#shakes begging tin at yall

[viva-la-fangirl]

Yesterday Part 4

yall got every right to be mad at me. end of the semester was crazy, holidays were crazy and then i jumped right back into my job. BUT I have part 4 here! 

And as always: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

warnings: bad grammar, misspelled words, cursing, mentions of previous abuse

IF YOU ARE HAVING DOMESTIC ABUSE: National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1−800−799−7233

words: 

The next weeks were a blur of anxiety, sleepless nights and paranoia.

Your mind revolved around your ex. His black eyes always raking over you. The feeling of him kicking you in the alley behind the restaurant where you decided to leave him. You begging him to stop.

There were times where you forgot about him. You went about your day and thought of you and Roger. The tour happening. Planning on which cities you would visit.

Then something would take you out of it. A smell, a sound, a tone of voice from someone passing by and it all came rushing back. Your skin crawled at every thought of him. Even with Roger in bed, with his arm protectively wrapping around you- you would lie awake for hours and wonder if your ex was trying to find you. Roger and the boys had been especially diligent about keeping the paparazzi away from you over the past weeks. Roger nearly yelling at anyone who looked at you for a little too long or even tried to attempt to bring out a camera. It made your heart flutter seeing Roger all protective, but it sank just as fast when you remembered the reason why.

“(Y/N)?” Roger asked. It was morning, the sun was barely up and hidden behind thick gray clouds. You refused to tell him you’d been up for at least an hour, two at the most. 

“Yes?”

“Nothing,” Roger mumbled before pushing his face into your neck. His warm breath making your hairs stand up and your body relax. He had been so good recently, not staying out too late, inviting you to band practice and being attentive, ordering food and going out whenever you needed something. 

You hated it.

Well, not totally. Admittedly you liked the extra attention. Usually during an album you were getting less attention than his drumsticks. It was nice to see a different side of Roger. 

But then again. You hated being paranoid. You hated putting Roger out in the middle of recording. You hated being scared to go out. You hated being scared. Secretly, as you would never ever admit this to Roger, but you wished your ex would find you already and hurt you- just enough to put him back in jail. It was an ugly thought that tainted your mind but, being scared just to go to the grocery was killing you. You missed a time when it was only paparazzi to watch out for instead of a man that beat you enough to break some bones.

It felt as if you were in your own personal horror movie. Walking around just waiting for the boogyman to jump and get ya. 

You laid with bed with Roger steadily breathing beside you, one arm draped around you as protection from the world. With one breath you snuggled closer to Roger who pulled you in tighter. At least for the moment you allowed yourself to feel safe.

If only that safe feeling lasted.

It was a cold day when the world dropped from under your feet. You had convinced Roger to finally let you out of the apartment to go for a hair cut. Truthfully you hadn’t been keeping up with your usual hair routine and it showed. Split ends with lack of color made it look greasy and lifeless. No way you could go to the boys concert tonight looking like this!

The wet but crisp air was welcomed. After being shuttled around from place to place for the past couple of weeks, outside felt like a stranger and the air welcomed your presence. Your lungs relished in non-apartment air drenched in remnants of cigarette smoke or cologne Roger loved. 

“You feeling good love?” Beatrice asked. She ran her fingers through your hair, and massaged your head. For a second you forgot where you were, always a sucker for a good head massage. “(Y/N)?” 

“Oh yes!” you brought yourself out of the trance. “Better than I have. Thank you,”

Beatrice was an old and trusted friend of your from your university days. You weren’t the bestest of friends but she was a reliable one and a killer hair stylist. She could make a raccoon look like Cher. 

“Oh love you should have come in weeks ago!” Beatrice fiddled with your hair. “This is absolutely dreadful- sorry darling,”

“No I know,” You admitted. “Can you help me?”

“Of course darling,” Beatrice smacked on her gum. “Might take longer than normal but you’re talking to the master,”

Beatrice went to work right away washing your hair. The next two hours were filled with mindless talking and laughs. Beatrice went on about her sisters tacky wedding and the silk bridesmaids dresses that resembled bubble gum. You told of you and Roger, how tour was starting up soon and they had a local gig just to break the routine. It was the first time you felt normal in weeks.

While the day to day wasn’t bad, the topic of your ex seemed to always linger in the background- just waiting to pounce. While you trusted Beatrice, you know bringing up your ex would welcome a flurry of questions you didn’t want to answer. For just a few hours, you wanted to be a Roger Taylor’s girlfriend getting your hair done. Not some girl who was assaulted by he ex. 

“I think we’re about done sweetie,” Beatrice smiled wide between her purple lipstick. 

You looked in the mirror and couldn’t help but smile. Beatrice had really outdone herself. Your hair gained it’s color back. It looked fresh and healthy. Beatrice had even styled it for tonight.

“Oh Bea,” you fluffed your hair. “I can’t thank you enough,”

“Roger Taylor’s girlfriend deserves the best!” she exclaimed. 

After paying Beatrice and a couple more goodbyes you walked out the door feeling better than you had in weeks. 

Then came his voice.

“Hey (Y/N),” 

You froze. Keys in hand just about to open your car. Your blood ran from your face and immediately turned to ice. You turned to see him standing a few feet away. He looked worse than he did the last time you saw him in court. He had obviously gained weight. His beard was untidy and his hair was greasier than ever with streaks of gray sprinkling the sides. His snake-like eyes ran up and down your body, it was like a rusted knife threatening to pierce the skin. 

“What no hug?” he pouted. 

“You stay away from me Harrison,” you hissed. Blood pumped in your head so loud you couldn’t hear anything besides the words spoken between you and the guy who had beaten you so viciously you couldn’t remember some of that night. 

“Common hon,”

“Don’t call me that,” you wedged a car key between your fingers just encase. “How- how,”

“How did I find you?” Harrison flashed his yellowed teeth. “Humans are creatures of habit. You always went to Beatrice before a big event and with Queen’s gig tonight- I knew it would be a big event for you,

Queen gig. He knew about you and Roger.

Of course he would you idiot. You’re on the front of every tabloid from here to tin-buck-too. 

“You’re a real piece of shit you know that?” Anger took over. How dare this man come back into your life, a life you had overcome so much for, a life you loved with a man you loved. 

“Harsh words coming from someone who was going to marry me,” 

“I was manipulated into loving you. You hurt me. You belittled me. Then when I wanted to leave and said no to your proposal you beat me,”

“A little misunderstanding is all. I mean you could be a little over dramatic,” Harrison gas-lighted. “I lost my temper one time and you throw me in jail. Now how is that fair?”

“You hurt me. That’s not love.”

“And you think you have love now? With that Roger Taylor?” Harrison sneered. He said Roger’s name so grossly like he was thinking of something disgusting. “I mean common- I might have been a little angry but at least I never cheated on you,”

“Roger has never cheated on me,” You yelled as strong as you could. Before you and Roger got together you knew about his flings and girlfriends. Freddie had ranted about another one of Roger’s girlfriend’s flying off the handle after catching him in bed with another women. You knew about his past. 

“I won’t do that to you,” he promised. 

“How do I know that?” you weakly said. Roger had been asking you out consistently for the past 2 weeks. 

“Because...” Roger stopped. “Is saying you’re different too cliche?”

You laughed hardily. “A little,”

“Then call me Romeo because it’s true,” Roger stepped so close you could smell the strawberries you too had shared while watching a movie. “I know I’m not the best man, I fuck up a lot, I’m impulsive, I’m stubborn, I’m-”

“Roger,”

“Oh yeah. But the one thing I’m not is someone who is going to hurt you. After seeing you in that hospital, seeing how someone who claimed to love you could hurt you that badly- well it made me never want to see another tear from your eye,”

You melted and agreed to start seeing Roger. It was a slow processes but worth it. 

“So you ignore the magazines with him and a bunch of girls around him. Basically begging to be fucked by him,” Harrison shouted.

You had seen. It made your stomach turn but above all you trusted Roger. 

“What you and I shared is a fraction of what Roger and I do.” You stood up straighter. “I’m going home now and if I ever see you near me or Roger again I’m going to call the police,” You quickly opened the car and started it. Your hands shaking so much you could barely hold on to the clutch. 

Backing out Harrison peered into your window and with the radio blaring and a ringing in your ears you didn’t hear him say. 

“See you tonight,”

Tagged: sorry if i forgot anyone i’m not the best at this 

@alexfayer @marveley @mrsmazzello @frenchieswiftie  http://leahluhve.tumblr.com/ @yasnooshka24   @anita-e-taylor @benhardycult @jennyggggrrr​

#roger #roger taylor smut #roger taylor #Roger Taylor Queen #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor imagines #ben hardy #ben hardy imagines #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy smut #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy! roger #ben hardy! roger taylor #ben hardy!roger x reader #ben hardy!roger taylor angst #ben hardy! roger taylor imagine #Queen #queen band #queen smut #queen fanfic

[noodlecuppie-blog]

Ugly.

Anime: Assassination Classroom

Author's note: this is a drabble that randomly came to me at like 1 am so i don't really know why i wrote it either. i've been toying with a nagisa x karma story in my head for a while now so this ties a bit into that. in any case hear it is lol not that i think any of yall are gonna read it

***

"You are an ugly girl."

Nagisa sat on the vanity chair, his legs not even long enough for his feet to touch the floor. He stared with wide eyes at his mother's reflection in the mirror, as she slowly combed out his blue hair.

"You're such an ugly, ugly little girl," she smiled, her eyes becoming little, black crescents.

His head struggled to understand the venom in her voice. How her touch could be so gentle and tender, yet send shivers down his spine. Why her sickeningly, sweet smile never seemed to reach her eyes. Why her tone was soft and kind like silk, but the words that came out of her mouth wrapped around his throat and choked all the air out of his lungs.

Why does mom call me an ugly girl?

The comb slid down to his nape, the sound of bristles being raked through his hair making him sick. A repetitive, monotonous action that made him feel like scratching his ears off.

"My, should we try covering up your ugliness with some clips, dear?" she asked with her fingers placed worrriedly against the side of his chin. He dared not say anything. Only grabbed the hem of his dress a little tighter in his small hands, and squeezed his feet a bit more together.

She smiled again. She looked like a snake.

Carefully she pinned his hair back with cutely, decorated clips - pink and pastel with patterns and little fruits and sweets on them. When she was done, she stepped back and examined her work.

Her smile fell, and along with it Nagisa's heart into his shoes.

"Haaaah, what's this?" she sighed. "What a shame..."

She looked at him through the mirror, catching his gaze. He felt his whole body go cold, swallowing his breath down into his stomach where he hid it away. There was something dark in the woman's eyes, something vile and unnerving. She looked at him like he was a rat. He could feel no love in her eyes. Scared. He was terrified.

"It seems you're so ugly that you only put these clips to shame, Nagisa."

The way she said his name made him want to throw up. He wanted run. Run away, run away his head screamed at him but he couldn't move.

Run away before she eats you!

It was as if all the light was drained from her eyes. Before Nagisa could do anything, her sharp nails were already tangled in his neatly brushed hair, digging into his scalp and shaking him by his head like a ragdoll.

No matter how much he cried out or begged or wept or pleaded, she didn't hear him.

"Why are you so ugly Nagisa? So ugly... Why are you such an ugly girl?" she mumbled incoherently to herself, ripping all the pretty clips from his hair, one by one.

"Ugly."

She repeated the word over and over again until she was screaming it into his ears. Her nails hurt. Her hands were so rough. It hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurts.

With a final jerk she threw him onto the floor, panting heavily as she stood frozen for a moment. Nagisa cried, softly and trying to stuff all the broken sobs back into his throat, in a small, crumpled heap on the floor.

He heard her heels furiously head for the door, and heard it slam shut behind her.

Nagisa couldn't recall how long he cried. Maybe it wasn't very long. He simply remembered rubbing the tears from his eyes with his sleeves as he picked up all the pretty, scattered clips on the floor - pulling the snapped, blue strands out of their metal teeth - and putting them back in their little metal tin.

Looking in the mirror, he felt his eyes burn with tears again, rubbing at them again and hoping it would make the feeling go away.

Slowly, with trembling hands that struggled to hold the brushes' handle, he started to comb out his hair again.

"Ugly."

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