Sorry For Being A Hater I Want To Be A Lover But Everything Pisses Me Off

sorry for being a hater i want to be a lover but everything pisses me off

challengers was made for this song because i said so

holy shit can we be thankful that there are only like, 2 types of phone chargers nowadays? if youre phone died in 2007 you were fuck outta luck

i kinda wish i was pretty but fuck it we ball

pairings: kiara x fem!reader, jj x fem!reader

warnings: angst, unrequited love, shame around sexuality, MORE ANGGSST, sad kie:(, sad lesbian feels

SUMMARY, kie loves you.. but you’re not hers.

Kiara knows what it’s like to be loved by you.

She knows the warmth of your tights hugs, she knows the delightful scent of your perfume that, without fail, sends butterflies dancing with their hands tie into her stomach. She knows the late night conversations about anything and everything, she knows that concern you have from the people you love — all doe eyed and concerned with a pretty pout. She knows the compliments you give, the ones which make her feel weak in the knees. She knows the joyous, infectious tune of your laughter that she replays in her head when she’s sad. She knows it — knows you.

Kiara Carrera knows what being loved by you feels like.

But it’s not the type of love she wants to know.

Sometimes… sometimes, when she’s not in her right mind, she’ll watch you and JJ.. how you are with each other. She watches the way he pulls you into his lap constantly as though he always needs to be touching you (she doesn’t blame him), his arm wind around your waist and you look as happy as ever in his lap. She watches the soft kisses you each press to each others forehead. Watches the childlike giggling the can only be described as that of two teenagers hopelessly enamoured with one another.

The rest of the Pogues tease them all the time, jokingly disgusted with the PDA but they’ll turn their heads with smiles at the end of the day, knowing their friends are happy and in love.

Kie doesn’t feel that way.

It’s horrible of her — she knows, god, does she know. She’s had this argument with her stupid fucking brain so many times as she lay awake in the dead of night. You’re both her best friends, she needs to be happy for you. She should be. She is, even!

(She’s not)

Her heart cracks every time she watches the way you fall back into the embrace of the boy you love while she’s left pining for you. She mentally screams at the way you press kisses all over his faces and then finish at his lips while he’s looking up at you like you hung for fucking moon and sun. The smile that you wear upon even just glancing at him is enough to tear apart her broken and tattered heart — you never glance at her like that. You will never.

Kiara knows what it is to be loved by you: the both of you have been best friends since kindergarten.

She knows the sweetness to your soothing words that slow her rapidly pacing heart. She knows what you look like when you first wake up… she knows how you like your coffee, your favourite colour, your favourite flower! She knows the gentle or joking terms of endearment the leave you pretty, plush lips. She knows you at your worst and at your best and she loves it all. She loves all of you.

Sometimes… when she’s alone, not surrounded by the distracting tune of your laughter, she lets her mind trick her into thoughts of how JJ wasn’t good for you and she’d be better — she knows you better, loves you more.

Expect, when reality sets in, she knows she’s wrong. JJ is good for you. He knows you, he loves you. Worships you, really. Kiara knows the he knows all the things she does about you: your favourite song, your favourite drink, your favourite show. And, oh my god, she knows through and through just how well he treats you — if it’s not already fucking obvious from the way you are with each other — she has to heart it all the time, from the both of you.

JJ’s words alone she could’ve handled. She could listen to him dazedly ramble about how you good you looked in your bikini, how you made his heart flutter, how you smelt so good, whatever. She could listen to him, a small swirl of jealousy in her stomach but she was mostly dazed too — the both of them settling for dreamily gazing over at you, she could deal with that because she was thinking the same, she just couldn’t voice it.

But you… your words, she didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to handle them. The way you mumbled sentences weaved with nothing but pure love and adoration, the sweet echo of your voice pitched with admiration. It was normal though, you were best friends, of course you were telling her all of this. At sleepovers, when you both sat down in her bed and somehow he’d get brought up and you wasted no time gushing over him and telling Kiara about your moments together, all giddy and grinning with blushed skin.

She wanted to sob.

She wanted the ground to sallow her whole and spit her back into a world where you loved her how she loved you.

Kie doesn’t really remember the moment she knew that she loved you with everything she had in her.

She only remembers snippets of earlier memories from her childhood and (shock) most of them regard you. She remembers painting you silly little paintings of turtles or your favourite flower and singing off with a heart before giving it you the next day. She recalls all of the friendship jewellery, some of it long gone but the other half she still wears. She remembers going into the beach to help the baby turtles survive. She remembers the both of you going around picking up plastic and litter in general. She remembers the dressing up parties you had, both clad in outrageous princess dresses.

Later into her childhood, she remembers more. Her thoughts — feelings. Kiara thinks about the stories her parents used to read to her, the fairytales of a beautiful prince and her knight in shining armour, living happily ever after. She remembers thinking… princess and prince? Was it never a princess and princess? Could it ever be? From the stories she was read, it never ended up in such a way.

But she didn’t get it. As far as she was aware, you and her were both princesses. And… you were the only person she’d ever want to live out her happily ever after with.

(She never told anyone: scared of what they’d say as she defied normalcy)

Even as she grew older, into her adolescence, those feelings never went anywhere. She watched as you found your own princes (boys who didn’t deserve you, in her humble opinion). Her heart sometimes stopped at the thought of her happily ever after finding her own happily ever after… her own prince.

(What was wrong with her?)

The question plagued her constantly; she wished she’d never introduced you to the Pogues, she wished it was just you two still, she wished you’d look at her the same, she wished she could treat you… touch you like JJ does, she wished she could love you openly and unapologetically.

Sometimes… when she sat with her hand to her mouth to muffle her sobbing, laying alone in her cold room, she wished JJ could just disappear. That made her sob even louder, she loved him, he was her friend… but you, you were so much more to her.

You were her princess.

And…and JJ was your prince. You didn’t want a princess.

Kiara, in the past, wouldn’t call herself deluded by any means but now she was beginning to question it. She got trapped in her fantasies, in fabricated lies to ease the pain of her heart.

She liked to pretend now.

She liked to pretend that you did in fact feel the same about her. When the two of you lay snuggled up together, her heart banging erratically in her ears while you lay calm as ever.. she liked to imagine that you were equally as nervous, the you felt the spark against your bare skin in the way she did. She liked to pretend that when you looked at, your eyes were big and bright and full of romantic love — the expression you wore around JJ.

She liked to pretend that as you both lay on your side, hushed soft whispers of late night conversations slipping between you, eyes solely on one another… that you didn’t see her as a friend. She liked to pretend that as you glanced at her lips, to see what she was saying through the quiet of her voice, it was all because you felt the same. She liked to pretend that the sweet giggles and irresistible scent of you would become an every night thing — the princess and the princess finding solace in each other.

But, your solace was within your prince. Her friend. Someone she’d introduced you to.

Kiara Carrera knew unrequited love all too well and yes, the rumours are true, it is a bitch. A stone cold one.