#jfc...how can someone still look this hot while covered in blood?
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Shingeki no Kyojin S3E39 || Bloody Levi ↳ “Shit… If this keeps us, I’ll lose my team, Eren and Historia too. Tsk.”
#snkgraphic#snkedit#levi ackerman#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#mineanime#minesnk#anime for ts#mine2k19#jfc...how can someone still look this hot while covered in blood?#i don't understand... what is this sorcery?#first edit of 2019 ofcourse has to be a gifset of my one and only heichou#fuckyeah1k
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Chaotic Neutral
ok so i was gonna write literal angst but then saph and i got on a tangent and this was born so take this Fruity Pebbles+Walgreens crack hybrid
warnings: stab wounds
ship: ralbert
editing: no
“Can you drive me to Walgreens?” Albert asked as he walked out of his room, looking slightly disheveled as he walked out of his and Race’s shared bedroom.
Race glanced up from his place at the kitchen counter, chewing absentmindedly on the eraser of his pencil, “Why?”
Albert shrugged, padding over in his fuzzy socks to lean across the counter, blocking Race from his physics homework, “We’re outta fruity pebbles.”
Race rolled his eyes, “Planning to get high soon?”
Albert shook his head, “No, but I’m thinking of it right now, so I wanna get ‘em while they’re on my mind, ‘cause I’ll forget otherwise,” He paused for a moment, lost in memory, “And you remember what happened the last time I didn’t have fruity pebbles when the munchies hit.”
A dark look washed over Race’s face, “Oh, I remember alright,” he rubbed his elbow subconsciously, “I still have the scar.”
Albert clicked his tongue, “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Anyway, can ya bring me?”
“Sorry, babe,” Race said, shoving Albert off his textbook, “I gotta finish this, but feel free to take my keys if you wanna just take yourself.”
Albert pouted for a moment, “Fine, but it’s no fun without you.”
Race didn’t grace him with pity as he focused back in on his assignment, “Suffer.”
Albert huffed again, “Ugh, okay, I’ll be back.”
“Pick me up some lactaid,” Race called as Albert shoved his socked feet into a pair of Race’s slides.
“Yep,” Albert shouted over his shoulder as he left the apartment, making his way down to Race’s car.
What should have been a ten minute ride turned into twenty five minutes due to traffic, but eventually Albert arrived at the Walgreens off campus. He trudged inside, hyper aware of the fact that he looked like some sort of college student-hobo hybrid with his bright red fuzzy socks and slightly-too-small sweatshirt.
He scanned the cereal aisles, letting out a quiet, ‘aha’, as he located the fruity pebbles, taking several off of the shelf to stock up. Frantic whispers from the aisle beside him piqued his curiosity and he shifted closer in order to listen. He couldn’t make out what the voices were saying, but in his peripheral, he could see two rather burly men huddled against the wall, shoving armfuls of varying items into one of their backpacks. Blanching as he realized what was happening, Albert considered his options. He could casually slip out of the aisle and pretend he never saw anything, or-
“Hey,” He heard himself bark, instantly regretting his decision as the two men’s heads whipped up, fury and confusion glinting in their eyes, “What do you think you’re doing?” Albert bit his tongue, willing himself to shut up as the guys processed his words.
Albert took an involuntary step back as one of the two men crossed over to him, “You didn’t see nothin’, princess,” He snarled, the smell of cigarettes hot on his breath, “Move it along and no one gets hurt.”
Albert couldn’t help the scoff that escaped his throat, “Wow, real threatening,” he drawled, “I feel so threatened right now. C’mon, shoplifting a Walgreens? Seriously? I mean-”
He cut himself off with a gasp as he felt a sharp, almost nauseating pain grip his gut. He looked down, open-mouthed in shock as he watched the knife the guy had stabbed into him leave his body.
A wave of dizziness washed over him as his knees buckled and he managed weakly, “There are security cameras, you know.”
The men exchanged alarmed glances, before stumbling around each other to grab the backpack.
“Yeah, bet you didn’t think of that,” Albert managed around the ever growing pain in his abdomen, “Dummies.” he added for good measure.
The men ran out of the aisle, only to be stopped by one of the employees, who must have heard the commotion. Or seen Albert get stabbed on the security footage. Albert didn’t have the energy to question which. He rested his head on the shelf behind him, closing his eyes briefly, before standing up.
“Sir, I don’t think-” He hadn’t even noticed the other store clerk, hovering worriedly near him.
He waved a hand, cutting her off, “S’fine,” he mumbled, “I’ll be chill.”
“An ambulance is on its way-”
“Where’s your first aid aisle?” Albert asked, pitching to the side slightly.
The clerk raised her eyebrows, “Excuse me?”
“You’re first aid stuff, like, band-aids and shit.”
“Sir, I-”
“Ma’am, please,” Albert groaned, “This ain’t my first rodeo, I’m fine, just tell me where the goddamn bandages are.”
The clerk looked taken aback, but she pointed to an aisle diagonal from the one they were in nonetheless, “Uh, that one.”
“Thanks,” Albert mumbled, turning and staggering towards the first aid materials. He blearily squinted at the shelves, haphazardly plucking a few bandage packs, as well as some gauze pads from the wall. He grabbed a bottle of antiseptic from one of the higher shelves, then sat himself down on the carpeted floor and lifted his shirt, working with shaky hands to inspect the stab wound. It was fairly deep considering and blood was flowing out weakly with each beat of his heart. If he were in a better state, he probably would have been freaked out by the image. Instead, he clumsily tore off a chunk of his already ripped t-shirt and soaked it in some of the antiseptic.
He gingerly pressed the cloth to the wound, hissing in pain as the alcohol sent a stinging jolt through his body, making his head light.
Diligently, he cleaned away the blood, then dressed the wound using gauze and bandages, wrapping tightly to ensure the blood would clot. After taking a few steadying breaths, he stood up and pulled a crumpled twenty dollar bill out of his pocket, crossing back over to the store clerk who had been watching him in awed horror.
He handed her the twenty, then stooped down to pick up one of the fallen boxes of fruity pebbles, “Hope that covers everything I used,” he slurred, “Take care.”
He could hear various sirens outside and decided to slip out the side door to avoid any paramedics who might see him in his bloodied state. He hailed a cab, ignoring the frightened stare of the driver as he rattled off his and Race’s address. He zoned out during the ride, only realizing they had arrived when the driver called back to him, demanding his payment. Albert tipped a little extra after discovering the blood stain he’d left on the seat, then made his way up to the apartment.
Realizing belatedly that he’d left his apartment key in Race’s car, which was still in the Walgreens parking lot, he knocked weakly on the door.
Race appeared a moment later, eyes widening as he looked over his boyfriend, “Albert, what the fuck.”
“I got m’fruity pebbles,” Albert said, smiling.
Race shook his head, dumbfounded, “What the hell happened to you- fuck.” He grunted as Albert jerked forward, collapsing unceremoniously into Race’s arms. Race grimaced, hoisting Albert’s arm around his shoulder and leading him to the couch, carefully laying him down the length of the cushions.
Albert leaned to the side, the pain finally catching up to him as he gagged, vomit forcing its way up his throat. Race stepped back as Albert threw up onto the ground, blood intermixing with his sick.
“Albert, Jesus,” Race murmured, worry creasing his eyebrows.
“S’fine,” Albert croaked, gesturing to the bandage around his stomach, “I handled it.”
“Clearly not,” Race said, voice cracking as he frantically waved his hand towards the bloody vomit, “What happened? Actually, nevermind, I don’t wanna know until we get you fixed up.”
“I am fixed up.”
“Properly fixed up, you dumbass ginger fool.”
“Race, Racer,” Albert reached out a hand, latching onto Race’s pant leg.
Race bent down, carding a hand through his boyfriend’s hair, “Yes, love?”
“Are there munchies in heaven, do you think?”
Race blinked, “My god, you’re an idiot. Hospital time, let’s go.”
XXX
“So, let me get this straight,” Race leaned back in the crappy plastic chair he was sitting in, studying Albert as he lay in a hospital bed, finally stable, “You saw some guys shoplifting, so you called them out, then challenged them, then got stabbed, then sassed some poor store clerk, then fucking yeeted over to the first aid aisle, tried to treat yourself, then dipped before an ambulance could get to you?”
Albert bit his lip, “Uh, yeah, basically.”
“Jesus Christ, Albert, you coulda gotten yourself legitimately killed. I mean, good on you for stopping a robbery, but next time an ambulance is called for you, fucking take up that offer, okay?”
Albert groaned, slumping down into his pillows, “But I was fine, Racer!”
“No, you weren’t! You needed a blood transfusion, Albert!” Race closed his eyes, emotion rising in his throat, “Listen, it was really fucking scary seeing you bleeding out on our couch and I really don’t know what I’d do if you were to like, literally die or something, so for the love of god, use your singular fucking brain cell and take care of yourself next time, okay?”
Albert softened, guilt spreading through his body, “Okay, I’m sorry.”
Race stood, walking over to Albert and leaning down to hug him, “It’s okay, I just worry.”
“I know you do,” Albert said, burying his nose in his boyfriend’s hair, “I appreciate your care.”
“I love you, bitchass, you know that?”
“I do,” Albert smiled, “I love you, too,” a pause, “Race, you didn’t happen to bring-”
“Planned ahead,” Race said, pulling the box of fruity pebbles from under his chair.
“I fucking stan you so hard what the fuck.”
“I...stan you, too?”
“You better,” Albert said through a mouth of cereal, “I’m wonderful.”
“Uh huh, sure.”
-
jfc someone literally tell me how al is still alive at this point
thanks for reading, chiefs
hmu to be added to my tag
TAG LIST: @bencookisagod @we-dont-sell-papes @suddenly-im-respecsable
@aw-jus-let-em-try @well-the-kids-do-too @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @thatpoorguysheadisspinning @spec-s-pecs
@andthewoildwillknow @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @sunshine-e-cigarettes
@have-we-got-news-for-you
@musical-shitposts @thebroadwayaesthetic
@thomasbeingthomas
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@and-i-lostmy-shoe
@spot-me50-papes
@honeynutpoptarts
@newsies-ensemble
@bennie-badeend
#newsies fic#newsies#ralbert#racetrack higgins#albert dasilva#chaotic boys#fruity pebbles#yeet#im rlly tired so if this is bad im sorry
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And I'll run in the rain till I'm breathless. (Roger Taylor x Reader)
» Kinda impossible for me to stop writing @[email protected] are two exams, this month and next month, so I have been studying non-stop and jfc I’m burning the hell out. I really wanna write something, so here it is!
Summary: Y/n is part of the underground rock community in London. One day Brian introduces her to Roger and they quickly became a friend. But that doesn't last long; after giving Roger space supposedly reserved for her best friend—y/n get to finally see Roger's true face behind his cool looks.
Pairing: Mr T (Roger Taylor) x Reader.
Warning: Fluff at the end. Maybe a wee bit of angst? Profanity; a lot of profanity (cursing too much ain’t cool, peeps). Smoking (it’s bad for ya).
Word count: 4917.
Inspired by: Fool in the Rain by Led Zeppelin.
Dedicated to and perma-tag: @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark, my new friend that’s instantly clicked with me. <4 <4
Another note: This means what happened currently. Italic means memories in the past. Roger can be either actual Roger from any era the readers like or Ben Hardy’s Roger.
+—-—+—-—+—-—+—-—+—-—+
It’s foolish to think anything is going to work out with another man when your heart lies elsewhere. You wish to cry for him, but you can’t. There’s no reason for it. You don’t feel anything. Despite being his best friend for years, you see Loui as nothing more than a brother. A brother that doesn’t mine slapping you for being honest with him. After you’re accused to almost stood him up when you simply get the address wrong, he stopped you mid dumping him with a slap so true you feel like you’re still dreaming down in the rain. You finally snapped from the mind-bending action you thought he will never do, and quickly take shelter under the bus stop.
“Well. It’s going on three years.” You whispered to yourself. “If he was to do that to me, maybe I would do the same with what Loui did to me.”
Or maybe not. The only one time you hit someone was because you’re already so damn mad, and you’re too drunk to think straight. And it was an accident too, you only try to get him off; because he’s helping you to get up even after you say you can stand on your own. At least that time your feelings for him is still atom level it almost didn’t exist. Perhaps your old self when you start seeing his bad side would never think you’d be like now. Missing him. Somehow. You’ll do the dishes for him, but only two times before you start yelling at him. Like always.
You chuckled in silent as you wipe the water running down your hair. You wonder where he is now. Ever since you date Loui, you had a big fight and you moved out. You heard a couple of things from Brian, but they’re not so important, seeing the nature of the man. That makes you laugh again. He probably already exceed thousandths girlfriend. Maybe he’ll laugh too when his housemate told him to put a sock on the door.
“What’s so funny?”
You looked at a guy sheltering next to you. He’s also drenched. You shrugged.
“I don’t really know, mate. You got housemate still? Do they tell you to raise the flag when you’re shagging a gal? I used to be that housemate. I don’t know why I even bother to tell him. Good times...”
+—-—+—-—+—-—+—-—+—-—+
"I should've not introduced you to him." The man sighed deeply. You could only stare sharply. So bloody sharply that the brunette refuses to look at you until you stopped.
"What makes you think that? I have been painfully average in college anyways." It hurts to say that to the tall Astrophysics boy you have been crushing for so long. But sass is like honey in your blood. You can't help but get addicted.
"Cut your fucking sarcasm for once. It never helps your situation."
"Correct. But it makes it better." Now it's Brian's turn trying to kill you with his eyes. "What am I supposed to do then, Bri? Tried to fucking evict him? Emphasis on "tried"! That arsehole have me kicked out and shunned by my ex-bandmates! I fucking know I sucked at bass and guitar! But they're—."
"Breath..."
You didn't realize you almost throw your coffee cup at him. It still got half of hot coffee in it, and it makes Brian looks perfectly petrified with both of his hands up as if he ask you not to shoot.
"Sorry..."
"I'll talk to Roger. Again..."
The two of you knows it. It'll make no bloody difference; you can't even remember how many times you almost get Roger kicked by the landlady. But Mrs Marianne eventually falls victim to Roger's seduction and as he turned her against you. The last time you could convince her how horribly low maintenance her blonde tenant was, Roger played, hope-fucking-fully, his last trump card and get you voted by your own bandmates, from the band you fucking founded. His sugary victory has you wish you were bald so there'll be no hair you can pull out of frustration. Although the incident this time was that not only he ate your food and didn’t even try to do the dishes, he also blasts his music when you have clearly stated you’re going to study.
At least the silver lining to all this was that every time Roger KO'd you, Brian will give you his time—most likely out of guilt—disguise it as helping you to study. But, 1) his teaching and tips actually help you, and 2) the two of you did studies in the end. So you're not sure whether the lanky guitarist was just so bloody kind, or there could be something else that can be of use for you. That's why you can't really blame him for Roger's case; were you not taking interest with the man with his curly hair, perhaps it'll be long enough for you to secure the space at the house for your best friend—as you originally planned and supposed to do, instead of giving it to the satan-spawn.
A sound of a phone vibrating makes the two of you jumped out of your concentration. Lucky it was Brian's phone. If it was yours, the two of you would've been dead from the damn loud rock music ringtone.
"Your mum?"
"Ha, ha..." He mocked whilst he checked the caller. "Oh, my girlfriend. I'll be back in a minute."
As the man stands up and goes outside to answer the call, and you simply sat there. Your world suddenly destroyed. Almost feels like the café starts crumbling before your eyes, but you can do nothing to stop it. Only to witness and stunned like a helpless heroine in her love story. The warm rustic atmosphere from the café-around-the-corner. A romantic scene, perfect for a date and be with your love. Not so many people around so you can enjoy, now apparently, your heartbroken. You’re not going back here anytime soon, that’s for sure.
"Hey, sorry about that. Chrissie just found out about your fight with Roger and she's very worried about you. She told me to tell you this; you can bunk with us in case Roger is being Roger again."
Brian's sudden presence as he sits down finally snaps you out of your post-apocalyptic perception of the world.
"Chrissie? Chrissie Mullen? She's your girlfriend?"
"Ah, that reminds me, I always forgot to tell you, Loui is her friend."
"I know that! We are friends too for quite a while—."
So that's why Brian always feels so fucking guilty. It's the one-thing-lead-to-another bullshit; Loui talked about how you're quick to eye him to be your housemate. Being Chrissie's friend—Brian's future girlfriend,—he's around Roger when he showed off your loyalty as his best friend, only to have the lights of hope immediately extinguished by the bastard of a drummer on exactly the next fucking week. Brian bloody knew. But he's not a god to see the impending doom.
"Ha. That's funny." Your eyes stare blankly at him for a solid three seconds before your hands start packing your things in your backpack as fast as lightning. But it's no longer the fact that Brian was already taken by none other than your friend, funny enough, you used to crush on too, but the pang of pain in the bottom of your stomach was now caused by his lack of reaction seeing you bursting out of the café. That's the only reason left you needed to change the reason to go to the music club. Now it's to drink.
...
You wish to laugh at the situation like you always do the almost fifty times it happens. But this time, the girl’s scream can’t even faze you as your mind trying to make what is going on. It is clear as day what is going on. The currently naked woman trying to get her clothes whilst Roger looked frustrated but not helping his date.
“Sock on the door, ya cunt.” It’s hard to hide your slur, but currently, nothing can make you care enough. “At least tell me ya be shagging a gal. How many times was this fucking thing have to—.”
When you run to the bathroom to throw up, his girl ran out of the house. An impossible scenario for two young and wild girls to leave him behind in a hurry just like that. Even more impossible to see you getting so drunk you throw up. Not after he almost get you to bed him the one time you’re drunk when he’s also in the house; which makes you swear to Brian or Loui or your close friends to never let go you go home when you drunk.
“You... Alright?”
“Do I look alright, young boy?” You didn’t even try to cover your face knowing full well Roger always throws his briefs at you when you call him that. So you’re not surprised when Roger is too shocked to find you in that state.
“Just leave me the fuck alone and wreck this house like you always do.”
You don’t expect him to care. At least you wish he didn’t, or he might prank the shit out of you, and you might be too shitfaced to not restrain yourself from murdering him on spot this time. Hell, you’re too fucking drunk to see that he already did the wrecking the house part; one thing you’ll thank him for instead, because being too angry at him whilst cleaning the house will surely make you forget tomorrow.
+—-—+—-—+—-—+—-—+—-—+
“Ha. Annoying housemates after another. Just fucking avert your eyes, my sex life is none of yer’ business.” The man starts smoking, he offered you one, but you shake your head. “That one gal is the only one that lasts longer living with me. She’s still the champion in many different things too.”
“I bet she also hates you smoking near her.” You stated quite sharply. He inhaled deeply and exhale it away before he throws the cig on the pavement as he stepped on it.
“Miss that about her too.”
“No, you didn’t. You still smoked.”
“Just like her, you don’t know me quite well.”
“Well, you’re not helping much.”
“Because you only see what you want to see. You ignore everything else.”
Maybe that’s true. In the beginning, you hate your blonde housemate so much for many different reasons. Perhaps way too much that you can’t see him changing his attitudes towards you? But you have to be completely honest, if he does that when he’s not bringing home his bassist friend—that makes your housemate actually looks like the Satan himself, you’ll absolutely notice it much faster and sooner.
+—-—+—-—+—-—+—-—+—-—+
Something is happening with Roger. Ever since that day, he’s less of a bitch than he used to. He still doesn’t do dishes, or clean the fucking bathroom, or still refusing to throw trash away along with himself. He doesn’t pull a prank on you or insults you as much. He doesn’t blast his stereo, he even turning it down when you kick at his door when you need to study. He hardly brings some shag home anymore. Instead, that cute brunette is the frequent guest. And of course, you’re not complaining at all. The nostalgic peacefulness almost makes you so fucking drunk, Roger will take pity on you and left you a half-opened snack like when you discover the daddy long leg of your crush is already taken.
“Huh, y/n, did you see my lunch set? You eat them?”
Roger’s yell doesn’t make you jump despite it successfully breaks your concentration.
“You ate yours this morning.” You reminded him as you continue looking for riffs. “You can eat mine. I have toasts for lunch.”
“Thanks—?”
“Yeah, piss off.”
And he did leave you alone. Quietly heating and eating the lunch set and boil some water. Except, he can’t stop staring at you as he does all that.
“You’re very good.” Roger’s friend that you just learn the name as John, commented. He sat right in front of you as he put a mug of hot coffee on your side of the table.
“Oh, I know. But apparently not good enough.” You stare at the mug to which he nodded. “Thanks so much about the coffee.”
“Roger made that, not me. And no. It is very good. How long have you played?”
“Since fifteen. And tell that to Jukebox, maybe they’ll listen to you.”
“You used to be in Jukebox?”
“You’re still salty about them?” Roger joins the two of you. But as he sits right next to you, you immediately grab your amp, your music sheets, and goes to your room for some privacy. As expected; Roger found it offensive.
“What the hell did I do?”
“Everything. And Jukebox. You give out bad vibe my muse fucked off. By the way, John, I still got some cheese on toast in the fridge if you want.”
“I’d like that. Thank you.”
“What about me? I just made you that coffee.” He whines mockingly, almost makes you throw your music sheets at him. But instead, you slammed your bedroom door. “Wait, I’m serious. I’m still hungry.”
“You have fucking legs, Roger! Get them yourself! And whilst you’re at that, why don’t you drink the coffee and all our fucking foods?”
You hear a muted conversation as you write some notes down a bit later. It sounded more like an argument, but there’s a loud; “Fine! You don’t even have to thank me!” followed by the sound of plates and glass clunking. If it is indeed Roger that does the dishes, you promised yourself to listen to him and not thanking him. That’s his responsibility, you have done yours, and it’s not even that much. But the harder you try to ignore that, the more you can’t help that maybe Roger is turning to the better, and not because John is getting on his nerve as much as you did, but the drummer can’t do much about it.
+—-—+—-—+—-—+—-—+—-—+
“You’re right. But you have to understand it from my point of view. Ever since my housemate starts to live with me, he has done nothing but annoys me. And at that point, after plenty of fights, I want nothing but for either of us to move out.”
“Yeah, alright. I realised that a bit late. But still, ouch?” He laughs, hands automatically reach for a new cig before he notices what he’s doing. Your stare makes him put the smoke pack back inside his trousers. “Eventually the gal and I stop trying to murder each other.”
It’s still pouring out there with a zero sign it’ll stop anytime soon. Even though you wear layers of clothes, London is still a merciless place when it comes to weather. Despite that, recalling your sweet memories helps you warm up from the inside.
“Calm before the storm.” You break the silence, in which he quietly appreciate. “But maybe the most important part. After that, there’s no more filter on how we feel about each other.”
“I have to argue that my housemate and I are too much of childish bastards.”
This time it’s you that’s laughing. He’s right. Roger is growing softer and actually act like how a normal person should, especially to their housemate that give him a chance to live there in the first place. That’s when you can finally see he’s not just an arsehole rockstar wanna-be that’s a twat backstage. He is a twat backstage in a literal sense, but that’s something else entirely.
+—-—+—-—+—-—+—-—+—-—+
It’s hard to convince Loui who gets jealous easily that Roger was just a housemate. Much harder to hide the fact that you and Loui are dating, whilst he tries to convince his fellow Jukebox bandmates that you’re framed by the blonde from Queen. Undoing the childish plan that successfully kills your motivation to ever join or create a new band. When Loui is to get you involved again in the band because of his utter distaste towards the new bassist—who prefers to play over contributing in the creation of new albums, you’re too busy juggling your relationship, college, and Roger.
What’s with Roger? It’s clear he doesn’t know you’re already with someone else. Not that it'll stop him. But he doesn’t stop treating you like someone not only he wants to shag, but also date long-term. That’s how he hooked Dominique. Their bad breakup—that later you find—was the necessary fuel for him to chose and have you kicked out from Jukebox because you pissed him off at the wrong time. If Loui knows, there might be a fist fight between the two. You don’t hate Roger that much anymore to be able to see him lose miserably against the former boxer.
“Here to see us, love?” There he is. Approaching you like a snake ready to eat its prey.
“Jukebox actually. Don’t call me that.”
“Why? They kicked you out.”
“Because of you. But let me elaborate; I’m here for Loui.”
“Ah. Your gay best friend.” He nodded almost jokingly. “Still, please do enjoy our performance. I’ll even dedicate a song for you.”
“Don’t.”
“Can’t stop me. Just you see, you’ll finally fall in love with me.”
You really wish that was only a joke. That it’s just a simple word. But it didn’t. You don’t know what happened to you. When Queen is the first one to perform at the music festival in London, they bewitched you. Roger didn’t even lie about dedicating a song to you. As he stated it; “This is for my girl and housemate. Sorry to get you kicked out of Jukebox; you deserve a better chance in a better band. We’ll be waiting for your application, love.”
All three of his bandmates knows who that message was directed, but they simply laugh it off, thinking no one would believe that. Although what you feel right now is bloody far from the cheery and cheeky mood that Queen radiates. You feel like your heart stopped. A storm is about to ensue and you try to run towards Jukebox’s dressing room, only to bump with the right man half-way through.
“What the fuck was that?! You say he’s just your housemate!”
“Let’s talk somewhere else, dear.”
“No! I need a word with that man if what you say is true!”
“Do you want to get Jukebox’s approval or not?! Knocking Roger’s down his drummer set will have Jukebox kill you!”
The man with light-brown curly hair finally controls his breath as he stares at you. When his emotion subsides, he drags you to the storage room.
“Move out.”
“I’ll tell Roger that you and I are dating.”
“No, you can’t. Jukebox still despises you, and that son of a bitch will leak our fucking secret like it was his own sex tape, just to bring us down and to get you. He fucking admits it in front of the audience he got you dropped out the band! You’re my fucking girlfriend! You think I’ll let him near you after all he has done to you?!”
You’re trying to rack your brain and defend Roger. What is it to defend? He is the arsehole that makes you hates him the day he set foot in that house. He did get you kicked out the band you fucking found with Loui, how, you don’t know—maybe because of Elise, Dorian’s girlfriend, that he shag that day. He almost gets you evicted too many times because Mrs Marrianne believed in his lies more than your truths. But that’s not what makes you speechless. It’s the fact that you think to defend him at all. He has been much kinder than he was before, and he has been flirting with you non-stop. How come that’s enough to get you chose him over Loui, your best friend and now boyfriend?
“Move out. I’ll find a place to live far from London for us. Alright? I will not wreak havoc. But him saying that he gets you kicked out from the band will help me change our bandmates mind about you. Things will get better once you’re away from that bastard.”
"You're right. I'll get myself ready and start packing. I don't know what"s got into me."
Loui hugged you tight as he kisses your hair. Despite hugging him back, you still can't get Roger out of your mind. More specifically, why you can't and why he's still ticking you off even though he's no longer act like an arsehole to you. The man is handsome, but you have long grown immune to his antics. Maybe because he has been getting on your nerve so much all this time that he left a mark? Would that mark matters, though? You'll move out and eventually forgets about him right?
That's how it's supposed to go. For everything to finally be right and normal. And it is, at first; the band finally listen to Loui defending you and decide to reconcile after the concert. It was all fine and dandy until one of the crew knock on Jukebox's dressing room door to reveal that Roger is looking for you.
"Hey, arsehole. Get something to say to y/n after what you did to her? Apologies?" Dorian start first, most likely because he has been personally involved without his knowledge and consent by Roger in his plan getting you voted out.
"Oh absolutely. But I'm here for more than that. That lady is booked by us, and she's expected to join us... Hmm, preferably in twenty minutes?"
"My girlfriend is not going anywhere, Taylor." You quickly stepped in between Loui and Roger. "Kindly piss off and never show your face again."
"Girlfriend? I think you're mistaken, mate—."
"No, he's not." You cut him off. The atmosphere grows heavier by the minute. The tension makes everyone suffocates. And Roger silence, even just for a couple seconds, is escalating everyone's heartbeat.
"What? Isn't the answer is obvious? Just breaks up with him."
"Yeah, mate. Stop embarrassing yourself and date the boy that makes your life miserable." Jake's adding fuel to the fire, clearly amused by the hostile situation. "Lose all your senses. Get dumped once he's bored, you know, like Dom."
The drummer's blue eyes instantly catch the figure that has spoken the name he knew well.
"What's your problem, mate?"
"No. What's your problem?" You stopped Loui for moving towards Roger. "Y/n, let go."
"Fight, fight, fight."
"Shut the fuck up, Jake." You commanded whilst you push Loui away. "Don't start anything that'll cause trouble to all of us, Rog."
Roger squint at you before turned around and walked away. Foolish to think the confrontation was the finish line. It's simply the beginning of the end. Roger confronts you again at your house which almost turned into a fist fight with Loui that's insisting to go home with you. If not for the house party Roger throws without your permission, you might rethink your decision to move out and to continue your rather toxic relationship with Loui. The bad move from Roger is enough reason for you to side with Loui instead and declare that you'll move out.
Unfortunately, the war doesn't end there. You can't simply pack your things and move out when neither you nor Loui has found a place to live yet. And the process that took longer than what you anticipated was the chance Roger's practically abuse to persuade you to change your mind. And you might if he stopped his routine bringing home new girls to bang. Although the waves are getting calmer, sign for the battle to finally end, he finally shows his human side that melts your cold attitude towards him; getting you close enough to him and finally see the seriousness of his intention on making you his.
But it's too late, you think. You've committed from the start that you have chosen Loui. Last month you moved your things was when Roger is getting desperate. He refuses to give up, to the point that he plead guilty over his shit attitude and how much he regretted it. You wish it was a lie until John told you that Roger is getting too blue and how it affects their band activities.
"I can't. I'm already with Loui."
"Okay. Then make it clear to him that you're not changing your mind."
"John, I have tried saying turning him down many times. Emphasis on tried. Rog says he's not giving up. And to be honest, it's getting harder for me."
"Then I'll talk to him. Again..."
It's finally time for you to leave. Roger is there at home, still not letting go. It's so fucking cliché it left a bad taste in your mouth on how the situation was set up; Loui waiting for you at his car, looking grumpy, whilst Roger was by the front door, pleading. It’s like a goddamn romance film tropes you hated with a passion, and you got no fucking clue what to do.
"Things still could change. There's no such thing as too late." Roger says, almost whispering.
"Give it up, Taylor. You're a bloody rockstar, plenty of shags are lining backstage." Loui snarled as he reaches for your hand. "Let's go, dear."
"Y/n?" The blonde ignored your boyfriend.
The way he called your name almost breaks you. But you still believed whatever you're feeling for him was nothing. That it'll simply pass. There are no words. The wordless goodbye where you can't even look at him without contemplating the hell you've been through and whether you're making the right choice.
From then on, you only see him from afar. Queen is growing in popularity and continue showing up in the local music channels. Jukebox eventually breaks up without your contribution even get the chance to be published. You and Loui moved a couple more times before settling back in London, already past the incident with Roger. And eventually, your last date with Loui after three years of on and off.
+—-—+—-—+—-—+—-—+—-—+
"I wonder how my housemate is doing." You continue. But more because you're fed up that the rain refuses to bloody end than breaking the awkward silence. “Would he forgive me if I apologize to him? That I regretted the day I stepped out of that house? That I can’t stop thinking about him and how much I miss that wanker? That I lie to both him and myself about my feelings? Do you think he will forgive me?”
There was a long silence, and Roger is trying hard to not take a side glance at you. But you see it, a pink growing on both of his cheeks. It’s obvious that he wants to be considered thinking about whether he should forgive you, but you know he will, and is finding a way to reap as many benefits as he can when you’re on the palm of his hand.
“Well? As the said housemate, what do you think?”
“Hmm? What are you thinking?” Cheeky smile growing on his lips as he finally returns your stare. “These three years I changed, you know. Harder to impress me now. You see, I’m a rockstar.”
You aren’t going to give him any chance at all. You just go for it and kiss him. You can tell he’s half-expecting it, but it still caught him off guard. He cupped your cheeks and deepen the kiss as you grab his hips. It’s a bit impossible to execute what you’re planning to do when he drowns you and showing off his kissing skill. And being the greedy man that he is, it’s too clear he also misses you as his hands roam your body like he owns it. Too bad for the both of you, you have made up your mind as you push him out the shelter and get him drenched again.
“You bitch!”
“I know you like chasing more than being chased, Rog. Catch me if and I’ll allow you to do whatever you want!” You yell as you run in the rain. His wide naughty smile as he’s getting ready to sprint makes your heart jump. You feel like screaming from the excitement, but you will not give him a challenge with that big of a prize. Except you have to stumble at something and almost fall.
“Whoa there, you alright?” He grabs your hand and waist. “Even the world will not let you run away from me anymore, y/n. Just give it up.”
You try to struggle your way out, but he won’t let you and instead, he hugs you so tightly whilst he kisses your neck and shoulder.
“Alright, alright! You won!” You laughed, he still refuses to loosen his hug. “I love you, Rog.”
The F-bomb finally does it. He turned you to face him, the two of your eyes locked that you wish lasts forever. His blue eyes’ dilated. His warm breath despite the cold weather calmed you. He grabs your cheeks, his smile grows no matter how hard he tries to hold it back.
“I love you more, y/n. You have no fucking idea.”
“Hmm, maybe a couple of ideas.”
He finally let his grin shows before he kisses you again. This time, a bit more intimately, the one that makes your heart and body ablaze. Even if he might drift away, it’ll be you that’ll refuse to let him go that easily.
End.
#queen band fan fiction#Bohemian Rhapsody Fan fiction#Queen fan fiction#Roger Taylor x Reader#queen band#Bohemian Rhapsody Film#Queen#BoRhap Fan Fiction#BoRhap#Fluff#A bit of angst#Slow burn romance#One-shot#Roger Taylor#Brian May#John Deacon#Joe Mazzello#Ben Hardy#Gwilym Lee
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fuckit im doing my own stadamdrew headcanons
she long n nsfw so she going under the cut
ok so,
warnings b4 i go -bottom/sub adum top/andwew n stewen being heckin supportive
- adam and andrew fuck first. (lesbihonest…. theyve fucked.) - Adam’s never been w a guy before and he nearly had a panic attack as andrew kisses down his chest so they gotta put on the brakes - (andrews already laying between his legs and his breath is ghosting over adams groin when he mutters “wanna slow down?” but o jesus no adam does not he just can’t really breathe when drew looks at him like that) - adams eyes r bigger than ever and srsly they’re gonna fall out if he doesn’t relax so andrew grabs his hand and puts it on his head - he pushes at adams fingers until he grips into drew’s hair and drew looks up and says “you’re in control” - andrew goes down on him and adams tight grip on his locks turns soft and petting within seconds - he pants so prettily and guilds andrews head just how he likes it and andrew sticks his tongue out so nicely as adam cries and cums onto it and cries some more - when they’re back at the same eye level he offers but drew shakes him off since he can barely move. instead adam sinks his hands into drew’s hair again and apologizes a hundred times over for dumb things until drew smacks him away and turns him over and forces him to spoon w him
- andrew n steven r next. ovi. - they’re in a hotel room, buzzed and full of whatever they’ve been binging on lately, and it’s just a mess - they’re giggling like kids cuz they’re trying to mess around but andrews still got one shoe on and it’s really funny for some reason - steven nearly falls over trying to get outta his tight pants and andrew has to grab at him and they’re both laughing messes - once they’re finally laying down half naked andrew has to pine stevens face between his hands to get him to stop laughing and focus on kissing him and steven just melts into goo between his hands, reaching up to grip them and hold them and tangle they’re fingers together - they don’t wanna go all the way just yet but andrew keeps sticking fingers in stevens mouth n it’s really hot and steven has to say “u betta stop unless u gonna put those somewhere” - …. he puts them somewhere - stevens hand is pressing their cocks together and andrews hands are fumbling downstairs and steven can’t even think let alone see straight - andrew comes first bc steven writhing and twisting on his fingers is really hot and he looks down to see they’re cocks in his little hand and he just tucks his face into his shoulder and looses it - it wouldn’t take much more but a lil bit of sweet talk speeds it up hella - “do you need more? you want another? c’mon sweetheart c’mon honey cum for me steven c’mon baby” - yup! that’ll do it!
- then they’re in a hotel room. vegas maybe?? it’s just the three of them so they just got one double queen room for the night (since they’re blowing hundreds of dollars on food) - steven and adam are pretty much drunk, stevens dumbly hanging off his shoulder as they walk from the elevator to their room - andrew isn’t like drunk but he’s feeling good™️ yah know - adam and steven collapse on the one bed and stevens obviously cuddling all up in his aaarea. - andrew is giggly and is like /hey,, lemme get in on that,,,/ - and steven literally screams as he pulls andrew on top of them and now they’re just wrestling - they land w andrew tucked sideways into adams chest & under adams arm and steven on top of both of them w his arms wide over them mumbling about his boys, his pals, his boys - adam and andrew make awkward eye conact but adam just smiles and presses his nose into his hair - stevens face is already against adams collarbone and he’s like …. “would it be weird if i gave u a hickey rn” - andrews like… yes (cuz he doesn’t know… yah know… he’s trying to be protecting both his boys) but adam just laughs and is like “go for it man” - andrew like looses his shit like, legs flailing laughing - but he calms rIGHT the FUCK down when steven actually does it………. - steven laughs and is like “is weird w the beard…” but he must find a spot he likes cuz he’s like, kissing up adams neck like right in front of andrew - and adam is still giggly but he’s got a soft hand petting over stevens hair as he marks him up and yah uh andrew’s kiiiinda hard
- it takes them a second to realize what’s going on (“having fun there steven??”) but uhhhhh - so andrew kisses adam and then playfully licks at steven and they kinda know what’s going on - (lucky adams a little drunk (still able to fully consent ok this is allll fine) because if he was fully sober and had t w o boys on him he would probably be crying) - and steven playfully kisses andrew and they’re both kinda laying on adam and andrew (stupidly) goes “yah uhh i’ve had sex w both of u xD xD!!!” - and steven and adam make weird eye contact and then steven just like, hits andrew in the shoulder and goes “why did u get to have sex w adam first??!!” - “dude he came onto me!!!” - “totally not fair” - “you can have ur turn!!!” - and then shit goes kinda quiet, aaaaaand steven starts pushing at adams shirt until it comes off somehow and now adam and steven are rolling around licking and nipping at each others chests and honestly the zipper in these jeans AINT gonna make it if andrew don’t do something - adams laughing and holding stevens head at a safe distance to keep him from attacking his chest and muttering something about how he’s sooo cute and whatever - andrew interrupts by trying to kiss adam, and when he gets a good angle adam like melts back into the bed with steven falling between them so andrew, a problem solver, crawls on top of adam to kiss him until he’s jelly - “r we…. r we doing this?” says steven from his spot on the bed - andrew breaks apart to giggle. “i’m in.” - adam is literally starry eyed. like he’s got one arm hooked under steven holding him close and one hand on andrews thigh - steven is staring at him and oh jeez don’t embarrass ur self bianchi - *shifty eyes…* “…can i bottom?” - ok and andrew literally goes into cardiac arrest like (the hc can end here if you’d like. adam just just killed andrew gn!) - steven smiles like the damn sun and is like “yes bitch ask for what u want!! respect!!” (but no really he just like makes out w him for a second while andrew is literally still dying in the background) - drew’s got a hand around his zipper signifying that he plans to top adam (hooolllyyy sh#t) - “steven?” asks cuz he doesn’t really know how to do this w three people - steven sees that he’s literally one second away from already fuckimg adam and he’s like “yes. do it.” - and now they’re naked - and someone for some reason brought supplies and steven is kissing adam and adams jerking him off and andrew is stretching adam and it sounds like a mess looks like a mess but feels fucking incredible because there’s like… trust and love and gentle gentle hands and everyone is feeling good - steven gets close to adams head (adams on his back, andrew on his knees between his legs) petting thru his hair and holding andrews hand and lives vicariously thru BOTH of them as andrew sliiides home - adam maybe cries - (its bc steven is kissing him and andrew is holding him and they’re smiling at eachother and /his boys his boys his boys/) - andrew pets back his hair and shushes him and presses his mouth to his forehead and his mouth and his throat and adam tries to keep breathing - steven is … the worst bc he’s so into this (it’s like… porn right in front of u… and it’s real and emotional and he can touch them oh my god) and he’s like “c’mon drew, give it to him, c’mon he needs it” - adam can’t even understand what he’s saying but he agrees! - “c’mon drew, give our boy what he wants cmon” and jfc andrew is gonna blow if he doesn’t shut him up so he grabs him and kisses him good and holds him and feels him up cuz he can!!! - he wraps a hand around stevens cock and lays him down beside adam. he thrusts into adam as he jerks up and pulls out as he jerks down and adam is right in his ear panting and crying “ohhhmhgoddstehhhsteven o oh m my g g ooooahh” w every thrust and ok! that’s it for mr lim cheque please! - he’s hold onto andrews arm as he cums and crying into adams neck and holy shit - andrew gives him a sweet kiss before turning back to adam and adam can feel his intentions in the swell of his cock and ok! he’s ready - “c’mon drew. fuck me.” … n u don’t gotta tell him twice ok - the next like two minutes is adam holding andrew around the shoulders and grabbing his back and completely blissed out. andrew n steven are saying something and he thinks he’s saying something ? but he really can’t hear over the blood in his ears - steven catching his breath, but he’s reached down and is gently jerking adam off since he prob can’t cum from cock alone (he prob can) and really just wants his hands on them - andrews whispering “i’m gunna cum oh my god” - “hows it feel” steven asks breathily - “oh my god. steven. steven.” - “it’s ok baby we got u” - and now andrew is sputtering their names and adam is actually just muttering a string of “yes” and “more” but he’s on totally on a different planet - “i’m gonna come” andrew’s muttering “ohh my god” - “oh my god!” adam yells, turning his face into stevens neck “i’m gonna come i’m gonna” suddenly out of his sub drop - steven doesn’t even know what to say as andrew pulls out and comes on adams hip and adams hand replaces stevens and he comes on his stomach - adams eyes r clear now and he’s like woooooowie cloud 9 but could probably use an inhaler - andrew thinks he could faint right here but instead he pushes his face to where theirs r close and just whispers “jesus christ i love you two” and - well that’s the end of that - (jk they clean up and snuggle and it’s sweet but they’re covered in marks and they’ve gotta film tomorrrow and NO ONE BROUGHT A TURTLE NECK)
like? Kudos it here :)
#ok OH MY GOD#i hate myself#stadamdrew#stadamdrew fic#standrew#adamdrew#fic#worth it fic#bfwi#its ok y'all i hate myself too
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im so so fucking overwhelmed by absolutely the tiniest things jfc
i had to rush w walking to my sleep therapy appointment nd i think i was 1 minute late or so but the therapist saw me nd we had our appt which went well, she recommended me to try to make a weighted pillow w 2 kg of rice and that sounds very fun, and of other exercises too, and then i had to sort out my route, walked to a metro station to go to a hospital to get my blood drawn but bc the screen displayed the wrong stops and i didnt listen to the computer voice bc i listened to music, so i had to get out nd take another metro two stops back, then at the hospital entrance i was told i could just request a new blood drawing form at the desk i had to go to anyway (i lost the original bc i got it months ago bd it suddenly disappeared), which sounded weird bc i remember someone telling me before to go to a different desk, but i went there, drew a number until it was my turn, went to the desk, was indeed sent back downstairs to the other desk, walked around like 3 times (including walking outside bc thats the only route for going back to the right desk so i had to give my info at the entrance again) bc the arrows on the floor were very confusing when you enter a floor halfway through a hall nd i didnt want to walk into the wrong direction when there were arrows bc of covid, constantly stressing bc it got a bit more busy while earlier i was told i could come back bc it was so quiet, then finally drew a number again for the desk near the blood drawing room bc i finally had my form, got my blood drawn, went to toilet, went to a shop back nd forth bc i was hungry but they basically only had chocolate stuff nd candy nd i know having eaten chocolate makes me rly sick in public transport but i bought a bueno thingy anyway, went outside again, stressed bc my phone is way lower battery level nd it was so suffocatingly hot in the hospital that i didnt know how much to put on, suddenly had an impulse to sit down outside on a bench near a tree bc there were multiple beches nd i thought oh why dont i try duolingo again bc its been ages nd i need to sit down so i can write in my notebook! then got stressed bc they were all soaking wet wood despite it not having rained today nd it looks greenish nd gross anyway, but normally other public benches r always covered in bird shit or rly tiny bc they hate homeless ppl, so i sat down despite being stressed abt how im wearing pastel pants nd theyre prob rly gross rn and stressed abt the possibility of ppl walkig by while im mask-less bc im eating or drinking nd stressed abt me forgetting to put it back on bc im forgetful nd stressed bc i wanted to try to clean my room nd wash my hair for days now and it still didnt happen bc im always too tired nd bored w doing necessary tasks nd im abt to have a meltdown rn nd crying nd i HATE it!! i wanted to try to sit somewhere in public in a sort of quiet space near grass nd trees, like even if theres cars nd ppl around i thought it might help but it was too late bc im already crying from fatigue nd embarrassment bc ppl can see me cry in public!! like i dont get how ppl enjoy being outside, ppl can see u all the time nd ur never free from their stares, its so embarrassing!! i kind of want to go home already so im free from embarrassment in public but im also not looking forward to going there bc my room is still a mess nd needs to be cleaned nd i need to wash my hair nd im not sticking to the shower scedule tht my autism coach gave me, like even if i do shower its usually not on the dates that are on the sheet, bc she included certain days of the week which i proposed but it doesnt work out tht way nd i feel guilty, but moreover im not looking forward to going home bc the way back is either like, walking very long to and from public transport stops nd my feet r already killing me, while the other routes involve less walking but more switching transport methods on the way there nd its so frustrating bc last time i could just come here in one go. i know im whining a lot abt absolutely nothing nd only loking for things to get upset by but i just needed to vent
#i also still need to apply for more jobs bc by the time i might get help w that its either december or january at the very least#i hate it so so much like urgh please im tired of being so forgetful nd late everwhere nd getting upset w myself#nd just. how ive been in this spiral for most of my life#though it might even be worse bc now i have even more responsibilities#i have just so few life experience md never know what to do#maybe i should go home after all nd hug my friebd but idk#i always bother him w the same sob stories nd he doesnt know what to do w them either#i just need a stupid fucking job that i wont suck at too much#but i have 0 useful talents or skills for a job nd moreover 0 confidence#nd im rly bad at lying at times when its the most necessary like i rly find it hard to lie abt me being able to do so much#rambles
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