#i almost got thrown out of class a few times in middle school bc i brought whole watercolor paint and cups there to draw | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

Text

𝙅𝙀𝘼𝙇𝙊𝙐𝙎𝙔 | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 (18+)

∘ request(s):

Ooh maybe edgy!karl teaching skateboarding :o. I’m also in uni and I remember my first frat party was quite interesting 😂 -🦋

ahhhh part four of your edgy karl was soooo good!!! could i get jealous karl? maybe someone else is hitting on the reader at a party

please please please more edgy!karl if u can. like maybe where him and reader get into a fight because he gets like jealous and he just shows the reader who they belong to fjsjjsj thankyouuu !! 🤍🪐 x

∘ pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader

∘ warnings: nsfw (18+ minors dni), smut, light bdsm, jealous, somewhat toxic behavior, crude language, frat boys (again), mentions of masterbation, biting, domination, spanking

∘ word count: ~3200

∘ links: 𐐪 ao3 𐑂 𐐪 previous part 𐑂 𐐪 submit an edgy!karl edit 𐑂

a/n: not me having to watch daddy tony hawk tutorials for this bc I'm uncultured and only skateboarded for like three months when I was 14 :)))

thank you for all the requests (especially 🦋 ily). if any of you have ideas for what I should call this series, lemme know! as always, have a great week and happy reading :)

♡ ᵍᵉⁿᵉ

The parking lot behind the campus union was barren. The morning dew in the air left a sweet smell to combine with Karl’s cologne as he walked beside you, his arm bumping yours as he listened to you nervously ramble on about one of your classes. You weren’t sure why, but the thought of falling on your ass in front of Karl terrified you more than anything. This man had degraded you and made you completely submit to him in the past, yet you were worried that not being able to master his ~craft~ would ruin his image of you.

He dropped his skateboard, his feet settling on it lazily as he rolled beside you. You watched quietly as he stopped, kicking his foot down on the front of his board so it popped into his hand. “You won’t fall. I’ve got you,” he joshed, tugging on your hand so you were in front of him.

He set the board down, his hands going to your hips as you stepped on it. His fingers dipped under the hem of your sweatshirt, your skin lighting up at his touch as if his hands belonged on you. “You look like an anemic Victorian boy. I don’t trust you as a safety net,” you grumbled, your hands covering his. You knew, roughly, how to skate from a middle school phase you had. Karl only promised to teach you a few tricks, but to say you were rusty would be an understatement.

He chuckled darkly, nudging you closer to the middle of the board and peering over your shoulder to look at your stance. “I’ve fucked you without your feet touching the floor. I think I can catch you before you hit the ground, baby,” he chided, making you scoff.

Your cheeks flushed with heat at his words. “Dirty, dirty boy,” you mumbled. He instructed you on how to kick the board up to where you needed it. His words were simple and almost plain like he knew you could figure it out. You attempted to push the board up, but crashed into Karl’s arms, your back thumping against his chest.

He giggled slightly as he straightened you up, setting you back on the board as his foot kept it from rolling out from under you. His hands hovered over your hips again as he moved his foot, leaving you to balance on your own. “If you fall correctly, people will just think you were giving really good head,” he jested. You shoved his arms away at his words as he laughed at his own joke.

You attempted a few more times and nearly had it down before Karl’s hands were on your hips again, giving you further instructions. You fought not to smile as his breath ghosted against your neck. You knew he cared about teaching you something that---on paper---was seemingly so easy, but his vulgar teasing was beginning to swarm your head. With his next steps set as your goal as well as the feeling of his hold on you, you kicked the board up and attempted to jump with it. While your brain was up to speed, your feet weren’t, sending the board out from beneath you and you to fall into its place.

Karl snorted as choked back a laugh at you scrapping your hands on the concrete. “Come on, don’t be a pussy. Try again,” he chided, voice uneven and laced with whatever dark humor he was getting from watching you do this.

You rolled your eyes playfully, letting him tug you up in front of him. As you wobbled on the board once again, you let his hands dig into your sides. Obviously, it seemed that he actually was worried about dropping you again, despite the fact that he was holding back some kind of sick laugh. “You would be great at teaching a kid how to ride a bike,” you quipped, the fact that he called you a pussy seeping into your mind.

You gasped slightly as you slipped again, this time Karl’s arms wrapping around you tightly, pressing your body against his. “Awe, you want me to put a baby in you, pet?” He jeered with his lips near your ear. You shrugged out of his grip, breaking up your indecent thoughts at his comment.

You could feel the heat rising to your ears as you balanced on his skateboard again. “Stop, you perv,” you deflected, hoping he couldn’t tell how hard you were having to bite back a smirk.

After your skateboarding escapades, you sat typing away at your computer, Karl occasionally looking over his phone to peer at you. His legs were thrown lazily on either side of you as he stretched out on his pillows.

An alarm went off on Karl’s phone, startling you in the process. He fought against smirking at your surprise as he sat up, crawling over to you. “Okay, I gave you two hours,” he stated, leaning forward to press his lips against yours and gently close your computer. The taste of him on your tongue was like a drug for you, leaving you constantly wanting more.

You smirked into his kiss as your brain finally caught up with you. “I hope that document saved, asshole,” you groaned, pushing him back into his pillows as he chuckled at you. His fingers dragged up the length of your thighs, squeezing the flesh in his hands as you straddled him. “Fucking weirdo, timing me. Who are you, my dad?” You teased, pressing a kiss to his neck and digging your fingers into his hair.

He moaned lowly, grinding against you. “Oh fuck yeah. Call me daddy,” he cantered.

“No,” you answered simply. You sat up, reaching over to his top drawer in search of protection, but running your fingers over a lacy garment instead. Your brows knitted together as your gaze shot to the drawer, your underpants dangling from your finger. Karl tucked his hands behind his head, looking up at you nonchalantly as your mind flashed with memories of your time in the bathroom.

Before you had the opportunity to ask him what he was still doing with them, his door popped open to reveal one of Karl’s roommates, his name beginning with a D but slipping your mind. “What are you guys doing in here?” He asked with a rather dopey smile, gesturing to Karl still between your legs. “Everyone’s downstairs, come on.” You and Karl shared a look as he left.

You leaned back down to him, kissing him briefly before pressing your lips to his neck again. “Wanna come over instead?” You suggested softly, your lips ghosting over his ear.

Karl loped down the stairs in front of you, a heavy layer of smoke hanging in the air above your heads. A mass of people crammed themselves together, finding solace in each other after the long week. If you weren’t so hung up on getting into Karl’s pants, you might have considered joining them.

Before the two of you could reach the door, someone called out for Karl. Their voice boomed over the loudness of the music, making Karl wince slightly. His face flattened into a frown as “Todd” waved at the two of you. Karl took a few slugging steps to stand close enough to Todd’s group that they wouldn’t have to yell at each other. You settled your hand on Karl’s hip as you wrapped your hand around his waist, leaning against him. Todd’s eyes traced over you.

He wet his lips. “You guys leaving already?” He asked, leaning back in his chair and accepting the joint offered to him. From an outsider’s perspective, he looked like the king of the castle. Luckily, you knew better. “Come on, play a game with us!” He suggested, patting the empty spot beside him. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you could tell Karl was rolling his eyes. “I got a seat warmed up for you, baby girl,” he nodded towards you.

You perked an eyebrow in his direction and Karl slipped his hand into yours nonchalantly. “Thanks, but no,” Karl stated.

“Come on, Karl. Don’t make me pull pin.” At Todd’s words, Karl groaned reluctantly, the sound barely audible. You furrowed your brows at him. “Fifteen minutes. We were gonna play Never Have I Ever.”

You leaned towards Karl. “What’s pulling pin?” You mumbled.

“Flexing rank,” he grunted back. He tugged you with him to join the group. Before you could sit down, Todd pulled you into the spot beside him. You laughed nervously, watching as Karl’s features darkened as he sat across from the two of you. Todd handed you a drink, which you took but avoided sipping out of.

A boy beside Karl piped up. “Okay, so never have I ever graduated high school. My degree is literally fake.” The boy smiled before taking a drink, making you giggle slightly. Todd draped his arm around the back of the couch where you were sitting. He wasn’t touching you exactly but every ounce of his being was getting under Karl’s skin.

Todd smugly shook his head. “No, Zeke. Those aren’t the rules. You have to say something that’s not true about you. Like…” he trailed off slightly, his gaze settling on you before his mouth twisted into a smirk. “Never have I ever slashed someone’s tires.”

You humored him with a subtle smile as if to ask if he was serious. He gestured towards Karl, who took a drink. You bit back a grin. “Well, never have I ever masturbated to a girl my roommate’s sleeping with,” Karl retaliated. Your eyes grew wide, suddenly happy to watch the event unfold before you.

Todd took a drink after glaring at Karl. He leaned closer to you, this time his arm dropped to pull you against his side. “Do you wanna take a turn?” You shook your head, flashing your eyes to Karl before looping your fingers with Todd’s. Karl chewed the inside of his cheek, looking like he was holding back another laugh. “Alright, I’ll go.” Todd brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your palm. “Ah, I know. Never have I ever betrayed the secret oath of the frat and called the police.”

Karl took another sip, his eyes on you. “Yeah, because never have I ever set the house on fire trying to light a bong,” he answered, making you snort.

You let your free hand settle on Todd’s knee. “Awe, I’d light your bong for you,” you chided, making Todd laugh as he took a drink.

“I bet you could do a lot for me, Princess,” he flirted, his lips nearing your ear. You raised your eyebrows in Karl’s direction, who was sitting with his chin in his hand. His expression was darkly entertained as you flirted with Todd. “Speaking of,” Todd looked to Karl again. “Never have I ever fucked someone on my roommate’s bed,” he teased, tucking his nose in the crook of your neck.

Karl smirked. “You’re right, you probably haven’t,” he stated simply, downing the rest of his drink. Todd tensed slightly beside you. Karl stood, ruffling the hair of one of the other Brothers that were in the group before holding his hand out for you to take. As the two of you left, you heard one of the guys whistle and say something about never having peed in a pool before.

As the two of you left the house, you walked in time with Karl’s heavy steps, swinging your entwined hands as if you were completely oblivious. “I can’t believe I made you jealous,” you taunted. You could practically see the steam rolling off his shoulders as he opened the passenger car door for you. Before you could slip into the seat, Karl’s hand gripped the back of your neck, bringing you to press your lips roughly against his. He pinned you between him and the cool metal of the car as the taste of beer spread across your tongue.

His fingers dug into your hips, his other hand tightening around your throat. The coolness of his tongue ring was a welcomed sensation as you attempted to find friction against his hips. Your fingers moved to close around his wrist as he pulled away, leaving you gasping for air. His face was expressionless as his gaze danced from your lips to your eyes. “I’m going to fuckin’ ruin you for the way you acted,” he ribbed, stepping away from you.

You nearly slid down the side of the car at his words. “Okay,” you whispered, heat rising to your cheeks and ultimately to your core.

Karl’s calm exterior followed you until you finally got your apartment door open. Karl pinned you against the wood of your bedroom door, reaching to twist the lock as his lips began to commandeer your own. His hands dragged up your thighs beneath your skirt, squeezing at the flesh roughly. He yanked your shirt off, grinding his hips up and against yours as his teeth moved to nip at the skin of your neck before returning to badger your lips.

The taste of beer on his lips blended with your flavored chapstick as your tongue slipped into his mouth. In a mess of tugging and biting each other, your body melted into his rough grasp. You wanted whatever repercussions his twisted mind could come up with. You wanted him to do whatever he wanted to you. You fought against diving your hands into his jeans to beg him to continue, but he broke away from you as you fought to catch your breath.

Your lips were buzzing as the feeling of him still lingered. He brought his hand up to your jaw, tipping your chin up to him. “Fucking slut,” the devil’s grin painted across his face before he continued, pressing his lips against yours once more, his grin dragging your bottom lip between his teeth. “You act like I don’t fucking own you,” he nearly growled, his face hovering over yours as his hand squeezed your throat. You moaned quietly as he regulated your breathing with his hand. You wanted to drink in his dark, commanding appearance.

He pushed you back on the bed, making you instinctively crawl up towards the pillows. He smirked slightly, undoing his belt and slipping it into his hands. He put the garment on your bedside table. After tugging his shirt off, he was on top of you again, pushing you into the pillows and the fluffy comforter. Karl’s lips seared yours, showing you how much command he had over your body. He ground his hips against yours, the fabric of his jeans digging into you to elicit a moan echo from your mouth. You could feel his erection hardening against your leg, the tension deep within you tightening at the prospect of what he was going to do to you.

His fingers tugged at your skirt, gripping the material in his fist and dragging it down your body as if it was nothing. He flipped you, your elbows crowding the pillows as you felt him sit on your back, snapping the belt in his hands again. You let out a short breath as Karl’s nails raked up your back before his fingers dipped in your hair, tugging your head back to look at him. “I want you to scream my name tonight,” he groaned. You obliged as he dropped his grip on you.

He pulled your wrists between the bars of your headboard before binding you to the metal with his belt, yanking the leather to sinch against your skin. He dropped his head to press his lips against your shoulder, a tender nod of affection you knew would be the last. You leaned on your side to watch him sit back on his knees to unbutton his jeans. “Be gentle,” you leered, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth to fight your grin again as you watched him spit into his hand and stroke himself in preparation.

He chuckled. “I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart,” he murmured darkly through a smirk. He pulled your hips up and against his own, forcing your face into the mattress. Your hands tightened around the metal bars, as he angled himself at your entrance before driving himself into with an act of force you knew you deserved. A moan of his name slipped past your lips as his fingers dug into your hips, thrusting into you to drive himself deeper into you. “That’s right. I want the neighbors to know who’s fucking you,” he groaned, snapping his hips against yours.

Moans of pure bliss escaped your lips as his head neared yours. Karl used your hips as leverage for his unwavering pace, leaving you a mess of pleasure beneath him. His lips found their way to your neck as he nipped against the sensitive skin. You wanted him to mark you, to claim you, and he deserved to. His hand from your hair became wrapped around your throat as he began to reach his peak.

His hand slapped your ass with such force you knew there was a handprint, but you were too overwhelmed with the noises escaping his lips and your climax threatened to disobey your control to be concerned with the sting. If anything it threatened to push you over the edge. Your hands pulled against the leather of his belt as he pounded into you.

Your toes began to curl as he leaned over you, his breath fanning against your shoulder as you bit back heavy moans of pleasure. Karl’s hand was knotted in your hair again, his other fisting the sheets beside you. “Who’s making you feel this good? Huh?” You moaned out his name as he punctuated his sentence with the thrusts of his hips. “That’s right, you fucking slut.” You tightened around him, your orgasm sweeping over you with an element of shock.

You could practically hear Karl’s smirk as he moaned at the sight of you coming undone beneath him. He continued to ride you, finishing rather abruptly. He pressed his lips between your shoulder blades before loosening the belt around your wrists. Your back popped as you were finally able to move freely. He bit back a chuckle as you gingerly snuggled beneath the covers beside him. You slipped your hand across his torso, hugging his side against your chest as he rested an arm behind your head.

As you laid your head on his chest, his heartbeat began to steady, his fingers lightly brushing against your skin. “I’d rather eat my own feet than sleep with Todd, you know,” you croaked, realizing just how much your voice was weakening, breaking the silence between the two of you.

Karl chuckled softly. “Me too,” he commented, making you smile slightly. “I’m actually…” he paused slightly before continuing as if searching for what he wanted to say exactly. “I’m actually not sleeping with anyone else.”

You couldn’t fight the smile spreading across your face. “I’m not either.” You hugged him tighter, letting his fingers twirl into your hair. “I’m good with you.”

“I’m good with you, too,” he mirrored, a smirk evident in his voice as his other hand traced over the red marks on your wrists from his belt.

Tags:

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @xxtakechancesxx

#karl jacobs x you #karl jacobs smut #karl jacobs x reader #edgy!karl #edgy!karl jacobs #edgy aesthetic #eboy #🦋 anon #mcyt x reader #mcyt smut #karl jacobs imagine

602 notes · View notes

adorerdraco · 4 years

Text

I’m Here ✧ Draco x Reader

Request: Hi, so I’m not sure if you’re taking these kinds of fics for Draco, but I’ve been feeling really down lately, and I was wondering if you could write a one shot or a scenario where the reader has been having a really bad day/week and Draco comforts them? And maybe Draco lays the reader on his chest and he hums a small tune to make the reader feel better? You can ignore this if it’s an issue, but I’d really appreciate it. I love all of your fics btw! They make me really happy <3

Warnings: none bc mostly fluff, some tears, super soft!draco

Words: 1.9K

A/N: i saw this and had to do it effective immediately bc i am feeling the exact same wayyy so this was really nice to think about ;( thank you so much for requesting this and for reading my stuff and i’m so glad i can help in a way <3 i’m sending you nothing but peace, love, and light !!! but i really hope this is gooood <3 do not own gif

Life was punishing you, you thought. It had to be. Because there was no way how in the span of a week everything in your day-to-day life had gone from okay to borderline catastrophic. It was as if every situation you were in was taking its form in the worst case possible scenario and all you could do was watch hopelessly as things continuously got worse sprinkled with small misfortunes in between.

It started on a regular Monday morning, sitting down for breakfast in the Great Hall with blissful ignorance. Halfway through eating your toast, your owl had come in through the open large glass windows and dropped a letter onto your plate from home that left you some very unfortunate news and had set forth a ripple effect that began making everything else go downhill as your days progressed. By the end of the school week, you had managed to blow up a potion, lose house points because of said potion when it splashed onto some people and had some physically altering effects, tripped over your footing and fell in the middle of a crowded corridor, failed a surprise quiz, forgot to turn in an essay, got into an argument with a friend, accidentally slept in and missed a morning class, and took a trip to the hospital wing for a migraine that didn’t want to leave you alone. You could’ve sworn you had somehow been thrown into purgatory, or limbo, or something outer-worldly.

“Are you alright?” Draco had asked you right after breakfast that Monday morning as he was walking you to your first class. “What was in the letter your owl gave you? You look worried.”

“It was nothing,” you dismissed quickly, trying to put on a half-hearted smile while you spoke to make it more convincing. “I’m fine, just tired.”

It was the beginning of the week, and he did keep you up late the night before when you were sneaking around together, so he just shook his head up and down and took your excuse even though he felt like there was more to it than you were letting on. But as the days went on, he was becoming more observant of the way you were acting and even looking. He didn’t like that every morning he saw the shadows under your eyes get deeper and darker, and he didn’t like how you would close your eyes in pain when you would groan about your headache. He also didn’t like the way he hadn’t seen you truly smile or laugh all week even when he tried countless times to amuse you or cheer you up. But what he didn’t like most of all was that he felt like there was nothing he could do.

On Wednesday afternoon, he tried asking you again. You were sitting in the Quad with him on a bench and he was telling you a story from earlier in the day about how he had ‘accidentally’ tripped this Gryffindor boy and got Snape to take away house points from him that he thought for sure would you make laugh or perhaps give him a disapproving redirection, but when he glanced up to see your reaction, he noticed you weren’t even listening, to begin with. You had been staring down at your shoes and the way they lined up against the cracks in the pavement, kicking around some gravel as your mind was running a million thoughts per second.

“Love?” He said to you softly. You looked up at him swiftly with a quiet questioning hum, e/c eyes widened slightly from being ripped away from your thoughts suddenly. “You know if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me.”

“I know,” you nodded warmly. “I’m okay, Dray. I’m honestly just tired.”

And you were telling the truth, in a sense. You really were tired; physically, mentally, emotionally.

He frowned, dissatisfied with your answer. “Right, well if anything at all comes up, I’m here.”

From then on, Draco took it upon himself to try and increase his affections and compliments. He would hug you a little tighter, kiss you a little longer, whisper sweet little nothings into your ear before he left you for class. You felt a little bad lying to him, withholding the truth from him, and you saw the concern in his light gray’s when you’d meet him in the mornings and for the rest of the day, but it only made you feel a tad bit worse. You were starting to feel guilty for the way he was worrying, feeling like you were dragging him down into the dumps with you and raining on his usual carefree parades.

On Friday morning, you didn’t meet him for breakfast and you were out of the Great Hall faster than he could catch you. He felt like a stalker when he walked by your class, peeking his head in to see if you were there and well. He spotted you sitting at your desk, hunched over your unopened books with a grimace on your face and your head in your hands. He wanted to go in and whisk you away to somewhere far and quiet, but the Professor had caught him by the door and sent him on his way before he could even think of doing anything of the sort.

You felt the day had gone by extremely slow, relative to how the week was moving and also impossibly dismal. You were counting down the minutes until the end of the school day, ready to run to your dorm right after your last class and bury yourself deep into your duvet and pillows for the rest of the weekend.

Head still pounding, you trudged over to your final class, stopping outside the doors when you saw a small group of your housemates standing around with unnerved expressions as they passed each other papers and spoke in hushed tensed tones.

“I studied all night but my friend took the test earlier and she told me during lunch that it had stuff on it that wasn’t even in the reading!” You heard one exclaim in distress.

“We have a test?” You accidentally said aloud and a pair of eyes turned to look at you confusingly.

“Yeah? Professor’s been telling us all week.”

A scoff of disbelief escaped your lips, an overwhelming sense of defeat washing over you as you turned briskly on your heel and in the opposite direction of your classroom. Tears started pricking at your eyes, you felt the stinging of them wanting to be released but you refused to let them all out in the open and especially in front of people who were still taking their time to head to their classes.

You were making a beeline towards your common room, blinking rapidly to try and clear your vision that was quickly pooling with unshed tears while trying to steady your breathing in another failed attempt to calm yourself. You were nearly there, you could tell by the paintings and doors that you passed by and the black stain splattered on the floor you saw every day on your way to the dorms from someone’s dropped ink bottle that Filch hasn’t been able to get rid of.

Almost there, you kept repeatedly reminding yourself.

All hope of solace was gone when you didn’t notice the body you had unknowingly crashed into. All you felt were strong hands around your biceps, holding you in place from toppling backward and the very familiar scent of expensive cologne and mint.

“Y/N? Why aren’t you in class?” You looked up at the platinum blond sadly, his worried eyes searching yours with such care that it pushed you over the edge.

You didn’t answer him and instead wrapped your arms tightly around Draco’s middle, burying your face deep into his robes and letting out quiet and frail weeps that broke his heart. He held you tightly, pressing kisses to the top of your head and muttering soft “I’m here’s” into your hair. You stayed in his embrace for a few minutes, letting your tears freely fall into his vest with a sense of relief that only he was able to give you at this point in time.

“I’m sorry I cried on you,” you choked out when you pulled away from him, desperately wiping away at your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“You don’t ever have to apologize for that,” he said quickly. He brought his hand up to your face, his thumb swiping delicately over a stray tear that was sitting on your jaw while you closed your eyes in comfort. “Do you want to go back to my room? I can set you up really nicely and we can talk if you’d like?”

“Yes please, I’d like that a lot.”

Draco interlocked your fingers with his, bringing the pair up to his lips with a warm kiss on the back of your hand before walking the two of you over to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. It was empty when you walked in, not a soul in sight since everyone was still in class and it made it much easier for him to sneak you into his singular Prefect room you were now extremely grateful he had. He watched contently when you shed off your robes and kicked off your shoes and immediately slipped into one of his dark green jumpers that fit you big.

You were perched on the edge of his bed, his scent from his sweater engulfing you and doing a much better job of calming you down than you wanted to admit. He followed in your footsteps and changed into something comfier and when he finally sat beside you with his hand falling over yours as an encouragement to talk - you did. You vented to him all about the letter from home, the migraine, your classes, the argument between you and your friend, and everything else that came to mind.

“And I feel bad for ignoring you and not telling you all this before but I didn’t want to burden you,” you finished with sniffles, gazing up at him with a gloomy expression.

“Y/N, I love you, and nothing you say to me is a burden,” he frowned slightly, “when I tell you I’m here, I mean it, for anything. You’re so important to me and it kills me to see you upset.”

In a careful movement, he had scooted towards you and affectionately cupped your face before placing a loving kiss on your forehead and murmured to you, “don’t ever hesitate to come to me.”

You let him pull you under his covers, draping his large duvet over your entangled bodies with your head resting right above his chest, the steady beatings of his heart instantly sending you into a much-needed peace. His chin was rested right atop your head and you felt his fingers run up and down your arm soothingly while he thought.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?” He asked quietly.

“Can you help me fall asleep?” you muttered, closing your eyes gently when his hand smoothed over the back of your hair. You felt him nod against your head and after a small moment silence, you heard him begin to hum the faint tune of your favorite song.

You lied there in bliss, enjoying the way his chest was vibrating against your ear and the way his fingers were playing with the ends of your hair, curling the strands around his fingers and then moving upwards to massage your scalp. And for a minute, everything was finally okay again as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, a full heart and with your love calmly lulling you away with a soft and now distant humming.

2K notes · View notes

goldensstateofgrace · 3 years

Text

Dream Of How You (Tasted) - Chapter One -

(So... my first Series!!! I’ll be working on this a lot, and i want you to know it’s not gonna be perfect because I’m not perfect and my writings definitely not perfect, so bare with me on this journey please!! Who’s ready for some Camgirl!y/n??)

A story about Y/N becoming a camgirl because she needs the money but also because she gets off on the praise she gets from total strangers. She enjoys helping other’s get off while doing so herself. When talk about a one on one session with a guy who always watches her streams becomes reality, what happens when she finds out it was her crush/best friend all along?

I hope you guys are excited!! bc I know I am!! Hope you enjoy, happy reading!!

(Also, i picture Harry as long haired harry, but you can picture him however you’d like!!!)

Word count: 1.7k (4 pages) (i promise the other chapters will be longer!)

Y/n didn’t know college could be so expensive, her job at the coffee shop on campus just wasn’t cutting it anymore. She needed to find something else to help pay for school and her rent.

She’s in her second year of uni, all the book costs and the rent for having an apartment so close to campus is outrageous. She tried to find a second job to help with the money problem she was currently having, but couldn't find anything that could work around her classes and coffee shop schedule.

Her best friend, Harry, tried to get her a job alongside him at his job, but again the schedule didn’t work for her and they couldn’t change it. So now, she's stuck trying to find something to do so close when she needs to pay her rent.

It was outrageous how much the rent was for a one bedroom apartment close to campus, it’s a thousand - some dollars a month just to be close to campus, but that’s including her light and water bill so she can’t complain too much.

Harry had offered to let her move in with him to cut down the cost, so she could save some money for school. But she declined because her boyfriend at the time didn’t feel comfortable with it, only to find out on their one year anniversary that he had been cheating on her for a while. Asshole.

Nothing has been said since, but she wished he would. Moving out of her apartment would help so much, but she didn’t want to ask.

Lost in her thoughts she didn’t even notice Harry walking beside her, as she walked across the courtyard to class.

“Why so glum” he nudged her in the side with his elbow, startling her out of her thoughts. She slaps in on the arm, chuckling, “Harry! Don’t do that!”

“You didn’t answer the question, What’s wrong? And don’t give me the ‘Nothing im fine!’ thing you do,” he says, mimicking a higher pitched girly voice, chuckling once he was done.

“Heyy! I don’t sound like that you twat!” you backhand his abdomen making him rub his stomach area as he grimaces in slight pain.

“But” she starts, “i’ve just been struggling again, i tried looking for a job but, just like last time the schedule didn’t line up with any of my classes or with when i was working at the coffee shop.” she says, huffing in annoyance.

Harry nods his head as she talks, listening to her, wishing he could help in some way. He tried before, but she turned him down, she didn’t even tell him why. He figured it had something to do with that cheating ex of hers.

“Y/n, if you need help, all you have to do is ask. I’ll always be her to help you in any way I can,” he tells her, his eyes flickering over her face, showing nothing but seriousness, a drastic change from his happy light hearted self he was just a few minutes ago.

She casts her eyes away from him, focusing her eyes on the pavement under her feet as she walks. She doesn’t say anything for a while, but eventually she looks up at him, tears filling her eyes.

“I know” she nods, “Thank you, Harry. You don’t have to, but thank you,” she says, the tears in her eyes threatening to spill down her cheek but they don’t get the chance as she wipes them away before they do.

Harry wraps his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side and placing a kiss to her head, “I may not have to, but i want to.” he mumbles into the top of her head.

Her arm wraps around his middle as they continue to walk to their second class of that morning, “Thank you.”

--------------

“You know what you should do?” Harry's friend Niall says as y/n, Harry, Niall and y/n’s friend Amy sit around a table in the coffee shop having lunch. Y/n quirks her eyebrow up as she takes a bite of her turkey sandwich, motioning him to go on.

Y/n had just got finished telling them about how she was in search of another job, and about how she needed the money to pay rent soon.

“You should do only fans, or p*** h**, they make lots of money and that way you get something out of it other than stress and tiredness.” he says, making her almost choke on her sandwich.

“W-what!” y/n says just as Harry says “Dude! No!”

“What’s the big deal? Lots of people do it, and you don’t even have to show your face. You could even go by a different name!” Niall reasons.

Y/n was shocked by his suggestion, but she wouldn’t lie and say she was put off by the idea. Nobody would know it was her, and he did have a point about her not having to go by her own name.

She couldn’t believe she was actually considering this but, you have to do what you have to do.

“yeah uh” she clears her throat, “good suggestion Ni, but i think i’ll just stick with trying to find a job near campus” she says, chuckling as she takes another bite of her sandwich.

“eh, it was worth a shot,” he laughs, before the conversation steers to assignments everyone had to get done and ones they’ve already done.

After they all finish eating they sit around talking for a little bit before Y/n and Harry had to head for their last class of the day.

As they walk to class, Harry’s arm that’s thrown over y/n’s pulls her into his side, “You know Niall was coming from a good place, right. He didn’t mean to offend you or anything,” he says, making you look up at him with your brows furrowed in confusion.

“yeah , i know. I didn’t take any offence to it, but…” she trailed off, “What?” harry asks, motioning for her to continue as they walk past a group of people blocking the sidewalk.

“Would it be so bad? I mean he had a point about me not having to show my face or use my actual name” she said, her eyes flicking over his face for some kind of clue into what he thought of it all.

Harry doesn’t say anything for a while, it’s just as they were about to walk into their class that he pulled her to the side and let their other classmates go in first, “I don’t have a problem with it, it’s your body, you have the right to do whatever you want with it. If you decide that that’s what you want to do to make the money you need i’ll support you 100%, if not i’ll still support you, no matter what,” He tells her, looking into her eyes with nothing but seriousness splayed across his face.

Y/n nods, standing up on her tiptoes and reaching her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, “Thank you, Harry. I honestly don’t know what i’d do without you!” she mumbles into his neck as his arms wrap around her waist pulling her impossibly closer to his chest.

“I don’t either honestly” he laughs, pulling away from her with a huge contagious smile across his face, only making her laugh and smile too.

“Come on, let's go to class,” he said, throwing his arm back around her shoulder and leading her through the classroom doors.

----------------

It was later that night, y/n couldn’t sleep. Her thoughts running wild with what could happen if she did decide to become a camgirl, or whatever it was called these days.

She was laying in bed, trying to find out more about what comes with being a camgirl, what she needed to do and what other people were looking to watch.

She had found a girl, her page consisting of videos showing off her curves and sexy lingerie, along with videos of her using toys on herself. All of the videos have over thousands of views, y/n decided that she would message the women who went by ‘daddiespet20’.

Rewrote her message so many times she lost count before she finally found what she wanted to ask and sent the message,“Hey! I’m y/n, i was wondering if you could maybe help me, i’ve been looking into getting into only fans. Could you maybe help me with some questions I have?”

She waited a while for a reply back, along with going down a tiktok rabbit hole, laughing at the stupid tiktoks Harry posted the other day. Her phone finally pinged with a notification, she quickly pulled the notification bar down to see it was a reply from the women she had messaged, “Daddiespet20: Hi! Yes ofc, ask away.”

She honestly wasn’t expecting to get a reply back, thinking the women must have thousands of people messaging her all day every day.

Y/n quickly wrote out a message of the main questions she wanted answered, “Thank you sm! It’s only a few questions, 1: does the amount you get paid rely on the amount of views you get on each of your videos?, 2: how did you gain your audience, and keep them interested in what you were putting out?, 3: Do you have any tips on where to start (seeing as I'm new to all of this)?”

The woman answers all of y/n’s questions with no problem, along with telling her some tips on how to get started and how to gain followers. The conversion ends after messaging back and forth for almost an hour, y/n’s walking away with all the information she was looking for plus more.

Talking to her really helped y/n come to the decision that this is what she was going to do, she was going to make videos of her showing off her body and pleasuring herself. Never in a million years did she think she would come to this just so she could keep a roof over her head and stay in school.

Now all she had to do was buy some sexy lingerie and some toys, well more toys. What? She’s not a prude!

It was getting late so she decided she would go to bed and figure everything out tomorrow, along with ordering her underwear and the toys online. She definitely didn’t need anyone from school seeing her by that stuff. God, she could just imagine the embarrassment she would feel if that happened.

---------------

Feed back is highly appreciated!! Hope you enjoyed 🥺🥰

#harry styles x y/n #harrystylessmut #harryfic #harrystylesfic #harry styles imagine #harrystyles #harry styles x reader #camgirl!y/n

153 notes · View notes

krappykawa · 4 years

Text

ಌ i mildly like you more than like (p.5)

— in which an incessant fan girl, a kiss, and a little bit of denial makes oikawa tooru realize he might mildly like you more than like

description. you’ve been in love with oikawa tooru for longer than you can remember. having known him for the better part of nearly 11 years, you’ve come to accept that you’ll never be more than a best friend to him. but with the help of a few irritatingly persistent fangirls and a kiss that was only meant to drive them away, a tale of unrequited love might just prove to be something more.

warnings. language

word count. 4.6k

oikawa tooru x f!reader, childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, some angst

parts. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

author’s note. second to last part 😼😼 idk if you could call this angst but whatever it is will end next chap bc next chap will probably be teeth-rotting 😄

previously ...

“ You can feel Hanamaki stand straighter and you’re sure that he has the stupidest triumphant grin on his face. “No. Not until you stop crying over captain pretty face.”

“Y/N-chan’s crying over who now?”

You feel Makki freeze in the middle of his marching. Awkwardly, you turn to see Oikawa’s figure at the door from your position thrown over Hanamaki’s shoulder. You forgot that he was the only one that doesn’t knock.

Something in Oikawa’s expression is odd.

“Makki, fix this or I cut off your dick,” you whisper into his ear. He gulps.

“Oh, hey Shittykawa. We’re just helping Y/N with her captain pretty face problems,” Hanamaki says. You already don’t like the way that this is heading.

“Who … exactly is .. captain pretty face?” Oikawa’s eyes are on you. The irony of the nickname is not lost on you. You can only hope that the words that come out of Hanamaki’s mouth next are not the words you’re dreading.

“Don’t worry. You’re not captain pretty face. Kaoru is!” The world does not seem to be on your side.

Oikawa’s smile drops and suddenly you have the urge to cut Makki’s dick off anyways, because he just made this a lot, lot worse. “

“Ah, so I’ve been replaced by another captain pretty face? Y/N-chan I’m wounded!” Oikawa closes the door behind him as he laughs, but the sound is hollowed and not at all what a genuine laugh of his sounds like. You shoot a look to Iwaizumi, but find that he’s scrutinizing Oikawa in the same way that you were just moments ago.

With a light punch to his back from you, Makki slowly sets you back down onto your feet. You lift a hand to tidy your hair.

“Makki’s lying. He’s just being a pain in the ass,” you reply. In saying that, you’re well aware of the fact that you’re potentially diving into dangerous territory. It would be too easy for Oikawa to decide that he wants to know more and possibly ask you the questions that you’re so dreading, but there’s something wrong about having him believe that you actually like Kaoru that you find more dreadful than potentially having to tell him about your year-long love for him.

Oikawa sets his bag down next to a bin full of his things that he’d left over the years before turning back to look at you. The expression he meets you with is almost off-putting. The corners of his mouth are flicked upwards in what might be disapproval, but his eyes reflect something else - something akin to regret. “Is he really? I mean you have been spending quite a bit of time with Kaoru-kun as of late, haven’t you?”

His voice sounds like it’s dripping with lies, though you can’t quite understand why that’s so because he technically wasn’t lying. You decide that maybe you've just gotten so used to the realness of Oikawa that you forget that his natural tongue is fluent in lying. The only people that have ever been able to see right through his tone are all standing in this room.

Inevitably, you find your eyes flicking to Makki’s. Oikawa notices. You see the facade drop the mildest bit.

“I don’t. You know that you would be the first to know if I did,” you say. It’s true. Growing up, he’s always been the first to know about your crushes, no matter how small. He’s known about all crushes, except for one. Him himself.

Something changes in his expression then. It’s a miniscule change - the slight upward tip to his lips that makes the almost imperceptible indent of a dimple peak out - but you’re so attuned to him that you know that means that his smile is genuine. “I’ll hold you to that Y/N-chan. Don’t you go around replacing me.”

The air in the room seems to sigh in relief. You turn your eyes away from him when you feel yourself start to smile. You don’t want to give Makki, Mattsun, or Iwaizumi anything to make fun of you for later on.

“Cut the dramatics in front of them. It’s like you’re asking to get made fun of,” you say instead.

Oikawa just shrugs. “According to Iwa-chan, just having this face is already asking to get made fun of, so there’s really no big difference.”

Iwaizumi snorts from his position on the couch. “I said that your face when you look dumb is asking to get made fun of, but it’s good that you’re self aware.”

Oikawa sticks a tongue out at him.

“As mature as always captain,” Mattsun says.

Oikawa flicks his gaze to Matsukawa before he says, “Hm, that reminds me. Y/N-chan please accompany me to the kitchen.” He’s already walking to the kitchen without waiting for a response.

You exchange looks with Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki. Hanamaki has the decency to look apologetic. You make hand motions at him that elicits a chuckle from Matsukawa.

When you enter the kitchen, Oikawa has a cup of ice and a handkerchief sitting on the counter. He’s carefully dropping a few ice cubes into the middle of the handkerchief.

“What’s that for?”

He’s quiet as he finishes and wraps the handkerchief around the ice. “Close your eyes,” he says softly as he walks towards you and presses the cold ice against your eyes. “You were crying before I got here.”

You stay quiet. Of course he noticed.

“What happened? Are you sure Makki was lying? You can tell me you know, if something happened with Kaoru.”

You let out a breath and allow the cold of the ice against your eyes ease you into a lie. “I wasn’t crying over Kaoru. They just found out that he walked me home today and decided to roll with it. I’m really just exhausted from classes.”

The hand that Oikawa was using to dab at your eyes suddenly stops. “Kaoru … walked you home? From the bakery?”

Slowly, you let your eyes flutter open, your puffing eyes already missing the cold of the ice against your eyelids. Oikawa’s eyes are trained on you, and you get that odd feeling that he’s searching you for answers. You’ve found that he’s been doing that a lot as of late - this whole reading instinct he uses for people he’s just met. You still aren’t used to him using it on you.

You flick your eyes away from his and break the eye contact. Instead, you look at his hand and reach up to take the ice pack from him. He hands it to you gently and takes a step back. You watch him as he clears his throat and moves to disappear behind the fridge door.

“Yeah, he did walk me home,” you pause, debating with yourself about telling him. “I think he came to ask me on a date, actually.”

You think you imagine Oikawa’s body stopping mid-movement. “Did you say yes?”

“No. He asked if I was free today. I told him that I already made plans with you four.”

“Oh,” Oikawa says as he pulls out a cup of mint chocolate chip.

“Yeah.”

As he makes himself busy with finding a spoon, you lean against the counter and continue to press the ice against your eyes. Oikawa sneaks a glance at you. “If he asked again, and you didn’t have plans. Would you say yes?”

His voice is unnaturally quiet. You aren’t sure what to do with that knowledge.

“Probably not. I broke up with him for a reason.”

A noise of agreement comes from Oikawa. “You said that you two didn’t click.”

“We don’t.”

A comfortable silence engulfs you two as Oikawa leans against the counter next to you. You try not to watch him as he takes a bite of ice cream and unintentionally smiles, his eyes looking serene for the first time in a while. Instead, you make yourself busy with alternating the ice pack between your eyes, though now you were mostly just doing it so that you had something to do other than get the urge to stare at him.

After a moment, Oikawa speaks again. “I still don’t believe for one second that you were only crying because of school.”

You let the hand holding the ice pack finally fall to your side. “Well you better believe it then because it’s the truth.”

“Maybe. But I get the feeling that it’s a half truth.”

“Half truths aren’t all bad.”

“So I’m right.”

You make yourself busy with throwing the ice into the sink as you scramble your head for a decent lie. “Bad day at the bakery. I fucked up the honey buns.”

Oikawa hums. “So now it’s a two-thirds truth.”

The other third is that I’m in love with your dumbass and you’ll never know.

“That’s it. Promise.”

Oikawa switches tactics. “Y/N-channn. You’re lying to me.”

“Tooruuuu. I’m not lying to you,” you say as you roll your eyes.

“Yes you are. You’re doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“Tapping your right middle finger on your thigh.”

“I do that?” You look down and find that you were indeed tapping your finger against your thigh. You start to wonder how many other times he could detect your lies, but for the sake of your sanity, you decide not to dwell on it.

He reaches down and stops your tapping finger with his own hand. The moment lasts too long -- feels too personal. You pull your hand away and take a step back so that you’re leaning against the opposite counter.

“Whatever. I’m telling the truth.”

“Sure you are.”

“I am!”

“Mhm. Lies, lies , lies,” Oikawa says playfully. “Sorry for not being here earlier. I got caught up in playing this new game Takeru bought. You should’ve called me over. I would’ve come in a heartbeat if I knew that you were having a hard time.”

You make a waving motion with your hand. “It’s fine really. I just got overwhelmed by stuff. No big deal.”

Oikawa frowns. The sight doesn’t look natural on his usually smiling face. “Stop putting yourself down like that. I don’t care how small you think your problem is. If it makes you cry, then it’s worth talking about.”

“Don’t get all team captain ‘Kawa on me. I appreciate it, I really do. But this time it really wasn’t a big deal.”

He scoffs in disbelief. “I walked in and your eyes looked redder than Mattsun’s ass after I accidentally hit him with a serve.”

“How the fuck would you know that?”

“Don’t question what goes on in the locker room.”

A laugh bubbles up from your lips and you have to tip your head back so that Oikawa doesn’t make fun of the way your face contorts as you laugh. When your laughter finally dies down, you look back to see that Oikawa’s staring at you again. He’s looking at you like you’re an opponent he can’t quite get a read on.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Everything’s fine,” he pauses. “Do you think I should invite Hishoko next time? You know … to be a .. good boyfriend.”

Suddenly it hits you again. It hits you that you can’t just live in this perfect little bubble where you and Oikawa are making jokes at each other in your kitchen forever. It hits you that this Oikawa - the Oikawa that’s so very real and rough around the edges but makes you laugh louder than anyone - isn’t yours. It hits you that while he might look at you one way, he might look at Hishoko in a completely different way that you have never been privy to.

It rips you back to reality, and suddenly you’re aware of the voices in the living room and how Makki and Iwa seem to be fighting over whatever movie’s better.

“Oh yeah. I don’t mind.” You smile up at him with the most convincing smile you can. Suddenly, the thought of spending one more minute in this kitchen with him and getting lost in this perfect little bubble makes you want to cry all over again. “We should head back. I think hell’s going down over there,” you say lightly.

Before he can even get a word out, you’re already making a beeline for the living room. You try to slow your steps to a normal pace when you start towards where Iwaizumi is now sitting on the floor. You make sure to make him move over so that you can sit on the side where the couch ends so that Oikawa can’t sit next to you.

“Fucking finally. Don’t ever leave me in a room with Makki and Iwaizumi ever again,” Matsukawa says. You laugh a little when you notice that he’s saying that while being sprawled across Makki’s lap.

“It’s not my fault that Hanamaki can’t appreciate a cinematic masterpiece.”

“Hate to break it to you Iwa, but Godzilla vs. The Cosmic Monster isn’t anyone’s favorite movie.”

Oikawa’s voice joins in as you hear steps from the kitchen. “Makki, that movie’s a fucking masterpiece. Please shut your mouth.”

You try not to listen to the way Oikawa’s steady steps back into the living room come to a halt when he notices your choice of seat.

He looks up at the stars twinkling against the blackened blue of the contrasting night sky with a heavy sigh. Oikawa always felt a sense of stability and tranquility when looking up at the sky, as if it was a reminder that his life was just a minuscule dot in the cloth of the universe. That maybe, his worries were something so small that he needn’t have to worry about them.

He remembers the way that the night sky was his company when his father had left so early on in his life, or when his sister had come home crying because she had a human growing inside of her and the man she was supposed to marry left her in the same fashion that their own father had, or when he thought that maybe his love for volleyball would have to be ripped from him after his injury in his first year.

He hopes to look up at the dark indigo of the sky and feel that same tranquility. For just a moment. It does.

But even now, as his chest rises softly, he can still feel the unease weighing on him.

The night went by unnaturally fast for a night with you, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa. After a few fights between the guys, all five of you finally sat down and got around to watching the movie (which, to Oikawa’s distaste, was some old film from the 60s that Matsukawa had picked because he was drawn to the odd looking cover).

The movie came and went with more than a few complaints from him. It was the type of movie that he especially hated - the kind with a plot that made absolutely zero sense and had an ending that made Oikawa want to rewind the last two hours because he just couldn’t believe he spent 2 hours of his life trying to figure out what the hell was going on just for it to not have a satisfactory ending.

He wouldn’t put the bad movie down as the reason for his irritable mood, but if anyone asked, it would be the answer that they’d get.

Nobody else seemed to be particularly fond of the horrendous movie either (except for Matsukawa, who insisted that they just simply did not have to brain to appreciate the masterpiece. Makki just insisted that the movie was a pile of shit, which Oikawa found himself agreeing with).

Soon after, the five of you found yourselves cramped into your tiny kitchen, which really should never happen again, if the glass that broke after getting knocked over was any indication. It only really happened because Matsukawa swore that he could create the best soup they’d ever put anywhere near their mouths, but that plan went up in flames. Literally.

The incident of Makki almost setting off the fire alarm seemed to sober everyone up, as if whatever energy had previous possessed the five of you had suddenly run out. Oikawa didn’t mind too much, considering the rest of the night was spent watching reruns of one of your favorite shows that he was particularly fond of.

What he did mind however, was the way that you seemed to decide to avoid him for the entire night. He was sure that Iwa, Mattsun, and Makki must’ve noticed, but by some odd agreement, nobody dared speak a word about it.

He tried not to think about anything whenever he felt his eyes drift down to where you were huddled against Iwaizumi’s side, a position that had been his and yours for as long as he could remember. He tried not to think about it then because he was sure that if he did, he’d end up saying something he didn’t mean to say.

He knew that he’d have to think about this in the silence of his own thoughts where there’s nothing but his own annoying emotions chiming in.

So now he’s here, sitting on a bench in your backyard and staring up at the sky like it’ll give him the answer to whatever question he wanted answered.

He hadn’t meant to bring up Hishoko, he really hadn’t. He just remembered the way his stomach fluttered once more at the sound of your laugh and the way it made him panic, because for the love of everything he wasn’t supposed to feel like that.

“Oikawa?”

Oikawa tears his gaze from the sky and turns to meet Iwaizumi’s head as he slips through the door. He must not have heard the door open. “Hey Iwa-chan. I couldn’t sleep.”

Iwaizumi lets out a low chuckle as he walks to where Oikawa’s seated in the middle of your rock garden. He takes a seat next to Oikawa on the bench. “Leave it to you to be the only one that stays up when everyone else crashed two hours ago.”

“Mhm. Why are you awake? Last I checked you were as passed out as the rest of them,” Oikawa says with his gaze still flickering over the stars.

Iwaizumi shrugs. “Had to use the bathroom and then realized that you weren’t anywhere to be found.”

Oikawa seizes the moment to don his cheeky smile, turning his head from the stars and to Iwaizumi’s sleep-ridden face. “Awe you worried about me Iwa-chan?”

The reaction he gets from Iwaizumi is an eyeroll, but Oikawa doesn’t expect any less. “After you spent the night looking like you were one second away from an existential crisis? Yeah I did.”

Oikawa doesn’t respond to that. He wonders if you noticed too.

“Spit it out.”

He ponders with himself for a moment, wondering if it’s a good idea to finally just talk about it with someone. He decides that if there’s anyone he’d talk about this with, he’s glad it’s with Iwaizumi. “It’s about Y/N and Hishoko.”

Iwa doesn’t miss a beat, as if he was expecting that. “Mm. What about them?”

“I think I made a mistake.”

“You make a lot of those, ‘Kawa.”

“No, I mean, I shouldn’t have accepted Hishoko’s confession when the only reason I did it was because I didn’t know how I was feeling. It’s not fair to her that the only reason I’m with her is because I’m too cowardly to decide how I felt after I ...” Oikawa trails off, unsure if you’d be okay with Iwaizumi knowing.

It seems he doesn’t have to worry because Iwaizumi finishes his sentence for him. “Kissed Y/N?”

Oikawa’s head turns to Iwaizumi. “You know about that?”

“She told me, yeah.”

“Why … why would she tell you that?”

“You’re not fucking dense, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says with a side glance at his best friend. “I think you know the answer to that.”

For a moment Oikawa considers the possibility that you did feel the same way (a fantasy he’s entertained more times than he’s willing to admit), but he knows that he has to get this out now, has to figure it out and solidify what he feels for you now, because he won’t be able to stand it if he has to keep tiptoeing around you because he’s a fool that can’t admit his own feelings to himself.

The question that comes out of his mouth next isn’t exactly what he meant to ask, but now that it’s out in the open, Oikawa guesses that maybe that’s the question that’s been holding him back this whole time. “What if I mess up?”

“Mess up how?”

He sighs. “I don’t exactly have a great track record when it comes to relationships.” So far, out of the six relationships he’s had, only two of them will even look at him without disdain, and one of those is his current girlfriend.

“No shit,” Iwaizumi snorts.

Oikawa fakes a pout before crossing his arms. “You could’ve at least pretended to disagree.”

“When you’re out here moping because of it? No I won’t.”

A silence falls over the two of them. Oikawa can feel his own breathing synced up with Iwaizumi and finds that it clears his head a little bit. He gets the feeling that Iwaizumi isn’t going to talk again until he does.

“Hishoko’s great, really she is,” Oikawa starts again. “But I just-“ He lets out a frustrated sigh, slumping further down against the bench.

Iwaizumi hums. “Don’t like her like that? Because there’s someone else?”

Oikawa blinks, still slumped down like a limp noodle. “When you put it that way it sounds so uncomplicated.”

“Because it is.”

Oikawa ponders that. Maybe it is that simple, but for how confident he is about everything else in life, he’s never had a firm grip on romance or how to deal with it. He always seemed to do the exact opposite of what anyone with a good instinct would do.

He’s read enough shoujo manga with you to know that love isn’t as easy as “kiss and live happily ever after”, especially if that love is with your best friend. A shoujo manga he especially remembered liking in first year was of a story of best friends that fell in love, but as fate had it, they fell in love with the right person at the wrong time.

That manga really shouldn’t be something he compares his own love life to, but he can’t help but worry, especially given his past relationships. Oikawa doesn’t usually feel such anxiety about jumping into relationships (mainly because the relationships he did get into were never relationships he really took as seriously as he should), but now he feels that shadow of insecurity come lurking back like a piece of gum stuck to his shoe. It seems he can never escape his own fear of never being enough.

“But Y/N’s different,” he finally says after a hefty silence. “Most of my exes hate me now because of how badly I keep messing up. I don’t know what I’ll do if I mess up with her.”

Iwaizumi crosses his arms tighter. “Y/N’s been through tons of your bullshit. She won’t give up on you that easily, as long as you don’t colossally fuck up.”

Oikawa nods, but there’s already another question bugging him. “How can I be sure that I love her like that? I mean, I remember thinking that I loved Yua, but now that I look back, I wonder if that was only because she was the only relationship I had that kept me around for so long.”

He doesn’t even want to think about the possibility that he might mess up that badly - that he’ll take back his feelings for you within a few days like he’s been known for in past relationships. Oikawa thinks that that would most definitely count as a colossal fuck up.

“I’m not trying to label your feelings or anything, but I think you’ve been in love with her for a long time now,” Iwaizumi says in the softest voice Oikawa’s ever heard it be in the years he’d known him. “I just think you’re only starting to realize it because well, you said you kissed right?”

“We did.”

“Then yeah, that probably woke your brain up a little.”

“She’s not just a case of raging hormones,” Oikawa replies.

“I know she’s not,” Iwaizumi says mildly. “I’m just saying that sometimes you don’t realize that you feel like that for someone until something happens that forces you to think about it. For you, it was probably that kiss.”

Oikawa knows that Iwaizumi is probably remembering his own experience with Hanamaki. The look of heartbreak on his best friend’s face when they found Matsukawa and Hanamaki with their lips locked against the side of the school building was not one he would easily forget. He wonders if Iwaizumi knew the extent of his feelings before that moment or if he went through something similar to what Oikawa’s going through.

The remembrance of Iwaizumi’s past feelings also makes Oikawa wonder if he’s felt like this toward you even before all this, just like he knew of Iwaizumi’s feelings for Hanamaki before Iwaizumi himself did.

“I think I would’ve noticed if I felt things towards her before all this. Maybe not a lot, but I would’ve noticed to some extent.”

Iwaizumi snorts. “No you wouldn’t. You’ve got the mind of a genius when it comes to volleyball, but when it comes to any aspect of your life that isn’t volleyball, then your brain is like a pile of horseshit.”

“Iwa-chan, so mean!”

“I’m right and you know it.”

“No you aren’t,” Oikawa says, though he’s not so sure he believes himself.

“You’ve centered your whole life on volleyball ‘Kawa. You’ve neglected shit about yourself because of volleyball. I’ve seen it, Y/N’s seen it. Volleyball is the center of your mind and everything kinda revolves around it like a solar system. But once you get used to something being a small little planet in that tiny brain of yours, you just accept it as a natural part of your thinking because the big old volleyball is still vying for your attention.”

“Please, Iwa-chan. It’s two in the morning. Please speak in a language I can understand.”

“You loved her when we were kids, right?” Iwaizumi pauses and Oikawa just nods. “Then your love and feelings for her were put into this nice bubble labeled ‘positive feelings’ and you never realized when you might’ve started looking at her differently because being in love with her is still a positive feeling.”

“And I’ve been so focused on volleyball and practice that I didn’t even notice?”

Iwaizumi raises a brow at Oikawa. “Are you trying to say that you haven’t neglected parts of your life before for volleyball?”

“Okay, good point.”

Iwaizumi’s explanation does make sense to him, now that Oikawa has something to latch his thought process on. He always liked having you around, and you had become one of the anchors that kept him from breaking over the years. He’s always known that being around you gave him ounces of joy, but he never really looked further into it because well .. Iwaizumi was right.

It was in the way where he unknowingly looked for your figure in the stands when he won the Best Setter award back in junior high. He hadn’t really noticed because he thought he’d always done that.

It was in the way that he would sometimes head to your place after a particularly grueling practice just to make rice cakes for the both of you because he was so exhausted that the only thing he wanted to do is see your smile as you compliment his cooking. He hadn’t really noticed that he got giddy at that prospect because he felt as if he’d always felt like that.

It was in the way that he would sometimes lay his head on your shoulder and only focus on your breathing because it calmed him down in ways that nothing else can. He hadn’t really noticed that he was doing so because he’s always done that.

You had become a positive constant in his life and loving you one way or another became the default. He just hadn’t been paying close enough attention to when it was that the hugs, the support, the little glances, and the nights spent falling asleep on each other might have become something more than the childish blind love he held for you as children. And then that kiss came along and hit him like a volleyball to the face.

With that, he finally lets himself admit it to himself, with no qualms or worries about how he might find a way to mess up. He lets himself admit that he might be a tiny bit in love with you.

It almost hits him like a truck then because huh, he’s in love with you. And yet, he doesn’t feel so different, he just feels lighter.

“Huh.”

“You finally figured it out then?”

Oikawa smiles to himself. “Yeah, I think I did.”

A smile finds its way onto Iwaizumi’s lips. “Happy to see it, asshole. Just don’t keep her waiting on you for another three years.”

“I won’t. I don’t plan on wasting any more time now that I finally figured it out.”

“How do you plan on telling her then?”

“That I love her?”

“You love her?” A voice that’s not Iwaizumi’s nearly jolts him from his seat. He’d know that voice anywhere.

He turns to find you standing not far from where he and Iwaizumi are seated and feels the color drain from his face.

taglist. @bumbledunce @angelkogane @waitforitillwritemywayout @mrsbakug0u @salty4tsukki @ppangiiroo @pharvhs @haksblade @whosmorales @yoitsseulgi @seijohreign @intheawks @smellssharpies @my-neighbor-todoro @fightcalum @yatoatyourservice @woo-youngs @fandomlover-universe @cowward @iwaizoom @keitsukki11 @airheadpillar @hockeycoaching @catchmeb-r-awling @gudetamalifestyle @starryhyun @babbykawa @chickentendo315

next chapter is the final chapter :D if you wanna be added to the taglist for the last chap then just send an ask!

#oikawa x reader #oikawa fluff #oikawa angst #oikawa x y/n #oikawa headcanons #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #oikawa #oikawa imagine

515 notes · View notes

redevenir · 4 years

Text

faintheart in the dark

hoshi x reader

wc : ~ 1800

a/n : @tearsofsyrup let’s just say it’s for you dear, since your tiger agenda blog inspired me. i wish you the best as usual, and hopefully this will feel like a little treat after a good day! not at all a horror au bc that dumb fucker doesn’t know what fear is anyway. Very self indulgent. Also I didn’t proofread so sorry for the faults!

The bus ride is quiet, a nice relief after Soonyoung’s busy day. Still, it’s not as satisfying as it would be to go home, cook up something quick and warm, drown himself under the shower and crash into his bed. He wonders when he became like that. Working for school after working for a minimum wage, and feeling like this is it. The bus stops pass one after the other until he finally reaches the humanities’ campus. Despite his fatigue and his hunger, he wastes no time in going to the cafeteria – it’s almost closing hour and he knows how annoying last minute customers are – and makes his way directly toward the library. He mindlessly watches the humanities’ building as he passes by. He notices the glass door of the library, goes in, allows himself a brief nod of the head to whoever is at the front desk – maybe a new one ? And they still haven’t fixed that broken ceiling light. He heads to the history of art section, he takes his things out of his bag and sets them up on a table, his pencil case, his notebook, takes out an imposing History of rural theater from the shelves and resumes to work. The pipes are unusually squeaky, but he manages to focus on his task, takes notes for his paper. There is a charm to his subject, he thinks. It is a nice change, to be able to talk about less conventional art, a more popular one. It reminds him of home. He allows himself a quick look over the rest of the tables. A usual, empty Tuesday night. The light flashes in irregular patterns. There are enough others so it’s far from dark, but it is annoying enough to distract Soonyoung from reading. Sighing, he scans the hall again, as a treat. Far away, in the medieval History section, he notices your bag and his lips twitch upward. It’s true you chose that Colors from the Middle-age class, but it’s so unexpected he keeps forgetting about it. Jun sometimes reminds him when he talks about whatever assignments the professor gives you. It’s still weird to think that you and Junhui see each other every week, regardless of Soonyoung, whereas he would go out of his way to go the same parties as you, to get a chance to see you. He closes his eyes, just for a bit. Once he’ll be done, he’ll come over and say hello. As a treat.

When Soonyoung wakes up, he is in the dark. He narrows his eyes in hopes of seeing through, and notices the flickering light by the entrance. Pressing his lips together, he rubs his fingers on his temples. There is no point in staying any longer. He doesn’t bother to look at the time on his phone, puts everything back in his back, leaves the history of theater on the table, and, before leaving, tries to remember where the bathrooms are. Following his foggy intuition, he slaloms among the tables, bumping a few chairs on the way. There is something unsettling about being there after hours. Libraries are supposed to be quiet places for sure, but the dark silence in which he is really far from his habit. He licks his lips, tries to be careful, and with a yawn he reaches the corridor. The soft green light of the emergency exit illuminates it. Here is his way out.

Dum. Dum. Dum. The sound of your heart is deafening. Your bronchi burn, yet you try to control the rhythm of your breathing, the sound of it, even though the alarm ringing in your head shrieks there is no time for this. From what are you even hiding yourself? Sweat runs cold down your spine, you smell it. You want to go home. You want to get out. You want to slap Soonyoung and you want him to pay for a fucking well-deserved brunch. No, you want him to ask you out on a brunch. In an attempt to get a hold of yourself you hide your face in your clammy hands, close to your nose to mute the sound of your fear. Nothing is heard but your restrained breath. One, inhale, one two three four five, six, exhale. You try to change the focus of your mind. You close the toilet seat and sit on it, swallowing saliva. You press your finger on your temple, all trace of sleepiness long forgotten.

Sometimes, Seungcheol says you’re dumb. It’s true. You are. You think back to where you left your belongings, earlier, and that essay on red pigments. Hopefully no one will steal it.

You were already in the last bus when he had called you, voice loud and way too urgent for your state of mind. Asking where you were, and if you had seen Soonyoung or not. You knew very well who Soonyoung was. Jun’s roommate, a theater kid. Phases out a lot, cute. Even though you’re both humanities’ students, you barely see him on campus – you assume it has to do with your respective part time jobs taking up most of the free time you have. But you meet at parties. It feels like whenever you go out, he’s always there, and you usually spend most of the night with him, talking until you stop feeling your head and catch yourself staring at him. That’s when you go home. Dizzy, happy, horny. The feelings linger a few days, until obligations push them out at the back of your brain again. Yet, every now and then, when you are free enough, you remember how vibrant it is to be with him and your skin becomes a boiling veil and your head is full of colors.

So when Seungcheol asked you if you had seen Soonyoung, you told him you had, he was working at the library tonight too. And when he asked when he left you told him you didn’t know – your bus line ends before the library closes, and he was asleep on his table when you left. You heard Junhui’s Oh my god in the back and began to chew on the inside of your lip. And sure enough, they had asked you to come back for him, just in case. And when you had arrived back at the library, all lights off and dark, you had known it was not going to go well. From breaking a window to get back in to the rush of adrenaline induced by the flashlights of the security agents you’d noticed outside, you felt your evening spiraling in a very wrong, irrational way. You didn’t know the library as well as you thought, lost your way of few times, until exhaustion, the fear of getting caught and and increasing worry about Soonyoung’s whereabouts had you disheveled and hiding in the bathroom for a lonely brainstorming session.

Until you hear the flush. The sound of falling water crushing your train of thoughts – you hadn’t even noticed someone came in. Noticing your little cry of surprised, a very tired voice asks who is there, and you give up. Trying to make up a story that wouldn’t make you look like a lunatic, you stand up and push the door open with your feet, wondering how high would the fine be for breaking into the library – and mostly breaking that window.

Only to face Soonyoung, eyes wide, drying his hands with toilet paper. Your mouth agape, you let out a sigh. Your heart skips a beat, maybe because of him, maybe because you’re dead. You feel the embarrassment soaking in. He watches as you close your eyes, lower your head, biting your lips with a little, uneasy smile. You twist your finger until your knuckles are white, licking your lips one last time before clearing your throat.

« Sorry, hum, sorry about… That, I guess. You don’t look at him. Apparently Jun got worried about you and they asked me to check if you were okay… So I-I hum, I, hum, I came back and got scared wandering in the building… Hum. »

You hear your name in a whisper. Two warm hands cup your face, their heat on your frozen ears. They pull you a bit until you gently bump against his chest. Soonyoung whispers your name again. You feel his warmth, and you smell the sweat of his day at work. The soft fabric of his sweater hugs your cheek and you restrain yourself from leaning in more.

« I’m alright, fell asleep, that’s all. His left thumb gently strokes your cheek. Don’t you work morning shifts ? » You shoot him a surprised look from his shoulder, long enough for him to meet your gaze.

« I do. Why do you ask? » He feels your uneven breathe on his lips, it’s warm and shaky. He should kiss you now, but there are fireworks in his head, still in awe at your apparition. His hand goes to your hips, hugging you for good. He then softly takes your hand.

« Let’s go home. You can crash at my place, he tugs at your hand and you hum in agreement. Quick, he makes sure you’re not looking at him as you both head out the bathroom. I’ll call for you tomorrow. To tell them you’re sick. » He avoids your eyes before you can meet his. You should ask him more. You should refuse. Both of his offers. You watch him as he opens the fire escape door – of course – and you watch his hand holding yours. You say nothing and you walk closer to him until you arrive to the bus stop. Sure enough, your bag’s still there, on the floor, where you’ve thrown it the same way you’ve thrown your hours of sleep away. You ponder and you ponder, and Soonyoung looks at you an your face doesn’t look too bad so he doesn’t push you.

« Okay then, let’s do that. I’ll sleep at your place, and before my shift you call them saying I’m sick or dead, as you please. » He smiles and it’s like dawn already.

« Don’t you want to go back ? After, I mean ? I mean, to keep working there ? »

« I’ll do it Jesus style then. » He laughs and you finally look at him again. Even now, as you sit on the bench and he stands right in front of you, he still has your hand in his. He shifts his balance, holding your gaze, and how many times did he get the occasion to kiss you ? Proper occasions, not intoxicated ones. His free hand reaches to cup your face once more, the tips of his fingers caressing greasy strands of your hair.

He really should kiss you now.

#seventeen scenarios #hoshi imagines #seventeen imagines #hoshi scenarios #hoshi fluff #my writings #ksy #hoshi

48 notes · View notes

duckyaltalt · 4 years

Text

「herman tommeraas & cis male」⇾ mercer, ducky, the junior radcliffe student’s records show that he is a pisces and 21 years old. he is studying business, living in gorham and can be tenderhearted, nimble, compliant & taciturn. when i see him i am reminded of fear hidden behind a stoic stare, bleeding from your nose and from your gums, and the night sky with all its stars, with all its mystery and unknown . ⇽「james & 21 & est & they/them.」

hi :D this is the last of my OG characters ... the next two will b sexy n new bt they wont arrive fr a while bc i <3 need 2 hv a steady pace <3 anyways hes. rly sad so. good luck charlie <3 okay bye :D

TW CHILD ABUSE / DOMESTIC ABUSE / ABUSE, VIOLENCE, INJURY, TRAUMA, MENTAL ILLNESS, DRUGS / DRUG ABUSE / ADDICTION , GANGS.

aesthetic.

bruises; from beneath your eyes to the edge of your jaw, aligned against your stomach and the sides of your waist and the groves of your knuckles. bleeding noses and bleeding gums, spat out teeth, tattoos scarred from improper treatment, a facial scar; jagged and old, now, from above your eye to beneath your lip. worn hoodies and scuffed sneakers, sunglasses inside. the night sky, and it’s many stars, and how brightly they shone during the 2019 blackout, and wanting to be up there, with them. knowing constellations by heart. wishing to be the face on the moon. beer bottles and secret exchanges. dark alleys. fear, through the very core of your heart. fear, hidden behind a stoic stare.

basic info.

full name: donovan mercer

nickname(s): ducky but i’m 95% sure he hates the nickname it’s just. Stuck with him.

b.o.d. - march 15th, pisces :)

label(s): the allegiant, the despondent, the grifter, the malleable, the vacant, etc.

height: 5′11″

hometown: hell’s kitchen, new york

sexuality: bisexual bt make it closeted.

stats

inspired by: lip gallagher (shameless), freddie mcclair (skins), frankenstein’s monster (frankenstein), fez (euphoria) … that’s it i don’t know any other characters KJNSGLDNVLSDJNFDS

biography.

born in hell’s kitchen to vinny mercer and a mother who ran out of the hospital as fast as she could, as soon as she was able. she’d gone so quick that she’d never given ducky a middle name - just donovan. the younger brother of mercy (shoutout 2 bri)

his father’s the right-hand man of a well known mob boss named lars amaretto, and so, you can imagine the kind of environment ducky (& mercy) grew up in. weapon & drug dealings, interrogations, violence around every corner. a brutal way of living, no place to raise two children.

you can correctly assume that they grew up in a heavily abusive environment, and can imagine the sort of things the two have gone through. ducky was, maybe, the least favorite of their father’s -

- for numerous reasons, and one being that ducky’d always been a sensitive kid. kinder than his brother, and far kinder than his father - kindness is weakness, and ducky was filled with it. too much so, with big brown eyes and a smile that should’ve been able to melt ice. should’ve - but didn’t. and never did, either.

he cried often, and was punished often for it until he learned to stop crying - at least in front of their father, and mercy too, at some point. only in the comfort of his room, with doors locked and blinds drawn closed.

he dreamed, too, dreamt often. he’d been obsessed with outer space since childhood, as long as he could remember. school had once shown man landing on the moon, and ducky wanted that. wanted to be that, wanted to be there, up with the stars, discovering the unthinkable.

but it was discouraged, heavily so - projects destroyed by an angry fist only to be reconstructed to the best of ducky’s ability, with mercy’s help, all throughout the night. he’d saved up for a telescope when he was thirteen, but it’d been destroyed almost immediately when discovered. not a day went by that their father didn’t tell ducky that he was, first and foremost, stupid - and would always be.

to the point where he stopped trying, simply. his grades fluctuated frequently, and it’s a surprise that he hadn’t dropped out of high school altogether.

anyways … at the age of fifteen, he’d have enough. he was sick of the abuse, the pain - the crying behind closed doors, the sneaking around, the constant feeling of needing to escape, impending doom, anxiety attacks in the shower and in school bathrooms and at the back of the bus where nobody sat besides him because he was - that boy, the son of that man, the brother of that brute. he’d been a teenager and he’d already been an outcast by all means - an outcast in his family, no matter how hard he tried to appease vinny, and an outsider everywhere else.

the plan took months of preparation, paper ripped out from the back of his school notebook and stuffed beneath his mattress, details of his escape from a checklist of essential items to makeshift maps of bus routes to different cities.

all for nothing, the moment vinny discovered it, the edge of a map sticking out after a rushed morning.

it’d been the same day he’d gotten the nickname - ducky - the way the wound wrapped below his mouth, and the way it’d begun to heal - puckered, at first, like a duck’s bill. a better name than eyepatch, at the very least. the scar’d run from the arch of his left brow, across his eye, down his cheek, and below his lip, the entire left side of his face a bloody mess afterwards. his eye sustained injury, and not allowed to see a doctor about it, it never healed properly. corneal scarring, impairing his left eye. astronaut dreams destroyed, but not in a matter of seconds. in the matter of an hour, maybe more - and that’d been much, much worse.

he stopped trying to run away after that. tried to be more like their father, more like mercy - more brutish, less feeling. spoke less, and less. spoke hardly at all, unless spoken to first.

still didn’t matter. still lived his days in fear, still knew it’d never change. nothing would ever change.

graduated high school and had been on-and-off attending community college since then. he’d miss days at a time, flunk an entire semester’s worth of classes - gpa dropped further and further. wanted to try, but life got in the way. always got in the way.

hadn’t intended on transferring to radcliffe, but their father’d been missing for a few months then, leaving ducky to handle the drugs side of their business in hell’s kitchen - and mercy’d disappeared, too, leaving their branch in lovell completely open. in a split decision - an opportunity, and opening - something he couldn’t miss, or he’d maybe never get the opportunity again, ducky bullshitted a scholarship essay (plagiarism, tsk) and transferred to pick up where mercy’d left.

this wasn’t very well thought out, because that meant there were no mercers in new york - and lars amaretto? not a very understanding man. more of a brute than their father was, by far. to keep a story short - ducky is missing a tooth (molar, luckily, this time) and is … more rough’d up than he’d like to be, for sure. but mercy’s back, now, and he’s still at lovell, at radcliffe.

and that’s enough.

UPDATE: heehaw. mercy is gone & ducky’s still here. feeling a bit lost - dealt with a lot of shit this summer, new wounds and old wounds and just. a lot. started an underground fight club on campus for some extra cash, reasons unknown. being blackmailed by someone named rocky - someone who knows ducky is skimming cash. god. i don’t know ... danger danger danger danger. nightmare-ville. wrapped up in more walls than ever.

personality.

he’s actually very? intimidating? when you first meet him. mercy’s younger brother, with a criminal’s record almost as long as his - a scarred face and a mean resting face. it takes at least five minutes of conversation beyond small talk before it starts to weigh on your mind that maybe, he’s not as bad as he seems.

and - well, he isn’t. but he’s guarded - so guarded. more-so than mercy, because mercy’s quicker to anger, quicker to react, and ducky tries so hard to drown out the noise. but he’s not a robot, and his facial expressions can give him away in a second.

he’s seen what happened when mercy had a glimpse of something good in his life (though, it wasn’t actually good at all - mercy had someone, at least. at the very least) - and how quickly it’d all fallen, and so ducky puts a barrier between him and others. distant, as much as he can be.

it hurts, because ducky isn’t by any means antisocial. he doesn’t hate people - he wants to be normal, wants to have friends and a girlfriend - or maybe even a boyfriend, god - but he’s so afraid. ducky is, by nature, a very scared person. terrified to his very core. he knows there is always eyes on him, and mercy too, and he knows that nothing is worth getting someone else hurt.

you know him as mercy’s little brother, and he’s quiet you know that - but his name is ducky, and you think - he’s not too bad. and he knows this, knows the doubts. knows that it’ll get back to mercy, eventually, that his brother is nothing more but a pussy. so he fights more than he’d like to, against the guilt that buries itself deep within his chest with every thrown fist. he throws up, afterwards, in the garbage can outside. too much to drink, he says, rare grin - because grins are convincing, and grins with bleeding gums are intimidating. he learned that from his brother.

violence makes him sick to his very stomach. he can’t watch horror films, or even action films, without feeling queasy. there’s been more times than he can count where he’d thrown up after a fight, or after an interrogation, usually in private but in the occasional presence of mercy.

they fight, a lot, sometimes - ducky’s too soft, too weak, and it’s bad and it’s terrible and ducky knows that mercy’s afraid. for him, of their father, and his wraith. ducky knows that if mercy isn’t hard on him now, their father will be harder - and his hits will be, too. still. there’s resentment, small but there, like the flame of a match. he doesn’t know what’ll happen when there’s nothing more to burn, but he doesn’t want to find out. he’s afraid to find out.

he’s still in love with the moon and the stars, and the planet’s - and their moons, too. its subdued, now, though. a silent passion - one that is often not watered, left for rot. he sneaks into engineering lectures, occasionally, or physics - or anything that isn’t business, because he hates his major, but he knows it’s the only chance he’s got to stay at radcliffe. and that’s to follow his brother, to follow his father. a business degree treats you well, teaches you skills you’ll need to know for this type of work.

commits small acts of kindness when nobody looks. doors held open, the meals of elderly folk eating alone suddenly paid. picks up litter besides trash bins, and always cooks extra than what he needs, only to leave it in the gorham community fridge with no name, something for somebody who may need it. it’s these small things that make him feel, just the slightest, better about himself.

because god - there are layers and layers of self-loathing, the result of years of abuse. it’s a labyrinth, and he’d never speak of it - but he can’t stand his own reflection. doesn’t keep photos of his family, only a few sparingly of mercy. his room is messy, but still oddly barren. nothing on the walls except for a poster or two, sheets a standard navy blue and a row of empty liquor bottles on his windowsill.

a liar, sad to say. has little experience with. ehem. intimacy, and the bodies of others, but lies often and says that he does. mostly to his brother, but word travels quick - and he’s not nearly as much as a fuckboy as is rumored, having only been with a handful of girls, if even that. it’s better this way - if people know that he throws others away like they’re nothing. sex is uncomfortable for him, he always feels gross afterwards. wrong, sometimes.

he ghosts often, too, if he does get to talking with anybody. the moment ducky feels a spark, something pulling at his poor heart, he ghosts. he develops feelings too easily, too often than he’d like. has left many friendships without explanation, because of this. you know the priest in fleabag season 2? the scene where he comes to fleabag’s house? yeah. tht’s ducky!

has maybe half the amount of clients that mercy does, but he’s working on it. it’s his first semester at radcliffe.

pretends he doesn’t care as much as he does. pretends a lot, like there’s nothing soft to him. but a trained eye can see clearly through this. even so - even if you can see that there’s more to ducky than violence and drug deals - you’d still have to break through a dozen walls.

in the rare occasion you get him talking - i mean, talking a lot - he’ll talk about space. ramble off a dozen useless facts about dwarf stars and black holes and all of jupiter’s moons. about a video game he likes, about nothing and everything at all. but as soon as he begins, he stops - embarrassed. apologizes, shuts his mouth, disappears to wherever. anywhere but there.

uuuhhh. god. okay so ducky’s got an addiction to xanax. it’s numbing and it’s better than feeling, and he’d rather this than that and it’s. a Thing. we won’t go further into it. besides that - he does smoke weed, does try out some of their products to make sure it’s not … fucked, for their clients, but otherwise fucking hates drugs. social drinker, but still doesn’t like it a lot. hates beer but drinks it often.

overall just … he’s a soft boy, with a big heart - bigger than anybody else in his family, that’s for sure, but his exterior is far different than that, and it’s hard to tell.

purposely loses fights so that he doesn’t have to severely hurt someone. because sometimes he just - he was raised in a violent environment, and sometimes he snaps. sometimes ducky just fucking snaps. and his vision goes red, and he can’t control himself - because need to survive kicks in, and violence is all he knows. if someone pushes ducky - pushes him enough, he breaks. he fights back. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows, and that’s not an excuse - and he knows this, and god, he’s so tired. he is so. tired.

wanted connections.

clients… first n foremost. he needs people to deal to. i don’t think he handles the Hard Shit like mercy does, but like coke and mdma? works for him.

f…riend..s?… like it’s so hard for ducky to be sincere with people but if you don’t mind like … an emotionally distant man who doesn’t even hit 6′ then maybe? he’s your guy? maybe you can break him down a little? chip away at his cold shoulder?

a close…r friend… maybe not like. the best of friends. but at least one normal friend whose world does not revolve around fucking drugs and violence would be nice for ducky. someone he can be a little soft with, as a treat.

hook-ups… not many, because ducky doesn’t really enjoy sex too much but y’know. that’s just how it is. he do be having needs, tho. KDSJGSHDKLFSE god.

fisticuffs!… someone he got into a fistfight with. multiple people he’s gotten into fights with. he’s probably lost them (on purpose) but - mayhaps, some of them, he did not?

gorham roommate… god… i don’t know what these two cld get up to but! maybe give him a sexuality panic but who knows.

unrequited feelings… there’s probably a few of these. whether people are drawn to his fucking ~mysterious~ demeanor (he just has fucking anxiety, man) or mayhaps. mayhaps he has the feelings.

flirtations… he’s never been in a relationship so i can’t really include exes, but he can flirt with people i’d like to think … when he’s drunk. :-)

ghostees… everybody he’s ever fucking ghosted because he’s stupid and is afraid of both friendship and relationships and romance and platonic? feelings of warmth? so sometimes he panics and ghosts people forever. :) spite!

new yorkians… who are familiar with his family or the business they have there

enemies… god. i’m sure he has a lot of these even without attempting to make them. just like, by association, you know? sometimes ducky hates people because mercy does. sometimes he hates people because mercy likes them. JKSDGDSJGFSNLKF

i won’t lie i’m very tired and am having a Troubled Time coming up with connections please. bare with me.

annoyances… i don’t know if ducky can get annoyed very easily but? thorns in his side? something lighthearted? alternately, something Not lighthearted and then ducky :/ goes rogue JKDNGDSNLFK

idk something soft… literally anything soft. please :) give me something soft and cute :) and peaceful and not stressful :)

something ANGSTY and AWFUL… literally. i don’t know. duality of man.

ok i have been awake fr too long i’m going to bed goodnight.

#ruhqintro #child abuse tw #domestic violence tw #abuse tw #violence tw #injury tw #drugs tw #trauma tw #addiction tw #drug abuse tw #gangs tw

9 notes · View notes

devinsfm · 4 years

Text

joe keery. cis male. he/him. ／ jack devin just pulled up blasting video killed the radio star by the buggles — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty - four year old radio show host, i’ve heard they’re really impulsive, but that they make up for it by being so captivating. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say obscure vintage horror comics, blurry photographs of mysterious figures in the woods, and vivid descriptions of spine - chilling tales . here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( sam, 23, est, she/her )

hey there, demons ! *ba tum tss* i’m sam and i never do this, but i really felt like it was time for a change, so i drew lots of inspiration from some of my favorite ocs and i love what i’ve come up with ! character info is under the cut and please feel free to message me if you would like to plot !

i. stats

𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢: jackson willard devin

𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰: jack, spooky guy, the night watchman

𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫: salem, massachusetts

𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔥: ocotber 31st, 1995

𝔷𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔠: scorpio

𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: demisexual

𝔬𝔠𝔠𝔲𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: host of the graveyard shift, a radio program airing every weeknight from 12am to 5am

𝔭𝔬𝔰. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: captivating, witty, resolute.

𝔫𝔢𝔤. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: impulsive, gauche, naive.

ii. history

jackson willard “jack” devin was born on halloween day ( yes, really ) in salem massachusetts ( yes, really ). his mother stayed home with him as he was growing up while his father is a boston cop turned sheriff of the county and he’s an only child.

outside of the popular tourist spots, his hometown has a very close - knit, stuck in the 80s vibe. it’s the sort of place where everyone knows everyone for their entire lives because no one ever leaves and no one new ever moves in. phone and internet signals are nearly impossible to come by, so the local arcade and the video store still have quite a booming business in the year 2020. jack grew up in a not - so - typical small town suburban gothic environment, his dad’s income being just enough for them to get by every month.

he was an energetic kid who cycled through all sorts of interests, trying out everything from little league ( disaster ) to music lessons ( not as much of a disaster, but he wound up getting bored of it ). nothing seemed to really stick until he got his first horror comic : a vintage issue of tales from the crypt with tattered, yellowing pages. he was five years old and paid five cents for it at an elderly neighbor’s yard sale and from that moment on he was hooked. it started with the comics, but he quickly expanded his horizons to movies, books, and television in the genre of horror.

he got intro drawing and that was the only thing besides his newfound interest in horror that he could sit still for. at first he would just try to re - draw the panels in his comic books, but soon he was drawing anything and everything that caught his interest and he was getting good. he was being homeschooled by his mother at the time, but once friends and family and, well, everyone took notice of his skill, they were encouraging his parents to nurture his talent.

his parents fought about it. his dad didn’t see the value in his skill and wanted him to instead focus on academics, aspiring towards his son one day becoming a lawyer or a businessman or even following in his footsteps. jack never wanted that for himself. he was homeschooled by his mom up until then and she believed in him. it was with her blessing that he would go to a real school for the first time at the age of fourteen, starting off his freshman year at a high school that was a thirty minute train ride away in boston and catered exclusively to youth who demonstrated an exceptional talent in some area of the fine arts.

jack did well in school, but his grades probably would have been a lot better still if he didn’t start purposely acting out as his relationship with his dad got worse and worse. he started skipping classes, getting caught trespassing in cemeteries at 2am, and smoking a lot of weed.

when it came time for college, jack planned to attend art school. he swears he did. he looked a few schools on the west coast to get away from his dad for a few years yikes and planned to apply, but on the deadline date he got so high that he forgot to submit his portfolios. yes, really.

he loaded up his van ( a turquiose monstrosity he painted to look like the mystery machine ) and headed out to california anyway after telling his parents that he would be attending UCLA. of course, they quickly found it that it was a lie and his dad was furious. the two got into a huge fight over the phone and things were said. the result is that jack and his father haven’t spoken to each other ever since.

he did lots of odd jobs while he was on the road and basically lived in his van, which didn’t change right away when he decided to settle in LA, but he eventually got a job fetching coffee for the late night employees at a local radio station.

it was the typical, cliché story : the regular late night host called out of work at the last minute, there was no one else around and they were going to be on air in ten seconds. jack was thrown in front of the microphone and told to think fast !

he did, and the listeners loved him for it. whether it was his ramblings about horror movies or his thick boston accent or his reckless use of swear words on live radio, he turned out to be a massive hit. the successful night earned him a gig as an occasional substitute deejay, and with each broadcast he grew more and more popular, and about two years ago he was finally given his own program.

the graveyard shift is a radio program that airs every weeknight from 12am - 5am in the los angeles area and on apps such as iheartradio. jack hosts the show as his ( thinly veiled ) alter ego the night watchmen and discusses topics such as the paranormal, conspiracy theories, and all things horror. it’s one of the most popular programs of the time slot in the country.

it’s something that he never expected or picturing himself doing, but now he can’t imagine doing anything else. he’s become really passionate about revitalizing the field and bringing radio into the 21st century. he signed a HUGE contract with the studio when his show first started and now he’s a quite well known radio personality in the area and across the country.

iii. extras

huge stoner. high as fuck 90% of the time, and the other 10% of the time he’s probably still high, just not as fuck.

well known for his on air antics. he’ll light a joint in the middle of his radio show, he’ll prank call a friend and broadcast it to the entire city, he’ll curse in every single sentence and skate by on the after hours excuse when he’s reprimanded for it. he’s so outlandish and bizarre and like nothing that’s ever been heard on the radio before, and it just draws people in.

he often seems shy in person, but it’s more like he’s just a little socially awkward, something which also shines through in occasional non - malicious but blunt remarks and general lack of regard for what people think of him. he really just...doesn’t care.

genuinely seems to believe it’s either halloween day and / or the year 1986 at any given moment as that’s about as recent as his pop culture references get. he’s never heard of the k*rdashians, he doesn’t know what the mcu is, and the phrase yeet means absolutely nothing to him. mention any of it to him and he’ll just stare blankly bc he honestly doesn’t have a clue.

HOWEVER, he did start the area 51 meme from last summer. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

still draws. especially if he has to still for a stretch of time, then he’ll take out his latest sketchbook ( he goes through a lot of them ) and start doodling. he’s still quite good, mostly in his favored comic - esque style.

BIG CHAOTIC ENERGY and ZERO IMPULSE CONTROL

a chatterbox with friends but don’t be fooled...he’s been giving his own dad the silent treatment for almost seven ( 7 ) years now. it’s his preferred method of expressing anger towards someone because he isn’t really a fan of confrontation, but he’s maybe a liiiittle bit stubborn.

most of the time he’s a really easygoing person, a good friend and very loyal to the people he cares about. well - meaning, not the best at advice but he’s more likely to try and cheer a person up anyway.

he has a pet pied ball python named the crypt keeper ( tkc for short ) who he sometimes just carries with him because he likes to just chill wrapped around jack’s hand and arm.

iv. wanted connections

maternal or paternal cousins ( their grandparents probably live in boston or new england but otherwise anything goes for this )

close friends

friends

guests on his radio show

fans / haters of his radio show

people who don’t like him / find him annoying

exes ( 1 - 2, can be on good or bad terms )

“casually dating” but it might get real complicated soon - allie james

( these are just ideas and i’m trash at coming up with stuff, so please don’t feel limited by what’s listed here. )

#excess:intro #drugs tw #i decided that i needed something new but i just ''created'' this ''new character'' instead #countdown until i mess up his name has officially begun

11 notes · View notes

devinfm · 4 years

Text

hey there, demons! *ba tum tss* i’m sam and i also write parker ( @prkrfm ) which is the best place to contact me for plotting!

i. stats

𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢: jackson willard devin

𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰: jack, spooky guy, the night watchman

𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫: salem, massachusetts

𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔥: ocotber 31st, 1995

𝔷𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔠: scorpio

𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: demisexual

𝔬𝔠𝔠𝔲𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: host of the graveyard shift, a radio program airing every weeknight from 12am to 5am

𝔭𝔬𝔰. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: captivating, witty, resolute.

𝔫𝔢𝔤. 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔰: impulsive, gauche, naive.

ii. history

the graveyard shift is a radio program that airs every weeknight from 12am - 5am in the los angeles area and on apps such as iheartradio. jack hosts the show as his ( thinly veiled ) alter ego the night watchman and discusses topics such as the paranormal, conspiracy theories, and all things horror. it’s one of the most popular programs of the time slot in the country.

iii. extras

huge stoner. high as fuck 90% of the time, and the other 10% of the time he’s probably still high, just not as fuck.

HOWEVER, he did start the area 51 meme from last summer. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

BIG CHAOTIC ENERGY and ZERO IMPULSE CONTROL

a chatterbox with friends but don’t be fooled…he’s been giving his own dad the silent treatment for almost seven ( 7 ) years now. it’s his preferred method of expressing anger towards someone because he isn’t really a fan of confrontation, but he’s maybe a liiiittle bit stubborn.

he has a pet pied ball python named the crypt keeper ( tkc for short ) who he sometimes just carries with him because he likes to just chill wrapped around jack’s hand and arm.

iv. wanted connections

maternal or paternal cousins ( their grandparents probably live in boston or new england but otherwise anything goes for this )

close friends

friends

guests on his radio show

fans / haters of his radio show

people who don’t like him / find him annoying

exes ( 1 - 2, can be on good or bad terms )

“casually dating” but it might get real complicated soon - allie james

( these are just ideas and i’m trash at coming up with stuff, so please don’t feel limited by what’s listed here. )

#excess:intro #just posting for reference!

1 note · View note

mcwriting · 5 years

Text

Dance Dance Revolution

Welllllll the other night I couldn't sleep and wrote basically this entire thing in my head. It’s kinda based on how I feel about dance auditions and also slightly inspired by a dance moms clip I saw where the girls auditioned to be in a MattyB music video and it caused ~drama~. The reader description is kind of based on myself bc even though I’ve been dancing forever, I’m definitely bigger than a size 2 and it usually surprises people when I tell them about my dancing.

Fandom: Tom Holland (is this even a fandom anymore honestly)

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Setting: A dance studio, duh

Word Count: 2,144

Warnings: bratty teenage girls?

Rating: idk fam, but it’s pretty tame

Background: You are a dancer at a small company who does it for the pure joy of dancing. When your studio is chosen to be a part of Tom Holland’s next movie, tensions mount between dancers as each hopes to be selected to dance with him on camera.

Yeah I’m really bad at summaries okay I’m sorry

reader is at least 18, and maybe a sr in high school or a freshman in college.

---

You took a big gulp of water before wiping some sweat from your forehead. You and your 12 classmates had been given few minutes to recover from barre before heading to center port de bras.

You were one of the advanced dancers at the studio, having been doing ballet since early childhood along with other genres like contemporary and hip hop. Unlike some of the other girls, though, you didn't necessarily “look” the part of a typical dancer. You weren't tall and flat-stomached, but it never hindered you from performing and advancing in skill.

As everyone began heading towards the center, the door was opened by none other than the studio owner, Alyssa. She had a wide smile on her face as she quietly shut the door behind her. She asked your teacher for permission to interrupt class a moment and then moved to the center of the mirrors.

“Girls, I have an important announcement,” she began, causing everyone to look around in confusion as she continued.

“Our studio has been selected to be filmed in a new movie starring Tom Holland!”

With that exclamation, there followed gasps and squeals, and you couldn't help the smile that stretched across your cheeks and the butterflies in your stomach.

“Wait, wait. Now before you get too excited, I have one more announcement,” Alyssa interjected, exclaiming, “In only a couple short weeks, we will be hosting an audition for one of you to dance a duet with Tom, and even if you aren't chosen, all thirteen of you will still be onscreen in the class shots!”

Everyone started jumping around and squealing even more in excitement.

With that, she left you to the mercy of your teacher, and none of you could help but feel ecstatic about the situation as you finished up ballet class.

The following Saturday, you turned on your favorite playlist and began stretching in one of the smaller studios. Very few people other than Alyssa and the people working in the attached dance store would be at the studio today and you had been given permission to work alone. Being one of the oldest dancers at the studio definitely had its perks with opportunities like this.

You also knew that some of the people working on the movie would be meeting with Alyssa, so you hoped that you could be left alone for a while to just dance.

After warming up, you decided to freestyle dance for a while, just moving and letting the music take over you. You combined contemporary and ballet moves, doing some turns and jumps along with floor work.

When the song you were dancing to ended, you stopped to catch your breath and get water when you noticed some people peeking through the window watching. You blushed slightly as you looked down at your attire: black work-out leggings and a tank top, hair thrown messily into a bun with wispies sticking out everywhere.

You ultimately decided to pause the music and step into the hallway to say hi, and you found Alyssa standing with four people: One woman, two middle-aged men, and Tom Holland himself.

“Y/n, these are some of the most important people working on the movie,” Alyssa said as you shook hands with everyone.

“You looked amazing in there,” the woman commented, garnering praise from the other people as well.

“Thank you, that means so much! Honestly, I really wasn't even dancing, that was just some improv,” you explained.

“I can’t imagine how lovely it’d be to see you perform choreo, then,” Tom added, causing you to chuckle in reply.

“I think I can speak for everyone here when I say that I hope you'll be auditioning in a couple weeks,” said one of the men. You nodded and said,

“Of course, but I’m sure there will be stiff competition. I think we’ll make the choice hard for you all!”

With that, you bid them adieu and reentered the studio, pulling up a playlist of songs that you had choreographed dances to. You performed one of your favorite contemporary pieces, one that you would be doing in an upcoming show.

After finishing, sweaty and a little tired, you accidentally made eye contact through the mirror with Tom, who sent a wink before following Alyssa and the group down the hall to her office.

---

Two days later, you were getting ready for class and filling a water bottle when one of the other girls came up to you.

“I heard you got a head start on the audition,” she stated, arms crossed.

You looked around and furrowed your brows.

“Um, I mean, I had some private studio time this weekend and the people touring with Alyssa saw me dance for a minute. Even if they had watched me a lot, though, I’m sure none of the people there will be on the audition panel.”

She gave you a look before answering with, “I guess we’ll just have to see,” then turned and walked into the studio.

---

Two weeks later, you were standing nervously in the waiting room, wearing a black leo and tights, a paper number “11″ pinned to your stomach.

Over the past few weeks, tension had become thick with the day’s impending audition, and the girls (and some of the guys) of the studio had split on whether or not you had somehow cheated by accidentally meeting the movie heads. Along with the advanced dancers, some of the intermediates that were allowed to audition had also been swayed to see you as the bad guy.

Thankfully they hadn't discovered that you met Tom, and a good majority of people stuck by you.

Finally everyone was called into the main studio for the ballet audition and you felt your stomach drop when you saw the panel: Tom, the other 3 people that you met, and two people that you guessed were choreographers. Alyssa was also sitting in and your teacher would be running the audition.

Alyssa then asked the panel to introduce themselves from left to right, starting with Tom, the director (the man that asked you to audition), executive producer (the other man), the casting director (the woman that complimented you), and the head and assistant choreographers.

You suddenly felt extremely nervous. Alyssa was right, the four people you had danced for really were the most important people in your life right now, and after everyone settled at the barre, the audition began.

Tom’s eyes caught yours for a second in the middle of your plie combination and he grinned, causing you to perform more and gain some confidence.

A few hours later, you had gone through ballet, pointe, contemporary, hip hop, and musical theatre auditions and everyone was waiting for call backs. With some of the studio still split, you moved to the back of the room and talked with one of the guys that you were close with.

The guys had also auditioned because they would be in the class scenes, even if they weren't doing a duet with Tom, per say (although the idea of any of those guys doing a major piece with Tom was kind of funny to imagine).

You leaned in and whispered into his ear,

“The three people closest to Tom were the ones that watched me dance a few weeks ago.”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“There’s more. Tom was there too, and he obviously recognized me. But you can't tell a soul about this,” you threatened, earning a nod in confirmation. You talked for a while longer until Alyssa came out holding a folder.

“Alright everyone! You are all going to be in the film, but unfortunately only one can be the lead. Right now, I only have one callback number but please stick around for a little bit if you aren't called just in case. The lucky number isssss...” she said pausing.

You looked at the girls around you, guessing who it would be. It was most likely going to be one of the girls with the ballerina bodies and model-level faces. You crossed your arms as Alyssa called out,

“Eleven!”

You looked around trying to remember who 11 was when you felt a nudge. Your friend was elbowing your side and he said

“Y/n, that’s you!”

You were shocked and finally stuck an arm up to alert Alyssa that it was you. As you walked past the girls, you heard the naysayers grumbling, whispering “told ya so!” and “I can't believe this!” to each other while your friends encouraged you.

The panel stood as you entered the room, Alyssa shutting the door promptly behind herself to keep everyone else out while you went to shake everyone’s hands.

The panel praised you for your performance and asked that you and Tom would partner a little bit to make sure you fit well. They especially liked that you were shorter than him, even in pointe shoes, and hoped that you danced similarly.

He came around the table in black joggers, a grey t-shirt, and some black ballet flats, ready to dance. The head choreographer asked you mostly to do contemporary steps, like you rolling over his back and some floor slides.

She then asked that you did a lift to see what both of you were capable of. That’s when you felt really nervous. Other than when you were a small child, you had never been the person picked up in lifts, and actually, because you were pretty strong, you were almost always the base for lifts.

You were about to protest when Tom swept you off your feet, lifting you easily into a bridal-style carry. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck and you squealed, eyes suddenly meeting his, inches away. He smiled and smoothly whispered,

“Don’t you trust me, darling?”

You smiled and nodded, and he put you down carefully. The choreographer then asked you to stand with your left leg in an arabesque while Tom stood behind you. He hooked his left elbow under the upper part of your thigh and wrapped his right arm around your stomach.

You were hyper-aware of his touch and he made sure that you were alright before you tried to jump while he lifted. The first attempt, you jumped too early and he lifted too late, causing you both to fall over and erupt into laughter, apologizing a hundred times to each other.

The second attempt though, you both were in sync, and when he got you up, you positioned your legs into a fish lift as he spun you. At the end, he dipped you into a fish dive, then gently set you down into your splits and you spun on the ground, standing to face him.

The panel clapped and murmured before the casting director finally exclaimed four fateful words,

“You've got the part!”

As Alyssa and the panel figured out paper work, you turned to Tom.

“We never properly met, I’m y/n.”

He smiled and replied,

“I know. I asked Alyssa about you that day we toured. I couldn't keep my eyes off you then or today. You’re quite the talent.”

You blushed as the two of you got to know each other, excited that you would be dancing with the man you had been crushing on for ages.

---

After the casting process, there were two weeks of rehearsals for both the company and yours and Tom’s duet. Most of the girls ended up letting go of the idea that you had “cheated” and instead became overcome with excitement.

You and Tom had enjoyed your private rehearsals together and when the day for shooting came, you felt so comfortable with Tom that you almost forgot there were other people in the studio. At the end of the day, both of you were exhausted and sweaty, but extremely happy with the result.

You were now sitting on the ground by your dance bag, untying your pointe shoes and wiggling your toes, relieved to finally free your feet. Suddenly you felt a warm hand on your shoulder and you turned to find Tom smiling at you.

“You were incredible, love,” he said as he helped pull you to your feet. His arms wrapped around you into a sweaty hug. Into your neck he said, “I can’t wait to bring you to the premiere.”

You pulled away, surprised.

“The premiere? What do you mean?” you questioned as he smirked.

“I want you to be my date to the premiere. Of course, that’s months away, so maybe you could settle with dinner for now?” he asked, looking up innocently.

A laugh bubbled out of you and you nodded.

“Tom Holland, I would love nothing more than to have dinner with you, no premiere required.”

With that, you began a happy relationship that resulted in many, many dates, including more than just one movie premiere.

---

A/N: lol bad ending as always. Hope you all enjoy this dumb thing I wrote. If you’re new, please check out some of my other works under the Tom tags or even my other fandom stuff. Love you guys as always!

#dance dance revolution #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #reader #tom holland dancing #tom holland ballet

90 notes · View notes

marystudies · 6 years

Text

A LONG ASS LIST OF TIPS FOR HIGH SCHOOL: FRESHMAN TO SENIOR YEAR LETS GO

Disclaimer: This is just from my experience, so these might not all apply to you!

Freshman Year

ok, ok, freshman year can be scary but don’t let that get to you

dont worry about upperclassmen being rude/teasing you

it’ll most likely happen, but I’ve never seen an upperclassman tease a freshman with the intention to really hurt them

one day you’ll be them so dw

on the topic of upperclassmen, make some older friends!!! (through classes, sports, etc.) it’s so nice to have someone give you tips and help you through high school

dont expect your friend group to stay the same lol

BUT ITS A GOOD THING I PROMISE YOU

I was scared of changing my friend group, so even though I wasn’t being treated too well, it wasn’t until senior year when I really made a change and I wish I did it earlier

be open to meeting new people, everyone is scared just like you and looking for more friends

I don’t think its neccessary for freshman to become sUPER involved in clubs and all that but at least get a feel for whats out there

try out for a sport if you play one!

this goes for all of high school, not just freshman year, but I regret not being as involved as I could’ve been

Go to school events like football games and dances! School spirit is considered weird in middle school but its cool in high school

take your classes seriously, your teachers are right - high school is much harder than middle school (but it’s not too bad if you stay organized!)

my freshman year GPA was my lowest like english really caught me off guard (properly formatted, 5 paragraph essays being 50% of your grade??? a concept.)

so my cumulative GPA was brought down

I think most freshman don’t have access to AP classes to boost your GPA or anything, but if you’re looking to push yourself take an honors class or 2! (if available)

Sophomore Year

wooohooo ur no longer a freshman

I’d take at least 1 AP class if you can

my sophomore year I took AP Human Geo - which I really loved, and it also wasn’t too hard

a lot of sophomores take AP World which is a BITCH of a class

BUT I wouldn’t recommend taking Honors World because you don’t get the GPA boost, you don’t get college credits (unless you take the AP Euro test or something), and it’s almost just as hard

this is a bit random - but when you’re taking Algebra 2 (which was my sophomore year) PLS PAY ATTENTION math builds on itself don’t fuck yourself over

take the PSAT if you want (I honestly don’t remember if I took it freshman year too but eh), but seriously its not required

start thinking about college (I know it’s the last thing you want to do)

just little things like

when do I want to take the SAT/ACT?

would I like a small school or a big school?

What will I be able to put on my college applications?

like if you do community service through a club/church/etc then great!!! sports? YEs

can’t think of anything? Join a club! Try out for a sport (it’s not too late) Find something that interests you

you’re probably pretty situated socially now but never be afraid to get to know those classmates/”school friends” better!

Junior Year

so junior year is commonly thought of as the hardest year of highschool

which is partially true (we’ll get there later)

but anyways, seriously buckle your seatbelt and get ready to work your ass off because THIS YEAR COUNTS, LADIES AND GENTS

Take AP classes if available

I took AP Psych (WOULD HIGHLY RECOMMEND) and Honors PreCalc (coming from regular Algebra 2)

Psych gave me college credit and a GPA boost

HPC gave me a GPA boost for UCs

It was a bitCH of a class but it made AP calc a breeze

If you haven’t started already, start prepping for SAT/ACT and then take them

tutoring is very helpful, but it can be expensive

I’ve seen studyblrs post about free prep through Kahn Academy and other stuff, so you might have to do a bit of digging but there are tons of resources out there

TAKE PRACTICE TESTS

take one of each first - then focus on the test you did better on

one of my biggest regrets is taking SAT prep instead of ACT prep because my ACT (which I didn’t do specialized prep for) ended up equivalent to my SAT (which I did prep for)

the more you take em the better you get

Studyblr is gr8 for finding test taking tips

If you’re not happy with your score, just take it again! I only took each one once but most people improve their scores if they take it again

I recommend visiting a few universities when you’re on break! Get a feel for what you like and what you don’t like (size, location, public/private, etc) and what kind of school you could get accepted to

you don’t want to end up applying to a billion schools that you wouldn’t even want to go to

private schools like it when you express interest by visiting

so if you’re visiting, make sure you check in so you can be in their system

END OF JUNIOR YEAR - ASK FOR LETTERS OF REC NOW! BY THE FIRST WEEK OF SENIOR YEAR A LOT OF TEACHERS ARE ALREADY TAKING ON TOO MANY LETTERS!

Senior Year (buckle up this section is the longest)

but YAY UR A SENIOR

DO FUN SENIOR YEAR THINGS like my school has all kinds of events for seniors and it’s so great

Remember when I said junior year is the hardest? Yeah well no... 1st semester senior year is SO MUCH WORSE ur in for a lot of fun

Ok seriously - don’t let senioritis get to you first semester

Still take challenging classes! Schools are looking for progression in difficulty

Those mid year transcripts REALLY DO MATTER!

College apps, man

Make sure you’re communicating with your counselor to make sure you have everything ready and on track

like file the FAFSA and CSS (used for lots of privates)

tbh I didn’t think it would help me a lot but it (the CSS) actually did so just do it even if you think you’ll get nothing

Ok so hopefully at this point you have a feel for what schools you are interested in

Things to consider: location, price, size, public/private, difficulty of the application, ranking, program/major you are applying to, campus, overall vibe

I didn’t do any interviews but maybe look into it

Don’t get too comfortable and set reasonable goals - apply to several safety schools, a few good options/could go either way schools, but also a few “reaches”

ESSAYS

I’m no college counselor, but don’t just wing your essays without having an adult/professional look over them

I got lucky - my mom is a professional writer so my family didn’t pay for a counselor

Do your research - you can find so much information about what schools are looking for in essays

If an essay is “optional” DO IT it’s really not optional lol

Keep in mind - these essays are nothing like what you’ve been taught. You don’t have to (and often SHOULDNT) write a 5 paragraph essay with topic sentences relating back to the thesis and evidence, etc. its much more free

think “What is the story I am going to tell?”

get creative - this is hard and takes some time

Think: How am I going to separate myself from thousands of applicants? What is a story that ONLY I can tell?

DO EARLY ACTION FOR AS MANY SCHOOLS AS POSSIBLE!!!

such a relief to knowing you got in somewhere in like,,,, november

acceptance rates are higher for EA

the order from highest to lowest is ED > EA > RD

Early Decision scares me (schools will say they give equal scholarship consideration but lol thats a lie)

but if you have your heart set on a school go ahead

apply to other school just in case, you don’t want to get stuck starting all your apps when a lot of students have already turned them all in

Now that you’re done with applications (whew), the acceptances (and rejection) will start coming!! yay!

ok first for acceptances

those first acceptances are so cool like YAY YOU GOT INTO COLLEGE IM PROUD OF U

as soon as you get your first acceptances really start researching the school more and deciding if you’d REALLY want to go there or not

i know this is hard bc you haven't heard back from all your schools but it’ll make choosing a school so much easier

sadly, not all acceptances are happy tho

like I got accepted to my #1 school but they gave me no money so it was impossible to go

I was so emo for a couple days there

BUT! If you’re serious about it, try appealing for financial aid but keep your expectations low

ok now waitlists

these can be a bit nerve wracking

PLEASE apply for the waitlist right away

at some schools if you dont within a couple days, your application might get thrown out

aaaaand rejections

i dont have a lot to say about this but please dont be too hard on yourself

sometimes its just not meant to be and thats ok!

NOW PICKING A COLLEGE

def the most difficult and mentally draining part for me lol

make sure you really map out everything to consider

net cost (tuition, room & board, books, travel, personal expenses, etc.), size, location, etc.

I personally had this idea that I’d end up at a big school far from home but I’m going to a small school close to home and I’m still super excited!!! So make sure you give every school a second look

APPLY FOR SCHOLARSHIPS!

the essays aren’t usually too bad and sometimes you can just rework your college app essays

you can find them online, your school might have some (like PTA scholarships, band scholarships, etc.)

ok this is the time everyone really gets senioritis

i almost didn’t get senioritis at all lol just because slacking off stressed me out

but please be smart about it dont get rescinded

and lastly have fun! high school really does fly by, it’ll be over before you know it

#lol the senior year part is so much longer than the others #studyblr #high school #high school tips #study tips #studyspo #study motivation

525 notes · View notes

ellvie · 5 years

Text

ELVIE CROFT, twenty four years old. youtuber and ghost with the most on beloved emmy award winning netflix series ghost gallery. interests include horror movies, the 80s, halloween, and the absolute abomination that is black licorice. the smartest dipshit you’ll ever meet.

elvin tupelo croft. prefers elvie, but el is okay if you’re a close friend or family member. is extremely sensitive about the fact that he was almost named elvis after the famous musician because his dad is OBSESSED.

born in the salem, massachusetts on halloween day. descendant of an accused witch, son of an actual witch, and practices himself albeit casually. his dad is the county district attorney while his mom owns a small shop in town, so they were...lower middle class i guess. they always had enough to meet their needs, but couldn’t afford any extra spending or splurging. as he got older he’d go on to work small jobs around town, most notably as a janitor in the local movie theater. so no silver spoon or high horse here.

margo massey has been his best friend since birth. her maternal grandparents disowned her mom when she fell pregnant with margo, so elvie’s dad gave them some legal help and the rest is history. they’ve been best friends for longer than either of them can even remember, true ride or dies for life. if you don’t like margo then elvie doesn’t like you and that’s that on that. the antics of elvie croft and margo massey were famous in salem long before they were famous on netflix.

so he tried lots of different activities as a kid. he was a boy scout, he took music lessons, he was absolutely awful at tee ball, but nothing really stuck. he’s always had a lot of energy and a short attention span, so he gets bored of stuff pretty easily.

something his parents and teachers would often notice about him was that he’s very smart. he’s a fast learner, one of those annoying types who seems to just do well in school and get perfect grades without even trying? that’s him. some people have even thrown around words like brilliant and genius. tbh they probably aren’t far off, but elvie hates being called smart to the point where he?? intentionally dumbs himself down 24/7 and passes it off as a joke

ofc that didn’t stop from being mercilessly bullied all throughout school. he had braces and glasses and chronic nosebleeds and didn’t play any sports and only had one friend who was picked on just as badly so he was definitely a favorite target of his peers.

fortunately elvie has much thicker skin than most people seem to realize. he doesn’t...really care what people think about him. at all. oh so what you don’t like him. he’ll have a good long cry about it while his emmy award is getting polished. not that he’s arrogant bc he honestly isn’t. it’s just that he knows his worth and your opinion of him isn’t going to change that.

he was fifteen when the rich & snobby abernathy family bought a huge summer home in salem and he met their daughter, astrea...it was love at first sight and to this day he’s never loved anybody else or even dated anybody else. their summer romance turned long distance when she went home in the fall. they were insistent upon not letting anything break them apart and aside from about a year where they weren’t together, nothing ever did. elvie croft has been dating the same girl since he was fifteen and just keeps falling more and more in love with her.

it should be noted that astrea’s parents absolutely hate him and they always have. he didn’t do anything except come from a poor no name family, which was more than enough for them, so elvie was resorting to climbing through her window and helping her sneak out in the middle of the night so they could see each other for even five minutes. it’s a regular romeo juliet story. how disgustingly lovesick and On Brand™ for them.

a year later he started his youtube channel at the age of sixteen with margo & the camera that he got for his birthday. it’s basically buzzfeed unsolved supernatural. he’s the believer, she’s the skeptic, and they go looking for ghosts! it was an instant hit. with every video posted they were gaining subscribers in the dozens, then the hundreds, then the thousands. they weren’t even in college yet and they were already two of the most popular & beloved names in youtuber fandom.

attended nyu once they did get to college. tbh elvie didn’t really wanna go?? he doesn’t like school, so he technically studied business and was top of his class as per usual, but he was mostly just there to party and hang out with margo and finally get to be with astrea all the time. he loves her so much like i can’t stress this enough.

too bad for him bc he got DUMPED in their last year of college. astrea broke up with him and then immediately went to saudi arabia for a year. he didn’t take it well at all, but fortunately he’d be distracted soon enough.

elvie and margo were approached by netflix producers who basically wanted to turn their youtube channel into a tv show which turned out to be a really smart move because ghost gallery is a HUGE HIT. everyone’s seen it. everyone loves it. no one can seem to shut up about it. basically think of the hype around stranger things and you’ll understand how much everyone loves ghost gallery.

they’ve put out two seasons so far & are just about to start filming for season three which is scheduled for a late october 2019 release and elvie absolutely loves his show so he couldn’t be happier about it!

and now for a few other fast facts bc i SOMEHOW feel like i haven’t covered everything yet!

loves horror movies, halloween, and scaring people. by the age of twelve he was getting full grown adults to scream and run away from him in terror while he just laughed and laughed bc it was the best thing ever to him.

it’s been a running joke all his life that he doesn’t seem to be afraid of anything and who knows? maybe he isn’t.

his other major interest? everything 80s. tbh at least 90% of everything he’s ever said is an 80s movie reference, often too obscure for most people to even catch.

he’s extremely rich bc he spends almost none of the money he earns from youtube and netflix. he grew up poor enough to have the mentality that he can’t just go around wasting money on whatever he wants even though he very well could without even making a serious dent in his bank account. at worst he might impulse buy some extra candy or smth but nothing more expensive than that

they type of eccentric genius who will solve a whole rubik’s cube in .0000000001 seconds like it’s nothing and act like it isn’t even a big deal bc he’s already distracted by something else entirely. it probs gives people a little whiplash tbh

PERSONALITY: elvie is nice, but he’s not for everyone. eccentric is probably the best word to describe him. he doesn’t do things the way everyone else does. he’s extremely hyperactive and very ~out there~ which is a combination that’s just Too Much for some people. he tends to come across as either witty and endearingly charming or loud and flat out annoying. so he’s kinda terrible at making friends but it doesn’t stop him from trying. in general he’s well liked if only bc almost everyone loves ghost gallery, but ofc there are outliers so pls feel free to hate him. tl;dr he’s completely harmless but maybe a little annoying, will just ramble at you for hours about ghosts and horror movies and the 80s and assume that you’re friends because of it.

CONNECTIONS

family

maternal cousin - willow sparks and alexandra blakely (distant)

paternal cousin, constant bickering - river espinoza

romantic

wife - astrea croft

unrequited crush - open

platonic

best friend, might bicker sometimes but ride or die 5ever - margo massey

acquaintances - torrance keynes, saywer duncan, open to more.

close friends - open to several.

family friends - rosalind cox, open to more.

friends - jordan parkes, wren daily, reign monroe, sahar santini, genesis iver, ingrid larson, marialena goldstein.

online → irl friends - ginny baker

unlikely friends - eden o’ connor, open to more,

frenemies - beckley bovér, open to more.

negative

enemies - angel almeida, open to more.

bad terms - carson king, open to more.

ex friends - luna reyes, anastasia sangster.

he doesn’t tend to have a lot of enemies but whew he absolutely despises angel so if you like him then elvie probably doesn’t like you.

#× ❪ ⸰ about elvie. ⸰ ❫#this is an actual novel #anyway #this is basically a brand new intro #with his connections included #mostly filled but i figure that helps to figure out new stuff #feel free to message if you wanna plot or re plot #if you really read this whole thing #why

16 notes · View notes

muslimsonic · 6 years

Text

ADHD: Executive Dysfunction

Alright, so I’ve been seeing a lot of stuff about how people struggle with understanding what ADHD is, how it operates, and how it differs from the experiences of the middle 50% [25%-75%] considered the average. And I didn’t research ADHD for 9 hours straight not to dump all of this here.

Note: I have ADHD, I’ve researched this, but I am not a medical professional blah blah blah ok now onto the fun interesting stuff!!!!

I put this under a cut bc its,,,, longish.

What is executive functioning?

Executive functioning is what carries you from day to day tasks. It’s like the constantly active personal assistant in the back of your head. Let’s call them Effie. Effie constantly makes lists and breaks down tasks for you! I don’t mean large projects, I mean the simple stuff!

Like doing your laundry.

If you have ADHD, or anything with executive dysfunction as an issue, then you probably already know that the simple stuff hardly ever feels simple.

Doing your laundry requires many motions, most of which you omit in listing what you must do to complete this task.

Someone with executive functions in working order, probably

1. Take the laundry basket/bin/thing to the washing machine

2. Put the laundry in the washing machine

3. Put the detergent in the machine

4. Turn on the machine

5. When it is ready, put the clothes in the dryer

6. Collect the clothes when finished

7. Take them back to your room

8. Fold and put away

Tada! All done. There are quite a few steps omitted that you would consider givens. However, try and apply this precise list to someone with executive dysfunction, and you will most likely not have the same success, because of the number of places where steps conflict, being thrown out in favor of what is done immediately. Here’s a small idea of how many cracks are in this plan, even at step one:

1. Take the laundry basket/bin/thing to the washing machine

When?> I’ll do it after I finish what I’m doing > Oh no I just remembered something else > What did I forget to do? > Oh no now I have no clothes for work/school/whatever > MISSION FAILED

When?> Someone else is using the washing machine now, i’ll do it later > What did I forget to do? > Oh no now I have no clothes :( > MISSION FAILED

Why? > I have enough clothes right now, I’ll be fine > Oh no I ran out of clean socks + underwear > MISSION FAILED

What?> There’s no detergent so I can’t do this > (at the grocery store) I think i have everything! > Oh no i forgot detergent > I have no clean clothes :( > MISSION FAILED

When?> I have too much free time so I’ll do it after I take care of this other thing that’s equally important > Oh no I forgot to do my laundry I don’t have anything to wear > MISSION FAILED

In what order? > There’s too much to do and they are all registered in my head as permanently equal priority so I have to do them all at the same time, but I can’t do them all at the same time, so I physically am unable to proceed until this loop/error is resolved.

What extra steps are involved?> Huh i know i have to take my laundry to the washing machine, but there’s also stuff in the washing machine area/on the way there that needs to be moved in order to do it, but I haven’t thought of that, instead seeing metaphorically an indistinct looming mass of extra equal priority work around taking my laundry to the washing machine > I don’t do it > MISSION FAILED

And that’s only a few of the cracks in step one.

See the problem?

Let’s take a closer look at how deep it goes. Do you know how much you rely on executive functioning in your day to day life? Yes? No? How did you get out of bed this morning? How did you open your eyes? Everything you do, even running away from something chasing you, is dependent on executive functioning. Memory. Recall. Starting anything, and I mean anything. Breaking down what needs to be done. You’re so used to it, you see a lot of the steps as givens not needed to be stated. When do you do this? What priority level is this? Every success you’ve had in your life, you would not have had without your executive functioning.

It’s the messenger, sending signals from the hub, recall this, you have to do this, this task is more important than this, this is what you’re going to do. It translates thought into action, idea into concept into reality. It’s the Director, streamlining things, going into crisis management when you make a major mistake or fail to do something, or have something due, or or or. Granted, executive functions aren’t the be all end all of human success, but they are to you as a foundation is to a building.

Scary to think what would happen if it just

stopped.

You could think all you want, of course. You need to do this. You want to do that. You scream and rail and fight against a prison of your own unresponsive limbs.

There’s nothing physically wrong with your limbs. They are in perfect working order. Or at least as working as they had been before. There’s no reason for you to feel like this. You feel like your brain is setting itself on fire in its attempts to send it messages to get a response any kind of fucking response. You feel hopeless. You gain no mental traction. You gain nothing but your own hatred and frustration and gain the same of others too.

Because they think you’re faking it. That you just don’t want to do it hard enough. That you just need to apply yourself.

The thing is, you’ve been trying. Your mind is a car in a swamp, uselessly running its wheels to no avail, sinking deeper and deeper into the muck. You are straining as hard as you possibly can. There’s no more gas in the tank. You have nothing left to give.

And you have nothing to show for it.

In this hell, you’ve accomplished nothing. You’ve succeeded at nothing. Nothing you do, nothing you say, and nothing you want can ever happen in this moment.

You almost feel like dying. But you can’t. You can’t, not because of will to live, not because of hope, and not because of love, but because you cannot get your limbs to remember what motion is, your brain to remember the past, and your heart to remember restraint. Frustration, anger, hatred, all of the ugliest emotions the soul has to offer spill over. You feel like you can never be happy again. That you’ve never felt happy before. That this awful feeling crawling into the crevices of your lungs and trachea and curling its way around your stomach and spleen is what you will feel like for the rest of your life.

And then you forget. You forget everything that got you to that point. the wave recedes. you feel nothing. you remember only blurs of what occurred at best. only to experience the same fucking thing again, and again, and again and its always as raw and drowning as the first time you felt it, you never grow used to it, and it will never stop, it will never cease, and no one believes you when you say you are trying. You are a soul inside a vessel that doesn’t want to be yours.

anyways! while this may seem like an extreme, the last few paragraphs are a pretty solid descriptor of how living with executive dysfunction feels like! this is also a solid reason why people with ADHD are more likely to have anxiety and depression! the same thing is characteristic of people with disorders that have executive dysfunction as a symptom!

so TL;DR: Executive Dysfunction is not the same as laziness; it is a fundamental difference in the brain structure and wiring or a deficiency in neurotransmitter production.

speaking of that, moving onto the physiological side of executive dysfunction! Yes! There’s actually a physiological side to ADHD! Pretty sure that’s a characteristic of all brain disorders illnesses and the like but people still say its fake! :D

ok i’m getting tired so heres the rundown:

lower catecholamine levels: catecholamine is a class of neurotransmitter that includes fun stuff like

Dopamine: the motivation sauce

Seratonin: Happy Happy Happy

Adrenaline: you put this in epipens. fight or flight

Noradrenaline: also fight or flight. includes attention as well. at higher levels, anxiety. Thanks, God.

Its bad. bc the body’s natural reward system (dopamine) isn’t at normal levels, the nice little feel good kick after you make your bed or brush your teeth?? nope!!!!!!! Thus there is little internal motivation to do anything. WOW!!! How did adhd get passed down in the gene pool???? is it recessive?? bc im rly at a loss. idk someone with a medical degree in brain science dm me abt it. I rly need to understand.

Also the frontal lobe, y’know the thing controlling judgment, morals, impulses, emotions, all of that fun stuff???? it’s usually behind in development, typically evening out mid to late twenties, but its still,,,,, not Great. Wow!!

White matter abnormalities are apparently a thing too?? White matter is the brains messaging system so when that’s messed up I’m pretty sure thats not a good thing.

anyways, i’m tired now, its been 2 hrs since i’ve started writing this and I have a metric ton of things that I needed to start but didn’t, so

TL;DR: ADHD (and by further extent, executive dysfunction)has a basis in science and has physiological stuff associated with it that (i think since MRIs aren’t being used to diagnose adhd) is just being studied recently, and uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh google exists use it b4 getting into arguments abt the existence of disorders and such. plz. im begging you.

#actuallyadhd #executive functioning #executive dysfunction #adhd #ramadan says things

10 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 6 years

Text

Crazy, stupid, sudden (Craquaria) Part 2 - Catrina

A/N: This was gonna be only a one shot bc I didn’t know if you would like it, but you asked, and I delivered. I had so much fun writing this, I hope you like it as much as I did. Some things: 1. Thanks @likeuranus for giving me ideas and opinions, ily! 2. I used Miz as Cracker’s name in the first part bc I was confused about it (for the anon who said it was like calling Miss Fame ‘Miss’) 3. I didn’t expect you would like it so much! PLEASE REMEMBER TO send some feedback if you liked this part and make me know if you want a third part? 4. Would you be insterested if I do a kind of “side chapter” where I explain Sharon and Alaska’s story better? Make me know at @the-glitter-skeleton and feel free to talk to me lmao I need friends <3 That’s it, enjoy.

Miz is going crazy. She just can’t understand —even when Monet tells her there’s nothing to understand— and her stubborn mind isn’t helping at all.

“So, in summary, you have a crush” her friend says, turning to her locker.

“I do” Miz sighs tiredly, leaning her back on the locker next to Monet’s. “And I don’t know how to get close to her”

“You drool over her since last year, didn’t you have enough time to plan shit like that?” she mocks, changing books into her bag.

Miz opens her mouth indignantly, ready to argue. “I don't—”

Monet closes the door of her locker suddenly, looking at her friend with a raised brow. “Christmas party, five months ago; you, Blair and I were outside the theater when certain girl with aquatic name walked by. ’She’s the prettiest thing I’ve seen around here’ quote by you”

Miz knows she’s defeated when her cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Smart bitch” she whispers as she rolls her eyes. “Are you helping me or what?”

“Brianna, I wasted my time investigating the bus route on Monday for you. After that anything is easy” Monet giggles when they start walking to their first class. “At least you took the chance when you saw her in the bus; she knows you now. And driving her to school was a good start, you got to see her everyday. That’s something”

“But out of my car we don’t talk at all! The longest conversation we had was about weather. Every time we get here she just thanks the ride and goes away” Miz pouts. “And don’t call me Brianna, only my mom calls me that”

“Whatever, Miz” she remarks ironically. “What I’m going to is that you can go closer easily now”

“But how?”

Monet stays silent until they sit at the back of the classroom. The teacher doesn’t arrive yet, and everyone is too busy chatting to care about it. She looks at Miz with a concerned look that makes her friend know she’s focused. She smiles when an idea comes to her mind, tapping on Miz’s arm to get her attention.

“You have to ask her out!”

Fridays are boring. But when Aquaria thinks of it, she realizes everyday is boring. The only interesting part of her days seems to be the way to school and home, when the sees Miz.

But then, everything goes down.

She doesn’t know what’s happening. It’s out of control her every time she combs her hair a little better hoping Miz notices it, or every time she sneaks to Sharon’s room to steal her perfume because it smells better than hers.

It becomes stronger when she looks at her and she can’t help but smiling like a maniac. She knows the feeling, she isn’t dumb; she knows perfectly it’s something she can’t bury. The word love burns into her brain like acid.

Aquaria doesn’t like that word. It’s tough and merciless. She saw the perfect prove with her own moms; destroyed after giving everything they had. Even when Sharon mentions how happy she is now and Alaska assures she’s better alone, she knows Sharon still conserves pictures of her wedding in a box under her bed and Alaska prefers going on business trips so she doesn’t have to be in her huge house that used to be filled with Sharon’s voice.

She doesn’t want that. Miz is nice, funny, special. She’s everything Aquaria has ever wanted and she’s too scared to go for.

It’s useless. She closes her eyes and tries to throw every single idea that has been around her mind this morning away. Her eyes are on the table, quietly chewing on the bread with dry cheese and too much ham of her daily sandwich when a noise makes her lift her head suddenly. It just takes Miz a second to sit by her, looking directly at her soul with those gorgeous big eyes of hers.

“Hey” she smiles. “Mind if I stay here?”

Aquaria almost chokes on the bread as she swallows as fast as she can to answer. “It’s fine” she manages to say, receiving a smile from Miz.

For a moment, they don’t do anything more than eat silently.

“What are you doing tonight?” Miz asks suddenly, her eyes on her food over her plate as she carelessly stings it with a fork.

The question surprises Aquaria. She thinks for a second; she hasn’t anything planned, maybe watching a movie and make dinner for Sharon when she arrives from work, but nothing else. What could she do, anyways? With no friends at all, her nights are just as boring as mornings, but she doesn’t wanna Miz to know that.

“I don’t know” she replies, keeping herself from asking why. “No plans yet, I guess”

“Wanna go out with me?” she asks simply. So fucking simply Aquaria can’t understand why it makes her heartbeats increase.

She can’t think of an answer. She knows she should say no, but Miz is looking at her and the idea seems so irresistible she just can curl the corners of her lips into a little smile and nod. “Yeah”

It’s just going out, she comforts herself, ignoring the huge warning signal in her mind. That isn’t gonna hurt anybody.

“We have a date then!” Miz’s eyes shine.

Aquaria is finally at home, nervously walking in a circle on the living room. After taking her home, Miz said she would pick her up at seven before she started the car again and drove until it disappeared of Aquaria’s sight.

She takes her phone and goes to do the first thing she knows she should have done before, dialing the number of Sharon’s office as she throws herself to the couch.

“Good afternoon, you’re calling to the office of doctor Sharon Needles. What can I do for you?” a voice sounds at the other line of the phone.

“Hey Max” she replies with a smile. Her mom’s secretary is nice and always sends Aquaria cookies in Christmas, which of course was an easy way to gain her boss’ daughter’s heart. “Is my mom there?”

“Aqua! It’s good to hear you” Aquaria can swear she’s smiling even when she can’t see her. “And sorry darling, your mom is going to a meeting right now. Something you want me to tell her?”

“Yeah. Just tell her I’m going out with… a friend at seven. I’ll be back early and I’m taking my phone if she wants to call me”

There’s a puse before Max talks again. “Alright sweetheart. As soon as I see her I’ll tell her”

“Okay, thanks Max” Aquaria giggles before hanging up.

Hours after, Aquaria is still on the couch, watching a boring cooking show she found changing channels with no order. It’s the best way she has to entretain herself a little, even when the meat the old lady is cooking looks gross. It’s way too much salt, Aquaria thinks as she sighs.

Suddenly, the main door opens, revealing Sharon’s figure in the frame. Aquaria jumps in her spot, looking at her in surprise.

“Mom? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” she asks, sitting sitraght.

“I am, but when Max told me you called I had to run here. My baby has a date!” Sharon snaps cheerfully, closing the door and dropping her purse in the other couch to sit next to her daughter. Her smile is the brightest Aquaria has seen in years, and she can’t help but smiling too.

“You left work… for me?” is all she can ask, incredulous.

“Honey, I’d leave that hellhole for you anytime” Sharon assures.

Aquaria knows it’s true when she remembers Sharon dropping the chance to head a stomach surgery in the middle of the morning because she went to Aquaria’s ballet festival to see her perform. Work is her worst addiction, but her love for Aquaria is way stronger.

“Now, are you gonna tell me who is this nice person who asked you out?” the woman talks again, kicking her heels out so she can fold her legs under her on the couch.

Pathetically or gracefully —depends of Aquaria’s mood— Sharon is her best friend. The few hours she gets to see her are to talk about anything, from homework to annoying coworkers, but she didn’t tell her about Miz because the fear was bigger than the confusion and Aquaria couldn’t organize her mind.

But curling her body against Sharon’s, she sighs and decides to shut her mind down for a second. Just for a second.

“Her name is Miz Cracker, I met her days ago. She’s super nice and gentle—”

“Miz is such a weird name” Sharon comments.

“I know, her real name is Brianna, but she doesn’t like it”

“Oh, that’s cool. And you like her?”

The direct question is like a thrown arrow, going right to Aquaria’s chest. Closing her eyes, she purses her lips, looking for an answer. Love, being a group of negative things in her life, is also an untouched topic with Sharon. That makes it even worse.

“I’m scared, mom” she confesses in a small voice.

“Why, darling?”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“C'mon, you can’t know that if you don’t try. And you’re too young to worry about that. If it doesn’t work, you can try it with someone else! Maybe someone without the name of a cookie as last name” she jokes, petting her hair. “Let those stupid fears outside your head and just enjoy what you can enjoy”

Her words seem to make something in Aquaria’s chest to grow; sudden courage. She doesn’t wanna lose Miz, but if she starts something knowing it can end, at least she’s gonna make it worthwhile. Nodding, she hugs Sharon as tight as she can. “You’re right, so fucking right”

“Nothing new, your mom is really smart” Sharon brags with a smirk, looking down at her watch for a second. “It’s six o'clock, let’s do what I came to! What are you gonna wear?”

Aquaria laughs, being dragged by Sharon upstairs to her room. For some minutes, she sees her mom searching into her closet from her bed, until Sharon turns around with a black dress she hasn’t seen in a while. Her mom looks at it with nostalgia, and Aquaria remembers; is the dress Alaska gave her for her birthday the year before.

Once she puts it on, Sharon takes manage of her hair. She combs it until it’s done and then proceeds with the make up that Aquaria finds unnecessary, but she lets her mom take her as a doll to dress and paint. When she finishes, she can’t stop praising her, petting her head with shining eyes and the biggest smile.

Miz’s car stops outside the house just ten minutes later. Sharon is nervous, maybe more than her own daughter when she hugs her and watches her from the door frame. Miz’s head pocks out of the window, yelling hello and waving at Sharon, who can only do the same.

“You look really pretty” Miz praises when Aquaria pulls into the car. She’s all dressed up, wearing a shiny light purple dress that makes her look adorable with her wavy blonde hair perfectly done.

“Thanks” she replies, a smile hiding behind her lips once the door is closed and the car starts. “You look pretty too”

Miz drives through the now dark streets, until they reach a little restaurant Aquaria has seen before. It’s warm and comfortable, and Aquaria feels even better when Miz reaches her side as soon as they’re walking to the door.

When they sit, dangerously close with their knees touching, it feels good. The thrill of disappointment and fear isn’t as big as Aquaria imagined it before, and when Miz smiles at her and asks what are you gonna have? in the sweetest voice, it seems to disappear.

She’s glad Miz can fill the holes in the conversation every time Aquaria just stays silent because the words don’t come out. She talks about her life, her childhood, stupid things that catch her attention —how could Aquaria know Miz actually loved to cook?— and more important, she gets her to do the same. She opens up; grabbing some vegetables with her fork as she tells Miz things she didn’t even remember before.

“I like your voice. It’s good to hear it more than just saying yes, no and I don’t know” Miz mocks, gaining a death gaze from her. “I’m serious, though. It’s really pretty. I could listen to it forever”

“I already listen to your voice always, so I can’t say the same” a high pitched gasp comes out of Miz mouth as Aquaria chuckles, looking down at her plate.

“And she can joke! You’re full of surprises. What else could you be keeping from me?”

“Well, you still don’t know I’m actually a secret agent from the FBI” Aquaria grimaces. “Now that I told you, I have to kill you”

“Okay, you joke about the FBI, that makes you even more perfect now” Miz states in a serious tone that makes Aquaria laugh. “Let’s just marry already”

“I wouldn’t mind that” Aquaria replies, not very attentive of her words. When she realizes what she has said, she bits her lip as her cheeks blush. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay, I was thinking the same” Miz puts her elbow over the table, resting her chin on her hand as she watches the girl in front of her. “You’re beautiful when you blush”

“Only when I blush?” Aquaria teases with a raised brow, the tension tangled in her nerves thankfully decreasing.

“Oh, well—” blinking, Miz seems taken aback. “You’re always beautiful, but, you know, when—”

She stops when Aquaria smiles, letting her know she was joking.

This feels just right.

When they head back to Aquaria’s home, the smiles are still there, and the comfortable heat that seems to go between them too. The car stops just where it did hours before, full of a very deserving silence after everything they spoke. Aquaria looks at Miz one more time before she open the door and for her surprise, Miz is already looking at her.

“This was a good night” the blonde comments. Her eyes shine under the street light, making Aquaria to fall in a small trance as she can only stare at them.

“It was” with her voice becoming little, she answers.

And again the silence. Aquaria turns a bit to open the door and Miz knows she should say something else before she goes. She can almost feel Monet’s gaze over her when she touches her arm, asking silently for attention.

“Aqua, I want to tell you something” in her head it sounded better, definitely. Aquaria is looking at her attentively and she just sighs, the nerves running through all her body. “I— wait, no. I just wanna say— I… like you, Aquaria. More than friends”

The words come out, floating in the air for a second before Aquaria can process them. And the silence hits the car once again, but this time it doesn’t feel right. And at the lack of response Miz sighs again, but this time embracing a mix of disappointment and dispair.

“I’m sorry. Please, let’s just be friends. Forget that. It was stupid— you know what? I’m drunk! Yes, so fucking drunk, I don’t know what I’m doing! I shouldn’t be driving”

With no words at all, Aquaria’s hand reaches Miz’s.

“No, Aquaria, don’t do that” with her head shaking negatively, she pulls her hand away as she looks down. “Don’t try to comfort me, I should’ve known”

“What should have you known? That I like you back?”

Miz can’t belive it. It doesn’t even sound true when Aquaria smiles warmly.

“You do?” lifting her head she asks, her insecurity becoming adorable for Aquaria, who can only nod to confirm her answer.

“I definitely do”

A smile grows on Miz’s lips. Is the only reponse her body produces, everything else is completely blank. Even when she tried to be positive about the topic, thinking Aquaria would have a mutual feeling, hearing it is completely different.

Her eyes can’t help but stare directly at her lips, those that look soft and sweet, those she wanted to kiss since a long time ago. She doesn’t even realize when Aquaria’s eyes are back on her, and her body moves closer, against hers, not having to deal with the seat belt. Her hand goes to Aquaria’s, holding it tight. Miz feels her chin being lift by her free hand.

When she looks up, Aquaria’s face is just inches away from hers. She can feel Miz’s heavy breathing coming out of her lightly open mouth.

It's sudden when their lips smash into each other, both of them closing their eyes with excitement running through their veins.

It's crazy when their heartbeats increase to a point they seem to be breathless, looking for air in the other’s mouth.

It's stupid when they break the kiss and their lips feel unsatisfaced, wanting —no, needing— more contact.

All they can do is look at each other, too shaken to talk. Their hands are still holding each other, Aquaria’s hand is still on Miz’s chin and the blonde’s hand has somehow found its way to her waist. Everything feels right. No, not right, it feels even better. It feels crazy, stupid, sudden; just like everything between them. And that’s absolutely perfect.

“Would be dumb if I say this is the best first kiss I ever had even when I never had one before?” Miz asks, eyes full of daydream. “I sounded so ridiculous and cheesy but it’s true. This is even better than I thought”

Talking in the calmest tone Miz has ever listened in Aquaria, she looks down with a little smile. “It was my first one too”

“Was it?” Miz’s brows raise with surprise when she nods. Pride grows in her chest; she was her crush’s first kiss. That’s more than something, Monet would say. “May I be your second one too?”

“You can be as much of them as you want” Aquaria eagerly replies, pulling her on a messy kiss as the car fills of heavy breathes and wonderful heat.

It feels perfect.

#aquaria #miz cracker #craquaria #fluff #cisgirl au #sharon needles #catrina #rpdr fanfiction #lesbian au #crazy stupid sudden

133 notes · View notes

vvienersoldier · 6 years

Text

Revenge

Summary: (Y/N) has had just about enough of Loki Laufeyson and his gang bullying her and her fellow Hufflepuffs, so she calls upon a certain son of Odin to help her get back at the annoying Slytherin menace.

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x reader

Warnings: swearing, bullying, minor mentions of blood, Loki being a shithead

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: disclaimer I’m actually a Ravenclaw, but the story seemed to work better with Hufflepuff!reader bc who doesn’t love those beautiful little beans?? If there are any Hufflepuffs reading this that want me to change the character to be more realistic, lmk and I’ll be happy to work with you <3 also shoutout once again to @bigexplodingstar bc Sarah is the patron saint of me getting my life together <3 <3 <3

Walking with a few of your fellow Hufflepuffs down the hall, you couldn’t help but tense when you spotted Loki and his gang of obnoxious friends, all dressed in green and silver accented robes.

As soon as his sights zeroed in on you, you knew. You never understood why, but he’d always taken great joy in torturing you more than any of your friends, even your fellow muggleborn friends.

“(Y/N), sweetie,” he crooned in that infuriatingly condescending voice, “it seems as though you’ve got one of your unhealthy muggle sweets on your robes.”

A blush raced up from the very tips of your toes to cover your neck and face in an unattractive red color, which made Loki and his crew burst into laughter, all jostling each other as they moved on, Loki purposefully knocking your shoulder and making you spill your texts and papers all over the hallway.

“Go eat a brick and choke, Laufeyson,” you muttered under your breath, causing your friend closest to you, Gina, to pause in her gathering of papers to stifle her giggles.

“You are always finding clever ways to insult people,” she teased, a smile on her face before she saw the buildup of unshed tears shining in your eyes. “Aw, (Y/N), don’t let those pure-bloods get to you, they love to make everyone who isn’t like them feel bad about it.”

You nodded and shrugged, wiping at your eyes quickly and giving her a fond smile. “It’s weird to be thrown into all of these politics that I had no clue existed until a few years ago; this whole place is still pretty crazy to me if I’m being honest. I mean, a school full of magic? C’mon, that’s something you read about in books.”

Her reply was cut off as you heard chatter begin around you, making you and Gina both scan the area for what the buzz was about.

“(Y/N), who did this?” You nearly jumped out of your skin as you heard the booming voice of your friend Thor from behind you.

“O-Oh, hey Thor… Uh, nobody, I was just being my clumsy self,” you floundered for an excuse lamely, making him give you a knowing look that told you he saw straight through your shit.

“You offend me, (Y/N); I’m a jock, not dim,” he sighed, before bending down to grab your things from you and standing up with you and Gina.

“Who do you think it was Thor? Loki’s bent on making my life miserable,” you muttered, scuffing your feet and shrugging hopelessly.

Instead of the outburst you expected from him, the burly man only let out a rather raucous laugh, handing you your texts back so he could grip the breast of his red and gold robes with mirth.

“Oh, my friend, if you could see into the head of my brother, you’d change your mind quite quick,” he chuckled, pulling you into a bone crushing hug before excusing himself to his next class.

○ ・○・ ○ ・○・ ○ ・○・ ○ ・○・ ○

LOKI P.O.V.

My blood boiled as I watched my oaf of an adopted brother pull (Y/N) into a firm hug.

He had no right to go meddling in my affairs, and he knew just what he was doing.

As I continued to watch (Y/N) from my spot at an outdoor table in the courtyard that had become infamous for being Slytherin central, I paid close attention to the tense way she held her shoulders and her downtrodden expression. It hurt to know that I was the cause of that look, but Father would kill me if he found that I had been fraternizing with a Hufflepuff, and a mudblood at that.

An old hatred for Thor flared up again, making me grit my teeth as I wondered what made him so special that Father would allow him to traipse around, befriending anybody he wished.

As I watched her leave, my thoughts turned once again towards (Y/N) and the knowledge that I’d never be able to interact with her outside of these childish antics I’d been putting her through in hopes to get her to stop being so damn kind towards me in class. I’d tried to put her off originally by asking for quills and never giving them back to possibly show her that I wasn’t interested in being any more friendly than desk mates.

She didn’t seem to get the hint, and the guilty feeling in my gut only grew as I had become harsher and harsher towards her in an attempt to convince myself that there was absolutely nothing charming about a girl too kind to defend herself.

○ ・○・ ○ ・○・ ○ ・○・ ○ ・○・ ○

It had been a few days since the last time Loki had harassed you, and you were becoming suspicious. You weren’t sure why he hadn’t struck again sooner, and you were becoming paranoid as you waited for the other shoe to drop.

When Gina came barreling into your room three nights later after dinner, tear stained and distraught, it finally seemed to drop, hitting you right in the heart as it fell.

As she told you the story of how Loki and some of his friends had cornered her outside of the dining hall, tormenting her relentlessly over her blood status and (quite traumatic) upbringing, your hands began to shake with an anger you’d never felt towards any other person before.

“Gina, honey, do you still know where that fancy quill you were telling me about is?” You questioned her stoically, causing her to look up at you in a panic.

“(Y/N), n-no, you’ll get in trouble,” she sniffled, curling further into your side as you smiled grimly down at her, resting your cheek to her hair.

“Don’t you worry about that, I know someone who’ll help,” you soothed, holding her tightly through the night until her sobs and sniffles had faded into the rhythmic breathing of sleep.

○ ・○・ ○ ・○・ ○ ・○・ ○ ・○・ ○

The next morning, you set out to the Quidditch pitch, intent on finding Thor quickly before you were interrogated by your fellow Hufflepuffs (bless them) on why you were in such a foul mood.

Instead, you found the one person whom you’d ever wished harm upon.

“(Y/L/N), here to make a fool of yourself?” A snarky voice questioned behind you, thinly veiled mockery dripping from his tone.

“‘Thou art like a toad; ugly and venomous,’” you quoted, watching his rather un-ugly face scrunch in anger and the barest hint of a smirk before spotting Thor and calling his name.

“(Y/N), what are you doing out here?” He asked as you arrived at his side, a grin splitting his face as he pulled you into one of his signature crushing hugs.

“Thor, I need your help,” you told him softly, looking you at him without a hint of joy in your normally sanguine features, “he’s gone too far this time.”

Hackles raising almost instantly, his gaze found Loki over your shoulder, who was already watching your exchange with a cool mask molded over his features. “What has my brother done to wrong you? I swear, if he’s harmed you, I will make him pay,” he vowed, brow furrowed in concern.

“No, no, I just- I need to ask you for a cover,” you said, before launching into an explanation of the events of the previous night, as well as your plan to get back at Loki.

“(Y/N), Loki isn’t one to be messed with like this, I worry about the consequences of your plan. Not to mention if you get caught.” He worried, before seeing the determined set to your jaw and raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll do what I can,” he relented.

○ ・○・ ○ ・○・ ○ ・○・ ○ ・○・ ○

Later that day during dinner, Loki noticed the absence of you, as well as the absence of the obnoxious booming laughter of his brother among the idiot’s friend group. Something was going on, and Loki wasn’t one to be out of the loop when mischief was involved.

Excusing himself from dinner, he found himself wandering the halls, trying to detect where you and his brother could possibly be, for there was no other explanation as to why both of you’d be gone unless you were with each other creating mischief. Luckily, mischief happened to be Loki’s middle name.

Loki finally found what he was looking for as he rounded the corner, seeing Thor run a hand through his hair to fix it while you readjusted your robes with reddened ears, a sure sign that the two of you’d been up to no good.

“Well, I hope this isn’t an attempt to plot my downfall; you’ll have to be much more covert if you want that to work,” Loki taunted sarcastically, a grin stretching his features as he watched you jump practically out of your skin at his sudden arrival. He did well to hide the jealousy still kindled within him towards Thor being able to be your friend (or seemingly more), but quelled it with the bitter knowledge that you were much too passive to get along well someone like Loki.

Before he could say any more, you gave Thor a knowing look and bit your lip, mumbling an excuse to leave.

“(Y/N), wait,” Thor called, grabbing your arm gently and pulling you into one of his giant bear hug, a chuckle of, “he’s still oblivious, and practically green with envy.” Letting you go slowly, he pressed a kiss to your temple before releasing you.

Sure enough, as you passed Loki in the hall, he looked quite crestfallen, which confused you to no end and made a pang of something echo in your chest.

However, that pang was thoroughly snuffed as his wolfish grin returned along with a mocking, “where’s my hug, (Y/N)?”

“Go piss on an electric fence, Laufeyson,” you grumbled as you passed him, still very angry with him about his treatment of Gina.

All you got in response was a chuckle from behind you, Loki giving you the closest thing to a look of admiration Thor had ever seen on his brother’s face.

○ ・○・ ○ ・○・ ○ ・○・ ○ ・○・ ○

The next day during your shared History of Magic, sure as the sun rises, Loki’d breezed in late and asked (demanded) to borrow a quill from you.

You sighed as you normally did, but this time instead of scowling into your bag, you had to bite back a grin as you pulled the black feathered quill from your supplies and handed it over to him, having trained your face into your usual miserable look whenever you were around Loki.

“You certainly have an ugly taste in quills, (Y/N), what sort of muggle-looking monstrosity is this?” Loki tutted before dipping the quill into his pot of ink to begin his notes for the class.

As he began, Loki felt a sharp scratching on the back of his hand and paused to itch at it, a mild look of shock flitting across his face as his fingers came away with the barest hint of blood. Being sat in the back of the classroom, nobody around seemed to notice his look of bewilderment as he saw an exact copy of what he’d written moments before carved into the back of his hand.

“(Y/N), you wily little woman,” Loki chuckled in amazement, grinning down at you unabashedly, “it seems you’ve outfoxed me.”

You only glared back up at him, a defiant set to your jaw. “It’s what you deserve after what you did to Gina. You ought to apologize, you scoundrel,” you admonished. With a raised brow and a look that you had to admit looked quite like adoration, he inclined his head, seeming to agree to your demand.

“So you won’t stand up for yourself, but the moment one of your friends is in distress, you enlist my brother to exact your revenge,” he mused, having finally figured out what you and Thor were doing in the hallway, “a Hufflepuff through and through, my dear.”

Instead of trying to figure out what that look on his face was for, you offered him a quill that wouldn’t scar his hand permanently with history notes and ignored his near constant glances your way for the rest of the lecture.

Once you were let out of class, you hastily collected your things and made a beeline for the door only to be stopped in the hallway when you felt a hand touch your shoulder gently, causing you to tense up instinctively.

“I mean no harm,” you heard Loki’s voice, a hint of something sounding suspiciously close to guilt coloring his tone. Straightening your shoulders, you looked up into his eyes, raising an eyebrow to him.

“That seems to be going against your usual M.O., doesn’t it?” You quipped, emboldened by your earlier rebellion against the man in front of you.

Having the courtesy to appear somewhat stricken by your comment, he took a deep breath and began his story of how his father was always expecting more from him than Thor; about how being a Slytherin like his father put even more pressure on him since Thor was a Gryffindor; about how he was shamed from interacting with anyone who wasn’t a pure-blood by his father.

“Loki… you shouldn’t have to feel like you need to do more to impress your father just because you’re adopted,” you spoke softly, a gentle hand placed on his forearm to try and comfort him. You weren’t quite sure where this one-eighty turn came from, but you’d take this Loki over the one who you now understood hid his pain in malice.

He was quite obviously upset, and you suspected that being in a highly visible place like the hallway wasn’t helping matters. Making a quick decision, you grabbed his hand and led him to a quiet clearing you liked to retreat to when things got too hectic inside the walls of the school.

As you settled into the grass across from him, you noticed that he was staring at you with that same look as before, making you furrow your brows. “Would you stop looking at me like the human version of the heart eyes emoji?” You joked lamely, only to receive a blank stare from him.

“The what?”

“Christ, I forget you savages don’t have smartphones,” you grumbled softly, hearing an offended scoff across from you.

“Savage? My family has been part of the Ministry for centuries,” he argued, scowling at you.

“Well, what’s so special about that when I can look at memes?”

“What the bloody fuck is a meme?”

“Loki, if we’re going to try to be friends, you’re going to need to convince your father to get some WiFi up in here,” you sighed.

“That still doesn’t explain what the hell a ‘meme’ is,” he huffed, utter exasperation written across his face.

You only giggled at his expression, still caution to get close to him as you pulled out your phone and began showing him saved photos of undoubtedly outdated memes.

Spending the remainder of your phone's battery life sat in that field trying to explain what a meme was, you decided that maybe, just maybe, Loki Laufeyson wasn't an absolute bastard; just an annoying shithead.

Masterlist

#loki laufeyson x reader #loki x reader #Loki Laufeyson #loki #thor odinson #thor #hogwarts au #hufflepuff reader #slytherin loki #gryffindor thor #hufflepuff #slytherin #gryffindor #this was so much fun to write #i really want a thor hug tbh #also loki why are u so rude to people u like thats not how u get a date

156 notes · View notes

haikyuu-imagines-and-others · 6 years

Note

Hey there! The askbox is still open right? I want to request a scenario with Sugawara and Kuroo (separately) where their s/o failed an exam and is feeling down so they try to cheer her up? Maybe with some ice cream or taking a walk? I had an exam today and honestly don't know what to expect lol Anyway!! thank you for your hard work. I'll always be supporting you bc you're AWESOME

Hey hey! Again! I have started using a random number generator! So congrats, lovely! Your request was chosen! Please don’t stress out over exams, sweetheart! School is only temporary, and honestly, you relearn most of the material on the job anyway…. Degrees Don’t Have Grades…. Grades do NOT define your intelligence! Keep moving forward, lovely! I know you can do it! Thanks for requesting! - Admin Satori

Sugawara Koushi:

The sound of impact alerted Sugawara to something wrong. But when he walked into the room to investigate, he was greeted with you laying on your stomach with your head thrown into a pillow. Your phone a few feet away in a pile of clothes he’d meant to clean up earlier that day.

“______?” You heard him through the pillows now pressed against your ears. But you didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch. Maybe if he thought you were asleep he’d leave you alone to pout and cry about your grades… Your terrible, awful grades that would ruin your life. “_______…” A dip in the bed beside you, his gentle hand rubbing up and down the right side of your back, “I know you’re not sleeping, ________…”

Why couldn’t he take the hint? “You don’t know that.” Against your better judgement, and your fight, flight, or hide senses, you responded. Suga chuckled softly, the sound piercing through the pillow against your ears and making you smile reluctantly. You couldn’t possibly be mad at this angel for finding you out, for sticking by you.

Suga hummed to himself, his left hand rubbing up and down your back gently, his other hand holding your discarded phone - it was opened to your grades. Scrolling through, Suga could see almost immediately why you were upset. “Ah, ______… Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” You shook your head, Suga smiled gently, “What if I say ‘please’? Would you tell me then?”

“No.” Now you were pouting into the pillow, feeling a faux heartbreak as you remembered how confident you’d been going into the exam. Only to find out a week later, today, that you’d failed it? Bombed it? The questions you’d thought were easy… reflected your knowledge of the subject… since you didn’t get them correct.

His hand stilled on your back, and you wondered if he’d pull his ultimate move and lie down with you, cuddle you into telling him what was wrong. But he didn’t.

Instead, he stood up, the dip in the mattress disappearing. Your hold on the pillow lessened, your ears straining to hear your boyfriends gentle footfalls - wondering where it was he was going? Didn’t he see you pouting? Didn’t he care? Didn’t he want to know why you were so unresponsive to his ‘magic word’?

You didn’t have long to think about why he’d left before Suga was walking back into the bedroom, the sound of glassware clinking and sliding against each other reaching your ears. “_________, do you mind sitting up, please? I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to eat this while lying down.” Confusion sparked, curiosity tickled, you turned your head to the side and stared out of the corner of your eye at what it was your boyfriend thought he was doing. Suga smiled gently down at you, holding two bowls of something, silverware shining from the rims of the bowls. He gestured them towards you, “Please? I don’t want to accidentally get anything on the sheets when I try to sit down.”

Groaning the entire time, you flipped over on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling, bringing your pillow on your chest and squeezing it tightly. “Koushiiiiii, I don’t wanna move…” You whined loudly, but your boyfriend only chuckled quietly, finding amusement in your dramatic whining. “Fiiiiiiiiine….” You drew out before sitting up and scooting backwards.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Suga suddenly called out, making you freeze and give him a curious look as he leaned forwards just a bit his arm stretched towards you, offering you to take the bowl in his hand. You took the bowel tentatively, glancing down at its contents before focusing your attention on what it was he was doing. Already, just from seeing the soft serve in your bowl were you feeling a little better over what you’d seen for your grades. Suga kneeled on the bed next to where you sat, but shuffled closer to the headboard before sitting down, his back touching the wood. “Okay…. Come here…”

You snuggled up next to him, feeling him wrap his arm around your shoulders, “How are you going to eat your ice cream if you’re holding onto me?”

Suga suddenly realized his foul and blushed softly, “Ah…. Got me there.” He smiled down at his lap where his bowl of ice cream was slowly turning into a puddle of sugar. “So…. Do you want to talk about it?  “The ice cream?”

The silence that followed your bad attempt at an escape made you stuff a spoonful of ice cream in your mouth, using it as an excuse not to talk about anything at all. Suga tilted his head with a playfully disapproving smile, “_______.”

You cleared your throat, feeling as if your mouth, your throat, your sternum, your solar plexus was freezing over from the chilly delight. “Uhm….” You struggled to look for a place to start from, you’d failed. Simple as that. You hadn’t passed your exam. And now your life was ruined. There wasn’t really anything else to it. But you felt as if it were impossible to tell someone so perfect that you…. weren’t. You stared down at your, now empty, bowl, “I, uh…. I failed my exam….”

Another silence.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Suga chuckled at your disbelief.

“Yeah… Okay.” His gentle smile made the room brighter, made you feel warm as if you were standing in sunlight. “_______. You failed one exam…. That’s nothing to be sad over… You are an amazing student.” Suga had completely forgotten about his ice cream, now reaching over and placing the bowl on the side table without taking his eyes off you. “While I do encourage you to try to study from your mistakes… there isn’t really anything to be upset about… School is just.. school.. It’s not here forever. Once we’re out in the real world, really working with our careers… School will just be…” He chuckled quietly, “It’ll just be a fond memory.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “School? A fond memory? Are you feeling alright, my love?” You reached up and rested your cold hand on his forehead, making him flinch with a smile.

Suga reached up and took your frozen hand in his warm ones, leaning his head against the top of your head and closing his eyes, “You’re going to be just fine, _______. Everyone fails. It’s how life is supposed to work… Otherwise, how are we ever to improve if we don’t know what we did wrong?”

It was silent for only a moment, taking the brief pause in time to really take in what he’d said. He was right, you knew. He was usually right. But you didn’t want to focus on that right now. You cleared your throat before you motioned to the sidetable, “So uh… Can I have your ice cream, Koushi?” Suga snorted and traded bowls with you, deciding he’d spend the rest of the day spoiling you.

Kuroo Tetsurou:

The moment your shoulders fell against the side of his chest was when he knew. You’d failed your exam. It was as if your aura, the mood around you, had completely turned on its head… You were now staring down at your phone, the dim light of the screen illuminating the sadness, the disappointment and the self-hatred that now lined your face.

Kuroo brought his arm down from behind you on the couch, wrapping it around your shoulders and pulling you against the side of his chest silently. You glanced up at him only briefly before back down at your phone, your frown somehow getting deeper. Your aura darker. You knew he knew. And your heart shook in your chest at the mere thought of your boyfriend judging you based on your grades. Him and his perfect A’s in all classes.

“You know…” Kuroo stared off suddenly, his golden eyes not moving from their gazing at the TV - it was movie date night for you two, and he’d chosen quite an interesting film from his odd collection below the TV. “It’s kind of rude to check your grades in the middle of spending time with your boyfriend, blind your boyfriend with your screen light, and not pay attention to the movie he so professionally hand picked for your date night.” Then his eyes were on you, peering down at you from the corner of his eye, “How’d you do?”

He’d known you were nervous about your exam. You’d studied with him for almost a whole week prior to taking it. He’d complained countless times whenever you’d suddenly ask him to quiz you - mostly because it was during the most random of times! Kuroo doesn’t think he’d ever met someone who wanted him to quiz them for an exam in the middle of having sex. Not that you’d paid attention to your request for long. Kuroo shook himself out of the memory, reminding himself that he was here with you in the present, and you were sulking over a grade that’d come in.

“I failed.”

“Hm?” Kuroo quickly, very easily, snatched your phone from your hands, leaning away from you when you whined and reached for it. “_______, you did fine. You got a 68…. Ah, if only you’d answered one more question correctly.”

You frowned and sat back, “But, Tetsu… That would have only gotten me a 69….?”

A leering smirk was sent your way, accompanied with a sultry wink, “Exactly.”

Playful irritation lit your face, covering the quiet embarrassment adorning your cheeks. You pushed his leaning form, making him laugh and completely lay out on the couch - if he lifted his legs onto yours, he’d probably be more comfortable. “You’re disgusting. I’m over here worrying about my grades, and you have nastiness on the brain. How do you sleep at night?”

“Usually next to my overly dramatic girlfriend.” His quick quip wasn’t what you were looking for and you were quickly losing your patience. Kuroo could easily see your playful irritation was slowly turning more serious, and he knew he’d be on thin ice if he didn’t watch himself. He scrolled through your grades, up towards the top, where your overall grade in the course lay. “Kitten…. Why are you so down?”

You sighed loudly, dramatically, but caught yourself too late and cleared your throat. He’d heard the drama and struggled to contain his snort of amusement, masking it as a bad cough. Squinting at him, you let out a huff, “I got a 68 on a major exam! Tetsu! That’s important! The whole course… If I don’t do better on the next exam…. Or maybe I can ask the teacher if they’ll give me another chance…. Maybe give them some sort of bribe…” You furrowed your eyebrows. Soft snickering at your expense caught your ear over your brainstorming, and you glared at your boyfriend, “It’s NOT funny, Tetsu! I need to seriously buckle down on my next exam otherwise I don’t know if I’ll be able to make graduation!”

Just before you were about to fall into a spiral of self doubt and anxiety, Kuroo’s hand wrapped around your arm and pulled you down to his level, lifting his legs onto the couch, letting your lower half rest between his long legs while you now laid on top of him. “Kitten… I want you to look at your grades and tell me what you see….”

He turned the phone for you to be able to view your grades. But you didn’t want to see them, knowing full well what he was getting at. “Tetsu! That doesn’t matter! One little slip up could land me working at McDonald’s or Panda Express the rest of my life!”

“You don’t even work there now, though!”

You pouted up at him, bringing your arms up and crossing them in front of you on his chest. You quickly stuffed your face into your own arms and Kuroo chuckled, hearing your groaning gaining volume, feeling your despair, as misplaced as it was. His large hands rested on your back, and your lower back, rubbing up and down softly. He was warm. His hands were gentle. Your heart beat strong in your chest, and you could feel his beating strong under you. How could he be so…. Okay? With a bad grade?

“I learned a long time ago that grades are…..” Kuroo stopped before snorting out, “bullshit.” You didn’t lift your head, knowing he wasn’t finished. “They don’t display your knowledge or your intelligence… it’s just a number for the teachers…. So since it’s just a number for them… why does it have so much more meaning to you?”

His question rang in your ears, and try as you might, you couldn’t help feeling he was right.

And he knew he was.

A smile could be heard in his voice, “As long as you get what you need from the college, from the school…. Which in your case would be a degree, right?” You nodded silently, still hiding your face in your arms, still feeling a little down over your failed exam. “Right. As long as you get your degree, you’ll learn on the job and everything works out….” But he could still feel your apprehension. “_______… I can promise you.. there is NO job in this world that will just…. Throw you into production…” He chuckled, “That’s purely idiotic.”

He was right. Kuroo was right. Sighing you nodded again, lifting your head, staring down at your arms on his chest, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

You nodded again, “Okay. You’re right…. It’s just a grade…. Just a number….”

Kuroo’s smile was gentle, genuine, feeling warmth spread through his chest as the dark aura around you passed without a single tear being shed. “Good…. Now let’s go get some of that sweet dairy stuff we have in the freezer.”

Sooooo… uh… I have NO idea how to describe what Suga does… but I know Kuroo would try to talk some sense into you lol Suga would just probably coax you into learning what had gone wrong! But I love you, anon! And I hope you did wonderfully on your exams!

#Admin Satori #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! scenario #Sugawara Koushi #Kuroo Tetsurou #fluff

51 notes · View notes