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#but also because I’ve been seeing the most bullshit takes on instagram and people that aren’t my mutuals
agrebel18 · 2 years
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maybe I just need to rewatch “thanks to them” and “for the future” soon because. DAMN.
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alphinias · 6 months
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Just clocked in on the Mariah drama and all I gotta say is that this girl first ruined Madison’s friendship with Rudy HER BEST FRIEND AT THE TIME (she 100% did, we all remember that instagram live where she was being shady towards him and Madison was trying her best to keep it cool “stop, Rudy is my friend”) and now she has also ruined her friendship with her best friend of 6-7 years who she thought of as a sister… either she goes NOW or it’s only a matter of time before she finds a way to even come between Madison and JD’s friendship and ruin that too.
For the longest of time I’ve always thought of Elaine and Rudy being the most problematic and the main reason for the crack into their relationship but I’m not gonna lie, seeing how history is repeating itself with Madison’s best friend got me questioning everything we’ve ever known about their drama.
‘Cause looking back at it Madison and Elaine were actually good friends even after she started dating Rudy, they were nice and friendly to each other, up until they were filming S3 they seemed alright working together…but I honestly don’t recall a single time I’ve seen Mariah interact with Rudy or saying anything nice about him (who once again back then was Madison’s best friend, her word not mine). Whether it was the shady comments in the live, the unfollow or the sus likes it always started with Mariah.
Sadly I’ve seen a toxic relationship up close and I’ve witnessed it happening to my best friend, I’m seeing a textbook like pattern here. I have no doubt now that she plants all sorts of malicious thoughts into Madison’s head about the people she sees as “competition” in terms of influence over her girlfriend. It’s starting to look like she’s onto that toxic “baby, it’s us against the world” bullshit.
At this point I hope they break up, whether it already happened or it’s coming down to that, ‘cause whatever happened it’s clearly not a coincidence that her girlfriend came in between all her friendships and eventually she lost so many people along the way because of her.
(The day she ruins her friendship with JD is the day I buy a plane ticket and personally go take care of business)
I mean I think quite a few conclusions are jumped too here, but I agree, I also didn’t forget the Mariah lives. I am not a fan of her either and haven’t been for a long time. I just don’t tend to bitch about her as much because she isn’t as inserted into everything regarding the show as Elaine. I’m not talking about her just working on set obviously. If they’re not ideal in their personal lives I normally try to stay more out of it.
I think Madison is also someone who jumps hard and fast into relationships and that alone also made me wary from the beginning. It’s definitely made an insane combination, but like I said at the VERY least I haven’t seen Mariah in every bts of Maddie or front and center at every event or literally the only person Maddie interacts with.
If you ask me both couples/partners definitely did their fair share with the drama.
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bookshelf-dust · 2 years
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how did you gain traction with your fics? You and others have inspired me to get back into writing again, and I’m feeling a little disheartened bc I haven’t received any feedback… do you have any tips?? You don’t have to answer, love your work angel x
i won’t lie this made me kind of emotional?? you have no idea how much i appreciate you asking me this or saying that i’ve inspired you. me?? are you sure??
also i’m gonna try my best to answer this for you :)))
i started writing on wattpad before on here, and i did that purely because i wanted to. that’s why i write here too! i’d been writing stories in the notes on my phone and decided i’d revise them and give sharing them a shot. there isn’t a lot that’s made me as happy as writing does, so i guess my main piece of advice is to write because you enjoy it and write what you want. then all the other stuff will come later.
my blog is little and i quite like it that way, but there’s a set of billy headcanons i wrote that have a thousand and some odd notes? which might not seem like a lot to some people but it is to me. honestly i get scared to post so i tend to post things and then go to sleep. but that one is the most notes i’ve gotten. and it’s shocking because i posted that and didn’t think anyone would read it (i have very low expectations for myself).
so really i just write things i’m happy with and i post them and i completely understand the disheartening feeling that comes with a lack of feedback. i really appreciate comments and reblogs because they tell me if someone likes something and then that gives me motivation to write more. i have something i wrote that was the longest thing i’ve ever written, and it’s got less than twenty notes i think. and likes don’t tell me anything, you know? so i try to leave feedback on everything i read because i know what it feels like to not know if anyone is enjoying your work.
as for tips, i have noticed that there seems to be a time zone thing? like if i post at a certain time, no one sees it, but at another time it gets a little more attention? it’s odd. i also try my best at getting loads of tags in there. but honestly i didn’t start using tumblr until 2022 (almost said this year) so i’m still new and learning as i go. and i’m not totally sure about traction, i suppose? i think it depends on the characters too. my gareth work doesn’t do as well because he isn’t as popular a character. my eddie stuff does well right off the bat because he’s more popular, but then it sort of calms down after that. billy does well over time. i think sometimes people might be shy to share their feelings about billy. idk. maybe that’s bullshit and sounds silly.
so i’d say: do it for yourself. if you enjoy it, then write whatever you want for whoever you want. but i know it sucks to not have feedback. sometimes i post and it’s radio silent and it can hurt. and i think there is a definite problem with the lack of responses on here—i’ve seen people compare it to things like instagram where likes mean everything, and that’s not the case here. but really, if you enjoy it, keep at it. i think the good stuff comes later, if that makes any sense. sometimes i feel like quitting, but if i take a step back, i realize that i enjoy it and it doesn’t matter if no one reads it, because i had fun making up this little escapist world.
i don’t know if that was helpful at all, but again i really appreciate you asking me. thank you for reading my crap and for being here :)))
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josiebelladonna · 2 years
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of all the social networks, i think facebook is the one i have the most dysfunctional relationship with. it’s the one i’ve taken the most breaks from, and the one that i wish i could just delete already, and yet i can’t seem to bring myself to pull the plug. i came really close a couple of times, like really close: i was there at the deletion page, but there was something that stopped me from doing it.
i want to rid of it. i want to wake up tomorrow and see it gone forever and instagram its own independent thing, just like how i want to wake up tomorrow and see tiktok gone forever as well.
what’s stopping me, you ask? my dad is on there. so is alex. and my aunt chris. and teababe. and xana.
i don’t give a single fuck about the rest of it, though. the people i’ve on my friends list are either: complete depressive pathetic trash, right-wing nutjobs who don’t listen, people in their 40s/50s/60s who are your typical run-of-the-mill boomers/gen xers or they have empty nest syndrome, people my age who are already entering their quarter-life/”oh fuck i’m turning 30 soon” crisis (been there, done that, can’t help ya) and i look at them and think “it’s 2023. what are you guys even still doing here?”, ai apologists, or just really, really, really boring people, and what’s weird is i didn’t really start taking notice of these traits until about a couple of years ago when the pandemic first hit. there’s only like a few people visible to me who actually strike me as happy or genuinely content with life. i see a lot of people on there who give off this vibe of missing something from their lives the memes are trash or glurge-y or the most cringe bullshit i’ve ever seen or just the same shit i’ve seen and heard a thousand times before on tumblr... what, 10 years ago? jesus. there are so many people on there i just punk the shit out of because they need to be challenged and offended because they have a terrible attitude (like, kristin: “ugh, pop music sucks” | me: “some of it does, but some of it’s actually kind of decent, i don’t make the rules #kristinisthenewkaren #apologiestoanyonenamedkristinwhoisntlikethatatall” - fun fact, i have never seen that woman laugh. not a giggle, not a teehee, never went “HA!”. she’s very pretentious, too: besides being a massive loser stuck in the past and an absolute fucking piece of shit i, i mean, a ~pro-life feminist~ who’s way too much of that for her own good to the point of believing in the theory of evolution but heaven forbid science proves 100 times over that it’s okay to have an abortion, she’s one of those people you look at and you think, “do you even have any hobbies or pets or books or... a sense of childlike wonder? because when you’re not at work, or bragging, you’re navel-gazing pretty much. at least I have hobbies and a dog and a cat, and i’m always wanting to read stuff, too.” yeah. you need to be punk’d, and by a woman no less). i’ve called that place a toilet before, and i’ll really call it that now. also, the groups suck, and it almost doesn’t matter what the subject of said group is now.
i should’ve left 7 years ago when it all started going downhill with the orange running for el presidente.
but i didn’t, though. because i have people i care about on there. otherwise, yeah, i would’ve deleted in 2016. all i can say is that site just needs to die. we need to let it die on its own. it’s old and stodgy and useless and clinical and censors everything and everyone often for no reason (i know it has with me).
the other thing that kills me about it? it’s the one account i have with my real name on it. i’m mostly faceless on instagram (mostly; i’ve shown my face and my name on there before but i’m known as simply badmotorartist and hannah-bal lecter on there), but it’s the one place i’m most myself on - next to tumblr of course - because i can’t do it anymore on facebook.
it’s this really weird conundrum of having people i care about on there but i feel so restricted and it also brings out the hellraiser in me, and yet i’m more “myself” in places where they’re nowhere to be found and my rebellious streak is put to good use. or in alex’s case, lurking and 99% of the time, i forget he’s there. he’s a very quiet one - you know, typical triple scorpio man, he moves very silently until he’s ready to pounce. but this also happened to me with chris all the time; and i get that with joey and eric, too, i forget they’re looking at me all the time. i think that sets me apart, aside from the art, is that i just don’t even think about it, like, “oh my god, chris cornell is following me” or “oh my god, alex skolnick is watching me”, i don’t think about that sort of thing. it surprises me when it’s brought to my attention, like “holy shit, really?” or when it happens initially, but i don’t ruminate on it, mainly because this is the internet. unless you’re sitting behind a paywall or you jimmy with your settings to where you’re left out of a simple search, you’re out in the open and you can be found. there’s something very comforting about that, too.
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justcallmedust · 2 months
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He stayed home from work yesterday, claiming not feeling well which was allegedly from overdosing on vitamins.
The whole thing seemed off. The day before he asked me several times to confirm what time I’d be working the next day and claimed he just couldn’t remember.. yea ok buddy. Then as he’s getting ready oh boo hoo he doesn’t feel well and has to stay home. I leave my car and take his truck so he can maybe squeeze in some driving time with our daughter who has not had enough practice.. but he was unable to do that.
Today he texts me at work about some guy named Tommy who he aupppsedly told me about, well his sister is a nurse and she said exactly what I said about why he didn’t feel well the day before and now he feels better hearing it from her. Some random stranger who just ‘happened to be driving by’ while he told his sad tale of not feeling well to some other random stranger who happens to live where he works.
I was not amused, and I’m not buying it either.
My day at work was horrible.. and I’m still carrying around the awfulness from the weekend.. getting locked out in the rain, yelled at for who knows what. Desperately trying to have a real conversation without him telling me I’m starting an argument or ‘you don’t know how to talk to people’ ‘I’ve been talking you for 20 years that you’re always the problem’. Anyhow, I’m extremely on edge and so very sad I’ve been crying involuntarily even at work.
I guess when I got home, after crying all the way - he could see that I was upset and says ‘what’s the problem NOW?’ And my response was wrong and he keeps telling me I’m mad at him.. which I did not say. Though I am mad that he was apparently unaware that our son had come home because he was ‘out in the garage and didn’t see him’ . This makes no sense to me and he got mad at that too but legit wtf were you doing that you didn’t notice your son came home? And the son inquestion seemed angry with his father.. maybe he saw him with someone else.
Also, someone reported my instagram and got it suspended? I don’t really use instagram much, I post things I make, my cats and funny video game glitches - my last post was over a month ago. I can only imagine someone my husband has gotten involved with is fucking with me.. so I mention this to him and he’s all.. that’s weird I would t know anything.. even tho he’s on that site regularly chatting with people.
So he just went off to bed completely ignoring me and as soon as he goes in there he gets a chat message from instagram. I got up to go talk to him and he’s fumbling with his phone. He states only that I am mad at him and that is why he’s not talking to me.. even tho I stated again that I wasn’t mad. He started to go onto his bullshit ‘now your gonna keep me up and Im the most important person on earth and blah blah. And I said ‘oh right, and walked out of the room and closed the door’. I’m sure he just went back to whoever he was talking to. I guess I’ve been discarded again.
I wish this didn’t hurt so much.
I wish I could get out of this.
I don’t want to live this fake life anymore.
But like why? Why couldn’t I just have my stupid instagram.. he claimed he didn’t even know I had an instagram account, but he was friends with me on it. He never even acknowledged me on there. I know it’s stupid but somehow that alone is so fuxking damaging so fuxkibg heartbreaking and I just want to know why I couldn’t just have it. I never violated anything on instagram. Why isn’t there a way out of this.. I can’t keep living with this I can’t. I don’t want to live in this world anymore. Please just let me go. Please can I just go . Please.
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sirensoftheweb · 6 months
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BeReal, My Ass. Also, Sue Sontag!
By: Andromeda 🌊🪨
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I think I just threw up in my mouth a little. Listen, I know that there’s more than enough hate in the world. I’m not a hater! Really, I swear! There are, however, things that I hate, and one of them is social media platform BeReal. If you’re lucky enough to have avoided this monstrosity until now, here’s how it works: once a day, at random, the app sends you a notification proclaiming, “It’s time to be real!”. This rallying cry comes with a two-minute window for users to take a picture of themselves and whatever they’re doing, to be shared with a network of followers. If you’re me, you hate this already. Like, a lot. If you’re Susan Sontag, you probably have a word or two to say as well. 
In On Photography,  Sontag describes the act of taking a photo as, “a social rite, a defense against anxiety, and a tool of power” (8). The most intuitive connection between this characterization of the photo and BeReal is the social aspect. BeReal posts (or simply ‘BeReal’s) are moments captured, frozen, and packaged as a signal to an audience of followers: and the stakes here are higher than those of Instagram or TikTok. The temporal nature of the BeReal–followers are notified when you’re late to post–strips a significant amount of the poster’s ability to curate an image, and strengthens the tie between picture and life. An Instagram post can happen months late, whereas BeReal demands you to be fun and cool at its beck and call. 
The imperative for the performance of authenticity is in the name itself! Be Real, or be taken out behind the barn and shot! (Fine, it’s a little extreme, but I need you to know how much I hate this app and everything it represents!) And just looking at those bullshit taglines, riddled with buzzwords that suggest legitimacy: spontaneous, authentic, genuine, real. Who the fuck wants to be real? 
I’m reminded of the day of a relatively recent concert in my city. I was at home, enjoying the comfortable silence of parallel play with a friend at home, when she suddenly laughed. She proceeded to tell me that most of the people we knew had posted their BeReals just shy of three hours late. We scrolled through her feed (I myself being far too righteous to have my own account, and just righteous enough to habitually peruse hers), the posts constructing an eerie gestalt of the arena: the same performer, the same time, but all from different people at different vantage points. Some of these people didn’t even know each other, united only by their location, a mutual acquaintance, and the tardiness of their posts. Each had decided to be fake. The importance of the event–or, the importance of the dissemination of proof that they were in attendance–took precedence over bowing to the caprices of the fickle BeReal.  “A photograph,” Sontag writes, “passes for incontrovertible proof that a given thing happened. The picture may distort; but there is always a presumption that something exists, or did exist, which is like what's in the picture.” If a photo is proof of where you were, who you were with, who you are, and BeReal is the vehicle with which to share that information, sacrificing punctuality for the sake of proving a more important event seems logical enough to me. Let the people see that you’re late–so long as they also see that you were within five hundred feet of Harry Styles!
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From the BeReal website. Don't worry, I'm only exploiting people I know in written form.
For someone who’s never been to jail (because I’ve never been caught), I find myself thinking about the panopticon surprisingly often. Well, maybe it’s not that surprising: one doesn’t have to be in jail, or house arrest (or even probation!) to understand the concept of structuring your life around the possibility of being watched. Honestly, I think that it’s the exact mentality that BeReal cultivates (between you and me, dear reader, I’d take the house arrest–hello, free anklet!). It’s sitting under the sword of Damocles, living in a state of perpetual limbo until the thread snaps, the curtain is swept aside, and it’s showtime, baby! Sontag writes of the photograph as an impediment to living: “a way of certifying experience, taking photographs is also a way of refusing it–by limiting experience to a search for the photogenic, by converting experience into an image, a souvenir.”
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Sontag also notes the violence of photography: “there is something predatory in the act of taking a picture. To photograph people is to violate them, by seeing them as they never see themselves, by having knowledge of them they can never have; it turns people into objects that can be symbolically possessed.” The BeReal slightly complicates this idea: in my opinion, it renders the violence more perverse. Instead of taking a photo, BeReal demands its surrender. The subject does possess the power of the photographer, because they are one and the same. But no sooner than they obtain that power, they are forced to yield it, to place their photo–their location, their companions, their incomplete yet forever-sealed self–in the hands of the viewer. Though the violence is self-inflicted, it is no less piercing. Woah! That got serious! Who knew that the power of my hatred for BeReal alone would be enough to fuel my transformation into a quasi-legitimate academic! God, I fucking hate BeReal.
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emmyhem · 3 years
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everything you’re missing (c.t.h)
a/n: hi everybody, i’m back with another post. this is my first calum piece and i’m so excited to finally get it up. this is once again unedited, i’m way too tired rn. it’s also the second smut i’ve posted so that’s pretty exciting as well. yeah i don’t really have much to say right now because i’m literally exhausted, my classes are really kicking my ass. anyway i hope you all enjoy this bff!calum piece. feedback and comments are always appreciated. hope you all are doing well and are being safe. thank you - emmy <33
pairing: bff!calum hood x fem!reader
summary: a drunken text meant for your ex shows up on calum’s phone and leaves him questioning everything he’s missing out on with his best friend.
warning(s): talk of a previous bad relationship, y/n’s ex body shamed her, mentions of alcohol, insecurity, smut, cursing
word count: 4.7k
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You’ve decided that 3 glasses of wine is your happy medium, but even a sip into the 4th and there’s no telling what you’ll do. 
So, naturally you were finishing up your 5th glass on Friday night while angrily scrolling through your exes instagram when you got what seemed to be an incredible idea. It was simply too tempting not to, your mind was feeling hazy which made your confidence skyrocket, and you truly did just look good. 
A day of pampering had left you in a black floor length silk robe with nothing but your favorite deep cherry red lingerie set underneath. Your face was bare and glowing after a refreshing and illuminating face mask, and your lips were left glossy and plump from a new scrub. 
You had posed in front of the floor length mirror in your living room, giggling between snaps until you had taken the perfect shot. It was classy but provocative, the dressing gown slipping from your shoulders exposing the lace of your bra and a tasteful amount of cleavage. You had also left the bottom open, allowing a clear shot of your thighs and the curve of your ass from where you sat on your knees. 
With a mischievous glint in your eyes you selected the picture into a message, typing a cheeky, “take a good look at everything you’re missing”  and sending it off to your ex (or so you thought). 
But you really couldn’t be blamed for your mistake, Cam and Cal were far too similar for your drunk brain to decipher the difference. You also couldn’t be blamed for the fact that you dozed off on the couch immediately after sending it, before you even had a chance to recognize your humiliating mistake. 
You were awoken by the ringing of your phone at around 9:00 am, way too early for your liking. Before even registering who it was, you brought the phone to your ear and groaned a sleepy, “hello,” 
“At your door.” a voice you recognized as your best friend responded. 
“M’coming” you said, scooting off the couch. On your way to the door you registered that you were still scantily covered, the robe falling off of you as you walked. You clutched it around you as you swung the door open to a wide eyed, Calum Hood. 
“G’morning.” he smirked, looking you up and down. 
“Shh” you hushed, pulling him in by the arm. “Why in the world are you here so early?”
He lightly laughed while taking a seat at the kitchen table, eyes following you while you moped over to the fridge and pulled out two water bottles. 
“Well,” he sighed as you handed him one. “I got a very interesting text last night and I figured I just had to come over and see, y’know everything I was missing.” he spoke in a teasing tone as he gestured a hand down your body.
You tugged your eyebrows together in confusion. There was something familiar about what he was saying, but not familiar enough for you to put the pieces together. 
“What are you talking about?” you questioned bringing the water bottle to your lips. 
Calum shrugged his shoulders, a smirk still glued to his face as he took out his phone and began looking for something. After a few seconds he extended his arm to hand you his phone. You accepted it and glanced down absentmindedly as your body slumped against the counter.  
The second your eyes hit the screen it all came back to you, your mouth fell open and you straightened out, suddenly very awake, not to mention very mortified. 
Calum on the other hand was buzzing. Actually, he had been ever since his phone dinged last night awakening him from his sleep. Well, buzzing and extremely, extremely sexually frustrated. 
When he first opened your message and saw the picture that would now be making a regular appearance in his wet dreams, he had nearly choked on his own breath. He knew that it was most likely a drunken mistake, and while that slightly saddened him it didn’t stop his dick from plumping up at the sight, straining uncomfortably against his boxers. He seriously debated wanking to the tempting image but decided against it, thinking it would be a gross violation of your privacy since it wasn’t even meant for him. Oh how he wished it was. Unfortunately that meant he had been sporting an exceptionally sensitive halfie since then. 
“Oh my god.” you groaned, sitting the phone down on the counter and covering your eyes in humiliation. “Cal I’m soooo sorry, I was drunk, and overly confident, and I meant to send this to Cam and now I’m just, I’m sorry.” you reiterated. 
‘Hey, don’t apologize on my account.” he countered. “Plus, you should be thrilled you sent it to me and not that asshole, doesn’t deserve ya.” 
“I know, you’re right. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m mortified though. S’bit ridiculous, get a little alcohol in my system and I have a god complex all of a sudden” you rambled, running your hands through your hair nervously. 
Calum stood and pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head. 
“You think too much, y’know that?” he quipped. 
You turned your head, pressing a cheek against his sweater clad chest and mumbled, “Yea I’ve been known for that.” 
Calum softly chuckled at your words before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head and pulling apart. 
“S’really no big deal, y/n.” a teasing grin plastered on his face. “Besides I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”
“Calum!” you scolded, swatting a hand at his arm. 
He dodged your hit just in time and held his hands up in surrender before taking his seat again. 
“Why'd you let that dick bother you anyway? Y’know you’re way out of his league.” 
Your jaw clenched at the question, your mind wandering to every time you had come to Calum crying after your ex had done something to hurt you. Everytime he commented on your “stomach pudge” as he liked to call it, when you wore a tight dress to go out. Or when he would ask if you were really “that” hungry, even if you hadn’t eaten much at all. And each time you would feel absolutely wretched and end up sobbing in Calum’s arms, but refusing to tell him why you were so, so sad. 
“He texted me the other day y’know?” you muttered under your breath, while fiddling with the coffee machine. 
“Really? What’d he say?” Calum responded, watching your back with narrowed eyes. 
“Uh, he saw me the other night, when we were at that bar with the guys.” you said, shaky fingers pulling out a mug. 
“And?” he spoke flatly. 
“It’s stupid really,” you sniffled, willing your voice not to break. “He said I put on a few pounds, that he was glad he got out when he did.” your bottom lip traitorously jutted out as you turned to face him. 
“Fucking dick.” he hissed. 
Calum wasn’t necessarily proud of the violent images that flashed through his mind at the thought of that asshole finding yet another way to hurt you but, the sad little quiver of your lip allowed him to reason without a doubt that they were fair. 
Before you could even blink he was holding you again, arms impossibly tight around you. . 
“He’s wrong, y/n. Fuck, I don’t know how to even...he’s just so wrong.” he said softly, his hand rubbing your back reassuringly. 
“I know.” you whimpered, holding tears back. 
He pulled back enough to look you in the eyes, arms still firm around your waist. 
“No you don’t. It’s...It really fucking pisses me off that he makes you feel like this. It’s like-fuck you’re just like-” he moved his hands to cup your cheeks. “You really are gorgeous.” 
Your heart fluttered at his words, and your whole body felt warm as you stared at his big brown eyes. His words felt sincere, everything about him felt so sincere. 
“Thank you, Cal.” 
He pulled you back into his chest, “Really wish I could just, like hug away all his bullshit.” 
“M’used to it.” you mumbled. 
“You don’t deserve any of it.” 
“Yea, well what can you do.” you sighed, moving out of his embrace. 
Calum’s eyes were still glued to you as you stirred a spoonful of sugar in your coffee. 
“I hope you don’t let anything he says get to you.” 
You let out a breath of exhaustion. 
Confidence wasn’t something that you used to struggle with. I mean sure, there were spouts of insecurity here and there but you knew your worth, and you considered yourself pretty, hot even. That had all changed a few months into your latest relationship. First it was the backhanded compliments which quickly turned into passive comments, and then outright cruel insults. People really underestimate the toll their words take on others, especially when the person that’s making you feel so ugly and worthless, is one that you adore and who’s supposed to adore you right back, no matter what. 
“I try but, he can’t just be making it all up.” you were ashamed. When did you become the girl that lets a guy affect how she sees herself? That just wasn’t you. 
“He is. He’s insecure and a douche. He was probably trying to destroy your confidence to the point that you felt like you couldn’t leave him.” Calum assured. “But you’re way too strong for him, dumped his sorry ass anyway.” 
You smiled gratefully at his words, taking a seat next to him. 
“Yea, so strong I tried to send him half naked pictures for reassurance.” 
Calum shook his head, “I wish you could see how hot you are.” 
Your eyes widened at the compliment, your head dropping to avoid his stare as blood rushed to your cheeks. 
“I’d be happy to reassure you whenever you want.” he continued, bumping his knee against yours under the table. 
“Doesn’t count.” you dismissed, before sipping your coffee. “You're my best friend, you’re obligated to tell me I’m pretty.” 
“Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.” he muttered back quietly, his expression dropping slightly. He hated when you deflected his compliments. All he ever wanted to do was make you feel good, and you made it very difficult for him when you blocked every swing he took at the wall of insecurity that Cam had built around you. He would kill Cam if he could. 
You let out an apologetic sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. 
“M’sorry, you’re right. I love you for that, the only thing keeping me sane.” 
Your heart squeezed as he hugged you back. 
Calum was perfect, he was sweet, and funny, and quite literally your favorite person on earth. Not to mention you had been hopelessly in love with him since practically the beginning of your friendship. But as his best friend you had heard over and over just how uninterested he was in a relationship. Everytime you would ask about his love life he would just respond, 
“I’m just not the boyfriend type, m’not cut out for it.” shrugging nonchalantly. 
Which you thought was laughable because anyone would be lucky to have him as a boyfriend, in fact sometimes you would let yourself pretend he was yours. 
Like,in a busy club with his hands on your hips, guiding you through the crowds. So close behind, you could feel each exhale on the back of your neck, as his eyes darted around the room to ensure there weren’t any potential threats to your safety, in the form of drunk overzealous flirts. Or after a night out when he got cuddly and clingy, and would find his way from the couch into your bed. You’d wake up with his cheek pressed against your chest and his arms snaked around your torso as he released soft breaths that caused goosebumps to rise on your exposed skin. You’d let yourself imagine that you had this every morning and that he would wake up any minute to smother your face in kisses and tell you he loved you. And of course, here he was again this morning being so thoughtful and kind and everything you wanted in a boyfriend. And here you were again swimming in his praises and physically having to restrain yourself from kissing him. 
Begrudgingly, you pulled away and stood up. 
“Gonna get changed.” you spoke. 
“I’m making us breakfast.” Calum called as you walked away. You hummed in response and slipped into your room. 
Once in the privacy of your own room you quickly pulled on a pair of leggings and a hoodie before scurrying to the bathroom sink and splashing cold water on your face in hopes of ridding yourself of any romantic thoughts towards your best friend.
Although you weren’t aware, Calum was doing the very same thing just a few feet away. Internally reminding himself repeatedly that it was never gonna happen with you. He wasn’t good enough to be anyone’s boyfriend, let alone yours. You didn’t want him that way and he could almost trick himself into believing that he was okay with that.
You hastily finished brushing your teeth before returning to the kitchen. You were greeted with the sight of Calum’s back, he stood over the toaster cutting an avocado and humming a song you didn’t recognize quietly to himself.  He looked over his shoulder as your footsteps approached. 
“Hungry?” he questioned. 
“You have no idea.” you affirmed, as he fixed a plate for you both. 
“Good. I was thinking we could watch something while we eat,” 
“Fine with me.” you responded, hoping he wouldn’t notice the distraction laced in your voice. Your focus had easily been stolen from the conversation to how easy it was to see his back muscles flex through the thin material of his jumper. 
But of course he did, it was Calum after all. 
“Y’alright?” he said, handing you a plate. 
“Uh, yep.” you rushed out. 
“Not still thinking about Cam, are you?” 
“No, not at all.” you answered honestly, walking to the couch, Calum trailing closely behind you. 
“Then what’s got you all flustered?” 
“You” you thought, taking a seat in the furthest corner. 
“I’m not flustered.” 
“Bullshit” he countered, sitting practically on top of you. 
You let out a huff, and motioned to the other  completely empty side of the couch. 
“Is there a reason we aren’t practicing personal space right now?” 
He laughed softly at your question and nuzzled closer into your side. 
“Yea, you’re all pouty, looks like you need a cuddle.” 
 “I’m really fine Cal.” you shoved him lightly but saw no results, he just scooched in even closer and bit into his toast. 
The two of you sat in silence while some newly released action movie played on your TV. Calum’s arm was wrapped around your shoulders keeping you tight to his side, and although you could’ve sworn that you had been in this exact same position hundreds of times, you felt as if this were the very first time. Every single one of your nerves were on fire and the warmth that had flooded your body was making you antsy. 
Feeling overwhelmed by your senses, you allowed your eyes to flutter close with a deep inhale. 
“You okay?” Calum whispered, dipping his head down slightly to reach your ear.
You opened your mouth to respond but didn’t trust your voice to protrude through your shaky exhales, settling for a subdued nod instead. 
“You sure?” his words were long and drawled out, despite your eyes being closed you knew his proximity from the feeling of his breath just behind your ear. 
Before you could speak up his hand secured itself just above your knee, and your muscles flexed involuntarily at the contact. 
“Relax, y/n” he continued, his thumb beginning to run repeatedly over a spot on your inner knee. 
Everything in your brain was screaming at you to excuse yourself, maybe even kick him out, anything to gain some space and hopefully some clarity from the cloud of sexual tension that was looming over the two of you and blurring boundaries at lightning speed. But you were essentially frozen in place, petrified that any movement would alert Calum to the way he was affecting you. 
Your head lolled back to rest on his forearm which was lying behind you on the couch and finally peeled your eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. 
He watched you from the corner of his eye, taking note of every rise and fall of your chest, every thick swallow of your throat. 
If there was one thing Calum was well versed in, it was his ability to read you, he liked to think he knew you better than anyone else in the world. He could tell exactly how you were feeling just by watching you, your face, your breathing and he was more than shocked when he started getting the feeling you were no longer upset but something far more appealing. 
Were you turned on? Right here in his presence? The thought made blood rush to his dick, which twitched in his pants when another breathy sigh passed your lips. 
“What’re you thinking about, love?” 
Everything in you urged you to answer honestly, just tell him the truth. “You, I’m thinking about you. I’m always thinking about you.” But you couldn’t do that, so instead you deflected. 
“What’re you thinking about?” you countered, meeting his eyes. 
Calum questioned his next words very carefully, debating whether or not he could recover if he was wrong about what you were feeling and you shut him down. It was pointless though, he knew he would never recover from your rejection. He also knew that spontaneous combustion wouldn’t look very good on his tombstone and that’s exactly what would happen if he spent one more minute not kissing you. 
Fuck it. 
“That pretty little set you had on last night.” he confessed. 
That you weren’t expecting. 
A quiet whine rang from your throat and you were far too affected to feel embarrassed. 
And that did it, Calum was now impossibly hard in his pants, no doubt leaking precum onto his boxer briefs. He needed to get his hands on you, now. 
His hand started to slowly travel up your thigh, goosebumps rising on every centimeter they passed. 
“So gorgeous in red, aren’t ya y/n?”
“Cal,” you hissed when his thumb brushed the sensitivity of your inner thigh. 
“Mm.” he hummed. “It’d be pretty hard fo’me to stop right now, but I will if that’s what you want. Is that what you want, love?” 
He was sure he’d cry if he had to let go of you now, but he needed to hear you say it. 
“No, don’t wanna stop.” you whined, turning your body flush to his.
“Whaddya want then, baby? Hm?” You could feel his every word on the flushed skin of your neck as he leaned into the crook.
“Want you.” 
He could’ve came then and there. 
“Then I’m all yours.” he admitted before crashing his lips on yours. 
Your heart was in your stomach as his tongue entered your mouth, explorative and eager. He was too busy memorizing your taste to notice your fingers tugging at his sweater. You attempted to push it up desperate to feel his skin under your hands. You were able to pull the fabric up about halfway before they were blocked by his arms that were holding you close against him.
Calum laughed when you pulled apart from the kiss, giving him a disappointed look. 
“Want it off?” he teased. 
You couldn’t bother to be embarrassed when you nodded eagerly in response. He didn’t waste any time peeling the fabric off of his skin, and you were quick to lightly run a finger across the ink feather just below his collarbone. 
Now it was his turn to tug on your clothes, “Level the playing field?” 
You nodded, lifting your arms and allowing him to lift the sweatshirt over your head leaving your chest completely bare. Calum groaned at the sight of your tits, his hands quickly finding your waist and tugging you down to lay on your back in one swift motion. 
Once you were laid out in front of him he took the opportunity to explore the new skin. His hands left a lingering warmth as they dragged across your stomach and despite the kind words and endearing demeanor that he always upheld with you, you found yourself shying under his gaze, wanting to curl away from him. As your hands began to wrap around your stomach in an attempt to cover yourself up he quickly pushed them away, locking them in place on either side of you. 
“Wanna see everything baby, all of you.” he cooed in your ear before nipping at the lobe. 
His kisses began to travel down your neck, sucking a few marks to your collar bones and the surrounding areas. When his fingers grazed over a fresh bruise in the dip just between your neck and shoulders you hissed lightly. 
“You look so pretty marked up for me. All mine, aren’t you baby? Not Cam’s, mine. Say it.” 
“Yours, Cal.” you admitted, feeling your body sink further into the couch. You had never felt drunk off of someone’s words before and the experience was leaving you sputtering, completely compliant to your best friend. 
He hummed contently at your confession, his large hands gripping at your hips, before slowly peeling your leggings off.
“Y’feel so good in my hands, like you were made for me.” his thumbs poking at the soft skin, just beneath your panties. 
The feeling of his hands so close to where you needed them, but not quite there was driving you crazy. 
“Cal, please.” you begged. 
He groaned before tugging at the cotton covering you. “Cam’s a fucking idiot, y’know that? He had the prettiest girl in the world and treated her like shit. I’d never do that, wanna worship you baby.” 
It was ridiculous how overwhelmed his words were leaving you, all desperate and squirming. As his fingers met the soaked expanse of your cunt you couldn’t hold back the throaty moan it elicited. 
A pornographic sigh followed close behind, one that made Calum want to pinch himself to ensure he wasn’t in the midst of a haunting dream. 
“Soaked f’me darling.” he mused, running his fingers up and down your folds to completely coat you in your arousal. You whimpered at the feeling, bucking your hips up desperate for friction. 
Tutting while shaking his head, he used one hand on your lower stomach to press you back down to the couch. 
“Stay still for me won’t you, love?” he cooed, continuing to run his fingers over your core lightly. 
When you bobbed your head up and down in agreement he lifted your leg to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your calf. 
“Hm, good girl.” he praised, softly laying your leg back down. 
Calum hovered above you, dipping his head down every so often to peck at your chest, his fingers still unrelenting. The knot in your lower stomach tightened every second that passed and you felt like you could scream at any second, yearning to be full. 
Calum felt like he could burst any minute himself but was determined to make this experience the best of your life. He wanted to give you something to remember, a reason to want more. 
Your soft moans and frustrated grunts alerted him to your neediness and he was just about ready to give in for the both of you. 
“What do you need from me, baby?” he said against your shoulder before peppering kisses across your collar bones. 
You could only respond with an airy moan when his fingers found your clit. 
“Hm? My fingers?” You shook your head aggressively. He knew exactly what you wanted, the tease. 
“No? Want my mouth?” he teased further, leaving an opened mouth kiss in between your tits. 
“Cal,” you sighed. “Fuck me, please.”
He groaned at your words, nipping lightly at the skin before ridding himself of his pants. 
“You’re a fucking dream, y’know that?” he praised, desperately searching for a condom in his pants. When he finally located one he held it up to you as if it were a prized possession, smiling proudly at his own preparedness. 
He hastily freed himself from the constraints of his boxers and rolled the condom on, never once taking his eyes off of the blissful expression on your face. 
“Ready?” he questioned, his tip lightly pressing at your entrance. You nodded and sucked in a breath, bracing yourself for the stretch, your eyes falling closed in the process. 
When a few seconds went by and nothing happened you opened your eyes to find Calum staring down at you in awe. 
“Cal,” you whined. “what’re you doing?” 
Your words seemed to break him from his trance, he shook his head and muttered an apology to you. 
“Sorry, fuck you’re pretty. You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” 
“Then stop waiti-” your words were cut off by a sharp hiss that couldn’t have been prevented as his length finally pressed into you. 
“Fuck.” Calum groaned his head falling back. You felt too good around him, seriously he was fucked, completely ruined for you. 
You felt the exact same as your silky moans filled the room. You had never been filled this good and you questioned how you had gone so long without this. 
“M-move” you sighed, clenching around him. 
You could hear his breath catch at the feeling and he grunted out a strained, “Need a minute.” 
He held himself in place for a few more seconds until his breaths began to even out once again before pulling nearly all the way out and slamming back in. 
You yelped, pulling your lip between your teeth in hopes to drown the sound. 
He continued slamming into you at an unrelenting pace, taking notice of each time your eyes would roll back when he brushed against your g-spot. He could write a book about how good you looked all fucked for him. 
As his thrusts grew closer together you could feel your release creeping up on you.  
“Cal, need’ta cum.” you stuttered out. 
His hands tightened around your hips, pulling you even closer to him as his head poked at that spot again. 
“Go on baby, let go.” he encouraged, willing himself to hold out a little longer as your walls fluttered around him. 
Once you had came it only took him about three more thrusts before he was painting the condom with his release, groaning your name as his hand searched for yours to intertwine them as he came down from his own high. 
  His body flopped next to yours on the couch, both of you struggling to fit next to each other in such a small space, not that either of you minded the close quarters. 
Your fingers remained laced together as you caught your breath, Calum peppering kisses to your shoulder and mumbling praises into your skin. 
“You’re an angel. God, I just- I love you.” he said, causing your head to snap in his direction. 
He looked like a deer in headlights when you asked for him to repeat himself. 
“I love you?” he obliged.
“Is it a question?” 
“No, I’m just not used to saying it.” he admitted, vulnerability clear in his eyes. 
You wanted to kiss away the worried crease in his forehead but instead pressed your lips to his, pulling apart a fraction of an inch to speak after a few seconds.
“I love you too.” you ensured. 
Calum eyes widened, not expecting you to say it back, at least not so soon. He had so much he wanted to say to you but figured all of it could be summed up by another kiss to your soft lips. So he closed the distance once again, using a bit more force this time in hopes it would convey the strength of his feelings for you.
2K notes · View notes
newronantic · 3 years
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HAIKYUU!! FICS
so this is mostly gonna be for myself to keep track of my favorite fics i’ve read, but hey if anyone else wants to check some of these out then thats great
MHA one is up!!
ill keep updating this as i read more, feel free to send me suggestions!
KageHina
plain as day - emleewrites
In which Hinata has spent the better part of the last twenty years putting his heart and soul into volleyball, hoping to be recognised, to be noticed. And yet he spends all these years also thinking of himself as rather plain, beyond his lack of height and bright hair, and not really noticeable at all.
In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments
Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.
I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments
Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.
Chaotic Neutral - akaraka
Who's this Kageyama person on twitter and is he gay?
1: Anonymous: see title
2: Anonymous: curry king
3: Anonymous >> 1: It's the curry king, obviously. Have you been using his memes this whole time without knowing who he was?
4: Anonymous: 1) Hinata Shouyou's boyfriend 2) See above
jellyfish - mysterytwin
At the beginning of his last year at Karasuno High School, Hinata Shouyou starts a list and calls it THINGS TO DO BEFORE GRADUATION, all with high hopes that he’ll be able to complete it before his time runs out.
TsukkiYama
Try This On For Size - CloudMonsta
A lot changed for Yamaguchi Tadashi over the course of high school. He started trying on dresses, for one.
The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw
"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team.
No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.”
Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.
IwaOi
Terrarium - sausaged
He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).
At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?
Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?
A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.
They Say it Rain Diamonds on Jupiter - exsao
"You're in love with him."
Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.
"Yeah," he says instead.
He's never been good at lying, anyway.
bait and switch - Stylographic_Blue_Rhapsody
Oikawa's university volleyball team knows he's in a long-distance relationship with someone from high school. They imagine a sweet-faced girl that matches his sarcasm with patience. They are so incredibly wrong.
my heart is where it’s always been - foreverautumn
Iwaizumi places his phone down carefully.
Oikawa. Pining after someone. There’s no way.
(Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t care who Oikawa might have feelings for, but within the span of three days, it’s somehow the only thing he can think about.)
KuroKen
Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life - todxrxki
Kuroo Tetsurou runs a private Twitter account where he's constantly tweeting about how desperately in love he is with Kozume Kenma. Little does he know that Kenma sees all the tweets and keeps referencing the account in an attempt to get Kuroo to confess to him. / Or, five times Kuroo didn't notice Kenma hinting about his private Twitter account, and one time he finally did.
the things that get caught in the valves of his heart - ghostpot
Emotional competency is not exactly Kuroo's strong suit. Kenma finds it quite amusing.
Accidentally In Love - todxrxki
Kuroo frowns, but then slowly, the corners of his mouth lift up into a smirk. "Well, if it's so unbelievable, why don't we give it a try?"
Kenma glances up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"
"Let's do the 36 questions to fall in love," Kuroo says, still smirking stupidly. "If we don't fall in love, then you're right, it's bullshit. But if we do somehow..." Kuroo waggles his eyebrows. "Then I win." / Kuroo decides he and Kenma should do the 36 questions to fall in love as a joke, but they both start to realize they might actually be in love already.
the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony
TW: major character death
Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives
even if you’re ahead for a bit, i will catch up - ghostpot
Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.
you’re the brake lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot
Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.
teach me the way home - icespyders
“Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —
because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.”
Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.
in this universe - crossbelladonna
Living with Kuroo is sometimes, just like this. It always feels surreal like he's living half a world and a lot of things rush by too quickly. Kenma feels like he'd watched him come and go in a blink, eyes wide and wordless as the shared space went snug in an instant and far larger in the next.
All this, and a glass of water.
Beginning’s End - todxrxki
Somehow over the course of Kenma's lifetime, he’s never really had an opportunity to miss Kuroo. He’s always been there. Even when they went to different schools, Kuroo would meet him afterwards so they could walk home together, shoulders brushing, Kuroo occasionally taking the opportunity to guide him when his nose was buried in the newest video game. The thought of Kuroo not being there anymore is uncomfortable, to say the least. / Kozume Kenma's third year and the changes the year brings in himself and his relationship with Kuroo Tetsurou.
All I Want for Christmas is You - todxrxki
“Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.”
“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing that out.”
“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?” / In which Kenma recruits his housemate and best friend Kuroo to be his fake date for Christmas.
BokuAka
just to miss the sun - rosevtea
Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.
Operation BokuAka - kazzydolyn
After spending two whole years watching Bokuto and Akaashi pine for one another, the rest of the Fukuroudani Volleyball Club has had enough. When everyone meets up for a reunion dinner, the team decides to play matchmaker and finally get the two of them together. Unfortunately, their plan starts to fall apart when they discover that Akaashi is already dating someone. And apparently so is Bokuto. What a strange coincidence.
bitter - silvercistern
He accepted his classmate's chocolates gracefully, then declared his lack of interest with as much dignity as he could muster. She deserved the courtesy. At least she'd acknowledged that Valentine's Day was all about her, and not about him in the slightest.
Because if any of these girls had taken the time to actually get to know him, they’d quickly realize something even more important than his lack of interest in girls.
And that was that Akaashi hated sweets.
In Another Life - LittleLuxray
TW: major character death
Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.
The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.
120% yes - pissedofsandwich
TOKYO FRANCHISE COMING SOON @OnigiriMiya
in reply to @bokkun_official 
Congratulations! In celebration of your historic engagement, please DM us so we can send you a free membership code with a 25% discount on every fourth purchase!
Kissing Ace - karasunovolleygays
It happens right after training camp.
Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way.
But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.
daisy rings and frivolous things (i am deliriously in love with you) - gabstar
Akaashi Keiji is in love. Bokuto Koutarou is a star. Everyone on Fukurodani has a gambling problem.
SakuAtsu
The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets - isaksara (syailendra)
Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”
(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)
A Liar’s Truth - internetpistol
In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?
768 notes · View notes
haik-choo · 4 years
Text
karasuno boys as boyfriends
a/n: im just basically astral projecting myself into these situations; ALSO if you want more detailed ones, just ask, and you shall receive! (also this is my first post i’ve written on here! but if you want plenty of kpop content i’m @hyucksong where i’ve been writing and I am still active! :))
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[KARASUNO BOYS AS BOYFRIENDS HEADCANNONS]
-tsukishima, yamaguchi, hinata, kageyama, tanaka, nishinoya, sugawara, daichi, and asahi
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tsukishima kei.
the type to look you straight in your eyes when you ask for a hug and say “no, who do you think i am, your boyfriend?”
runs his hands through your hair from the front and then when his hand reaches the back of your head he pulls you into him and kisses you either on the forehead or the lips <3
in order to be in a relationship with him you HAVE to have the same type of humor.
i don’t think he could date someone who doesn’t make fun of people with him
you guys are like best friends who make fun of each other and. make out a little every once in a while
he’ll hold your hand and hug you in public but he will NEVER do anything else, especially not in front of the boys
he thinks the blush that ignites on your kissable cheeks should be for his eyes only
he gave you a keychain that had a cute little strawberry shortcake on it. and it’s your most prized possession 
will shoot a glare at anyone who watches you too closely. like no. don’t get googly eyed over MY girlfriend. 
and you don’t have a problem with that ;) 
yamaguchi tadashi.
he likes to watch you when you’re not looking to pick out the little habits you do
he thinks that knowing someone’s little hardly noticeable habits is one of the most intimate things on mother earth
he knows that you stir the milk in the bowl three times before you pour the cereal in to check for chunks because you accidentally drank spoiled milk when you were younger
NEVER has an issue getting you a gift for any occasion. he ALWAYS knows what you’re looking at and what you want and you lowkey think he can read your mind but in reality he just pays attention <3
you’re either just as shy as him to bring out his more assertive side or more assertive than he is to bring out his more timid side -- both are good
kisses you on the forehead and holds your hand in public -- he loves PDA because he can show you off :’)
yes. he kisses the back of your nape in public. so what. 
YES. HE CLOSES HIS EYES WHEN HE DOES IT AND ACCIDENTALLY INHALES YOUR SCENT AND WHISPERS IN YOUR EAR THAT YOU SMELL GOOD. IDC IF YOU THINK THAT’S CREEPY. IT’S CUTE. YES. HE GIVES YOU THAT LOOK THAT SAYS HE’S CRAZILY IN LOVE WITH YOU. SO WHAT.
kageyama tobio.
he probably fell in love with you because you were just as passionate about something else as he is about volleyball; music, drawing, writing, math, science, reading -- whatever
i see this relationship as being one that’s like...accelerated friends. like,,, you act like him and hinata except you kiss sometimes and he can see you at the end of the wedding aisle
DEFINITELY reads cosmopolitans once you start dating because he wants to be a good boyfriend for you <3
PDA is literally little to NONe,,, not because he doesn’t like it...it’s just because he doesn’t realize that he’s not showing you affection lololol
like in one arm he has his athletic duffel bag and the other he has a volleyball
he doesn’t mean to neglect you he just does AGAGAG
realized he liked you when he thought about you when he was drinking his milk and mindlessly bought you one too
the first time y’all kissed. he literally stared at you so intensely for a SOLID ten minutes debating in his head whether or not he should just go for it or wait or just smash his face into yours and hope your lips connect
he chose to cross his fingers and ended up smashing his forehead and nose into yours 
it was cute tho <3
hinata shoyo.
YALL HAVE DATES WHERE YOU BABYSIT HIS SISTER. WTF SO CUTE
when yall cuddle and you’re the little spoon he likes to put his head on your shoulder/between your neck and watch as you scroll through tiktok or instagram and just mindlessly talk about his day 
the type of boyfriend where neither of you can cook and you both confusedly look at recipes on google like: ????? wtf is the difference between brown sugar and regular sugar
it’s his INSTINCT to hold your hand. no matter what. his hand just...gravitates to yous.
AND HIS LIPS JUST FIND YOUR CHEEK??? like it’s so natural to him to kiss your cheek when he sees you, even in public. it’s so adorable i--
THE TYPE OF GUY TO WIPE OFF FOOD FROM THE CORNER OF YOUR MOUTH AND STILL EAT IT AND SAY “you taste good!~” AND NOT EVEN REALIZE WHAT HE SAID. BUT WHEN YOU DO IT TO HIM HE BLOWS A FUSE
he loves to tickle you. like you’ll be vibing, drinking whatever you drink in the morning and he’ll come up to you all casually and kiss you cheek...and then he’ll pounce 
he holds you close to his chest when he tickles you, partally because he likes feeling your laugh vibrate on his chest, and partially because it’s easier to not get tickled if he’s right behind you
his sister LOVes you and it just. makes him so happy
tanaka ryuunosuke.
you CANNOT remove his hand from your ass. it is permanently glued there. it is attached to you. yes, even in public.
number 1 hypeman! he will always support you, no matter what! you could be in a competition to raise the biggest beetle and he’ll be there rooting you on and staying up late with you as you rear your award-winning beetle
you two lay next to each other on the couch/on his bed and he’ll have his arm around you and you’ll lay your head on his chest as you watch netflix shows
YOU, NISHINOYA, AND TANAKA? UNSTOPPABLE TRIO. POWER TRIPLET. 
i don’t imagine him being shy when he first kisses you; the first time he kissed you, you were literally just. existing and he literally just...couldn’t hold it in...and he just went for it
literally CATAPULTS himself into you and kisses you senseless
yes you and saeko are besties she gives you ALL the tea about young tanaka
the type to take off his shirt more during practice if you’re there watching, and literally BURN red if you mention anything about his muscles
you once traced a vein in his arm and commented on how hot it was and he literally short-circuited 
kiss his biceps. kiss his abs. kiss his cheek. please. it’s all he wants. he’s touch-starved
nishinoya yuu.
SUCH an excited boyfriend
like he seriously gets so hype doing ANYTHING with you pleaSE give this man an award. you’ll be at the amusement park and the line to get into a ride will be three hours and he’ll be like
“I get to spend three hours with you?!! fucking sick! absolutely radical!” 
he’s bold in public, but only because he wants to rub you in his teammates faces, but his ears will be Red
at home, he’s calmer :) he just loves to spend time with you, even if you’re sitting on a bench watching him practice receives for five hours straight in the blazing sun. 
he just treasures your time so much, you treats you like a precious gem -- he will NEVER treat you wrong. deadass has no problem admitting when he’s wrong -- but if he thinks he’s right then he WILL stand his ground
he’s a passionate man, who loves just as passionately.
his favorite time to kiss you is after you’ve taken a sip of a soda because he likes the taste of the syrup and the burn of the carbonation, but most of all because he likes the taste of your lips in combination with all of them
NIPS AT YOUR EAR. DEADASS JUST LOOKS AT YOU BRUSH A PIECE OF HAIR BACK WHEN YOU’RE DOING HOMEWORK AND IS LIKE “free real estate” AND C H O MPS
the day nishinoya told everyone yall were dating, kiyoko stopped you in the hallway and deadass got on her knees and thanked you LITERALLY she was like “i’ll buy you anything. give the word and it’ll be yours.” 
sugawara koushi.
would kiss you on the first date. deadass. he’ll just drop you off at your doorstep and you’re still high on adrenaline, and you’re lowkey hoping he’ll kiss you and you get  little disappointed when he doesn’t and then when you least expect it. bam. his lips on yours
his smell oh god, he literally smells like fresh sugar cookies. it’s like as soon as you get anywhere near him his smell just invades you nose and. you’re powerless. you just wanna hug him
never smells bad. try me, bitch. NEVER.
his hugs are literally god’s gifts. he loves hugging you. he just completely envelopes you with his pretty setter arms and his smell takes up all the space in your head and nothing else exists for that moment, just you two
loves tucking your hair behind your ears or just moving it out of your face; doing homework and your bangs are in the way? not for long because he’ll clip them up for you <3
he’s pretty mischievous and will playfully put his hand next to your head and lean down with such a HOT look in his eyes 
and he’ll say some shit like “i wanna devour you” and then he’ll laugh afterwards and give you a kiss on the forehead and you’re standing there. like -.- o.o -.- o.o
whenever he feels insecure about his position on the team, you’re always there to comfort him and he’ll just lay between your legs and rest his face on your stomach as you comb your fingers through his hair and scroll through tiktok
PDA? yes please. uh huh. mhmm. he doesn’t care who sees his love for you he just wants to love on you baby. kisses you on the lips, no problemo
daichi sawamura.
you and suga are the only ones who can scare him when yall are mad lol
boyfriend where you’ve dated for like a year but it feel like 50 have already passed. in a good way!
this relationship is so ungodly domestic. like from the first day it’s just pure comfort and he’s like your rock and you’re his anchor
you two bicker a lot but it’s lighthearted and you just feel so secure with him that poking fun at him and at yourself is just natural
daichi. gives. god. hugs. he does. it’s fact. 
his arms are just so big and he has so much body warmth and he probably smells like some bullshit cologne like “smoldering woods” and it’s just so. daichi
you two spend the night at each other’s house so often it’s like you already live with each other and people always forget that you don’t lolol
totally sleeps with his shirt off and only with underwear. isn’t awkward about it either;  when he wakes up he puts on sweats but still remains topless (not that you’re complaining)
you two are like. the strict parental couple, when you walk together whether it be down the street or in the hallways, you just look so right for each other it’s. mind blowing
doesn’t mind kissing you a little in public but really thinks that stuff should be for private; so normally he just kisses your temple and always has an arm either around your shoulder or around your waist
WHEN THE TEAM SEES YOU KISS ON THE LIPS THEY GO “EW” EVEN SUGA AND ASAHI AFIEFHEWIF
asahi azumane.
literal fucking teddy bear. god please cuddle him. please kith him. please comb through his hair with your fingers and kiss his nape and kiss the back of his head. please i beg of you.
did NOT ask you out first. he wrote love letter to you and then waiting behind the gym because he thought being near the volleyball gym would give him some luck and them you got in front of him and he was. deer in the headlights
needless to say you asked him out and kissed his cheek. he DIED
even once yall are comfortable in the relationship he still needs reassurance every once in a while because he’s a little insecure, not that you’ll leave him for someone else, but that he’s not good enough
his PDA skill are. subpar. he usually just holds your hand and that’s it, but sometimes kisses the corner of your eye or nose and you just combust
OH RIOGEH TOTALLY DOES BUTTERFLY AND BUNNY KISSES. YES GOD YESSSSS
when yall cuddle he doesn’t like spooning. he likes to be able to see your face and the expressions you make, so doesn’t like being the little or big spoon; yall face each other and just lets your head lay on his arm even tho it’s numb. im: soft
kisses are so sweet, slow, and hesitant. he doesn’t really kiss you often because he has terrible timing but...when he does it’s like the whole world just becomes still in that moment and nothing matters but his hands on your waist and yours in his hair 
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hangovercurse · 4 years
Text
I’d Drop it All for You
Pictures of you and Pete are spread all over the internet, causing a whirlwind of hate to enter your social media.
Request: “Pete content please! anything !!! smut fluff whatever”
Pete x Reader
Warnings: Cursing, depictions of depression and anxiety
A/N: *Insert normal spiel about respecting A.G. and only using her for plot purposes. No harm intended.* Also I wrote most of this after a meeting with my therapist so... enjoy :) (He’s so cute in this gif I wanna kiss his face)
Word Count: 1820
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You weren’t one of those people who loved being the center of attention. You knew that being in the spotlight also meant constantly living under a microscope, and you decided a long time ago that that was not for you.
But you were lucky enough to work as an assistant art director at just 24. You were hoping that The King of Staten Island, your newest project, would help get your name out into the professional world. But that wasn’t the only thing to come out of the film.
It happened unexpectedly, you showed up on set the first day, ready to do whatever the art director required of you. You couldn’t help but be slightly distracted by the lead actor and writer, Pete Davidson. He was so kind and funny, and he wasn’t uptight like everyone else.
After a few hours of filming, he came up to you, introducing himself. He said he “wanted to get to know everyone working on the project,” but you didn’t see him introducing himself to anyone else. You two started talking during breaks. Then he started sitting with you at lunch. Then he was asking for your number.
In a matter of weeks he was asking you out to dinner, taking you to a cozy restaurant that you absolutely adored. He walked you home, his hand grazing yours until you intertwined your fingers.
It was all very romantic, so when Pete asked if he could take you on another, you obviously said yes. Flash forward two weeks and he finally got the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, even though you were both exclusively seeing each other already.
After filming ended 2 months later, you were still working on the film in post, which meant you had an excuse to stay  in Staten Island with Pete. After about 2 weeks in post, you spent more nights in his bed than your hotel’s.
Nearly 6 months later and you were happier than ever. You were splitting your time between your small apartment in the Bronx and Pete’s basement apartment. Pete introduced you to most of his friends, and you introduced him to yours.
But other than your small circles of friends, you kept your relationship fairly quiet. Pete doesn’t have social media and yours is strictly professional, so there are no pictures of you two together. You weren’t hiding each other, you loved each other, you just had no reason to tell tabloids. And you were perfectly happy with that.
Which made it so much worse when various news sites had pictures of you two holding hands. Had they been anyone else you would’ve thought they were cute, walking along the South Beach oceanside at night.
Pete had been in the SNL studio all day when the pictures were released, while you were in his apartment, trying your best to focus on the photoset in front of you. The production team wanted the film to scream “teen romance,” which basically entails subtle pink undertones and a higher saturation. But you couldn’t quite get the coloring right, probably because you weren’t actually focusing on the colors.
You sighed, looking at the time and realizing that Pete won’t be back until sometime after 2am, which was a whole 5 hours away. You let out a huff, pushing away from the desk and making your way to Pete’s closet and searching for one of his hoodies. They always smelled like him (and weed), so it was a comfort to you.
You crashed onto the bed, finding the phone that you had tossed there a few hours earlier. Turning it on you were surprised by the number of notifications you were getting. You knew the photos had surfaced but you weren’t expecting this.
Your Instagram was blowing up with new follows, likes, and comments. It was kind of exciting at first until you started reading some of the comments.
I mean, we knew he would downgrade from Ari, but this is like… really far down.
This girl really thinks she’s special just bc Pete’s dating her. Hun he could do so much better
Who is she?!? Literally no one.
Someone needs to show her how to dress
That hairstyle is not it honey
Pete Davidson is dating YOU??? He could do sooo much better
Ari was prettier sorry not sorry
The entire comment section on your last post, a picture of you on the set of your latest film, was pretty much the same. There were some nice comments, but a lot of mean ones.
And you couldn’t help it, you couldn’t stop looking at them. It felt so cliché, but it was like all of your deepest insecurities about being with Pete were thrown out on the table.
You knew that Pete had a fairly large following, and that a lot of people had really strong feelings about him. You had expected that if and when your relationship went public you would have a lot of people watching you, scrutinizing you. But you didn’t care because Pete was worth it.
Now you weren’t so sure. It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle people talking bad about you, because you definitely could, even if it hurt. You just weren’t expecting the amount of people comparing you to Ariana or saying that Pete could do so much better.
And it only bothered you so much because you felt it too. Your inner demons loved to remind you that Pete had dated Ariana fucking Grande and now he’s dating you. Anyone could see an obvious downgrade.
You turned your phone off and threw it on the opposite side of the bed, trying to think positive thoughts. “I am in control of my own thoughts and emotions. I am catching my negative thoughts and fixing them.” You murmured your therapist’s mantra to yourself, but it was too late. The thoughts had already taken hold of your mind.
Your eyes started to water as you could feel the heavy feeling in your chest set in. You pulled the hood over your head, pulling the straps to hide as much of your face as possible, and pulling your knees to your chest. You laid like that for a while, tears falling as doubts ran through your head. Once you had effectively exhausted your thoughts, you went numb. Your tears had stopped, but you couldn’t move. This wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but it sure wasn’t pleasurable.
There was a sort of buzzing throughout your body, almost like the feeling when your foot falls asleep, but everywhere. It seemed to block out your sound, as you didn’t hear the basement door open. You only knew that Pete was home when he sat beside you on the bed, pulling the hood off your face.
“There’s my beautiful girl.” He smiled at you. You tried your best to fake one back, but you honestly couldn’t find the energy. Pete pulled you so you were sitting up, back pressed against his front. His arms wrapped around your middle as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “What’s goin on?” He murmured against your skin.
“Did you see them?” You asked, your voice quiet and hoarse.
Pete let out a sigh, “Yeah, I saw them.” He paused, his hold on you getting tighter, like he was making sure you couldn’t leave. “I’m sorry baby. I know you didn’t want it to be a whole big thing.”
You turned your head to face him, “It’s not that. I really don’t mind that people know. We weren’t trying to hide anything.”
He smiled, “Yeah, I know I just- it was nice having this to ourselves.”
He wanted to hide you. He’s embarrassed of you.
Your inner dialogue never seemed to shut up.
You turned away from Pete, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes. “Yeah.” You whispered.
“What’s wrong, you’re still upset.” He rocked you in his arms, kissing the top of your head. You shrugged in response, not trusting yourself to talk. “You can talk to me, y’know.”
You nodded, leaning further into Pete’s chest. “People found my Instagram.” You murmured, looking down and tracing the arrow tattoo on his hand.
“Whaddya mean? I thought it was public?” He furrowed his eyebrows.
You sighed, wishing you hadn’t said anything. “Yeah, it is. But after all the articles people started following me and shit.”
“I would ask how that’s a problem but I deleted my Instagram so I can’t really talk.” You could tell he was trying to make you feel better, but you couldn’t seem to get out of your haze.
You shook your head, deciding to drop the matter. “It’s not, I’m just being overdramatic.” You sighed, putting on a fake smile and facing him fully. “Wanna watch a movie?” You asked, trying to change the topic.
He gave you the I-know-you’re-bullshitting-me look, which made you look down. “Something’s bothering you, Y/N. And you’re trying to pretend it doesn’t because you think your feelings aren’t valid, but they are.” He tilted his head, trying to meet your eyes that were still trained on the bedsheets below you.
“Where’d you learn that one?” You chuckled half-heartedly.
“Rehab part 2” he smiled, hand coming to your jaw to tilt your head up. “C’mon, talk to me. I wanna help.”
You huffed, moving towards the opposite side of the bed where your phone laid. You opened it, finding your Instagram, and showing him the comments. His eyebrows furrowed as he scrolled through the comments. When he decided he’d had enough he put your phone down, grabbing your waist and lifting you onto his lap so you were essentially straddling him.
He leaned his forehead against your own, your noses touching. “That’s all bullshit, you know that, right?”
You looked down, biting your lip. “Y/N you’re the most amazing, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, okay? I’m in love with you, not anyone else.” Pete’s eyes were searching yours, trying to figure out what was going on in your head.
“I know.” You sighed, “It’s just hard to be with you and not compare myself to her. And then all these people started to do it too, and they kept saying that you could do so much better and you can. So, I dunno I guess I just kind of spiraled.”
Pete captured your lips in a long, passionate kiss. “Y/N. There is literally no better than you. I can’t do better because you are the best woman I have ever loved. “
You pulled Pete in for another kiss. “Thank you, Pete. I love you.”
“I love you too. If this happens again, I want you to call me. I don’t care what I’m doing, I’d drop it all for you.” You smiled, sitting in the arms of the guy you loved. The thoughts didn’t just magically go away, but for a brief moment in time, you were happy.
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
Text
Filterless
Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)
Warnings: Body Image Insecurities, Low self-esteem, Swearing
Genre:  Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Feeling comfortable in her skin has hardly ever been the case for Y/N who’s been struggling with body image issues all her life. However, they only get worse when she sees the ‘type’ of girls her crush is into.
Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request (hits close to home 😅) I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill it and post it but here it finally is and if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it, I hope you enjoy! ALSO! - Never forget how beautiful and amazing you are. Never compare your beauty to someone else’s. We’re all beautiful people and we all shine so brightly and uniquely. No one deserves to be compared to anyone when we’re all so different yet so incredible. Love you and appreciate you with all my heart, Vy ❤
If I ever need my ego taken down a few notches - it never does, it’s barely even present, to be honest - all I have to do is go on Instagram. To be honest, regardless of how I’m feeling, opening that app is bound to make my mood plummet and come crashing into the ground so hard it drives a hole in it - probably in the form of a broken heart.
Being a content creator myself, I often get asked questions about my absence on that social platform specifically. I mean, the questions are based and rational I guess, considering I’m not a faceless YouTuber and yet my Instagram account is void of any photos. It’s not like I don’t post at all - I do! I post on my story often but it’s more often than not scenery I find pretty or a poster I’ve made for a movie/video game. Bottom line is: I barely ever allow a picture of me to make it online. The most my fans are ever gonna get of me is a selfie which is also a super rare occurrence because of how long it takes me to take and choose one I don’t hate.
Ok, but how am I supposed to find the motivation to post any sort of picture of myself when on my timeline I’m always faced with people worthy of posting pictures of themselves. People with such perfect bodies and beautiful faces. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous or envious of those people - good for them! They know what they’re working with and they’re working it well. I have nothing against them, in fact, I love seeing people proud of their bodies no matter their size, shape or weight. Those are my role-models: people who are proud of themselves, their bodies, their attributes and capabilities and don’t hesitate to show them off. Those are the people I look up to but, deep down inside I know I’ll never be like.
Insecure about my body, having been referred to as ‘chubby’ and ‘squishy’ all my life. Inappreciative of the stuff I do: starting from my job as a graphic designer leading towards my job on YouTube - nothing I do, professionally or otherwise, satisfies me. Nothing I do is enough in my eyes because I feel incapable of ever being able to do enough. I’ve been called lazy and a half-asser a few too many times to be able to brush it off as a meaningless insult. 
With these problems I’ve had with myself and my own perception of who I am and the work I do, I’ve never had the time for romance or romantic relationships. I second-guess the intentions of everyone who ever shows any interest in me because in my mind I’m nothing special and I have nothing to offer - nothing attractive or likable at least. That being said, I haven’t even been one to make heart eyes at others either. I busy myself with my job and some side-gigs, brushing off any relationship questions with the excuse that I’m ‘just too busy to be in a relationship’ which is technically true.
Having spent twenty plus years with that mindset, one can imagine how surprised I was when I found myself catching feelings for someone. And that someone just couldn’t be any other than the biggest YouTube sensation at the moment - Corpse Husband.
I’m close friends with Poki - her and I were roommates at one point too - so her inviting me to play Among Us with them wasn’t so strange. One or two games, I thought, nothing unusual there, just friendly curtesy. I wasn’t expecting to warm up to the group of famous streamers nor did I expect them to welcome me among them so easily, mostly because my channel is so small and practically invisible to the YouTube algorithm. But soon enough, I became a permanent member of the team, making friends with every single one of those YouTubers I practically thought of a celebrities.
This journey of branching out to other content creators has proven itself to be surprisingly pleasant and has packed my book of friendships to the brim. All of that came unexpectedly, along with a wave of new subs and a higher view count. However, as I mentioned, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I came to finally understand what my high school friends were talking about when they were head over heels for a boy - the butterflies in the stomach whenever he speaks your name; the importance of the laugh you share with him, how special and different it is; how cool it is to be impostors with him - ok they never said that, obviously, but it’s what I have as a substitute to the ‘when the two of you make eye-contact’ bullshit since Corpse and I have never seen each other in person. That is, of course, because of him being a faceless YouTuber and me being a self-conscious and insecure girl.
We do talk all the time though - texting, calling, chilling on Discord, you name it. Our conversations range from deeply philosophical to ones that might mislead someone into thinking we’re high. There’s no topic we haven’t touched upon and yet we still manage to find something new to talk about. We have plenty of similarities but we also never seem to run out of differences we slowly come across as we keep getting to know each other better and better. 
And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.
Human nature of wanting to connect with other people, I curse you for what you’ve done to me.
You might think I’m being overdramatic about the whole ordeal and that this is just a normal, natural occurrence many people experience in their life - some even daily. Well, not only am I far from used to it, but it’s also taking a toll of a different kind on me.
It’s like a constant slap to the face. 
That slap turned into a punch when Corpse and I started following each other on Instagram and I started getting daily reminders of how out of my depth I am with this crush on him. In over my head, especially when you look at all those girls whose pics and videos he reposts on his story. Imagine how that makes me feel, what that does to me - puts me back into the ‘Constantly not good enough‘ basket, the one I’ve been fighting to get out of all my life. In the past and in different contexts I could easily say that it was all just my mind hating me intensely but now - now that I know for a fact I’m not good enough and don’t fit Corpse’s criteria - it hurts ten times as much. I’m not one to do shit for someone’s attention or to attract someone’s eyes, but it really hurts my feelings. Often times, it also leads me to doing dumb things and making rash decisions. 
Like the one I made two days ago.
Imagine me cringing and shaking my head at my own stupidity as I admit this: I, in a frenzy, ordered a whole e-girl getup with overnight delivery. 
Wait, hold up, it gets worse. 
I received it yesterday and spent the whole day regretting that decision, but then, in my most insecure hours - which was somewhere around midnight - I equipped the get-up, took a picture and posted it on my Instagram page. First full body pic I’ve ever posted on there. First pic I’ve posted there of any kind. There to stay, not to be gone in twenty four hours. First pic, and it’s not even of me. It’s of who I want to be in order to fit someone’s criteria. And that fucking stings.
As you might imagine, I’ve spent today’s day regretting that decision as well. Recently my mood’s been nothing but regretting rash decisions that have surfaced under the influence of my ridiculous, constantly-present insecurities. And I would’ve probably gotten over it rather quickly had I not received a message from Corpse that read:
“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic“
I didn’t open the message, I peeped at it as it was a notification on my lock screen. It’s still there, an unread notification. It’s been two hours since I received it and I cannot think of a single thing to say in response to that. 
Truth is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of so many things right now.
I’m afraid of becoming that girl in the photo, cause I’m most definitely not her.
I’m afraid of letting Corpse down by admitting I’m not her.
I’m afraid of what my own mind has made me do because it hates me so much and I’m terrified of what it might do in the future.
I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.
You can’t be her forever, you know. Being her won’t make your insecurities go away, it’ll only make them worse. Haven’t you learned that by now?
I sigh, frustrated and irritated with myself as I grab my phone and tap on the notification, finally deciding to face the music and allow my instincts to carry me through the interaction. Improvisation, that’s one of the few things I’m good at. Let’s hope it doesn’t fail me.
I’m just about to type out my response - not sure what it’s gonna say - when I give the message Corpse has sent me a second glance.  I furrow my brows, finding there’s more to it than that peep through the notification let me see.
“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic. You’re personality is so bright and colorful, I could’ve never imagined you were into the darks and blacks“
Because I’m not
I fail to realize until the message has been sent that my thoughts are exactly what I typed out and sent.
And honestly, I’m glad. It feels like I’ve spoken my truth, like I’ve lifted a huge boulder off my chest.
With that rare confidence in mind I go on and delete the picture.
In its spot, I post a picture I just now took - a mirror selfie in my homey get-up consisting of hot pink sweatpants and an oversized blue tee, my hair in a messy bun, my face free of make-up.
I caption it: ‘Oops, had the e-girl filter on for the last one. This is filterless me tho so...Hi 🥴’
A lot better, I’m surprised to hear my inner voice say. I hope I don’t get used to all this kindness on my brain’s part, probably won’t last, but damn if I don’t milk every second of it.
Just then, I receive a new message from non other than Corpse.
“Now that’s the girl I see when I think of you. She’s super cute 😉“
My, oh my, who would’ve guessed Corpse has a game like that - and by that I mean the ability to make me blush so intensely with only a text message.
Now ain’t that better than being someone else, Y/N?
It sure is, it sure is.
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Text
Give You Hell (one-shot)
Synopsis: When you’re in a relationship with someone famous while being famous it can be difficult. But not for the Reader and Harry, yet when her past comes knocking, she’ll make sure to know where she stands.
Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader
Genre: fluff, some minor angst, like microscopic 
Warnings: swearing, reference to past abusive relationship, but nothing explicit.
Word count: 3428
100% inspired by ‘All American Rejects’’ ‘Gives You Hell’
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Dating someone famous while being famous yourself had pros and cons, much like everything in life. The cons mostly came from the outside, not from the inside. It was the opinions of others, thinking what they said mattered, the scrutiny of the press, hoping one of them would mess up, and they could run some bullshit article just so their numbers could go up, without a second thought of how the people involved felt, and it was some jealous fans who didn’t seem to comprehend the people they admired were actual human beings with feelings and thoughts and emotions and autonomy. But other than that, Y/N’s and Harry’s relationship was just like any other. Save for when their emotions bubbled over, millions of people heard them in songs.        They’d met at the iconic yellow-suit-Harry Brit awards. She’d been right next to Hugh Jackman opening the show, a red glittering bodysuit with a black and gold ring-master jacket, a top hat adorning her head as she dominated the stage. If Harry had been sloshed at that point (much like he was later on, but who was Y/N to say, given how most of the night was a blur for her), he would’ve absolutely started drooling at the sight of her, and he was one of the thousands who stood up, hollering and clapping as she and Hugh ended their performance.
       Much to his dismay though, Y/N wasn’t one of the people assigned to sit by his table, instead, she was a couple of rows behind, whispering something into Billie Eilish’s ear, the two erupting into uncontrollable laughter.        He felt like a creep as he tried to catch every possible glimpse of Y/N, her smile making his heart race. She’d been on his radar for a while, had even thought about asking her to collaborate on a song for ‘Fine Line’, but at the end of the day, it was an album of personal discovery (and when one of his producers told him Y/N was halfway across the world in the middle of Norwegian woods for the next half-year working on her own music, he didn’t want to be a bother). But seeing her then, Harry wondered why he hadn’t reached out on his own, especially after at the after-party Lizzo had dragged Y/N to him and introduced the two.        The following day, pictures of them dancing together, drinks in hands and drunken grins on their faces would sweep the web, sparking millions of rumours, but, at that moment, they didn’t care, nor did they care about what was written because as Harry twirled Y/N under his arm, as much as the connection was there, that night they went their separate ways. Even when they were drunk, they understood that about the other person, and wouldn’t accept anything else, but a sober and coherent ‘yes’.        Sometime midday the next day, Harry reached out to Y/N through a DM on Instagram checking in on how she was doing, which then turned into a six-hour FaceTime call.        “What do you mean you’ve never had a hangover?!”        Y/N laughed at Harry’s almost offended expression. “I mean I’ve never had a hangover. I’ve never thrown up while drunk or after being drunk, my head’s never hurt – nothing. I mean I’m tired, but that’s because I’m still on New York time and got to bed at like five AM.”        “You… are something else.”        She wiggled her eyebrows. “Is that something else something good?”        Y/N didn’t know, but when Harry saw her eyes sparkle, his heart skipped a beat, and he immediately knew – she was it. “The best.”        “Well…” she bit her lip. “If I’m the best, would it be too forward of me to ask you out for a coffee?”        What Harry didn’t know was that when she saw him smile as if those were the best news in the world, her heart skipped as well, and she knew he was the one.        “Only if it’s my treat.”        “But I was the one who asked you out.”        “Yes, but you can pay for the second date.”        Holding in her squeals of joy was tough, but she raised her eyebrow, giving Harry a sly smirk. “Already so confident there’ll be a second date?”        Harry scoffed. “And a wedding!”        Seeing Y/N throw back her head as she laughed, made all sorts of butterflies fly through his stomach.        “Okay, Styles. I’ll take your word for it.”        Three months into the relationship, the two were booked to appear on The Graham Norton show together, which was also the first time they’d appear officially as a couple at a work/outing kind of a setting since the rumours started floating, and a picture of Harry kissing Y/N outside of a hotel room had sort of confirmed that.        “So, you two.” Graham pointed between Y/N and Harry with his cards. “Have started to date? Not to say anything Harry, but Y/N… I didn’t think boy-bands were your type.”        That made her lean over in laughter as Harry gave everyone a shocked face, before slumping back and pouting, nudging Y/N with his knee. “That’s not funny.”        “I mean it kind of is.”        “She was twelve when she swore off boy-bands.” Graham nodded, taking a sip of his wine. “Isn’t that what you said last time you were here?”        “Hey, it’s been ten years since I said that!” Y/N laughed. “Cut me some slack. All the people I was crushing on are married anyway… with kids… and could probably be my dads… I have issues, don’t I?”        Everyone exploded into giggles while Harry shook his head, chuckling.        “Love you with all of your issues.” He nudged her shoulder, and she nudged right back, taking a sip of her drink.        “Yeah, give it a couple of months. You’ll regret your words.”        The thing was Y/N was so wrong, and she’d never been happier to be so wrong. Each morning they were together, Harry woke up to her showering him with kisses or vice versa. As private as Harry was, his Instagram stories were now filled with pictures and small videos of them, of Y/N’s face half-covered by a blanket, glasses crooked as she smushed her cheek to his chest and watched a movie, or her eating breakfast while re-watching old Bones and Castle episodes with captions like ‘dunno how she keeps the food down’ and ‘she swears it’s just for research’, while her feed was full of candid Harry photos or her rummaging through his closet and showing everyone his immaculate style, and giving tips how others can recreate it (also she may or may not just use that as a reason to steal his clothes).        Generally, people loved it, and their love for one another. It was refreshing to see them enjoy each other’s company, and not be afraid to do so, especially now, given how it was a couple of days before Y/N ended her tour in New York in Madison Square Garden, to which Harry had specifically flown out for despite being in the middle of filming for ‘The Little Mermaid’. Three AM blinked on the clock, as the two finally drifted off to sleep after five hours of a passionate reunion when her phone dinged, indicating a message had arrived.        “Turn it off,” Harry grumbled into the skin of Y/N’s back. “’S too early.”        She hummed in agreement, furrowing her brows as her palm blindly searched for the offending device, and she squinted her eyes as the light burned her retinas before widening in shock at the message.        Harry felt her body go rigid, and he pressed a kiss to her neck. “Everythin’ alright, lovie?”        “Uh – “ she stuttered, trying to process the words on the screen. “Uh, yeah. Yes, everything’s fine. Just… some last-minute changes for the show. They want something really big for the ending, and some of the propositions are just…”        She could feel a smile stretch across Harry’s mouth. “Extravagant?”        “You could say that, yeah.”        “Sounds like it’s gonna be one hell of a show. Not that the others weren’t.”        Y/N switched the phone off wiping away the message first and then turned to cuddle into Harry’s chest. “It most certainly will.”        For the next two days, she was an anxious ball of mess, as her crew got everything ready, and her and her band rehearsed relentlessly before she asked all of them to gather at the studio to add a song to the setlist.        “It’s gonna be a couple more hours, Hazza,” Y/N murmured into the phone as Harry had called in to check on her. “ ‘M sorry. You don’t have to wait up for me. I know you’re still adjusting to New York time.”        “ ‘S alright,” he slurred, clearly already falling asleep but determined not to. “Can’t sleep without you anyway.”        At those words, Y/N’s heart did that stupid flipping thing it’d been doing ever since Harry entered her life to stay, and a shy grin blossomed on her lips. “You’re exhausted, sweetheart. But I’ll tell you what - if you do go to bed, I’ll be sure to wake you up with a kiss when I get back.”        “You promise?” She could hear the smile on his face.        “Swear it.”        “Alright, lovie. I’ll be waiting to cash in on that kiss.”        “I’ll run to give it to you as soon as I can. G’night.”        “See ya’ in a bit.”        Y/N let out a shudder as she heard the call disconnect. She entered back inside the studio and clapped her hands, drawing the attention of her producers and band members. “Where were we?”
***
       The hour before a show was always nerve-wracking for Y/N. It’s when the adrenaline truly started to rush, when her feet and palms got all tingly, and her ears and cheeks heated up. It was when their warm-up band exploded on stage, and the crowd got pumped up. But the best moment that night by far was right when she was about to run out, Harry had pulled her back by the wrist and kissed the living daylights out of her.        “You’re gonna kill it tonight,” he muttered against her lips, words skimming her mouth and making her smile as bright as the sun. She seemed to do that a lot around him. It’s why he now dedicated Golden to her every time he sang it.        “Thank you. For being here.”        Harry flicked her nose. “Always. Now go. People are waiting.”        When Y/N finally appeared on stage, pretty much glowing as brightly as the stage lights, her fans went wild, and even more so when she jumped, starting off the show. The whole time, her gaze flitted to backstage just to get a glimpse of Harry, and whenever she did, she saw him dancing, singing along, filming her having fun and some clips of himself as well, going absolutely ham to her songs.        As the night was moving towards the end, usually, she’d feel euphoria from giving a great performance, after hearing thousands of people sing her songs in unison, now Y/N felt closer to throwing up and fainting.        “So uh…” She pushed back strands of sweaty hair, hollers of people echoing in her head. “This is a very special show tonight. Umm… this is the first concert my boyfriend’s come t - .” She didn’t even get to finish the sentence before the cheers of the people interrupted her, deafening the girl even with the earplugs.        “But umm… it’s also a special show because two days ago someone reached out to me, and uh… he… well, he was as important of a person once the same way Harry is right now, and he wrote this.”        Y/N went over to where the piano chair was, lifted it and fished out her phone from it, revealing the message that’d been basically haunting her nights and days since receiving it.        “Breaking up with you was the biggest mistake I ever made.” To her own surprise, her voice was steady and sure, unlike her hands which were trembling like leaves in a storm. “I know you look happy and in love, but I know it’s not true. I’ve known you for five years, I know how to see through the mask you put on every day just to make sure others are happy while you yourself suffer an inauthentic life. But you do deserve to be happy. And I’ll be waiting for you if you decide to give us a chance again. I’ll be at your concert in Madison Square.” She looked out into the crowd. “You wrote a song once for me. If you sing it, that’s how I’ll know you feel the same.”        By the time she got to the end, there were no more shouts or screams, but confused murmurs. Y/N let out a shuddering breath, hoping that she could manage to do what she wanted, and everything didn’t fall apart. “The thing is, I’d like for Harry to come on stage, please.”        She could see the fear in his eyes as he jogged to stand next to her, but he disguised it with an overenthusiastic smile as he waved over towards the raging sea of people. He’d seen the message, had seen her reread it more than fifty times by that point, and as sure as he was in their relationship, when someone who held such importance, no matter if good or not, in someone’s life came knocking again, you could never be too sure what would happen. Harry didn’t want to say anything, believing if it was important enough, she’d tell him. Guess that was it.        “So, uh…” Y/N pulled Harry’s arms over her shoulders and grasped onto them, grounding them both. “This is for you.” Y/N looked over into the crowd before glancing over her shoulder, Y/E/C eyes meeting Harry’s wavering green ones. “And you,” she whispered so that only he could hear. “Hope you know I mean everything.”        As the cords started playing, she felt Harry unwarp his arms from where she’d been holding them over her shoulders and a smile erupted on her face.        “I wake up every evening,” Y/N sang, “with a big smile on my face, and it never feels out of place.”        “And you’re still probably workin’,” Harry’s voice joined in, grin as wide as the Cheshire cat’s, as he now had a microphone in hand, the other placing earplugs in his own ears, “at a nine-to-five pace… I wonder how bad that tastes.”        “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell,” the two harmonized, Y/N’s eyes locked onto the masses, imagining the face of her ex-boyfriend who had the audacity to send that message.        “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell.” Harry was looking at the crowd as well, now fully understanding the message and the person behind it, and although he lived by ‘treat people with kindness’, he couldn’t help but gloat at the fact he got to sing with the love of his life on stage, and basically serenade a break-up song to a person who didn’t know how to appreciate what he’d had.        Y/N cocked her head to the side. “Now, where’s your picket fence, love, and where’s that shiny car? It didn’t ever get you far. You’ve never seemed so tense, love. I’ve never seen you fall so hard. Do you know where you are?” It was hard not to smile, knowing where she was and who she was with. Harry threw an arm over Y/N’s shoulders as she sang, giving a mock sad look, while Harry pouted. “And truth be told, I miss you… And truth be told, I’m lying!”        “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well.” Y/N pointed towards where she imagined her ex was standing. “Then she’s the fool, you’re just as well, hope it gives you hell! Hope it gives you hell!” For a split second, the music slowed down, guitar strumming in the air, as Harry pulled Y/N by the palm and towards his chest.        When the next lyrics came out of his mouth, he knew them to be true as he sang them to the man, he’d heard Y/N talk about, to the man who thought everything he’d done to her, every horrible word and deed was justified, to the man who thought breaking someone else down was the only way to bring themselves up. “Now tomorrow you’ll be thinking to yourself, where did it all go wrong, but the list goes on and on.”        “And truth be told, she misses you,” Harry hummed, Y/N letting out a large laugh, holding onto his bicep, as he slightly changed the lyrics. “And truth be told, she’s lying! When you see her face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you walk her way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!  When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well.” Harry sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “Then she’s the fool you’re just as well hope it gives you hell.”        “Now you’ll never see,” Y/N took over the song. “What you’ve done to me.” She placed a hand over her heart. “You can take back your memories, they’re no good to me. And here’s all your lies, you can look me in the eyes, with that sad, sad look that you wear so well.” She dragged her finger down her cheek, giving a pout while Harry mimicked her stance before turning the mic to the audience.        “When you see my face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell,” the crowd sang back with such vigour, Y/N was sure the whole ground was shaking just from their voices, and the clapping and stomping to the drum rhythm would bring the whole world down. “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well, then she’s the fool you’re just as well, hope it gives you hell!”        The two were jumping around the stage like madmen, adrenaline filling their veins. “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” “Hope it gives you hell!” Everyone else repeated.        “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” “Hope it gives you hell!”        “When you sing this song and sing along, well you’ll never tell. Then you’re the fool, I’m just as well, hope it gives you hell!” Y/N grinned once more, placing her hand over her heart, meaning every word – she was just as well. She had amazing friends, a career that’d flourished, and a person who loved her more than words could describe.        “When you hear this song, I hope that it will give you hell!” Harry crooned down the mic, knowing their happiness would, Y/N’s happiness would give him hell. And he enjoyed it, knowing how good her life was.        “You can sing along I hope that it puts you through hell!” Her voice became the only sound as the last word echoed around everyone, her chest heaving up and down from the exertion, from all of the emotions running through her body as well as the overwhelming feeling of not only having Harry watch her perform but to end up performing with him.        When his hands wrapped around her body, it startled her out from the daze, and the popping confetti startled her even more, as the rest of her band joined the two to take their bows, grins on all of their faces while they did so.        “Not the song you thought I’d sing, is it?” Y/N laughed into the mic, Harry’s arms tightening around her waist. “There’s a reason I blocked your number, let alone you from my life. Don’t think I won’t do it again.”        “But I would like to say thank you, to the asshole in question,” Harry said, making Y/N’s forehead scrunched up. “You let go of the best person ever; you had the honour of calling yourself her boyfriend, but instead, you chose to walk away. So, thank you for that. Because now I’ll have that honour and pleasure for the rest of our lives.”        Yeah. It was one hell of a show.
Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):
Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​
Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​
A/N: I love ‘All American Rejects’ and have been listening to ‘Gives You Hell’ non stop. It’s the best break-up song ever, and you won’t convince me otherwise. 
P.S. my tags are always open :)
P.S.S. please don’t repost my work on other platforms without my explicit written permission. reblogs are fine :)
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corpsehusband-simp · 4 years
Text
Insecure
Request: Can you do a roommate fluff where the reader is noticeably just avoiding eating and all that and corpse tries to comfort her and reassure her.
A/N: This is a bit heavier than I have written but I hope you guys like it. Please remember you are beautiful no matter your body type. I am always here if you need to talk and my DMs are always open for you to message me. I love you guys. Also thank you so much for 500+ followers!!!
Warnings: Angst. Body image issues. Cursing. fluff at the end.
✨Master list✨
You looked up from your phone hearing a giggle coming from Corpse. He was sitting on the other end of the couch also on his phone but your legs were stretched over his lap and his free hand gently traced up and down your shin. These were your favorite days, just you and him hanging out. “What are you giggling about bug?” It was a nickname you had given your best friend years ago. Corpse leaned over showing you his phone. It was a pretty girl dancing to one of his songs. Your smile faltered a little but you quickly recover. “They are getting really creative, how does it feel to have reinvented the E-girl catgirls?” Corpse snorted and shook his head as he returned to his original position. “This whole thing is fucking crazy, I genuinely wasn’t expecting any of this to happen.” You let out a hum and looked at his Instagram story. Your stomach turned a little and your heart dropped. All of the girls he posted on his story were skinny and beautiful. Why would he want to be friends with me when there are all of these beautiful people around him? He must look at me and feel embarrassed. You shook your head and stood up, shoving your phone into your pocket. “I’ll be right back.” You walk into the bathroom and lift up your shirt looking at your body in the mirror. Your fingers gently traced your stretch marks. You didn’t want to spend your time comparing yourself to random girls on the internet but you couldn’t help it when your best friends Twitter and Instagram were flooded by them. You put back on your shirt and rub your face before going back out to the living room. “It’s my night to make dinner, what are you in the mood for?” You needed a distraction and cooking was the perfect thing. Corpse chuckled looking up at you. “Peanut every night is your night to cook, remember when you first moved in here I burnt ramen in the microwave.” You threw your head back laughing at the memory. “Yeah, you are banned from the kitchen. Not to mention you couldn’t get the aluminum foil open.” Corpse gasped and threw a pillow at your head. “Rude!” You laugh and threw the pillow back at him before going to the kitchen. Corpse got up as well and leans on the counter as you search through the fridge. “Buuuug what sounds good what do you want to eat?” “Why do I have to pick what do you want?” You sigh and keep your back to Corpse. “I’m not really hungry” you shrug and turn around, finally looking at Corpse. His eyebrows were furred together. He stood up straight, setting his phone down on the counter and crossing his arms. “Y/N.” His voice was calm but it had a stern edge to it. “Why are you doing that?” You bit the inside of your lip and look at him. “Doing what?” You decided to play oblivious but you knew he wasn’t going to buy it, the man knew everything about you and could read you like a book. “Y/N don’t play coy with me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you haven’t been eating. I thought maybe you were on your period or just weren’t feeling well but this-” He motioned his hand in front of you. “This is different, so please tell me what’s going on because I’m worried about you.” You saw the sincerity in his eyes. You hated that he was worried because you knew he was already filled with so much anxiety. You blinked a few times trying to fight back the tears. “It’s nothing Corpse. I’m just not hungry.” Your voice was just above a whisper in fear that if you made it any louder it would fail you and shake. Before Corpse could push the topic any further you close the fridge and leave the kitchen going to your room. “I’m gonna head to bed early. “Y/N wait plea-” You cut him short closing your door locking it. You fell face-first into your bed and let out a sob into your pillow. You hated feeling like this. You laid there for a while crying as you looked at the different girls Corpse was posting. You jumped a little hearing a soft knock at the door. “Hey, peanut...can I come in?” You bit your lip laying there for a moment contemplating if you should pretend to be asleep or not. “I can’t see that you’re active on Instagram so don’t even try and pretend you are asleep.” A small smile forms on your lips. “Brat.” You mumble getting up, as you walk to the door you catch a glimpse of yourself in the full-length mirror your eyes were red and puffy. You sigh and open the door. “Hi” Corpse frowns and reaches up wiping away a stray tear off your cheek. “Y/N we are best friends, you are the most important person in my life, you’ve been there for me through everything. You’ve stuck through all the bullshit and you know that I’ve always, always been right here for you so why are you pushing me away now?” You let out a shaky breath and look at the ground avoiding eye contact with him. “Because it’s stupid.” Corpse cups your cheeks with both his hands and gently makes you look at him. “If it’s making you feel like this then it’s not stupid, so please Y/N tell me what’s going on. Talk it through with me because maybe I can help.” You look up into his eyes and your bottom lip starts to shake. “I’m ugly. I hate myself Corpse. I look at all the girls you post and I want to be beautiful and skinny like them.” Corpse’s jaw dropped and his heart broke at your words. “Y/N…” He paused for a moment taking in a shaky breath and tries to blink away his tears. “You are beautiful. There is no debate about that. Your weight does not define your beauty. But you, my dear, are beautiful on the inside and outside. You outshine every girl I have ever posted on my story. I am honored every day to have you in my life please never forget that.” Corpse let go of your face and pulls you into a tight close hug. You cling to him and nuzzle your face into his shoulder. “I love you Corpse thank you for always being my rock.” he gave you a squeeze and rests his chin on your head. “We keep each other grounded. I don’t know where I would be without you.” He pulls back and pinches your cheek. “Now come on Peanut lets get some food and watch TV.” You smile, looking up at him. I may not be perfect but imperfect to him and that’s all that matters. You think to yourself before nodding. “Okay bug but your driving.” He grabs his keys out of his pocket and takes you hand in his. “Deal now come on.”
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bokunosimpfiction · 3 years
Text
Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt 3
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A/N: Since y’all demanded a plot that’s what you’ll get. Will it be good? No. I’ve never written anything with a plot in my entire life. Ever. Not even when I did Nanowrimo or whatever. I just bullshitted the whole thing. Like I’ll do with this fic. Y’all are going to have to remind me to update because I have the attention span of a goat. I’ll try to update this on Saturdays??? IDK at this point. ALSO, WHY THE FUCK IS THIS SO POPULAR?????????? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY NOTES THIS HAS ON AO3???? 69????SIXITY FUCKING NINE??? I HATE EVERYTHING MY LEGACY WILL BE READER CALLING HEISENBERG DOOFSCHMIRTZ I HATE EVRYTHING DSHFUGSADFJ
Synopsis: You have totally, %100, given up on escaping. Totally. You haven't been gathering supplies for one, final last hurray. Nope. Totally not. All you have to do is persuade Heisenberg of that so you can change your mind at the last minute. Y’all know the trigger warning for this series but if you don’t tw:kidnapping (implied)
Taglist: it’s exclusivly @localdepressedvampire​  so if you want to be on it for just this story or for all my pieces fill out the google doc in my pinned post or dm me and I’ll put you on it. :)
             You’ve made a breakthrough in your long-term plan of escapism. Even with the mini escape attempts that were really about exploring the factory and less about actually trying to get out, you hadn’t made a lot of progress: until now.
             Well, two, really… Okay, maybe 1 ½. Firstly, you found a sawed-off two-barrel shotgun. With ammo. In fact, there was a various amount of ammo around the factory, but no actual gun. Until now. The second discovery, which is nowhere near as useful, was a window. Which was probably 50 or more feet up from the ground. You didn’t get a chance to inspect it that much, considering as soon as you saw it and got a glimpse at the far-off ground, you had to run again from Lycans.
             Which gives you a basic idea of a way to escape. You knew where the ammo was, you knew where the gun was and had a route to the edge of the building, and hopefully could find stairs at the end of the hallway. Now all you had to do was find a time where you could be gone long enough to get a decent head start before, he notices you’re even gone. Even when he was in the workshop, he kept a close eye on you, keeping you in arms-length to the point where it taxed on both of your mental health.
             And even then, in that chair in the small room, you watch him work in the finer details on something the size of your head and torso. You try not to look at the phone in your lap, he doesn’t even know you have it, much less how great the reception is in the building. How did he not know about his old phone that was still working fine? Oh well, he doesn’t need to know you’re looking at memes and reading feel-good wolf-star fanfic on ao3.
             The best idea you had was to leave him while he was asleep, but there were two some issues with that: he clung to you like his life depended on it, your back to his chest and arms around you almost tight enough to keep you awake; it was dark as hell in the hallways of the factory as is, but it would be impossible to navigate safely with the lights; and the Lycans were most active outside at night, which was where you were trying to go. They’ve tried to eat you before as they show no discrimination on food.
             The only way to get a good enough head start would be to leave while he didn’t notice you were gone, and wouldn’t notice for a long, long time. And that when it hit you. The only time he ever left you by yourself was when he had to deal with the other three lords. And while he left you in that basement that you originally woke up in, you had memorized your way out and found that going up five flights of stairs took you to that faithful widow.
             Would you have enough time to explore and look for an actual exit/entrance, or should you play it safe and find a way to go out that window. You wanted to laugh to yourself, you’d never think that going down a 50ft plus drop would be considered safe, but here you were, kidnapped and held hostage by one of the people your late grandmother warned you not to associate with, or even go near. The letter you received directly quoted “the four lords and their mother, Mother Miranda, are not to be approached or associated with at any costs. You’ll know them when you see them, they smell like death and money. See them and run.”
             You can’t help but find that ironic, considering that you did try to run, heeded her warning, and still faced the consequences that were far worse than she had warned you about. You regretted coming here, to this small village, when you first arrived: no friends, and even those you tried to approach held you to her standard and expected them to be just like her. You were far from her kind and optimistic nature (at least that’s what you heard of her; you hadn’t even known of her whereabouts until she was dead).
             Even the duke, who had helped smuggle you into the village, didn’t seem fond of you. It was a shame, you tried so hard to impress him. But he saw you to a point where you could easily reach her old cottage without having too many issues, turned his cart around, and left without a good-bye. It bothered you to no end that your only companion for about a year or so was an elderly outside cat and the creaking noises the walls made at night.
             And then the cat died and not even a week later you got kidnapped. You never considered yourself lucky, but damn if that wasn’t the worst streak of luck you’ve had in a long time.
             You pretend to turn a page in your book and scroll through your Instagram feed, seeing friends having fun at the beach, or studying at the library, or your old best friend taking selfies in provocative clothing to your ex-boyfriend. Did she forget he cheated on you? She wasn’t always the smartest, but she brought that heartbreak upon herself. You see a photo of your mom, she had posted a picture of a black and white photo of her with her mom, you’re guessing, you have no idea who that old woman is.
             This is the last photo I had with my mom before she died. We lost contact after I moved out. I wish we parted on better terms, Nana.
             She’s in a prairie dress, holding an ancient-looking key in one hand, and the other wrapped around her mom, a middle-aged woman with long hair in two braids and a face that had too many stress wrinkles. You guess your mom was as bad as you were in college. The background looks dreary. You would have guessed it to be the quality of the photo if you hadn’t recognized the house behind them as the house you lived in used to live in.
             The loops on the handle of the key look familiar. You spread your fingers apart to zoom in and see the blurry engravings on the side. It was the payment you gave to sneak into the village. You thought it was a worthless family heirloom at most and found it strange that he had even found interest in the key, or even valued it deeper than money in general. Maybe this photo or other photos of you and your family would help out.
             Why is that key suddenly piquing your interest? Were you that bored, as to sit there and think about a key that was at least twice your age? A key that you didn’t even have. You needed a hobby besides escapism and rejecting your captor’s sexual advances. You look up at him again, only to find him leaning against the desk, hat off and sunglass placed on his forehead, his gaze on you. It wasn’t his normal piercing one, that studied you and calculated your every move, but soft and lazy. His current gaze was dreamy; he was daydreaming about you. You found that equally undaring s it was unnerving.
             “Karl.”
             “Yes, Sweetiepea?” Honestly, what the fuck.
             “Firstly, why are you staring at me like that? Secondly, that is the most disgusting way to use that pet name. I need to take a shower after you called me that.”
             He chuckles light-heartedly. Even his softer more genuine, happy chuckles are booming and loud. “Okay… Sugarplum!” And he busts out laughing.
             Clearly dodging the first question and focusing on the second. You can’t believe you gave him ammo for his annoying-you-gun. And you thought you’d grown immune to most of his… less-savory traits. Were you growing used to him? Next thing you know you’re going to like him and develop Stockholm syndrome!
             “You’re a shit head, hobo magneto…” You turn your head away and let your hair cover half your face so he can’t see you smile. You’ll miss him when you escape and get the duke to smuggle you back to your home in Bucharest. But only a little. Just because calling Heisenberg these names are funny.
             “Why don’t you call me by my name, I know you know it.”
             “You sure about that?” You quip back.
             “You’ve lived with me for at least two months now!”
             “Hm…. I think I know your name! It’s uh…” You are totally faking not knowing his name. “It’s… Heidi Carlson? Yeah, that sounds about right!”
             “It’s Karl Heisenberg!”
             “Quit being so silly, Heidi! Maybe it’s nap-time!” This was a little too fun.
             He looks back at his project for a moment and genuinely considers it. “I know you’re being antagonistic but you’re probably right.” And with that, he walks towards you and goes to scoop you up. You have to shut your book quickly in order for him not to notice the phone in between its pages before you let him pick you up.
             He immediately notices that. “Are… Are you sick?”
             “No! Of course not!” Because you genuinely aren’t sick, and he’s already up in your business as-is, you don’t need him dotting on you because he thinks you’re sick or something. You’ll go fucking crazy.
             “You’ve put in zero effort into anything remotely physical since your last little failed escape attempt.” He gave it a little bit of thought. “You’ve given up, haven’t you, and you’re just depressed about it aren’t you?”
             You want to say no, you really do, but if Heisenberg thinks you’ve given up on escaping, perhaps it’ll give you enough space to plan the big one. The reverse heist so to speak. “No- I… okay maybe I have but I still don’t like you.
             He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good girl. Now let’s get us that well-deserved nap.”
             You plug your nose and turn away as a joke. “You’ve gotta take a bath first, you smell like oil and sweat.” You don’t fight it, because you have to play the part, but you still have to act a little bit like yourself.
             “Okay, fine doll, but don’t think you’ve escaped my barrage of affection, because as soon as I get out of the shower-“
             You bonk him. And he looks at you so confused before he smiles and leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours. You try to hold the bile back in your mouth and lean forward and peck his lips before leaning back. You failed at trying to not visibly gag.
             “Ew… I can’t believe I just kissed you.”
             “Well, I guess someone caught feelings… Didn’t they?”
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bruhstories · 4 years
Text
Baby, I’ve Already got Your Heart
Summary: An accidental meeting between Armin and Y/N leads to an unhealthy obsession. Pairing: Armin Arlert x Fem!Reader (modern AU) Warnings: stalking, language, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), oral sex (female receiving), switch!Reader, switch!Armin, rope is involved. Word Count: 2.5 k
A/N: This fic is heavily inspired by this song. It is surprisingly wholesome, considering the tags xD
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Armin Arlert. The purest man in the world. You accidentally met him one cold, rainy day when he entered your coffee shop for shelter and warmth. He naively talked to you, grateful for how nice you were with him, grateful for the cappuccino on the house, grateful for the towel you offered him to dry himself off. Little did Armin know, a fixation sprouted in your mind and heart, developing into the unhealthiest obsession. He was just so cute — and you just had to have him. It helped to know that you were both going to the same university, and after that, you knew everything about him: his Facebook, Instagram, email address, hell, you even knew his real address. To be fair, it was a piece of cake, the boy was absolutely clueless and whenever he 'accidentally' met you, he thought it was by pure chance. The next and most obvious step was to befriend people in his social circle, one Jean Kirstein, one Sasha Braus and one Connie Springer. Naturally, you did your homework, and you knew his best friends were Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman, but they weren't easy targets. Besides, it would jeopardise your entire plan, as you found Armin was considered a genius. An oblivious genius. He didn't know it yet, but you loved him and he loved you too, right?
A text from Sasha, months after you first met the angelic man, set your plan in motion. A casual gaming night at Armin's place, and you were invited. How perfect. Poor glutton Sasha had no fucking clue how much you were using her, how you told her you want to meet a cute guy, someone nice and caring, someone smart and attentive. The girl put two and two together and decided she just had to introduce you to one of her friends, especially that he was also interested in meeting a girl like you. Unbelievable — you acted surprised, met up with Sasha and left for Armin's little gaming night. You wouldn't let this opportunity go to waste. Starting from tonight, he'd be yours. Forever.
"Armiiiiiiiiin, I brought a plus one!" Sasha barged into his house. "This is my friend, Y/N. Y/N, Armin! Oh shit, pretzels!" The brown-haired woman left the two of you in the hallway and the blond flashed you a smile.
"I feel like I've seen you before." He mused as he closed the door behind you.
"If you ever drink coffee at Rose's you might've seen me there." You smiled and removed your leather jacket, revealing a Pearl Jam t-shirt.
"No way you listen to them!" Armin blurted.
"Are you kidding me? They're my favourite!" You lied through your teeth with a sickly-sweet smile.
"Mine too! Oh, I know, you're the girl who gave me a free cappuccino months ago!"
"I remember! You were drenched in rainwater." You laughed as the two of you entered the living room. "I had to mop up the puddles you left behind."
"I'm so sorry about that..." He blushed. Your heart fluttered and you couldn't wait to get your hands on him, but for the time being, you needed to behave.
"No worries, I just hope you didn't catch a cold." You assured Armin and sympathetically placed a hand on his shoulder. There he goes, blushing again. It couldn't be... was he a virgin? Fuck. This was better than you could've imagined.
"Who's this?"
"Oh, Mikasa, Eren, this is Y/N. She's friends with Sasha."
"Nice to meet you!" Eren shook your hand. "Oh, God, you listen to Pearl Jam, too? You nerds are going to get along just fine." He joked.
The night went great, and you actually had fun with Armin and his friends, despite not intending to mingle with them too much. People started leaving around 2 am, but Eren and Mikasa stayed longer. Too fucking long — and things were boring now anyway. You and Armin kept talking about video games and books, Mikasa fell asleep on Eren who was playing fucking Farmville on his phone. They had to leave as soon as possible.
"Hey, Y/N, we can take you home." Eren suggested and you froze. Shit.
"Didn't you say you're almost out of gas?" Armin questioned his friend.
"Ah, fuck, you're right. I still don't know how that happened — I fuelled the tank yesterday!" The brunette scoffed. "Guess you're on your own, Y/N."
"It's alright, I'll take an uber." You politely smiled.
"Alright, we'll wait for you."
Oh, for fuck's sake. Truth be told, you appreciated how nice and caring Armin's friends were, but you had a different goal to accomplish.
"You really don't have to, plus I have to use the bathroom." You excused yourself. "Um, where is the bathroom exactly?"
"Upstairs, first door on the right." Armin told you while gathering plates and cups from the table. You nodded and climbed up the stairs. Your hand hovered over the bathroom doorknob for a good minute, eyes drifting to the door next to it. Armin's bedroom, by the looks of it. Surely, you could take a look, right? Fuck it. You opened the second door and at first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. LED and fairy lights encircled a corner of his room and, curiously, you walked closer to see what that was, because it didn't look like a desk. Your Y/E/C widened when you saw tens of framed photographs of yourself on the square table, objects you thought you lost and — Jesus, was that your bra? A rush of anxiety hit you, but before you could do anything, a blow to your head blurred your vision.
•°☆°•☆•°☆°•
Dark lashes fluttered as you opened your eyes. The sudden realisation that you were naked and restrained to a bed made you jolt. What just happened?
"Fucking finally, I thought you'd never wake up." Armin greeted you, but his voice was different, deeper and darker.
"Ar-ugh, Armin?" You groaned at the stinging sensation at the back of your head.
"You know, I was relieved you didn't leave with Sasha, otherwise you would've slipped between my fingers again."
Again?
"Ugh, and Eren and his stupid idea. 'We'll take you home.'" He mocked his best friend with a high pitch. "I've been dreaming for this moment since I walked into that shitty coffee shop."
You were at a loss for words. This was not the Armin you fantasised about, not the Armin you wanted. He was much more and much worse. And. So. Much. Better.
Alright then, you'd put up a show for him.
"P-please, Armin, please untie m-me! I'll be good, I p-promise!" You stuttered and whimpered, trying your best to sound genuine.
"Why, so you can run away?" The blond scoffed. So, he didn't know you stalked him. What a twist.
"I won't r-run, I swear!"
"Bullshit." Armin bent over your body, hands around your neck. You gasped and pretended to be startled by his touch, but in reality, your core was already burning with lust. You knew you couldn't keep up with this charade. "No, Y/N, I won't untie you. But we'll have so much fun." He sneered.
"You promise?"
"Yes. Wait—"
Your laughter filled the bedroom, genuine laughter that baffled Armin. Was this some sort of reverse psychology trick?
"Oh, Armin, even when you reveal your true colours, you're still oblivious to the reality of what's in front of you."
"Then enlighten me, what am I so oblivious to?" He folded his arms across his chest and waited.
"The fact that this was my fucking plan, too." You stretched as much as your restraints allowed you to and licked your lips. "I guess we both stalked each other without even knowing. How ridiculous."
"I think I would've known if you stalked me, Y/N."
"Really? Let me prove it, then. Your favourite food's Carbonara pasta, your favourite drink is peach and lychee iced tea, favourite movie is Interstellar, you lived on Sheena street until you were 12–"
"That's common knowledge, Sasha could've told you any of that." Armin blurted, growing impatient.
"You watch BDSM and asphyxiation porn between 10 pm and 11 pm every Tuesday, you're a virgin, you own a fleshlight–"
"Fuck, alright!" He threw his hands in the air, defeated. "So, what next?"
"You untie me and you tear me apart, Armin, that's what's next."
The blond hesitated before removing the cuffs on your ankles, still unsure about the ropes around your wrists. Clearly, you weren't making things up, but what were the chances of both of you stalking each other? For a brief moment, Armin felt guilty for hitting you and practically holding you captive, and you could see that on his face, but obsession and desire soon took over, and he reverted back to his darker self. His soft hands moved from your ankles to your knees, up your thighs and stomach, stopping above your chest, deciding it's best if you're not fully free. Armin licked his lips and climbed on top of you, unbuttoning his flannel shirt. You thought was surprisingly strong for such a thin man, but when the unbuttoned shirt revealed his chiselled abdomen, it made sense why he was strong.
"The wrists, Armin." You insisted but the blond clicked his tongue.
"I like you better when you're helpless." He pressed his lips onto yours in a hot kiss. A great kiss, you thought, your tongues wrestling for supremacy.
"Please, I want to touch you! I need to..." You trailed off, intoxicated by his smell, notes of saffron and cardamom. His hands roamed your shoulders, tickling your axilla and groping your breasts. "Please let me touch you, Armin!" You begged again, but he didn't say a word, his hot breath fanning over your oversensitive nipples, goosebumps all over your skin. His pink tongue poked out of his mouth and you watched him painstakingly slowly lick one of your nipples. It literally pained you to be unable to touch him, pull him closer to you. Alas, you had no choice, and despite yearning to be in control, it aroused you to have him control you.
"You smell so sweet." He abruptly stopped. "I bet you taste sweet, too."
"Armin..." His words made you brace yourself. While you weren't a virgin, you've never had anyone eat you out. The blond was already in between your legs, one hand resting under your thigh, the other gently touching your slick folds. Armin was so careful, like you were made of glass, and the ticklish sensation didn't help you at all. You wanted him to ram his cock inside of you and rearrange your guts, but he wanted to take his sweet time. The teasing only made you dizzy with pleasure, and you bucked your hips, trying to get him to move faster.
"You really need to learn to be patient, Y/N." Armin purred, pressing gentle kisses on your thighs. He lazily dragged his tongue across your slit, electricity shooting through your body. God, how you wanted to rip those ropes apart. Two fingers entered you and the blond gingerly licked your clit.  
"Fuck– so... so good ah–" You couldn't form a sentence even if your life counted on it. Gradually, you could feel your orgasm building up and Armin sensed it, picking up the pace. His fingers thrusted harder and you arched your back, the intensity too much for you. "Armin, please! I wanna come with your cock in me!" The begging didn't stop him, he was determined to make you finish then and there. And he did — within seconds you melted under his touch, legs trembling with pleasure. Armin pulled back, his mouth messy with saliva mixed with your juices.
"You come when I want you to come." His voice was low, almost like a growl. He unbuttoned his jeans, and you watched him like a hawk, waiting to see just how big his was, and you were not disappointed.
"Please please please let me suck it, please!" You begged him, eager to taste him. He smirked and kissed you, all the while rubbing his cock.
"You want this?" Armin quirked a brow at you. The little shit, jacking off in front of you and you couldn't even do anything about it.
"Armin..."
"Say it. Say you want it."
"Armin!"
"Say it, Y/N." He groaned, precum leaking from his member. Fuck.
"I... I want it..." You eventually gave up.
"Good girl." The blond climbed back on top of you. He raised your hips and you placed your legs on his shoulder, his first thrust slow and deep. Armin couldn't help the moan escaping his lips — this was so much better than that shitty fleshlight and countless porn videos. You couldn't deny the fact that it hurt, despite your soaking cunt, but you quickly adjusted to his size. As Armin pounded you, the bed underneath the two of you started moving and screeching, and the ropes tied to the metal bedframe loosened and you felt your arms fall onto the pillows. In his frenzy, the blond didn't notice, so you took this opportunity to lower your legs and wrap them around his waist, one hand grabbing his soft locks, the other wrapping around his neck. You used his weight against him and turned him over. You were in control.
Armin was taken aback by this, but the feeling of your fingers squeezing his throat only turned him on more. You bounced up and down, throwing your head back and groaning. He gripped your hips tightly, thrusting his own hips against yours.
"F-fuck me harder, Y/N!" He begged and you sped up. You felt like a queen — no, a goddess — when he asked you to fuck him, the feeling of him inside of you so addictive. He was your drug, and your rehab, your poison, and your antidote. And you were his and his only. His cock was twitching in your cunt and knew he was close but you didn't want to risk it. Swiftly, you got off of him and wrapped your lips around his dick, bobbing your head up and down. It didn't take long for him to finish, hot liquid shooting down your throat with one final grunt. You swallowed it all and threw yourself next to him. It was breaking dawn already, but you weren't tired. Physically, yes, both of you were exhausted, but mentally it felt like you discovered a hidden gem.
"What the fuck did we just do?" Armin calmly caressed your hair as you nuzzled his neck.
"Are we talking about the obsessively stalking each other part or the part where you hit me in the head? Or the fucking?"
"The everything." He explained. "This is wrong."
"Did it feel wrong?" You asked him, your fingers idly tracing circles over his chest.
"Well, no..."
"Then it's not wrong." You shrugged. "Am... am I yours?"
"Yes." The blond instantly replied without a trace of hesitation in his voice. "Am I?"
"You've been mine the moment you set foot in that shitty coffee shop." You laughed.
"And what are we going to tell the others?"
"That we ended up talking all night and I stayed over?"
"Sounds like a plan." Armin kissed your forehead.
"By the way, I really don't like Pearl Jam." You admitted.
He laughed and it filled your heart with warmth. You have no idea why you and Armin were like that, or how things would be from now on, but you had a good feeling about it. Things were okay. You two were okay.
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we-are-inevitable · 3 years
Text
OKAY BIG AU RANT BUT I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT THIS (even though i posted all of this in the discord last night) AND UH:
modern au where most the newsies are straight and in a frat and jack is the frat president
very stereotypical frat bro, wears his letters everyday (whether it's a t-shirt of a cap or a pin on his bag), throws a whole bunch of parties and is really respected and stuff
he gets around, and has been with a bunch of girls throughout college- nothing really serious, but whatever.
everything is going great, until he meets David Jacobs at a party the frat is throwing.
and obviously jack has seen him around campus before (they're in their fourth year of college by now), and they had a few labs together back in like. freshman year, but they've never *talked*
and now, here's david, at a party with Katherine, and jack decides to talk to him.
they actually hit it off pretty well, but then jack mentions something about david taking Katherine home and David laughs and says, "Yeah, she's gonna help me weed out my grindr matches."
cue jack being like "???" because OH! jacobs is gay. huh. okay
and jack obviously makes a big show of it ("oh, sick! being gay is okay, bro, y'know, love is love and shit like that") and it's so obvious that he's out of his element but he doesn't wanna be like. homophobic or anything
and they kind of talk for a bit longer before jack drifts off to another group of people, and he doesn't think much of the interaction- at least, not until he runs into david at another party on campus the next weekend. this time, they're alone; jack is only there bc one of his buds in another frat told him to come, and david has lost Katherine in the crowd, so jack and david talk in the kitchen and get to know each other a bit more. again, everything is pretty New and they kind of friends now but they're talking and that's fine.
later on that night, jack sees david making out with some guy on the staircase, and to get his mind off of it, jack makes out with a girl in the kitchen.
over the next few weeks, david and jack run into each other a lot- enough times for them to exchange snapchats, and follow each other on Instagram. and they talk more on social media; jack invites david to some parties and david always comes, and they always end up talking- for longer and longer each time, like ACTUAL conversations about the past and their future goals and stuff
about three months after their initial meeting, though (after they've become good friends, who talk/snap everyday and hang out at least once a week), they're at a party, and jack gets pretty drunk, and he sees david making out with some guy on the couch. and jack doesn't know why, but he feels bad. angry. kind of upset. he approaches and tells david he needs to talk to him, and David says no ("uh, i'm kind of in the middle of something?")
and jack tries getting him to move and the other guy- the one David is making out with- starts getting in jack's face and calling him names, so jack... decks him.
he decks him, and he's immediately feeling guilty and bad and the commotion has stopped all around him and everyone is staring and david looks so confused and pissed off
and all jack can do is say "i'm so sorry" and run off
it's not until he's home that he realizes that, the reason he punched that guy in the face, was because he didn't like the idea of him having his hands on david.
because jack wants to be the one with his hands on david.
as soon as that realization hits him, though, jack basically has a meltdown. he's frustrated and crying and kind of throwing shit around but not really because, no. he can't be gay. right? he can't be. he literally has like 3 gay friends and he doesn't know anything about being gay and he's never been into a guy before but, fuck, he's into david.
naturally, though, jack avoids david for as long as he can. he avoids him like the plague
until one night, about six days later, when jack is drunk again (not from a party; more like self pity) and around two am one night, he walks to David's dorm room and knocks really loudly. and it takes a minute, but David answers, and as soon as the door opens, jack starts talking.
"Davey! Hi!"
"...Jack, what are you--"
"Listen, I'm very drunk. Very drunk. and I get it, ya probably don't wanna see me ever again, but I need to talk to ya, because- cause I ain't talked to ya in days, and I miss you, and I'm sorry."
"Jack, it's late, and--"
"Y'know, no one has been talkin' to me since the party. None'a my friends, no one from class... I fucked up, and I'm sorry, and I don't have an excuse, but I just... Do you know what's goin' on right now? 'Cause I sure as hell don't."
"What do you mean?"
"Have you been flirtin' with me?"
"I- I'm sorry, what--"
"'Cause I can't tell if you've been flirting with me or not, and I can't tell if i like it or not, but if you're flirtin' with me, then I've been likin' it, and thats fucking terrifying. Seein' you with that guy... I- I know we ain't a thing or anything, but it fuckin' sucked, and I don't even know why! Okay? Because I think I like you, but I've never been into a dude, and you're a dude and that's- that's fuckin' scary, man. But it'll be fine, and I'll deal with it, and I'm sorry. Night, davey."
and all david can do it watch jack stumble back down the hallway, and pray that jack remembers this in the morning.
and obviously jack remembers, because around noon the next day- a sunday- david gets a message from jack that says, 'we need to talk.'
so, david meets jack at one of the benches in front of the library, and jack looks so... broken, and defeated, and hungover as fuck.
"...You remember last night, huh?"
"Unfortunately, yeah. Look, Dave, I... I'm sorry. All of that was- was a lot, and you shouldn't have had to deal with my bullshit, and--"
"Did you mean it?"
"...Yeah. Yeah, I did."
and they're silent for a long time, until david rubs his arm and says
"For the record, I don't even know the name of the guy you punched."
"You two ain't--?"
"No, we aren't together. I... I've sort of had my eye on someone else."
and then david slowly takes jack's hand, and he san feel how tense and how shaky jack is, and he can see how scared he is, but then jack squeezes david's hand, and things start looking up. obviously they still have to deal with the fallout (and david is still very ,, Not Happy about jack punching that guy), but for the most part, they take things slow and figure it out as they go.
when jack comes out to the rest of the guys, he's really nervous and he does it in one of their weekly frat meetings, and of course there are a few of the guys who try to start shit, but the majority of the frat (other newsies included) are fine with it and are proud of jack.
i imagine all if this happening around,, December, so then once second semester hits, jack is less focused on partying and more focused on developing his relationship with david and working on accepting himself for who he is.
also HUGE shout out to the discord server for dealing with me spamming the chat with these paragraphs last night, namely @tarantulas4davey , @starz-in-our-eyes , and @santagae !!!!!
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