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youngveinsworld · 5 months

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the young veins interview at the beat kitchen in chicago, 10 april 2010

Ryan, Andy and Nick M of the Young Veins interviewed by Natalie Kuchik for the Estrella Online blog, 10 April 2010:

Can you please state your name and what you do in the band? Ryan: My name is Ryan Ross and I am the James Dean of the group. Andy: I am Andy Soukal and I play the thumping bass. Slapping the bass. Nick: My name is Nick Murray and I play the drums.

The first tour as The Young Veins, how has it been going and what’s the crowd reaction been like? Ryan: Seems like it is getting better and better. Nick: The tour seems to be picking up steam. Ryan: More and more people are coming I feel like than the first shows, so that’s really nice. Andy: We have such a diverse line-up. We have a hip-hop band, a crazy Freddie Mercury style band and then a throw back band and the crowd has been really receptive to all of it.

How did you guys get on this tour with Foxy Shazam? Ryan: We are managed by the same people. It was kind of tough to get on a tour when you don’t have any music out or any records, so I think they did us a favor. Or maybe we are doing them a favor.

What is it like going back to more smaller intimate venues? Ryan: It is more interesting every night, you never know what you are going to walk into. Some of these stages are, I question the craftsmanship in a lot of these clubs because I can’t figure out what they were thinking but it makes it a lot of fun. Being so close to the crowd again, I forgot how that was and it makes the show have more energy I think.

Do these venue sizes make you guys more hands on? Do you go out and sign merch afterwords? Ryan: Yeah, pretty much every night. If you need to come see me, I am petty much around. It has been really nice to actually be able to talk to the kids it has been awhile since that has been possible. Nick: Especially, since we don’t have any music out or released we are building a really close relationship with what fan-base we do have is really important. Being as close as possible, building friendships and meeting people around the country is good.

What kind of comments are you guys getting from fans? Andy: It ranges all over the place. Ryan: Yeah, where do we begin. Well, I guess about the music it has been cool to have kids say, “I wasn’t sure if I was going to like this or not”, “I’ve only heard two songs but I’m really excited about the album now.” Then sometimes they ask if they can marry me. Nick: The best feeling in the world is to have people that did not come for our band and like our band and tell us that after the show. Especially, since no one has any pretense of what to expect. If they did like it, that is a really good feeling, it is the best feeling in the world. Ryan: It really feels like we are up there trying to win people over, it is challenging.

When this tour ends, what are your plans after? Ryan: More touring, we are going to do Bonnaroo. Then we are trying to route a tour around that so we will be touring in June and then the album comes out June 8th.

The first single is “Change” why did you go with that one? Nick: Seemed logical. Ryan: Yeah, I don’t know. I feel like that album is all over the place and so many songs sound different. I can’t say it represents the album best but it is one of the more upbeat heavier songs. I think live it is a lot of fun to do. Andy: We also did a lot of market research.

Did you really? Because people do that. Ryan: We polled people at the movies.

On your upcoming album Take a Vacation! all the songs are three minutes or less, was that planned or did it just happen? Ryan: No, I don’t know. I guess something switched in Jon and my songwriting and I guess we just trimmed the fat and cut out parts we didn’t need. It is going to kind of make it hard to do a headlining tour. A lot of our favorite records are really short. I mean, there are so many early Elvis songs that are under two minutes long it is really crazy. It wasn’t a conscious thing it is just the style of music we write is shorter, I don’t know for what reason.

The album comes out June 8th, are you planning on streaming it online for free before it comes out, or any other promotions? Ryan: We are sort of putting together some sort of marketing plan but that is not really my strong point, so the label is always coming up with stuff like that. We are doing something pretty cool where if you buy the vinyl you’ll get the CD for free. We are doing these really neat pre-order packages where we are doing these view master things from when you were a kid. We are doing a box set thing where you get one of those with pictures of the band and we did a couple of photo shoots for them. Stuff that is fun for us to do.

Did your label come up with those ideas or was it your guys? Ryan: That was ours. Nick: We really liked the idea of having a view master. Ryan: We were talking about it months ago. Nick: We just didn’t think it was a possibility. Ryan: The label has been really great about letting us do these crazy things already.

What about the vacation photo contest, was that your idea? Ryan: That was their idea, which I really liked because I have been meeting the kids every night and they are really excited about it. There is really nothing we have to do, it is just a great way to have people come for free.

When you (Ryan) were in Panic! at the Disco you wrote a lot of the songs, would you ever do one of those songs live again? Ryan: I don’t know, I sang a couple of the songs so I guess those would be the only ones I would do. I haven’t really thought about it to be honest with you. Andy: It is a different style so it kind of clashes a little bit. I am not super familiar with everything but if there are a couple of songs similar to our style sure it would be considered but otherwise, it would just clash with what we are doing.

I know your sound is so different, when did you feel the shift from Panic! at the Disco to The Young Veins sound? Ryan: The stuff that I was writing, like half this album (Take a Vacation!) with Jon would have been for the Panic! record anyway. It wasn’t a shift really except for when we quit, I guess it allowed us to do even more than we wanted. Maybe half this stuff we actually already knew [that] there would be no chance it would be for Panic! so we went wild with it. It wasn’t a conscious shift ever in our songwriting, it just kept evolving.

When you parted ways did you know your former band members would keep using the Panic! At the Disco name? Ryan: No, I didn’t think that they would keep the name. It was a little bit shocking when I heard about them doing these tours and stuff without us. I figured doing your own thing meant doing your own thing.

What is a song you never get sick of hearing? Andy: “Wounded” by The Cookies. No one is going to know what that is so you don’t have to write that down, but I am going to throw that out there. Ryan: Reason why? Andy: Reason why, well it’s an old song and it’s just really unique and clever. The vocal melody are just so challenging, and that stuff in today’s music is not accessible at all. You don’t find stuff like that. Ryan: You got one Nick? Nick: I just thought of one, umm… Ryan: The one that I keep listening to recently is the song “The Windmills of Your Mind”, the Dusty Springfield version. I think we might cover that song in the future but it is constantly on repeat for me. Nick: It is kind of an obvious one but “Waterloo Sunset” is still one of my favorite songs of all time which is by The Kinks. I’ve never gotten sick of listening to that song. Ryan: Yeah, that’s one of mine. Nick: I have probably heard it fifteen thousand times and it’s never gotten old. Andy: Also “No Scrubs” by TLC, that one never gets old. We sing that one in the van a lot.

Think you would ever cover that song? Andy: I hope.

You are going to need some filler songs when you headline. Andy: Yeah (laughs).

What is something you have always wanted to do but have not done yet? Nick: Shoot a feature film. Ryan: Shoot a feature film star. Andy: I would like to be in Nick’s feature film.

Seriously, are you into movies? Andy: Especially Die Hard. Nick: Yeah, I definitely want to make one though within the next year or so. Ryan: I don’t know, I am sorry I don’t have a good answer for this one. Nick: I don’t even want that to be the answer though, I want something crazier. Ryan: I know I am not really funny today, I am a little bit upset at myself actually.

You guys are young, there has to be something! Ryan: I have done it all (everyone laughs). I want to learn how to ride a motorcycle.

Do you own one yet? Ryan: No, but wouldn’t that be funny?

Well, some people buy frivolous stuff they don’t use. Ryan: Yeah, I have thought about it. Me and Jon were going to buy motorcycles when I still lived in Vegas and we were going to drive up into the mountains until we realized what a bad idea that was. I still would like to because I used to live near the PCH in California, so I always thought it would be fun to drive a motorcycle up and down the coast.

If you could see any band or artist perform any song live, what would it be and why? Andy: These questions are so hard. Ryan: They’re so good though. Andy: Bon Jovi. I agree! No, I’m just joking. Ryan: Can you travel back in time and see the group when they were young?

Yeah, any line up, any song. Ryan: I might want to see The Kinks do “You Really Got Me” like in 1965 or something. Nick: “I Was A Teenage Werewolf” by The Cramps.

Any particular reason why? Nick: Yeah, I’m a really big Cramps fan and Lux died last year, so I never got to see them. Andy: Can I just say, every song that Gentle Giant has ever done.

Just an entire concert, any reason why? Andy: That is such a bad answer. They are just really wacky and they are just this weird band from the 70s that never made it anywhere but was really cool. Ryan: I can’t understand why.

You (Ryan Ross) received a backlash when you left Panic! At the Disco, did you expect that? Ryan: No, but I guess…

Did you have to learn to roll with it? Ryan: Yeah, I mean it was already bad enough without that having to happen to. I guess, when people don’t understand the reasons why it’s easy to get mad at the person you don’t know for something you think they did. It’s weird how some of the fans took it personally. I wish they would understand, this is our life and we have to do what is best for us.

You have to play the music that you want to play. Nick: People grow up. Ryan: It seems to be passing a little bit. Some people are coming around and saying, maybe it wasn’t the smartest train of thought I was on a couple of months ago. I don’t know, I mean obviously if I was a young kid, a teenager and my favorite band broke up I would be a little bit upset too.

Estrella: Do you guys have any final comments? Andy: No, that was my two cents. Ryan: Do you want to comment on it? (laughs) Andy: No, that about covers it. Ryan: Cool, thanks.

#the young veins #young veins #tyv #ryan ross #spring2010 #interview #nick murray #andy soukal #offstage #10042010

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stormyoceans · 1 year

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How are we feeling about early!Puen trying to woo Talay with extravagant but generic gestures vs finale!Puen proposing in an intimate, small-scale and personal manner

WELL I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU BUT I PERSONALLY FEEL VERY [MUFFLED SCREAMING] [TIRES SCREECHING] [GLASS BREAKING] [CARS EXPLODING] [SIRENS WAILING] [CUCKOO CLOCK STRIKING THE HOUR AND BEGINNING TO PLAY] ABOUT IT

i've actually mentioned this before, but the more i rewatch the show the more staggering and obvious it becomes to me just how different puen is in the first few episodes compared to the last ones: he feels so distant and hides so much behind acting, which isn't to say he's not being honest, but he's definitely not being genuine. there's this moment in ep 2 when he meets talay at the pub that i really love because i think it's a perfect example of this: "what if i have problems one day? who should i go to?" puen asks at one point, and when talay replies "me", you can literally see puen's face change completely and soften into this vulnerable expression full of wonder that is just so typical of the way he is gonna look at talay in the future, and THAT's the real puen, shining through the mask (jimmy really doesn't get enough credit for his acting he is SO GOOD with emotions)

of course this doesn't last long and he quickly goes back to hide behind his cool persona, but after this it's easy to pick up all the times where he uses acting to express himself, like when he recites lines or when he flirts with talay by doing big romantic gestures that he probably picked up from movies and that are actually extremely impersonal, just like you said. i think this is the thing that makes talay get angry in episode 4, because despite not being long since they met each other he KNOWS puen, he knows that spraying love words on a window isn't something that the 'real' puen would do, and that's what makes him believe that puen is just having fun with him

the fallout that follows that scene is the moment where puen starts to understand that being himself is the only way he can be with talay, and it's really beautiful to see his real self slowly coming out with each episodes, to see how talay can bring him out with such ease. i know the lay's marriage proposal is kinda silly, and i understand why some people want to see a more proper one in the our skyy episodes, but personally i just find it so natural so genuine so THEM, and i like that there's no big construction behind it, no real planning, just a bouquet of lotus and a bag of chips, because it feels real, it feels like the puen that talay is able to bring out, with no pretense or posturing: imperfect, maybe, but the one who talay loves and who loves talay in return

#SORRY VERA THIS DOESN'T MAKE A LICK OF SENSE BUT IN MY DEFENSE I STILL HAVE A HEADACHE AND ALSO [CRIES BLOOD]#puen's character journey means everything to me i wish i think had the right words to properly explain it #thank you so much for the emotional damage tho <3 #vice versa #m: ask #vera 💗

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rametarin · 9 months

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You know, the other half of how irritating dealing with radfems in the 80s was.

You all know the problem. You finally get the actual mask-dropped look of their face. The ugly truth; that radical feminism isn't, nor was it ever, about "equality." It was a very horrible set of values that appropriated the discussion and argument for women's equality and then wore it like The Thing. So you couldn't confront The Thing without appearing like you were just out to attack women.

But then upon this realization that the Good Guys are not The Good Guys, they're just another form of organized headfuck with their own ambitions and goals and pretenses, you're faced with another problem. Getting people to believe you. Proving it, in a time and place where they move with almost guerilla precission to not be recorded or heard by any that'd doubt or call them out, and securing themselves benefit of the doubt in their time and communities beforehand, leaving you looking like a babbling psychopath for accusing them of saying anything so heinous as, "men(class) are sexist."

You try to tell someone about this, but everybody you meet to talk about it is off base. Well, most. They kind of recognize what you saw, but their interpretation sucks. They, also, have an organized perception of this phenomenon, the problems it brings, and ideas on how to solve it. Unfortunately, they suck.

You try to explain radical feminism is wrong not because of the stated desire of liberal equality of the sexes on the basis of personhood, they, "agree with you" that radical feminism is bad, and then argue from a position of religious doctrine that states the role of a woman and her place. You try and square those circles and realize you are having the same conversation but saying entirely different things.

Frustrated, you stop talking to the person trying to evangelize you into supporting their form of resistance to radical feminism and their culture war, because while radical feminism is untenable and disgusting, you don't want the fucking religious right to supersede them.

So you try and contact other people and talk to them about the problems. They either are naive and have no experience in the matter one way or another and will think you're a crazed schizophrenic just shitting on supporters of female equality, or irrespective of radical feminism, just plain delusional. Even if you highlight every horrible thing written in the books by radfems, TERF or TIRF, in their own words, they just don't want to hear it. They either don't have the attention span or don't want the headache of dealing with the knowledge. So you out yourselves to them as a concern and they consider you a potential nutter and threat. That's another dead end.

Do you understand how much I despaired in the late 80s under this? Learning radical feminists' doctrine considered me an oppressor and oppressor-to-be in gradient just because I was male, and the way they encouraged other girls in my peer group to think, feel and act out against who they were told were their oppressors? It was like dealing with a horror movie, only the great unknowable Thing was a nebulous series of horrible, narcissistic feelings that could just colonize women and white knight male feminist minds, and get them into this histrionic bubble where reality didn't matter, just weird leftist edutainment cartoons and truisms from feminist literature.

The people you were most likely to meet that knew anything about it, already picked a side and wanted you to carry water for their particular ideology, or fuck off. The religious right just by their sheer MASS and open history and the stubborn, undying distribution of faith, and the radical feminists because they put the science of human communication to use and used every social utterance to hide motivation and skirt any kind of rule breaking. Like cold blooded, invisible used car salemen, or female humanities majors versions of Pick Up Artists.

You try to talk about these Gadflies, they just roil their eyes and treat you like you're telling an Everybody On the Bus Clapped story from the position of a Culture Warrior of the day. Not actually telling your experiences, or if you were and able to prove them, telling you they're anecdotes and don't actually matter or reflect feminism or the movement.

Whereas here in the 2020s, on the internet, it's like having the fucking forest of cryptids in a surveillance state. You people have no idea how good you have it. The fact the TERF Vs. Intersectionalist fracas for power in who rules doctrine in feminism these days is even ALLOWING the discussion of harmful feminist literature and academics, is something we NEVER were allowed to even discus in polite company, in the 80s.

We weren't even ALLOWED to acknowledge the Bad Radfems existed and were radfems, back in the day. You had to perform mental gymnastics and pretend they didn't exist, or else if you did, they'd write you off as "having joined the Other Side." And even any gradient of nuance, you may as well have been parroting expressions from Newt Gingrich or Rush Limbaugh.

Just being able to reblog radfem Ls.. you don't get how much of a luxury this is. It's like having a cheap, accessible digital camera to record an abusive schoolteacher that nobody could ever catch in the act or prove their abuse without hearsay. The sheer relief. The acknowledgement that it can be affirmed to be a common thing and not a paranoid, delusional fantasy of some gibbering tinfoil hat wearer surrounded by bottles of pee and Clancy novels.

The sheer strain of dealing with the inertia, not knowing if the person you were trying to tell your anecdotes about was going to just start easing away from you or trust but verify what you were saying. The frustration of the burden of proof being on you against a group that by nature is both protected by humanity and intellectually, morally, given the benefit of the doubt because of what alarming implications there are in imagining some sort of ulterior motive for radical feminism.

Even today, access to radfem literature is hidden by obfuscation. You're either a college kid or you're a friend and on the vibe with that particular kind of radfem in order to be able to access the books they're getting their ideas from, or the newsletters, or the magazines. Or else you won't know what they're discussing intra-group or what their subjects of interests are this month/season. Proving when they believe in hokum or are organizing to make something an issue like astro turf (like manspreading?) is difficult to impossible.

The internet and social media has removed some of that herarsay and impermanence of a conversation going up in thin air in time and space. It makes it easy to find people that share sentiments or stories like it and compare notes. And this is just so indispensible.. confluence across geographic regions at the speed of electrons.

Even if you have to nudge away irritating traditionalists and far-right assholes, it makes it easier to find the actual liberal egalitarians and organize. And filter.

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munsonology · 5 months

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Not to be a hater but quite literally if given the chance I would absolutely lay into my ex friend. Like he called me a slew of names spaced out over time each one worse then the previous, shared my trauma with people and tried to use it against me, and even told the kids I babysat for years MY FUCKING KIDS (not mine but basically they were) (and their parents) that I was a bad influence and a bad person. Like I took the name calling, but then I distanced because of the wife situation, but then I find out the rest of this shit????

Like ONE CHANCE I'd take it. Let me fucking at him. ESPECIALLY if I was in a group! Like you trying to come for me???

You??? No degree barely graduated high school can't swing a hammer or change your own oil man??? Coming for a smart strong bachelor degree woman???

You lived with your parents for years, not because of a cultural thing, but because you were "scared" to live alone! Bending to your mother's every beck and call. I should call you Norman Bates with how far up your mother's ass you are.

I could get a man or woman or ANYBODY if I wanted. I have options. remember when you had a crush on me dumbass and asked me out remember when you simped for me and took me to the movies for free what about that concert that was over 300 dollars FOR FREE cause you wanted me so bad? I could have had you and DIDNT and no one wants your 30 year old ass thats why you chose an 18 year old you fucking creep THAT is why we aren't friends and then all your dirty little secrets and skeletons about what you told others about me came out. You think your shit don't smell because you are full of it

You think you are so good and kind and everything you do is golden well its fool's gold you clown. Karma gonna get you just you wait (and thats the only reason I haven't fought u yet like...im trying to be the better person but they say one more thing in my presence...)

(And yes it is fucked they went for the 18 year old and it is even more fucked that they are now married like it was so quick like who thought that was okay not me that poor girl I hope she gets out cause he is not good he is not the love of her life hes just a man!!! Let me run him over cause YOU ARE A CHILD AND) (no I was gonna be petty af and post a throwback photo and tag everyone cause I have a picture of me, him, and his wife when she was 4 and he was 16 like 💀💀)(also again no shame to her if she needs help i am getting her out but she is devoted to him and disillusioned rn he got her brainwashed and yes we all grew up together and yes its a fucked situation and I want to go all Carrie Underwood on his ass and dig a key into the side of his car and knock out his headlights but karma is coming for him and karma could do better then me) (sorry for spilling in your inbox I am a ball of hate found out today and I mean AN HOUR AGO he actually was the one to spread a rumor about me that haunts me to this day as well as telling people about secrets I had told him that were not ok to tell and he has the fucking nerve to have come into MY HOUSE under false pretenses just to record me out of context and share it as proof im terrible oh fuck him)(please note as soon as I found out he was with the 18 year old I cut him out of my life but we work together just in different departments so I see him pretty regularly still sadly and I cant quit because I signed a contract but thankfully I dont have to see his crusty ass every day cause if I did....call me Elsa with the stone cold attitude he is receiving)

oh my god bestie 😭😭 first thank you for sharing 💖 he’s a weirdo for real. the fact he married an 18 year old is just sick, and what’s worse is you know he didn’t just meet her at 18 because they never do 😒

and that’s commendable of you to wanna look after her. it might take a while for her to see who he truly is. i think it’s important to remember she might not accept help :/ it might be healthier for you to take a step back. sometimes we need to put ourselves first for our own wellbeing. hopefully her family is aware.

it always hurts when people you think are your friend are the ones who purposely and carelessly hurt you the most. and i know you wanna fuck him up and key his car but he’s not worth going to jail over. the universe has a way of always working out, what we put out into the world we receive and trust he’ll get his for all the clownery he’s doing. it might take a while but it will. and when it does you can sip your tea with a big slurp 💀

#sav’s mailroom #sav’s anons #the amount of times i’ve been right about people #the longest took like 7 months and not only was i right about him #but he got fired for racism #😭😭😭 didn’t even have racism on my list bs about him

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solomonish · 3 years

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Dork Solomon Agenda

You say sexy shady sorcerer I say nerd and love of my life

Solomon is a sad lonely little man why just wants a genuine connection us that so much to ask???

No but seriously like. It's totally fine if you hc Solomon as this man-turned-lowkey-sex-god with a million succubi and more at his whim whenever he wants and would be a tough one to put the ol' ball and chain on like to each their own for sure! But that's not MY hc

(Thats not to say my hc means he doesn't ever engage in casual sex like that and wanting a genuine long term relationship at some point [or finding out thats what you want when you meet someone] are not mutually exclusive yknow)

So like Solomon isn't the type to be short with you or keep you at an arm's length (i mean...u get what I mean. Once you're close enough and all that jazz) or get annoyed by you wanting to be affectionate?? Hello??

He LOVES the little things you do (some on accident tbh). You feeling affectionate today and give him a kiss or three on his face before you leave to go to your separate classes? Adorable, he's fallen in love again. You do that thing where you like.. forget how to walk straight and just accidentally bump into him? No come back he likes being close to you :( He doesn't SAY these things but there's a light, airy laugh he has that gives him away.

If you're ever facetiming he will say "boo!" when you connect instead of just. Greeting you like a normal person.

His fuckin. His devilgram name is monSOLO. My mans is a star wars fan!!! I dont know any of The Discourse bc I'm not super into star wars myself but he has IN DEPTH opinions about the movies. Seriously rivals Levi in this aspect. Please make time for movie nights where you watch the movies together 🥺 especially if you haven't seen them before he'd love to convert you 🥺

Didn't Solomon also have a thing for TSL??? Or am I just imagining it??

I feel like his ideal date would be exploring something new, whether its this new spooky forest or "hey have we been down this alley before? Let's check it out!" but ideal date number TWO is movie night. Even if it isn't Star Wars. He likes to sit on opposite ends of the couch throwing popcorn into each other's mouths (and big candies like peanut m&ms where you both have almost choked before) and maybe a footsie war if he's feeling real devious. Then at some point you grab a blanket and snuggle up to him and you both fall asleep on the couch

Simeon yells at him when you leave because there's popcorn EVERYWHERE

LOVES when you laugh super loud. Idk man he just thinks its great when you have such unbridled joy and then he laughs too 😊 not as loud though he's more of a quiet chuckle kind of guy (most of the time).

Is friends with Asmo so is extremely great at slumber party gossip. Catch him in his pajamas, cross-legged on the floor while clutching a pillow to his chest and listening intently to you rant about the brothers.

"Come here I have a secret to tell you" (blows air in your ear) "okay okay I'm sorry but come here again" (blows air on your neck) "okay okay last time! I actually have something to tell you. Please? Its important...." (kisses ur cheek) "like u a lil bit xo"

Never the type to send "good morning beautiful" or "good night 💞" texts. Instead he'll send you something at 4 am like "the infinite cosmos will eventually swallow whole all familiarity and life as it is now presently known and despite the adaptations humans or demons or angels could make i will still have to adapt and face the world as an alien in the realm I love so dearly. Funny how the strongest of beings bow to the whim of space and time. But sometimes my eternal journey doesn't seem so daunting when I realize that with my everlasting life will be the memory of you no matter how distant and the survival of the vessel you loved...."

And then at lunch that day when the brothers pull you away he'll send you a picture of the lasagna they're serving with "this kinda looks like you? Don't worry I'd still hit it" and then two minutes later "you not the pasta"

Is the type to think randomly "oh damn I love you so much" but has an impressive filter about it. Or he thinks he does until Luke grumbles "ugh get a room thats the fifth time you've seen that since monday" ok, sometimes he has a good filter about it

He can't help it! Sometimes you just say something really smart (or something SPECTACULARLY dumb) or you do something cute like lean on him or smile a specific way or-

Sir.....you're head over heels sir :/

The type who would go to a playground at night with you and just swing on the swings talking about life

Wants to have a secret handshake with you!!

If you're ever on a road trip with just the two of you, you can get him to join in on the terrible singing but he'll be a lot quieter than you

Also will only join in if he isn't driving. If he is and you aren't talking, he's just humming underneath his breath. Will drum on the steering wheel though

Cooking

(Yes, it gets its own section because MAYBE I'm obsessed with the idea of MC teaching Solomon to cook and the food still turning out terrible but at least it isn't a void when MC is helping)

The type to flick water at you every time he washes his hands. Will chase you down just to do it.

"Hey, tilt your head back and open your mouth MC" (proceeds to dump too big a handful of shredded cheese in your mouth)

100% the type to lean over you just to hinder your cooking abilities. Who cares if the sauce splashes he's tiiiired.... you'd let belphie do it :(

Puts a hand on your lower back when he passes behind you. Hopes you'll lean into it/step back and offer him a kiss 🥺

Believes in always having a proper table setting. Prepare for whatever juice they have (or water) in wine glasses if you're having a nice-er meal

Under the assumption that a spell ruined his sense of taste (and not that he's just bad at cooking) he hates spicy food. He can feel the burn but he gets none of the flavor??? Wack. Don't hurt him like that MC. If you do because its hilarious to watch him try to be cool about it he will pout

Gets cheesy aprons. He just likes them.

Will hit you on the top of your head with a whisk to hear the noise it makes

Will buy every kitchen hack tool there is. A ketchup dispenser that looks like a gun? He's got it. A fish that helps you squeeze out the egg yolks? Yes! A dinosaur soup ladle? You bet! Pizza scissors? A tool that makes hard boiled eggs into cubes? Something that's gotta be like 200 years old and no discernable purpose? Absolutely! He wants a hot dog toaster. Do they even have hot dogs in the devildom?

Will sneak bites just because it bothers you

Overall

Look at him. He hasn't had friends in centuries. He's playful!

Look at his DEVILGRAM NAME

His funky little WAND

This is a man who is a huge nerd, thrives off of cliches and just wants to have a good time. So let him! Its mentally exhausting having those pretenses up all the time.

#solomon #obey me #solomon fluff #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #swd obey me #obey me solomon #solomon x reader #solomon hcs #mine #swd solomon #long post #??? i think it is #mobile formatting SUCKS

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kojinnie · 3 years

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Why you should NOT date AOT boys... (2)

I advised you but you still didn’t listen just because your fave was not on the first part. So hereby I present to you, reasons why these boys will only give you headache, part two!

Enjoy my lovelies, and stop hurting yourself with these men!

Regards,

Your ever-so-concerned friend, Kojin.

erwin - zeke - jean - connie

part one here (levi - eren - armin - reiner)

— ERWIN

This is not gonna be easy. You’re dealing with a man who has received multitude of achievements and recognition for being who he is and for doing things his own way, so obviously he is at that point in his life where he’s very comfortable in being who he already is. It’s all for a reason though, for Erwin oozes a certain kind of authority that is justified by his sharp thinking and years of experience. He is a self-made man and his success was the work of nobody but his own doing. So obviously, he has this uncanny self-assurance that is not easy to be dissuaded. He is ”The Man” character you hear about in pop songs and movies, and alike to dating Levi, the idea of being with Erwin gives you a sense of pride, you’ll be the most flattered whenever you hear people look at you with certain kind of acknowledgment, “Oh, that’s the one Erwin chooses.”

If you have problem with your self-esteem or you constantly doubt yourself, being with Erwin –especially when you have an established relationship— can really encourage you, to make you realize that there is a great thing in you, that even someone with the caliber of Erwin Smith can see. However, this may also lead to a bad thing because little by little, whether you realize it or not, your identity will be blurred with the constant presence of Erwin around you, simply because he has that magnificence in him that lures the limelight in, and your name will only be left as a prop to better dress the mannequin. This is a man who hardly ever hears “no” in his life, although he will never be violent or do things against your wish, it feels natural for him to always have a say in whatever you do. From the way you dress, your career trajectory, to decision for everyday chore. You would often feel as if you have no room to grow on your own because everything is decided by Erwin, where your opinion is dismissed. The most infuriating aspect of Erwin is that he will do all the aforementioned in such a sweet way. Caressing your cheek, patting your head softly before condescendingly says things like: “Honey, if you’ve seen what I’ve seen, you’ll understand. So for now, let’s just go with [insert his decision], okay?”

The ideal relationship for you and Erwin is if you have been with him since the get-go, before he made a name for himself. The good thing about Erwin is that he values nurture and he will show the utmost gratitude to whomever stood by him since day one. He will flaunt you, mention your name in every awarding speech, praise your perseverance for staying with him while actively making your own mark in your job. Basically, to survive a healthy and thriving romantic relationship with Erwin, you gotta see the quality in him before all the flashy titles, and you gotta be at similar degree of excellence with him. You gotta have his respect, you gotta make a name for yourself, only then he will listen to you and treat you as equal. So if you are still unsure about yourself, and you need constant reassurance about your role in this world, don’t go for Erwin, it will only exacerbate your self-doubt.

— ZEKE

Good god, this man. Where do I start? Okay, so you’re dealing with someone similar to Erwin, who enjoys a point in his life where his professional excellence has been widely established, he even has attained an almost mythical status. Remember how much the Warriors look up to him, saying things like “The enemies are no match to Zeke”? That’s basically his everyday life, and he has gotten so used to hearing that drilled into his ears for years.

For sure, he has a solid self-assurance; he knows what he wants, he knows how to get it, and anyone’s opinion holds very little value to him. But unlike Erwin, Zeke has grown sick of the compliment and has come to think that people are just licking his ass. This is because he made his success with little to no help from anyone else, and he has seen how differently people treated him back when he was just a nameless guy, compared to now, where he has made a name for himself. This experience, created a contradiction in his personality: One, the confident and self-assured Zeke, where he realizes that he’s smarter than most people, and; Two, the self-doubting Zeke, thinking that he is deemed as smart just because everyone comparable to him is stupid. He fears that it’s only until he meets someone smarter than him, before people finally realize that he’s a fraud. He’s the type to spew seemingly condescending remarks in a very casual way, like whenever someone comes to him in an awe and asks how does he do the things he does, he will just shrug it off and say, “I don’t know why everyone’s making a big deal out of that. It’s so easy.” When actually it’s just him, displaying his incomprehension on what make people think that he’s amazing when he hardly sees it.

Zeke leads a life where he thinks he can do whatever he wants, since he does not have a care in the world for anyone’s opinion and validation. This is because Zeke thinks either they are unworthy of his attention, or any person who has ever shown any interest towards him was only after something for themselves. In his early life, Zeke gets used a lot by people he trusted, and so this resulted in him not believing that someone would come to him and truly care for him with no pretense or hidden motives. The idea that he can be loved unconditionally is incredibly foreign, if not impossible to him. And this is the truth about him that he does not like to admit.

This is a person whose motto is to “enjoy things” because the enjoyment of things keeps him distracted from the disappointment he holds against people. So naturally, he does not like sentimental attachment, let alone committed relationship. What Zeke needs is just someone that he can ring up casually (and only occasionally because he’s always kept up with a lot of his professional endeavors), and spoil him with nearly childish affection. He likes to come home to someone who does not see him as this heroic figure that everybody sees, and rather just a careless kid who collects baseball cards with no active parent figure. He likes the cuddles, the kisses, the strokes, the lazy mornings where you pamper him like a demanding baby, because he never gets to experience such candid loving from his childhood, for he had to fend for himself since very young.

He likes to call you up late at night, with a sulk in his voice, “Baby can I come over…?” for you to act annoyed and reluctantly say yes to him. He likes that. He’s corny like that. But once he’s out the door, don’t expect him to text his whereabout or make your name known to the world, because he cannot afford such dire attachment. He’s as free as the bird, and after all, caging him into a committal relationship only justifies his belief that someone would only love him because they’re after something.

— JEAN

Jean is tenacity personified. He wasn’t born talented or lucky enough to have special heritage runs in his blood, he is flawed with a lot of shortcomings, but what makes him stands out is his capability to persevere in the eyes of adversity. To keep on trying although he does not pass the initial mark, and that’s exactly what makes him special. In dating Jean, you will never run out of things to do or talk about, because Jean will always try to make the best out of every situation with his resourcefulness. It’s very nourishing to see someone make such a big effort for you, and if you lack assurance that someone would go extra miles for you, then seeing Jean breaks his back trying to catch your smile is such a sight that you will cherish for a long time.

However, deep inside, Jean is a very exhausted man. He often feels like he is at the end of his wit trying to make everything works. He is deeply wearied by having to be at his top game every minute to compete, and fears that if his grasp slips even just a little, he will quickly fall behind everyone. This will result in Jean being torn apart between work and you, for he always has the urge to put tenfold effort to match others’ casual effort. So expect a lot of calls unanswered and rescheduled date nights during the weekdays. Although he feels extremely regretful with this condition, he also believes that there is nothing he can do, for he thinks he was born unfortunate and this is the effort he has to make due in order to catch up with the others.

All this unhealthy sense of urgency from always having the need to compete often sends Jean into a state of paranoia. He fears that people may team up against him, or that he’s being left out. It’s really frustrating to see Jean having the need to reply to a stupid meme Eren sends at 4 AM while getting high, just because Jean fears that if he does not reply immediately, he will wake up the next day with people already talking about the things he missed. He is always on guard, and as much as he tries to give in to his relationship with you, sometimes you would feel like his mind is not at home. His mind is out there wondering whether he will ever make a name for himself without being compared to people who exerts considerably less effort than him.

Being with Jean, you gotta understand where his fear lies, and you gotta be very calm when dealing with all of his paranoid urges. Whenever he’s not home because he overworks himself, don’t bombard him with calls and text messages, just give him time and welcome him home with warmth and a sense of ease. Be the person where he puts his hair down after a whole day of gruesome work. Jean needs a lot of validation especially from the person he loves (and he feels guilty towards for seemingly neglecting you over work), all he needs to hear is just “You did well today”, and he would be more than thankful. Make time as well to give him little surprise, to make him realizes that you are the one place he does not need to compete with anyone else for you are his home. When it comes to Jean, it’s about give and take, he doesn’t do well with a diva who demands attention 24/7, nor he does well with someone who is seemingly way over his league, for it will worsen his insecurity.

Point is, Jean is an amazing man, guys, I couldn’t really point out why you should NOT date him, because in fact, you SHOULD date him. Being with him is a learning curve, not only for you but also for him, to understand that in a relationship not only that you gotta love, but also to compromise.

— CONNIE

Connie, oh Connie. We all love Connie, he’s the guy who would complete a picture, a party is a bore without the sight of him, we all just love us some Connie, but often to his expense. People love Connie because he is outgoing, humble, and has this salt-of-the-earth persona, but more often than not, people also use him as a comedic relief, and although at first, he enjoys it because he would like the idea that people look forward to him, sometimes it also takes a toll in him, it makes Connie wonder whether he will ever be fit for bigger purpose other than someone else’s humor.

Connie thrives in being helpful to other people, he believes being of service is his greatest merit and thus he never complains whenever someone asks him to do something, nor does he ever dislike doing things for other people. But often he wonders even after all the great services he has done to other people, why haven’t people seen him as more than just a comedic relief? Why can’t he be the hero of a story, instead of just the people’s favorite side character? This thought lingers a lot in his mind, and if he does not find a way to let it out somehow, this may grow into a bitterness for he feels used.

Make no mistake though, Connie does not yearn to have the limelight on his own, he is content with his position, all he needs is a bit of credit and affirmation that he is as important his other peers. That he is not overlooked nor that he is expendable. Without this, Connie might grow to become resentful of people as he thinks they will only use him to their advantages. He will get easily jealous or at high alert, just because you passingly joke about Jean being handsome with his new haircut. He may go into that rabbit hole of anxiety, waiting until the day when you finally leave him for being mediocre and opt for his more attractive friend.

When this side of him comes out, initially he will be overtly self-deprecating. Masking it as a joke just to fish a reaction from you. If you laugh along, not knowing that it was a test, he will be sure that you are just using him and it won’t be long until you depart for someone with more load than him. Once he sets his mind, he can be quite vindictive to you, casually assuming you of the worst while trying to pass it as a joke. When this side of Connie comes out, the last thing you should do is to get riled up. Connie is not being rational, so you gotta be the adult here unfortunately. You gotta shower him with a lot of affection in the form of services like he’s always do to people around him, and slowly work your way to the topic you are meaning to ask. Connie might be alluding the question for a while, until he finally comes clean that he was jealous and did not know how to properly address this feeling.

Being with Connie comes with the responsibility of making a home for him where finally he gets to be the center attention. He is not a narcissist, so he does not want everything to center around him. All he wanna be is to be seen, in which every effort he has made to the people he loves are being outwardly recognized and thanked for. Little things would really make Connie happy, like posting a lot of photos with him on your social media, or arranging surprise birthday party with his co-workers where he can finally experience what it feels like to be the likes of Eren or Jean.

Thank you guys for all the likes, reblogs and comments - YOU ALL MAKE MY DAY. I was on the verge of being sure that no one would like things I write, but this.. This... (wails in telenovela style). I thank you and I wish you a great week ahead!

Guys for real if you still simp these guys even after this fair warning then I have no choice but to give you a personalized reason on why you should not date your fave AOT characters!

> [CLOSED] Twisted Match-Up! Send me three worst traits of yours + your AOT fave character and I’ll make you a short scenario on how shitty your relationship would be with them. Fire away here!

#aot headcanons #erwin headcanons #zeke headcan #jean headcanons #connie headcanons #erwin smith #zeke yeager #zeke jaeger #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein #connie springer #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk headcanons #aot #snk #kojin writes

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thunderheadfred · 3 years

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🤚The Second Worst (Pt. 2/?)🤚

Oh hey look it's more of that Shigaraki x Reader thing I don't have a name for yet but is definitely not just headcanons anymore oh god I have to admit this is some kind of fanfic now don't I??? HC's // The Second Worst: 1 - 2

Also on AO3. Set in a parallel AU where a quirkless reader meets Shigaraki before he forms the League. No specific warnings, but things get pretty errrm..... handsy. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

He shows up in the afternoons, usually. Just enough time to mess you up before abandoning you to another night of yearning. Sometimes he reappears so early in the morning that you wonder if he’s been sleeping in your stairwell and listening to you masturbate.

The pretense of gaming or watching movies quickly falls away. All you care about is touching him. The moment Tenko walks through your door, you’re undressing him with your eyes. You undress him with your hands, too. Careful and slow, always watching his jittery face. He allows you to explore a little further every time… but it’s never enough.

Sometimes he goes completely still, locked somewhere deep within himself. At first you worry you’re taking advantage of him. But then he’ll blink and lunge for you. His half-gloved hands will grope over your clothes and fist your hair. He’ll kiss you like he needs you to breathe.

His lips are getting softer. Every kiss tastes fresher, and he smiles into your mouth. He’s getting healthier, you think. You’re startled; you’re proud. He’s actually taking care of himself. He’s changing.

But then his naked finger brushes your skin… and he jolts. In an instant, he shrinks back into that frail, angry creature you met in Akihabara. You tell him it’s okay, that you trust him. He shakes his head no, his whole body clenching. He paces. He fumes. Sometimes he runs out the door too fast to follow, like death is on his heels.

You realize: as much as he scared you in the beginning, he’s infinitely more terrified of himself.

Let him be afraid, you think. As long as he comes back.

- - -

He starts losing patience with himself, inventing his own loopholes. He finds ways to touch you without his hands. He likes to pull away while he kisses you and nuzzle his face into your palm. He breathes shakily and kisses your wrist, tonguing your life line and up between your fingers where you’re ticklish and vulnerable. His lips trace the bones of your arm to the curve of your ribs. He leaves bite marks on your chest and neck and belly and thighs.

The first time he noses up against your sex, he cums in his rumpled pants. You watch his narrow hips grind through empty air, and imagine him fucking you. You think about fucking a lot these days, and never more than when he’s on top you with his cloth-covered cock digging into all the wrong places.

When you moan and buck towards him, he almost laughs. It sounds so damn airy and sweet, like cotton candy. You throb all the way down to your toes. He licks his lips and kisses your thigh, his hot breath flickering exactly where you need him most, his breathing quick and ragged…

Yes, baby.

You can’t believe you just called him that out loud. Baby. It just tumbled out. But when he’s like this, half-naked and sweat-glittered, his fairy-soft hair pooled on your thighs and his eyes drinking you in, that’s all you can think of…

You feel his hot cheek burrow into you, trying to hide his blush. But the heat of his laugh, the curve of his shy, secret smile gives him away.

Baby. Your baby.

Fuck, you’re so close, and all you need is for him to touch you, just once…

His phone buzzes in his pocket. His blown-out pupils shrink down to nothing and he sits bolt upright.

No, no. Not again. Not now. Who could possibly be calling him? He doesn’t have any friends, he only has you. Only you, who still doesn’t have his god-damned phone number (and why is that?) so who the fuck could be more important?

Tenko doesn’t answer, but the phone doesn’t stop buzzing.

I have to go.

- - -

An insecure pang beats in your chest. Maybe he’s just using you.

No. You can’t really believe that. Not when he’s so frantic every time he comes to you. Not when his kisses scratch and burn like he wants to tattoo himself into your skin. Not when he’s barely through the door before he’s pushing his body against yours, his rough, thin voice whining into your neck.

Not when he finally makes you cum.

His dark eyes stare up at you. His long-fingered hands open your thighs, his gloved thumbs digging into the meat of you. A rare moment of fearlessness, maybe. Possibly he is awed by his power over you in this frozen, breathless moment. He whispers, Like this? as he lowers his unskilled mouth to your core. Tentatively, he learns how to please you.

Yes, Tenko. Like that. Please, baby. Just a little more…

You want his fingers inside you. His fingers and his cock. But you know better than to ask while his hands skitter like frightened moths across your thighs. Instead, you slide your fingers into his hair and die, just a little, in his mouth.

- - -

He’s paranoid about two things: touching you… and staying out too late.

You think you can understand the first fear well enough. He never comes near you without gloves on, and even after all this time, he still instinctively avoids touching your bare skin with his fingers. Once, you tried asking him directly about his quirk; that was a mistake.

As for the second fear: Tenko’s schedule is a strange, nonexistent thing. You know he doesn’t work or attend university; you suspect he never attended grade school either. He seems to have no social or familial attachments, no personal obligations of any kind. All bad signs.

Why aren’t you alarmed? You know—you know it deep down in your bones—Tenko can’t commit to you. You can’t commit to him, either, and you haven’t. Not really. This whole thing feels like a hallucination. No one in your life has any idea he exists. Because what the fuck would you tell them?

He seems to have no motivations in life other than video games and bottomless misanthropy. There’s no future with him the way he is now. And yet… you keep letting him in. You keep clinging to his sleeve, asking him to stay. You keep ignoring the gnawing, ever-expanding knot in your gut that tells you to run.

But why would you run? One look from him turns that knot to butterflies.

- - -

Eventually, you gather enough courage to ask why he lives somewhere with such a strict curfew.

You think it’s a tactful way of asking if he’s homeless and living in a shelter. Maybe there is no tactful way to ask that kind of thing, because he looks at you like you’re stupid. You try to explain yourself: he doesn’t have to stay anywhere he doesn’t like. It’s… it’s okay if he stays with you. For a little while. You wouldn’t mind. Until he can find his own place. At least that way you’d know he’s safe.

Father will keep me safe, he says. The wide, toothy certainty of his smile stops your blood.

Much, much worse; the way he looks around your apartment as if a burlap sack has been ripped off his head. When his eyes settle on you, he can’t leave fast enough.

- - - - -

#shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #shigaraki headcanons #gender neutral reader #bnha #mha #fred writes #smut

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heliads · 3 years

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The Lookout (Part One)

Your brother, Stiles Stilinski, has a feeling that newcomer Theo Raeken only means trouble for the McCall pack. When he sends you to spy on the werewolf, you’re not sure what to expect.

masterlist / part two

You sigh irritably. The school day is over, it’s the weekend, the last thing you want to do is listen to your older brother yammer on about his classmate-related fears. However, Stiles Stilinski has rarely cared about what you did or did not want to do when it came to his werewolf-safety lectures, and so he continues on speaking. This time, the topic of this discussion is one Theo Raeken; namely, the fact that the guy is obviously a supervillain. At least according to Stiles.

“Look, you can’t tell me it’s not suspicious. Werewolves don’t just show up in Beacon Hills without something to prove. Besides, the guy even walks and talks evil.” You push open the doors to the school with a sigh. “I think he’s fine. You’re just being paranoid.” Stiles lets out an irritated huff. “Usually, the paranoid people in movies end up being right. You should listen to me. I could be right about this.”

You give him a look. “Or you could be wrong, and we’ll just be running away from someone who could be a potential ally for no good reason. Honestly, I think you’re just overreacting.” Stiles stares at you, utter bewilderment crossing his face. “You know what, I think I know what it is.” He stabs a finger in your general direction, suddenly decisive. “You think he’s hot. That’s what it is. You don’t want to listen to me because you think he’s hot and you don’t want to consider him a bad guy.”

You turn to him with a look of utter shock. “Excuse me?” Stiles gestures loosely with his hand as the two of you continue walking through the school parking lot. “You keep staring at him, you smile when he talks, you don’t want to listen when I tell you he’s obviously a bad guy. It’s simple- you think he’s hot.” You let out a snort of laughter. “You stare at him more than I do, Stiles. Besides, if we’re talking about staring then we need to talk about Lydia. You can’t keep your eyes off of her. Honestly, it’s kind of cute.”

Stiles swats your shoulder. “We’re not talking about Lydia. We’re talking about Theo.” You flash your brother a smile as you reach his beloved Jeep, opening the door to slide inside the passenger’s seat. “I think you’re being ridiculous. And, even if I did happen to think he’s hot, it wouldn’t matter. You’re still insane.” Stiles lets out a squawk of protest as he enters the car as well.

The two of you are so involved in your argument that you don’t notice the brown-haired boy pausing by the door of his truck. He turns when he hears his name tossed around by you and your brother, but a small smile rises unbidden to his lips when he hears your laughter. The boy hesitates a second longer, and then the bubble of your conversation is drowned out by the sound of the Jeep’s engine starting up. The boy’s grin slides away as if he’s suddenly remembered himself, although he does cut one last glance your way, eyes lingering on your easy smile.

You know something is about to happen when Scott, Lydia, Kira, and Malia all show up to your house. You raise an eyebrow at your brother when they all file into your kitchen. Your father is coincidentally absent, although you’re sure Stiles timed this to happen when he was out on a shift as sheriff. “I’m sure I’d like to know what this is all about. I usually get told about pack meetings, but now I’m getting a little worried.”

Stiles folds his hands together. “I didn’t tell anyone that there was a pack meeting until just now because I wanted to make sure we wouldn’t have anyone joining in.” Malia cuts in. “By ‘anyone’, he means Theo. The whole point of this is about Theo.” You grin. “I had a feeling it would somehow tie to him.” Stiles looks miffed. “He’s a threat, okay? And by the end of this, I’ll be able to prove it.” You watch him with a quizzical eye. “What does that mean?”

Stiles leans forward across the table. “I want you to go spy on Theo. You’re going to go pretend to be his friend and everything, and you’re going to find out what he’s hiding from us.” You mirror his stance in front of the table. “If you’re right and Theo’s such a bad guy, why would he tell me anything? This plan makes no sense.” Scott steps forward. “That’s why we need you to convince him to let down his guard. Theo assumes Stiles is on to him, right? If he thinks he can steer you away from Stiles, you might be able to trick him into giving up some information.”

You consider this. “You really think I can be a spy for the pack? You actually think this is going to work?” Stiles reaches across the table to clap you on the shoulder. “I know it’s going to work. He won’t suspect a thing.” You sigh. “I wish I had your confidence. I’m fairly sure he’s going to see through this the first time I try to talk to him.”

You have no idea why Stiles thinks this is going to work. It’s a terrible plan, and the chances of it succeeding are slim to none. That being said, you have never backed down from a challenge, especially not from your brother, and so you’re certainly not about to start now. You form a plan: simple, but probably effective. When leaving school the next day, you have an argument with Stiles, coincidentally in front of Theo’s truck. You allow the werewolf to see you walk away angrily from your brother, and allow yourself a small smile when you see his truck come to a stop as you’re walking furiously down the sidewalk.

You look over when you hear a shout from Theo’s direction. “You need a lift?” You pretend to look hesitant, and then suddenly decisive, as if not wanting to trust Theo and then remembering that Stiles (who you’re supposed to hate) doesn’t like Theo. You walk over, sliding into the passenger’s seat. Theo raises an eyebrow when you close the truck door a little louder than normal. “You want to tell me what happened?” You just sigh, staring out over the road ahead of you. “I hate my brother.”

Theo chuckles as he drives away from the sidewalk, continuing on down the road. “What, has he finally gotten to you too?” You heave an exasperated sigh. “He won’t let me do anything. He keeps repeating this same excuse that he wants to ‘protect me from all the supernaturals’ but he won’t let me prove myself. He’s not even that much older than me, and I can handle myself.” Theo smirks. “If he can’t see that, he’s an idiot.” You grumble to yourself. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Theo ends up driving you back to your house, coming to a stop in your driveway. You turn to him. “Thanks for the ride. I didn’t really like the idea of having to walk all the way back here.” Theo offers you a cool grin. “Hey, no problem. If you ever want to get away from all this, my door is always open.” You smile quietly in spite of yourself. “Thanks. I might take you up on that.” You wave goodbye, jumping down out of the truck and walking to the door. You’re pleasantly surprised to note that Theo doesn’t leave until he sees you go in, making sure that you’ll be alright. You didn’t expect this to go so well this quickly, but you’re not about to complain.

Stiles arrives at your house a short while after you, and he bounds excitedly over to you. “So, how’d it go? Does he trust you unconditionally?” You laugh. “Isn’t Theo supposed to be a sinister, heartless supervillain? No, he doesn’t trust me.” Stiles holds up a finger to prove his point. “Yet. He doesn’t trust you yet. You can do this.” You groan, shaking your head as you try to hold back a grin. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The next morning, you make sure to keep up the pretense of pretending to hate your brother. Theo actually makes it surprisingly easy to continue with the act- you’ve barely walked outside to eat your lunch when he’s already calling you over to sit next to him. You slide onto the bench, a few tables down from Stiles and his friends. Theo shrugs at your raised eyebrow. “Hey, you were glaring at Stiles so I assumed you still weren’t over the argument. I figured you might want somewhere else to eat.”

You grin. “And you want to make him mad because you know he doesn’t trust you?” Theo returns your twisting smile. “I’m not going to pretend like that didn’t cross my mind. I mean, if you don’t like him why should I?” You call up a look of utter indignation. “He’s just being so annoying! He doesn’t trust me to do anything. Stiles isn’t even that much older than me but he’s already trying to be a helicopter parent.” This is exactly what Theo wants to hear, and you know it. Theo leans forward, a conspiratorial grin on his face. “Then what do you say we ditch him? I’m willing to bet that there’s more to Beacon Hills than the limits of Scott’s pack.”

Stiles warned you about Theo’s manipulation tactics, the way he tries to sway everyone to his side. You can’t deny that he’s good at it- if it weren’t for the fact that the little dispute between you and Stiles was completely fabricated you’d almost believe that Theo truly wants to help you. This being said, you can spot Theo’s lies reaching out to you and so you wrap them around yourself, calling up your lies to combat his. Two can play at this game.

You flash him a smile. “Sounds perfect. Meet me after school?” Theo nods. “We can take my truck.” Across the tables, Stiles finally glances up and sees you. The look of bitter annoyance on his face upon seeing you with Theo isn’t hard to fake, although it still makes you and Theo laugh. This might be more fun than you had first envisioned.

How do you convince an apparently betraying conman and serial liar to trust you? It’s surprisingly easy with Theo, actually. You end up spending more and more time together- drives to and from school turn into impromptu road trips, you meet up at his house or the school or the middle of the woods. You’re not sure you’ve ever laughed so much with anyone before, and it’s getting harder and harder to remember that you’re supposed to be spying on this guy, not actually becoming friends.

That being said, you have been able to uncover some information. Something is definitely up about Theo’s parents, outside of the signature dilemma uncovered by Stiles. You’ve seen the way Theo’s parents watch him when his back is turned, the way fear suddenly crops up in their eyes. They almost act like he’s a stranger, someone to be afraid of. You’re not sure why, but you find yourself making excuses to head away from them. Stiles would probably want you to stick around, try and figure out any more clues, but it’s so unnerving that you want to avoid his parents instead.

Also, there’s something not quite right about Theo’s story. You’ve heard him mention it a couple of times now- he was out skateboarding late at night, an alpha attacked, he was turned into a werewolf just like Liam and the rest. Yet Theo doesn’t own a skateboard, hasn’t for a while. In fact, you had casually asked him a question about skateboarding and he had completely drawn a blank. It makes no sense, which means that something is definitely wrong with his story. And if Theo is lying about how he became a werewolf, then he’s probably lying about why he came to Beacon Hills, which means that you and your friends might be in more danger than you had thought.

Even with all of this, though, you’re still not sure that you want to leave Theo’s side. When you told Stiles and the others about everything you’d uncovered about Theo, they’d been worried. Scott had pulled you aside, asking if you wanted to stay so close to Theo. If he was as dangerous as you think, you might be at risk if you continued hanging out with him away from the pack. Stiles, too, seems less certain of his foolproof plan for you to spy on the werewolf and mentioned that you might want to step away. Every time they ask, though, you make up excuses. There might be more to find out. It’ll be good to have someone get close to him, just in case. No matter what, though, you know one thing: you don’t think you could leave Theo if you tried.

These thoughts keep burning into the back of your mind, but you manage to push them aside for today. It’s a beautiful night, the sun having finally set and the colors of the dusk washed away into an all-encompassing inky black. The stars are spangled across the horizon, and a laugh is burning deep in your throat as you race Theo through the woods of the Beacon Hills Preserve. You technically shouldn’t be here this late at night, you know that, but for some reason, you can’t entirely force yourself to leave. You’re with Theo, he’ll make sure nothing happens to you.

Your feet pound on the packed earth, ducking under low-hanging branches and around fallen tree stumps. You think you’re alone, and then a pair of arms wrap around your waist and force you to a stop. A laugh bubbles out of you before you can help it, and you swat at Theo’s arms, although he doesn’t let go. “You ass, I thought you were farther behind me.” Theo’s voice is close to your ear, his face only inches from yours. “I’m a werewolf, remember? I could outrun you any day.”

You roll your eyes, although this just makes the smirk on Theo’s face broaden. “It’s mean, that’s what it is. Maybe I’m trying to finally be alone, you don’t know that.” Theo just chuckles, the sound deep in his chest and making you shiver. “If I believed that, I would have stopped running.” There’s a silence now, a silence that hangs over the two of you like a cloak. You realize where you are, where his hands still encircle your waist and his storm-grey eyes are still locked on yours. There’s a second of hesitation, and then he leans down and kisses you.

If you were smart, you would break away. If you were smart, you would realize that Theo Raeken is only doing this to get to you and to get to your pack, that he is more dangerous than you could know. Your best option is to leave, to stop before you get your heart involved. But that’s already happened, hasn’t it? Despite your best efforts, despite everything you know about Theo, you can’t help but kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and letting him wash away everything you can remember about the world.

Maybe you’re not supposed to be falling for Theo. You’re not sure that you ever had a choice.

#theo raeken #theo raeken imagines #theo raeken x reader #theo raeken oneshot #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf oneshot #teen wolf theo #teen wolf theo imagines #teen wolf theo x reader #teen wolf theo oneshot

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angelhummel · 3 years

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Okay but the way like Brittana were best friends and Klaine were best friends but Rachel never really had that with anyone. Even from the start of the show everyone would be paired off like Artie and Tina, Kurt and Mercedes. Then Brittany and Santana, Quinn and Finn. And Rachel was always left on her own. The only time she was ever really partnered with someone was if it was a boyfriend that was basically treating her like crap the whole time

And she never knows what it means to be best friends and soulmates with someone and she’s always projecting it onto Kurt and saying they don’t need boys, they just need each other, and that he’s her soulmate

And everyone wants to talk about comphet with Quinn but ignore basically the same things with Rachel. Quinn wants the status of being popular because it’s what’s expected of her. Rachel is drawn towards Finn bc she thinks it’s expected for the wide eyed young ingenue to get with the popular male lead. Quinn puts off having sex with Sam saying they need to win prom king and queen first. Rachel tells Finn she won’t have sex until she’s won her first Tony. She only ever goes after a boy because of what they can give her - a male lead for duets, song writing material, revenge, experience for a performance, “vaguely Eurasian children”

And it’s so obvious that she’s into girls. She barely knows how to act around Quinn bc what’s expected is for them to be rivals but she just doesn’t feel that way. She has nothing but respect and admiration for Quinn and that’s one pillar of Rachel Berry’s character that doesn’t waver, at least for the first 3 seasons. She can’t shut up about how pretty Quinn is and is never too busy to tell her how much she admires her. She’s always comparing herself to the Cheerios and talking about how beautiful they are, and she was practically glowing when Santana and Brittany complimented her Britney look

And it’s so sad because for the majority of the show, Rachel is practically hardwired to only see other women as nothing but her competition. Another thing she surely learned from all those showbiz movies she grew up watching. You know she didn’t have any friends before, so that’s probably where most of her knowledge of social interactions came from

But when she does drop all the pretense and just let herself be normal around other girls, it leads to some really sweet and touching and soft moments. And I think that Rachel is a pretty touchy feely type person. Always resting her head on people’s shoulders, her famous “I’m going to hug you now”, running her fingers thru Kurt’s hair and even touching Tina’s boobs during the Pilot (though those are obviously played for laughs). And then the sweeter and more understated moments, again all about the ladies. Braiding Mercedes’s hair, wiping away Quinn’s tears, all the hand holding with Santana in New York

And she starts getting along so well with Santana in NY since they aren’t fighting over boys and are on different career paths. Even considers her her best friend. But the second Santana steps onto Rachel’s path again, Rachel freaks out and flips the switch from friend to rival in an instant bc that’s honestly all she knows. If Santana stayed in NY I think they could’ve had a breakthrough moment and Rachel could’ve actually started to work through her issues and also we could’ve gotten canon Pezberry, but that’s verging onto another topic of post completely

TL;DR Rachel Berry is a lesbian with a big gay crush on every girl she meets and doesn’t know how to handle herself because she’s so used to only viewing women as competitors. Left confused and with no real outlet for her romantic and sexual feelings, the comphet tendencies take over and she tries to convince herself that she can get what she needs from all the dumb boys in her life. Lesbian Rachel is real and it’s one of the great American tragedies that they never seriously explored this avenue in canon

#glee #rachel berry #long post #my thoughts #anti finchel #anti st berry #lol finchel #lol st berry #its not too mean to them #but better safe than sorry #i do want to talk more about pezberry and the s5 feud #but thats not for here lol #rachel is a lesbian

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aitarose · 3 years

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SEVEN AM (T. OIKAWA) ⤷ pairing: oikawa tooru x fem!reader

synopsis: between wrinkled bedsheets and lost undergarments, the evening of your dreams is one of a living nightmare—you, alone in a simple bed without its king.

word count: 1.2k

genre: fuck boi!tooru, best friend!reader, one night stand, one-sided pining, angsty angst

warnings: extremely suggestive content, swearing, slight obsession, brief mentions of intercourse :( but not fully descriptive bc i’m a minor haha ok

24 hours collab masterpost

notes: for bby ly’s (@kyotarou) collab that i already forgot the name of oopsie brb OK it’s called the 24 hours collab aha aha there we go. also half of this takes place at like midnight umm chile anyways

It’d been a spur-of-the-moment decision, something that you’d relived over and over again within the constructs of your own mind—but never believed would actually come true. It was the very thing that you’d wished for most in all of your months by his side, never realizing that it was right within your grasp.

The dream being just beneath your skin, hands laced together through gentle movements and breathless moans, all occurring in one single night of ecstasy.

A night that had been, of course, proceeded by your typical evening of celebration. The excited haze of energy that followed a perfect win on the court—victory for Club Athletico San Juan, which was led by none other than their esteemed setter—your best friend, Oikawa Tooru.

You’d walked out of the bar together after eleven PM, hand-in-hand, him swinging your palms back and forth whilst you strolled down the spaced pavements—avoiding crazed traffic and wandering strangers—heading towards your quaint apartment which sat peacefully atop the local cafe.

One after the other, the two of you stepped inside—locking the door behind you as you dropped your abandoned shoes on the mat, having taken them off hours earlier in the midst of dancing. His hand had never left the small of your back, guiding your steps towards the cozy kitchen with a dream-like cloud floating through the air.

You’d offered him a mug of decaffeinated coffee, turning on the machine with the muscle memory of countless similar nights, not noticing the hardness of his gaze. There had been a glint in his eyes—an expression you’d never quite seen before displayed on his features as you turned to face him, the only sound being the soft grinds of the water heater.

There wasn’t any verbal discussion, no command that had signaled him to rush over and take your jaw between his calloused fingers. Only a split second of eye contact, both of you having the same wish in that moment—to finally know the feeling of your lips on his in an ever-seizing kiss.

And it really had been everything you’d dreamed of. Soft and passionate, perfection in terms of intimacy—a seemingly life-changing kiss between you and your best friend. The very person you’d been falling for for years on years now. The man that you imagined yourself meeting at the end of a rose covered aisle in beautiful designer attire.

The path from the kitchen to your bedroom hadn’t taken long to conquer, strewn clothing across the floor, like scattered treats in the woods on the way to the witches hut. A desirable sight, but also one that would inevitably lead to pain and heartbreak—and unfortunately for you, those outcomes had never crossed your mind, not even once.

But now, as you lay awake—facing the bedroom wall in an attempt to ignore the rising sunlight—there was a physical pain in your chest. The bonds of your being snapping into two as you heard him roll out of bed, groaning at the bright rays whilst his regretful actions cycled through his mind.

“Shit.” You heard him mumble as you turned slightly to see him run a hand through his disheveled locks. He was biting his lip, tapping his foot against the hard wood floor with his eyes on the window, staring out into the incoming horizon with reddened irises. “Shit.”

Oikawa stood, abandoning the bodily indent in the comforter and scrambling to find his clothing. It seemed as if he were more focused on the location of his belt than the status of your relationship—all the more confirming that you were nothing but another one of his flings. Another one of his famous one night stands.

“Tooru?” You called out, sitting up with your elbows as support, a fully serious gaze falling upon his eyes of fear as his attention snapped around. “Tooru, where are you going? Do you have an early practice?”

There was a part of you that wanted to believe that he did have an excuse for trying to leave you. That there was a valid reason as to why he hadn’t held you through the morning haze, why he hadn’t pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head in an attempt to wake you softly—why he hadn’t confessed any true feelings for you in the night turned dawn?

But all of your worries were confirmed at his reaction. His usually charming cheeks were replaced with ones devoid of commitment or love, his stance being awkward and weary rather than comfortable and content in your presence. He was practically a different person.

You didn’t know this Oikawa Tooru, you hadn’t ever known the man before you now—but all the women at the bar, the fans in the stands, girls at the beach who’d whistle in his way and send him flirty glances had always been familiar with this feeling of longing.

It was the tone of rejection and regrets, stolen kisses that had been thrown into the bin—taken away to the sea and lost in the landfill of broken hearts and mixed emotions. He didn’t need to come up with a response to your wonders, knowing that you were smarter than his empty promises and lies. All that was needed was a pained shake of the head and the stale wake of his absence.

Tears rained down your make-up smudged skin at the sound of the front door closing, the realization of reality setting in—the reality that he would likely never take a walk with you on your path of life again. Your streets were at one for what you wanted to be forever—but forever doesn’t always last, does it?

No, because if it did you wouldn’t be driving down the boulevard of broken dreams with an open hand—an open hand that was, for some reason, still waiting for him to come back. Still hoping with every part of your soul that he would come rushing into your arms and fall back into a peaceful slumber.

Perhaps you could find that slumber yourself, snuggled in the cold cotton sheets of your king sized bed—which was ironically missing its king of the court.

If there was any chance that you could find rest, lucid dream the reality that you oh-so-wished you were currently living, you’d take that opportunity. After all, what is life without the one you love? What is life if not missed connections and broken signals? What is the point of trying so hard, only to be beat down after finally getting what you wanted?

Maybe you just weren’t meant for the type of mind-blowing love you saw in the movies or on television. The lifestyle of happiness just wasn’t in your book—the dream of dancing through a fairytale was a phony pretense, as you weren’t the princess in the story, but rather the abandoned love interest instead.

Turning the next page wouldn’t be easy for you, it would take all the mental strength in your bones—but at the sight of the parting clouds and shining sun, you knew you’d be okay. The next chapter of your story would be a good one, you were going to make sure of it—with or without him.

dedicated to my silly little beautiful baka @gellysticks. you’re such a silly goose you silly little goose you

aitarose do not copy, claim, or mimic my writing, works, themes, copy and paste my words, or headers and tags as your own. do not use my blog as a template for your own, or base your theme on mine.

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slipping-through-my-fingertips · 3 years

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Thought You Liked Me Too

Part 1 of Not the One series.

Summary: Blaine is just starting at NYADA, spies Kurt Hummel, and promptly falls in love. One issue, Kurt is dating the lead singer of the acapella group Blaine wants to join.

Notes: Partly inspired by Maisie Peters’ song “John Hughes Movie”

Read Part 2 here

AO3

Blaine tells his friends that the first time he saw Kurt Hummel was at the club they frequent.

When they tease him about his little crush, it’s everything straight out of his daydreams. Dancing with Kurt in the middle of a dancefloor not caring who’s watching, foreheads pressed together breathing in each other’s air, and being able to lean in anytime he wants to kiss him.

Except none of those daydreams are true and none of those friends are really Blaine’s friends.

Sam made friends with a bunch of upperclassmen who had connections to get the pair of roommates fake IDs. Callbacks was a primarily NYADA scene so the NYU students wanted nothing to do with it. Blaine had spent the last weeks of summer hanging out with Sam’s NYU friends exploring the city by day and clubbing at The Lion’s Den at night.

He knew once he started school some of his weekend nights would be spent here and others at Callbacks. Hopefully, Blaine Anderson could make friends at NYADA as easily as Sam had at NYU.

It had only taken two days before Sam came back to their apartment talking Blaine’s ear off about a group of guys he spent orientation with, “seriously dude, Dante and I are like long-lost twins.”

Blaine thought the same thing about him and Sam.

“That’s great, Sam.”

“We’re going out tonight. They want me to meet the rest of the group.”

Blaine was still scrolling through his phone, checking his emails again to make sure he hadn’t missed anything from school. They sent out orientation day schedules when he and Sam went grocery shopping yesterday. Ever since Blaine’s been slightly on edge. Maybe he should update his email notification preferences?

“You have to come!” Sam exclaimed, jumping onto the couch. “Please, Blaine! You’re my best bud. I want you to meet them.”

“I don’t know Sam…they’re your classmates.”

“Come on! It’ll be fun.”

It never took much to cave to Sam. Not when he made his lips so pouty.

“Fine, when and where?”

“Yes!” Sam did an air fist bump. “9 at the Lion’s Den.”

Then, Sam disappeared into his bedroom.

“The Lion’s Den,” Blaine murmured. “Doesn’t sound threatening at all.”

Blaine came to learn that The Lion’s Den was always crowded. Even on weeknights. From trivia night to karaoke to wing specials, everyone had a reason to be here. Not to mention their cheap drinks. If you wanted a fun, inexpensive buzz this was the perfect place.

Their lenient ID policy helped too.

The story of his first Kurt Hummel sighting went something like this: Spinning around on his barstool, after ordering himself a vodka coke and getting a weird look from the bartender, to admire the decor. Dark blue walls with high ceilings. Metal lion heads at every corner. Plenty of multicolored lights dancing over the patrons.

That’s when he saw him.

Bright blue eyes in a sea of dancers. Pushing his way out of the center of the dance floor.

He tells their friends for weeks to come that it was Kurt’s silver shirt that caught his attention that night. Blaine hadn’t known anyone could pull off such a color. It appeared to be made of silk and doused in glitter with the way it shined under the colorful lights in the club.

But that’s all fiction. A story he created because he was laughably bad at hiding his feelings. It took four days after he spun this tale for Tina and Angie to ask questions over lunch. By this point, Blaine had already had his heart broken by Kurt but kept up pretenses for the girls.

What’s his name?

Who’s got you smiling like that?

Someone put a twinkle in your eyes.

Tell us. Tell us. Tell us.

Even when Blaine knew there was no hope, his heart held on. Kurt Hummel had left his mark on him from just one measly conversation. So, he lied and told them he had a crush on some guy he saw at the club. A guy he didn’t speak to and would never see again. A guy whose name would never leave his lips.

Tina called him a hopeless romantic. Angie insisted Blaine would see him again.

If only she had known how right she was. Kurt Hummel wasn’t just some guy he saw in passing. Kurt had actually been at the bar that night dressed in that exact shirt but it wasn’t the first time Blaine had seen him.

Actually, Kurt went to his school. Not that any of Sam’s friends knew that—they all attended NYU. Blaine’s pretty sure they’re just tolerating him tagging along to their hangouts because of Sam. With the exception of Tina and Angie. They were the only ones who sought Blaine out—asked him to lunch. But even their friendship wasn’t solid. They had just met a few weeks ago when Sam started orientation.

A bunch of freshmen all desperate for friends in the big city. Who knows if it would last ‘til Thanksgiving. Now that school had officially started for them, they would surely get busy and Blaine’s feelings would be lost in the hustle and bustle of student life. The girls would forget about him and if he was lucky, Blaine would forget about Kurt.

Except, the real first time Blaine saw him was at NYADA. It was actually on the first day of school, four days before he saw Kurt’s silver shirt amongst the dancers at The Lion’s Den. He was using his space between class times to tour the school, trying to figure out where the rest of his classes for the week would be. Kurt had found him in the hallway where he had been studying the bulletin board filled with organizations you could join.

From chess to anime to superheroes, Blaine couldn’t choose which interests of his to pick. The only thing he knew he wanted to be involved in was Glee Club. Of which, NYADA had a ton. Luckily, Blaine already had his interests in a glee club narrowed down.

All of the brightly colored flyers had tabs to pull so you had the information to contact them about joining. He pulled the tab for the Apple’s Adams; the only acapella glee club on campus. Blaine had just finished his three years as the lead singer for the Dalton Academy Warblers and was pretty sure he’d get invited to join the Apples.

That’s when Kurt approached him though Blaine didn’t know his name at the time.

“The Apples?” he asked.

Blaine looked down shyly at the green tab in his hand. He met the man’s eyes and nodded. “I love to sing.”

“Me too,” he said, “I’ll see you at auditions, break a leg.”

That was it. No hello, no introductions, just a ‘good luck’ and a promise of seeing the most handsome man Blaine had ever seen again. If Blaine was going to daydream about someone at least he knew Kurt and he already had something in common.

He couldn’t wait for auditions.

The second time he saw Kurt Hummel wasn’t at the club either. This time Blaine was getting coffee. Standing in line debating if he should get another cronut or should he just stick to a medium drip and be on his way. Then he heard this voice coming from a table behind him.

Since their encounter the day before, Blaine had been replaying that melody of “I’ll see you at auditions.” It was getting him through his first week of school.

Friday’s auditions couldn’t come soon enough. Though, in reality, Blaine needed all the time he could get rehearing his audition song. The Lion’s Den karaoke nights these last two weeks had kept his vocals strong but Blaine wanted everything to sound perfect. He had more than just the judges to impress.

He quickly looked over his shoulder and noticed a girl sitting across from that blue-eyed man.

“Come on,” she was saying, “that’s not the Kurt Hummel I know!”

That’s how he learned his name. It was fitting. Sounded like a name that could very well be up in lights someday. Blaine hoped he was there to see it when it happened.

“Rach, it’s only the second day of classes please contain your crazy for another week at least.”

She huffed dramatically. “Kurt, you need to put yourself out there.”

The girl, Rach went on to talk about how she was auditioning for as many off-Broadway productions as she could this year. After all, “we’re almost graduates”. Kurt had scoffed at that remark, “we have another 2 years.”

It was obvious then Kurt was an upperclassman. A junior. Blaine had to stand out at auditions to even be a blip on his radar. He moved up in line, ordered his coffee, and mentally going through his closet for the perfect outfit. Surely tight pants and a bowtie were enough to get someone’s attention but what combination of patterns and colors would appeal to one Kurt Hummel?

When Blaine turned back around, coffee in hand, Kurt was already gone.

Okay, he thought, he already had some practice getting along with upperclassmen. Tina and Angie seemed to like him. Chad and Dante tolerated him—Blaine was cool because he liked college football. Bryant and Xavier were the toughest to crack. He wasn’t sure they’d ever really like him.

But Kurt went to NYADA. He liked to sing, obviously enjoyed glee club and theater. They had to have tons in common.

The third time Blaine saw Kurt was at auditions. He was sitting as one of the judges in the audience. This time dressed in a green army jacket and a tight black tank top underneath. Kurt had his feet up on the seat in front of him showing off his white Doc Martens.

In his wildest dreams, Blaine might’ve wished for Kurt to remember him, give him a teasing wink before he began to sing. Of course, nothing happened. Kurt barely looked his way at all when he walked onto the stage.

It was during the last few notes of Billy Joel’s “Just the Way You Are”, Blaine found out Kurt Hummel was taken. For a second, Blaine was glad the reason Kurt hadn’t given him a second look was that he was already in a relationship but in the next, he felt his heart sink to his stomach.

The man he had just seen Kurt kiss on the cheek was now talking to him. He was British. And taller than Blaine.

“I’m Adam,” he said, extending a hand, “we’ll let you know by Monday.”

Blaine can’t remember if he shook his hand before nodding and bolting out of the room.

Fuck fuck fuck.

There was no way he could stand to be in that group with Kurt and his lead singer, group founder, and British boyfriend.

That night Blaine had camped out on the living room couch, binge-watching the Star Wars movies knowing he had the day off tomorrow, and eating his heart out Sam found him covered in used tissues and Hershey kiss wrappers, with a half-eaten pint of Ben and Jerry’s cookie dough in his lap.

“Bad audition?” Sam asked.

He didn’t answer. So naturally, he just sat next to Blaine on the couch.

“At least tell me you’re watching them in order.”

Blaine shook his head.

“Fuck dude, it’s worst than I thought if you don’t care about the order!”

Sam reached over his roommate to grab the remote control and paused the movie. Even though both boys had seen them over and over again, they insisted on pausing it for conversation.

“Talk to me,” Sam said.

When Blaine couldn’t make the words come out of his mouth, Sam pulled his roommate to his side in a half hug, half cuddle. That’s all it takes for Blaine to start crying, murmuring about his perfect guy being taken.

“I made it all up in my head, Sam,” Blaine whined.

All that’s heard from their apartment is sobbing and gentle condolences from Sam, who is still confused as to why he’s consoling Blaine at all.

He may have only known about Kurt’s existence for four days but Blaine had been dreaming about him for years. Blaine Anderson had their whole life planned after their first interaction. His middle name was “too much, too soon.” When the Andersons wanted something, they just knew. The depths of his soul knew Kurt was his perfect man.

The fourth time Blaine saw Kurt Hummel was at the club. That Saturday in September after auditions Sam pulled Blaine out of bed to meet up with their friends.

“You’re friends,” Blaine had said, head buried under a pillow.

“OUR friends,” Sam corrected. “Tina loves hanging out with you.”

Sam took the pillow off his face and forced Blaine to sit up by pulling on his arms.

“Because she’s got a crush,” he sighed.

“She knows you’re gay.”

“Gay and depressed,” Blaine told him before pulling the pillow back over his face.

Sam ripped the pillow off and tossed it onto the floor this time and sat Blaine up again.

“Let’s go, you gotta get out of this room. It’s been forever since you’ve seen the world!”

“I was at school yesterday.”

Sam ignored him. “I picked your outfit.”

He held up his choice. The mismatched patterns are enough to get Blaine up and out of bed.

Thank god Sam only wanted to model clothes and someone else would be choosing them.

The rest of the night had been going fine until Blaine caught sight of Kurt. At first, he was captivated by him. Did Kurt Hummel always look like he stepped out of a painting? For a second, Blaine could forget that he wasn’t allowed to want him.

Then, Blaine caught sight of who Kurt was pulling behind him. It all came back full force like someone slapping him across the face.

They were laughing together, probably drunk off each other. What he wouldn’t give to know what he was like to have a man like Kurt look at him like he was currently staring at Adam.

All his earlier feelings, everything Sam hoped he’d drink away, came flowing back. Blaine downed his vodka coke, paid his tab, and asked the bartender to call him a cab.

That was that.

Blaine walked home alone, texting Sam when he got back to their apartment so his roommate wouldn’t worry too much. Then, he locked himself in the bathroom and sunk to the floor.

If this was a movie, Blaine knows there would be heartbreak music playing as a camera zoomed in on his breakdown. It’s not Kurt’s fault that Blaine can’t help but picture a happy ending with every crush he has. They just had so much potential to be a great love story.

Now it was clear that was a story never to be written. If Kurt doesn’t want to be with Blaine then he’s just not the one.

#klaine #klaine fanfic #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #not the one #my fics

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hopeshoodie · 3 years

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hi! what would the s2 lis be like when meeting mc's parents?

Arjun

Of all the LIs, I’d personally be most comfortable with Arjun and Noah meeting the parents, and I think Arjun would be better. Arjun’s a natural conversationalist, he knows where reasonable boundaries are and can sus out the touchy subjects based on people’s reactions. He would be extremely respectful and polite, but not in that stilted ‘I am uncomfortable’ way. He’s super comfortable jumping into discussions and just kind of makes himself at home. The most awkward he would get would be going in for a hug and then drawing back when he realizes MC’s dad wants a handshake.

Bobby

We know that Bobby gets really performative when he’s uncomfortable. And meeting MC’s parents is going to be very uncomfortable for him. First of all, he’s going to REFUSE to touch MC or even really acknowledge that they’re romantically involved. For some reason, having eyes of authority figures on him or too much attention turns his relationship from “future wife” to “my goofy bestie”. He’s going to go out of his way to be extra jokey and goofy, and the more people are unamused by him the harder he’s going to try to get people to laugh. I feel like that escalates from him making self-deprecating jokes that no one laughs at to him doing actual physical comedy like pretending to slip or drop things, all while MC buried her face in her hands in embarrassment. He’s also going to be super eager to serve- jumping up when the dishes need to be done, sticking his head in the kitchen and insisting he help cook (even if everyone else is in the living room), insisting he go out in the rain/snow to warm up other people’s cars if they’re planning on leaving soon. Like just generally doing Too Much and then when they leave he just deflates into a ball of shame and self-consciousness.

Carl

He’d be very polite, giving everyone a handshake and a smile, but he’s very very uncomfortable. No matter how welcoming or lovely MC’s family are, they’re still… New people, in a new place, a change in his routine. He’s going to be rather quiet (per usual) and only participate in conversation if he’s prompted to or if someone directs a question to him. MC is going to have to steer the conversation towards him a lot, like “Carl’s actually working on developing an app similar to that, right babe? Tell us about it!” If it’s a big family event like a reunion, Carl’s going to find the one (1) cool cousin and chill in the corner with them.

Elisa

I feel like she would be really out of sorts because she’s so used to using her clout and beauty to instantly charm people and others being taken aback by her bubbliness and hotness, but that’s not really a thing to MC’s parents/family. Like, she’s never been ‘someone else’s girlfriend’ because she’s always framed herself as the main character (and not gotten close enough to her partners to even out the scales in her mind). But suddenly she’s thrust into this really casual setting where no one knows or particularly cares about her status, and it’s jarring. She definitely shows up overdressed in something a little too revealing or edgy, and it takes her more than five dinners with MC’s family to really drop all pretense and be genuine with everyone.

Felix

He’s turning up his jokiness and argumentativeness to a 10 as a defense mechanism for feeling out of place, just like Bobby. Unlike Bobby, he gets discouraged when it doesn’t work and slowly lapses into silent pouting as more and more jokes flop or he gets corrected. It takes a little reassurance from MC, but with time his sweeter side comes out and MC’s parents walk away thinking “what a nice boy”.

Gary

I try not to have many thoughts about Gary, but I bet he’d either not want to meet the parents and be really dodgy if MC insists or be overfamiliar with them right off the bat, depending how into MC he is. If he’s hopelessly into MC, he’s going to be hugging everyone on first meeting, maybe call her mother ‘mom’ in that uncomfortable way that overconfident men do.

Henrik

Henrik’s probably the second best in this scenario because he’s so laid back, and he matches other people’s energy easily. He’ll just seamlessly fold into conversations, and laugh for the right amount of time at MC’s dad’s jokes. Henrik has that really warm, reassuring, kind presence that makes everyone feel at home and he’s used to being in big family units, so I think everyone would just be happy to have him around, regardless of how well they know him.

Rahim

My precious. Love of my life. He is so, so bad at meeting MC’s parents for the first time. First of all, he’s touching MC an uncomfortable amount. He’s pulling out her chair and guiding her into it before pushing it in, his hand’s on her knee, he’s holding her hand above the table, his arm is around her shoulders, his hand rests on her lower back. Super romantic, but like oh my GOD please do it in moderation and not in from of her parents omllll. He’s going to revert back to that awkward ‘I don’t really talk and if I do I’m going to stammer over my words and get really flustered when making a point’ thing. He shakes MC’s dad’s hand a little too hard and comes across as really high strung.

Kassam

I don’t think MC’s parents will like him at first because he comes off very disdainful. He doesn’t mean to, he just struggles to create topics of conversation that include mutual interest, and doesn’t really feign interest when her family is talking. He doesn’t particularly like little kids, so if MC has a niece or nephew he’s probably going to grimace when their pick their nose/get burped and throw up/make a mess of their food/say something weird. He thinks he’s being polite by declining to ramble about his own interests, but it comes across as him being rude because when you ask him a question he answers with 1-3 words.

Lucas

I would let my daughter or son marry Lucas, that’s how good he is at meeting MC’s family. He comes across so gentlemanly, worldly, refined, and confident. He’s making all the right moves to a traditionally minded parent (holding doors open, covering the check, fetching her coat, having perfect etiquette), he speaks eloquently and in turn, he asks questions and genuinely listens to the answers. He just seems like a perfect man. Until you know him too well or get too many beers in him, but he’s careful not to let that happen.

Marisol

If I brought Marisol home to my parents, I can picture them nodding and then saying “she seems very… Nice… But you know. A lot.” Marisol doesn’t know how to temper her own argumentativeness or assertiveness, and she has opinions on everything. So if MC’s family member says they recently saw a movie, she’ll go off on this rant about problematic themes within the movie for five minutes, not realizing that she’s putting everyone off of her. She tends to dominate the conversation and talk about her accomplishments with a bit more pride than it tasteful. But the way she looks at MC, with all the admiration and softness in the world, almost makes it worth it.

Noah

He’d be awesome meeting the parents, but even more awesome meeting the cousins/nieces/nephews. The more people there the more comfortable Noah is, because less attention is directly solely on him. But it’s very clear to everyone in the room the immense amount of respect and adoration he has for MC, and he’s extremely polite and agreeable. They probably assume he’s a bit bland upon the first few meetings, and maybe Noah doesn’t do much outside of a few well timed jokes to show them otherwise.

#final trash dump

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starsuh · 4 years

Text

if fwb!jaemin can’t have you for forever then you can at least get tattoos together

featuring. na jaemin x reader

genre. fluff | wholesome fwb!au | very slight angst undertones

wc. 1.2k

warnings. none.

soundtrack. tattoos togethers by lauv.

Spontaneity was one of the many characteristics of Na Jaemin that had drawn you to him. From when he had first suggested being friends with benefits after you had both gone through bad breakups last year to showing up at your doorstep earlier that day to go on a post-exams trip to the beach.

You still would’ve never expected this, however.

He grabbed your hand, giddily bouncing on the backs of his feet as he turned to you to say: "Let's get tattoos.”

The crowd flowed down the boardwalk the same way the Han River would always meet its banks, with you parting its waves as you stood with a shocked countenance. Fishermen and tourists alike grumbled as they bypassed your still figure, staring at the grinning man with a look of utter perplexity.

"Let's get what?" Your brows furrowed. You must've misheard him, surely. 'Let's get tacos' sounded more likely coming from the man who could stand in the face of any type of seriousness and laugh. Tattoos were meant to last forever, something that people with your type of friendship never had.

"Let's get tattoos together," the corners of his lips upturned, pulling your interlocked hands upwards. "So we can remember this."

Jaemin had an inner happiness so independent of the outside world that his smiles burst from within rather than of masked pretenses worn in obligation. Often times, you found yourself almost envying his nature until you found it directed towards you.

You could only laugh, allowing the boy to pull you beside him and continue your path across the boardwalk. You leaned forward to better assess his expression. “For real?”

With the afternoon light reflecting on his clear skin, he looked like molten gold and the promise of happier days. His eyes twinkling as he looked down at you looking up at him. His other hand reached up to pat your head to which you ducked away with a scoff, resuming your pace slightly behind him. You hid your smile with a cough.

He tugged you closer to the shore, away from the crowd. Kicking off your sandals, your feet dug into the warm embrace of the earth. Jaemin followed suit.

"Yeah," he said. "We could get matching crab tats to commemorate the time we thought we had syphilis."

"Oh my god, for the last time, crabs aren’t-“

"Anyways!" He clapped his hands. "It's a cute idea, right? You're welcome."

"Getting that permanently etched into my skin sounds like I'm asking for bad luck," you paused. "Or asking for actual crabs."

"Listen," Jaemin placed his hands on your shoulders, catching your gaze with a countenance so serious that it caught you off guard. "Whether it's ocean crabs, STI crabs, or crab tattoos, as long as it’s with you I’d be fine with any of them."

You could see the wind-stirred shores in his eyes. If you were braver, you thought, you’d submerge yourself upon their depths completely. All else but him would be but one blur, and you’d find yourself falling so deeply in love with the feeling that you’d choose to stay there, with the sands and waters, no matter what, even if such feelings weren’t meant to be had for the boy with shining eyes and a smile brighter than the sun.

But, it was only a joke. Such an outcome could only be made in jest, in the universe where the two of you existed on parallel lines, close but never intersecting. So you laughed. Laughed and shoved him away, tumbling onto heaps in the sand at the absurdity of it all. The lingering seriousness in his eyes, however, would remain in the back of your mind as you contemplated the unexpected request.

Like clockwork, he tucked himself behind you; legs beside your hips and arms around your waist. A soft kiss was placed against your neck, not out of want but out of simple reassurance. You supposed there were some things in life that would never numb or dull, his warmth one of them.

“Are you actually serious,” your brow raised. “About the tattoo thing?”

“Yeah,” he hid his face where your shoulder met your neck. “Why not get a tattoo with a person who means a lot me, you know?"

“But why?” The unsaid question rung in the sudden silence. ‘Why want permanence for something temporary?’ After all, the unspoken rules of being friends with benefits was that it would end when either, one, feelings got involved or two, when one finally found someone they wanted to be serious with.

“Because, I love…”

He sighed, turning you around so that you were facing him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, though he didn’t need to. Jaemin didn’t kiss like how books described and movies portrayed. He kissed like he was telling a story; the one of you and him, on a beach, far away from the rest of the world. It was the promise of a new reality. Of heartache and passion. Friends didn’t kiss like this, you thought, and a softer voice in the back of your head whispered back: nor do friends with benefits.

You hovered soundlessly against his lips afterwards, simply feeling each other's presence. This was intimacy�� the revelation that you could be the truest form of your whole being and not fear judgement or reprisal. He had always been that person to you, but you had never realized until now, with his hands tightly grasped around yours as if he feared that at any moment you might let go.

“I know that we might not last forever but you don’t understand how badly I want us to,” his secret was whispered against your lips and caught by the wind. “I think the thing I’m most afraid of is forgetting. Forgetting our memories and everything you've made me feel, because I don't think I understood what moments were worth making memories of until I met you."

You kissed him once more like a silent prayer to any god who could hear you that the next words to leave your lips wouldn’t end in regret. “Fuck it, let’s do it.”

He tilted his head in question. “What?”

“Let’s get tattoos.”

And that's how you found yourselves at the tattoo parlor three hours later, admiring the small bandages on both of your left wrists. You ended up getting the crab tattoos much to Jaemin’s happiness. They were smaller than a thumbnail and laid in the center of your upper wrists like an oath that you found yourself not minding.

Yours was done first and you loved it before you even saw it. It was simple and inked with black but you didn't need more than simple, not when someone as thoughtful and kind as Jaemin existed in your universe and wanted to stay in it.

When Jaemin’s was done, he had immediately barreled towards you and attacked you with a tight hug, twirling you around and off your feet. You laughed without care for volume or pitch as you playfully smacked his shoulder to put you down.

He leaned his forehead against yours with what could only be described as a love-struck grin (you didn’t understand how you hadn’t seen it sooner). “Hypothetically, what would you say if I asked you out on a proper date?”

You smiled and reconnected your hands with his. “As long as we don’t order crabs or get more tattoos on it, then I hypothetically might just say yes.”

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angst-fairygodmother · 4 years

Text

Work of Art (Diego Hargreeves x Reader, Kinktober

A/N: Rather than try and finish 2 more fics this week, as would be necessary to finish the original Kinktober list I posted, I played a little shuffle, and combined the two remaining ones, tossed some stuff, added new stuff. Because frankly I’m running out of steam[iness], though really, this is further than I ever expected to get on this project. Anyway...the final fic. Hope you enjoy. Word Count: 2440 Kinktober Prompts: bondage, knife-play, marking Rating: E(xplicit) Content Warnings: dom/sub (dom reader), bondage, knife-play, marking kink, pain kink, begging, teasing, praise kink, oral (both male and female receiving), biting, blood, overstimulation Cross-posted to AO3 here.

“Stop squirming so much,” you laughed, dropping the soft cotton rope to start over. “You’d think I was torturing you or something.”

“You’re sitting there, dressed like that, looking that gorgeous, and not letting me touch you,” Diego pointed out. “Find me the part that isn’t torture.”

You rolled your eyes, finally securing the last knot to keep Diego exactly where you wanted him, despite his continued wriggling.

“Unless you want actual torture, stop complaining.”

“Actual torture? You couldn’t if you tried.”

You raised a challenging eyebrow and smirked. He swallowed, instantly regretting his words.

“Well then, you wouldn’t mind if I just…” you walked over to the bedroom door, pausing dramatically in the doorway to look back at him. “Left you there then?”

“Wait, no, Y/N,” he called after you, voice straining with ill-concealed desperation. “Please. I promise I’ll behave.”

You waited a few beats longer, until you heard his faint whine, pleading for you, before you returned to the bedroom, satisfied that he knew your threat was serious. When you returned, he gave you his best penitent expression, which was admittedly, just a little bit ruined by the way his eyes trailed hungrily over your figure in the lacy, nearly see-through negligee you wore when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

“I could do whatever I want to you like this,” you observe off-handedly, still standing near the end of the bed, studying his bound form.

He wasn’t completely immobile, though you had originally tried to convince him to let you trap him in that way. But he was tied enough that he wouldn’t be going anywhere or able to pull his usual stunts to try to take control. And he looked so pretty: stretched out on the bed, hands bound above him with just enough slack to be able to twist and grab the thin wrought-iron rails supporting him, another thin set of ropes wrapped around his waist and secured to the underside of the bed. If you were being honest, it was a bit like the damsel tied to a railroad track in an old silent movie, but it was a look that worked for him, especially the way the blue ropes stood out against his skin.

“And you’d like that wouldn’t you,” you purred, taking a few steps closer. “You like to act tough but really, you’re just craving to be used and controlled. Isn’t that right baby?”

His cock twitched at your words and you couldn’t help but smirk, enjoying the visual evidence of your effect on him. He nodded in answer to your question, even as he strained against his binds. You stopped, waiting expectantly for him to use his words. It had taken a long time to convince him to let his guard down and be vulnerable like this, and you wanted to be sure that he was both capable and willing to bring it to a stop if he needed to.

“Yes,” he finally panted. “Please, use me, do whatever you want to me. Please, Y/N.”

“You look so good like this, like a work of art. What would you do if I decided I wanted to just sit here,” you plopped yourself down on a stool in the corner and folded one leg over your knee, leaning forward so you could still see his face. “And admire the art?”

He shook his head. “No, please, please touch me, hurt me, fuck me. Do anything, just please, do something.”

“You’re so right.” You stood again, sauntering to the edge of the bed and staring down into his face, gently running your nails down the side of his face, swiping them across his lips, drawing back harshly enough that they caught when he tried to suck a thumb into his mouth.

“My pretty boy.” He shivered bodily, as much as the ropes would allow, at your words, throwing his head back against the pillow.

“Do you like that? Being called pretty or being called mine.”

His face flushed and you repressed a giggle.

“Both,” he admitted shyly.

“Do you want me to keep doing it?”

“Please?”

“Of course, my pretty boy, all mine, all laid out and gorgeous for me.” A dangerous glint crossed your eyes as he tried to buck upward, a bead of pre-cum welling from your words alone.

“Maybe, I should make sure everyone knows that you’re mine. Make it clear that they can look,” you ran your fingertips down his sternum, “but they can’t touch. Would you like that?”

You suspected that by the end of the night, he would grow tired of your prompting. And yet, if he paid attention, he would see that through this, he had more control than he ever did otherwise.

“Yes, Y/N. Claim me.” There was a hint of frustration and desperation in his voice, and you decided not to push him any further before giving in.

Slowly, making sure his eyes were trained on you the whole time, not that he had dared to look away for a second so far, you straddled him, just above where the ropes crossed his mid-section, moving at a pace that made tectonic plates look like speedboats.

Settling comfortably, you leaned down, pressing your body against his, only the gauzy layer of your dress separating you. You let your breath ghost over him, teasing at the sensitive spots behind his ear and beneath his jaw. And then, sure that he wouldn’t be expecting it, you dipped your head lower and bit down harshly on the soft spot where throat met clavicle. Diego cried out, thrashing under you but unable to move, and just as importantly, not seeming like he was actually trying to get away from you. You felt the slightest hint of blood welling up and laved your tongue over the spot, soothing the worst of the sting but maintaining enough pressure to draw the blood toward the surface, ensuring a heavy, dark spot would be left behind.

“Mm,” you purred, pulling back to look at his face once more, the blissed out look on his face sending a jolt to your core. “You mark up so well for me Diego, but I don’t know if that little spot’s going to be enough.”

He gulped nervously. “Will you leave another?”

“I had a better idea, if you trust me…” you forced him to meet your gaze.

“Absolutely.” It was the firmest his voice had been since you began.

Hesitantly, you reached over to the nightstand, picking up one of the tiny precision blades that he used sometimes, though never in this way obviously. Palming it, you held it up for him to see. His eyes widened.

“I promise, I won’t hurt you, not really,” you explained, dropping any act or pretense. “Lightest touch only. Just enough to leave a mark that will heal over without a trace. Or I can put this away. It’s up to you.”

His eyes flickered back and forth from the knife to your face.

“Do it,” he said, voice gruff with desire. The muscles of your cunt clenched and fluttered at the sound, but you tried to ignore the feelings and focus on him. “...please?”

You kissed him passionately, trying to pour into it all of the thousand feelings coursing through you: how badly you wanted him, how much you loved him, how grateful you were that he trusted you like this.

You rocked backwards, letting your ass brush teasingly against his straining erection as you inspected your canvas.

“Now, my pretty boy,” you taunted, “where shall I make my mark. There are so many options…”

You trailed the flat of the little blade along the column of his throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob, dangerously close to the point. You traced outward, first over one side of his collarbone and then the other and then down over the taut muscles of his chest. He hissed as you turned the blade so that the needle-sharp point was against his flesh as you traced circles around his nipples with just enough pressure to create a sting. Finally, you stopped, poised just above his heart.

“Shall I write my name right here?” you asked, “label your heart and lay my claim to it.”

“It’s yours,” he countered, “already yours.”

“Well then, let’s make it official.”

You turned the blade again so that the full edge was pressed his exposed skin, biting your lip as you watched the little specks of red well up in the shape of your initials, tracing over them once, twice, thrice. He moaned louder with each pass, high and needy and threatening to overwhelm you, but he held himself perfectly still, one wrong move potentially spelling his end. You admired the endurance and discipline it required almost as much as you admired the patterns of pain you were tracing around the letters now, little hearts and swirling shapes. You followed behind the knife with open-mouthed kisses, as you wanted him to experience the sting and ache at the same time as you wanted to draw them away and spare him any suffering.

“Please,” he breathed. “Please, haven’t I been good?”

You looked up, a little startled at the question.

“Of course you’ve been good. You’ve been so good. Perfect, obedient, beautiful. You’ve been all those things Diego,” you assured him.

“Then please, I can’t take anymore. Please stop teasing me, no more games.”

You frowned. It wasn’t the safeword you had agreed to, but maybe…

“Please, don’t I deserve a reward?”

Oh.

“Of course you do baby. Do you want to cum now?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“No?” you startled.

“No. I don’t want to cum yet. Not until I taste you. I know you’re wet, I know you. I want that sweet little pussy all over my face.”

“Well who am I to refuse you whatever your heart desires?” You said, eyes sparkling with mirth before you rose up on your hands and knees, crawling over him until you were poised, hovering just out of reach of his tongue, which was already darting out to run across his lips.

His hands strained at the ropes, and you knew that if his hands were free, something you could have given him with a few flicks of the little knife if you wanted to, they would be gripping your hips with bruising strength and holding you down while he pleasured you. You closed your eyes, letting the image dance across your eyelids while you sank down.

Diego’s tongue flicked through your folds, tasting your gathered wetness. The groan that followed vibrated up through you, and it took all of your willpower, and the sharp bite of your nails into the palm of one hand, the other braced on the headboard, parallel to Diego’s own arms, not to break from that sensation alone. He sucked hard on your sensitive clit and you keened, grinding down on his face just as he moved his attention, tongue diving into you. You continued to move, hips bucking in rhythm with the thrust and flick of the wet muscle inside you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer and then in a primal scream as he flicked and sucked at your clit again, alternating back and forth faster than you could keep track of. He answered each sound you made with one of his own, groans and moans and hums mixing with his clever mouth to drive you over the edge, and then again without warning as he refused to let up.

“Oh fuck!” you cried out, “Fuck, Diego, yes! You make me feel so good baby!”

As a third orgasm tore through you, you pulled from him, trembling in the aftershocks as you tried to catch your breath.

“That was so good baby,” you panted. “You always know how to make me feel so good. But now it’s your turn.”

You slowly slunk down the bed, trailing kisses and little nips along his skin until you reached your destination. Looking up to check on him, and because you knew how much he loved the sight of you making eye-contact as you sucked him off, you wrapped your lips around his dick and slowly lowered your mouth onto it, taking him as deep as you could until he bumped at the back of your throat and tears stung at the corners of your eyes. Curling your hand around the base of him, the other bracing yourself against his thigh, you set an unstable pattern, working him rapidly, twisting your fingers and bobbing your head up and down only to suddenly slow, so that you were all but still, holding him in your mouth and the length of his cock with your tongue and then resuming your motions, trying to keep him on his toes. He bucked his hips as far as the ropes would allow him, trying to match your patterns with thrusts of his own, and crying out your name over and over.

“Oh, Y/N,” he moaned. “I’m so close. I’m so fucking close.”

You squeezed gently on the base of his cock at the same you hollowed out your cheeks, taking him as deep as you could and he came with a feral growl, his cum filling your mouth, hot and salty and you swallowed down as much of it as you could, fighting the urge to gag.

Slowly, you slid him out of your mouth and stood. Your own fluids were rapidly cooling on the insides of your thighs as you made your way shakily to the bathroom for some warm cloths to clean you both up.

As you returned to Diego’s side, you noticed the way he shivered and sweat. Concerned, you quickly slit the ropes, freeing him to curl in on himself.

“Diego, baby?” you asked softly, stroking the damp fabric over his skin soothingly. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, sounding hoarse and slightly out of breath. “That was just a lot…”

“Too much?”

“No. No,” he shook his head, reaching around to grab one of your hands in his. “It was perfect, I’m just…I’ll be fine.”

You bit your lip, not sure if you believed him and concerned that you’d gone too far, all in the name of showing him how amazing he was.

“How can I help?” you asked, wanting to follow his lead and speed his recovery.

“Just, hold me, please.”

“Let me finish cleaning us both up, and then I can definitely do that,” you said with a smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Diego.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

#Kinktober: Sinful Sundays #Diego Hargreeves x reader #Diego Hargreeves Kinktober #Kinktober 2020 #smut #I hate this title but I'm tired and I can't come up with a better one #it still counts as Sinful Sunday if not every timezone has hit Monday yet #right on the dot also still counts

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13uswntimagines · 4 years

Text

I Was Never Just a Rebound

Request: Lindsey helps reader get over her breakup with Christen pt.2- Sequal to I don’t want you to be a Rebound

Hey dudes, i hope you enjoy this! I know it’s kinda long, but I though a lot of the fallout stuff was necessary! To the people effected by college and the hurricane, i hope you’re doing well and that this can bring you a little bit of joy in some uncertain times. Hit me up with requests, questions or if you just wanna say Hi! I’m always open to chat.

You knew that national team camp was going to be a challenge after the breakup, but you hadn’t anticipated the shit show that had awaited you. Vlatko had defended his choice of sticking you in the same room as Tobin as “maintaining team unity” and “fixing team cohesion”, but you were convinced that he just had a sick sense of humor. At least you had Lindsey (and her Roommate Emily by default) to back you up.

The kiss hadn’t changed the dynamic between you and Lindsey all that much, to be honest. If anything, it made you closer. In the three months after the kiss you had still texted and FaceTimed several times a day, but now there was a different air of ease that surrounded each interaction. As though you were both more comfortable with where you stood with each other. You knew about her feelings for you, and she knew that you were still very not ready for a serious relationship. (Though you did find it slightly odd that all of your Tinder hookups had blond hair instead of brown.)

You stood in front of the mirror, placing the finishing touches on your outfit for tonight. Just because it was technically a Tinder one-night stand didn’t mean that the girl didn’t deserve to be wooed. You had been at camp for a total of 4 hours and you already couldn’t stand to be around them. The “happy couple” as they were called had a propensity for making out everywhere, no matter who was present.

Each touch felt like a knife in your already torn up heart, so you had resorted to the only therapist approved coping mechanisms that you could right now, rebound sex.

“Where are you getting all dressed up to go?” Tobin's voice broke you out of your thoughts as she wandered into the room that the two of you were supposed to be sharing, her eyebrows furrowing as she took in your button-down shirt, vest and slacks.

“Out.” You responded shortly, not even sparing her a glance.

“But we have practice tomorrow,” She continued. You could hear your exasperation. You had never been a goodie two shoes, but you had also never been one to blatantly break rules while at camp. You didn’t take many things seriously, but soccer was one of them.

“Your point,” You spat. She had lost the right to have an opinion on your behavior the moment she had even entertained the idea of sleeping with Christen.

“You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to,” She mumbled.

“I want to” You rolled your eyes, rolling up the sleeves of your shirt.

“I’m going to stay with Chris to make things less awkward” Tobin murmured, shifting foot to foot.

“Do whatever you want Tobin,” You said, your voice completely void of emotion, finally turning to face her.

“Just know that I didn’t ask Vlatko to put us together torture you alright,” She insisted tilting her head to the side and biting her lip. She hated how fucking awkward things had become between the two of you.

“No, you do that just fine all on your own,” You laughed humorlessly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her eyes snapped up to meet your own, shock evident in her features. Sure she had messed up, but she would never intentionally hurt you.

“It means that I get it. It means that I should have known that the entire team would be behind you on this one because I’m just the fuck up who was never good enough for her. Trust me, do I get it, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t shove it in my face every three seconds,” You rushed out, the voices of your teammates congratulating the happy couple like freshly squeezed lemon juice to you half-healed heart. It had burned and ached and brought back every insecurity that you had worked your whole career to get over.

“We weren’t, we were just…” She stumbled over her words and you rolled your eyes.

“Doing all of the things you couldn’t do for the months you were seeing each other behind my back,” You finished for her, sending her a smile that was too mocking to be friendly.

“It wasn’t months,” She huffed, settling into the edge of the bed that was meant to be hers.

“Then how long was it Tobin?” Venom leaked into your question. A dangerous calm taking over your features. You didn’t know the whole story, but you knew enough to know that it hadn’t been the first time.

“Since the night we won the World Cup,”

You recoiled from the admission as though you had been slapped.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” You laughed mirthlessly, closing your eyes in an attempt to control your emotions.

“You’re not and I’m sorry that…” She started, attempting to fix the obvious pain that she had just inflicted.

“Don’t. Don’t fucking apologize to me when I know that you’re not sorry. Just.” Your voice was cold, colder than she had ever heard it. “Just-. Just forget it alright.” You finished, shaking your head and returning your attention to finding your shoes so you could get the fuck out of this room.

“We can’t just pretend like it never happened” she sniffled wetly.

“We’re not pretending anything. Well, that’s a lie. We” you gestured between the two of you “are going to pretend that we were never friends and you were going to leave me the fuck alone”

“You can’t just erase history Y/n. I know you know that better than anyone” She pleaded. She had been your best friend since you were in diapers. You had been through it all together, things like that couldn’t just disappear, could they?

“Don’t fucking talk to me about my past Tobin” You growled, advancing on the woman.

“I’m so…” She started, holding her hands up as if to pacify you.

“I told you to stop apologizing,” You snapped. You knew the apology was out of pity and not because they felt bad about what had happened. they just felt bad that they had been caught. You often wondered how long they would have let you believe that she was still in love with you. How would they have broken the news?

“I don’t know what you want me to say to you. I’m not going to say I regret it because that would mean that I regret finally getting the love of my life. I know that what we did was wrong but,” she started, frustration leaking into her tone. She didn’t want to hurt you, but she would never say that wished she didn’t have Christen.

“But what Tobin? You never meant to hurt me? How many times did you watch me kiss her knowing that you were the one that she wanted? How many times did you reassure me that she loved me while you knew that it was you who she was dreaming of? How many times did you look at that ring on her finger and laugh because you knew she was never even entertaining the idea of walking down that aisle to meet me.” your chest was heaving by the end of your rant, your cheeks red with exertion. Tobin’s mouth remained shut, and her eyes stayed trained on the floor. “That’s what I thought. You know my past and you knew exactly what you were going to do to me each time you hooked up with each other. So let’s just drop the fucking pretense that you actually give a fuck about anyone but yourselves.” You said lowly.

“I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say. I don’t know how to fix it,” She exploded, her voice thick with emotion, running her hands ran through her hair, her typically chill demeanor nowhere to be found. You felt guilty at the small shiver of satisfaction that rolled through you, as she experienced a small percentage of the pain you were feeling. But this was her bed to lie in and not yours. At least she would have Christen to keep her warm.

“That’s the thing. You don’t say anything and you stop trying to fix it. You sack up and accept the guilt and leave me the fuck alone,” Your voice was soft but dangerous. Like the edge of a razor running on skin. Your tone nothing your best friend had ever heard before.

“You’re my best friend,” She pleaded, the tears rolling down her cheeks, and you resisted the urge to comfort her.

“No. I’m a fellow forward on the same team as you. That’s it. I’m your colleague who you only talk to on the pitch,” you said, your voice wavering. It was bad enough that you had lost Christen but nearly unbearable that she was the one you had lost her to.

“Y/n…” She started, only to be cut off by a soft knock at the door, and you thanked your lucky stars. You weren’t sure if you could remain strong through the rest of that. You stumbled over to the door, and flung it open, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you saw the woman on the other side.

“Am I interrupting something?” Lindsey asked, taking in Tobin’s red-rimmed eyes and your agitated expression. She kept her face neutral at your outfit, even though you did look incredibly stunning all dressed up, she still preferred you in your old sweats cuddled up ready to watch a movie.

“No, I was just leaving,” You hummed, your features instantly brightening at her appearance.“I’ll text you later?. I heard Emily say something about a movie night?”You smile, waiting for her to nod before kissing her forehead and heading towards the door.

“For sure babe,” she smiled back, kissing your cheek in return. You send her a wink before exiting the room, completely missing Tobin’s eyebrows shooting up into her hairline.

“She hates me,” Tobin sniffed as she watched you go, and Lindsey frowned. More so at the fact that you were clearly going for a tinder hookup instead of hanging out with her than anything else. She got that you were hurt, but watching you rebuild the wall around your heart was scary.

While the two of you were emotionally more connected than ever before, the likelihood of you stepping into a serious relationship seemed to be oceans away.

“Well, she has a pretty good reason to,” Lindsey rolled her eyes and sat down on the bed next to Tobin’s distraught form, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder.

“We didn’t mean to hurt her,” Tobin whined. Why wouldn’t anyone listen to them when they said it. They loved you and hurting you was the last thing in their mind. They just didn’t know how to be honest with you about the situation. At least you didn’t run away to the UK this time.

“Yeah, I would start by never ever saying that again,” Lindsey said lowly. She knew how much you hated when they said that. It always felt like they were diminishing the amount of devastation you felt at their betrayal. As though there was no way to avoid their happiness coming at the cost of your own.

“What else are we supposed to say? We love each other and don’t regret that we finally got together,” Tobin grumbled exasperatedly. She didn’t know how to fix this, and you weren’t giving her any clues.

“You just regret that you lied and destroyed your best friend in the process?” Lindsey shrugged sarcastically.

“Exactly! Wait, That came out wrong,” Tobin blushed at the admission and Lindsey’s raised eyebrows.

“Just give her some time, and maybe start by keeping the PDA to yourself,” Lindsey said calmly, patting Tobin’s knee. To be honest, the preath kissing was even beginning to wear on her, so she could only imagine how you felt about it. She had asked, but you always clammed up.

“We’re not going to stop being a couple to cushion her feelings,” Tobin huffed crossings her arms like a petulant child. That wasn’t fair to them either.

“I’m not asking you to, but it might be more courteous for the two of you not have a fucking make out session while she’s sitting at the same table,” Lindsey mumbled gently. She hated how quiet you got, how much you retreated into yourself when the two women were around. She just wished that she could relieve your pain (what she didn’t know was that she already did).

“I’m going to go talk to Chris, just… let me know that she made it to movie night in one piece alright?” Tobin asked hesitantly, and Lindsey gave her a tiny nod. Protective instincts were hard to break, and Tobin had been your protector for a long time. Hell, you had moved in with her after your parents kicked you out when they caught you making out with your first girlfriend in 9th grade. Her mom was more nurturing to you than your own had ever been, and she was the older sibling that you never had.

Tobin made her way to the door, pausing as she opened it. “Hey Linds, take care of her, ok?” She asked softly, staring at the floor. You were guarded and hard to handle, but maybe Lindsey would be able to break through those walls.

“I will,” Lindsey nodded solemnly, and she would.

*****

You’d say that camp was going swimmingly. Vlatko had let you start in the friendly against England, and you scored 3 goals so you were super pumped. It also helped that the English national team was always down for some flirting. So here you were, flirting with Leah Williamson.

Emily watched you win disdain from the bench, while Lindsey simply wore an amused expression. Leah and Jordan were in a committed relationship, and it was fun to watch you lay on the moves.

“Are you seriously going to sit here and watch her hit on anything with legs?” Emily asked scrunching up her nose, as you swapped jerseys with Leah.

“We’re not dating, and it’s her apparently ‘therapist approved coping mechanism’ or whatever,” Lindsey shrugged, a bemused smile on her lips, as Leah and Jordan kissed your cheeks. You had had many conversations with the woman about your ‘coping’, and it seemed that while you didn’t want Lindsey to be your rebound, you had no problems having others fill that role. Somehow you always ended up back in her bed ready to cuddle.

“Please, you guys have basically been in a relationship since her breakup with Chris, the only difference is that she hooks up with Tinder dates instead of hooking up with you” Emily snorted, remembering the many times she had watched you leave with a tinder date you never returned with. All of the women had a very interesting resemblance to a certain midfielder you both knew rather than a green-eyed forward.

“We’re not dating,” Lindsey rolled her eyes for the millionth time. Did she like your coping mechanism? No. But she preferred it over the self-deprecating tendencies that have plagued you the first few months after the split. You were a shell of yourself, determined to wear your mental anguish as physical marks on your skin. It had torn her apart to see you like that, and she was proud that you had picked yourself up the way you did. That you allowed her to help you help yourself.

“No, you guys just call each other nonstop, go on adorable dates and sleep all cuddled up in the same bed,” Emily smirked at the woman. How could two people be so deep in denial? You of your feelings and Lindsey of the status of your relationship. You loved her, anyone with eyes could see that, and Emily often wondered if you were just flaunting your hookup as a bratty way to try and get Lindsey to finally make a claim.

“She’s not ready for a relationship, and we’re not that close,” Lindsey snapped, tired of this conversation. You weren’t ready to make that commitment and she wasn’t going to force you. You were best friends, and best friends did things like cuddle and call each other and watch movies.

“You guys have always been emotionally close,” Christen said, staring at the way you were holding Leah’s hand to your chest, smiling what her and Tobin had dubbed the fan smile because it always got people to flock towards you. Her breathing caught when you looked Lindsey’s way, waving at the woman and sending her your real smile. The smile you always saved for Christen. She sat on the bench next to the two women, finally tearing her eyes away from you.“I was always jealous of the way you two clicked from the moment you met,” She murmured, and Lindsey tensed at her presence.

“Like you clicked with Tobin? Oh, yeah that’s right, we’re not fucking behind everyone’s back,” The blond midfielder scoffed. She had seen the destruction that Christen had left behind. Had seen how much it killed you when the team accepted Preath with open arms. Someone here had to be on your side, and she would back you up all the way.

“Be nice Linds,” Tobin scolded as she sat on Christen’s other side, sending Lindsey a frown. She didn’t like the rift that had formed between all of you.

“It’s alright,” Christen murmured, placing a hand on Tobin’s knee. “I know that you’ll never believe me but my greatest regret about this whole thing is that she got hurt in the process,” She finished softly, shaking her head. She knew that you wouldn’t believe her now, but maybe she could get through to the new women who had stolen your heart. Perhaps one day you would listen to her and give her the forgiveness she was after.

“She’s right kid. Chris and her were growing apart, and she was growing closer to you,” Tobin added carefully, remembering all of the calls where Christen had called about your distraction. About how you were always talking about team blond. She knew you loved Chris, but there was always some undeniable chemistry between you and Lindsey.

“I just-, we made a mistake, but I’m glad that she’s got you to help her,” Christen finished softly, a shy smile making its way across her face when you again glanced towards the bench to see if Lindsey was watching you (and when you frowned when she wasn’t). She would always miss how much you craved the attention of the people you loved, almost like a puppy would.

“We’re not in a relationship because she doesn’t want me to be her rebound from you. I’m like 90% sure she’s not over you.” Lindsey spat.

“That’s why all her tinder hookups are all blonds and not brunettes right?” Emily smirked. It was a checkmate. The ace in the hole if you will. Lindsey could deny her feelings for you all she wanted and explain away all of the evidence, but she couldn’t explain that. She couldn’t deny that you were attracted to her when all of the girls you picked up looked like her.

“Shut up guys,” Lindsey grumbled, refusing to concede defeat. Refusing to admit the truth. Christen watched her for a moment, running a hand through her hair. You were running, too afraid to be hurt. She knew that. It’s what you did best.

“Just don’t let her push you away.” She whispered. It was the only piece of advice she could offer. She wanted you to find your happiness again, and fuckgirl Y/n wasn’t it.

“I won’t.” Lindsey nodded, grabbing Christen’s hand and squeezing it. She wouldn’t let you run forever.

*****

Little did she know just how stubborn you could be. It had been a year of almost dating. A year of dancing around the subject, only for you to run away again. Your behavior had become less erratic. You transferred from Utah to Portland, deciding that having Sonnett and Lindsey were a fair trade for having to deal with Tobin’s puppy eyes.

You hadn’t forgiven her, not yet, but you were making your way there. At least you weren’t blatantly ignoring her anymore.

In Lindsey’s mind, the greatest victory was that you spent less time getting into other people’s pants and more time hanging out with her. When you transferred to Portland, Lindsey had welcomed you with open arms, even allowing you to share an apartment with her (with the excuse of Mark being unable to find you one of your own). So here you were, in a club celebrating another NWSL championship.

“You do realize that you’re going to have to be the one to make the first move right?” Emily nudged Lindsey’s shoulder as they watched you dance with a group of girls from the bar. They giggled as you casually grabbed a hand that had tried to work its way up your shirt, placed a kiss on the knuckle, and continued dancing with the girl. They couldn’t deny that you were a smooth operator.

“What if she’s not ready?” Lindsey asked biting her lip, sighing as you grabbed another hand that was trying to get under your shirt.

“It’s been a year,” Emily rolled her eyes. God, she had never met two more oblivious people in her entire life.

“Yeah and she hasn’t hooked up with anyone for like 6 months,” Tobin added, taking a sip of her beer.

“Plus the two of you have practically been living together,” Emily finished, high fiving Tobin. What it would take to get the two of you together, she didn’t know. But pointing out the obvious couldn’t hurt.

“It’s just cause she got traded to Portland,” Lindsey shrugged off the implication.

“She turned down Marks offer to set her up in a loft,” Tobin reminded her, distinctly remembering Marks’ complaints that you had refused his offer to get you a loft in the building she was living in. Your eyes met Lindsey’s from across the room, and you sent her a blinding smile that was reserved only for her and a wink.

“I think it’s safe to say that she’s waiting for you to make the first move,” Emily laughed, patting Lindsey on the back in encouragement. The only thing missing from your relationship with her was the label. And from the way you shied away from labels, it was safe to say that you weren’t going to be the one asking Lindsey out.

Lindsey let out a growl when the girl that you were dancing with yet again tried to feel your abs. You frowned at the insistent hand. How could the girl not get the hint? She marched in your direction, tapping the girl on the shoulder.

“Mind if I cut in,” she spat, the girl taking a step back in shock. Lindsey took the opportunity to slip in front of you, pulling your hands to her waist.

“Linds?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowing, pulling her close to you so you could talk to her over the loud music of the clip.

“I’m in love with you, but I think you know that, and I think that you’re in love with me too,” She said firmly, her blue eyes staring into your own as she connected your foreheads.

“I don’t want you to be a rebound,” you whispered, your breath fanning across her lips. Your cheeks flushed at the intimacy of the situation. You loved Lindsey, but another relationship scared you.

“You don’t spend hours on the phone with your rebound. You don’t move to a different city to be closer to them. You don’t share the connection That we do. I’m so much more than a rebound and you know it. You just have to take that leap,”

She finished breathlessly, and just like the night of your breakup you leaned up and placed a gentle kiss in her lips. And just like the first time, your lips fit together like they were made for each other, moving in harmony together.

Her tongue probed your bottom lip and allowed her to deepen the kiss. Her fingers tangled in the baby hairs at the lack of your neck, and your hands wrapped around her Lower back to pull her closer to you. You reluctantly pulled away when air became an issue, keeping your eyes closed as your rested your foreheads together, bumping her nose with your own.

“Go on a date with me?” She asked, and your eyes snapped open to meet hers.

“Mmm, I wouldn’t like anything more,” You smiled, pecking her lips again. You knew Lindsey would be so much more than a rebound. She would be the love of your life.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #lindsey horan imagine #lindsey horan x reader

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