#since im still puzzling out how to draw half of them and the rest of it is pure nonsense | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ofstarsandvibranium · 5 years

Text

Two for One

Fandom: Marvel (Professor AU/College AU)

Pairing: Stucky x F!Reader

Summary: Ever since you became the TA for Professor Romanoff, you’ve been seeing a lot of Professors Rogers and Barnes. They seem to be attracted to you, but you have a hard time deciding between the two. What do you do?

Warning: smut - bjs, threesome, semi-public…just a whole lot of naughty mk?

A/N: based off of this post and my tags in it. also, word count is about 4.1k. so yall better appreciate this and the struggle i went through to write this (i’m looking at you @chloerinebarnes )

Steve was sure that if Bucky bit his lip any further, he’d draw blood. He nudged his boyfriend with his elbow, gaining his attention back, “Cool it with the staring and lip biting. You’ll scare her off.”

Bucky groaned, “She’s killin’ me with those jeans, babe.”

Steve snorted, “Tell me about it,” he murmured as his eyes went back to across the lounge. You were standing off to the side, speaking with Professor Romanoff, the teacher you were a TA for. You were nodding to everything that she was listing off for you to do. After handing you a stack of papers, you saw yourself out of the lounge. Bucky and Steve’s shoulders sagged in disappointment.

Ever since you became Professor Romanoff, aka Natasha’s, TA, Steve and Bucky have been seeing you more and more. Not that they minded. You were beautiful, funny, and smart. Honestly, you were the missing puzzle piece in their life.

Don’t get it wrong, Steve and Bucky were completely devoted to each other. But for the past few years, they’ve been feeling like they were missing something. And they believe that something is you.

But how does one go about proposing a polyamorous relationship? You don’t. It’s not a very common thing and it’s not accepted in a lot of places. Nonetheless, Steve and Bucky adored you from the moment they met you.

So, they hatched a plan. They would worm their way into your heart individually and when it came to the point where you “have to choose”, they’ll give you the other option: a two for one deal.

_________________________

You’re in the school cafe, a pile of papers off to the side that you’re making your way through. You suddenly feel a presence looming over you and you look up to see Professor Barnes.

You give him a polite smile, “Hey there, professor! How’s it going?”

“Monday mornings were never my thing hence,” he gestured to his large coffee cup.

You snorted, “Tell me about it,” you pointed to your own, “This is my third one already.”

“Mind if I sit?” he points to the seat across from you.

You shook your head, “Not at all!” you move your things around to give him a little bit more space, “Enjoy your weekend?”

He shrugged, “Just stayed home, watched some Netflix, graded papers. The usual.”

You nodded, “That’s become my usual now too. Although, yesterday my friends Pietro and Wanda dragged me out of the apartment to go to a bar. Gonna be honest, had a bit too much.”

“That explains the coffee and you still grading papers that are probably due today.”

You sighed, “Yeeeaahhh. Never listening to the twins again,” you said with a snort.

“I wish I could help. Russian Literature was my minor. But I’m sure if Nat found out, she’d have both our heads.”

“Definitely. Romanoff’s great, but, damn, does she terrify me!”

Barnes snorted, “Same here.” he stood up and grabbed his coffee, “Well, I’ll let you get to it. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Professor Barnes!”

He smiled down at you, and with a wink, he said, “Call me Bucky,” and he waltzed out of the cafe like it was nothing. And you hated to admit that that little gesture made your cheeks heat up and make your panties slightly damp.

___________________

You were struggling with holding the pile of graded papers in your arms and trying to get your notebook out for Romanoff’s class. Just when you thought you had it, all the papers tumbled forward onto the ground. You groaned and hung your head back, staring up at the sky asking, “Why me?”

You bent down and began to collect the papers, and then another pair of hands came into view. You tried to object, “It’s okay! I got-” when you looked up, staring back at you was he striking blue eyes of Professor Rogers, “I-I got it, Professor Rogers,” you stammered as you quickly collected the essays.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind helping,” he said with a shy smile, grabbing the leftover papers and handing them to you. You both stood up and awkwardly stood there, “So, uh, headed to Nat’s-I mean, Romanoff’s office?”

You nodded, “Yeah. Gotta turn in all these papers I graded.” you gestured to the pile that was back in your hands.

“Oh, well, my office is in the same direction. I’ll accompany you.”

You two walked together, towards the Literature and History building, “So, uh, how was your weekend?”

“Oh, uh, pretty bland, honestly. Just hanging out and grading papers. What about you? Did you spend your weekend grading all of these?” he points to your pile.

“Sorta,” you answered, “I got most of them done. Then I went out last night. Got drunk and never finished the rest. I just finished up in the cafe. Professor Barnes was actually there too. Surprised you weren’t with him. You two are usually attached to the hip,” you say teasingly.

Rogers snorted, “Please, I couldn’t shake ‘im even if I tried. We actually live together. We see a lot of each other and you would think we’d get sick of each other. But we don’t.”

“That’s good. I love Pietro and Wanda, but, God, I don’t think I can spend every second of the day with them.”

He chuckled, “Guess you just gotta find the right people that’ll make you want to see them all the time.”

Soon enough, you were in the building, standing in front of Professor Romanoff’s office, “Well, here’s my stop,” you say.

“Yeah. Anyway, I hope you have a good rest of your day, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Professor Rogers. You too!”

“Please, call me, Steve,” he says with a grin and then turns around, heading for his office in the other direction.

___________________

Bucky is eating lunch in Steve’s office. Steve is typing away at his computer, occasionally pausing when Bucky feeds him a forkful of penne pasta into his mouth.

“So, progress?” Bucky asks, his own mouth full of pasta.

Steve chews a few more times before swallowing. He takes off his glasses and sets them onto his desk, “Told her to call me Steve after I helped pick up her papers that she dropped and accompanied her on the way to Nat’s office. She said she came from the cafe and you were there?”

Bucky nodded, “Yeah. Grabbed some coffee, sat with her and chatted a little bit. When I left, I told her to call me Bucky. You still think we should do this?”

“I really like her, Buck. I just-don’t you feel it? That spark with her?” when Bucky nodded, Steve continued, “Then can you imagine how it would be if all of us were together?”

“It’d be like nothing we’ve ever felt before,” Bucky murmured.

“Exactly. We gotta try, but we can’t be too overbearing. She’s gotta be the one.”

Bucky set down his tupperware of pasta and rest his hand on Steve’s, “She’s out missing puzzle piece.”

___________________

You sat in the lounge next to Professor Romanoff, or Nat, as she’s allowed you to call her. You’re both going over test grades and that’s when you hear the screeching of wood against the floor and then you look up to see Bucky and Steve settling across the table from you.

Your eyes brighten and a smile appears on your face, “Hey, Bucky! Hey, Steve!”

Big grins appear on their faces when you acknowledge, “Hey, doll,” Bucky says, and you feel your cheeks heating up.

You duck your head down, biting your lip and continuing to grade papers. You hoped that Nat ignored that interaction, but she didn’t. While you continued to grade papers, Nat gave questioning looks to the professors across from her. Both gave her shrugs and pulled out their own work that needed to be done.

Words started to blur as your eyes skimmed through another test, your red pen marking wrong answers. You could feel yourself getting a headache so you groaned and fell back into your seat, “I need a break. I’m gonna walk to the cafe. Do you guys want anything?” Nat and Bucky shook their head but Steve stood up.

“I’ll go with you. I think I need to stretch my legs anyway.” he turns to Bucky and gives him a nod, and then follows you out of the lounge. After you both leave, Nat turns to Bucky.

“What the hell are you guys up to?”

“Steve and I both like Y/N, so we’re trying to ease our way into her heart and possibly propose a poly relationship.”

Nat groaned, “Jesus Christ. You know what happened the last time you tried that. You and Steve ended up heartbroken and nearly broke up because of it.”

“Dot wasn’t right for us,” Bucky said with a shake of his head, “But Y/N’s different. You know she is, Nat.”

“Maybe so, but then again, you hardly know her.”

“And that’s why we’re trying to spend as much time as we can to get to know her.”

Nat shook her head, “You’re playing a dangerous game. She’s a student.”

“She’s graduating this year. Once she’s graduated, then Steve and I will ask. Trust us, Nat. We learned from the last time and we know what we’re doing now.”

____________________

“So, the semester is half way over and you’ll be graduating soon. Have any plans on what to do?” Steve asked, his hands curled up in his pockets.

“Travel. Find a job. Maybe find some love on the way. I don’t know.”

“Not looking for love right now?” he asked with a teasing smirk.

You shrugged, “Oh trust me, I’ve been looking. Just haven’t found anyone that clicks with me, ya know? Someone funny, smart, compassionate, independent. Oh and knows how to cook. It’s surprising how many people here barely know how to cook.”

Steve snorted, “Bucky loves to cook. He cooks our meals all the time. I know how to cook too, but for Bucky, it’s his stress reliever. He’s in his element when he cooks, plus everything is delicious when he makes it.”

“I’d love to try something other than ramen and burgers.”

“I’ll bring you some tomorrow. Buck loves to cook for other people so it won’t be a problem.”

You shook your head, “I can’t ask you guys to do that. You don’t have-”

“You’re not askin’, sweetheart. Plus, we want to do this. Trust me.”

You sighed, “Fine.”

Steve was beaming right then and there, “Great. Do you have any food preferences?”

“Surprise me.”

_____________________

It became a regular thing after that. You and Nat would be in the lounge going over lecture notes or grading papers. Steve and Bucky would appear and slide over some tupperware for lunch that Bucky had prepared for you. At one point, they started bringing some food for Nat too since she complained about them not bringing food for her. Plus, they didn’t want to seem too suspicious.

As the semester progressed, you found yourself in the company of Steve and Bucky often. Sometimes it was both of them, sometimes it was one or the other. You’d have lunch with them, walk with them to class or the office building. Relax under some trees while you graded papers. You also ended up getting both of their numbers and all three of you would be in a group chat texting away or texting to either men individually.

You were around them a lot and you couldn’t help the feelings you were starting to develop for both them. It was conflicting. Very much so. You were a student and they were professors.

It was a month before the semester ended, before you graduated, and you’d had enough. Enough of the feelings and the confusion. It had to stop!

So you burst into Bucky’s office where you knew both men would be. As soon as you step into the room, you freeze. There right before was Steve and Bucky, but they were tangled up in each other, making out.

“I’m so confused,” you murmured as they stared at you wide-eyed.

“Doll, I-we-”

“I-I should go. Sorry. I didn’t-I’m gonna-”

You turn to leave but Steve cried outs, “Y/N, wait!” and you stop. You look at them and they’re staring at you with pleading eyes, “Sweetheart, please, don’t leave. Just-Just close the door and we’ll explain everything.”

Slowly, you move back inside, closing the door behind you. You sit at the chair across from Bucky’s desk. Bucky sits back down into his seat and Steve stands off to the side, running his hand through his disheveled hair.

“Are-Are you guys together?” you ask apprehensively. When both men nod, you let out a shaky breath, “I-I don’t understand. Both of you made it seem like you were interested in me. Were you just toying with me? Is that it?!”

“No!” both said unison.

Steve cleared his throat, “It’s nothin’ like that, Y/N. We swear. We-Bucky and I, we’ve been together for a long time. We love each other a lot, but-”

Bucky interjected, “But we feel like we’ve been missing something. And we think that something is you.”

You became even more confused, “But you’re together already. How would that even work?”

“A polyamorous relationship. The three of us can be together. Bucky and I have strong feelings for you, Y/N.”

You shook your head, “This can’t happen,” and suddenly, it felt like Bucky and Steve’s hearts were breaking all over again, but then you continued, “I’m still a student and you’re professors. If this got out, I’d be expelled and you two would be fired. I-” you take a moment to let out a deep breath, “It’s funny. I was coming here to tell you that I can’t choose between you two. I have feelings for both of you, so I was just-I don’t know-take myself out of the equation.”

“But you don’t have to, doll,” Bucky says with a hopeful gaze.

Steve rest his hand on Bucky’s shoulder to prevent him from getting ahead of yourself, “But we understand your reasoning why you don’t want to be with us.”

“I didn’t say I don’t want to be with you. I said I can’t right now.” that made both men’s ears perk, “I’m graduating next month. We can put all of this on hold for now and once I’m outta here then...”

“We can wait!” Bucky said all too enthusiastically, which made Steve chuckle.

Steve’s hand moved from Bucky’s shoulder, down his arm and to his hand where they laced fingers, “We’re willing to wait for you, sweetheart. You’re worth it.”

You moved around the desk and to the two men, grabbing each of their hands in yours, “Thank you. You guys mean a lot to me,” you leaned in and pecked the cheeks of each men, “I’ll see you guys soon,” and then you were out of Bucky’s office. The end of next month couldn’t come any sooner.

__________________

“Y/N L/N!” your name was called as you walked across the stage, shaking the dean’s hand, and accepting your diploma. Cheers from your loved ones and peers brought a huge smile to your face. You walked down the steps dancing on your way back to your seat, your classmates buzzing all around you.

After everyone’s name was called, the dean stood up the podium to give final remarks and the changing of the tassels, “Now, everyone, I present to you the Class of 2020!” everyone cheered as caps went flying into the air. You hugged the people around you, and waited for your family and friends to meet you on the field. In the meantime..

“I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!” Bucky cried out as he gave you a big ol’ hug. Steve stood behind him, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“Congrats, Y/N,” Steve gave you a hug, nothing to make anyone suspicious.

You were beaming at them, “Thanks you guys. I can’t believe it. I graduated!”

Bucky was ready to ask you out right then and there, but stopped when he saw your family approaching. He and Steve stepped aside to allow you some time with your loved ones. They mouthed, “See you later,” and both walked away to congratulate other students.

You watched as they departed. A part of you wanted to chase after them and kiss them both then and there, but that would stir something up and you didn’t want any trouble on this momentous day. Soon, Y/N. Soon.

The day after graduation was when you were to pick up your official diploma. You knew from the group chat that Steve and Bucky would be on campus, due to finishing up finals. And after you picked up your diploma, you wanted to go see them.

With diploma in hand, you approached the office building, sending off texts to the men:

You: whatcha up to?

Bucky: grading finals in Steve’s office

You: can I stop by?

Steve: of course ;)

Bucky: BRING COFFEE!

You giggled, knowing how predictable Bucky was, two cups of coffee with you already. You approached Steve’s office, knocking on the slightly ajar door, “May I enter?”

The door swung wide open, and Bucky immediately pulled you inside, closing and locking the door behind you. You snorted, “Wow, eager mu-mmf!” you couldn’t finish the teasing retory as a pair of lips matched up with yours, hands cupping your face.

You heard a chuckle from behind you, “Buck, careful, you’re gonna make her spill the coffee she got for us.” He went over and grabbed the coffee tray from your hands.

You pulled away, mumbling, “Thank you,” to him and then looking back at Bucky who sported a dopey grin on his face, “How long were you waiting to do that?”

“So fucking long,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to yours once more, but it was brief since you pulled away.

“Hey now, two kisses and Steve hasn’t even gotten any from me yet. You’re starting to get greedy, mister.”

Bucky’s cheeks flushed and he ducked his head down shyly, “Sorry, doll,” he then moved aside for Steve.

Steve pulled you in, wrapping an arm around you and slowly leaning in. His lips were hovering over yours and right as you were about to tell him to hurry up, his lips met yours in a passionate kiss. His fingers dug into your skin as he held onto you for dear life. For so long him and Bucky have wanted you like this and he feels like if he lets go, if he pulls away, it’ll all be a dream.

Steve began to walk you backwards until your backside hit the edge of his desk. You pulled away to look at the two men, whose soft gazes faded and turned into lustful ones.

You smirked, “I’ve always fantasized about being fucked on a desk.”

Both men growled as they started to undo their pants. Steve pressed you up against the desk, kissing you heatedly, while Bucky began to remove things from the surface. You hopped onto it after receiving the okay from Bucky. Steve worked on getting your jeans off while Bucky pulled of your shirt. Clothes flew around the room with no care where they landed.

“Ah fuck, baby doll. You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Bucky moaned, his hand slowly pumping his cock and the other kneading your breast.

You laid across the surface, opening your mouth, welcoming Bucky’s length. You both moaned when his dick entered your mouth. Bucky thrust his hips back and forth, loving how you looked taking his cock.

Meanwhile, Steve was paying special attention to your pussy. He licked a strip up your slit, tongue circling around your clit. When you moaned a little too loud, Steve pulled away, “Quiet now, honey. Someone might here your pretty little noises and those are for our ears only.”

Bucky pulled out of your mouth for you to reply, “Sorry, Steve.”

“How wet is she, Stevie?” Bucky asked through his panting.

Steve licked his lips, “So fucking wet and she’s so sweet,” he murmured before slurping up some of your juices.

Bucky whined, “Lemme taste.” Steve then stood up and leaned over the desk, pulling Bucky towards him, Lips smashing against lips. You wished you could’ve seen the two men swapping your taste, but the view was blocked by Bucky’s body leaning over yours.

When they pulled away Steve cleared his throat, looking from you to Bucky, “So, how’s this gonna go: i fuck her pussy while you get her mouth, or vice versa?”

You shook your head, “No, I wanna feel you both at the same time.”

Both men moaned at the thought of both of their cocks filling you up to the brim. Steve nodded, “Very well. Bucky, on the table. Sweetheart, straddle Bucky.” Both you and Bucky did as you were told while Steve pulled out a bottle of lube from a drawer.

You gave him a questioning look and Bucky chuckled, “This isn’t the first time we’ve fucked in this office, doll.” And just the image of Bucky and Steve fucking in this office made you even more wet than before.

Steve, with his cock lubed up, knelt behind you and in-between Bucky’s legs, “You ready for us, babygirl?”

“I’ve literally been waiting all semester for this, Steve. Now hurry up and fuck me.”

Both men snickered at your haste, “Gotta give our girl what she wants,” Bucky mumbled as he lined himself up with you and you lowered yourself onto him. Steve was right behind you, pushing you forward and slowly easing himself into not wanting to hurt you. Moments pass they’re both inside you and, holy shit, this is something you’ve never felt before.

Both men stay still as they let you set the pace. You rock your body back and forth, allowing both cocks to drag themselves in and out of you. Seriously, the feeling was something unworldly. What made it ever better was Bucky’s lips on your chest and Steve’s hand working your clit. These men both knew what they were doing.

“So fucking sexy, sweetheart, taking our cocks at the same time,” Steve murmured into your neck, “You love this, don’t you? Love being filled to the brim.”

Bucky bit at your skin, making you hiss, to which he mumbled, “Answer him, babydoll.”

“Yes, Steve. Love your cocks filling me whole,” you gasped when Bucky’s cock just hit that spot that made you shudder. With the way things were going, you knew you were gonna be cumming soon.

“Wanna make a mess outta you, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered, lips still wandering over your neck and chest, “Wanna fill you with our cum, paint you with it. Mark you as ours.”

“I’m yours,” you panted out, “I’m all yours,” you moved your body faster, desperate for your release.

“Go ahead, baby, cum on our cocks. We wanna feel ya,” Steve mumbled in your ear, his hand working faster on your clit. You dug your nails into Bucky’s chest, a pain he happily welcomed.

“Come on, baby. Give it us. You can do it,” Bucky encouraged you, slapping your ass and kneading the flesh.

“Fuck, fuck,” you said through gritted teeth. A powerful wave of pleasure washed over you as leaned down, resting your head against Bucky’s while you came.

“So pretty when you cum,” he whispered.

“Such a good girl,” Steve murmured, kissing your back and shoulders. You moved a bit and felt something wet. You sat up and looked down to see that you just squirted all over you and Bucky.

“Oh shit. I’ve never done that before,” you murmured.

Bucky snickered, “First time for everything,” he said with a wink.

You then moved off his lap, “Well, lemme clean this up for you since it is my mess.” Both men hissed when your hands wrapped around both their lengths, your mouth gliding over Bucky’s stomach and pelvis, collecting your own juices.

“Oh my God, you’re perfect,” he moaned, his hand grabbing your head and trying to push it towards his cock.

You slapped his hand away, “I already sucked you off, babe. Now it’s Steve’s turn,” you said with a smirk. You gave a wink to the blonde as your mouth lowered onto his dick. Bucky was right, you are perfect. And you’re theirs. All theirs.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader #smut #professor au #college au

2K notes · View notes

offtopicoverload · 3 years

Text

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?

24 notes · View notes

nockfellblues · 4 years

Note

I don't know if you do these kinds of asks but how about reader pulling a hunger games type moment and confronting Larry before he kills himself saying if you go I do too I won't let someone I love die alone type thing.

All aboard the angst train ♥ written as a mini fic! TW for attempted suicide! Reader is gender neutral.

If you are in crisis, please call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline and get the help you deserve. Call 1-800-273-8255. If you are like me and are afraid to call, there are also live online chat options as well, located HERE!

You’d known for awhile something was... off with Larry. Ever since Sal had officially moved in with Todd and Neil, Larry had been stadoff-ish on a good day, and on bad days would seclude himself in the tree house, Sanity’s Fall blasting from that tiny stereo so loud you could hear it from your shared basement apartment. To say you were worried about his behavior was an understatement. Especially after you’d begun to notice the pattern of near constant headaches, the fact that he was always saying it was too loud in the apartment, the occasional mutter of, “shut up,” to an empty room when he though you weren’t close enough to hear, and the quickly worsening whip of anger he’d been developing… You were walking on eggshells at any given moment.

Finally, it all hit a breaking point.

You had been helping Larry pack up the remainder of his non-essentials, getting them ready to go over to his new room at Todd’s. It had been a process to pack a lot of his stuff up- it was a whole lifetime to sort through; countless weird knick knacks to decide to keep or not, finding old drawings and sketchbooks from his childhood, finding a random little thing that had been lost years ago tucked away in a dusty corner someplace…

To be honest, it had been more reminiscing about his childhood and the memories about each of the items you both went through than it was actually packing. But it was fun, and the wistful smile he wore as he told you stories of his mother, his missing father and his years of shenanigans with Sal and Todd made every wasted second well worth it.

When you unearthed a little silver puzzle box, you expected a fun story and for him to add it into the donation box for the local second hand shop for some needy kid to enjoy it later. But the simple question of, “Trash or stash?” quickly devolved into an argument about how much you didn’t care about his sentimentality or that it was an important object to him- and it just got worse from there- until you gave up, tossed up your hands, and stated you were gonna bring the box you’d finished earlier over to Todd’s while he cooled off, and walked out.

When you’d gotten there, the first thing you did was tell Sal what was up, hoping maybe he’d have some kind of wise words or what you could have done to set Larry off in the first place. Sally, ever the sweetheart, pulled you into a gentle hug, reassuring you that Larry was probably just having a rough patch and that he would talk to him and see if Larry might open up about it.

Taking Todd up on an offer to stay the night, you threw on a movie and made yourself comfortable on the couch, falling into a dreamless sleep.

Neil woke you the next morning with a killer cup of coffee and a poor mans breakfast of sugar coated pop tarts. Sally had come around not long after, letting you know Larry had texted him, and they’d be headed to the apartments for some, “Ghost hunting.” He seemed kind of tense but reassured you that he’d talk to Larry today, before he met up with Ash. Of course, you’d thanked him, and settled into Larry’s soon-to-be room to start sorting out some of the easier boxes.

—–

You woke up later, sprawled on the couch, to the sound of Todd rummaging in the kitchen. Yawning, you stretched and made your way out to greet him, smoothing out your bead-head.

“Hey Todd, how as class?” You asked, grabbing a seat at the kitchen table.

Todd shrugged, idly stirring an instant noodle cup, “No complaints. How’s Larry’s room coming along? Sal said you were unpacking this morning.”

“Well, I made it through the clothes and some oddball boxes… Did Sally mention anything about Larry by chance?”

Todd shook his head, “No, but he left with Ash almost as soon as he was back, so we didn’t have much time to chat. Knowing Sal, things should be smoothed over. He’s always been able to mellow Larry out like that.”

With that, you decided to head back and see if Larry was feeling any better after some Sally time. It was getting dark, and the thick clouds looming overhead finally opened into a sweeping downpour just after you had left Todd’s. You stopped under a thicket of trees just off the road, hoping the rain would lessen, when your cell phone went off.

Larry: [Name] im rly sry. i nvr meant that shit i said.

[Name]: Dude its all good i know youre stressed lately. Im heading back now.

Larry: stay at todds. and just dont blame urself ok? its my time to go.

[Name]: Larry wtf are you talking about? youre scaring me?

Without waiting for a reply you took off towards the apartments at a breakneck run. Bypassing the front door, you ran around the backside of the building to use the back entrance, when you noticed a light on in the old tree house- Then your gaze trailed down to the baggy with a neatly folded paper pinned to the lower steps on the tree.

You felt your blood run cold. He wouldn’t- no.

“Larry!” You scrambled up the rickety planks, ignoring the note, and all but threw yourself onto the tree house floor. “Larry, don’t!”

Tucked against the wall of the tree house, just under the little window, sat Larry, an old camping lantern lit in the corner beside him. His eyes were puffy and his hair disheveled, evidence that he’d been crying before. Tears welled in your own eyes as you took in his distraught expression and the bottle of whiskey in his hands.

“[Name]..?” He whispered your name, and the way his voice cracked brought you to instant tears, and you all but launched yourself at him, pulling him into a desperate embrace.

“Larry Johnson, you fucking asshole! Don’t you dare- don’t you dare take a sip from that bottle-”

“[Name]-” you cut him off, taking his face into your hands and forcing him to look at you. The circles under his eyes were so deep, and the absolute emptiness in them broke your heart.

“No! You listen here, you fucking string bean- you don’t get to do this. You can’t just… just push me away and expect me not to worry. You can’t just text… text me something like that and not expect me to come running to- to fucking keep you from being stupid! What the fuck am I supposed to do without you?!” You were openly sobbing now, practically screaming at the boy who all but held your entire world in his hands. “You’re all I have! You can’t just-just leave me behind and expect me to move on- who am I without my other half, Larry? Who am I?!”

He scrunched his eyes closed, tears streaming down his cheeks again, as he shook his head.

“If you fucking kill yourself, I’m going with you. And you can’t stop me.” You knew it was a dirty trick to play, guilting him like this when his soul was this ravaged and he was so vulnerable- but you were being honest. What would you do without him in your life? What about Sal? God, what about poor Lisa? He was so dear to you all, so loved, and he was ready and willing just throw it all away-

“[Name], I-I can’t take it anymore- I just- the cult shit, that demon, the ghosts! The fucking whispers- they’re dri-driving me insane! I‘m not like you or Sal- I can’t handle this shit anymore!” He finally breaks down into heaving sobs at that, burying his face into your shoulder, and dropping the bottle in favor of a bone-crushing embrace that you readily return.

You kick the bottle away from Larry, as far as you can get it, and quietly thank whoever will listen when the cap pops the rest of the way off, spilling the amber liquid and the mostly dissolved remnants of pills onto the tree house floor.

“…Why didn’t you just tell me? Or even Sal. Someone. You know we’d do anything for you, Larry, absolutely anything.” He didn’t reply, just shook his head and pulled you closer. What the fuck was was this place doing to him? You had to get him out- get him away- Larry’s phone vibrated from the other side of the tree house, but you elected to ignore it, praying whoever was calling was also smart enough to find you both before things got any worse.

He sniffled, hiccuping into you shoulder, “I’m so sorry, [name]. I didn’t mean anything that I said the other day- or anything I said in those other arguments. I just- This- this place is.. I think I’m going crazy-”

You shushed him, smoothing a hand down his hair and he devolved into body-wracking sobs that shook you both with the sheer force of them. Your soul ached for the boy you had known almost all your life- the boy you grew up with, shared secrets with, made countless memories with, and loved with all your heart.

Why didn’t you see this coming sooner? “I know, Larry, I know. This place- there’s something still wrong with Addison apartments and we’re gonna get you out of here, forever. I promise.”

“I-I’m so, so sorry, [name]. Please... Please don’t leave me.”

The rain continued to pour in violent sheets outside, but you distinctly heard the frantic voice of Sal, calling Larry’s name, as he ran towards the tree house. You had never felt such absolute relief in your life, even with Larry clinging to you like a lifeline, and the stain of his near-death slowly seeping into the floor of the tree house just behind you.

“I’m not going anywhere, Larry. I’m with you, always, no matter what happens.”

—fin—

WHEW. I tried to make it so you could read their relationship as either romantic or platonic, and tried to stay as neutral as possible in gender as well! I hope this is alright, and I hope you like it! I’ve actually never seen the Hunger Games so I kinda went my own way ♥

I’d also like to use this space as a PSA:I’ve struggled with depression and suicidal thoughts and tendencies my whole life- don’t let your depression convince you that you are trapped or alone or unloveable. I know its hard, and there’s no easy fix for it, but there are things in life that make it worth sticking around. Even if its something as silly as looking forward to a new game or story or waiting for a flower you planted to bloom, there are reasons to keep living. Please be kind to yourself and remember, even if we’ve never spoken or interacted or existed in the same space, I know that you are worthy of being loved and cared for and you are not alone.

If ever you feel like you are truly alone in this world, please reach out- there will always be people out here willing to lend a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, and a friend to those who feel lost ♥ I know i will always be open to anyone out there in need of a friend so, please, never be afraid to reach out!

#sally face #sally face headcanon #sally face imagines #sal fisher #larry johnson #my writing #reader insert #xreader #larryxreader #i know the link will make this not show in the tag #but i wont take it out #it needs to be there #tw: suicide #tw: Depression

44 notes · View notes

hannybkpop · 4 years

Text

Noona, Can’t we be more than friends? PT. 1

HAN JISUNG AU / Fluff?

(this is my first one shot don’t hurt me)

“Noona” you can hear Jisung from across the room but don’t bother to look up.

“Noona~” he says with a little whine added to get your attention, he knows you can never say no when he does. You decide to look up at him but he seems to be looking down drawing something on a piece of paper.

“Why call my name if you have nothing to show” you roll your eyes and start looking down at your own book.

You are currently at lunch hanging out with your best friend, Han Jisung. You have known him since you were 5yrs old and he was 4. Nothing has ever came in between you guys and go everywhere together people always say you guys are dating. But that’s not the case here, you guys are just best friends you cant think anything other wise, He has just been someone you could rely on.

“Look Here! You wont hate it, i swear” He says as he puts the paper to his chest with his left hand and raises his right to the air. You can hear him giggle a little bit to himself and you cant help yourself but smile.

You look up to see what he drew, and to your surprise it was blank.

“so what am i supposed to be looking at?” you ask puzzled.

“Oh! oops wrong way” he laughs to himself and turns the paper facing the correct direction.

It was a beautiful drawing of a Rose, it was red with a hint or a dark maroon. You were always amazed at how good Jisung was at Drawing and how fast he could do it as well. Meanwhile you love reading romance books and wouldn’t have it any other way.

The bell rings signaling the end of lunch and its time to get ready for class. You sit through the rest of the school day wondering what Jisung and yourself were going to do.

The end bell rand and everyone was getting ready to leave.

“So what are we doing today? Arcade, karaoke, all you can eat buffet?” jisung asks while packing his books in his bag.

“Can we tag along?” you hear Hyunjin ask while holding on to Chan and Seungmin.

“Sure! the more the merrier” you respond. “I think today we might go to the arcade and then to grab dinner, lets head home and get ready and we can meet around 5. sound good?”

Everyone nodded their heads in unison. You grab your bag to start heading out and you can hear Jisung leaving with his friends out the door. There was something about today, Han seemed different, was it the way he was calling you noona? you couldn't help thinking to yourself and it was bothering you but what was this feeling you keep having. You decided to brush it off and blame it on the book you were reading.

It was 4:45pm you were wearing dark blue skinny jeans with a black crop top and white lifted shoes. You wore your hair down completely straightened parted down the middle and with very light makeup.

“I think im all set” you say as you check yourself through your mirror.

“Ill be back, im going to hang out with Jisung and some friends”, you yell out the door heading towards M Arcade.

You arrive to the arcade and see your group of friends standing out front. Jisung stands out from the all. He is wearing Black and white skinny jeans with a big black over-sized shirt tucked in from the front and a black cap. Jisung looks up at you and you both make eye contact. he couldn't help but blush at the sight of you, but you do the same. You both look away from each other.The guys cant help but laugh at the situation and you glare at them.

“Lets go inside before the arcade closes, and don’t forget we still have to go eat” Jisung says half way through the door.

“So whats going on between the two of you?” Seungmin asks with a smirk.

You hit him with your elbow as you walk inside brushing off his little question.

You guys decide to play a round of bowling and couldn't help noticing that Jisung Was Watching you the first few rounds. It made you so nervous you kept getting the ball in the gutter and everyone was laughing at you. It was finally Jisungs turn again and you decided to get back at him. You got up and walked to the little air socket where you dried your hands if they started sweating. You kept and eye on him and as soon as you saw him let go of the ball you called his name.

“Jisung-ah! look!” you say as surprised as possible.

He slightly moved his hand the and the ball ended up going towards the gutter

“Noona, you made me miss this strike i was about to get” he says as he turns around to look at you while crossing his arms across his chest.

“sorry, but like this air feels amazing on your hands and i wanted you to try it. Maybe it would help you stop starring at me, not like it has anything to do with it.”

Han looked at you confused but intrigued at the fact that him starring was bothering you. He started to smirk and he made eye contact with you.and wouldn't break it. You didn't want to back down so you kept that eye contact until you heard someone in the background.

“Excuse dear love birds but we would like to keep the game going” Chan said from the back. His little statement making both of you guys nervous and looking away. But that didn't mean Jisung was going to stop anytime soon.

The game went on for a couple more rounds and you and Jisung kept trying to distract each other from making a strike from calling out each others name to slowly to using the snacks you ordered. The game finally came to an end and Seungmin took first then Chan, yourself and jisung lost to you by a point.

“ I tried so hard and this is what i get, i lose by a point” Jisung was pouting and looking your way trying to get pity from you. But you should laugh at him since it was his fault it all came down to this.

You guys decide to head to the arcade part of it all and play a couple games you both decide to compete against each other at basketball.

“Bet you cant beat me” Jisung says while looking at you.

“Bet $20 dollars i can” you respond with a smile.

“Lets make this a little more interesting and whoever loses has to do whatever the other person wants” Jisung says with a smirk.

You don’t know what Jisung is thinking but you couldn’t back down now that something even bigger was thrown on the table making things more interesting. something in you knew what was about to happen but that wasn’t going to stop you.

“Deal, loser has to do whatever the other person says” you agree to his terms and shake hands.

Both of you guys were so focused on each other you forgot about Chan and Seungmin tagging along, but they didnt mind at all since they wanted to finally get you guys together.

the basketball game started, Jisung was making in shot after shot while you were making every other one. you Knew you didn't want to lose because having Jisung do whatever you wanted Was Something you never thought of but liked the idea. Yet Jisung was trying his best to win but Why? What are his motives?

You lost by three points and Jisung was cheering in the Corner happy at the thought of winning and then you notice him look at you his eyes so mysterious making you wonder what Jisung had in store for you.

This was a side of him you have never seen before but something about it intrigued you to find out more. Which made you think to yourself do I like him?

“ Hey, are you okay? does it hurt to lose?” you can feel Jisung teasing you wanting to rile you up.

“Don’t worry I wont do anything to embarrass you I promise” He says as he walks up to you.

He kept walking closer until his face was an inch away from yours, both of you guys making eye contact not breaking away from each other. You could feel your heart beating faster and faster. Not knowing what this feeling was but intrigues by the fact you could be in love with your best friend.

“Are you ready for whats going to happen next?” jisung asks while a big smirk comes across his face.

Thank you for reading this far! this is my first every written fan fiction so if you guys have any pointers or things i could work on feel free to comment down below or DM me. I accept constructive Criticism but if you are going to be plain rude please keep scrolling. Thank you

#han jisung #jisung au #JISUNG #han jisung au #kpop fluff #kpop #kpop fan fiction #straykids #stray kids fan fiction #jisung fan fiction #han jisung fan fiction #stray kids #stray kids han #stray kids jisung #stray kids han jisung #au #kpop au

15 notes · View notes

thefinalcinderella · 5 years

Text

Tsurune Fanbook Interview w/ Director Yamamura Takuya

Someone from this post requested that I translate an interview, so I decided to do the first one with the director.

Please tell us how you felt when you were chosen as the director for “Tsurune”.

I was surprised when I was told that I would be Tsurune’s director. However, since kyudo is also a new genre for me, I thought that I would try by all means. I read the original novel, and kyudo terminology was explained in great detail, so I began by understanding all of that, but I was confronted by the difficulty of kyudo. “I don’t understand it at all…” I thought. (laughs)

Were there any parts that you studied yourself?

I studied a lot. I went to the library to search for old reference books, but the more I learned, the more I realized what a profound sport it was. Afterwards, I went online to try looking up real-life high school kyudo and other things like that, and got to know the students’ everyday language and the details of their practices. As a result, there were even more confusing parts instead. The differences between the kyudo schools and the practice methods are different depending on the high school…(laughs). I heard from the author of the original novels, Ayano Kotoko-sensei, that a single school was referenced in the novels, so I matched to that. When I read the novel, I learned that kyudo had two sides to it, “martial art” and “sport,” so I puzzled over how to show it to make that easy to understand.

I especially felt the impression that the depiction of kyudo was very carefully done.

That is largely due to speaking with members of the staff who have done kyudo. I would go to ask them to the point of annoyance for every single episode. Even so, when it was checking time, there would be mistakes. The most common one was the right hand drawn gripping the arrow at the draw. The arrow is only placed on the hand, but since not all the staff members had a deep understanding, misunderstandings like that happened no matter what. In order for I myself to understand it, I looked at the high-ranking archers who were filmed for interviews and the shooting of those who do kyudo for high school extracurricular activities. For extracurricular activities, there were also people who shot in jerseys, and it was very helpful to see the movement of their feet, which is different from those who wear hakama.

It seemed that actually conducting interviews was useful.

I saw a lot of things that couldn’t be answered by or seen in books. Among the stories I heard from the interviewees, there was the story of someone who actually had target panic. Like Minato, they couldn’t get better at all and wondered if they should quit kyudo. However, they continued on with encouragement from their friends and recovered. There is an infinite variety of target panic conditions, but there are kids who made adjustments to be able to hit the target even while they had it. Also, there are also those who miss in individual competitions, but in group competitions, their hitting rates mysteriously went up, perhaps because they were shooting with teammates. Any story that couldn’t be understood unless there was a way to see it in reality was precious.

On top of animating kyudo, what other things were you careful about?

I felt it when I was reading the novel, but it takes a considerable amount of time for a complete amateur to hear the technical terms of kyudo and understand it within themselves. That’s why, as a work of animation, we’ve decided to show it all in pictures rather than explaining with words. It was the interviews that were helpful to me at that time, and I, an amateur, depicted what I saw for myself during those interviews as they were, so I think it is easy to understand even if one is new to kyudo.

As the director, what did you focus on for animating the original novel?

As expected, that will be the master-disciple relationship between Minato and Masa-san. Minato recovered from his target panic by meeting Masa-san, and Masa-san was saved by meeting Minato. I took great care with that especially. I just did not want to overdo it. The reason is that I don’t think it was related to why they won the last group competition. And so, with Minato and Masa-san’s relationship as the focal point, we carefully extracted the relationship between Minato and Seiya, as well as the ones between Minato and Ryouhei, Nanao, and Kaito, from the original work, and unified them into one series.

Were there any parts that were hard to put in the script?

The spiritual part of kyudo is important, but if we describe too much of it, then we won’t be able to convey the appeal of the sport of kyudo itself. That was difficult, and the script meetings were rough going. In terms of results, the series composer, Yokote-san, skillfully representing the spiritual parts that are tied to kyudo through the words of Tommy-sensei and Masa-san.

Please tell us what you paid attention to during the process of creating the characters.

Simplicity and persuasion are important in creating characters. Kyudo is said to be a gentle sport, and there are no enemies. You face yourself, think by yourself, and shoot your bow. I wanted to depict this gentle world. We took care to convey it from pictures. However, we precisely and firmly decided on the aspects that needed to be decided. I discussed with the staff many times about precisely differentiating the depiction of “stillness” and “movement.” Also, the silhouettes of the characters were very important. Minato and the others had just ascended to high school from middle school, so their bodies are slender and dainty. That’s why they were designed to have some immaturity left in them, even though they have the height and other things.

Was there anything you were specifically conscious about?

For this time, I was very careful about the expressions. I especially fussed over Masa-san’s expressions, since he becomes a completely different person just by widening his pupils a little bit. Also, I was careful about his slightly mellow and graceful expressions and the shape of his jaw, since it becomes no good if they were even slightly off. Also, I asked that the characters as a whole have strong, purposeful eyes, but actually, the size of the highlights in Minato’s eyes change little by little when watching from the first episode. The transformation from the Minato who lost sight of himself to the Minato who became OK and held confidence in himself was expressed even in there.

How about the five boys of the Kazemai High School Kyudo Club? First, please tell us about Minato. It was hard to depict Minato. I thought very deeply about what I wanted to do with him. For that reason, after considering him suffering from target panic and tasting failure and thus becoming obstinate and making that point the main focal point, as well as taking into account the atmosphere of the novel, I decided to make him a character who could convey his feelings properly by himself. By strengthening the impression of him being a high school boy, I could settle myself down with a thump.

How about Seiya?

I had the impression that he is a boy at risk. I understood why when I considered the reason in the novel, and my chest tightened a lot when I was reading it. The anime is different from the novel, as it went in the direction of rescuing his identity. In Episode 10, I wanted Seiya to recover himself with the words “Because you were there for me, Seiya” from Minato. I wanted him to do kyudo with the feeling that he was fine as he was. However, perhaps Seiya would be saved in the true sense of the part of the original sin further in the future.

How about Ryouhei?

I envisioned a character who overflowed with the energy to draw everyone to him. In the second half, there are many occasions where characters like Seiya and Nanao stood out, but Ryouhei’s cheerfulness, that was shown in various places, helps me as a director and helps the story.

How about Nanao?

I really admired him, thinking, “You’re amazing, Nanao.” He is quite mature. If Seiya is a child covered in the skin of an adult, then Nanao is an adult wearing the skin of a “shallow and flighty boy.” The presence of him who strikes at the heart of a matter is indispensable for a work.

How about Kaito?

Looking at the work from Minato’s perspective, Kaito might seem like he is playing an unpopular, obstinate role. However, from Kaito’s point of view, he doesn’t know Minato’s circumstances, and he is actually the kind of fluffy and delicate guy who quickly changes the things he says. If Minato in the first episode had said at the information session that “I want to do kyudo even if I have target panic!”, I think he’d probably say, “You’re pretty passionate…do it.” (laughs). Actually, at the information session, he was unable to just watch Minato being in a bind, and helped him for himself by lending him an arrow.

Minato’s childhood friend, Shuu, also left a strong impression.

For Shuu, Minato is his “bow friend.” In Episode 13’s flashback, he was measuring the distance between him and Minato when he first met him, but when Minato told him, “I just wanted to see your face before I go home,” he acknowledged him as his friend. The scene of Shuu’s back at that time is the image of a light named Minato shining into Shuu’s narrow and confined world.

Seiya and Shuu’s relationship is also interesting.

It might be easy to misunderstand, but Shuu does not actually dislike Seiya. He acknowledges Seiya’s skill as an archer. That’s because Seiya was chosen as a regular right after he started at Kirisaki Middle School. His ability can be said to be a cut above the rest. However, Shuu felt it was regrettable that Seiya’s natural ability was smouldering due to his attachment to Minato. That’s why his “You don’t love kyudo” line that he said bluntly in Episode 8 seemed like a harsh scene, but was actually Shuu sincerely conveying his thoughts in his own way. But because there weren’t enough words, it was interpreted in that kind of way. That’s just how important kyudo is to Shuu.

The music is very memorable. What sort of orders did you give the composer, Fuuki Harumi?

I requested that the music would give the image of “leaves dancing in the wind,” based on the novel. And so, the main theme was completed. The motif used there was also reflected in the other pieces. However, when that main theme was applied, one might realize the development of the competitions, so we carefully ordered it separately depending on the scene. For example, for the match against Kirisaki in episode 13, we drew the storyboards for only that scene and gave it to Fuuki-san beforehand. And so when I listened to the finished music, I thought, “This is incredible…” From there on, the storyboards were finely adjusted according to the music.

Did you have any difficulties on the direction side?

I had trouble with depicting the kyudo scenes. All of them end up having the same image composition. It’s a sport that fundamentally doesn’t move from the spot, and only half the face can be seen from the back. I thought that if that’s the case, then I would show it from the front, but they all ended up becoming similar images… Therefore, for the kyudo scenes, I tried to show the differences with composition tricks that could only be done with animation. I think that episode 13 could not be drawn unless you went to conduct real-life research and interviews.

Please tell us your favorite scenes.

Of course all of them are my favorite, but if I have to be specific, it would be Minato and Masa-san’s scenes in the early parts, the scene when Shuu first appears, and when Kaito says he wants to make his bow turn. Also, perhaps Seiya. Seiya in episode 9 is so painful to see that I couldn’t stand to watch anymore…

The female members make an impression.

At first, I was thinking about how to incorporate the female members into the work, and then I decided to put them in the roles of the level-headed and mature girls, in contrast to the still immature boys. However, there was no point in just them being there, so in inserting the depiction of the girls deepening their bonds with the boys little by little, that leads to episode 12. So, it was in episode 12 that they were completed as the Kazemai High School Kyudo Club in a true sense. This is a digression, but during the scene where Ryouhei drags Minato and Seiya to the kyudojo in episode 1, you can see the three girls in the passageway behind them. That is Seo introducing Shiragiku to Hanazawa.

Please tell us your thoughts after production is finished.

Since I’m also a first-time director, it was very difficult. However, I felt that I had properly depicted the story of Minato’s rebirth, so I have no regrets. On top of it being my first time directing a series, there were a lot of things I didn’t know, but this was the only thing I was determined to do. That is “penetrating the hearts of the audience.” All of the works that have remained in my heart so far had cut me to my heart. That’s why I think about how to penetrate the hearts of the audience everyday, and I think Tsurune is the crystallization of that.

That really is, “Struggle, youth!”

Yes. I remember using those words when I had a meeting with Fuuki Harumi-san. Before I knew it, that had become the slogan (laughs). I’ll be happy if that is also conveyed to everyone who watched the show.

Lastly, please give a message to the fans who watched Tsurune.

I just want to say how thankful I am. You are trying to get to know the work known as Tsurune that you even got this book, so I think you truly loved it. Thank you all so much for loving Tsurune!

#tsurune #tsurune fanbook

69 notes · View notes

side-effect-of-the-meds · 5 years

Note

Okay so its okay if u dont do this, i underdstand but if ever you do im wondering what Aaron's reaction is once he finds out what happened to Erin? Im just desperate for twinyards. How does he take it and will he ever find out what happened to her in all those foster homes and her scars?

Sorry this took so long, love! You’ve probably lost interest but here’s the answer anyway. I’ve got another request for Twinyards so I’m saving the scars bit for that.

They were only playing around when it happened. Katelyn had been riling Aaron up since he’d walked through the door, teasing him, laughing at him. The breaking point had been when she started to tickle him.

“Katelyn, stop,” he gasped through fits of laughter.

“Say please,” she cooed. Aaron could barely catch his breath, let alone say please. Instead, he caught her by her wrists and flipped her over so he sat straddling her. Pinning her arms down on either side of her face he closed the distance between the two of them. He speckled kisses all over her face. Katelyn laughed at the ridiculous display of affection from him. As he pulled back, he saw her face flushed with her arms pinned on either side. Her long blonde hair had come unbound and was splayed across the white bedsheets. Suddenly, the sheets were soaked red. The hands pinning her down weren’t his own. They were far too big to be his. Drawing his gaze back to Katelyn’s face, it wasn’t Katelyn he had pinned down. In her place was a face identical to his own, haloed by pale gold hair. Tears streamed down the girl’s face. Manic laughter echoed through Aaron’s head.

“Erin!” he shrieked as he toppled off the bed. Scrambling backward, he felt his back hit the door. Aaron felt as if there were chains binding his torso. He clawed desperately at his chest, trying to tear off chains that weren’t really there. He couldn’t breathe.

“Aaron. Aaron, it’s me. It’s Katelyn.” Aaron’s gaze snapped up to see Katelyn kneeling a foot in front of him. Her hands were outstretched, hovering around his face. He grabbed them and cupped them around his face. Sobs wracked his body and he felt Katelyn get closer. She dropped a hand from his face and wrapped her arm around him. She drew him into her lap. Aaron didn’t know how long he sat there crying, only that Katelyn didn’t leave him the entire time.

It had been three weeks since Erin had been shipped off to Easthaven. Aaron hadn’t even known that she was leaving. Josten had been the one to tell him. The words had barely left her mouth before he’d shot out of his chair, knocking it over in the process. He’d torn down the hall and flung open the front door. Aaron had run all the way down the street before collapsing to his knees. Digging his hands into the ground, he ripped hunks of grass out and screamed up at the sky. He curled up in a ball and lay there for a few seconds, minutes, hours. Something nudged him and he turned to look up. A hand had appeared out of the sky. For half a second, Aaron thought it was God coming to save him from his misery. It was only Josten. He smacked her hand away and got to his feet on his own. Trudging back to the house, he wiped the tears from his eyes. He smeared snot all over his shirt sleeve but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“What did you think running was going to accomplish?” Josten asked him when she found him searching for answers at the bottom of a bottle of Jack Daniels. Aaron just stared at the floor.

“Why are you different?” he whispered. He looked over at Josten. A frown creased her brow. “I know you’re not that stupid,” he spat. “Why does Erin treat you differently? What makes you so special? Why does she do things for you?”

Now it was Josten’s turn to avoid his gaze. He watched as she shrunk into her sweater. No. Not hers. The sweater she wore belonged to Erin, a Christmas present from Nicky. He had watched his sister chuck it in Josten’s face before they’d left for the drive out here. After a few endless minutes, she finally answered. “Because we’re the same,” she whispered.

“What do you mean?” Aaron asked. With a sigh, Ania told him about men with sharp smiles and roaming hands. She told him about their stale alcohol breath and the weight of them bearing down on her. She told him about a boy in Millport that’s shoved her up against the lockers so many times that she’d lost count. Tears slipped from Aaron’s eyes against his will. Little by little, the pieces of the puzzle clicked together.

“That’s why you never come near us,” Aaron said softly as she finished her story. He watched the slow nod of her head. “Josten.” Her eyes remained glued to the floor. “Ania,” he said. Slowly, she dragged her gaze up to meet his. “I hate you but I won’t ever hurt you,” he said. A small smile tinged her lips. Aaron could have sworn his soul left his body. Even tired and broken, Ania Josten was stunning. Not as stunning as Katelyn, of course, but she had her appeal.

“Erin would kill you if you tried,” she replied. Aaron huffed a laugh. She was right. Brother or not, Erin would never stand for him doing anything even remotely resembling what the two of them had survived. “You know, it’s 2 a.m., right?” Aaron cursed softly and Ania’s smile grew. “Get to bed. I’ll drive us home in the morning.” Aaron let her take the bottle from him and trudged up the stairs alone. He felt a shard of pain wrench his heart as he passed Erin’s room. Collapsing into his bed, he let his exhaustion drag him into sleep. That night he dreamt of dark red blood smeared across golden hair and pale wrists.

---

Loving his sister was undoubtedly the hardest thing Aaron had ever done. In the three years that he’d known her, she had always shut him out. A lot of it made sense now. Her last brother had been a disgusting excuse for a human being. How could she expect Aaron to be any better? Sitting in the booth at the diner, Aaron found himself resenting the fact that all the Foxes were together. As soon as Erin was out of the picture, Kevin and his cousin had started cozying up to the upperclassmen. A pang of guilt always stuck him in the gut as he felt the Katelyn’s arm wind around his waist. As soon as Erin was out of the picture, he’d started cozying up with Katelyn in front of the others too. Didn’t that make him just as bad? That night he let Katelyn kiss him until his brain couldn’t form a single coherent thought.

Laying beside her, he traced patterns across her exposed stomach. All of the cheerleaders were pure lean muscle. All except Katelyn. Unknown to most, her uniform hid a layer of fat on her abdomen. Katelyn had been self-conscious about taking her shirt off in front of him the first time but it hadn’t taken him long to convince her he loved it just as much as the rest of her.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he’d asked. “It’s the world’s most heavenly pillow.” Katelyn’s bright laughter had filled the room as he rested his chin on it. Staring up at her, Aaron was convinced that he was staring right at the sun. Being so close to the sun would only burn him up and Aaron knew it. Hearing her laughter, Aaron decided that he wouldn’t mind if it was for her.

Now as she lay sleeping, Aaron felt soft and sleepy himself. Warmth bloomed in his chest at the sound of her murmuring his name softly in her sleep. A thought cut through his sleep-addled brain. Could Erin ever have this?

Aaron knew that his sister deserved someone who loved her more than anyone he’d ever met. But who? Kevin definitely wasn’t good enough for her. Matt seemed fond of her but that didn’t seem quite right either. Erin needed someone who understood what she’d been through. Someone who wouldn’t push her any further than she was willing to go. She needed someone who’d whisper her name like a prayer.

There is someone, Aaron realized. His thoughts turned to a person with a smile that could easily light the stadium all on its own. A person who always took no for an answer, and so, was never denied a single request. A person who he’d once heard whisper, ‘Jude’ in her sleep like the prayer of a sinner on her deathbed.

Loving Erin Jude Minyard was damnation itself. Aaron knew his sister was all hard lines and sharp edges. She was all vice with no discernible virtue but Aaron didn’t care. He had spent his entire life feeling sorry for himself, believing that there wasn’t a soul in the world more deserving of salvation than his own. From the moment he’d laid eyes on the empty shell of a person that Erin was, he’d known he was wrong. Never before had Aaron felt such shame as he did when he realized the depth of his own selfishness.

Being raised by a drug-addict and her endless string of short term boyfriends only bought Aaron so many concessions and he knew he’d used them up long ago. Aaron’s self-centeredness had hurt more people than he cared to admit. He was no saint and he didn’t have any intention of becoming one. Still, some small part of him wondered if he lived out the remainder of his life trying to make amends for all he’d done before maybe, just maybe, he’d get to glimpse his sister standing behind the gates of heaven on his way down to hell.

The next morning at practice, he watched a girl who’d once outshone the sun collapse into herself like a dying star, sucking up every shard of light and joy as she went. Watching her, Aaron began to think he’d found the only person who cared more for his sister than he did. Erin deserved better. He was sure of it but they were Foxes. They’d never get what they deserved. Settling for less was an art form that every one of them had been forced to master.

Screwing his eyes shut, he prayed with sincerity for the first time in a long time. “Please,” he whispered. “Just let my sister be happy. Even if it’s with Josten. With Ania.”

14 notes · View notes

dolanbrows-blog · 7 years

Text

Subjects // Ethan Dolan Series Part 1

Summary: When Ashley and Ethan, no more than familiar faces to each other are paired together for an art project, they’re forced to cross boundaries neither of them had suspected they would ever have to.

Woohoo? I’ve been so reluctant to posting this, because I feel it’s a bit lacklustre since I haven’t really written in a while, and I don’t have a particularly big following and have a severe fear of rejection :’)… As first chapters go, I hope this isn’t too cringey or tedious for anyone to read, and I can promise that the excitement prevails in later chapters. I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1.74k

WARNINGS: None, other than the occasional swear

8:29 AM

“Fuck.” I hissed, pulling my finger from my mouth. I watched blood spread down the side of one ridiculously over-bitten nail as I walked steadily to art class, scowling as it ran down the back of my hand. It stung.

As I stared at my hand, using my sleeve to mop up the blood, the class bell rang down the hall, signalling that I was late. “Great.” I muttered, picking up the pace. I jogged up the final flight of stairs, eventually rounding into the classroom; my worn Vans squeaked against the floor, attracting the attention of my entire art class and Mr Wells, my teacher.

“Late again, Graves?”

I hesitantly opened my mouth to offer an excuse, before being cut off by Wells. “I believe everyone has paired up for this project, aside from Dolan.” A quick nod towards the space where ‘Dolan’ was sent me on my way towards him with my head down.

I sat beside the boy as instructed, not giving him a second glance. He- Ethan- responded to the action with a small shrug as we both turned our attention back to the front of the class.

“As I was saying,” Wells continued, “Your final project of the year is one which revolves around the duo; the ideas formed through the dynamic of two people.”

As he droned on, I turned to Ethan, who was scribbling what seemed to be initial ideas for this new project. I tried to glance over at what he was writing as subtly as possible- as being someone I’ve barely exchanged a sentence with, I found myself intrigued into how he worked.

“Ashley, right?” I jumped when he suddenly whispered, his eyes fixed on the notebook balanced on his jean-clad thighs, “Do you need a band aid?”

My eyebrows furrowed. “I noticed blood on your hand.” I turned my attention to my still-bleeding finger.

“Uh…sure.” I replied, puzzled as to how, and why he had noticed such a detail. With his eyes not leaving the notebook on his lap, his left arm reached for his backpack under the table in which he dug around for a few seconds, before pulling out a small band-aid packet.

He slid it across the table, where I reached over and took it, unpeeling it and wrapping it around my finger.

“Thanks.” I whisper, receiving another shrug in reply.

“So by the end of term, I want a full mixed media portfolio of work from each pair, with whatever focus you decide on amongst yourselves.” Mr Wells continued, propping up his glasses. “You’ve got this lesson to begin planning, and from then every class will be spent building up your sketchbooks, etcetera. Any questions?”

9:12 AM

An entire half hour of the lesson was wasted on me, scribbling down whatever I could brainstorm, getting rid of the crappy ideas with the eraser on the end of my pencil, and making the biggest pile of rubber debris that I could.

My huffs of frustration were drowned out by mass discussion of ideas from every other pair in the class; people that didn’t arrive late to class, who got the choice of who they worked with. Not that it would’ve made a difference , I thought to myself, glancing at the faces of my classmates. It’s not like any of them speak to me anyway.

Quick tapping turned my attention to Ethan, who I had almost forgotten about. Out of the whole class, we were the only silent ones, aside from his thumb repeatedly tapping on his notebook, as, I presumed, he was mustering up more ideas for the project.

He’s not unpopular, right? I furrowed my brows. “Why didn’t you work with a-” I cut my accidentally spoken thought off with an audible gasp.

His thumb stopped tapping against the paper, and for the first time his attention was drawn away from the notepad, and onto me. “Why didn’t I work with a friend?” He finished my question with a raised eyebrow. His lips were slightly parted as he waited for some sort of reply.

I remained silent, gulping as I couldn’t think of anything to say. “Because I don’t have any. Not in this class, anyway.” He shrugged again.

Ethan’s dark eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at me, almost as if he were assessing me in some way. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, noticing his sharp jawline clench slightly before he leant back in his chair.

I rolled up my jacket sleeves as I felt myself heat up for some unknown reason. “What…what are you looking at?” I questioned, uncertainty in my tone. His body shook slightly as he let out a quiet chuckle. He shook his head, leaning towards his backpack again with one arm, using the other hand to comb through his hair: mostly dark, aside from the few lighter strands at the front.

I watched as he pulled out a sketchbook from his bag and folded it open to a blank page. Picking up his pencil, he began to mark out something, still making occasional eye contact with me. I began to frown.

“What are you doing?”

“Drawing you.”

I remained puzzled.

“We’re supposed to be discussing ideas, Ethan. I don’t think this is-”

“If you keep moving, you’re going to screw up the proportions.” He bit his lip in concentration.

“This…is weird.” I muttered, leaning back in my seat. “We’ve never spoken before, and all of a sudden you’re drawing me?”

“Well…drawing is my ‘thing’, and I’m presuming you haven’t come up with an idea yet?”

I shrugged. “Well, no- we haven’t-”

“So I’m going to draw you, Ashley, until either one of us comes up with something good. You can link a portrait to any topic, so I’m just getting us ahead of the rest of the class.” He smirked up at me.

9:29 AM

I stared at Ethan’s hand as he drew for several minutes, before the loud ringing of the bell blasted through the room. Mr Wells dismissed himself, due to needing to leave for another lesson, and the rest of the class began filing out of the room. I pushed my chair out from under the table, and stood, only to be cut off by Ethan who had stayed put.

“Have you got a free period?” He questioned.

“Uh…yeah, but I was gonna-”

“Sit back down and let me carry on?” He tilted his head towards me somewhat condescendingly.

I looked towards the door and sighed, sitting back down. “I guess I could stay for ten minutes or so.”

Ethan looked up at me as a reference, and I noticed a small smile playing on his lips. I pushed my hair out of my face and frowned. “What?” I asked, letting out a nervous laugh as he chuckled, looking down at his page.

“You wanna see?” He grinned, twiddling the pencil between his fingers.

I shrugged, and Ethan turned his sketchbook around towards me. “I’ve only done the outline and started shading in a bit of the face, but-”

“Dude.” I cut him off, my lips parted. I smiled. “How’ d you do it that good that quickly?” I questioned in disbelief. What he had drawn so far was undoubtedly me, and despite the fact that I tried to avoid coming face to face with my appearance regularly, I couldn’t help but gaze at the detail in the shading he had done.

Ethan laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s alright, I guess.” He spoke, taking back his sketchbook and continuing. “So, if drawing is my thing, what’s yours?” Ethan suddenly asked. I pouted in thought, leaning my elbows on the table.

“I’ve recently gotten into street art, and I’d like to think im alright at that.” I answered, fiddling with my watch. “But I’d have to say photography is my strong point- although there’s not really anything I don’t enjoy experimenting with.” My tone still slightly unsure, yet the previous exchange of smiles reminded me Ethan was no one to be anxious towards.

After watching Ethan concentrating for a while, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Instinctively, I pulled it out and unlocked it, seeing that I’d received several texts.

Dad: I’ve been given an interview for the city job, honey

Dad: It’s on Saturday morning- would you be able to come with me? You know how things are.

I smiled at the screen, typing back a reply.

Me: I told you things would fall into place! I’m so proud of you. I haven’t got any plans for Saturday, so of course I’ll go with you. Also, remind me later on to get your prescription :)

“What are you all happy about?” Ethan’s voice made me look up. “A special someone send a cute-”

“A special someone? Me?” I scoffed. Ethan frowned.

“What’s funny about that?”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. “I mean…compare me to, I don’t know, every girl in our art class. I’m not exactly-“ I stopped, glancing at Ethan who was still frowning in my direction. I sighed. “Why am I even…no. It was a message from my Dad, Is all.”

“You shouldn’t compare yourself to other people. What’s the point?” He spoke.

I swallowed, folding my arms and avoiding eye contact before looking at my watch. “I, uh…have to go.” I sniffed, packing away by things and standing, all the while Ethan followed me with a stare.

“I…didn’t mean to say anything wrong- I-”

“No,” I cut him off with a weak smile, “it’s not you- I just have to go.”

“Okay, well before you do, can you give me your number? In case either of us get ideas?”

I nodded, twisting round to pull the nearest piece of paper from my bag.

“I got'cha.” Ethan said, pausing my actions. He stuck his arm out across the table, and rolled a pen in my direction with his other hand. I leaned over and wrote my number onto his forearm, before passing his pen back and settling my bag strap.

“See ya.” I said quickly, walking away from Ethan and out of the classroom.

As I walked down the corridor, my phone vibrated once again. I pulled it out of my pocket and read the notification.

Unknown number: Football field tomorrow after classes? Bring your camera. -E

I tapped in a reply, saving his number as Ethan Art.

Me: Why the field? - Ashley

Seconds later I received a reply;

Ethan Art: You’ll see.

#ethan dolan #dolan twins #dolan #ethan and grayson dolan #ethan and grayson #grayson dolan #youtube #cute

55 notes · View notes

nearcromancy · 7 years

Text

43 notes · View notes

luucarii · 7 years

Text

Persona 5 Ramblings

this shit is long. like really long.

and I sound like a crazed fangirl so....

MAJOR SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. IM TALKING ABOUT LIKE ALMOST EVERYTHING BUD!!!

also, i curse way too much in this... apologies in advance

also, happy father’s day even though this has nothing to do with it :)

THIS IS ALL BACKGROUND ON ME BEFORE I GOT THE GAME SKIP TO THE NEXT BOLD PART IF YOU WANT TO HEAR MY OPINION ON THE GAME ITSELF.

Okay, so I’ve mentioned vaguely how Persona 5 is my first encounter with the Persona series. I’d heard bits and pieces about the series but I never really understood the concept of Persona until maybe mid April of this year. I was on spring break from school and I don’t remember how exactly how I stumbled across it but i found this playthrough of Persona 5 on youtube and I was mildly interested. So I clicked on it, and into the emotional rollercoaster that is this game i went.

At the time, there was only about 11 episodes of the play through (each around an hour long) so I binged watched each episode ending up with me staying up past 2 am. I was just so invested. The opening drew me in the minute the camera showed off that smug little bastard Joker’s smirk over the casino (I’ll get into why I love this kid and the rest of the cast later). I was confused since I was going into Persona 5 with no knowledge of the whole concept of Personas at all. I was kinda just like “wow this looks badass. What is he doing? Oh my god, this game is so pretty.”

I ended up skipping around once I got tired of waiting for a new episode and watched this long ass livestream. I got to about Okumura’s Palace before there was nothing left for me to watch but the boss battles uploaded, which did spoil me a little bit and got me a bit confused but I was so interested that I honestly didn’t care. I was so surprised at Niijima’s Palace and her boss battle as a whole and was like “SHIT THIS IS THE BEGINNING OF THE GAME!!!! OH MY GOD EVERYTHINGS BACK”

From there, I skipped straight to the traitor - aka Akechi’s battle - and can I just say, I was not surprised that he had a Persona but I was surprised that he betrayed the group considering all the story shit I skipped. Shido’s fight was fairly interesting to me but again, I skipped a bunch of story shit so I was really just rooting for the Phantom Thieves because this was THE ASSHOLE WHO GAVE MY POOR LITTLE AKIRA A CRIMINAL RECORD.

Skipped a bunch of shit again and onto the fight with Yaldobaoth. At this point I was drawing a lot of similarities to Xenoblade Chronicles, fighting a God for freedom and then THEY PULLED THE WHOLE BELIEF THINGY (which they did at the end of Okami as well) AT THE END WITH MISHIMA AND THE REST OF TOKYO BELIEVING IN THE THIEVES AND I WAS SOBBING LIKE A LITTLE BITCH AT 2 AM.

And after that, I made it a point that one day I’d play this game for myself. And it was maybe a few days after that I finally got the game.

Now at the time (and still now) I didn’t own a PS4 and was forced to use my brother’s when he was at work. Adding to the fact that school was beginning to start up again, I had at most maybe 6 hours to play a day if homework didn’t take up all my time. So what might’ve taken me a few weeks to beat took me almost 2 months to beat because of timing.

BUT OH WELL, I HAD THE GAME, I PLAYED THE GAME, I LOVED THE GAME AND NOW IM GOING TO SQUEAL LIKE A FANGIRL OVER EVERY ASPECT OF THIS GAME THAT I ADORED.

GAMEPLAY

Okay, so I’ve played my fair share of JRPGs and Persona 5 was a nice familiarity. All the dungeon crawling, the fighting, turn-base combat, ya’ll get it.

BUT UM THESE DUNGEONS (Palaces if you would) ARE FREAKING GORGEOUS, HELL THE GAME ITSELF IS GORGEOUS.

Each Palace and their respective Shadow ruler has their own design, personality and each are based on the seven deadly sins which (after finishing FullMetal Alchemist a few months earlier) I thought was clever and interesting.

Kamoshida’s castle was a nice balance of a first dungeon and “hey we’re not gonna hold your hand, this is fairly simply kill some Shadows, find the infiltration route and don’t get kicked out.” ALSO RYUJI AND ANN’S AWAKENINGS. JUST THAT. INCREDIBLE.

Madarame’s museum had a little bit more difficulty but was still fairly easy. The security bars kinda gave me a little anxiety considering I was still getting used to all the controls (I had just finished an Xbox One game before playing this so my buttons were mixed up) and the little painting guessing game was a bit dumb considering each Sayuri looked EXACTLY THE SAME TO ME (except the color swapped ones) ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING YUSUKE WAS THERE AND COULD HAVE EASILY TOLD US BUT NO HE WANTED TO TEST AKIRA’S ART SKILL. ARE YOU APART OF THE PHANTOM THIEVES OR NOT YUSUKE??????????

but i digress…

Kaneshiro’s bank was fun but GOD SEND THOSE FREAKING SECURITY CAMERAS AND THOSE SHADOW DOGS TO HELL OH MY GOD I HATED THOSE. See my thing is, I’m not exactly a stealthy person. Which is why I love hiding because you can sneak up on Shadows and ambush them easily. I hate raising security level and those damn dogs were so annoying and just ugh. Those dogs are honestly one of the few grips I have with the game. Also, MAKOTO IS THE ACTUAL QUEEN.

Futaba’s temple was by far the longest one for me in terms of gameplay hours (in game time took me about 2-3 days) but it was still fun nonetheless and I’m glad Futaba (who is one of my favorite female characters) got some closure on her story with her mother and was able to rise above that. I’m a sucker for tragic backstories when their well executed. (i still to this day do not know how to pronounce her Persona…)

Okumura’s spaceship was my favorite aesthetically because I’ve always been interested in space and the stars and the little puzzle at the end with the space pockets was a nice bit of challenging and flying through Metaverse space. ALSO HARU HAS FLUFFY FLUFF HAIR AND HAS MY SECOND FAVORITE PHANTOM THIEF OUTFIT

hmm, i wonder who has my favorite Phantom Thief outfit... Joker... It’s Joker... god damn those red gloves

Niijima’s casino, which OH MY GOD WERE BACK TO THE BEGINNING AND AKECHI’S WITH US AHH, and WHIMS OF FATE IS BEST PALACE THEME.

It was my favorite palace, no questions asked.

Shido’s ship was another long one but finally getting revenge on this dick was incredible. Also, AKECHI AND RYUJI PLAYING WITH MY FEELINGS.

Mementos was a good idea as a whole but the way it was executed everything just sort of blended together for me and there were only a few requests that stood out to me. The music was bland (one of the blandest on the soundtrack, especially compared to the other Palace themes casually mentions Whims of Fates again) and during the late floors of Mementos, everything got so dark and it was really hard to see.

CHARACTERS

expect this to be me screaming a lot.

Akira Kurusu (Protagonist)

okay, um, i love this boy. like a lot. LIKE I WOULD DIE FOR HIM.

For a silent protagonist this guy sure has a lot of character. The rare times he speaks in cutscenes, specifically the ones where he’s Joker, he has this sort of cocky arrogance yet when he’s little Akira in his Shujin uniform he’s a quiet little curious boy. He’s incredible under pressure, like there’s only a few things that make him crack and his dialogue options are priceless.

I especially love Joker because I’m an honest to god mess when it comes to smug bastards and I have an unhealthy love for those crimson gloves of his.

But honestly he doesn’t deserve half the shit he gets in game. Besides the whole “game” set up by Yaldobaoth, he was sent away from his family and presumedly the friends he had back in his hometown all because of his probation, literally no one treats him with any sort of respect when he gets to Shibuya. Sojiro reminds him countless times the first what 3-4 months that he’ll be kicked out if he breaks his probation which (besides doing all that illegal shit as Phantom Thieves) he honestly just goes to school (a place where he gets even more shit from teachers and students), hangs out a little after and comes straight home. I know Akira’s been established to have a bad reputation because of his record but don’t these people have eyes??? Can’t they see that he’s obviously not a bad guy based on what he’s doing in school and not getting involved with the police??? Sojiro's exempt from this because he at least grows to like having Akira around and trusts him enough to go out at night, work in the store alone and lock up from him when he leaves.

AKIRA IS A GOOD BOY WHO DIDN’T DESERVE ALL THE SHIT GIVEN TO HIM

Also, Xander Mobus did a good ass job with his voice

Ryuji Sakamoto

see this post that basically sums up my feelings on this boy.

Also, Max Mittelman.

Ann Takamaki

CAN I JUST SAY ANN IS ONE OF THE BESTEST FRIENDS IVE EVER SEEN???????

Like she went through all that shit with Kamoshida, the harassment, possibly rape, all for freaking Shiho’s sake. Just… wow. That’s some freaking loyalty there. Shiho's the closest friend she has at Shujin (at least before the events of the game) and God knows how long she went along with Kamoshida’s bullshit all for Shiho. I mean I may sound a bit repetitive but holy shit that just amazes me. SHE. ENDURED. SEXUAL. HARASSMENT. ALL. FOR. HER. BEST. FRIEND. And the minute she watched Shiho’s suicide attempt that was it. Any last bit of restraint she had left broke and she went full on at Kamoshida all for revenge for her best friend. My god.

Onto her confidant ranks, Ann is just a charismatic bundle of joy who just wants to make people happy. Yeah she butted heads with that girl (forgot her name…) and did fall down a little in terms of confidence but Akira and Shiho helped her through it and brought her back on her path of what she wants to do… Just ugh, I love Ann so much.

Yusuke Kitagawa

Yusuke’s a fan favorite and for good reason.

His backstory about how Madarame took him in after his mom died and overlooked his painting which led to the later plagiarism is an interesting one and I love how the Sayuri, the only thing left to connect him to his mother, is an important factor that leads to his realization of “oh shit this guy’s a dick who watched my mom die without helping her and he used me for money and fame.”

As a character though, Yusuke’s freaking weird. But i love him because of it. He has his formal tongue but that formal tongue casually overlooks any weird shit that comes out of his mouth. He doesn’t give any flying fucks about what people think of him and he speaks his mind like there’s no tomorrow. I still crack up at the nude painting scene with him and Ann because his mix of awkwardness and passion to paint a nice ass picture is just incredible. Also, another thing. He’s. So. Damn. Passionate. Like he ties art into everything, even fighting Shadows and he’s always looking for new ideas for paintings.

Also, Matt Mercer

Makoto Niijima

MAKOTO IS QUEEN.

She’s not my favorite female, that role goes to Futaba but she’s definitely number 2.

I genuinely have a love for the Niijima sisters because they complement each other so well. Sae’s the head of the house who also works tirelessly just to support her younger sister and it’s clear to see why Makoto would feel useless. She’s a high school student and as a student you really can’t do much that’ll pay the bills and keep food on the table unless you have a job which Makoto’s student council president and (i’m assuming) is in everything so it’d probably be hard as is to get a job and be of some sort of use to her sister. Then Kaneshiro comes around threatening her and Thieves and her sister and she just doesn’t want to feel useless anymore. She wants to do something after being forced to sit back and watch other people be counted on. And just, ugh, her awakening is by far my favorite out of all of them just because of everything behind it and just MAKOTO IS AMAZING, CASE CLOSED.

Also, Cherami Leigh.

Futaba Sakura

By far my favorite female as I feel our personalities are pretty damn similar. Besides her being a hacker and me not knowing anything about possibly illegal things like that, I relate to Futaba as she’s an introvert. She and I value our alone time and (although for different reasons) like being shut in. Now I’m not going to say Futaba and I share the same backstory because my God I’m honestly baffled how this girl went through years in solitude after her mother’s death thinking it was her fault. For one, she WATCHED HER MOTHER DIE IN FRONT OF HER. HOLY SHIT HOW DID THIS GIRL MANAGE TO FUNCTION WITH THAT MENTAL IMAGE IMPRINTED IN HER BRAIN???? AND THEN FOR YEARS ON END SHE LOCKED HERSELF UP AWAY FROM THE WORLD AND BEGAN HAVING ACTUAL PHYSICAL AND VERBAL HALLUCINATIONS AND IF IT WASNT FOR THE PHANTOM THIEVES SHE PROBABLY WOULD HAVE ENDED UP KILLING HERSELF AND I DONT WANT TO THINK OF A WORLD WITHOUT THIS ADORABLE LITTLE OTAKU.

also, i really ship her and Yusuke Inari

Haru Okumura

For one, Haru is freaking adorable, I mean look at her. She has the short little fluffy fluff hair and her voice is so light and feathery and polite and WHY DOES SHE COME SO LATE IN THE DAMN GAME????

I was lucky enough to manage to finish her confidant before the end of the game but when her confidant first opened up to me (getting rank 5 Proficiency was a bitch) at that point I was planning on not doing her confidant at all, I was just planning on getting Baton Pass and ditching her because I didn’t think I’d finish it. I did (at the cost of not finishing Makoto’s, still extremely disappointed on that) and I have to say Haru’s confidant was by far my favorite one out of the ones I maxed out.

Her whole thing is now that her father’s dead, she’s basically the one inheriting everything from Okumura Foods and she never really understood anything to begin with and she thinks everyone who’s trying to help her is just doing it for their own self-gain. Okumura Foods, at this point, is attempting to rise back up after all the shit her father put the company through and all the current bad reputation it has. Haru’s never had a chance in her life to make things for herself. She’s always been told what to do and has been very obedient (even agreeing to marry a literal dickhead all for her father’s company) and suddenly she’s given all control and doesn’t know what to do with it. All these happy smiling faces offering their help just seem like people attempting to take advantage of her incompetence. Akira helps her through it like the amazing boy that he is and Haru ends up finally being able to speak her mind about the company and what SHE wants to do. She gives the company up to someone who she believes is trustworthy and decides that she’ll one day open a small little cafe like Leblanc in the future after college. And honestly, just her overcoming her distrust and her previous shell of being obedient to rising up and making her own decisions it makes me so happy and proud to see her grow and change and just UGGH I LOVE EVERYONE IN THIS DAMN CAST.

Morgana

This cat, literally this cat. HE BELONGS WITH AKIRA AND THE REST OF THE THIEVES NO ONE CAN CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE.

Loud-mouthed, a little bit arrogant, Morgana is just an amazing character in general for me. I know Ryuji’s technically supposed to be the comic relief (and he does fulfill this role, don’t get me wrong) but I feel Morgana takes this spot too, especially the two bickering like an old married couple. I know some people hate on Morgana because of how he treats Ryuji and the amount of “go to bed” memes on Tumblr but all around Morgana is just a cat who was just looking for a place to call home. He was just looking for people to accept him.

And a part of me honestly hopes if there’s an add on for this game in the future, Morgana gets a human form because I’d love to see that.

Also, please tell me I’m not the only one who still mixes up Morgana’s gender. I still sometimes call him a her just out of habit because I can’t hear Cassandra Lee Morris as anything but a girl.

Also, Cassandra Lee Morris.

Goro Akechi

OKAY SO CONTROVERSY??? MAYBE??

I LIKE AKECHI

NO FUCK THAT

I LOVE AKECHI

LIKE HONEST TO GOD THIS BOY DESERVED BETTER.

Don’t misunderstand, I know he killed people. I know he caused all those shutdowns and was planning on killing the Thieves and eventually Shido himself (which now begs the question, say he did kill Shido, what next?)

I’m not denying anything he did. And yes, his backstory (although extremely saddening) does not justify his actions. He knew what he was doing and he still did it.

Akechi took the wrong path in his life. If anything you can sort of compare his story to Futaba’s in the sense that they both lost family members and were left with nothing. In Futaba’s case however, she still had people trying to help her. She had Sojiro who took her in after her uncle was abusing her or something and she had the Thieves who literally changed her heart and made her see the truth.

Akechi had absolutely nobody.

His mom died (suicide if I remember correctly), he was thrown into foster care, his own father (seriously, fuck Shido. Not just because of how he was with Akechi but everything in this damn game) didn’t even knew he existed. He had no acknowledgement, no affection, nothing. He was forced to make do with what little scraps he could find and make a life for himself.

Again, don’t misunderstand me. I know he killed people and his backstory does not justify his actions because he knew what he was doing was wrong. I’m just saying maybe if he had someone, anyone who was there to help him out, to pull him out of his misery he most likely would have been a different person. He wouldn’t have had his revenge for Shido be his only reason for living and he wouldn’t have gone out the way he did. It’s hard not to feel bad for him. He’s been alone all his damn life and all this guy really wanted was a friend, some teammates, people who wanted him around. I just wish Akechi had gotten a way to repent. I hate the fact that he died. One because we lost a good character and two because I genuinely believe that he wanted to change at the end. Akira changed him. The Thieves changed him. I wish he had gotten an ending where he could own up to his mistakes and be able to make up for lost time.

Just… ugh.

I’m apart of the “Akechi deserved better” group.

And I also ship Akeshu really really really hard.

Also, Robbie Daymond was freaking fantastic.

VERDICT

THIS IS LONG ENOUGH SO LET ME SUM IT UP IN A SENTENCE.

PERSONA 5 IS AMAZING, I LOVED IT.

#ari speaks?#long post #persona 5 #tw #p5 spoilers #I honestly could write about this game all day #sorry for the long post #i needed to get this out #just i absolutely loved this game

3 notes · View notes

apsbicepstraining · 7 years

Text

FA Cup third round: 10 ties to look out for this weekend

Ailing Bolton and Aston Villa ogle vulnerable at Eastleigh and Wycombe, Exeter v Liverpool retains its enticement amid TV meddling and Chelsea might just imagination their Cup chances

1) Eastleigh wave non-league flag against Bolton

Previously excellent known for subsisting leukaemia and subsequently being pecked to within an inch of their own lives by emus on Soccer AM while wearing a hair made from lettuce and cookies in the name of charity, Eastleighs young Welsh manager Chris Todd has every right to imagination his Hampshire slopes chances of advancing to the fourth round at the expense of Bolton Wanderers. The only non-league area left in the challenger, Eastleigh sit fourth in the Conference and have been bankrolled to the pitch of PS3m by their sugar daddy, Stewart Donald, in recent years. They figure the former QPR winger Lee Cook and the ex-Nottingham Forest defender Dan Harding among their ranks, two musicians who wont have come cheap. Of course Bolton Wanderers have abundance of Championship experience more, having played poorly enough in the schism this season to find themselves fastened to the bottom of the table as well as PS173m in debt, the subject of a winding-up order from HM Revenue and Customs, under a move embargo and resigned to the possibility of having to sell their best musicians during this January window. These are dark epoches at the Macron Stadium on and off the lurch, with makes good and staff members doubtful when or if they are able to next getting paid. With securing Championship survival almost certainly a priority for Neil Lennon and his musicians, Eastleigh love could be forgiven for being more expectant than hopeful of hitting them in the compact environs of the 5,192 -capacity Ten Acres and going into the move for round Four. Barry Glendenning

Sachin Nakrani: what on dirt has gone wrong at Bolton ? All the latest news from the Conference

Listen to the husk on the FA Cup

2) Senseless timing impairs famous night for Exeter

It ought to beggar belief that the powers that be have done their utmost to make an ordeal out of “the worlds largest” petitioning tie in a glean short of traditional Cup romance. But here “weve been”, and if it seems self-defeating that supporters of a competition whose lustre remains difficult to maintain are being actively inconvenienced then it is worth reminding ourselves that we should not be remotely surprised by now. It would be fascinating to hear the logic of the BBCs decision to move this fixture to 7.55 pm on a Friday night 90 hours after the last train of the day departs Exeter St Davids station for the 250 -mile journey to Liverpool but that is the capability broadcasters have. It is gonna be a fine date when their requirements are drawn up with half a thinking for matchgoing love such as the 1,347 away partisans who will nonetheless attain the journey. Liverpool shall not be required to be require too much assistance in disposing of League Two resists but asking them to fulfil this tie-up three days after a Tuesday night League Cup semi-final at Stoke City was surely not necessary, either.

None of this scold should, of course, detract from a famous party for Exeter City and their excellent director, Paul Tisdale. Their league form four consecutive overcomes does not bode well for a amaze but they might just have caught Jurgen Klopp, who had to recall the almost-forgotten Tiago Ilori from his loan at Aston Villa the coming week to partly offset a lack of available centre-backs, and his team at a good time. St James Park will be rocking a sight that should make good video. It is just a shame that little else seem to be concern. Nick Ames

Klopp to arena young, inexperienced Liverpool against Exeter Puzzle-loving Oakley establishes Exeter clues how to defeat Liverpool

Paul Tisdale: hats entertainment. Picture: ProSports/ REX/ Shutterstock

3) Aston Villa should go for transgressed to avoid a shock

This tie yells sicken louder than most and perhaps Remi Garde would be well advised to make good usage of an early opportunity to experience belt-and-braces life in the Football League. Wycombe Wanderers, sixth in League Two, are still some style from filling Aston Villa on a level playing field but Gareth Ainsworth has assembled an impressive area that they are able to hope to bounce back from a home overcome to Morecambe last weekend. In Garry Thompson and Paul Hayes, Ainsworth could plain a strikeforce with a combined age of 67, but Wycombe aim for a high-energy style and Villa boosters may as well hope their team have entered into a same flavour of things. It has all been downhill since Theo Walcott opened the tallying for Arsenal in the 40 th instant of last seasons final; even if Wembley supports a few chastening recognitions, any pause from the weekly grind will seem like a comfort at the moment. History should encourage them to go for purposes: Villa obligated League Cup visits to Adams Park in 2003 and 2005, winning 5-0 and improbably 8-3. NA

Cole completes free convey to Coventry City from Aston Villa Garde craves Arsenals Debuchy to join Aston Villa

4) Resting players has burnt Allardyce in the past

The holders get their recent defence of the accolade underway and they do so in the knowledge that Sam Allardyce and Sunderland are not especially fixated on the booty. Allardyce has had a particularly chatty week but his decrees about the FA Cup dedicated pause for imagine. Of direction Im going to make changes, said Allardyce, pointing to the fact that Sunderland will play Swansea City on Wednesday as part of a full conference curriculum. If the Premier League decides to made a stupid fixture midweek when they dont bloody need to, then I havent got much choice.

The Premier League would argue that it does vicious is a requirement to, with Euro 2016 among the factors truncating the domestic calendar, but Allardyce is far from incorrect and this regrettable segment of planning provides a ready-made excuse for directors in need of Premier League points to give their big musicians a weekend off. It would be wise for Sunderland devotees to prepare apprehensions even lower than usual, then, although Allardyce might recall that it does not ever pay to rest actors in anticipation of future troubles. Two years ago, the then-West Ham manager reached nine changes fielding the youngsters Seb Lletget, Dan Potts, Danny Whitehead, George Moncur and Callum Driver for a third-round knot at Nottingham Forest, with a League Cup semi-final first leg against Manchester City merely three days away. If a 5-0 defeat at the City Ground was not entirely unexpected; the 6-0 thumping when senior participates recalled at the Etihad was emphatically not part of the masterplan. NA

Allardyce ready to rebuild Sunderland around Defoe Wenger presents Arsenal injury update and rulers Sanchez out

Sorry, your browser is unable to play this video.

Sam Allardyce didnt “ve been meaning to” disturbed Jurgen Klopp video

5) A jam-packed residence could swell Oxford Uniteds hopes

Things are seeming up for Oxford United, who have sold out their 12,000 -capacity Kassam Stadium for only the third time in its 15 -year biography with the prospect of murderous a Premier League nose. Michael Appletons team are third in League Two and on route both for advertising and the very highest position in 15 times. The midfielders Kemar Roofe and Liam Sercombe have scored 19 league purposes between them and both in particular the former West Brom youngster Roofe are attracting envious gazes from abroad. Oxford parcels a punch but they find themselves stingy, very: they have confessed merely eight durations in 12 residence plays and Swansea City might have wished for the purposes of an easier assignment before next Wednesdays face-off with fellow relegation contenders Sunderland. The proclamation that Alan Curtis will stay on as director until the end of the season has provided a timely shot of stability( irrespective of what it might advocate about the past months search for Garry Monks replacement) but it has not been able to has become a astound if subconscious were elsewhere. The Kassam roar tends to drift out of the three-sided stadium and across the car park behind its open terminate, but perhaps it will be more audible than ever on Sunday lunchtime. NA

Napoli reject PS1 4.1 m Swansea bid for Italys Gabbiadini

6) Cureton eyeing chance to put Everton to sword

Dagenham& Redbridge have led a captivated life in the previous two rounds of this years FA Cup. Despite trailing 2-0 after only seven times of their first round replay against Morecambe, they acquired it into the second round where they again needed a replay , not to mention extra-time, to get past lowly Whitehawk from English footballs sixth tier. The League Two golf-clubs reward for these exertions is a trip-up to Goodison Park, where they will face an Everton team that have played twice since the Daggers lodged it to Exeter on 2 January, although it remains to be seen how many first team regulars Roberto Martinez battlegrounds pondering his crew has Premier League visits to Manchester City and Chelsea in the week ahead.

One Dagenham& Redbridge player unlikely to be phased by the prospect of lining up at Goodison Park is Jamie Cureton, even if, like most of his team-mates, the 40 -year-old has never played there before. In his 22 nd season as health professionals footballer at his 14 th guild, the striker actually obliged his professional debut for Norwich City against Everton in 1994, but has stated that, despite all those miles on the clock, this is the biggest FA Cup competitor of their own lives. There arent many grounds I havent played at and before the reap I was looking at that and thinking what a great draw Everton would be, he said. Its another one to cross off the listing. One could be forgiven for presuming Dagenham& Redbridge would have a better fortune of overpowering their Premier League opposition if they were entertaining them at Victoria Road, but having failed to prevail a single league game there all season they may well favor their chances of notching up win on the road. BG

Still back at Dagenham for challenging third stint as administrator Besic, the cultured scrapper which is able turn out to be an Everton masterpiece

Dagenham& Redbridge Ayo Obileyes( second privilege) celebrates scoring his backs third goal against Whitehawk. Image: Steve Paston/ PA

7) FA Cup can provide Chelsea with sole possibility of trophy

Imagine the fun that is likely to be had with this fixture a few short weeks ago. The Twitter memes, the archway observations studying whether Chelsea Chelsea, get onto? could pull off an almighty third-round upset. There is less to wisecrack about now: Chelsea have, at last, strung together a run of improved sort in the Premier League and their relentlessly efficient old-fashioned methods has the potential to be rendering under Guus Hiddink. With neither relegation nor a Champions League place seeming realistic, a concerted tilt at the FA Cup might regard particular appeal and it would certainly placed a few noses out of joint if, given their lucks thus far, Chelsea emerged from this season with one more award than many of their challengers. What hope, then, for Mark Robins Scunthorpe United, who inspect Stamford Bridge for the first time since a 3-1 third-round defeat in 2005? There is always Bradfords stupefying 4-2 succes last-place January, which in retrospect was a harbinger for the lack of care prevalent in the first half of Chelseas 2015 -1 6. Another reverse against League One rivals would appear unlikely, but Chelsea must still treat hurdles like this seriously if their convalescence is to gather tempo. NA

Costa and Oscar separated after Chelsea instructing struggle Win( residence) tickets to Chelsea v West Bromwich Albion

There were issues on the training ground between Oscar and Diego Costa. Photo: Stefan Wermuth/ Reuters

8) Spurs v Leicester City a prequel to a Premier League showdown

It is a foible of the fixture register that this meeting will be repeated a merely three days later, when Leicester City return to White Hart Lane if they meet any degree in leaving at all for a Premier League accord. And not just any Premier League equal: few could have predicted that these two would both be strongly involved in the name hasten at the seasons midway degree, so it remains to be seen whether Sundays meeting determines a bout of darknes puppetry or a full-scale removal of the gauntlets. Mauricio Pochettino has balk wholesale a difference in bowl contenders so far this expression, citing a better understanding of his actors fitness than in his first season, and if the league claim searches up for grabs it is also exhibition to say that any Premier League slope that considers the FA Cup diligently stands a decent likelihood of being honored, too.

Leicester will certainly end to some degree from the formula that has served them so spectacularly in recent months Jamie Vardy will miss out through injury and Claudio Ranieri is very likely to remained others to minimise the the opportunities of their minor stutter becoming anything worse and maybe lead more peril of overstretching through duel on multiple figureheads. One sure thing is that neither director will be interested in prolonging the argument: expect this one to be settled entertainingly on the working day, with the victor having sharpened their stomach by learning off a believable adversary for the trophy. NA

Riyad Mahrez: The Gallery Spurs on verge of signing teenager Shilow Tracey from Ebbsfleet

9) Big spending Derby County there to be shot at

Hartlepool United are currently in the end of a major stun last season when Blyth Spartans, of the Northern Premier League, beat them at Victoria Park in the second round. More of the same seemed on the cards when Salford City , non-league favorites du jour, travelled to the north-east in December but Ronnie Moores team narrowly persisted after a replay and can now are hoping to receiving antagonists whom there is rather less push to defeat.

Derby County are surely there to be shot at: the most recent signs of Nick Blackman and Abdoul Camara returned the Championship slopes spend on transmit fees alone this season up to around PS26m and they are leaving little to occasion in their quest of promotion to the Premier League. Their one-point advantage over third-placed Hull is not something Paul Clement and corporation will want to let slip after that various kinds of spend; Hartlepool, then, will be eager to capitalise if Derbys focus sways and in the 19 -year-old midfielder Brad Walker they have a knack who is surely not much longer for the lower reachings of League Two. The home unit will need a significant improvement on their recent formation, though. They have lost their last four league plays and the danger is that Derby bankrolled by Mel Morris, whose companionship, King, developed the Candy Crush video game will resemble minors in a sweet store. NA

Karanka and Clement, the former Madrid No2s, share No1 target

Scott Fenwick employs Hartlepool ahead in additional time against Salford, helping them on their channel to a third-round meeting with Derby. Photo: Alex Livesey/ Getty Images

10) Championship competitors will have concentrated elsewhere

The money they have invested already is a statement of intent; some of the summing-ups Championship squads are compensating are astronomical. So said Sean Dyche shortly before his Burnley team resumed life in the second rank following their relegation from the Premier League. He was speaking with particular reference to Middlesbrough and Derby County, which is now occupy first and second place in Championship, while his own Burnley team are reasonably positioned back in fifth, 10 points off the pace-setters. With so much money up for grabs just for being in the Premier League next season, its hard to thought anyone at Middlesbrough or Burnley holding even a single boo about the outcome of their competitor at the Riverside, as long as promotion is still a alternative. Any kind of FA Cup run for either team would be a distraction, but not by any means one that is welcome. BG

The post FA Cup third round: 10 ties to look out for this weekend appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2ycWxGS via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress

0 notes

mcanulty-dotoe7ta-blog · 7 years

Text

Give Me Time

What do you celebrate more(prenominal)(prenominal) f regenerateening? A refreshful composing prove elucidate by a curt ovalbumin subject or a thoroughly admirer cosmos located to counterweight at a three-year- gray succession. I dig it depends on how you squeeze paroxysm scarce either self-colouredness nookie be legal injuryful, whether its the pang of the report be intimate or the pocket-size boob that crumbles up wrong of you. I , same round heap learn from an premature age that the paper decamp is the more patent and subgross of the cardinal, except if everywhere judgment of conviction I convey intimate that rejection and cast off is precisely as vexatious and muckle culture night requirement than. slightly clock eras multitude comprehend infliction, which is elegant for a maculation further rotter wash up up your in human smacks subsequently awhile. No curio wherefore on that burden argon a view of he ap line up to the fore in that location depend on pills or addictions to cohere them by means of the agony. They argon in bother, al unrivaled is in that respect a mien of deportment to dr proclaim it with incur thrust on destroying your behavior? Im indisputable there is . I look at pricker to the sidereal mean solar day fourth dimension my begin told me she was dying, Gloria you chatter Im dying discipline? came from my arrests emit as she paused from the narrative she was meter reading me. I was 11 old age old and my leave had mammilla potbellycer. My allows disputation at that epoch didnt tinct me, I cut it since it was championrous to rely. In the months next that bidding I set uping my return convey weak, and frail, and I could depend the irritation in her purify eye al star straightaway free the vista didnt front real. The day my puzzle died was diametric for me. I was woken up at 4am by my grandpargonnts and ab an fooled a marking refreshful coiffure from a intercourse and wasnt certain(predicate) wherefore. The hospital fashion that my set close drop in was desolate with the clear ups early on glitter and had the agile flavour of enough-strength sheets regardn come on of the dryer. This to a great extent weave console me precisely I infer I was the only one who matt-up a the same(p)(p) this, while my myopic grand protoactinium sit by his low lady booster units side praying for her comfort. It was laborious to see my gran pop music and everyone else in the inhabit in so oft periods(prenominal) aggravator and non erudite how everyplacemuch it would hurt after(prenominal) on in my constitutelihood history. At the time my vex offici wholey passed away(predicate) the nurses urbane her in a wacky streamlined garment and lay a pink un thus far orchidaceous plant in her folded makes. She looked tranquil this way which devote got me smart only changeable of what rightfully dependable took amaze. to the grittyest degree a calendar week after my conveys dying my male parent told me I would make for a friend who costd on a bring up in the mountains, as he k stark naked rises were my favourite place to visit because of my respect for animals. alone low and behold my acquires arrangement, wasnt what I come to reside at alone and would jabbing my deportment take d declare a modernistic path. As I arrived at the much evaluate farm I find practic totallyy of cactus and barking dogs and a petite cleaning cleaning mu comprisebrityhoodhood with deuce devilish kids course around. I was super confused, alone was introduced to this forward-looking family of sights. This obedient-natured muliebrity I was meeting was my gives female child of half-dozen months sum her devil children. I knew something didnt control up and my nonplus do avowedly everything matched up wi th his myth with everything that had moreover occurred in my own living story. marrow he told this woman that my pee-pee atomic reactor had been belt upborn since I was deuce, that I had unspoilt arrived from calcium and a whole p permithora of separate rests. I was surprise wherefore would my founding tyro say these things that werent true and how did she be catch ones breathve him? It didnt make backbone to me however I went with my sustains invention and grieved with reveal even well-educated it. briefly this woman and her children became my family and I intentional to non opine astir(predicate)(predicate) how my tone history erst was with a commodity-natured bewilder a intimately evermore move out make and restive Sheppard dog. Months went by riotous I did non conform to in with my new family, I knew the law and I grieved for my aim and snarl so inconsiderate for safekeeping this secret. I would liveliness my pay offs odour aroun d me and I knew things would bewilder demote I only if didnt go to sleep how or when. By the time I reached gritty discipline daydays I eventually told somebody the loyalty and matte up like I was doing my start out conscionableness by grave the truth, I knew my public address system hadnt persuade me and wasnt dispatch to live my life by his lie forever. I essential conduct though ,juggling life with my family and friends was arduous simply because I matte up like I was cater to dickens my friends and my dad when it came to values. My friends would commonly say, your dad is a lair, how could you live with that?. That disceptation forever do me intent like perchance all of this was my fault. at long last when I was a sophomore(prenominal) in amply school I confessed to my sense of smelling render that I was lifetime a lie besides her response was non what I depicted it in mind, your puzzle told me that your obtain died from a champion tumour when you were two. That low description was like a existence slapped in the panorama with a blistering towel. TOP of best paper writing services…At best essay writing service https://easyessayswriting.com/ . platform,students will get best suggestions of best essay writing services by expert reviews and ratings… write my essay cheap The woman you are public lecture to the highest degree was your babysitter, you moldiness ware estimation she was your spawn and therefore she left, repute?. once once again I was floor and disturbed. My induce had very positive(p) this woman that my bring died when I was two and all this mumbo gargantuan that followed? I imagination as she rambled more or less me issue forthting me difficult to get oversight and universe not responsible. in that respect was no convincing my foot flavour draw otherwise wise, scarcely the wretched articulation is I could shed prove it, I had photos I had a paper obituary, I had relatives she could deliver to precisely none of that mattered. I pertinacious to endure soundless and chord with her for a a couple of(prenominal) reasons, in the first place snatch one organism I didnt take to unwrap my start outs own life by weighty his married woman near this lie and having him as well, two wrongs dont make a right? afterward that day my buzz off do me aspect august with one fair statement, why did you put forward her that? .. male parentt reproof about it again. At that point I tangle my pump sink, my father always told me it would be ok, scarce really I speculation it never would be. every(prenominal) through with(predicate) high school most of my step family simulated that I was passage to masses up and be the daughter that my dad was qualification me out to be, flub to goodly for anyone and tiresome .That was intimately prove wrong, I have I had good friends and ha d the believe and get out to be positive. I ended up with the cat-o-nine-tails of my dreams who is unalike my father, I crapper now keep an eye on my draws life and be pass and intercourse about it, and I have the familiarity that life is detestable and heavyhearted tho I or anyone else skunk over come it. I must undertake I still address from time to time about everything in my life, the divide course down my face and I tang a release of emotions thats hard to define. hardly those bulge out where the ones I had to hold in from long ago and its good to let them out now. sometimes I get discompose from be so activated but that is part of my reanimateing. Since everyone experiences pain differently, why not heal differently? I call in I would alternatively call and feel pain thusly let my life through the run off with shame. I craving I could take the hand of anyone who is pain from whatever sheath of pain and just regulate them that Its ok to fe el hurt, its cancel just bash that you can outmatch it, it just big businessman take some time.If you want to get a full essay, graze it on our website: None of your friends is willing to write the best essay on your behalf, … on your own, you have to figure out how to get the best essay cheap at https://easyessayswriting.com/.

0 notes

apsbicepstraining · 7 years

Text

FA Cup third round: 10 ties to look out for this weekend

Ailing Bolton and Aston Villa ogle vulnerable at Eastleigh and Wycombe, Exeter v Liverpool retains its enticement amid TV meddling and Chelsea might just imagination their Cup chances

1) Eastleigh wave non-league flag against Bolton

Sachin Nakrani: what on dirt has gone wrong at Bolton ? All the latest news from the Conference

Listen to the husk on the FA Cup

2) Senseless timing impairs famous night for Exeter

Klopp to arena young, inexperienced Liverpool against Exeter Puzzle-loving Oakley establishes Exeter clues how to defeat Liverpool

Paul Tisdale: hats entertainment. Picture: ProSports/ REX/ Shutterstock

3) Aston Villa should go for transgressed to avoid a shock

Cole completes free convey to Coventry City from Aston Villa Garde craves Arsenals Debuchy to join Aston Villa

4) Resting players has burnt Allardyce in the past

Allardyce ready to rebuild Sunderland around Defoe Wenger presents Arsenal injury update and rulers Sanchez out

Sorry, your browser is unable to play this video.

Sam Allardyce didnt “ve been meaning to” disturbed Jurgen Klopp video

5) A jam-packed residence could swell Oxford Uniteds hopes

Napoli reject PS1 4.1 m Swansea bid for Italys Gabbiadini

6) Cureton eyeing chance to put Everton to sword

Still back at Dagenham for challenging third stint as administrator Besic, the cultured scrapper which is able turn out to be an Everton masterpiece

Dagenham& Redbridge Ayo Obileyes( second privilege) celebrates scoring his backs third goal against Whitehawk. Image: Steve Paston/ PA

7) FA Cup can provide Chelsea with sole possibility of trophy

Costa and Oscar separated after Chelsea instructing struggle Win( residence) tickets to Chelsea v West Bromwich Albion

There were issues on the training ground between Oscar and Diego Costa. Photo: Stefan Wermuth/ Reuters

8) Spurs v Leicester City a prequel to a Premier League showdown

Riyad Mahrez: The Gallery Spurs on verge of signing teenager Shilow Tracey from Ebbsfleet

9) Big spending Derby County there to be shot at

Karanka and Clement, the former Madrid No2s, share No1 target

Scott Fenwick employs Hartlepool ahead in additional time against Salford, helping them on their channel to a third-round meeting with Derby. Photo: Alex Livesey/ Getty Images

10) Championship competitors will have concentrated elsewhere

The post FA Cup third round: 10 ties to look out for this weekend appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2ycWxGS via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress

0 notes