling you

now you are both screaming for separate reasons as you turn around to look at him, and now you are panicking because oh no, he KNOWS 

his wings are fluttering and he feels bad for scaring you as he comes up to wrap his arms around your shoulders, “sorry baby! but that guy is so dumb.”

you are MORTIFIED and now you’re like, “oh my god, you must think im so weird-”

keigo is confused, why would he think that? he genuinely doesn’t realize that people make fun of you for watching anime and he’s so confused by it when you inform him that a lot of people tend to find it weird 

“what?”

“people think its weird so i just-” hahahhasdha keigo lowkey wants to take time out of his day in his professional agency to find out who told you it was weird and made you think you had to hide this from him because he wants to know everything about you! you are the love of his life! you shouldn’t feel the need to hide things!

now he feels like maybe he did something to make you think you had to hide your love for anime even though it is literally adorable to watch you

“baby, it’s not weird. i actually think its cute how angry you get at the characters. and i AGREE like how could he just do that-”

“wait you don’t care...?” you are BLUSHING because he thinks you are CUTE not that you didn’t know this already since he was dating you but like

omg

“of course not, also would you mind restarting this anime, im kind of invested- oh and i brought chicken nuggets”

you lowkey wanna cry he’s so cute

he can tell you don’t believe him so he sets the food down on a coffee table and takes your face in his hands and is all like, “baby. i promise you its fine. and adorable. now let’s restart this show so i can watch with you.”

he winks at you and now you’re like, “whatever no i am NOT restarting.”

then he gets all pouty but its fine he doesn’t need to understand the plot to watch with you and enjoy every moment, he also likes when you explain it really excitedly with all these hand movements, and he especially enjoys when you get mad at characters

he finds it hot 

hates when you have a crush on a character he gets so jealous and is not afraid to show it kjahsdahsdsh mans will start hating the character just because you keep talking about how hot they are

“they’re just so BEAUTIFUL.”

keigo, self consciously touching his winds, “im beautiful too...”

he’s so cute

throws popcorn at the screen whenever that character comes on

SHINSOU HITOSHI

hahjsdgjasgdj

THIS BOY is so pretty

anyways you probably fell asleep reading manga, or watching anime or something like that, so it’s like 1AM and you were BINGING because that stuff is great and nobody is there to bother you while you read and watch and stuff its you time

and for some reason people have been opposed to this in the past? so now whenever people come to your room your manga are all like lowkey hidden and you make sure there is no evidence of anima

you did NOT want shinsou finding out and thinking you were weird or anything like that, even though liking anime and manga is NOT weird!!!

if anyone tells you other lmk and i will have strong words with them

so you fell asleep and shinsou comes over because he realizes he forgot something in your room, and like the GENTLEMAN he is, he knocks, but you are asleep and do not hear him!

he’s like eh worst case scenario she’s cheating on me and i end up heartbroken, and this is something he genuinely considers sometimes and he would definitely blame himself if he got cheated on

so he sees you sleeping and you are like a mess because you did not intend to fall asleep, so you’re like in your desk chair, the manga is wide open on your desk or your computer is on and there’s the still going anime aksjdhkjdhas

your neck is in a weird funky way that’ll probably hurt in the morning and shinsou is like oh no i gotta move her i dont want her in pain, he is also wondering why you look so cute because what the hell this is unfair stop it

tbh he probably barely notices the manga, like he’ll just nonchalantly close it and place it on your bedside table because reading manga isn’t weird before coming back to you, in the chair, and like picking you up to put you in bed

now you AWAKEN AND YOU ARE A L E R T because it hits you pretty fast that shinsou is here, this is NOT a dream, he probably saw your manga/anime, and now hates you and is carrying you to your death

this is all false

in the midst of your panic, you knock the both of you down onto the ground, and he’s feels so bad for allowing the two of you to fall nkjasdjakn poor bb

“Y/N im so sorry-”

“hitoshi why are you apologizing?”

he just ignores that and he comes over to you on the floor but your gaze is on the closed computer on your desk or the manga that was placed on your bedside table that you DEFINITELY DID NOT PUT THERE

he saw, he definitely saw, and now you are babbling about how weird he must think you are because of those JERKS who made you think anime and manga are weird

“what are you talking about?”

“well, people always told me how weird it was and sometimes they would... say things”

shinsou quickly realizes you were bullied because you liked manga and anime and stuff like that and now he is contemplating murder <3 what a lovely boyfriend

as someone who has experience with bullying himself, he finds this especially stupid, its literally just a show and book, and kinda wants to ask you the names of the people who told you these things so he can hunt them d o w n

instead shinsou prioritizes you and your insecurities first, “babe... no. its just anime? there’s no problem with watching it. whoever told you that was just a jerk.” jk he uses more colorful vocabulary

shinsou is completely ready to spend the next hour convincing you that there is nothing to worry about because there really isn’t 

“so you don’t think its weird?” his heart almost breaks when he hears your voice and he just nods and gives you a lil smile

“not at all... actually i was wondering what was so interesting that you stayed up until” he’s looking at the time, “2AM.”

now you’re blushing but you still launch into an explanation of the entire anime and honestly anime/manga plots are so extensive and cool and well done and that just makes them so fun and complicated to explain

shinsou is trying his hardest to understand but you are very cute as you explain using lots of vivid hand gestures and adorable faces and wow he’s been distracted

will try his hardest to understand so that you can talk with him about it more often, genuinely finds it great watching you tell him about something you enjoy so much and hates that you felt the need to keep it a secret

he wonders how many times you hid away the manga or anime when he came over and feels like an inconvenience 

anyways he really really really likes you so now he just listens as you rant about how cute certain characters are and lowkey gets jealous

“WHY IS HE SO HOT.”

“he’s not... that hot.” grumbling and stuff as he plays with the edge of his sleeve and borderline glares at the screen.

A/N: i hope this wasn’t bad akshfjakshdkjh 

#shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinso hitoshi x reader #shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #hitoshi x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo headcannons #shinsou headcannons #shinso headcannons #hawks x reader #hawks x you #shinsou x you #keigo x you #shinso x you

[shyrose57]

2nd part.

Other: Both groups understand they have different ways of showing affection and closeness. Though Charles does hesitantly ask Jackie if Ran ever shows affection, to which Jackie answers that he does he just isn't a very physical person. 

After Ran first attacks and injuries Ranbob, and once the groups get the two separate, they sit down and talk. The Gladiators go first, saying they've never seen Ran that aggressive and angry before and ask what Ranbob could've done. To which the Fishermen tell them (to an extent. Somethings they leave out as its best for Ranbob to tell them) and after sharing, ask what Ran's relationship with Ranbob was. Where Watson says Ran said before he had a brother, and they then connect the pieces. So in summary, the Gladiators know about Ranbob being controlled by Dream, what Ranbob as done, how it affected him, and what the Fishermen have done to help him out and the progress Ranbob has made. While the Fishermen know that Ran has said he had a brother (Ranbob said it too), Ran having to survive on his own for years, And Ran having nightmare's but don't know what they are about. 

The Gladiators are skeptical of Ranbobs story, but after reading a bit of a dairy Ranbob recorded the experience in when able to, and both picture and multiple eye-witness accounts they eventually believe him. 

He ran from the hunters for around 4 years, he also lived alone and learned to survive during his time, while being constantly on the move. Multiple times the brothers have said something concerning, either jokingly or very casually, but both ways the brothers groups have responded with utmost concern and basically interrogating them until they find out the events behind what they said. Where they then either leave it be, or there's more talking, comforting, and maybe even cuddle piles. 

It happens once during the trip, when Ranbob just isnt having a good day at all, when he relapses he immediately tells the Fishermen (as he has grown to do), who then go to comfort him and do a sort of therapy. Ran immediately uses the relapse as evidence that he shouldn't be trusted and that he is still the same person he was before. While Watson, ignoring him, goes to see if he can do anything to help, while Grievous and Jackie try to lead Ran away to cause less stress for Ranbob. 

It is confusing at first for them, and when their finally able to, they (both groups) ask eachother what different instincts their enderman friend has. And after exchanging it they just kinda leave it be then and accept it. Sometimes Cletus will laugh when he just randomly sees Ran carrying someone around and mocks them, but Ran tends to growl at him when he mocks the person he's carrying, so he doesn't mock em often. 

He was only able to eat crackers, nuts and seeds, and dried out vegetables. So when he first goes to the Fishermen's house he's only able to keep down stuff like soup and again crackers. Though he's able to slowly work his way up to eating meat, which then he's able to keep most things down. 

The gladiators are overwhelmingly happy about no longer following such a strict schedule and can spend their time doing whatever they want. The fishermen are at first a bit hesitant at adventuring, seeing as they never really adventured outside of their home to much before, but are still very excited to see new places and get new items. Cuddle piles are sometimes shared amongst the groups, but strictly when neither of the brothers are nearby, other habits like telling bed time stories and sharing supplies and food are shared amongst the groups. While a sort of therapy sessions type habit are only in the fishermen group. And making and testing weapons are only in the gladiator group. For nicknames, Ran- Tall man/Tall bastard, Jackie- Jack, Shorty(teasingly/jokingly), Watson- Dad, Grievous- Ugly, John, Gri, Ranbob- Bobby, Benjamin- Benny, Ben, Charles- (Just Charles), Cletus- Wildfire, Little shit (Isaac only calls him that, Benjamin doesn't like it though), Isaac- Saac (pronounced as Isaac without the I, or just Zack).

The fishermen live a calmer, more quite life. Where the most active they've gotten is going to Mizu and getting Ranbob and a few attempted robbing. While the gladiators live a very active and fighting filled life, with only a few breaks where they can do whatever they want too. The fishermen are more accepting of outsiders and willing to give them a chance in their group. While the gladiators, you need to prove you can earn a place and are more tight in their group (Which is partly why it means so much to Ran and shocks him when his haunting welcomes Ranbobs group into their group). The fishermen are more freewilled, not having to follow a schedule. While the gladiators do follow a schedule and typically don't get much freewill.

They originally wanted to live in Mizu. But after the discovery of the Dream Mask Benjamin stated that it was far too dangerous to stay, much less live there. So they instead just went and looted the area then left 

As of now I do not plan to add anymore characters. Maybe they'll meet some while traveling but im not positive yet, if they do meet someone later on though it'll probably be either Wilburs decendent, or if I include other Tales I'll include them probably. 

It is very hard to convince Ran for a good while that what happened to Ranbob was the truth, but when he does finally accept it he's horrified. He feels incredibly guilty about leaving his brother and doing nothing during this whole time other than making it harder for him to recover. And immediately does what he can to make it up and help him out. And to the relief of the others, the brothers start to grow closer again, although there's still some problems. It took multiple tales of Mizu and Dream from all around the world, some very old records about how manipulative Dream was and how it seemed he had supernatural powers, and even finding Ranbobs journal and deciding to read it for safety reasons (where its recorded Ranbobs deteriorating mental state and all of the events where Dream came in, and even Dream wrote in it sometimes, comparing it to Ranboos Memory Book.)

Personalities (More may be added later): Ran- Secretive, protective, quite, joking when gotten close too, patient, serious mostly. Watson- Kind, very approachable, the father figure, logical, has a very comforting presence. Jackie- Playful, joking, mean at times, teasing, loud, energetic. Grievous- Very kind, energetic at times, quite, prankster, hard to trust someone. Ranbob- Quite, shy, well-meaning, clumsy, hesitant in things, very eager to please someone. Benjamin- Truthworthy, comforting presence, kind, approachable. Cletus- Chaotic, mean at times, prankster, loud, confident, energetic. Isaac- Leader figure, kind, logical, playful. Charles- Quite, shy, anxious, smart, logical. And idk if you want him too but Porkius- Confident, arrogant, hard headed/stubborn, hard to talk with, but extremely willing to make changes and call off events if serious injury to anyone is threatened. 

Sorry if some answers are dull, I had trouble coming up with answers and wording some of them. But as a bonus I thought of something that could happen while traveling (while they've been traveling for almost 5 months now). Maybe a thunderstorm is coming in and the group is trying to find shelter and they find it mostly in time, but the brothers start to really get into a verbal fight during the searching and so start to lag behind. And just as it starts to storm more Ran screams and yells "YOUR NOTHING MORE THAN AN MURDER! NOTHING YOU EVER DO WILL MAKE UP FOR ALL YOU'VE DONE!"(or something similar) Which just really breaks Ranbob, and the two stand across from eachother in the rain, before Ranbob chokes out a heartbroken agreement and runs off. Ran almost going to chase after him, but deciding not too, and going to meet up with the group.  Also Ranbob having a nightmare about when he first saw Ran again and is terrified in the nightmare, as no one is there to actually stop Ran this time (this happens before the thunderstorm part). So he does actually begin to kill him, and during the dream he keeps seeing glimpses of he and Ran as kids, being so close and laughing and everything. Then just before he wakes up he sees a younger, tween Ran directly next to the Ran killing him, and the Vision Ran's face is frozen in a scream of terror and heartbroken look in his eyes, and his eyes are filled to the brim of tears (which is the exact moment a Ranbob controlled by Dream turns the blade on Ran suddenly). Which just completely breaks Ranbobs heart, and when he wakes up, with tears frozen on his face, he can't look at Ran for days without seeing the terrified face of his younger brother. 

1: So they’re pretty chill about it. Alright. 

2: Fairly skeptical, but still willing to help out, and eventually coming to agree. Interesting. Ranbob has a diary? From before? That must be quite the interesting read. How much did young Ranbob understand was going on? How did he feel about it? Just how much does his diary show of his mental decline? Does he still have it? Were the Gladiators supposed to be reading it, or is it more of a ‘I found this, let’s see what’s inside’ thing? And I know the eye-witness accounts are probably the fishermen, but what are the pictures? Of Ranbob before Dream, back in Mizu? Of Ranbob when the fishermen found him?

3: Casually drops trauma on them, huh? What kind of things have been said? How much of it do these two traumatized gremlins think is the norm? Does Ran have any particular enemies with the hunters? Was it hard for him to settle in one place again?

4: What do these relapse consist of, exactly? Ranbob becoming aggressive? Trying to run? Can’t imagine Ran’s too happy Watson ignored him about it. What was the aftermath of this event? Does Ran know what a relapse means, or does he just overhear and assume?

5: So Ran totes people around, and Cletus occasionally makes fun of them. How long before someone points out that Ranbob, as you put it, follows them around like a lost puppy, in retaliation? 

6: The more I hear about Ranbob, the more I kind of want to wrap him in a warm blanket, give him cocoa, and go threaten Dream with bodily harm. That kind of food isn’t exactly great nourishment. If that’s the kind of thing he was eating, and only once every three days, I’m not shocked the Fishermen managed to force him into a room. Or that his house kept falling on him. Poor guy must be a malnourished noodle-stick. Honestly, he sounds light enough Cletus could probably carry him around. Or a breeze could. Hopefully he gets a little more weight on him, he needs it. 

7: Sounds like the first few days of the trip are probably pretty chaotic, with everyone adjusting. But they sound like they’re having fun, so that’s good. What kind of things are the two brothers doing to be gone long enough for their groups to be able to cuddle pile for a bit? Gathering supplies? Do they just know, and do their own thing for a bit so their hauntings can chill together? And Bobby, huh? Sounds an awful lot like what Ran used to call Ranbob. Who exactly revived the nickname, and what was both Ranbob’s reaction to it being brought back, and Ran’s reactions to hearing it again? 

8: The clash between lifestyles seems to be a pretty big one. The gladiators are a bit more willing to jump into things, and the fishermen are generally more open. Seems like they’ll contrast nicely once things settle down. So it’s kind of a big deal for the gladiators to just welcome the fishermen? You said they have to prove themselves. Do the fishermen ever end up doing something like that, or are they just an exception? Or is it that what they’ve already done proved themselves? 

9: They just loot the place, huh? Do they keep what they find or sell it? What’s Ranbob’s feelings about that?

10: A Wilbur descendant? Interesting. 

11: Oof. Well, at least they’re figuring it out. So there’s records about Dream and such? Do they just happen to find them, or are they led there? Who wrote those records? Does Ranbob notice when they find them, find some himself, or is that part of the trip he doesn’t know about? And Dream wrote in Ranbob’s journal too? Yikes. That must have been terrifying for Ranbob to experience. He compared it to Ranboo’s memory book, huh? Did that mean Ranbob figured out that something similar was happening to his ancestor? If so, how did he feel about it? And how does Ran feel about Dream’s part in all this? What does he do once he finally accepts it? Hug Ranbob? Apologize? Try to murder Dream?

12: Sounds like quite interesting group there. Charles and Ranbob both being shy sounds adorable honestly. Porkius sounds like he knows what he’s doing, and does it well.

13: They don’t seem particularly dull to me. But thank you for the heart-crushing scene, I’ll cherish it forever. Do the fishermen chase after Ranbob? How do the gladiators feel about that whole thing? Does Ran feel a bit guilty about it?

#Brothers AU #dream smp #dream smp au #ranbob #ran #jackie #watson #grievous #isaac #benjamin #cletus #ranboo #charles #tales from the smp

[angstysebfan]

Choices- Chapter 5

Pairing: Steve X Reader, Bucky Reader (not Stucky)

Summary: You fall in love with a super soldier, but after a decision that leaves you heartbroken you find yourself needing to decide where your heart truly lies.

The day of the mission finally arrived, and you were both nervous and excited this day was coming. Nervous because based off of what Steve said, this mission was the most important mission they have ever had, and excited because once it’s over, you get your boyfriend back. You are grabbing all of your weapons from the closet as Bucky comes in.

“You got this?” he asks, making you turn around with a smirk. “Well I have been trained by the best, so I’m sure I will be fine.” you say, causing Bucky to smirk. You both walk to quinjet together, where the rest of the team is sitting there waiting. You walk up and join the team, and then Steve spoke once Nat put the quinjet on autopilot.

--

You’re in the middle of the base, Steve on your right side. You both split off from Bucky and Sharon when the halls split up. We kept in constant contact with them as we moved around the base. Suddenly we came to another split in the hall. “You going to be okay?” Steve asks. You nod, “No worries, Cap. I can take care of myself.” you say. He gives you a quick peck and you separate.

--

You don’t know what happened, but you woke up and find yourself in a glass encased room, that big enough for you the stand, but not much else. The last thing you remember is Steve kissing you and then walking off on your own. Suddenly you hear a voice over the speakers, “Hello Captain. Welcome to our humble base, I hope you are enjoying your stay.” the eery voice says. 

You don’t hear Steve, but you assume he asked who the speaker was. “Oh you would love to know that wouldn’t you... but I think the question you should ask is... who do I have?” the voice says. Again you don’t hear his response, but you hear a sinister laugh.

“Well rumor has it that you have two women in your life, but I am going to make you choose. Both women are in glass enclosures, and they are both listening to this. You have 1 minute to choose who you will save, while the other dies slowly from gas. The blonde is to your left, and the Y/H/C is to your right. Choose Captain, your time starts now.” the voice says.

Your heart starts pounding as gas starts to fill the glass enclosure you are trapped in. You keep an eye out for Steve, but after several seconds you realize he isn’t coming. He must have chosen Sharon, and as you start to cough your heart breaks. Your vision starts to get fuzzy as your coughing gets harder.

Suddenly you hear the glass break and fresh air enter the enclosure. You at first think it is Steve, but when you look up you see Bucky with fear and determination in his eyes. He quickly picks you up and runs out of the enclosure toward the outside. your vision is still fuzzy when you get outside and your coughing hasn’t improved.

“Breath Y/N, come on. It’s okay, I got you.” Bucky says as he puts an oxygen mask over you. You look around and see Steve hovering over Sharon, and know that your thoughts were right. He chose Sharon, he was going to let you die. Steve looks over at you and all you can see if guilt, but you look away as the oxygen finally starts to help your cough.

Steve makes his way over and squats down next to you, “Baby? Are you okay?” Steve asks. Bucky lifts you up and away from Steve, but Steve starts to follow. You lean your head against Bucky’s shoulder and close your eyes wanting to just disappear from Steve. Steve follows you into the quinjet as Bucky puts you into a chair and straps you in.

“Steve you made your choice, now back the fuck off!” Bucky yelled in Steve’s face after strapping you in. Steve looks taken aback, “Buck, I.... I need to make sure she is okay.” Steve said. “As far as I am concerned, Y/N means nothing to you! You chose Sharon! I saved Y/N! Now go find your girl and leave her alone!” Bucky says. 

The rest of the team enters the quinjet and hear Bucky’s words. They are all in shock that Steve would have let you die. “I didn’t want her to die, but I could only save one and... “ “And Sharon is a Carter. A version of Peggy, yea I get it. You love her because he is part of Peggy and left the woman you have been dating for the last seven months!” Bucky shouts. 

You have tears rushing from your eyes as you grab Bucky’s hand and squeeze, bringing his attention to you. His harden face softens immediately and he sits next to you, tucking you into his chest. Bucky looks back up at Steve, “I got Y/N, you go take care of the woman you chose.” he says before returning his attention to you.

Steve sighs and walks away and heads over to Sharon. You clutch onto Bucky like he will disappear. “I got you, doll. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Bucky whispers and kisses your head as you cry. All you keep thinking is that you almost died if it hadn’t been for Bucky. Steve, the man you loved more than anything, chose her. 

He chose her.

--

Chapter 4 / Chapter 6

Fuck you Steve! Love you Bucky! Feedback is appreciated!

Permanent Taglist: @hairstylesbeauty @tuiccim​ @comedictragedy​ @cap-n-stuff​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @swiftmind​ @aleaisntcreative​ @lookiamtrying​ @pinknerdpanda​ @morganclaire4​ @iamvalentinaconstanza​ @verygraphicink​ @im-squished​ @joannie95​ @peace-love-hobbitness​

Story Taglist: @tweedlydumbtweedlydoo​ @supraveng​ @rebekahdawkins​

#steve x reader #bucky x reader #steve grant rogers #james buchanan barnes #steve rogers #Bucky Barnes #steve angst #Bucky angst #sharon carter

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Beginnings (2/9)

Mammon x ace gn!MC x ace!Leviathan

NOTE - read the content warnings listed in Part 1

[ AO3 | Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 ]

Mammon sprawled out on his bed. He knew exactly why you were avoiding him. And even though he’d scoff and act annoyed, he was really anything but. Every time he’d see you, for a brief moment he’d imagine you running up to him and tackling him in a hug like you’d use to. Which was ridiculous. Of course you wouldn’t do that, not after what he said.

Bored, and lonely, and with nothing else to do, Mammon pulled out his DDD and started browsing through Devilgram. He had initially been trying to distract himself, but it didn’t take long before he had stumbled across some old photos of you and him together. A soft smile spread across his face, even as he felt his heart tightening in his chest. He really missed you.

He swiped to the next image, surprised to find it was one that had been taken by one of his brothers of you and Levi. He noticed the glimmer in your eye as you looked at Levi while must have been ranting about who only knows what. Mammon felt his eyes starting to burn, tears pricking at the corners. He knew that look. That was his look. The one you were only supposed to direct at him. And here you were gazing at his brother like that?!

He was about to chuck his phone across the room, when his thumb swiped the screen again, this time moving on to a video of the three of you. You were at some coffee shop, and Mammon’s arm was wrapped tight around your shoulder, holding you close. Levi had been sitting next to you, awkwardly drinking his ridiculous coffee creation, when you looped your arm through his and tugged him to you so that he was also in the frame. The action made him blush up a storm, but there was that unmistakable look on his face of an idiot in love, one Mammon knew all too well.

Fuck.

He didn’t know how he hadn’t seen it before, but seeing the three of you together like that, you smiling and laughing as Mammon realized he was recording a video and not taking a photo, and Levi practically glowing like he was having the best day ever, made it painfully obvious just how smitten the lot of you were. You had done the responsible thing and tried to talk to Mammon about your feelings, and he had been a total dick, letting his insecurity get the better of him.

He had nothing against the idea of a polyamorous relationship in general. He had never had one before, but that was more just about timing and circumstance than any preference on his part. But as soon as you suggested it, a horrible dark, ugly feeling started to consume him and he just couldn’t think straight anymore. The thought that maybe the reason why you wanted such an arrangement with his brother was because Mammon was somehow lacking in some area had been hard to shake.

Mammon glanced back at the video on his DDD, swiping again to move to the next photo, and again and again. Dozens of photos of the three of you (and sometimes his other brothers too). You clearly didn’t think Mammon was lacking. You just genuinely seemed to love them both.

Mammon’s bedroom door suddenly got flung open, Levi forcing his way inside.

“What the hell did you do?!” he shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Mammon.

“What the hell are ya talkin’ about? I haven’t left my room since I got home from RAD!”

“I’m talking about MC, idiot, and why they have been avoiding me.”

“I dunno. Sounds like your problem,” Mammon quipped, turning his attention back to his DDD. He knew exactly what Levi was talking about though. And he knew it was his fault.

“Don’t give me that crap!” Levi shouted, picking up a nearby pillow and chucking it at Mammon. The impact knocked his designer shades askew, “Talk!”

“Fuckin’ hell! Aight. Fine. Wanna know why they’re avoidin’ ya?”

“Obviously!”

“Because they’re in love with you.”

“Th-th-that’s not funny! What kind of sick joke is that? It doesn’t even make any sense!” Levi stuttered, caught completely off guard by the revelation. But Mammon just shrugged his shoulders, hurling the pillow back at Levi, before laying back down on his bed.

“Go ask them if ya don’t believe me.”

Levi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why the hell would Mammon, who was supposed to be your partner, tell him that you had feelings for him? Had he broken up with you? Were you avoiding Levi because you were heartbroken and didn’t know if he’d accept your confession and just couldn’t bear to have your heart broken twice so close together? His thoughts were rapidly skipping from one to the next, as he struggled to make sense of this.

“F-fine! I will!” he finally shouted, slamming the door behind him as he left.

“STOP SLAMMING MY FUCKIN’ DOOR!” Mammon yelled after him.

——————

Back in his room, Levi was pacing in front of his fish tank, talking things over with Henry.

“Should I just go to their room? No, what if Mammon was just lying. Then they might not want to see me! Or worse...Mammon might be with them and I’d walk in on them and he’d just laugh at me for being so stupid. That has to be what this is, right? Some sort of trick because he’s in a bad mood. He just wants me to embarrass myself. There’s no way they’d actually like me. I mean, I know they’re my best friend, but still. That’s totally different than actually liking someone.”

Levi continued to ramble on and on, Henry swimming laps around his tank, like he was simply letting Levi wear himself out before he reached the obvious conclusion.

“Well...maybe I could like, text them? That would work right? Just a simple “ha ha can you believe what Mammon said” sort of thing? That should be ok, right? Not too desperate? What do you think, Henry?”

But Henry didn’t answer, he just continued swimming, leaving Levi to do what he knew he needed to do.

“Fine...but if this doesn’t work out, I’m blaming you,” Levi grumbled, taking out his DDD and tapping your name in his contacts.

>>>LEVI - hey

>>>LEVI - so. I stopped by Mammon’s room earlier

>>>LEVI - and he said you had feelings for me! LOLOL

>>>LEVI - can you believe that?

Levi held his breath as he waited for your response. The little “typing” notification appearing and then disappearing several times left him feeling like he was about to be sick.

>>>YOU - Mammon said that?

>>>LEVI - yeah, crazy right?

>>>YOU - it’s true

>>>YOU - but I don’t know what to do

>>>YOU - it’s complicated

>>>YOU - Levi? Are you still there?

>>>YOU - im sorry, did I say something wrong?

>>>YOU - I really care about you, I do

>>>YOU - you’re my best friend

>>>YOU - it’s ok if you don’t feel the same

>>>YOU - Levi?

#gn!mc #poly mc #ace!mc #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me fanfic

[offtopicoverload]

Hope Dumps Noah

I have no logical explanation for what this is, but @bubblybabynailpolish had an anon bring up Noah + Hope = Jade + Beck from Victorious a while ago, and it’s been living rent free in my head for weeks so here’s some bullshit. It’s loosely based on that one episode where Jade gets Tori to win back Beck except gayer and more litg and exists purely to appease the gremlin that is early 2010s me yelling in the back of my mind. And thanks to Anne for answering my weird asks, this is what they were for lmao

T Rating (fluff and angst, some elements of the show kinda? i tried at least)

Hope x MC (Rosie)

~10k (got super carried away but didnt wanna make multiple parts so take it as you will. on the bright side, it'd be longer if i edited properly but im tired so no)

Rosie’s front door shakes on its hinges, a pounding, thundering sound echoing from the other side, berating the wood as it quivers and quivers. Her head flies up in surprise, half expecting an army to spill into her flat, battering ram in hand as they shout orders. But no such event occurs, and she leaps up from the sofa in the corner, pocketing her phone and hurrying across the room before yanking the door open. She immediately freezes in place, meeting bewildered, watery eyes standing on the other side of the threshold.

Tears are streaming down splotchy cheeks, a throat bobbing as it fights to maintain some sort of composure, even as bones tremble beneath skin, shivering regardless of the heat of the building. “Um, uh, hey?” Rosie tries awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot in the doorway and gripping the knob with pale knuckles.

“Can I come in?” the words waver as they leave messy, tear-muddied, brightly stained lips, pouring out like broken shards, creating their own trail alongside tears. Red eyes glance down the hallway, paranoid as they search for something, even in the late night, “I don’t - I don’t want to be out here where -” a sniffle “- where people can see.”

Rosie blinks a few times, her mind still slowly working to process the situation that’s just presented itself to her. But dark eyes are glimmering with shed and unshed tears, pleading beneath lashes and shadows from poor corridor lighting, and she startles into action, “Yeah! Yeah, er, yeah,” she mumbles, moving aside and holding the door open in invitation.

The threshold’s crossed, hurrying inside the flat with arms crossed, making a beeline for the upholstered sofa backed against the wall and dropping down onto it. Rosie closes the door, locking it carefully, neurotically, slowly, just to give herself time to think, to make sense of what to do with one of the last people she ever expected inside her flat: Hope.

Hope’s sitting on her sofa, curled in on herself to take up as little space as possible, cheeks covered in the remnants of despair that Rosie can’t even explain, let alone prepare herself for. Hope’s sniffling in her living room, palms running up and down her biceps to calm herself, her throat struggling to stifle sobs she’s ashamed of. Hope’s crying in her flat, gaze pinned to the floor to avoid the world, makeup streaked and smudged on all of her features, features wracked with inexplicable pain.

Rosie turns from the door, brushing her clammy palms on her sweatpants over and over again, a distractionary stimuli to calm the nerves slowly bubbling beneath her skin. Nerves she hasn’t felt in months, and was determined to never feel again, not after weeks and weeks of the constant feeling of insects crawling beneath her skin, burrowing and biting and squirming. She glances up, finding Hope’s eyes trained on her, hesitant and terrified from across the room, the flat’s lights reflecting in them, her damp cheeks shimmering in the warm colours.

Rosie forces her lips to curl in a tiny smile as she approaches, somewhat slow and cautious, until she can fall into the cushions beside Hope, bloodshot eyes never straying from her movement. Rosie risks a hand on her back, gently skating up and down her spine, an attempt at comfort she doesn’t have a reason to provide. But she provides it anyway, praying it’ll help, it’ll keep the tears from dripping down Hope’s jaw and dampening her top.

Only it doesn’t, only Hope begins to crumble, falling against her and burying her face against Rosie’s shoulder, sobs shaking her shoulders, trembling like the door on its hinges. Rosie wraps her arms around the quaking body clinging to her, murmuring a few quiet assurances, an offer of a lifesaver in the raging sea drowning her. Her hands draw circles on Hope’s vulnerable back, shapes to distract herself with, to ground herself with.

Hope bawls and whimpers and sobs and shakes for what feels like forever to Rosie, a forever that’s odd and uncomfortable, a forever that she doesn’t know what to make of. It’s not that she’s necessarily upset with it - she’s done this for girl friends in the past, she knows how to help a heartbroken woman - it’s just who she’s helping. She hasn’t seen Hope since the finale, since she walked away with her hand clasped in Noah’s, since Rosie split the money with Arjun, just to appease the audience.

He was sweet, sure, but they just didn’t fit. She didn’t feel like he was her other half, her perfect match, a missing piece in the puzzle that constructs her life. She didn’t see herself sacrificing things for him, didn’t see herself working for her relationship with him, didn’t see herself with him, point blank. And Rosie doesn’t do things she can’t see, can’t envision, can’t rationalise.

Which is exactly why she has no idea what to make of the woman dampening and wrinkling her sweater, face pressed to her shoulder and hands fisted in her shirt. “Hey, it’s okay,” she murmurs against Hope’s head, her breath hot where it brushes skin, a shiver running through Hope at the exhale.

This is unfamiliar territory to Rosie, unknown ground as she slowly steps into no man’s land, wary of land mines sitting beneath the dirt. Land mines of glares and scoffs and dismissals, land mines that sat in every corner of the Villa. Maybe in another life this would be normal, be commonplace, but not in this one.

Not in the world where Rosie kissed Noah in the Villa’s lounge that fateful day, that day that she’s regretted ever since. It wasn’t meant to mean anything, it was only supposed to help Priya and Bobby. It wasn’t supposed to cause the end of the world or hurt Hope as much as it did. It wasn’t supposed to confuse Noah as much as it did or leave him dragging things on for ages. It wasn’t supposed to be anything at all, anything but a blatant mistake.

But it was, it was so much, and now here they are, months and months later. Hope hasn’t spoken to Rosie since the finale, and Rosie didn’t even mind. She’s barely kept in touch with anyone, the only people she speaks to being Chelsea and Priya, since they’re always first to reach out. Even in the Villa, Hope would barely speak to her, and it hurt for a while. It hurt that they had been so close and were suddenly so far, but she always forced that hurt away. It was her own fault, it was her actions that led to Hope hating her guts.

Except, maybe she doesn’t hate Rosie’s guts. Maybe she doesn’t want her dead or wish she was never born. Maybe she still thinks about when they were friends like Rosie does. Maybe there’s a reason she’s crying in Rosie’s arms in this moment, that she showed up at Rosie’s door, that she sought out something only Rosie could presumably offer.

Hope swallows thickly, her head turning until her cheek’s resting against Rosie. “We broke up,” Hope croaks, stifling another sob as she forces her voice out again, “I - I dumped Noah.”

“Oh, um…” Rosie fumbles, her hand tracing the length of Hope’s spine beneath her heavy, navy, patterned sweater, “I’m sorry,” she whispers, the words still warm as they settle on Hope’s skin.

“It’s my fault,” she whimpers, turning her face back to Rosie as another tremble courses through her, a barely suppressed noise of anguish dying in her throat.

Rosie resumes her reassurances, her small whispers into Hope’s scalp, her tight hold on Hope’s quivering body. She cycles through every calming technique or phrase she can think of what must be a hundred times over, until Hope quiets, until Rosie stops feeling tears on her neck, until steady, even breathing fills the flat.

She swallows to stabilise herself before asking the all important question, one she’s a little nervous to hear the answer to, “Can I - Can I ask why you’re here? And, uh, so upset? If it was your decision?” she trips over her words, a flower of nerves blossoming in her stomach, and she wants to stamp it out, to stop it from pulling her in once more.

Hope pulls away from, her face set in malleable stone even with tears glistening on her cheekbones, sparkling in the overhead lights Rosie had on, diamonds tumbling down her skin, soft enough not to cut. “I didn’t know who else to go to. I - I didn’t know what to do,” she confesses, her head bowing and eyes staring into her lap.

“Okay,” Rosie nods, a palm still skating up and down the length of Hope’s upper arm, “That’s okay. You don’t have to know. You can just stay here if you want?” she offers uneasily, shifting awkwardly in her spot.

Hope’s eyes flicker up to meet Rosie’s, a cautious hopefulness in them, “I can? It’s not, like, weird?” she mumbles, averting her gaze once more.

“Not if you don’t think it is,” Rosie counters as coolly as she can manage.

Hope shakes her head adamantly, “No, no, I’d… I’d rather not be on my own right now.”

Rosie smiles in what she hopes comes across as encouraging, “That’s cool. You want me to stay out here? We can watch a movie?” she proposes with pinched brows and squinted eyes.

A gentle, hesitant smile quirks Hope’s mouth, “Yeah.” She pauses, contemplative and nodding distractedly, “That’d be great, thanks.”

Rosie rises from the sofa, crossing the living room to flip off the lights and grab the remote and a pile of blankets sitting in the corner. She drops them beside Hope in a heap, crashing onto the opposite side of the sofa a second later. She flicks through streaming services until Hope points out some random romcom, Rosie turning it on as Hope relaxes into the sofa with one of the blankets.

Rosie doesn’t pay much attention to the film, playing with her box braids distractedly and only having a loose grasp on the cheesy plot, but she notices every time Hope laughs, the sound becoming more and more relaxed as time goes on. Rosie sinks into the cushions, her legs folded and arms wrapped around her torso, head lolled against the back of the sofa.

It’s hard to tell when her eyelids fall shut, or when the movie ends, or when Hope moves, but Rosie wakes up to a dark screen flickering through backgrounds and ads for streaming exclusives. She wakes up to Hope’s head resting on her shoulder and a blanket splayed across her lap, as if Hope was worried she’d be cold without it.

She blinks a few times in the dark, taking in the scene around her and slowly processing what her night has become. She only wanted to sit on her phone before going to bed early after her long day at work. She didn’t expect a crying woman to show up at her doorstep or to watch a bad movie until too early in the morning, or to fall asleep in the living room. A sigh shakes her chest, and she reaches for the remote, turning off the telly and settling back into the sofa, Hope shifting beside her with the adjustment.

---

Rosie wakes up to sunlight pouring into her flat and a deserted sofa, blankets the only remnants of Hope’s night spent in the living room. She slumps forward, head in her hands as she adjusts to the too-bright sun and the noise of London already filtering inside, honks of car horns and a hum of people on the streets providing a familiar soundtrack to her wake up.

“I want to get him back,” a voice declares, the words wavering slightly as they fall from lips set in a frown.

“Hmm?” Rosie hums groggily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she lifts her head, blinking to clear her vision. She finds Hope standing across the room, arms crossed and expression determined as she meets Rosie’s gaze.

“I want to get Noah back, I want to tell him I’m sorry for the breakup,” Hope repeats, her voice sturdier now.

Rosie nods, her mind still foggy but the haze slowly clearing, “Okay. That’s good,” she rationalises slowly, rising from the sofa and stretching her muscles; she’s made a point to avoid sleeping on the sofa normally. She stalks into the kitchen, falling into her usual morning routine easily.

Hope follows behind her, eyes widening, “It is?” she sounds surprised, stopping a ways away from Rosie, feet on the wood.

“Yeah, if you were happy together,” Rosie nods again, turning to her kitchen appliances. She starts with coffee, collecting beans and supplies meticulously as always, setting them out in a particular pattern beside the fridge.

Hope crashes into a barstool at the counter behind Rosie, her voice coming out softer now, “We were,” she confirms.

“Okay,” Rosie shrugs. “So go get him back,” she turns, forearms dropping to the counter beneath her to support her weight. She watches Hope curiously, expecting some explanation or excitement or something of the like, but Hope’s gone silent, her lip slipping between her teeth to worry the skin. Her gaze is trained on the pale countertop, hands clasped tightly in her lap. “Hope?” Rosie asks gently.

Dark eyes fly up to meet her own, snapping up too quickly, “Yeah?”

“You okay?” Concern wells in Rosie’s gaze before she can prevent it, her upper body unconsciously leaning forward to inspect Hope and find what’s suddenly irking her.

“Yeah,” Hope nods.

Rosie isn’t quite convinced, her brows knitting together, “You sure?”

Hope’s eyes flicker around the kitchen for a minute to avoid the deep eyes watching her before her shoulders slump, defeated and exhausted, “No,” she mumbles dejectedly.

“What’s wrong?”

A heavy sigh lifts Hope’s shoulders, twitching them lightly “I don’t think he’ll talk to me, not after yesterday.”

Rosie pauses. She hadn’t really considered that, just assumed Noah would be as torn up about the breakup as Hope had been, that he’d been jumping in place if Hope said it was a mistake. Her fingernails tap at the counter as she considers, weighing her options before diving right in, “Do you want me to try?”

Hope’s eyes dart to Rosie again, still just as surprised as earlier, as if everything Rosie does is entirely unbelievable, “You’d do that?”

“I guess?” Rosie gives an awkward shrug, averting her eyes and turning around to continue making coffee. She grabs milk from the fridge before finishing the process, pouring everything into a mug, “Yeah, sure,” she mumbles when she faces Hope again, swirling the dark liquid in a whirlpool.

It’s a long, almost painful amount of time before either of them utter another word. “Thank you,” Hope whispers the words, a tiny break in the quiet of the flat, of the bubble that’s formed in the kitchen.

---

The next day, long after Hope leaves her flat, long after Rosie made eggs and coffee for the both of them, long after Hope gave Rosie a quick hug in thanks, Rosie grabs an Uber to the other side of the city, to the library Noah works at. She strides into the building with her hands knotted in the pockets of her jacket, nerves clamming her palms as she scans the open area she’s found herself in. It’s relatively empty, only a few people sitting and working or browsing shelves idly in the middle of the day.

She searches a few aisles, glancing down empty passageways and passing shelf after shelf loaded with books. A few patrons give her odd looks, some outright glaring at her for her behaviour, but she eventually finds Noah in a back corner, restocking a few shelves in practiced motions, a cart loaded with books parked beside him.

“Hey,” she greets from down the aisle, waving slightly with an uneasy smile when he glances at her in surprise.

He adds the books in his hands to the shelf before turning to face her properly, his expression slightly stunned, “Hey,” he greets back, his tone puzzled as one hand falls to the book cart to lean against.

Rosie ventures further into the aisle, her eyes darting around as she attempts to figure out how to broach the tender subject of a breakup from only two days ago. She stops before him, folding her arms and rolling up and down on her toes, “So…” she starts, looking up at him from beneath her lashes in hopes that he’ll understand what she’s getting at.

He doesn’t, only blinking as he looks at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation for her presence. She sighs, one hand fiddling with the tips of her braids nervously, rolling them between the pads of her fingers, “You and Hope broke up?” she eventually asks, meeting his gaze with as much confidence as she can muster.

His eyes go wide, his jaw falling open, “Um, yeah, but I - Look, you’re really amazing but I think I need a little time, you know, and if you’ll wait, that’s great, but I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything, but again, you’re amazing, I just…” he trails off as he takes in the confusion on her face, a blush growing on his cheeks.

Then it clicks, “Oh!” she startles. “No, no, I - mate, I didn’t come to hit on you,” she clarifies, somewhat taken aback by the conclusion he so quickly jumped to. “I’m not here to ask you out, no,” she reiterates.

He nods swiftly, muttering a few apologies under his breath before clearing his throat. “So, um, why are you here then?” he asks, careful and wary of saying something else wrong.

Rosie shifts on her feet, hands falling back to fidget in her jacket pocket’s, “Well… I kinda got the impression that Hope regrets the way things went down and wants to try again,” she forces, drawing herself to her full height, still a few inches shorter than the man before her.

Confusion flickers on his face, “How’d you get that impression?”

“I talked to her.”

The confusion grows, a crease splitting his eyebrows, “She talked to you?”

“She showed up at my flat,” Rosie answers casually.

“Why?”

She shrugs, mumbling out an “I dunno” in response.

“And you’re fine with that? And you’re helping her?” his arms cross over his chest as he asks, staring down at her intently, intimidatingly.

“Yeah,” she shrinks under his gaze, drawing her jacket tighter to block out the sudden chill coursing down her spine.

Noah’s lips twist, though in frustration or anger or upset, Rosie can’t tell. “Why?” he repeats.

Rosie sighs, shrugging again at the lack of a better answer, offering her best explanation, “She was really torn up about it.”

“She dumped me,” he states calmly, matter-of-factly, dismissively.

“I know.”

He watches Rosie carefully for a moment, taking in her appearance as she shuffles on her feet, unable to conceive of where this conversation is going next. “Do you know why?” he finally asks, Rosie stilling at the question.

“No,” she admits reluctantly.

“I got lunch with Priya, alone.”

“Well, yeah, that’s not great,” sarcasm soaks her words, coating her throat as the syllables escape.

Noah blinks at her, still stern and calm, “Because Ibrahim and Marisol had to cancel.”

“Oh,” Rosie freezes, her body tensing uncomfortably. That changes things. She swallows thickly, eyebrows raising and curving together, “Does she know that?”

“I tried to tell her.”

“Maybe she’ll listen now.”

“She never does,” Noah shrugs, his demeanor unchanged and unaffected.

She looks to him in disbelief, “That can’t be true.”

He heaves a heavy sigh, his guard finally cracking as his arms fall back to his sides, disappointment radiating from him like warmth from a fire, “For my birthday she got me The Old Man and the Sea,” he looks at Rosie as if he expects her to understand what that means.

“Okay…” she squints. She knows enough about literature to know it’s a classic, that most students have to read it at one point, herself included. “Why’s that bad? You’re a librarian.”

Noah’s lips curve in a slight frown as he straightens impossibly taller, “I hate Hemingway,” he nearly spits the name, a frown splitting Rosie’s own lips at his obvious displeasure.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

---

Hope shows up at Rosie’s flat again that night, her features fraught as she hurries in, hugging herself tight with her coat. She drops onto the sofa after she enters, Rosie following a beat behind and folding her legs on the cushions, Hope nearly vibrating in her skin as she watches Rosie expectantly.

When Rosie only meets her gaze, she sighs exasperatedly, “Well? What’d he say? He didn’t text me or anything,” she leans forward, eager to learn.

Rosie shifts under the excitement presented to her, excitement she knows is about to die, “He, uh, he wasn’t really on board with you guys getting back together,” she mumbles, avoiding shining eyes.

Hope visibly deflates in only a heartbeat, her bottom lip poking out as tears well in her eyes, every part of her depressed and hurt, “He wasn’t?” Her voice is small, painfully so to Rosie’s ears.

She forces herself not to cringe at the tone, at the way Hope’s fighting tears once more, “No, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, you’ve done a lot,” Hope sniffles, wiping at her nose and blinking back tears to calm herself, to prevent another onslaught of sobs on Rosie’s sofa. “You’ve done a lot,” she repeats, eyes trained on the fabric of the cushions beneath them, staring intently just to have something to focus her energy on. “Did he say why?” she finally asks after a minute, breaking the brief silence that had settled over them.

“Er -” Rosie squirms, fidgeting nervously, “He said he didn’t think you really listened to him,” she draws out the words, not wanting to speak them.

Hope is absolutely appalled, her jaw falling open in horror, “That’s - That’s not true!” she eventually manages the words, her mouth fumbling them.

“I know, but -”

“I listen!” she insists, hands flying up to grip Rosie’s forearm desperately, in search of confirmation that she’s a good person, a good partner, “Why would he say that, Rosie?” she’s panicked as her grasp tightens, falling away only a second later, “Why would he say that?” she repeats, softer now, a whisper.

“He said for his birthday you got him a Hemingway book,” Rosie chances.

Hope’s arms fold over her chest protectively, “He didn’t have any Hemingway.”

“‘Cause he hates Hemingway,” Rosie explains as gently as she can, Hope immediately slumping again, any retorts or defences forgotten.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

It’s quiet, Hope staring at nothing and Rosie staring at Hope, waiting for something to change, waiting for her to get sad or angry or maybe just leave all together. But she doesn’t, meeting Rosie’s eyes with a fire inside her own, “I need something else.” She’s determined as she sinks into the cushions, thinking raptly of some solution. “What if I get him a gift?” a lightbulb seems to explode above her head as she sits up again.

Rosie blinks at the quick change in mood, taken aback at the grin sitting on Hope’s lips. “Like what?”

“He likes Greyhounds?” Hope proposes with a tilt of her head and a quirk of an eyebrow, “He always said he’d love to have one.”

“You’re gonna buy him an entire dog?” Rosie asks in shock, her tone stunted and sharp.

Hope scowls at her in irritation, “He likes them!” she defends, “He’s talked about them a lot, and it’ll show I listen, right?”

“I guess?”

“What do you mean you guess?”

Hands fly up in self-defence and attempted placation, “This is your relationship, I don’t know him or what goes,” Rosie gestures in the air separating her from Hope, working to diffuse the tension.

Hope huffs, crossing her arms and collapsing into the cushions behind her, “Fine.”

---

Hope spends the next few days looking up shelters and breeders, trying to decide on a puppy or an adult or even an elderly dog, researching proper care for a Greyhound and what they need. Rosie doesn’t see or hear from Hope until her phone’s ringing incessantly as she gets out of the shower, scrambling to answer it and silence the buzzing, “Hello?” she asks without even reading the Caller ID, fumbling to turn on speakerphone.

“Hey!” Hope’s voice crackles through the speaker, bright and energetic. “I found one!” she announces, clearly pleased with herself and her findings.

“Hmm?” Rosie questions distractedly, tightening her towel wrapped around her body and grabbing skin and hair products to set them on the bathroom sink.

“I found a dog! I went to a shelter!”

Rosie nods, only realising afterwards that Hope can’t see her, sighing as she coats her face in moisturiser. “That’s great,” she hums again.

“Can you come over tonight? And we bring him to Noah’s flat? Please?” her voice is begging as it rings through the phone, Rosie glancing to it as Hope draws out the vowels of her plea.

“Uh, yeah, I think I’m free,” she mumbles, her mouth twisting as she applies products.

She’s reaching for the end call button after a long silence when a quiet murmur surprises her, “Thank you,” Hope whispers into her phone from the other side of the line.

A small smile curves Rosie’s mouth, “No problem.”

---

“You’re the worst,” Hope groans as she tugs on a leash, glaring at Rosie and her amused smile beside her.

“Says the one that dragged me into this,” Rosie grins, popping her eyebrows for effect. She’s refused to assist with the dog the entire time, forcing Hope to try and wrangle the full grown animal.

It darts forward down the street, yanking Hope along, “Hey!” she chastises, Rosie laughing unabashedly from behind her, jogging to catch up. “You could help, you know! He listened to you earlier!”

Rosie smirks, “Oh, I know. This is much more fun, though,” she teases, falling into another fit of laughter as Hope digs her heels into the pavement, working to pull the dog back.

He doesn’t listen, carrying on in the direction of the library. Noah wasn’t at his flat, so they’ve been forced to take a short detour to find him without waiting. “At least he knows where he’s going,” Rosie comments, still grinning.

Hope shoots her a scowl, “How lucky,” she spits through gritted teeth, her jaw tight as she uses all her strength to keep the dog from running off into London’s streets.

Rosie sighs as Hope nearly trips over her own feet, crouching down and whistling sharply. The dog turns, bolting for her, nearly tackling her to the ground until she grips his fur to keep upright, cooing over him the entire time. Hope’s gaze is a mix of disappointed, annoyed, and mildly impressed as Rosie grins up at her, scratching the dog behind his ears.

She pops back to her feet, stealing the leash from Hope in one smooth motion, “You’re welcome,” she hums, setting back off on their path, the dog following obediently on her heels.

She hears Hope groaning about it behind her until she catches up, muttering a ‘thanks’ under her breath, much to Rosie’s enjoyment. The rest of the walk is relatively quiet, only a few good natured ribbings from Rosie or complaints from Hope filling the space as they work their way to the library, street lamps illuminating much of their path in the dark evening.

Noah spots them before they spot him, the pair distracted as Rosie laughs at Hope’s grumbling, Rosie nearly walking into a post as she struggles to stay upright. “Stop it!” Hope chides, slapping her shoulder, which only makes Rosie laugh even harder.

“Um, hi?” Noah calls out to them, earning their gazes simultaneously. Hope stiffens, Rosie sobers, and the dog slobbers onto the pavement beneath their feet.

Rosie passes the leash back to Hope, taking a step back and away from their reunion, much to Noah’s confusion. “Hi,” Hope greets back, his eyes settling back on her.

“What are you guys doing out here?” he asks, his tone slipping into something adjacent to wariness, maybe light caution.

A bright smile curves Hope’s mouth and she sticks her hand out, offering the leash and the dog attached to it, “I got you a dog!” she announces eagerly, “I know how much you’ve always wanted one, so…” she trails off at his expression.

His eyebrows are drawn tight, lips working to form some words, “You got me a dog?!” he balks, his expression soon slipping into anger, almost a snarl, with his eyes blazing. Hope taking a step away from him, blinking rapidly as her mind audibly whirs.

“You always said you wanted one!” she explains, a spark igniting in her own dark eyes, threatening to start a fight.

“That doesn’t - What were you thinking?!”

Hope’s jaw sets tight, but it’s not enough to hide the shimmer in her eyes, “You like them, I know you do! And you don’t think I listen, but I do, so I’m proving that to you!” she counters, her voice raising.

Noah looks baffled, his hands flying and mouth opening and closing as he searches for words, “He won’t fit in my flat, Hope! He’s big and - and has a ton of energy!” he gestures wildly to the dog that’s found his way to Rosie, sitting in front of her as she scratches behind his ear.

“I thought that’s what you liked about them!” Hope’s own arms are waving, in both exasperation and irritation. One hand rises to fidget with her braids, tugging on and fiddling with a few.

“Yeah, for when I’m in a house, not a tiny flat!” Noah shouts back, “I can’t have him! I don’t want him!”

Any fire that had been blazing in Hope’s dark eyes dies out at that, at the way Noah’s glaring at her, at the way he’s dismissed her peace offering, her attempt to fix things between them. “But -”

“You can’t just -” he huffs sharply before trying to school his expression into something calmer, “You can’t just do these things without asking, it’s like you don’t even care what I think.”

Hope looks horrified, like her world is turning to ash right before her, and maybe it is, maybe this is the end of everything for her, “That’s not - I care! This is how I care! I - I pay attention and try and do things for you!”

“I don’t want you to do things for me!” Noah counters, hands balling into angry fists at his sides.

“Why not?” Hope asks indignantly, head tilted back to meet Noah’s gaze directly, her chest puffed out in a show of confidence.

Noah flounders, his jaw snapping shut, visibly rolling with tension as he searches for a reason, exploding when he can’t find one, “I just don’t! I can do things myself, Hope, I don’t need you railroading me like you always do! I’m tired of it, it’s not worth it!” he accuses, his last words effectively severing any chance at reconciliation.

Hope slumps, her shoulders sagging and face drooping, every muscle in her body going lax, as if she’s melting from heartache. Noah exhales sharply, his own shoulders dropping, losing some of the tension keeping them upright as he drags a hand through his hair, playing with it to calm himself further.

Rosie keeps to the side, not sure of her place, not sure if she’s meant to intervene, and only watches Hope stand with her head turned to the ground, braids blocking her face from view as she remains frozen, unmoving, her feet stuck to the ground and her body tense. “I’m sorry.” The words are barely audible, fractures of the typical strength in her voice, before she turns on her heel, dropping the dog’s leash and running away with tears in her eyes.

Noah deflates as she leaves, his hands balled up tight to steady himself, his face scrunched up in thought and frustration and likely a dozen other emotions as he struggles to process them. He slumps forward, his previous fight and irritation dissipating into the air, the dog still sitting at Rosie’s feet, tongue lolling and a whine echoing from him.

All the while, Rosie struggles for words, for a reaction, for something appropriate, but all she can think about is the way Hope collapsed before him, like the sight is imprinted on her mind. “Come on, mate,” she finally breaks the quiet, “You didn’t have to be that harsh,” she comments, deep creases in her own forehead and between her brows.

“I didn’t mean to be,” Noah mumbles, head down in shame as he stares at the ground, blank and empty save for the rise of his chest with each breath.

Rosie steps closer as the silence drags on, scooping up the abandoned leash and glancing over her shoulder and finding Hope long gone as she does. Her hand rises to his shoulder, gripping it loosely, “I know,” she shrugs weakly, squeezing the muscles beneath her palm. “Sorry about the dog,” she offers.

Noah laughs a little, but it’s splintered on the edges and lacking any real joy or amusement, “It’s fine. My mum’ll love him, I’m sure.”

Rosie nods sagely, retracting her hand carefully before gesturing over her shoulder, “I’m gonna, uh, go after her,” she mutters, turning on her heel and hurrying after Hope.

She finds her slumped against a wall half a block away, staring at nothing with tears streaming down her face as her lip quivers with barely restrained sobs. Rosie skids to a stop beside her, earning Hope’s attention momentarily, before she turns back to staring at nothing. She’s hollow, her gaze empty, barely there as she drifts through her mind and the storm that must be filling it like a hurricane. Rosie doesn’t say anything, only leans against the wall beside the destitute woman, eyes trained on the glimmers coating her cheeks, lit by street lamps around them.

“I just,” Hope finally begins after a long, painstakingly silent moment, “I don’t get it.” She sniffles, “I - I know we weren’t perfect, but I just… I thought we meant more than we must have.” Her voice falls apart on the last few words, cracking and splintering into a tiny, fragile whisper.

Rosie nods in understanding, pulling Hope into her arms without uttering a single word, holding her close and letting her fall apart once more, shaking under the weight of Rosie’s arms around her, burying her face in her shoulder. Her hands fist in the fabric of Rosie’s shirt, an anchor to attach herself to as the hurricane blows and wrecks and destroys her insides.

Hope’s tired of letting go, of giving in or giving up, of letting her world dissolve in her hands because fighting’s too much of a risk, a hazard, a danger to her. She’s tired of ignoring the things that rub her the wrong way, that send a cold chill down her spine, that fill her skull with a swirling mass of dark and awful thoughts. She’s tired of all the hurt and the fighting, of the way her skin turns a sickly green every time someone gets too close, of the headaches and nausea that accompany one of his unbothered shrugs.

She’s tired of it, she’s done with it, she’s not going to fight anymore, not when he doesn’t fight for her. Not when Rosie is the one she’s been leaning on, not when Rosie is the one that’s been consoling her, not when Rosie is the one that’s been nice, and caring, and sweet, and gentle, and there.

Hope shifts, freeing her face from Rosie’s top as the tears come to a stop, but keeping her head resting against her shoulder. “Why couldn’t it have been like this?” she whispers into the air, a quiet pondering that’s directed more to herself than the woman wrapped around her.

“Hmm?” Rosie hums, pulling back to look down at Hope, finding her gaze distant as she stares into the space before her, eyes piercing into the street stretching before them. “What do you mean?” Rosie murmurs down to her, finally drawing dark eyes to her own.

They’re averted just as quickly, Hope pressing her cheek even further into Rosie’s shoulder, and Rosie swears she sees some colour rush to Hope’s face. “I dunno,” she mumbles, gaze trained on nothing in particular. “It’s just… easier. Comforting. You let me do this and you’re sweet about it.”

“Noah seems pretty sweet,” Rosie mumbles awkwardly, still unsure where the line is, how Hope feels about him, how she wants to feel about him and their relationship.

Her shoulders raise in a miniscule, half-hearted shrug, “Yeah, but he doesn’t really get it. He doesn’t get it when I’m upset or mad. He’s too calm,” her lips twist at the statement, displeased at the memories.

Rosie snorts, above her, Hope’s eyes darting upwards, “What, and I’m a raving madwoman, is that?” she grins, the tension of the moment falling away with ease.

Hope’s mouth curves at the edges as she slips from Rosie’s grasp just enough to slap her arm, a common reaction to the older woman’s antics, Rosie feigning pain and rubbing at the spot instantly. “No!” Hope chides, “But you get it,” she settles back against Rosie, “Or at least you get what to do. Noah would try and fix it or tell me to ignore it or whatever, but you just let me be.”

Rosie shrugs, some heat rising to her cheeks as she glances towards the empty street beside them, fumbling for a response. She defaults to finding somewhere that will bring Hope some sort of solace, “Okay, let’s get you home,” she sighs, ignoring the heat on the back of her neck to the best of her ability.

Hope removes herself from Rosie’s hold entirely this time, stepping back and folding her arms while shifting from foot to foot. “Can I stay at your place tonight?” she asks with a twist of her lips, looking to Rosie from beneath her lashes.

“Sure,” Rosie grins, slinging her arm over Hope’s shoulders to guide her through the streets to her car, Hope leaning into her with ease as they trade some small conversation.

---

A day later and there’s a knock on Rosie’s door from across the flat, a short, sharp knock. She sighs, grabbing a dish towel and dusting off her hands before exiting the kitchen and the mess of ingredients within it. Another knock sounds on the wood, impatient as it continues on and on, Rosie hurrying to reach the door.

She jerks it open to find Hope on the other side of the threshold, beaming with her fist still poised in the air and a bottle of wine in her other hand. “Hi!” she greets, stepping past Rosie into the flat and scanning the open area curiously.

“Hey?” Rosie tries, shutting the door behind Hope and leaning against it, arms crossed and towel in hand. “Should I have been expecting you?” she asks, cycling through her day in her mind to double-check.

“Nope!” Hope turns, still grinning, “But I brought wine!” she offers the bottle proudly, swinging it for emphasis.

Rosie nods, one brow raised, “I can see that.”

Hope’s smile dims, slowly falling away as Rosie doesn’t say anything more, evidently a sign of annoyance. “Sorry,” she bows her head. “I shouldn’t have come, should I? I’m sorry, I just didn’t know what to do tonight,” she confesses, her words rushing in a hurry to explain herself.

Rosie pushes herself upright from the door, stepping away from the threshold and closer to Hope, “I take it you usually spend evenings with Noah?”

Hope only nods in response, head still down in embarrassment and resignation. Her arms are slack at her side, the wine bottle dangling loosely in her grasp as she awaits Rosie’s harsh words telling her to leave and not come back.

“Well, I’m making dinner right now and I always make too much,” Rosie states, no edge in her voice, no malice in her words, “Take your shoes off and it’ll be done in about a half hour.” Rosie turns, striding back into the kitchen and leaving Hope to collect herself.

She joins Rosie a few minutes later in her socks, her smile repaired as she drops into a barstool across from Rosie, placing the wine bottle on the counter, a glimmer in her eyes as she presents it, pushing it across the counter. Rosie laughs in response, nicking it and pulling out wine glasses. She pours a drink for each of them, Hope draining hers rather quickly as she talks about her day, Rosie stealing a few sips as she cooks.

Rosie presents the finished dinner with a flourish to Hope, earning a laugh as she takes the plate. Rosie rounds the kitchen, dropping into the stool beside Hope and taking a swig of her wine. “So what’d you do today?” Hope prompts curiously, cutting into the chicken Rosie made and taking a bite.

“Usual stuff. Trained today, the new player’s are adjusting pretty well, and then ran a few errands. Usual stuff,” she shrugs, taking a bite of asparagus.

“That’s fun,” Hope hums encouragingly, smiling wide when Rosie glances to her. She nearly chokes on her food at the sight, coughing and laughing at the same time as Hope watches in confusion and concern, “What’s happening? Are you okay?” she turns in her seat to face Rosie directly, hands hovering, unsure of where to land.

Rosie waves her off, still working to catch her breath and stop laughing, something made infinitely more difficult by Hope hitting her on the back to presumably help her dislodge something. “I’m fine!” she croaks, working to suck in deep breaths.

“Are you sure? What happened?” Hope asks again, hand on the back of Rosie’s seat, just in case.

Rosie chuckles briefly before pressing her lips together, forcing neutrality that barely holds together, “You were just very serious in your excitement over groceries.” She bites her tongue to keep from laughing again.

“Is that really it?” Rosie nods to confirm, suppressing more giggles. Hope’s eyes roll, a groan escaping from her throat, “You’re the worst.”

Now Rosie can barely hold it back, dissolving into giggles as Hope scowls, picking at her meal as Rosie struggles to find air. “Says the one eating my food,” she grins when she finally catches her breath.

“What’s that mean?” Hope turns with a glare.

Rosie draws herself taller, even sitting down she’s got some height on Hope, “It means you showed up at my door unannounced and stole all my hard work,” she accuses coolly.

“I brought you wine!” Hope frowns, gesturing to the bottle in her defence.

Rosie raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile on her lips, “Who’s the one drinking it all?”

That shuts Hope up, Rosie earning a scowl as they turn back to their dinners, Hope staying quiet until Rosie brings up her job. Then she’s beaming and telling every detail of her workplace she can think of, every coworker that’s weird or mean or nice or funny, every aspect of career that she loves.

The conversation flows alongside the wine, until the bottle’s empty and the pair’s slouched on the sofa, facing each other on opposite ends. Hope fumbles for her phone, pulling it out and wincing at the time, “I need to go home.” She turns, standing up what must be too quickly because she drops back to the cushions.

Rosie shifts forward too, folding her legs before her, “Did you drive here?”

Braids jangle as Hope nods, her eyes falling shut as she slowly leans back into the cushions again. Rosie sighs, finding it much easier to stand than Hope, and grabs a blanket, draping it across her lap, “Just stay here.

Hope’s eyes squint open, looking up at Rosie with dilated pupils, “You sure?” she mumbles, her words slurring together from the alcohol that had coated her tongue.

“Yeah, you’re not getting in a wreck on my watch,” Rosie hums, collecting their glasses and the empty bottle before striding into the kitchen. She puts the glasses in the sink and the bottle on the counter beside it to deal with tomorrow, then retraces her steps to the living room.

Hope’s curled up on the sofa already, the blanket tucked under her chin, and Rosie smiles at the sight and absurdity of a drunk Hope asleep in her flat. She shakes her head, turning to her bedroom and stalking inside, collapsing on the bed as soon as she can, passing out as soon as her head hits the pillow.

---

Hope continues coming to Rosie’s flat a few times a week, sometimes with an offering of wine or takeaway in hand, sometimes with nothing more than herself. They watch movies and talk and laugh about stupid things from the Villa or stories from their lives until their tired from long days or it’s three in the morning and they still don’t stop talking.

Sometimes Hope sits in an armchair and responds to emails while Rosie paces the length of the flat with her phone pressed to her ear, talking down one of her players or fighting with managers. Sometimes there’s not a single word spoken between them, sometimes all they do is talk, sometimes Rosie makes dinner, sometimes it’s late enough that they’ve both already eaten, sometimes Hope shows up after Rosie has already gone to bed, sometimes Hope even beats her home in the afternoon.

There’s no pattern to any of it, there’s no rhythm, nothing concrete to Hope’s appearances, but Rosie soon finds that she doesn’t even mind. It’s actually kind of nice, to have someone around without any expectations. It’s kind of nice that Hope brings her soup when she gets a cold, or how Hope somehow always has wine on hand for when they need it, or how Hope tidies the flat when she’s especially busy.

It’s a casual night tonight, popcorn and drinks sitting on the coffee table as a movie plays across from them in the dark. Rosie picked tonight, a drama about a hockey team one of her players always recommends, since she couldn’t think of anything else but was not definitely not watching another of Hope’s romcoms twice in a row. They’d been snacking all night, splitting a pizza in the evening as Hope worked on some project and Rosie scrolled her phone, a silence seeping into the flat.

Rosie watches the film in a similar silence now, watches the flickering of light as it reflects and refracts off every available surface in the room. A contented sigh vibrates in her throat as she settles further into the sofa, pulling the blanket she’s enthralled within tighter. She sinks into the cushions, shifting her legs and letting her knees brush against Hope’s thighs.

Speaking of, she can see the other woman watching her in the dark, eyes trained on Rosie’s features, inspecting them carefully as blues and yellows and reds and dozens of other hues play in her dark irises, glinting off and mixing with them. Rosie glances over, finding a crease between Hope’s brows as she stares at something below Rosie’s eyes that she can’t quite place. She smiles softly in the dim lighting, teasingly, “What?” she asks, “Something on my face?”

Only she doesn’t get the chance to ask the second question, because suddenly there is absolutely something on her face, something that she doesn’t think should be there and was not at all anticipating, but honestly doesn’t entirely mind. Hope’s lips are on hers, soft and nice and there.

Hope’s kissing her. Hope’s kissing her, and it’s tentative and cautious and careful, like Hope’s gaze was a moment ago, and it all makes sense in an instant. She blinks, stunned and shocked, until her lashes flutter shut and she’s kissing Hope back. She melts into her, a hand rising to cup Hope’s cheek and draw her closer, a hand fisting in the front of her shirt to close the space between them.

When they finally break for air, a sigh slips past Hope’s lips as their lips separate, still brushing against each other, their breath mingling in the small gap. “Um, what…?” Rosie whispers against the lips on hers, unable to find a conclusion to the question.

“I - I don’t know,” Hope whispers, just as quiet, “Sorry,” she murmurs, pulling back.

Rosie watches her go, hurt welling inside her gut at the regret evident on Hope’s face, “Why?”

Hope shakes her head, like she’s frustrated with something, though Rosie doesn’t know what. “Didn’t ask,” is all she says, leaning away and turning back to the film still playing.

Rosie’s following her retreat without even realising, chasing after Hope unconsciously. “Didn’t mind.”

“Really?” Hope’s eyes snap to her, wide with clear surprise at the admission.

“I mean, maybe a little warning next time, but…” Rosie shrugs, unbothered.

Dark eyes glimmer, lit by the films rainbow of lighting, “Next time?”

“If you want.”

Hope shifts, facing Rosie head on, “Do you want a next time?” she asks carefully, emphasising the importance of the question with wide eyes.

A smirk lifts the corner of Rosie’s mouth, “First time was pretty good, so yeah.”

“Only ‘pretty good’?” Hope teases, leaning closer again, close enough for Rosie to see faint specks sparkling in her irises.

“Yep,” Rosie nods, resolute as her face solidifies into sharp stone. “Not about to stroke your ego.”

Hope groans, “You’re the worst.”

“Says the one that kissed me first,” Rosie teases right back, her smirk only growing at Hope’s annoyance, however played up it may be.

“Shut up,” Hope whines.

“No thanks,” Rosie grins, ready to start a spiel about everything she’s learned annoys Hope in the past few months, everything that earns a groan or a sigh or an eye roll, everything that makes her glare or scowl or slap Rosie’s arm even though it doesn’t hurt. “I think I’m -”

Hope’s kissing her again, only this time it’s deeper, filled with fire as Hope’s hands slip around to cup the back of her head, pulling Rosie ever closer and holding her there. Rosie’s own hands slide along Hope’s body, landing on her thighs and tugging her forward on the cushions, until their bodies are pressed together, with lips locked together. A groan slips from Hope’s throat, Rosie humming at the noise and sending her hands exploring in search of more sounds, palms grazing Hope’s exposed navel, muscles twitching beneath skin.

Hope splits them apart, her forehead pressing against Rosie’s gently, her panting breaths sending a shiver down Rosie’s spine. “What are we now?” her words only amplifying the effect.

“Whatever you want us to be,” Rosie answers easily, the question seeming unnecessary, “You’re kinda taking the reins here.”

Hope pauses, her hands clasped behind Rosie’s neck and thumbs brushing her skin idly. “Are we already dating?” she asks after a long moment.

“What do you mean?”

“We do a lot of coupley stuff,” Hope shrugs a bit, her lips twisting in contemplation, “We hang out all the time and I stay over and you make dinner and we watch movies,” she lists off.

Rosie pulls away, putting enough space between them to take in all of Hope, “Do you wanna carry on like this?”

Hope blinks, like she wasn’t expecting that question, “Yeah,” she answers, a little indignantly.

“Okay,” Rosie nods along, “Do you wanna call it dating?”

Hope stalls, eyes falling away as she considers, her voice coming out smaller than before when it finally does, “...Yeah.”

“Then we’re dating,” Rosie smiles sweetly at her, Hope’s expression softening at the sight.

Until it sharpens quickly, determination building in her eyes, “We have to go on a date,” she states evenly, matter-of-factly.

“Does that make it official?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Rosie shrugs, falling back against the arm of the sofa casually, a wicked grin splitting her lips, “But you’re taking me out,” she warns.

Hope’s brow furrows at the declaration, the surety of it, “What? Why?”

“You started this, now it’s your problem,” Rosie smirks as Hope frowns, her eyes narrowing into a glare in the dark of the flat.

“You’re the absolute worst.”

“Says the one taking me on a date,” Rosie wiggles in her spot, falling back further and slipping her feet into Hope’s lap, Hope harrumphing and shoving them off with a scowl, much to Rosie’s amusement.

---

Hope drags Rosie out to a cafe in the morning, grinning the entire time she avoids telling Rosie where they’re even going, laughing at all of Rosie’s off-base guesses and humming ‘warmer’ when she gets something right.

She holds Rosie’s hand the entire time, occasionally swinging their interlocked digits between them or fiddling with Rosie’s fingers, as if they’re the most fascinating thing Hope can conceive of. And maybe they are. Maybe the way their hands fit together is strange, maybe the way they’re so close in size is odd, maybe the way Rosie squeezes her hand or traces circles along her knuckles idly is puzzling.

She pulls Rosie to a stop at the mouth of an alley, earning a confused expression in turn as Rosie looks around, “What are we doing here?” she spins in a slow circle, taking in the desolate street around them, a backroad with a small boutique, a pawn shop, and an auto body place. “Are you going to mug me?” she asks with twisted lips when she faces Hope again.

A laugh bubbles out of Hope and she swats at Rosie’s arm, a pleased smile curving Rosie’s mouth. “No!” Hope chastises, before pausing, her jaw clamping shut. “Close your eyes,” she demands a beat later.

“Okay, you’re definitely mugging me.”

“Just do it,” Hope whines. “Please?” she smiles, sweet as candy, Rosie immediately giving in with a roll of her eyes. “Perfect,” Hope squeezes Rosie’s hand tight, gently tugging her further into the alley.

“This is a very elaborate ruse to mug me, you know,” Rosie comments, eyes still squeezed shut, a hand on her lower back leading her.

Hope huffs exasperatedly, “Would you stop it?”

“Just saying. You already know where I live and when I have work, you don’t have to mug me.”

“Stop it or I really am gonna mug you.”

Rosie grins victoriously, reveling in the way she doesn’t even have to see Hope’s face to know how irritated she is, that she can tell from voice alone, “Knew it.”

“Shut. Up,” Hope’s teeth are gritted as she glares at Rosie with her dopey smile and closed eyes.

“Fine, fine,” Rosie concedes, “Just leave my money alone.”

“Just your money?”

Rosie faces Hope regardless of sight, “What’s that meant to mean? You want my phone, too?”

“Just checking if you’re available then,” Hope teases playfully, still gently leading.

Rosie pauses to consider, “Depends,” she finally lands on.

“On what?” Hope challenges.

“What you want out of me,” Rosie answers carefully, “I’m not mugging people with you.”

Hope barely suppresses an eye roll, “You’re the worst.”

“Aw, you really care,” Rosie coos, her hands clasping above her heart dramatically.

“I care about your money.”

Another victorious smile, “Knew it. Golddigger.”

“Arsehole.”

“Says the mugger.”

A sigh’s Rosie’s only response as they come to a stop somewhere, Hope’s arms draping around Rosie’s shoulders and her lips pecking Rosie’s. Her hands instinctively land on Hope’s hips, “Okay, open your eyes,” Hope hums.

Rosie obliges, blinking a few times to adjust to the sunlight, smiling down at Hope as her vision clears. “This it? Lotta theatrics. Coulda just stayed in for this view,” she teases.

Hope shakes her head exasperatedly, but it’s not enough to hide the smile on her lips, “Look around.”

She does, lifting her head away from Hope and finding them on a busier street the alley emptied onto. There’s a little café right in front of her, somewhat secluded from the rest of the street, with fogged windows and blurs of colour inside. No one’s moving in or out of the building, and it’s small enough that only a few patrons could possibly be inside.

Rosie’s eyes fall back to Hope and her smile, “What is this place?” she asks softly, bewonderment lessening the edge of her tongue at the quiet little escape she’s been led to.

“My favourite café. It’s really small and has the same regulars and everyone’s super nice and wonderful.” Hope bites her lip, as if she’s hesitating or nervous about something, “I found it after the show, when there was so much attention everywhere I went, and no one even knew me, so I started coming all the time.”

Rosie nods along, staring into Hope’s eyes intently to ground her, to show she understands. And she really does. She understands how hard it was with the editing and the pressure of the show. She understands how bad the backlash online was at times, when people would shit on them for anything. She understands how necessary it was to find a place to withdraw, to have people that didn’t care and just let her continue on with her job.

“Well, let’s go,” Hope’s arms retract from around Rosie’s shoulders, hands sliding down to grip Rosie’s and pull her along to the café. She swings the door open with a grin, a bell ringing above their heads. Not a single patron glances their way, most typing away at laptops or scrolling their phones as they sip drinks and slowly pick at food.

Only an employee takes notice, waving at Hope with a welcoming smile as he wipes down a countertop. She gently leads Rosie to the till, immediately falling into a conversation with the man as Rosie scans the menu and the shop. There’s booths on one wall, most empty, small tables filling the front, and a mural of different climates and natural environments on the wall opposite the booths.

“What do you want?” Hope asks, turning to Rosie as the employee stands waiting, his hands on his hips and a slight smile curling his mouth.

She smiles back before glancing at the menu and the dozens of items written across it. “Um,” her eyes scan over drink after drink, the letters whirring together. “Iced vanilla latte for now?” she tries, meeting the employees eyes.

“Ooh, me too!” Hope chimes, squeezing Rosie’s hand excitedly.

The employee - Chris, on his name tag - smiles even brighter, “Coming right up.”

Hope tugs Rosie away before Chris has even turned all the way around, pulling her along to a booth and collapsing into one side. Rosie follows, settling across from her, their hands still loosely linked together on the table, Hope’s thumb tracing the lines of Rosie’s palm.

Something sparks in the back of Rosie’s mind at the contact, in the pit of her stomach, in the thump of her heart, and she can’t quite place it, but she knows she likes it. She knows she likes this moment, too, the way Hope looks so at ease and relaxed, the way Hope brought her to her hidden spot, the way Hope tried to make breakfast before opting for the café. She likes the way this is going, they way they work together, even from before they realised there was something more to them than platonic movie nights. She likes how casual it was, how easy it came about, how relaxed she is as long as Hope’s there.

And she likes the way they just fit. They fit like one another’s other half, their perfect match, the missing pieces in the puzzles that construct their lives. And she can see herself sacrificing things for the woman sitting across from her, can see herself working for this relationship and all its inevitable flaws, can see herself in this moment forever, without a doubt in her mind. And Rosie doesn’t do things she can’t see, can’t envision, can’t rationalise.

But she can see Hope’s smile, can envision countless Sunday mornings spent at this little café, can rationalise the way her heart flutters at every laugh. This makes perfect sense, every detail and every second is reasonable and real and means so much more than Rosie ever thought they’d mean.

#litg fanfic #litg hope #litg noah #hdn #hopefully this shuts the gremlin up #that bastard #but deadass that anons a genius #id also like to make it very clear that i have no problem with noah he seems chill its just hard to write a breakup without making someone #seem like the bad guy #yknow?

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 13: Paper And Ink]

A/N: Can I just take a second to say how happy I am to see all of your reactions to my little fic?! I have never been a super popular writer on Tumblr but I like to think that I have some of the cleverest, kindest, most thoughtful readers around. Your support for and emotional investment in my stories makes me so, so, so happy. Please enjoy this latest chapter...it’s the longest one yet! 💜

Also, MAJOR shout out to @writerxinthedark​ and her constant insanely astute observations!! Girl, I’m shook. Do you have ESP or what...? 👀

Chapter summary: Roger tries to reach a compromise, John tries to offer solace, Chrissie tries out some retro science, Y/N tries to process some alarming new information.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language! Discussion of substance abuse! Babies! Drama! Angst!!!

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​ @hardyshoe​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @sevenseasofcats​ @tensecondvacation​ @queen-crue​ @jennyggggrrr​ @madeinheavxn​ @whatgoeson-itslate​ @brianssixpence​ @simonedk​ @herewegoagainniall​ @stardust-killer-queen​ @anotheronewritesthedust1​ @pomjompish​ @writerxinthedark​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

“You can’t leave,” John pleads. One of his hands—strong, nimble, a gold band on his wedding finger—is clutching the wooden bedpost. Chrissie paces back and forth beside him, gnawing her thumbnail until it bleeds, silent tears streaking down her ruddy cheeks.

You throw your open suitcase onto the bed and start yanking things out of drawers: panties and bras—the practical ones, not the sexy ones, I won’t be needing those in the immediate future—jeans, velvet dresses, sweaters, socks, mittens, scarves. It’ll be cold in Boston. “I’m going home.”

“Love, please...” Chrissie sobs.

“I’m not staying here.” Your voice is surprisingly steady, resolved even. “I’m not going to stay in this house with him. I’m not going to follow him around the world watching him fuck other women and humiliate me in tabloids. I’m done, I’m going home.”

“You have a contract with the record company, you’re the tour nurse!” Chrissie protests. “Jesus christ, they could sue you for non-performance! When does the band leave, a week from now?!”

“Six days,” John says softly.

“Six days!” Chrissie shouts at you.

“I’m not going. They can sue me, that’s fine.” I don’t have any money anyway. None that’s actually mine.

“You can’t leave,” John says again. His greyish eyes are wide and restless, desperate; you didn’t know it was possible for him to be this agitated. He’s not Queen’s unflappable bassist today.

“Yeah? Observe.” You pick the pink conch shell up off the dresser—the one John found for you on the beach in Ostia, during a tour that feels like a lifetime ago—and tuck it gently into a corner of your suitcase where it will be cushioned by knit sweaters. “John, I have a bunch of your sketches downstairs. There’re some on the refrigerator, some framed in the living room, a couple on the dining room walls...will you go get those for me, please? I can’t leave without them.”

John just stares at you, blinking and thunderstruck.

Next to the empty space on the dresser where the conch shell once lived is the Canon F-1. You consider the camera for a moment, then snatch it up and move to hurl it out of the second-story window.

John jolts out of his paralysis. “No no no no, I think you’ll regret that.” He gently pries the Canon out of your grasp and places it back on the dresser.

“What the hell are you going to do in Boston?!” Chrissie wails. “All your friends are here now! Your life is here!”

“I’m going to get a job at the hospital and marry some boring, predictable man and get a house with a white picket fence and fill it with two exceptionally average children”—if I can have them, and that’s a big if as it turns out—“and a golden retriever and live out the rest of my days in blissful, prosaic anonymity. Thanks for asking.”

“Oh come on, you don’t want that!” Chrissie snaps. “You’ve never wanted that, that’s why you came to London with the band to begin with!”

“I don’t want to feel like this!” you scream, and all those tears you didn’t know you were biting back start spilling out in hot, torrential streams. Your breath hitches; your throat burns. Like wildfire. John pulls you to his chest, murmurs that everything will be okay, cradles the back of your head with his palm. You know he’s exchanging a glance with Chrissie over your shoulder. That’s why she brought him here, after all; to help talk you off the ledge, to help convince you to stay.

“What a fucking mess,” Chrissie says in despair.

“It’s my fault,” you choke out.

“It’s not,” John whispers.

“It is,” you insist bitterly, sobbing into him. “Everyone warned me and I ignored it because I’m a complete idiot and now I’ve gone and ruined my life.”

“You don’t have to go!” Chrissie implores. “You can stay here. With us, with me and John and Mary and Freddie and Brian. You have British citizenship, you can get a job at a hospital in London if you really want to leave the band. You can stay with me and Bri for as long as you need to until you’re back on your feet, or with Freddie...they’d give you any amount of money you needed to get started...they’d be heartbroken if you left, love, you’ve been there for them through everything, since Queen was just a bunch of nobodies, since we were all flat broke...they’re never going to forget that loyalty you showed them, that faith. They’d do anything to repay you.”

You sigh shakily as you untangle yourself from John and wipe your eyes. “If I stay here, I’ll spend the rest of my life dodging Roger at birthday parties and holidays and restaurants. And being known as the wife he fucked around on. I’ll be a pitiful mess of a person. They had a photo of me in the News Of The World, did you know that? A tiny little circular photo under a huge, glamorous one of Dominique. ‘Look everyone, check out the dashing rock star’s sad, pathetic, unremarkable, soon-to-be-ex-wife. Surely you can appreciate why he’d shop around.’”

“Yes, I saw that part,” Chrissie says softly. She understands some of what you’re feeling, surely, and yet she must also have a sensation of gratefulness; plenty of musicians wander like tornadoes, touching down and sowing chaos wherever their compulsions take them, but few wives have the misfortune of seeing their names and faces paraded through the tabloids. Suddenly, Chrissie isn’t the most-wronged wife in Queen anymore.

You bury your face in your hands. “Oh god. My parents might even hear about this. They could be buying wine and Cheetos at the grocery store and see my husband and his girlfriend on the cover of a magazine in the checkout line.”

“I’m so sorry,” Chrissie replies, her voice hoarse. John crosses his arms over his chest and says nothing; but he kicks the wooden bedframe hard enough to send a crack down the center of the footboard.

Downstairs, you hear the front door open. Chrissie and John whirl to you, panicked.

“Hey, love of my life!” Roger’s chipper voice vaults up the staircase. Someone hasn’t checked the headlines yet. “Baby? You home?”

“Do you want me to stay?” John asks you.

“No, I can handle it.”

“Are you sure? Because I’ll stay for as long as you want me to. I’ll hide in the goddamn bushes outside the window if that would be helpful.”

“No, John.” You smile and climb onto your toes to wrap your arms around the back of his neck, to hug him goodbye. He’s warm and comfortable and sheltering. He feels more like home than this house ever has, isn’t that strange? And for a second, just one, you wonder what your life would look like if there had been no Veronica, no Roger.

You’d still be in Boston, you idiot, you chastise yourself. You never would have come to London with Queen if it wasn’t for Roger. And You’re My Best Friend wasn’t about you.

“Thank you,” you tell John. “But I have to do this part myself.”

“Okay. Don’t you dare go cart yourself off to Heathrow without telling me first, alright?”

“Sure,” you say, not meaning it. I can’t let him stop me.

“Good luck,” Chrissie frets, wringing her hands, twirling her wedding ring. “Call me, okay? I’m going to be a nervous wreck until I hear from you. I’ll chew my poor fingers to the bone.”

“I’ll call. I promise.”

“Hey baby!” Roger materializes in the bedroom doorway, pushes his prescription sunglasses up into his windswept blond hair, peers around the room at you and John and Chrissie. And you’re suddenly reminded of how a room changes when Roger walks into it, how everything shifts somehow, becomes brighter, more alive, brimming with magnificent potential; how cavernously empty the world would feel without him in it. Chrissie glares at him with her arms crossed, nostrils flaring, tapping one fashionable riding boot against the hardwood floor. “Uhhhh...am I interrupting something?”

“Bye, love.” Chrissie kisses you quickly on each cheek and breezes out of the room. You hear her boots clopping as she descends down the staircase. After a moment, John follows her.

“You despicable prick,” John hisses as he passes Roger in the doorway.

Roger is mystified. “Baby, what’s going on?” His eyes flick to the hastily packed suitcase, to the cracked footboard. “What the fuck happened to the bed?”

There are so many ways to ask the same question. When did you decide that you needed to have her? Who is she to you? How could you do this to me? What did she give you that I couldn’t? Instead, what you ask him this: “Have you seen the News Of The World today?”

His brow furrows into deep grooves. “No...” But something primal flashes in his vivid blue eyes, just briefly. Something like fear. He knows he’s done things that would hurt me. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to unearth them all.

You grab the magazine off the bed and hurl it at him. Roger picks it up off the floor and flips to the front page. His shoulders slump, one hand comes up to cover his mouth, he exhales in a deep sigh; his whole body shifts the same way a room does when he walks out of it: dims, deflates, goes bloodless. He calmly lays the News Of The World on the dresser, folds his sunglasses and sets them down as well, rubs his eyes with the heels of his calloused hands. Then he turns to you.

He’s going to deny it, you think, revolted. He’s going to deny it just like Brian did, try to patch things up in some weak and gutless way, placate me so he can drift off to sleep at night imagining he’s a good husband.  

But Roger isn’t Brian. He never has been.

He asks you quietly, in surrender: “What do you want to know?”

Your stomach plunges into freefall, because this is real. Maybe there was some part of me that was hoping this was a mistake, some naïve and hopeful sliver of idealism left over from childhood, from a time when everything in the world was either good or evil and nothing lived in the treacherous shadows in between. “How long?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, Roger, it matters.”

“Not long.” He waves a hand glibly. “She...ah...well she thought I was pretty maddening at first. It took her a while to come around to the idea.”

You flinch like you’ve been slapped. “Jesus christ, Roger. Thank you, that’s great, thank you for that information.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” he protests, exasperated. “I’m really not, I don’t...I just don’t...bloody hell, I don’t know how to do this.”

“To do what? To fuck around?! Obviously that’s inaccurate—”

“No, to confess!” he shouts. “I never confess, I never admit it, I just avoid or deflect or deny it, and when that doesn’t work anymore I just walk out because usually I don’t care enough to have the conversation. But now I do so I’m really, really trying to give you what you want. I thought you wanted answers. So ask me whatever you want to and I’ll tell you the truth.”

Everyone lies. Everyone disappoints you. I knew that, I really did...but somehow I let him convince me that I didn’t. That he was built of nothing but light. “Do you love her?”

“No,” he replies instantly. “It’s a fling, that’s all.”

“So you didn’t corner her somewhere and tell her that you’re planning on breaking up with me.”

Roger winces. I wasn’t going to end up like Josephine, that was the first promise I made to myself on British soil. And look where I am now. “No. Never.”

“Why, Roger?”

He looks away, runs his hands through his hair; he genuinely doesn’t know how to answer.

You stare at him in disbelief. “Are you even sorry...?”

He speaks carefully, purposefully. “I’m sorry you had to find out, that you were hurt by it. And I’m really fucking sorry about that headline. Discretion is extremely important to me. I never would have let that happen, but you know...” He shrugs, smirking guiltily in that disarmingly bewitching way that he does. Stop, you warn yourself, feeling something in you grasping for reasons to stay. “I haven’t been thinking especially clearly lately.”

“Yes, between the coke and the drinking and the pills you’re quite the disaster, aren’t you?” Scalding tears slither down your face. “So you’re not sorry you did it. You’re not sorry that you’re an addict or a cheater.”

“It’s not about that. It’s...” He searches for the words like premonitions in tea leaves. “Yes, there are drugs and parties and women. There are a lot of those things. But I’m not addicted to any of them. I’m addicted to being Roger Taylor, drummer of one of the best bands in the world. It’s everything I am, it’s everything I’ve ever wanted to be. I never want to live in a world where that’s not who I am anymore. You understand that, what it’s like to feel caged and miserable, you know what it’s like to want to experience things. And so if it takes coke and pills to get up on that stage every night and drum under those blinding lights until it feels like my arm is split open again, okay, no problem, I’ll do it. If women are a part of the lifestyle, a part of being free, then I’ll take advantage of that. And why the fuck does it matter? Why do so many people think that fidelity is the ultimate manifestation of love? Plenty of faithful people hate each other. Plenty of people who screw around are irretrievably in love with one person, are fucking owned by them. I love you. I want to come home to you. I want to raise my children with you if that’s a possibility, and if it’s not then fine, whatever, I’m gonna love you all the same. You’re still on my list, Boston babe. You’re always going to be on my list. Why isn’t that enough?”

“John doesn’t cheat,” you object helplessly. Even if he has all the reasons in the world to.

“No, he doesn’t. But he’s a very different kind of man. A better one, probably. But you’ve always known who I was. And I never promised you an ordinary life.”

You shake your head, hide your face in your hands, can’t force the words to leave your trembling lips. It’s not enough for me. Maybe I thought it could be, but it’s just not.

Roger says, gently: “I know we said the marriage didn’t mean anything”—yes, that was your condition, wasn’t it?—“but that’s not completely true. It’s not just paper and ink. It does mean something. It means that you’re the person I want to take care of, the person I can rely on to provide for my family and friends if something ever happened to me. It means that I love and trust you in a way that is unconditional. That you’re my best friend.”

“I don’t want to live like this, Roger,” you whisper.

“So what’s next?” he demands. “So you’re going to take that suitcase and run back to the States and...what, get a job at the same hospital you were so desperate to escape from? Back out of the tour? Abandon the band and the friends you have here?”

“If that’s what it takes to get away from you.”

For the first time, you hurt him; you really hurt him. You see it ripple across his face like cold, swirling ocean waves. “Please don’t leave.”

“I’ve already decided, Roger.”

“Come on, baby, please, we can work this out—”

“I’m not interested.” You zip the suitcase closed, heave it off the bed, and drag it towards the door.

“So even if we can’t work it out,” Roger erupts, bolting to the doorway, to stand between you and whatever a life after him looks like. “Don’t leave the band. Leave me, just me, but not the band. I know you don’t want to leave them. I know they’ll be devastated if you disappear, not to mention they might legitimately murder me over it. Bri can be a twat, sure, but he’s convinced you saved his life. You and I might be the only people on the whole fucking planet who can see how brilliant John is, who understand him. Freddie’s convinced you’re some kind of good luck charm, you know how superstitious he is, he’ll start having those meltdowns again where he insists he can’t sing five minutes before a show and that the band is doomed, the tour will be a complete disaster. We need you. And I want you to keep the job you love, the travel, the mansion, the money, I want you to have all of it. You’ve earned it. You shouldn’t lose it because of me.”

And as you clutch the handle of your suitcase, your mind dashing from one logistical step to the next—grab my passport and some cash out of the safe, collect all of John’s sketches, call a cab to take me to Heathrow—you start remembering things. But you don’t see them like flashes, like misty reveries, no; you feel them like heat from a roaring fireplace, like Mediterranean pebbles digging into the wrinkled soles of your feet, like the deafening screams of crowds filling the Rainbow Theater, the Hammersmith Odeon, the Apollo, the Budokan, Madison Square Garden. Memories of excavating shards of glass from John’s hand in a New Orleans mansion crawling with fantasies and nightmares, of toasting pink champagne in the lobby of the Chelsea Register Office, of museums and parks and beaches and apartments filled with threadbare couches and extravagant dreams, of Christmases and New Year’s Eves, of Roger convincing you to come to London with Queen on a June morning in 1974, cradling your face in his rough hands, promising you everything you’ve ever wanted: ‘Love...Accept. The fucking. Offer.’ And you could run to the other side of the world, sure; but you’re never going to be able to carve those memories out of your bones.

You let go of the suitcase, and Roger’s smile lights up his face like the sun.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Careful...careful, love...” Roger contorts himself to keep the umbrella over you and the Boston cream pie you’re carrying as rain pours out of a sinister grey sky. You both hurry beneath the roof that covers the front porch and ring the doorbell. Freddie answers wearing a tight green shirt, jeans, and an enormous toothy grin.

“Oh, for me?” he squeals, eyeing the pie.

You step inside as Roger stays out on the porch to shake off the umbrella and finish his cigarette; Chrissie hates people smoking in her house, and one should get what they want on their birthday. “Obviously, it’s for Chris. But I suspect she’ll share.”

Chrissie appears in a blue dress, her wide-set pale eyes alight as she gazes at the pie. “At last! I finally get to try one of these! And yes, Freddie, I’m only going to have the teeniest tiniest piece, so there will be more than enough to go around.” She embraces you and takes the pie. “Is this homemade?! It is, isn’t it?”

“Happy birthday, Chrissie,” you announce with a tired smile. Queen leaves for the News Of The World Tour in two days. You’re leaving with them, to everyone’s palpable relief; Freddie and Brian have never mentioned the headline to you, but they know about it of course. Everybody knows. It’s an elephant in every room, an ancient beast that quakes the floor when it walks.

“I’m going to miss you like crazy,” Chrissie tells you. “I always do.” But she’s a little thankful, too; because spending months away on tour is undoubtedly preferable to a permanent absence, a visibly missing piece like a chip in a tooth.

“I know. I’ll call.”

Roger steps inside the massive Chelsea home. “Happy birthday, Chris!”

She promptly spins away, ignoring him, and ferries the pie off to the kitchen. Freddie wraps an arm around Roger’s shoulder and steers him into the living room where Mary, John, a perpetually pregnant Veronica, and a host of assorted Mullens and Mays are passing the twins around like footballs and chatting over appetizers and tea and cookies. Biscuits, you correct yourself. And the shrimp cocktail are called prawns.

“What did you say your name was?” a middle-aged, rotund, bearded man asks John disinterestedly. “Josh? James?”

“John, actually. I’m the bassist.”

The man frowns as he gobbles down a shrimp. “Oh, how odd, I’ve never even heard of you.”

“Yeah?” Roger pipes as he sails over and claps the man aggressively on the shoulder. “Well let me introduce you. This is John Richard Deacon and he wrote You’re My Best Friend, you’ve heard of that one, right? He learned the electric piano to compose it. Yes, he doesn’t just play bass, he has all sorts of gifts. He’s massively talented. He builds amps and manages finances and can sketch pictures that look like freaking photographs...”

You wander into the kitchen where Chrissie is slicing herself a miniscule portion of Boston cream pie. “Oh fuck it, it’s my birthday. I’m having a proper piece of pie, thighs be damned.” She goes in for a second attempt. “You want any?”

“No, I’m alright. I haven’t been feeling well.”

Her brows knit together in concern. “Not compulsively consuming your own weight in snacks to avoid socializing with strangers? That’s unlike you.”

Well, since you asked, I was feeling even more piggish than usual until I found out my husband was fucking somebody else, and also that the entire country knows about it. “Yeah, weird.”

Brian enters the kitchen. “Oh, pie!”

“You want a piece?” Chrissie asks cheerfully. So they’ve made up somehow. Like they always do, like they always will.

“Yes, absolutely, but I’ll get it myself, love. You go enjoy yourself. It’s your day.”

She beams up at him and journeys out to the living room. You are in no rush to join her. Watching Roger charm the crowd, allowing him to dazzle you, to lull you back into his orbit like the subsidiary moon of a vast, ringed planet...no, you have no stomach for that at all. You pour yourself a glass of red wine and try to swallow without tasting it.

Brian’s doting demeanor evaporates like he’s taken off a mask. He sighs, mixes himself a Vesper, sips it as he leans against the kitchen counter and studies you warily. “How are things?”

“Paradisiacal.” Each night you sleep in the guest room with the blue-grey walls and the seahorse-patterned blankets. Roger tried to give you the main bedroom, still sleeps in a spare room in case you ever decide you want it; but you like that the blue room is smaller, more humble, that it smells like John’s brand of cigarettes, that there is no gaping emptiness where Roger usually is. Roger doesn’t try to talk to you about Dominique. He is attentive, optimistic, easygoing, affectionate; he lights the fireplace in the living room and brings you hot chocolate, he wears the red hat you once knit him every time he leaves the house. But he left the paperwork showing he’d sold the apartment—the ‘London Love Nest,’ isn’t that what the headline called it?—out on the kitchen table where you would see it. You know he’s waiting for you to forgive him, as if that’s an inevitability. And every once in a while you feel a guttural stab of fear that he might be right. Someone puts Hotel California on the record player out in the living room. “Every time I hear this goddamn song I get acid trip flashbacks. I start thinking of sharks for some reason.”

“It reminds me of...” Brian’s gaze goes murky. “Well, of a girl from New Orleans.”

The one from the hot tub. The one with a peach tattooed on her shoulder blade.

“We have a stop there,” you say. “You know, on the tour. We’ll be there for a few nights.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten.”

No, perhaps that’s all he’s been thinking about.

“How are you these days, Bri? Two beautiful children, adoring wife, We Will Rock You becoming a fantastically successful single...your world must seem pretty golden.”

“You’d think so.” He peers out the window where raindrops are clinging to fogged glass and the November skies are illuminated with episodic flashes of lightning like Morse code. At last he says, very softly: “I think I married the wrong person.”

“I think I did too.”

Bri raises his eyebrows and clinks his Vesper against your wine glass. “So we were both right. Fantastic. Cheers.”

You gulp down the rest of your wine, feeling your stomach roil in protest. You pour another glass. Brian drains his Vesper.

“You want me to escort you out there?” Brian asks, gesturing towards the living room. “I’ll happily redirect everyone’s attention towards the twins if you’d like. They’re very convenient conversation starters.”

“No, thanks Bri. You go ahead.”

“Alright. If you insist.” A smile ghosts his lips. “I’m really glad you’re coming with us, love. I’m sure it wasn’t an easy decision. And I’m sure things won’t feel easy for a long time. But Queen wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now get out there before I punch you in your fragile liver.”

Brian laughs, sets his glass in the sink, and disappears into the living room. You stall in the kitchen by yourself. You sip wine, browse through the family photos displayed on the refrigerator, listen to the polite chatter of the guests from a distance. Eventually you venture towards the living room before losing your nerve and veering down the hallway towards the back porch. Outside the rain is falling torrentially, the sky rumbling with thunder. John is sitting on a wooden bench under the roof and smoking as he gazes out into the storm.

“Hey,” he says, sliding over to make room for you on the bench.

You sit down beside him and hold out your hand. He stares at you for a moment, puzzled, before passing you his cigarette. You take one long drag and give it back to him. John blinks at you, stunned.

“That’s extremely bad for you,” he teases.

“So is getting hammered and driving into cop cars.”

He clutches his chest. “Ouch. I felt that in my soul.”

You shove him, chuckling. He points down at your boots. You swing your feet up to rest in his lap, and he lays his left hand on them while he smokes with his right.

“Go ahead,” he says. “I know you might not want to talk about it. That’s fine. But if there’s any baggage you’d like to unburden yourself of, I’m listening.”

I’ve got baggage, all right. I’ve got enough to fill a Boeing 747. “Everyone warned me. Everyone told me it was a terrible idea to fall in love with him. Everyone except you, John. Why is that?”

He’s slow and deliberate when he answers. “I never wanted you to be with someone because...you know...because you thought you should be with them. Because they were the ‘smart’ choice or the ‘safe’ choice or whatever. I wanted you to make your own decisions, whatever those were. I wanted you to be with someone...whoever that was...only because you wanted to be. Because you loved them.”

You nod. “That makes sense, I suppose.”

“I told you once that it didn’t mean anything to someone like Roger when he...you know. When he does what he does. I was telling the truth then, and I’m telling the truth now. I don’t think it meant anything to him. And I don’t know if that kills any of the pain I know you’re feeling, but I hope it does. Because you being in pain is the absolute last thing I’ve ever wanted. Are you angry with me for not trying to change your mind?”

“No,” you say immediately, and you mean it. “Not at all.”

“Good. Because they took away my driver’s license for a year and I’m probably going to need a lot of rides from you.”

You laugh, a brash authentic laugh, and John grins over at you.

Chrissie hauls the sliding glass door open and steps out onto the porch with a frustrated huff. “I know this party is technically for me, but when you’re the mother of infant twins sometimes all you really want is a smoke, a nap, and a bottle of vodka.” She lights a cigarette and plops down into a chair facing the bench.

“How are you, Chris?” What you mean is: Have you screamed much at your husband lately?

“I’m doing pretty well today, actually.”

“Is that because you’re genuinely happy or because you’ve trained yourself not to be sad?”

Chrissie smirks. “You’ll find those feel like the same thing after a while.”

“No, I won’t find out. Because I’m not staying with him.”

“Love...” Chrissie begins.

“I’ll stay in London. I’ll even stay with the band. But I’m not going to stay married to him.”

“Y/N, please, maybe you should think about this,” Chrissie presses. “I know you love him. And I know he makes you wonderfully happy when times are good. Maybe that’s all we can ask for, you know? Wives in our predicament. Maybe we can learn to cherish them when they’re with us, bottle up the magic, store it on a shelf to tide us over until they come back home. No one else is going to light you up the way he does. There’s only one Roger Taylor. Withdrawal from that is going to be hell.”

You glower out into the wind and rain and say nothing.

“And that woman, Dominique Beyrand? I’ve asked around about her, she’s got some husband back in France that she goes home to when she’s not working here. It’s just a fling for her too, it’s nothing serious. I don’t think there was any chance he would have ever considered actually leaving you for her.”

“He bought her an apartment, Chris.”  

“Men do stupid things that don’t mean anything all the time. Isn’t that right, John?”

“Sure,” he offers ungenerously.

You stop yourself before the words tumble recklessly from your lips: Maybe you’re trying to convince yourself more than me, Chrissie. “I’m divorcing him,” you vow quietly.

“Okay,” Chrissie capitulates. “Okay. I’m sorry, love, please forgive me. I only got two hours of sleep, Teddy was crying all night.” She puffs on her cigarette and sighs mournfully. “I hate to say it, and I don’t mean to be insensitive, but I guess it was sort of lucky you never got pregnant. Can you imagine trying to split up when you have children together? Working out custody and finances and holidays, having to pretend like you don’t want to disembowel each other all the bloody time...it would be torture.”

John glares at her, his left hand still on your boots.

“Yeah,” you respond; but now you’re distracted, because you remember the reason why you had been so determined to ignore the phone when Chrissie called to warn you about the News Of The World headline. Because the kitchen phone was right next to the calendar, and the calendar would report in no uncertain terms that your period was due.

When was that? A week ago?

You can’t be late. You’ve never been late.

“Oh god,” you breathe.

“What?” John asks, concerned.

In reply, you lurch off the bench, stumble to the edge of the porch, and vomit red wine into the wet grass like a gush of blood. Chrissie soars to you and rubs your back as you retch into her lawn. “Oh no, you poor thing!”

“John, go away,” you choke out as he approaches. “I’m humiliated, I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“You saw me in a jail cell. I’m staying.”

You turn to look up at them. They read the raw horror and shock in your eyes. John’s jaw falls open and he shakes his head, firmly in denial. You could relate.

Chrissie gasps. “Oh, bloody hell.”

“No fucking way,” you wheeze. “After all this time, after all those months of nothing...”

“You better take a test,” Chrissie says. “Come on, I have a kit upstairs.”

She pulls you to your feet and leads you to her bathroom, deftly avoiding the increasingly intoxicated crowd downstairs. John waits just outside the door as Chrissie rummages around in the closet for the test kit. It’s a contraption that looks like a chemistry set, with a dropper and a test tube and a stand with a mirror. You piss into a paper cup—successfully although not with flying colors—and wash your trembling hands in the sink with a piece of pink soap shaped like a seashell. Then you lay on the cold linoleum floor with a folded towel for a pillow and a bucket within reach. Chrissie trickles a few droplets of urine into the test tube, mixes in the contents of a small plastic vial, and places the test tube in the holder that suspends it above the mirror.

Chrissie explains to John: “If she’s pregnant, the chemicals will form a brown ring in the tube. If there’s no ring, we’re in the clear.”

“How fitting,” you chuckle from the floor, dazedly, cynically. “That would be the only ring I’ve ever gotten.”

It takes two hours. The three of you loiter in the bathroom, Chrissie and John perched on the rim of the enormous garden tub, fidgeting and chitchatting anxiously. They alternate popping downstairs, mingling just long enough to not arouse suspicions, bringing back biscuits and bits of toast that they futility try to coerce you into eating. Chrissie doesn’t like the smell of cigarettes in the house, she never has; but now both she and John are chain smoking as they wait and periodically get up to check the test tube.

“This isn’t real,” you whimper. “This can’t be real, right? There’s no way the universe has this ironic a sense of humor.”

“Wait, something’s happening.” John waves Chrissie over to the test kit. She examines it.

“Love...” Chrissie begins, her voice tentative, her eyes glossy.

“No,” you insist. “No way, no fucking way, I don’t believe this...”

Chrissie turns the kit so you can view it, so you can see what she does reflected in the tiny mirror: a single dark ring that informs you you’re carrying Roger’s child.

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Saving Grace - Part 10

Summary: Steve leaves you and your son to go back to Peggy unaware your pregnant.

Your heartbroken and struggling without Steve until Bucky Barnes steps up to help you out. With you and Bucky growing closer everyday will he be your saving Grace?

A/N- This was meant to be more of a filler part but then ended up at 2000+ words! 😂😂 im not even sure how i feel about this part but here we go! Enjoy 💕

The Wednesday before Bucky and I were planning to head to the cabin, he was called in for a mission that required the whole team so it must have been pretty bad. He promised he would do his best to get back in time so we could still go up there, but i knew we'd just have to let things play out and see what happened.

It was now Friday evening and he still wasn't home, i hadn't heard from him since the Wednesday evening and i just wanted to know he was okay.

At around 10pm i decided to head to bed to try and get some sleep, at least then i wouldn't be constantly worrying about Bucky and the team. Grace was fast asleep in her bassinet beside the bed and Harrison was star-fished on Bucky's side of the bed snoring slightly....I couldn't help but smile at the sight. When I heard a noise from downstairs I shot up in the bed suddenly alert.

"Buck?" I called out quietly so i didnt wake the kids, i knew he'd still hear me even with how quiet i was. When i got no response i made my way out to the hallway looking down over the staircase railing. My heart started racing when i saw two dark figures moving around down there. I turned and silently rushed back to the bedroom locking the door behind me. I grabbed my cell phone from the bedside cabinet and called 911 as i rushed to my wardrobe to pull out the lockbox that held our guns.

"911 whats your emergency?" A woman answered my call, i quietly told her what was happening and gave her the address. She advised she would get someone over ASAP. I hung up and dialled the compounds private number hoping someone would answer, maybe they could get here quicker!

"Hello?" A man answered on the third ring, i didn't recognise who it was.

"Hi, this is Y/N Y/L/N...."

"Oh hi Y/N its Roy, the night guard"

"Shit.... Roy is their anyone there you can send to my house now!?? there's men breaking in.... are any of the team or any SHIELD agents around?"

"Oh.... erm I'm not sure. Stay on the line and i will check real quick".

It felt like he was gone forever when it was only a few seconds.

"Y/N???!"

"Steve??! Oh thank god! There's men breaking in!!"

"What?!!"

"Two of them that i saw. Ive locked myself in the bedroom with the kids"

"Im on my way sweetheart just stay where you are. You have your gun?"

"Yeah, please hurry!" I said hanging up.

I carried Grace's bassinet into the ensuite bathroom and then went and got Harrison and took him in there too.

"Mama what you doing?" He asked sleepily rubbing at his eyes.

"Shhhh baby, i need you to stay in here with Grace and be very quiet okay?"

"Okay" he nodded and sat on the floor beside Grace's bassinet.

"Remember to stay very quiet, and dont come out until i say so" i closed the door and took the time to check my gun over. Oh god, what i would give to have Bucky home right now, he would have taken them out already without breaking a sweat! It had been years since i had retired from the Avenging life, the day i found out i was pregnant with Harrison was my last day on the job. All i was worried about was my kids getting hurt, what if i was too out of practise to defend myself against these intruders..... my internal panic was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. I heard one of the doors open, the guest bedroom probably as that was closest to the stairs..... then the bathroom, Harrison's bedroom and then they stopped outside my room. The door handle jiggled as they tried to open it "over here!" I heard a man say before a loud thump on the door where he was obviously trying to bust the door open.

I stood to the side of the door gun aimed ready to fire when they made it through, because lets face it they would get through eventually!! I clicked off the safety and took some deep breaths trying to calm myself down. Suddenly the door gave way and the first figure stumbled into the dark room looking around, i aimed my gun at his leg and fired.... he yelled and fell to the floor as the bullet hit him in the thigh. The second figure dived at me pushing my arms up so my shot missed him. He knocked the gun from my hands and punched me hard in the face sending me to the floor.

"You okay?" He asked turning to his friend who was  laying on the floor holding his leg.

"No!"

While he was distracted i turned to try and crawl to the where my gun had landed only for him to grab my ankle and pull me away. He reached down trying to grab me by the hair but i twisted round and kicked him away. He stumbled back crashing into the dresser looking surprised that i was fighting back. I rolled to my feet again as he tried to rush me, i dodged him easily suddenly remembering my days training with Nat and Steve. I got a few good hits in before he got a hold of me and threw me into my vanity table where i crashed into the mirror landing in the broken shards of the mirror. The man walked over looking proud of himself and he looked down at me.

"You put up a good fight i give you that" he laughed wiping blood from his split lip "I'm gonna enjoy this"

"Please stop..... why are you doing this?" I asked, Grace started crying in the bathroom and i could hear Harrison shh'n her.

"Well well well, what do we have here huh?" He grinned and started to walk towards the bathroom.

"No!!!!" I screamed and launched myself off the floor diving onto the man "you leave them alone!!" i tried to fight but i could feel the shards of broken mirror digging in various parts of my body. He tossed me aside again giving me a hard punch to the gut winding me and sending me to my knees.

"Get away from them!!" i yelled as he carried on towards the bathroom.

Another figure suddenly charged into the room crashing into the man and sending him flying into the wall so hard he was out cold on impact! I breathed a sigh of relief realising Steve had arrived.

"Y/N!" He fell to his knee's beside me "are you okay?"

"There's another guy, i shot him in the leg...."

"Looks like he bled out sweetheart"

"Check on the kids" i said pointing at the bathroom hearing Grace screaming "i dont want Harrison seeing me like this...."

"Okay" he nodded and walked over to the bathroom opening the door.

"Hey pal" i heard Steve say to Harrison "you doing okay in here?"

"Where's mama...."

"Im okay baby, just stay in there with your dad for me for a minute okay?"

"Hi sweet girl, your okay.... sshhh" i could hear Steve as he cradled Grace.

"Police department!" I suddenly heard someone yell from downstairs......great timing!!

"I still think you should have gone to the hospital Y/N or at least to the compound. See Dr Cho" Steve said as he pulled another piece of broken mirror from my back. The police had taken the body of the man i shot and arrested the surviving intruder, i had refused to go to the hospital though.... id had worse than this before.

"Im okay, its not serious. Looks worse than it is" i said holding a towel full of ice to my face.

"Some of these are pretty deep, their gonna need stitches...."

"Then stitch them up!" I snapped at him "god Steve, its not like it would be the first time!"

"Your right it wouldn't, but we were in the field with no option but for me to stitch you up! Now we can get you proper medical care!"

I dropped my face into my hands as i began to cry, i couldn't hold it in any more. The adrenaline was wearing off and now the shock was setting in.

"I just want Bucky" i sobbed, i felt Steve tense up at the mention of Bucky's name before he carefully wrapped his arms around me.

"I know sweetheart, i've tried calling him and the rest of the team. I left a message"

"Where are the kids?"

"In Harrisons room, Grace is sleeping and Harrison was watching cartoons"

"I dont know what i would have done if they had been hurt!.... if you hadnt of showed up when you did Steve...."

"Dont think about that, i did show up and they are fine!" He said with a smile wiping my tears away with his thumbs.

"Thank you Steve, i mean it"

"You dont need to thank me sweetheart"

"Y/N!!!" I heard Bucky's frantic voice yell before his thundering footsteps on the stairs.

"Bucky" i sighed in relief. Within seconds he was in the room and pulling me into his arms, Wanda and Sam appearing seconds behind him.

"Ow Buck careful" i said wincing as his arm pressed into one of the shards still in my back.

"Doll why aren't you at the hospital!?"

"She refused to let me take her, you know how stubborn she can be" Steve rolled his eyes.

"Id be fine if you'd stop bitching and just stitch me up!"

"Okay come on, let me take a look. Wanda, can you check on the kids please?"

"Their fine Buck i made sure...." Steve started to say but she turned and went anyway.

"You wanna fill me in on what happened here?" Sam said to Steve looking pissed.

"Sure".

Once in the bathroom Bucky carefully removed my tank top to get a better look at my wounds.

"Baby some of these are really bad...."

Bucky said as his fingers gently traced over my back.

"Just do it Buck, I'm not going to the hospital! I can take it"

"Okay" he sighed pressing a kiss to my bare shoulder. Bucky spent the next 15 minutes or so pulling shards of mirror from my back and some in my left arm. He stitched one pretty deep wound, the rest he just cleaned and covered with bandages. Once he was done he wrapped me in his arms holding me close.

"I was so scared Buck" i mumbled against his chest "i just wanted you. I knew if you were here we'd be fine"

"I know doll, me too. When i got that message from Steve...." he shook his head "i could have lost you today, you and the kids.... i could have lost my family"

"You didn't though, we're fine"

"Your not fine! look at what that son of a bitch did to you!"

"It could have been a lot worse, i got lucky. I never thought id be so happy to see Steve again..... the guy was going for the kids Bucky and i couldn't stop him.....Steve just came out of nowhere"

"Im sure you did everything you could baby"

"I tried, but the truth is I'm out of practice. I haven't been in a fight or even picked up a gun since i found out i was pregnant with Harrison"

"You did good!" Bucky smiled leaning down and gently kissing me, i hissed slightly feeling the sting of the split lip from the punch id received and he quickly apologised.

"Guess this puts a stop to our weekend at the cabin huh? I cant even kiss you!" I moaned.

"We'll go as soon as you feel better i promise, we've waited this long right?"

"I guess so, i was just really looking forward to it"

"Oh me too! But i can wait".

Saving Grace tags: @jennmurawski13 @kenzieam

@captainchrisstan @s-t-r-i-k-e-us @lets--be-honest

@ms-betsy-fangirl @damnaged-princess

@farfromtommy @disneylovingal @lbuck121

@billweasleey @rynabarnesrogers

@heathens-takeitsl0w @lacontroller1991

@supervengerslock @barnesandrogersworld

@mariswritingforfun @perpetually-tuned-out

@thummbelina @marvelousstyles @broco8

@ineffableg-irl @ilovesupersoldiers

@writeroutoftime

#bucky x reader #steve x reader #sebastian stan #chris evans #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #winter soldier #captain america #reader insert #saving grace

[itsbebachan]

Unfortunate Soul Chapter 3

Hey sweeties, first I want to thank all of those that have given me kudos and shown your love for my little fic. I am truly touch, it let’s me know that there is someone out there that enjoys my writing. I am truly sorry that I’ve been M.I.A. but as you may not know I am a flight attendant, mother and wife which makes it very hard to find time to write. But I promise that I will see this fic to the end. I truly do appreciate that you stay with me on this journey and I will see you guys soon.

Two weeks went by like nothing had ever happened. Katsuki ignored my presence and continued being his usual obnoxiously cool self. It was like the news of being a father meant nothing to him. I couldn’t stand it; it was killing me inside seeing how he just went about his normal life like if he had no care in the world. Tenya was my rock in the days that followed. He never left my side making sure I was okay and had enough to eat. He kept reminding me that I was now eating for two. I still couldn’t find the courage to tell my parents, I was too embarrassed and scared to say anything to them.

As the days went by, I found myself getting weaker and weaker. I had no idea what was happing to me. Tenya and the others were staring to suspect that something was wrong but they never pushed me for information. They believe I would tell them if something was wrong. I was woken up by terrible stomach pains. It felt as if something was trying to rip their way out of me. I started crying uncontrollably begging for the pain to stop. My mom ran into my room almost tearing down the door in the process, dad and Tenya were not too far behind.

“Zuku, honey what’s wrong? Tell me, how can we help?” My mom was crying along with me, I could feel his anxiety and fear and all I wanted to do was hug him and make him feel better.

“Tenya, call the ambulance. Tell them that a Uke might be having a miscarriage” Dad yelled and we all just started at him in shock. Tenya gave me a look saying he was sorry then ran out of my room to make the call leaving alone with my parents. I started crying and yelling even louder as I had no idea how my dad know I was pregnant. I know that my dad worked in the “Angelic Project” so I guess he has some idea of what is happing to me.

“What do you mean a miscarriage? What is going on here?” My mom was freaking out, I could see his concern written all over his face. I tried to tell him, I really tired but the words were stuck in my throat and nothing was coming out.

“Shota, honey. I'm sorry this is happening but our baby has been showing signs of being pregnant for some time now. I know a lot has been happening here at home and I want you to know I’m not blaming you for not noticing.” My dad held my mom in his arms, his cries were too much to bear.

“Toshi, this can’t be! Izuku is such a good boy. We have taught him better; I just can't believe this is happening.” Dad hugged mom so tight all the while cueing in his ear that everything was going to be alright. All the while I just sat there sobbing, feeling my whole world crumbling down.

Tenya walked into my room announcing that the ambulance was on its way. He came to my bedside and held in his arm which helped me calm down long enough so I could explain what was going on to my parents. I breathed in his Seme’s scent of sandalwood and fresh cut grass and centered my thoughts. I could feel my parents growing anxiety and know that now was the time to come clean.

“Mom, Dad. I could never find the right time nor the right words to tell you but I guess the best way to do it is by showing you.” I raised my pajama sleeve to show them my hormonal watch. Those damn word “Pregnant” kept on flashing like some fucking Christmas light. My mom would have fainted if dad wasn’t holding him. I could see pain and concern clearly on their faces and I knew deep down that they were disappointed. My dad was the first to speak.

“Izuku, I need you to start from the beginning and tell us what happened. Who is the father of this child?” He was calm but I can tell that a storm was brewing inside.

“It’s Kacchan, dad. We dated for almost a month. I know that I did wrong and I understand if you want to kick me out but you have to understand, I love him. I love him more than anything but he doesn’t want us and that doesn’t matter because I’m keeping him my baby. He is the only part of Kacchan that I have left.”

I was crying uncontrollably by the end of it. Tenya just kept quietly holding me and let me just let it all out. Mom’s cries were just soft whimpers as my dad’s face just sank. I could see the wheels in his head turning and I was afraid that he would tell me I had to get rid of my son. The room stayed silent for a few more minutes, we could all feel the tension in the air. Finally dad spoke just one word “marriage” at first I thought he meant Kacchan but then realization hit.

“What?” I was confused.

“Izuku. I’ve known for some time now that you were pregnant. I was just hoping that you had more faith in us and told us what was going on. I know all the signs; you're tired all the time, your moody and even your scent has changed. But like I said, I had faith. So to me the logical step would be for you to marry the father of your kid, but as you have just told us that he doesn’t want it then other measures must be taken. I believe it’s time to hire a matchmaker and find you a Seme that will be willing to take your child in, you know that we Semes are very territorial and the idea of our Uke caring another Seme’s child is enraging.”

He was right of course. No Seme is gonna want me, that’s why my mom was so heartbroken. He knew that any chances I had to have a beautiful happy life was gone. I got out of my bed with Tenya’s help and went to my mom, he’s soft whimpers were drawing me in. I knew I had to make this better, I knew I had to make this right.

“Mom, please don’t cry. I know I did wrong but I can’t change what has happened. I need to know that I’m not a disappointment, I need to know that you still love me and want me to be a part of your life. I need you mommy.” I was crying at his feet begging, praying that he would not push me away. I’ve heard awful stories about unwed Ukes that their parents just send them out of their homes with nothing. Mom looks at me with so much sadness in her eyes that just for a second I think he will be kicking me out. He kneed in front of me and grabbed my arms so I was looking at him.

“Zuku, honey. I love you, I could never kick you out. I am disappointed in you honey, I thought that you would know better than to let some punk sweet talk you into anything and of all people Katsuki. I don’t know what to say. This whole situation is not ideal but like your father just mentioned we need to act quickly. You must be married before you start showing, I’ll go and call the matchmaker to bring potential mates folders first thing tomorrow morning. So we can start the preparations at once. I know baby that this is not how you wanted to meet your mate but we are left with no other options.”

He hugged me and we just sat there in my quiet room while the world keep turning and people just went along with their normal lives.

@alovelie @girl2257 @strawberry-panic @0-ddball @monkeyzz-r-ur-bff @dragon-lover-idk @iyemicomic1920 @leynly @otaku-chan-world @jawazia @im-the-villin-in-this-story @itsatomichyena @rainytears2 @nevergrowingup101 @littlelovebug98 @anxiety-ridden-teen

#bnha #boku no hero academia #izuku midoriya #my hero academia #midoriya #manga #anime #anime gif #alpha bakugou katsuki #alpha and omega #bakudeku #fanfic #fiction