Tumgik
#All I see is an average Rich Boy
scremogirl · 8 months
Text
✪⁂✫彡𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓✵✥☆ミ★ ???
𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐯𝐞-𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞
Yandere Student Council Pres x Nonchalant reader
I’m not sure if I should retitle this to Yandere! Childhood friend x reader or not. There’s not a lot of the fact he’s the SCP shown in the story. I felt like I went a little off track. I got so consumed in writing😭. I already have a post like that on my page so I didn’t want to make it confusing. I don’t know if I should’ve said unemotional reader either. Idk let me know what you think. Have fun reading!
Tumblr media
He was at the top of the food chain. Good grades, teachers liked him, students feared him, rich, good looking, and most importantly; the student council president. With that being said, why wouldn’t he leave you alone?
Takenya was a stuck up priss in your opinion. Always lecturing you about things you could do in order of improvement. You weren’t popular but you weren’t one of those weird Naruto kids that sat in the back of the class and ate crayons either. You just existed. Someone so average at everything somehow attracted the most “perfect” guy in school. Your grades were fine; a straight A-B student with the occasional C here and there. Your attendance on the other hand… well maybe he’s not so wrong about that, but who actually wants to be at school anyways?
“I don’t understand why you don’t try harder? You could easily surpass most of our class,”
“You need to come to school. This behavior would never pass in the real world. What would your employer think of you just not showing up?”
“Chocolate for lunch…really? If you want to stay healthy you’ll need to-“
Why does he care so much anyways? Sure, you used to be friends in like what, fifth grade? You used to get bullied in school for being different. You just didn’t like the things that kids your age were supposed to like. But… it never bothered you. You weren’t emotionless per se, it’s just, why care what others have to think?
Mellisa Grey. The girliest of all girls. She used to have it out for you when you were younger. Calling you names and bumping your shoulder whenever you walked by. You put up with it until the end of the year; fifth grade graduation. That evening she and her crew thought it’d be funny to pour milk on the shy little nerdy boy in your class. Some spilled on your dress, that you didn’t mind, but the tears of the boy next to you made you. Something inside of you just snapped. You shot up from your seat grabbing a first full of her hair and slammed her head onto the wooden table. Not stopping until you saw the wire of her pink, sparkly braces fly out her mouth. Well, that was what you wanted to do; the teachers came too early for you to inflict any further damage. The most you got was a broken nose and a lawsuit. She transferred schools after that, and you got the whoopin of a lifetime. You didn’t care. You didn’t feel bad at all. If anything you felt elated seeing her in pain and the rage on her parents faces as the cussed child you out. You didn’t cry or yell when your parents picked you up. You weren’t phased by the belt or the palm of your mothers hand striking you. You didn’t feel anything. So why were you so upset on someone else's behalf anyways?
You knew this kid. I mean, how couldn’t you when he would follow you around 24/7.
“H-Hi… my names Takenya” you just blankly stared. His sheepish gaze barely meets yours from behind his big fat glasses.
“…Do I know you?”
“Well…no. But I know you!”
“Good for you I guess.” You continued to go back and forth on the swing, not acknowledging the boy's existence at all. The swing he sat on remained stationary, never once dropping his gaze from you.
“Uhm… I just wanted to thank you for yesterday,” Hm? What was he talking about? He saw the confusion in your face when you turned around to ask and beat you to the point.
“You probably don’t know me. We’re not in the same class,” Right. So why is he talking to you? Again, before you could ask he cut you off.
“The other day when recess started you helped me pick up all of my stuff after Carter pushed me down; remember? I-I just wanted to say thank you for sticking up for me” Ohhh, you do remember him now. He was that shy little rich kid that transferred here at the end of fourth grade. He didn’t have many friends, let alone any at all. Everyone had grown up with each other and formed friend groups at this poin. He was a little late to the party so he didn’t fit in. He wasn’t worried about the next episode of Ninjago and didn’t find humor in looking up the words penis and vagina in the dictionary at the school library when the teacher wasn’t looking. His hair long, tied back into a neat ponytail and not buzzed into a Mohawk like half the boys in your grade. He had glasses that almost covered the entirety of his upper face. He always ate his pb&js on whole wheat instead of white and preferred celery sticks over fruit snacks. So, just like you, he got bullied just because he was different.
“Oh yea. I remember you now. You’re welcome by the way,” he grinned. The first time you saw him smile ever since he came to your school.
That marked the day of a long friendship.
That was until you went to middle school. You think puberty had something to do with it. He grew into his face more and sized down those jellyfishing glasses. His scrawny figure gained slightly more bulk and dressed in a more modern fashion. His hair remained the same; a bit shorter than before but still longer than most guys. You’ve always liked his hair. He would let you braid it sometimes when he was too distracted playing on his DS. He didn’t get acne like many of the other kids your grade either, skin smooth and clear. All the girls found him to die for. Your nonchalant behavior rubbed off on him and he became more confident in himself. Not letting his elementary school self be reflected into now. He became a bit too obsessed with his studies for a middle schooler; pushing all his ways on you. He would always follow you around blabbing about not attending gym class. He even started hanging around the same snotty rich kids he would complain to you about. You became annoyed. So you cut him off. Just like that. Stopped talking to him, answering his texts, not sitting with him at lunch or in class. Even after all the rejection at his advances, he came running back to you. Not willing to let you go so easily.
The school bell rings signaling the end of 4th pd and beginning of lunch. You were planning to go off campus today and not come back. Keys in hand you make your way to the student parking lot. However, someone’s blocking the exit. He’s gotten taller, about 6’2-6’3; sleeper build accommodating his height. Glasses thinner and sit perfectly on the bridge of his nose. Hair as long as ever, tyed back with that same white ribbon you gave him years ago; revealing an undercut. He fixes the collar of his button up and readjusts his tie and vest.
“And exactly…just where do you think your going?”
“To lunch,”
“The cafeteria is that way,” he points with a slender finger, decorated by a diamond ring. It shimers under the lights above reflecting against his matching earrings.
“Off campus,” he raises his eyebrow, folding his arms.
“Knowing you, you won’t come back. You do realize your request for a half day schedule is still pending right? You also recognize that I’m the one who assists the principal in granting them as well?” You don’t answer him, already knowing we're going with this.
“As I said before, your attendance needs improving before I-… we can grant it,” what a pain in the ass this guy is. You try to walk past him but he stops you, putting a hand on your shoulder.
“I don’t eat school lunch. I’ll be back after,” he gives you an unamused look. Hand gripping your shoulder a little tighter as you try to take another step.
“You know I can’t let you do that. Not unless you don’t want a new schedule,” he pauses.
“Not unless I come with you,” you look up.
“You’re paying?” His eyes widened slightly, shocked at your willingness. But he can’t be too surprised, he knows you don’t care about anything unless you get what you want.
“Of course I am. You need to spend your money on other priorities; like a new math textbook,” you ignore the subtle jab and walk to his car. No need to ask where as he parks next to you everyday to make sure he knows you’ve actually show up. Definitely not because your the first thing he wants to see in the morning.
“I don’t understand why you come to McDonald’s of all places,” he lets out a sigh, handing his card to the drive through worker. He drives up to the next window waiting for the food.
“It’s not healthy. You seriously should consider my offer in taking you to that new place down the street,”. He looks over when he doesn’t get a response; noticing the music blasting from your headphones as you look at the door. He sighs again before taking the food from the workers hand and grabbing your headphones. You turn your head to look at him but your gaze shifts to the bag in his hand. You reach over and grab a fry out of the bag and he s his eyes. Pulling into the parking lot, he silently watches you eat. This brings him so much nostalgia. He misses eating lunch with you everyday. Ranting while you just sit there and chew. He misses having someone listening to him about something that’s not related to school. After you stopped *attempted* talking to him in the beginning of 7th grade, his heart felt like it got ripped out of his chest.
He’s never felt anything his whole life. His father would tell him that one day he’ll find someone who makes him feel everything, makes life worth it. He’d seen the love shared between his parents everyday. He always wanted that. In the fourth grade all of that came true. He saw you getting off the bus making your way to school. He saw the way you helped up Michael Lemitzki, a dorky little boy, after Conner pushed him down. Shaggy hair, braces lining his teeth, comic books all on the floor. How pathetic. You weren’t scared of Conner at all. He was bigger than you and more popular than you, but you didn’t care. You kept a straight face as he threatened you and held your composure. No emotion showing whatsoever.
He thought you were beautiful. It was love at first sight. He was too busy staring at you to hear his father calling out to him. He followed his son's gaze to you. He looked back down at the small boy and gave a knowing smile. Takenya just stared at the other boy hugging you with tears down his face. Why is he touching you like that? Push him away already! That day he purposely made himself a target to the bullying of Melissa and Conner. Hoping that one day, you’ll save him the same way you did Jacob. He got bigger glasses, grew his hair out, and started dressing like the typical “nerd”. He would leave candies in your cubby, prized limited edition Pokémon cards in your backpack, brand new color pencils and markers showed up around you. He started to lose hope though. Why haven’t you noticed him yet!? Sure he’s never actually talked to you.. but still! Could you not see his effort?! Did you not care? He sat alone at recess that fateful day. He was randomly pushed down, papers and crayons flying out his small hands. He wasn’t in the mood for Connors teasing today. To caught up on the fact that the love of his life may never see him they way he’s dreamed of. Oh the dramatic mind of a fifth grader. He clutched the safety scissors that flew out of his pencil pouch watching the dick of an elementary schooler turn around. He was about to get up but stopped as he saw someone bend down beside him. It was you! You helped gather all his things and placed them into his arms. His heart pounded in his chest and the blush on his face spread like wildfire. Before he could say anything you walked away. Taking your place on the swing set. He hurriedly put all his things away before trying to build up the courage to come talk to you. He took to long, however, as the teacher soon yelled for everyone to make their way into the line back to their respective class.
As he reminisces on the past, an alarm rings. Telling him that it’s time to make his way back to school. You’ve already finished all your food and somehow managed to take your headphones back.
“What?” You say snapping him out of his trance. He didn’t even realize he was staring.
“Nothing,”
You make your way back to the school and go your separate ways. He walks you to class ensuring that you get there. Out the corner of his eye he sees someone wave to you. Lemitzki. His hairs more well kept, ditched the glasses for contacts showing of his green eyes. He’s taller and has more muscles now. The only thing that hasn’t changed is the jagged line that makes it’s way across his right cheek, interfering with his dimple as he smiles. It’s been awhile, the scar healed well. The once clutzy boy looks at the door and freezes, hand dropping and going pale. There’s a silent stare off between the two before the late bell rings. Takenya makes his way to class, a slight smile on his face at a sudden memory.
Watching him walk away, a fist tightens. Little does he know someone was planning on getting their revenge.
Hi loves! I hope you guys enjoyed. Take is an OC of mine I’ve had for a while just never had a name for him until now. Like his concept was in my head foreverrrr. He might be a reoccurring character. I really like him. But I did put one shot so I’m not sure. Lemme know what y’all want. Check out this post below for a little more context. Hope you enjoyed.
-Love, Sos❤️
3K notes · View notes
running-with-kn1ves · 3 months
Note
hii! i wanted to ask if you could do a yandere kidnapper x yandere darling? like rich depressed yan that can't imagine living without their darling and ended up taking drastic action, only to find out that darling is way more insane and obsessed passionate than they thought
A/N: I've never been super big on the yan x yan trope but I think this came out kinda cool! Hope this is what you were looking for <3
Synopsis: Sneaking into your beloved's bedroom bent on getting pictures for your stash, you're quickly found by him, who's surprisingly enthusiastic to find you breaking in.
CW: Kidnapping, mutual obsession, shrine dedications, murder (offscreen lol)
WC:3000+
Tumblr media
“Nice… new pics for the blog.” 
Your camera click click clicked with a shutter noise each time you rapid fired its capture button, eye so close to the screen you might as well be looking through the viewfinder solely itself. 
“I can see it now… his unkept bedroom revealed, beautiful little face plastered beside this… heap.” 
You looked at the pile of dirty clothes that had yet to be picked up by the estate's cleaning ladies. Well, if you were as filthy rich as he was, you’d probably do the same. Who would waste time cleaning their room when you have the whole world to see? Or in his case, a million press conferences to attend. 
Your eye was drawn to a slightly ajar closet, an odd lock seeming to have been hastily unfastened, now leaving the doors peeking open. Something red was inside. Oh boy, you could hardly contain your excitement. 
What kind of secrets would the famous, wealthy heir Elijah Walsh have in his teensy private closet? Mayhaps some drag dress up that no fan would expect? Dead bodies? Or even, the rumored cocaine stash his poor daddy was accused of hiding? 
You knew Elijah like the back of your hand, unable to imagine any kind of hidden truths that you haven't already discovered. For you, a superfan, (and ultimately, the soulmate he doesn't know about yet) were aware of far more than the average tabloid who didn’t cross trespassing boundaries for love like you had. 
You ripped open the doors without hesitation, snapping pics before even turning the light on. 
But what you saw, was something you weren’t sure you’d want to keep on camera. 
It was you. Well, a picture of you, from some yearbook or singled-out group shot that you couldn’t pinpoint the exact year from. Around your awkward grinning face was a series of items, pinned on a pretty red board like it was a crime scene of sorts. Or maybe… a shrine?
“What the f… is that my underwear??” You looked at the old pair of stretched out undies you had since middle school. Definitely not the pair you’d want some kind of stalker or investigator to get their hands on. 
You saw a few old chapsticks taped to the board, one of which you had been searching for in some old bag you swore you left it in. “I was looking for those!” You grabbed the chapstick and a broken brush, the exact same you thought you had thrown away months ago. 
Out of all the things you hoped to find-- used Q-tips, one of his musky jackets, maybe even some dark sex toys-- this wasn’t on your list. But you couldn’t help the spike in your heart, the flutter that made your toes point inward. 
You had been running this journalist (really a stalker-ish) blog on Elijah since before he got big in the press. You went to the same elementary school and for a short time in middle school, and ever since you couldn’t get his name out of your head. Now, you had a justified reason to keep tabs on him, since his family was currently in the public eye for a variety of deeds. 
Along with professing your obsession with him since childhood, your blog dated the shocking events of his controversies--  keeping it all under an anonymous pen name, of course. You had information news sites couldn’t get their hands on; the dedication you put into watching him was a trait of pride you could never let go. 
Memories of him comforted you at night, and seeing his pretty face in the grocery store magazines hoarded under your bed made you drift off to daydream land where, maybe, you’d be more than just some heavy breathing keyboard jammer fawning over him from a distance.. 
And here was, you. Your things. In his room. Even from the times you climbed the tree beside his window, you never saw this… anomaly of items. 
“What’s this even… mean.” You whispered, dumfounded and growing antsy. Elijah would be coming back now any second, the route of his driver dinging on your phone. 
‘Wait.. does he, know? That I’ve been watching him? Is this all evidence to… incriminate me??’
Worry was creeping up inside of you. But there was no time, not when a heavy vase clunked against your head from behind, letting out a resounding ‘crack!’ from the contact. The chapstick fell from your fingers, camera sliding with you as it lingered loose around your neck. 
The last thing you could think of before darkness hit, was ‘man, I hope I don’t fall on my camera… can’t replace it again. ‘
The unconscious darkness blinding your eyes was snuffed out what seemed hours later, replaced by a buzzing yellow light hanging from the ceiling. You groaned outloud, feeling groggy; an aching pain throbbed in your slumped neck and a sore bump on your scalp. 
‘Got a killer headache…’ 
You tried to pull your hands up to the bump to feel for a bruise, but fell flat with your arms tucked behind your back. You jerked them around, not realizing that they in fact were stuck together-- tied by rope, or some kind of fabric. 
“Thank god, you’re awake. Thought maybe I hit you too hard-- I don’t know what i’d do if that happened.” A familiar voice rang out in the musty, echoing room. 
“What…?” You croaked, trying to look up without facing the wrath of your headache the more light entered your eyes.
“Here, drink some water.” 
A bottle came in front of you, so close to your lips all you had to do was bend down to touch it. You did so without thinking, tasting the sandpaper of a tongue you were stuck with. As soon as the cool water touched your throat, you thought about potential poisoning. Who was this person bottle-feeding you water, why couldn’t you do it yourself?? 
You were too thirsty to care about the consequences, gulping it down as the bottle lifted higher to accommodate you. 
Letting out a pant, you sat back, trying to rub water off your lip with a shoulder shimmy. 
“Where am I? What’s going on--” It all started to come back to you, being in Elijah’s room, trespassing on private property, seeing the closet hoard of you. “Wait, please don’t report me, I promise it isn’t what you think it was…”
“Report you?” The masculine tone scoffed, a hand falling to your shoulder. “I was worried I’d never get a chance like this… you made it so easy, how’d you get in? The window?”
“...Yeah.” You sheepishly replied, looking up at your captor. “It’s not as easy as it looks.”
Oh shit. That was Elijah right in front of you. In the flesh, pretty pearly teeth grinning only inches away from your face as his hand rested on your left shoulder, gently massaging it.
“Is your head okay? I feel bad but.. I wasn’t thinking, could only think about how to keep you here.”
Keep you here? Oh no, does that mean the police are on their way??
“Now.. I don’t have to worry about sending people out to your apartment anymore.. No more security cameras, no more blackmail… just you.” He stroked the side of your cheek that was inflamed from falling against the floor. “Damn. I thought i’d have to go through the trouble of taking you in the middle of the night, I had just sent my driver out for my tools too- but, looks like that’s not even an issue anymore!”
Well, sounds like your fears about the cops was no where near the truth. But now, you were even more confused. Taking you? Stalking? Blackmail? It almost felt like you were listening to yourself talk for a second. 
Behind the dark glare covering his eyes, you could see Elijah’s trademark dimples, his pinkish lips covering the slight overbite he had, constantly showing off his front few teeth. You knew those downturned eyes were there somewhere, even with their shine dulled by the shadows of what looked to be a dark cellar around you. 
His hair was unkempt, thick, dark strands covering his ears and going so far to the base of his neck. Wow, you had never seen him look so scruffy, even when watching from outside, seeing him brush his teeth in shirtless pajamas. He looked worried, shirt untucked and pants wrinkled as he ran a hand through his hair. 
“And I’m sorry to say.. But don’t even think about trying to run away now. I made up my mind long ago, and if I find out that--”
“Urk, I wasn’t planning on it. I saw, the uh, dedication board. Or, shrine?”
At that, Elijah stopped. His baby blue eyes went wide for a moment, forgetting that was where he originally found you until now. 
You hid your head down in discomfort.  
“I have the same one…of you, in my apartment… in a box under my bed. There’s even a piece of hair from middleschool that I c..ut, from you.” You held back a nauseous gag at the admission. But here you were, this was your chance to prove how much you loved him, how much dedication you put towards understanding his every move, every like and dislike, the intricacies of his family history. “Do you know why I was in your room?” You asked, wondering if he already had seen your worship blog. 
Elijah took a step back, lowering to sit on a pulled out fold-up chair across from you. His knees touched yours, still dressed in his black slacks and matching loafers, rolled up sleeves on his cream-colored button up that showed he had taken liberties to get more comfortable for the night. 
“I’ll be honest I hadn’t contemplated that… just about how perfect of a chance it was, that you-- my uh, small, obsession since fifth grade.. Was here.” He looked down, a small red tint creeping from his cheeks to the rest of his face. He was bright crimson, like a kid again confessing to his crush behind the bleachers. “But you remember me?? From so long ago? I can’t… Its hard to imagine, i’ve been watching you for years and thought you had completely forgotten about me.”
“Are you kidding?” You watched Elijah rub his eyes, trying to hide his face behind his knuckles. “You’re all over the news, even if I wanted to avoid you. But I haven’t stopped following your every move since, I can’t remember. Every house change, new school, shopping trip with your mother… anytime I was free I dedicated it to watching you, or my--”
You cut yourself off, stepping one foot off into the deep end on a subject you desperately wanted kept hidden. 
“If I knew any better I’d say you sound like a bit of a stalker.” Elijah tried to hide his grin behind his hand, leaning forward to get a closer look at you. “What were you going to say?”
“My…blog.” 
“Blog?” He parroted. 
“It’s a…. Dedication blog. To you.”
“Oh, like an obsessed fan?” He jeered, laughing with bright teeth as he braced his shaking from on his knee.  “Don’t tell me-- you snuck in here for content to your blog?”
“No-! Well, yes. But some of it was going in my private stash…” You pouted, knowing you’d never get that chance again now that you’ve been discovered. Your days of fawning were going to come to a close. 
“So you must be the one who keeps finding a way to get pictures when I never see any reporters around. By, breaking into my home.” 
“That sounds really bad.. But I promise I wasn’t going to try to steal, or hurt you!”
That only made him laugh harder.
“I can’t… can’t believe I never saw you..” He wheezed, face flushed as you sat rotting in embarrassment and shame. “I had drivers chase after you for hours when you disappeared-- but you were five steps behind me the entire time!”
Drivers… your brain clicked two and two together as he tried to stop from giggling while hunched over. 
“...Drivers?” You question. No way this is what yout thought it was.”So you’ve been spying on me?”
“Don’t sound so offended, little stalker,” He settled down, a permanent smile still on his mouth as he dragged the steel chair somehow closer. “ You’ve been hard to catch, but i’ve been keeping tabs on you, as unseemingly as it is. I couldn’t do it myself but I wanted to make sure you were, okay. Before it was safe to bring you home. Though I had nothing to fear about you forgetting me at all!”
You swallowed, mouth having gone back to a dry desert as you contemplated what this all meant. YOUR Elijah was spying on you in your home? Sending out underlings to watch and make sure you were safe? The man who you’d lay your life down for? You fantasized, imagining him at your window, you-- freshly out of the shower…
“What do you mean by home? You don’t mean.. Here, in the estate, right?”
Elijah observed you so fully, it made you nervous. He had never given someone this much attention in interviews, nonetheless in the photos and videos you managed to snap of him alone. And he was looking at you, with those eyes. 
You didn’t know how much longer you could take it. Smelling his sandalwood with his knees pressing against yours, his finely ironed shirt toned against him-- right here, in the flesh. You always thought you’d be at a distance, never able to come in contact with him.. And now, you were tied up in his family’s wine cellar. 
“Of course my darling. Where else? I can’t possibly send you back to that dungeon of an apartment. And you,” He stood, intent on coming closer. “Came in so willingly, huh? Didn’t think you’d return my love so… earnestly.”
“W-well who said anything about staying?” You sputtered, looking at his eyes glower in an exceedingly dark fashion. “I mean…. You love me? I’d accepted I’d never be seen by you but… you’ve been watching, the entire time?”
He stood up from his chair with a slight creak, causing your neck to strain upwards to look at him. A small touch caressed the end of your chin, his finger smoothening as it lifted your head to meet his gaze. 
He hummed, Elijah’s eyes full of an expression you’ve never seen him wear before. Something in the mix of a sentimental possession, and a lover. But it was so tender, you couldn’t look away. It was so safe, so familiar. You recognized that look in the mirror, visible in your own eyes when you planted kisses on his printed photo taped to your vanity. 
“Haven’t been able to keep you off my mind since you plucked that leaf off of my spoiled head. Love doesn’t even begin to describe it. I need, you.” 
His gaze was so genuine, your eyes soothed by the glazed over grin he gave you, leaning down to hunch on his knees to be closer to you. 
“I…” You breathed, wondering if this was a dream. “I’ve wanted you to see me.. for so long. Is this real?” 
You stopped working. There was no chance that he had been watching you, wondering and waiting for you to recognize him, when you were longing for his attention, having convinced yourself long ago you’d only be able to possess him from a distance. 
Soft fingers that hadn’t worked a day in their lives creeped up your knees, Elijah’s face only inches away as his eyelids lowed, looking sultry as he watched you squirm. 
“I pray it’s not.” He exhaled. 
“...Well, I’m not staying tied up in this chair, no matter how much you beg. Though… I can’t say I’d mind staying with you. Being with you.. Here, together.”
“Good. It wasn’t really a matter of choice, anyway.” He grinned, pressing a slow kiss to your cheek. 
You involuntarily hummed in content, pressing closer to his lips as you arched out of the chair, longing to touch his warm body. He was kissing you; somebody get you out of these ropes before you jump the man. 
Elijah couldn’t help but grin like a maniac, drugged on the way you relished his touch and pressed your chest forward to him. He rushed kisses to your chin, bites to your ear and licks to your neck with a groan. 
But a sudden stop brought your blissfully closed eyes to an open. 
“I’m sorry… want you too much, it’s getting to the better of me.”
“I’m not sorry,” You mumble, hoping that if this was a dream, you wouldn’t ever wake up. “Please, don’t stop.. I’ve killed for this, don’t stop now.”
“You tempt me too much,” He chuckles, gripping the sides of your chair seat to stablize himself leering over you. “So lucky you were my little creepy stalker, and no one else’s. Wouldn’t be able to control myself otherwise.”
“Stalker, murderer of your old lovers… I have many names.” You joked, but the bitterness on your tongue remembering those placeholders you got rid of was sour. 
“Many talents, too.” Elijah’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re the one that caused my fiances to dissapear? I wondered how they kept doing that,” He looked keenly, seeing right through your little ‘joke’. “Even I couldn’t shoo my mothers’ arranged partners away.”
You tried to look away, embarrassment showing on the way you bit your lips clean and your heartbeat wrapped. “I did it in your name….  I couldn’t stand them thinking they were worth being so close and casual with you! It was infuriating every time I saw it I-- I just  couldn’t take it anymore. Even if it meant I’d never have you.” 
Elijah buried himself in your hair, holding you tight. The squeeze was so personable, hungry and desperate to hold all of you.
 “You have me now, you have me completely. I want you-- what a favor you have done, and you hadn’t even known.”
It felt so good, praised for such hard and hateful work you carried out. Their bodies were mangled, your rage manifesting in the corpses buried under the old golf course near your dingy apartment complex-- and he was happy you did it. Oh, you wanted to hold him, to smell him fully. These binds were stopping you from caressing the lover, the dream you had fantasized holding you to sleep so often, spooning the jackets and dresshirts of his musk in replacement for comfort. 
Elijah still snickered in your ear, playing with the tips of your hair.
“But now, I have to see this blog. I’m too curious-- though I can’t say seeing it will help my small obsession for you. A stalking blog-- too cute.”
You were still so shameful of it, now that he brought it up. You didn’t want your soulmate to see the virtual shrine you had dedicated to him, your unseemly thoughts and hungry urges that were far too detailed and graphic to be shared with their perpetrator. But what choice did you have? He’d find it, one way or another. 
“F..fine. But you’d you atleast untie me now? My arms are getting sore.”
That seemed to cease his light-hearted expression, frowning against your skull as he inhaled the sweet scent of your hair. It was the same as he remembered, now a decade later. 
“You’re not gonna try to leave, are you?” He murmured, caressing pinching your ear with a light tone. But something dangerous was held behind it. It was frightening.. But oh, as if the possessiveness didn’t fuel how much more your insides craved him. 
“Do you think I’d really try to go anywhere? Not when you’re so accessible to me now.” You looked over. Elijah’s lashes looked so long up close, sweetly deadpanned eyes watching as if you were being tested, hunted. 
He seemed to find your answer appealing, getting up and pulling something out of his back pocket. Leaning down once more, you saw the switchblade bobbing between his hands, a pretty and simple hunting blade. He leaned over you, pressing it against the knot above your wrists. 
You focused on feeling for the blade as to not get cut, only for your attention to be pulled back to the spoiled one-percenters lips pressing yours directly. It was a shock, more than anything. You wished you had seen it coming, wish you had been better prepared to share your first kiss with your darling! 
Elijah left your mouth nowhere to run as he pressed up against you, fervidly ensnaring your lips between his.
You gladly accepted the pull away for a second kiss, leaning up as much as you could while hiding your desperation. He was so soft, lips gentle and big as they enveloped your bitten ones. 
“Sorry,” Elijah broke away slowly, not straying far. “I’ve wanted to do that for ages.” You watched his eyes stare wonders at your lips, fingers brushing against your trapped ones from behind as the task at hand was forgotten. 
“Me too.” You uttered, pulling forward to kiss him again with an open, insatiable mouth. 
965 notes · View notes
they-bite · 2 years
Text
miscellaneous things i appreciate about wendell & wild:
-the nuance built into kat’s punkness. yes, she absolutely is a contrarian rebellious teenager, but it’s also genuinely how she’s always been. it’s not portrayed as rebellion for rebellion’s sake, it’s kat’s way of reasserting her identity and her connection to her parents when she’s spent years having her choices stripped from her.
-how many of the characters like kat. raúl sees a kindred spirit. siobhan wants to be her friend and is being kind in the way she knows how. sister helley reaches out to her even before she becomes a hell maiden. wendell & wild are in awe of her. ms. hunter doesn’t let her position prevent her from treating kat like an individual with agency and importance. it’s heartening that kat, a character defined by guilt both personal and state-issued, is coming into a setting where people genuinely want to see her thrive.
-the future sequence where it’s revealed she stays in rust bank and helps restore it to its former glory made me cry. it’s what they all deserve.
-no one has any “it’s my style” excuses for whitewashing when w&w gave us a litany of black characters with individually distinct features.
-even the demons have more emotional intelligence than your average corporate CEO.
-“you don’t get to smack me”
-when all that’s left of the memory monster is the memory of losing her parents, kat hugs it, letting it dissolve into her. she’s acknowledging that the choices she’s made and the things that’ve happened to her have gotten her to this point, but she’s absolving herself of the guilt — embracing her past instead of hating herself for it.
-raúl’s struggles as a trans boy aren’t framed as oppression porn. siobhan’s accidental deadnaming is just that — an accident— and undoubtedly one she’ll learn from in the future. his mother supports him without reservation. kat doesn’t even make note of it. they could’ve easily added catty smiles, tired sighs and “wait, you’re trans?” moments, but they didn’t. raúl is a human being whose transness informs his life without being crushed by it.
-siobhan’s arc is wonderful. she doesn’t become kat and raúl’s personal savior, she doesn’t angst over what she has to do, the story never becomes about her — but she uses her position (read: her class privilege) to do what she can. she becomes part of the solution.
-i know the last two points read like “duh, everyone should be doing that” but it’s such a relief to have a film get these things right, unapologetically so and without a core of virtue signaling. it’s nice to not have the stories we want told held for ransom, then declawed by producers because pissing off uninspired rich people would be bad for business.
3K notes · View notes
fredwkong · 11 months
Text
Genie: Marcus’s Wishes
Click here to see the genie’s first master.
Marcus wasn’t your average jockboy. In school, he had been the class queer, marked for bullying because of his femme interests and gay voice. Worse, because he was one of the only Black kids. At university, he’d caught the iron bug and gotten huge, but kept the femininity, too. Nowadays, even with his powerful bod and handsome face, he still got dirty looks for his paisley shirts, peppy attitude, and swishy walk.
It was somewhere around 3 AM, and Marcus was feeling well and truly used. He hadn’t been topped like Mr. Peters had topped him in… he didn’t know how long. The Daddy dom’s husband, Lars, had told Marcus that the couple never double dipped on a guy, which sucked, but Marcus had more than enough wank material from this night alone to get him through.
Lars, still naked, followed the half-dressed Marcus to the living room. Mr. Peters was lounging on the balcony upstairs, smoking. Lars was giving Marcus the instructions for getting to the main street in his thick German accent. The other boys had left a few hours ago to catch the last busses home.
Something caught Marcus’s eye in the dimly lit room. A glint of light off of brass, an old, traditional lamp sitting next to Mr. Peters’ humidor. “What’s that?” Marcus asked.
Lars looked at the lamp like he’d never seen it before. “Some object of Daddy’s,” he grunted. “You like it?”
“It’s beautiful.” Marcus was living in his own place for the first time, and he was starting to decorate. He drifted over and lifted up the lamp. He could base a whole room off of its aesthetics.
“Take it.” Lars waved away Marcus’s half-made protestation. “If Daddy thought it was important he would tell me,” said the German model. “It clashes with our decor.” He moved closer, and growled in Marcus’s ear, “You deserve a present for being such a good slut.”
An hour later, Marcus crashed into bed, not bothering to undress or unpack his bag, leaving the lamp in his gym duffel.
The next morning, he woke up late and made a protein shake for breakfast. As he chugged it, he pulled the lamp out of his bag. Held it up against different spaces in his apartment. It would clash with the Britney poster in the bedroom. Ditto for the Barbie display in his office. He settled on the entryway. He could get a pedestal for it and make an Arabian nook or something.
There was some kind of stain on the side of the lamp. Grabbing a hanky, Marcus started to rub it, but was interrupted as the lamp slid from his grasp and released a cloud of rainbow smoke. When it cleared, a burly Arabian man in a thong and a slutty stringer tank stood in Marcus’s apartment.
“Hey cutie,” said the genie. “Make me some wishes and I’ll get you hot.”
Marcus’s eyes caught on the genie’s ample bulge, and then he processed what he was being offered. In the second before he made his first wish, all he could think was masculinity. There was a corner near his apartment where Hispanic men gathered to shoot the shit in their jeans and tank tops. Their manliness was effortless, totally unstudied, what Marcus had dreamed of being in his childhood.
“I wish I was more manly, like a Latino guy.”
“Got it,” said the genie, with a snap of his fingers. “One Latino meatlover, coming right up.”
Marcus found himself surrounded by a cloud of orange smoke. It smelled like sweat and spices, and Marcus found himself inhaling it deeply. The scent blazed a trail through his mind, and Marcus started to think in Spanish rather than English. His university education vanished, replaced by the foundation of his own landscaping company at 18, and all the hard, manual labour involved in maintaining and building yards for rich, lazy white people.
At the same time, the smoke pumped up Marcus’s big Black muscles further, and lightened them to a sun-kissed tan. His hair straightened and retracted partway into his scalp, leaving him with a simple, masculine haircut. His dick and balls expanded, and the extra testosterone threw his already ripe armpits into overdrive, filling the room with the smell of his sweat. Finally, the last of the smoke thickened into threadbare white briefs, tight jeans, and a tighter tank top, an outfit fit for the masc Latino guy Marcus was becoming.
The genie snapped his fingers once again, and Marcus’s apartment became Marco’s house, a one storey bachelor pad full of thrifted furniture, hand-me-downs, and Marco’s curated selection of Tom of Finland prints hung on the walls.
Marco looked around with satisfaction, his big, callused hands on his hips. “Buen, cabron,” he told the genie in his deep, firm voice. “I need to go work now.”
Tumblr media
“See you tomorrow, hermoso,” said the genie, vanishing back into the lamp that sat on Marco’s living room dildo shelf.
During the day, Marco drove his pickup truck to the office, maintained the lawns for some clients, and handled everything it took to run his own business. He hadn’t done great at school—too busy working so his mami could rest—but once he’d founded the business he’d discovered a knack for accounting, so he sat in his air conditioned office to do paperwork while his college boy employees worked through the heat of the afternoon.
Well, he finished the work in an hour and spent another two sniffing his spicy pits while he tugged his thick cock.
After work, Marco drove home, checked his immaculate front and back yards for anything that needed maintenance, and fired up the barbecue. He didn’t realise he had cooked for four until he sat down at the table with a mountain of meat and no one to feed.
The next morning, Marco summoned the genie bright and early with his second wish. “I wish I had some amigos to share the evenings with.”
“Aww, you could have just asked,” the genie cooed, and blew Marco a kiss as he vanished, sending a heart-shaped orange smoke ring to hit Marco in the face with the scent of musk and spice. When nothing seemed to change, Marco shrugged and loaded up his truck for work.
At the first client’s house, Marco dealt with the usual white housewife cooing over his big muscles and blue-collar masculinity with a roll of his eyes. But then the woman’s son, a lean twunk home for the summer, stumbled down the stairs for coffee. He glanced at Marco, who was setting up the lawnmower, and saw a flash of orange light as his nostrils filled with the scent of the Latino’s musk, and his mouth with the flavour of unwashed Latin cock.
As Marco packed his truck back up, the twunk stepped shyly up next to him. At first, he asked the usual questions about Marco’s gym routine, but then Marco raised his arms, showing his hairy pits and releasing a cloud of fresh, sweaty musk, and the white boy seemed to swallow his tongue. He handed Marco a paper with his number on it and fled.
It was the same with every client that day. At some point while he worked at each house, a cute young white boy would walk up and hand Marco his number. Some were little femme twinks, others buff jocks, and a couple were cute hairy cubs. All were shy, pretty, and lived in the rich neighbourhoods Marco worked in. While he was in the office that afternoon, Marco was so busy talking to all his new boys that he fell behind on the accounting.
That evening, Marco’s house was full of the voices of hot young guys. They filled the dining table, the couches, and the patio Marco had built with his own hands. Marco barbecued to his heart’s content and wandered among the boys with his own plate. As he greeted each new boy, Marco instinctively pulled them in for a firm kiss and grope, then said “Hola, mi chiquita.”
As the night went on, the boys got rowdier and hornier. The rich, potent smell of Marco’s musk and the genie’s magic filled the rapidly heating space, and Marco found himself on his bed in a happy pile of rich white boys desperate to sniff and lick him all over. Just at the stroke of midnight, the genie heard Marco, facefucking a little twink while some jocks and cubs worshipped him, mutter, “I wish I could see myself fuck this little gringo.”
A blast of magic suffused every corner of the house with musky orange smoke. When it cleared, Marco’s bed was surrounded by film cameras, taking different angles as he shoved his thick Latin dick into the white twink’s throat. In the spare room, two of the nerdier boys sat naked at monitors and called shots for the stream. Each room had a camera setup, including a hidden corner on the patio and a secluded bower in the garden.
Once he was done with the twink and a sweaty musk worship session with a couple of jock boys, Marco got dressed for bed in a pair of stained white briefs and turned to camera one. “That’s all for tonight, gringos,” he told his viewers in an playfully thick Spanish accent. “Come back tomorrow once I’m done working hard on your lawns.” He fondled his pouch, and the stream cut.
Tumblr media
As Marco stood by the door, kissing his boys goodbye, one young lad caught sight of a weird lamp sitting next to Papi Marco’s dildo collection.
Idea with inspiration from a chatbot of my own creation.
Click here to see the genie’s next master.
Click here to see all the genie’s adventures.
782 notes · View notes
writing-mlm · 3 months
Note
Hey pookie, can I please request a Damian x male reader where they're enemies/rivals to lovers? Like both of them are the top students in their college and they tried to top the other by getting a better grade and showing it off to the other?
(can I please have soft damian too? Please 🙏)
Summa Cum shut the fuck up [D.W]
Tumblr media
Summary: Stanford was your dream and some rich kid wasn't going to stop that, but damn those party lights make him look really nice. Pairing: Damian Wayne x Male reader WC: 5.2k a/n: ngl in the first draft the roommate died and it was so left-field field I had to rewrite the whole thing
Summa Cum Lade and Valedictorian, that was the only option. 
Having been your high school valedictorian, gotten into the national honor society, and taking every single AP class you could all four years just for a chance at being at the top. Over seventy applications across the U.S. and every single one had a large accepted letter attached to it. It was your moment— Stanford was yours. 
You’d taken out loans for whatever your scholarships didn’t cover, like your meal plan and housing. But it didn't matter, you were prepared for anything and everything. Nothing was about to come between you and that number-one spot. 
Until you saw Damian Wayne. 
He lived across from you with your roommate's best friend, Jaime Reyes. But the two were painfully different and Jaime would more often than not hang out in the common area just to get away from their suffocating dorm. As such, their dorm door was painfully barren in the hallway filled with decorated doors. Not that Jaime didn’t try, it’s just Wayne would take it down as soon as he noticed. Not to mention Wayne had a thing for glaring at anyone who dared to knock on his door. Never mind that Jaime had been making friends left and right. 
You didn’t care at first, why should you? Some rich kid who doesn’t want anyone to steal his valuables. It’s whatever, not like it’s going to affect you. 
Until it did. 
The two of you happened to have most of the same classes, being the same major and all. And at first, you didn’t pay any mind to him, he was just another one of the kids in the sea of students until the first marking period came around. 
And his name was above yours. 
You remembered staring at your screen, looking at the 99.7% right below the 99.8%. It was the first time since elementary school that you had come in second. It made this feeling bubble up and you nearly had a breakdown. That feeling was pure hatred. This— this stupid rich boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth was not about to take away your goal. 
“Looks like you got competition,” Jaime had laughed from his dorm. You’d only heard it because you needed some fresh air before you tried to scoop your brain out. 
“The gap won’t be as small next time,” Wayne replied as Jaime opened the door. The two of you made eye contact while Jaime awkwardly tried to excuse himself to the bathroom. 
You’d be damned if you let some rich kid who probably bought their way in be better than you. 
You spent all of your free time at the school library or in the common area at night, studying and memorizing. Homework and projects were done in record time and you absolutely used the most out-of-office hours with your professors. All of whom were confused as to why their top student was coming in without needing any actual help. 
Test after test, you saw that the top two students were you and him. Your first finals were tough though. You probably averaged an hour's worth of sleep that entire week and drowned yourself in whatever textbooks or worksheets you could to prepare yourself. 
“(L/n),” Wayne greeted you as the two of you were in line at the TSA. Break officially started the next day but due to your finals being done, you got to leave earlier. 
“Wayne.” It’s a little surprising seeing the son of a billionaire fly commercial, let alone with Spirit Airlines but to each their own. You didn’t care enough to give it another thought. His eyes wander over you and he quietly hums. It doesn’t look like you’ve packed anything other than clothes and toiletries. And your electronics. 
He isn’t stupid. He knows you’re overworking yourself to be the best in school. He knows you obsessively check over the dean's list, that you probably have an alarm to make it a point to never drop below the number one spot for the freshmen. Overall, you rank three, which you’ll take. There are smarter people than you, just not anyone in your year. 
A part of him wanted to relax a bit, and make himself get a few questions wrong to ensure you remain in that number one spot. Maybe then you’ll ease up on yourself and not look like a zombie every single day. But he can’t bring himself to. It feels like pity and Damian Wayne doesn’t do pity. 
Besides, he’s never had someone to go head to head with him who wasn’t almost a decade older than him. To him, this rivalry was fun. To you, it was a means to an end. You felt that deep within you, you needed to beat him. If you weren’t willing to sacrifice your time and energy for that then what was the point in high school of isolating yourself? 
As the line moves up, you cover a yawn by rolling your neck. This stupid red-eye flight is worse than any final you’ve taken. 
You’re beyond tired and you’re sure your expression displayed nothing but that but you were counting on that nap in the flight to fix that. 
Thankfully, there’s not much of a wait as you’re at your gate less than half an hour later, checking in. 
“Oh,” The man at the desk pauses as he scans your ticket. You panic a little, did you get the dates wrong? The time? The location. Shit, maybe those hours of lost sleep had gotten to you. “You’ve been upgraded from economy to first class. Enjoy your flight.” He smiles and hands you back the ticket. You thank him and take your seat, silently happy you were going to sleep in first class. 
Returning to Stanford from winter break, you were happy to be back. You felt wasted— almost hollow not studying at home, as if nothing else mattered except studying. But your family didn’t let you get much studying in, after four months apart they missed you. A lot. And you went back to where your family was from to visit them instead of going home so you were never given a moment of
solace unless you were asleep. Your siblings and your extended family were always around you, asking you about college, how they’d seen your grades, and how exciting it was that you were in such a huge school. 
It also felt a little weird without having Wayne there. In a weird sort of way, you missed glancing at his results to see if he got higher than you. To share those smug glances as you passed each other to the showers. Like it or not, he’d become a staple in your day-to-day life on campus. 
You found yourself daydreaming about him being there as your family had parties and celebrations for various reasons. The holidays, your return home, and two birthdays happened in those two months you were away from campus. And they were sad to see you go for another four months. 
Of course, you returned with a bunch of gifts and mementos from your family. 
Wayne noticed it first, he saw you return to your dorm actually looking human. He’d gotten so used to the eyebags and the pain medications you’d take because the headaches were getting too bad, and the early signs of hand tremors you tried to shake off. A part of him was glad you were taken care of during the break, he’d seen a lot of people break down in Gotham for less and just hoped he didn’t have to deal with that at Stanford. 
Maybe he just didn’t want that to happen to you. 
But he doesn’t say anything. 
Instead, he watches as you fall into the same pattern. And no one around you seems to give a shit that you’re basically slowly killing yourself. He resents Frankie in a way, as a roommate and a friend of yours, he has the most power in that situation to force some sense into you. Instead, he jokes and laughs at your state, unaware of how damaging it truly is. 
“All that studying won’t help you much, (L/n).” Wayne says as he walks past you the second week back from break, two textbooks tucked under his arm and a cup of water in his hand. You glare at him but only for a moment before going back to reading. For some reason, you can’t really focus knowing he’s around you. Somewhere, probably watching you. Hearing him sit a table away, you check the time for the first time that night. 
4:34 am
What was he doing up so late? Normally, you had the common area to yourself at this time. No one in their right mind would be awake at 4:30. Maybe he was feeling the stress of the new classes, too. Or maybe Jaime was snoring too loudly and he figured since he was awake he should study, too. 
Either way, he wasn’t going to take away from your study time. He already occupied a space in your mind against your will. And that was more than enough. 
Feeling a yawn crawling its way up your throat you swallow it back down and reach for your cup of energy drink mixed with coffee when you feel something hit your neck. You can’t tell what though, as the second you feel it, you’re out like a light. You do feel a hand save your head from hitting the hard table, though. But it was the last thing you remembered from that night. 
“You’re finally awake!” Frankie, your roommate, greets you as he walks into your dorm with a slushie and cupcake in hand. You’re sitting, blinking at the floor trying to remember how you ended up in your room. 
“Did I start sleepwalking?” You croak out, your mouth dry and throat tight. Frankie only grins and sits on his bed, watching as your face scrunches at the pain. “God, did you leave the window open again?” Blinking over to the window, you see it wide open and groan, throwing yourself back down to the bed. 
“Wanna head down and grab lunch? It ends in like twenty,” He asks, grabbing his phone from his pocket and checking the time. “Nineteen minutes until lunch is over.” So it’s almost three. You’d slept most of the day but it was a Friday so you didn’t have any classes. You didn’t miss any classes, thank god. 
Then again, you could’ve been studying. 
“I’m good,” Standing up, you crack your back and sigh. Not that you’d admit it, but you needed that nap. “Gotta shower and study.” Frankie frowns, watching as you collect your stuff before leaving the dorm. As you leave, he sees Wayne exiting his room and the two of them make eye contact. He shakes his head and Wayne turns to watch as you leave before nodding to him and leaving. 
Frankie frowns as he watches you leave. You’re stumbling and still trying to shake the sleep off, unaware that your left pants leg was halfway up your thigh and the right one was somehow twisted around. He grumbles and rushes to catch up to Wayne. 
Half an hour later and you’re inside the library. There’s one seat you’ve always sat at and you’re glad to see it’s empty; seeing as you’d be spending most of the day there. 
Setting your stuff on the table that’s pressed against the wall and diving back into where you left off the night before. It’s perfect in the library, there’s hardly anyone inside and the temperature finally isn’t bone freezing or blistering hot. Your headphones are on and there’s no one around, so you’re free of any possible distractions. Not to mention not tired after your ten-hour nap. 
About twenty minutes into studying, you can feel someone behind you; staring. But it’s probably the librarian so you don’t pay it any mind and continue on with your work. The feeling stays for another minute or so, and it’s making you a little uneasy, the Liberian would’ve moved on by that point. Hell, you’ve moved on to your ten-page essay, having enough of reading from the illegal copy of the textbook you downloaded. 
Maybe you should just turn around. It’s probably someone asking for the wifi password. 
Another minute passed and suddenly a slight shadow was cast over your laptop. You can see the outline of the person and go to groan when Wayne sets a cup of your favorite drink and lunch down to your left. It effectively shuts you up, halting the annoyed groan you were fixing to let out. 
A nice gesture from him? That’s… strangely nice. 
“Thank you…?” Sliding the headphones off, you turn to see him but he’s already walking away. Weird. Looking at the food, you almost— almost smile seeing that the food had those protective films covering it. The film was covered in a thin layer of condensation, having been hot but lunch had since ended. Had he been looking for you all that time? 
There’s also a note on it. Grabbing it, you flip it over to read it. 
You need to eat and maintain a good sleep schedule to remain at the top. 
That’s all it says, but that’s all you need. The paper can wait and you basically know all the material by heart already. A break couldn’t hurt. 
“A hundred and two. Suck my dick, Wayne!” You grin, slapping your test down in front of him before he can pack his things up. He looks at the paper and then at you. His eyes flicker to the extra credit questions he didn’t have time to finish and it only makes you smile harder. 
“(L/n),” He greets with faux enthusiasm. His eyes flicker across your body in one motion that makes it look as if he is looking down at the paper again. “Don’t let it go to your head.” He’s reluctant to show you his score but you had seen the giant red 98 from three seats behind him. 
“Just let me know if you need a tutor,” Taking the paper back you wiggle it in his face one last time before leaving him alone and you hear him scoff as you walk off to your next class. 
It’s mid-February now and while California doesn’t get as cold as the more Northern states, it is a little chilly especially now that it’s started to rain. 
There’s not much wind, surprisingly enough, so you’re able to keep your umbrella stable as you wait for the campus bus to arrive. While you’re waiting, listening to some music and enjoying the clouds as they roll by, Wayne walks over. He doesn’t say anything, but he stands next to you. 
His hood is wet and he doesn’t have an umbrella, but he’s far from affected by it. You guess Gotham is normally colder than SanFran, plus you heard it rains a lot there. Actual acid rain. But you doubt that. 
“If this is you asking for me to tutor you…” He glares at you and then rolls his eyes. 
“I’m the last person on this campus in need of a tutor.” He snips, his posture getting a little straighter as he speaks. 
“And the only person who needs an umbrella.” You chide. He doesn’t argue that fact and you look down the road. The bus isn’t even in sight, and he’ll probably catch a cold if he doesn’t get dry soon. But if he’s sick he can’t do well— no, you need him at his best. Winning because your opponent cannot put their best foot forward isn’t winning.
That’s probably why he’d given you the food. 
Internally, you sigh and step closer to him. Just enough that the both of you are covered by the umbrella. 
“Thanks,” He mutters, pulling his wet hood down. The red Stanford hoodie is absolutely drenched but it’ll dry soon. Hopefully faster than the cold bus. His hair is a little wet, too. You never noticed the curl to his hair before. It looks nice. You hum and scroll on your phone with your free hand. 
“By the way,” He starts after five minutes of silence between the two of you. “I got a hundred on Professor Guetta’s exam.” The two of you have that professor, but not at the same time. Gritting your teeth, you have half a mind to move your umbrella but decide against it. 
“Don’t let it go to your ego, Wayne.” You’d gotten a 98, never mind the fact that you overslept and missed a good ten minutes and never got to finish the exam. 
“Never, (L/n).” He hums as the bus finally pulls up. 
Shutting the umbrella, you all but push past him to get inside and away from him. Never mind the fact that you can hear him snickering quietly. 
“99.” Wayne shows you his paper before you can even stand up. You stare at the paper and sigh. The two of you had been having this feud for two years now. One might think that as juniors in college, you’d give it a rest, maybe finally relax and actually put this… academic one-upping a rest. And you almost did. 
But going into junior year you learned who your roommate was. Somehow, by some stupid chance, Wayne had managed to be your roommate until senior year. And sure, you could ask to be transferred to a different room but it’s about the principal. If you ask to be moved then he won. And he wasn’t about to win against you— at anything. Which is why you always wake up at five in the morning. Thirty minutes before he does. It used to be later in the day, but he started waking up earlier just to spite you. 
And you’re too prideful to let that happen. 
“Same,” Showing him your paper, he grabs it and flips through both of them. You watch, trying to find the question the two of you had gotten wrong. Apparently, it was the same question. It makes you feel a little better, knowing it was probably an advanced question meant to trick students. 
He hands you the test back and you stand up. 
“Won’t happen again, though.” You say as you slip the paper into your bag. He watches and cringes— don’t you have a folder for fucks sake?
“Because I’ll get better marks than you, yes.” He adds and you suck your teeth, looking up at him. 
“Just worry about making sure your pretty face doesn’t get wrinkles, Wayne.” You tease and catch up to Frankie and Jaime at the door. They actually still lived on the same floor as the two of you, so you hung out whenever you weren’t studying. Which, admittedly, was less these days. Sometime during finals freshman year, you’d overworked yourself to the point of almost developing hypertension. 
Frankie greets you first, offering you one of the donuts he’d stolen from his job. Jaime waves, his mouth too filled with his own donut to say anything. 
“Some of us are heading to that secret tunnel under the south side of campus,” Frankie explains as the three of you walk to the courtyard for your hour-long gap. Wayne has a class, though. So he doesn’t join— not that he ever would, but sometimes Jaime offers. “Caddie, that Kappa Alpha Theta girl who’s majoring in political science—“
“Your ex-girlfriend,” You add and he huffs. 
“That too. She managed to get access to that tunnel and is planning a party. Booze provided. Friday night.”
“I dunno,” You frown, using your jacket as a blanket to lay your head on. “I got a pretty shit grade for the last test in Jenkins class and I gotta study.” The two sigh loudly and you roll your eyes. 
“You gotta study every single day!” Frankie reminds you, holding his phone above your face so you can see Caddie’s Instagram story. “One little party won’t hurt.” Looking at Jaime, you see
him pleading and let out a grumbled “Fine.” that the boys cheered at. 
“What did you get anyway?” Jaime asks once they stop cheering. 
“Lemme guess,” Frankie grins. “You finally got a 60?” You’d actually kill yourself. 
“No,” Rolling your eyes, you stare at a cloud that’s shaped oddly like a dog shitting. “I got a 90.”
“I fucking hate you.”
Friday rolls around and Frankie all but breaks your door down as you’re getting some last-minute work done. Nothing major, just some homework you’d been putting off and finally got to it with your downtime. 
“Does your incessant knocking ever work?” Wayne asks when he opens the door after two minutes of the knocking. He doesn’t say anything but it reminds him of his brothers. He’d been doing the same, but you recognized his work as some work you’d completed the week prior. What a slacker. 
“Not really,” He laughs, shuts your notebook, and tosses it to your bed. “Let’s go! Jaime has the car.” 
“You’re going to that party in the run-down tunnel?” Wayne raises an eyebrow as you rise from your chair, twisting your back to get out any cracks. He’d noticed your outfit from your normal loungewear but didn’t think anything of it. “Yeah, wanna come?” Frankie grins and checks the time. “We got time to wait for you, if you want.” While you hope he doesn’t, you sort of want him to. Maybe it’s so you both will lose time that could’ve been spent doing work, maybe it’s so you can have someone you know won’t do anything stupid at the party there. Maybe you just enjoy being around him. But Wayne looks between the two of you before he rolls his eyes and gets off the bed. 
“I’ll be ready in five.” 
And he was. 
The theme was Rave in a Cave, or whatever that meant. So you were inclined to wear neon clothes or something flashy. But you didn’t have anything of the sort. As such, a pair of shorts and a sweater will do. Wayne opts for a white T-shirt and black pants. 
“I won’t drink,” You offer as the four of you get into Frankie’s car. “You three can.” 
“I don’t partake in drinking,” Wayne adds as he puts on his seatbelt making you feel compelled to put yours on as well. “Especially in these settings.” He almost physically turns his nose up at the idea of drinking booze provided by people he doesn’t know, let alone trust. 
“Respect that, totally,” Frankie pulls out of his parking spot while Jaime plays some music on the speakers. He glances at the two of you but you’re busy on your phone and Wayne is making note of where the car goes to notice. Jaime smacks his arm and makes a motion that makes Frankie laugh. 
It’s not a long drive to the tunnel— but it does take a minute to find parking. 
“Why don’t you drink, if I might ask?” Wayne asks as the two of you trail behind Frankie and Jaime. They’re recording some videos and taking pictures that they’ll occasionally make the two of you join in. 
“I hate the taste,” You shrug. “And addiction isn’t something I’d want to fall into. You?” He moves to the side as a couple runs down the pavement wearing bright clothes and clearly already tipsy. 
“I’d prefer to be sober when I’m away from home.” He returns to his spot and his eyes flicker to the entrance of the tunnel. “So my actions aren’t due to an inebriated state of mind.” Humming, the four of you are allowed inside and there are a lot of people. 
Half of the student body must be inside the tunnel. It stretches for a couple of miles but gets blocked off by a wire gate. The walls are chipped and almost rotten looking with graffiti and posters messily placed along. There are color lights strung up along the walls and if they went out the place would be pitch black. 
The DJ is one of the music majors, you recognize him from one of the random people who followed you when your high school posted the school you were going to. He’s playing some loud ass music with extra bass that makes you cringe. 
“Here,” Wayne hands you one of the glow sticks turned into a necklace and you thank him, slipping it over your neck. He has one but it’s around his wrist instead. Frankie and Jaime went separate ways almost immediately— they asked first and you just nodded and went to a corner. 
How the fuck do you even act at parties. 
“Hi-hi!” A woman stands in front of you, dressed for a rave with a lot of Kandi bracelets running up her arms and those weed glasses. She’s in one of your classes. 
“Hey,” You offer a smile. 
“Saw you’re nervous! Rave virginity!!!” She laughs and looks along her arms. “Here, this is called a Kandi trade— but you don’t give anything.” She starts to pull off a large red and black cuff and motions for you to grab her hand. Against your better judgment, you do and she does some hand movements before she transfers the cuff to your arm. 
“That’s cool! Thank you!” She laughs again and nods, leaving you in the corner to do more trades. 
An hour or so passes and Wayne spots you in the sea of people. He sees you have a lot more jewelry on than when you first came and you’re enjoying yourself. Dancing and singing along to the music, jumping with others, and such. But he’s been keeping a close eye and knows you haven’t drunk anything. Not even the water bottle that was offered to you some time ago. 
He feels at ease with that and his eyes linger on Jaime. He’s impressed that… bug is keeping cool at the party and he sees Frankie laughing with some of the chem majors by the DJ, requesting songs. 
He’s been stuck to a wall for the entirety of the party, he didn’t even want to go in the first place. But he figured it would be best if he did, something in him told him that. And he understood why when he saw your face go from joyful to sour. 
His eyes scan the people around you and he sees something yelling at you. Their face was red from the alcohol and the anger they were feeling. He pushes himself from the wall and makes his way over to you. 
“Is there an issue?” He asks you, completely ignoring the loud guy. You give him a thank you look and shake your head. 
“Just some drunk idiot thinking I’m trying to hit on their date,” You snicker and he raises an eyebrow, seeing the drunk person now tongue-deep with their date. He looks away, almost embarrassed for them. 
“How fun,” He smiles and you laugh. He thinks that’s the first time he’s actually made you laugh from something that wasn’t you beating him. 
“Wayne, you dance?” You ask as the song changes to something made to move to. He shakes his head, unable to look away from you. “Me neither! But we should!” 
He agrees, forgetting his home training and dancing along with you. He’s sure at some point someone will hurt their ankle from the jumping and the very uncoordinated movements but he doesn’t care. Anything to relish in this moment. 
At some point the song changes and you're out of breath, dragging him to a wall to sit against. He wants to protest but he sees you’re sitting on fabric and not the ground directly and joins you. The little area is tucked into a divet in the wall, your backs to a cold, metal service door. So no one could step on either one of you. 
“Hey, Wayne.” You call and he looks over. His eyes trace over your face as you’re not smiling as hard but the excitement in your eyes hasn’t died out. Your forehead is covered in sweat and he has to stop himself from wiping it off. “I didn’t know you’d be such a nice party partner. We outta do this more often.” You look at him and admire his eyes. In truth, you’ve never given him a real look before. 
Sure, you know his eyes are green. But you never noticed how green, or how in this light you can see the rings of blue in them. Or how there’s tiny little white scars on the exposed skin of his neck. Or the scar above his right eyebrow. 
“We should,” He agrees and wow, you’re really close. You can feel his breath ghost over your lips. Tentatively, you look down at his lips as he licks them then back to his eyes. 
“Should we?” You grin, swiping your tongue over your lips. 
“Yes.” He nods and closes the gap. His hand holds your neck and you hold his collar. At that moment, as the butterflies are alive and well in your stomach, as his lips press to yours, as his grip pulls you tighter, you’re so glad he agreed to go to the party. Even happier than this action— that kissing him was a completely sober choice made by the both of you. 
This will either be the best or the worst decision of your life. 
A year after the party, Damian enters the dorm after finishing up his last class for the day. You’d been on your phone, checking up on your internship application before setting it down when he walked in. 
“I got a hundred on the fake final.” You grin, reaching over to pull him down onto your bed. He lets you, stopping his fall by planting his hands on either side of your head. He shifts his legs so one is between yours and the other is locking your left leg between his. You’ll never understand his upper body strength, but you’d definitely never complain about it. 
“Me too.” He smirks and kisses the corner of your mouth. You frown and grab his face, pulling him in for a proper kiss. He adjusts himself on the bed by moving one arm to slide underneath you and you love that feeling. Your hands slide from the sides of his face to his shoulders, pinching the fabric to try and get it off. 
“Lock the door next time,” Jaime groans as he walks into the room. Damian pulls away and glares at him. You roll your head to see him and not very discreetly try and wave him away. “Aye, I’m just here for your charger. Mine broke and you’re rich.” He holds his hands up, showing Damian’s charger and the two of you watch him leave. 
“I’m getting the higher score on the final,” You tell him once the door shuts. He looks at you, an eyebrow raised before he gets up to lock the door. 
“Doubtful,” He grins, returning to his previous spot on top of you. His eyes scanned all over your face and his hand traced along your hairline. “I’m still on top.” His eyes flicker to yours and you scoff. 
“Pretty sure you bottom,” 
“Just this once.”
247 notes · View notes
theodorecanaryhood · 2 months
Text
A love story: the Jock and the Geek
Jason Todd x Male! Reader
Warning: some bullying, homophobia, sexual harassment and sexual references
Tumblr media
The hallways of the school were built like a wall of pain, you got sick and tired of hearing people say high school were the best years.
You clutched your books to your chest as you roamed the hallway, going to your next class.
A group of boys cheered as they tossed the football to each other, wolf whistling as the cheerleaders walked by.
Skin tight tops with short skirts, faces masked by beauty products. You envied that you were average looking. You envied that they all had someone to call their own.
‘Stacey, you and Jason coming to my party tonight?’ Hilary asked, her Afro hair falling down to her shoulders.
Stacey, the pretty blonde cheerleader nodded, shutting her locker.
‘Obvy, I’m hoping me and Jason will finally make out tonight’ Stacey tells her bestie.
Truth is Jason Todd is this big jock, rich daddy and drives a Porsche, however he is not shy of taking his time.
You pushed your glasses up your face as Mike, another jock, pushes you into your locker, knocking your books out your hands. Your printed knowledge scattered the floor.
‘Watch where you’re going queer’ Mike laughed as he saw you rushing to grab your books from the floor.
Mike and his buddies high fived as they watched you in amusement, Hilary gave a look of sympathy as she watched you.
‘Let’s go’ Stacey grabbed Hilary’s arm and the two left you.
‘Is this yours?’ Jason asked as he handed you a sketch book.
You nodded as you took it from him, Jason looked at the opened page as he admired your work.
‘This is some good work y/n’ Jason praised, you seemed surprised as you never realised Jason even knew your name.
‘Thanks’ you replied shyly, Jason handed you the sketch book.
‘You have Chem next right? Mr Ward is an asshole sometimes. Coming to Hilary’s party tonight?’ Jason asked.
You nudged your glasses up your face, shaking your head.
‘I’m not invited, I’m not cool enough’ you sighed, Jason looked a little sad.
‘I invite you, you should come, you’ll have fun’ he said as he placed your bag on your shoulder.
You couldn’t get Jason out of your head for the rest of that day, you smiled thinking about him.
‘The fuck?’ Mike snatched your sketchpad from your desk and held it up.
‘Hey, give it back’ you shot onto your feet trying to grab the book back.
Mike held it up in the air so you couldn’t reach it, laughing as chaos continued in the classroom.
‘Guys look, faggot y/n has a crush on Jason’ Mike said as he held up the sketch of Jason for everyone to see. Including Jason.
You ran out of the classroom as Mr Ward scalded Mike for his outburst.
Hilary felt the urge to go find you, but her body didn’t catch up.
The debate you had over going to Hilary’s party made you think hard, you’d been humiliated in front of all these people and now you have to face them.
You stood outside Hilary’s house, finding yourself there all of a sudden.
‘What are you doing here?’ Stacey asked as she saw you walking inside.
‘Hey y/n you came’ Jason cheered as he rushed over to you, his girlfriend giving Jason a weird look.
‘You invited him?’ Stacey asked, Jason nodded with a smile.
Hilary walked over and gave you a small hug as she welcomed you in. Jason walking with you to get you a drink.
The incident in the classroom was never mentioned, and Mike didn’t see you the whole night.
You felt attracted to Jason and Hilary picked up on it, but you were painfully shy you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything.
Stacey wandered off with a jock, Brian, and was gone for a while. Jason couldn’t find her when it was time to go home.
‘Has anyone seen Stacey?’ Jason asked, the remaining guests shook their heads.
You stood in the hallway of the house as Jason could be heard yelling, Stacey got fed up of waiting for Jason to make a move. So she made a move, with another guy.
Some time went by and you managed to get away from the drama, but every now and then Mike would still torment you.
‘Hey’ Hilary smiled as she sat opposite you, the littered floor of your books.
You smiled a little as she sat on the couch opposite and began reading.
The library was quiet, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, you closed your books as you took your glasses off and cleaned the lenses.
Hilary waved as you went to go back to class, Hilary left the cheer squad after the big fight at her house.
Jason seemed angry most of the time and didn’t want to talk to anyone, the two of you were partnered for Chemistry. Then History.
Jason was only interested in talking about the work and didn’t want to engage in small talk. Though you weren’t offended, you figured he was embarrassed and going through stuff.
‘So, we need to study outside of school, is it ok if you drop by mine tomorrow after school to study?’ Jason asked, seemingly in a better mood.
You agreed, wanting to spend as much time with your school crush. Nothing would ever come from it, but you could enjoy it while it lasted.
Your glasses were tucked away as you walked to the front gate, an older gentleman was in the garden.
‘Hello sir, can I help you?’ The older British man asked, with a smile.
‘Hi, I’m y/n I’m looking for Jason?’ You asked, the older man rose to his feet.
His gardening gloves covered in mud and leaves, he pointed to the window to the left of the house.
‘Master Todd is just in there, go ahead in’ The older man said, you thanked him as you walked into Wayne Manor.
The Manor was built to the same level you would expect as a palace, but it wasn’t overdone. Considering where Jason lives, he isn’t a spoilt rich kid.
‘Hey y/n’ Jason greeted you as he spotted something different about you.
‘Hey, you have a nice house’ you smiled, visibly impressed as Jason studied your face.
‘Where are your glasses?’ He asked you, you pointed to your bag.
‘I have contacts in’ you revealed, Jason smiled a little.
‘You look better with glasses’ he said, pulling your book out your bag.
The two of you spent more time together as friends as well as study buddies, and you found yourself falling in love.
The walls came crashing down as you spotted Stacey rubbing Jason’s arm, the school hallways began feeling like they did before.
‘Stop touching me’ Jason barked, pulling his arm away from her touch.
You heard the interaction as you watched frozen, Jason visibly annoyed.
‘Baby please’ Stacey pleaded as she grabbed Jason’s arm, him shoving her arm away from him.
‘Fuck off, slut’ Jason said as he walked away, Stacey stood sad as her ex boyfriend walked away.
You did feel a little sad for Stacey, she knew she’d done something wrong but she also felt she couldn’t right her wrong. She had an amazing guy, she couldn’t be patient like Jason and lost him.
Study dates together seemed a little different as Jason had fire in his eyes, he seemed annoyed but never with you.
Jason became sweet with you but never pushed you, you felt like there was a little spark there.
‘You wanna hang out somewhere other than my house some time?’ Jason asked out of the blue, you seemed a little nervous to answer.
‘Yes’ you answered, a few seconds of silence as Jason smiled ear to ear from your answer.
The two of you began hanging out at other places, the diner, coffee shop and even just walking through the park together.
You kept feeling an urge to just kiss Jason, hold his hand. But you were scared of his reaction. Jason never had an issue with the fact that you’re gay, he never had any idea that you’re falling for him.
The TV screen lit the dark room as the two of you sat on Jason’s bed, the PS5 controllers in your hands as you played against each other.
Jason kept beating you in the game and the two of you laughed as you played, Jason howled with laughter as he commented on your playing skills.
‘You’re shit, like so bad dude’ Jason laughed as you nudged your glasses up your face.
‘I’m more into books bruh, video games are new to me’ you laughed along with Jason.
You both got closer, Jason looked into your eyes as he smirked a little. Your heart thumped in the ears as Jason seemed to lean in a little.
‘Fuck it’ Jason whispered under his breath as he connected his lips with yours.
It made your heart scream in joy and happiness as Jason pulled you into his lap. Taking your glasses off of your face, placing them onto his bedside table.
Jason’s hand on your face, fingers crossed over the side of your neck as your legs were opened, welcoming Jason.
Jason’s hot breath mixed with yours as he thrusted deep, making you pant a little.
The feel of Jason’s skin in yours, the feel of his body. The feeling of his manhood inside you made you feel incredible.
The sun hit your face as you woke up, the most amazing dream the night before, as you realise it wasn’t a dream. Jason’s naked body lay next to you.
You ran your hand down his chest and abdomen, feeling his tight abs. His strong muscle, the arms that held you in place all night.
‘Morning love bug’ Jason smiled as he saw you awake, you rubbed your sleepy eyes with a smile as Jason leant up and greeted your lips with a morning peck.
You stretched a little as you rose to your feet, a little lightheaded and your anus feeling a little rough.
‘Shit, it’s 10am? My dad’s gonna be home soon’ Jason saw his phone screen as he rose to his feet.
Towering at 6’3 as you stood at a shorter height, you were supposed to be home hours ago. Your parents were probably not going to be happy with you for staying out.
Jason kissed you goodbye as he promised you’d hang out again soon, your walk home was a little different as you still felt a little tired and sore. But it felt nice.
Jason was the first guy you’d had sex with, he was sweet and gentle when you told him you’d never had sex before.
The two of you began going on dates, officially, and Jason began to open up about his repressed homosexuality.
He dated Stacey because he thought he had to, not because he liked her. Jason took her adultery as a blessing in a way, it gave Jason the escapism he needed to be him.
Jason held your hand through the school hallway, everyone stopping to look as they saw you and Jason together.
Stacey spotted it and felt ashamed of herself, seeing Jason got the right person in the end.
Hilary smiled at you two and ran over to hug you both, congratulations being received as she walked with you two.
Graduation, Prom, College, Red Hood being born, you were with Jason through all of it.
10 years together and paying a mortgage as the two of you stuck together, you worked on your arms and legs a bit more.
Growing and building more muscle, Jason cooked naked in the kitchen after a heated night.
You admiring the view of his back and chest, not being able to stay away from him too long. Jason greeted your lips like a reward.
Celebrating festivities at Wayne manor as Jason held you on his lap, smiling brightly as he fluttered kisses on your shoulder every now and then.
Hilary was married and expecting her first by now, you were still best friends and of course, soon to be god father to her baby girl.
Life had a way of working out for those who waited, Jason waited for love and you waited for Jason. It worked out amazingly for the two of you, the two of you lay in bed together as Jason slept laying on your chest.
You stroked his hair, Jason sleeping soundly on you as he dreamt sweetly. Jason felt like he was the luckiest man alive to have a boyfriend like you, and you had won the lottery.
Tumblr media
200 notes · View notes
stay-tiny-ville · 4 months
Text
Hwang Hyunjin
Summary ~ lovely boy :( (Or dating head cannons for Hwang Hyunjin)
A.N. - ONE MORE TO GO WHOOOOOOO
A.N. 2 - if my describing of your relationship growing up didn’t make sense I’m sorry I don’t know how to word it 😭😭😭
———————————————————
Muse, love, beautiful, dove, love, angel, Cara Mia, mon Cher are a few names he’d give you def a lot of “my love”s in another language
Ive heard some mixed opinions (well not that many but a couple) saying that he would be reserved and only lovey behind closed doors
However i argue the opposite and agree with the positions on him being a true hopeless romantic at heart
Tall boy loves holding you as you sleep
Obviously wakes before you (Probably) with his horrendous schedule and just has a true “this is life, and i am living and loving being alive” moment when he just gets to look at you all peaceful and beautiful in his arms
Covers the corners of things with his hand so you don’t hit your head
Stfu he would paint you
Your hands, your face, you two together, or he would take a stab at paintings that are simply based on the memory/emotion but not paint the memory (like he would do that thing where people can see sounds and he would try to imagine your laugh and paint it-i'll die on this hill)
Taught you how to waltz anD DANCES WITH YOU ON THE BACK PORCH UNDER THE MOONLIGHT SOB
So dramatic like will burst into tears if he gets a paper cut or stubs a toe (i mean yeah it hurts but he’s dYING)
Unlike some of the members like Chan, he’s always with you, like you’re never alone and if he’s at rehearsals? Oh look, you’re here too. Meeting with JYP? Oh, can you come in too? He’s going shopping? He’s at the red carpet for versace? He’s-
You get it
Spiritually and physically attached
Spins you all the time
Context: every single time you come out of the bedroom after getting ready to go out or simply just coming out of the room he takes your right hand with his right hand and twirls you into his side before a required temple kissy and moves on/out the door
Required ritual or the world ends
I imagine you two as childhood best friends (yes, THAT trope) and i don’t necessarily think of it as one of you had a crush on each other as you grew up, you just grew up together in love as if it’s what you were taught to do
When you went to school and learned about the different types of emotions or had the healthy relationship talk you didn't think anything of it
I didn't know what love felt like until I turned 18 and you thought this adoration was a normal feeling
Until your friends talked about their lives and you realized most people don't have a bond like you do, most people don't feel like you do about your soulmate Jinnie
You didn't feel this way about the crushes you’ve had previously
Normal people don’t always put their one friend before everybody else
Either you went straight to Hyunjin and talked about it because you could talk to him about anything or not, he would realize the same thing, i can’t say if it was slower or faster than you, it depends i suppose
But i imagine the transition was just from the average hugs and hand holding and kisses on the forehead that were just normal things with no thought behind them became ones with love behind them
Puts you before himself
You’re cold means trade cold for his jacket he will suffer instead
You’re sick he’ll sacrifice his health to cuddle and coddle you all day long
You haven’t been eating well/at all he’ll give you his food after rehearsals
Lays his head on your chest
He’s baby :(
SLEEP ON YOUR CHEST AAAAAAAH
Like I haven’t thought about who cuddles how and who is big or little spoon but Hyunjin loves to just lay on your chest or lap
HES BABY
Please he’s dress you up in rich ass clothes even if it looks putrid together
The softest with you when you’re upset :(
Like you’d just not be doing too good be it sad or bad day and he could tell because you weren’t responding as energetically to his jokes and funny haha’s (please that autocorrected to Gaga’s) and his smile turns into a frown and he’d stop you from walking away by grabbing your shoulder that was farthest from him and turned you to look at him
When you kept your head low he ducked to meet your eyes and the sadness/tiredness in the made him sad :(
Takes care of you all day and sits with you on the floor in front of the couch on the fuzzy (I imagine white faux fur bc he’s bougie) rug
You sit in his lap facing him while his back is against the couch and he doesn’t break eye contact to let you know he’s listening so whenever you look back up at him from messing with his clothes he’s looking right at you
Please he’s so baby I could write so much more about hopeless romantic baby Hyunjin
ASO RQ I AM FOREVER OBSESSED WITH BOTH RED HAIR HYUNJIN (which is a trade of passage for Stays at this point) AND MAXIDENT TASTE (which is such a banger I will die on this hill again) SHORT BLUE HYUNJIN HAIR AAAAAAAH
N e ways he’s baby and so so lovely I love
153 notes · View notes
chenya-my-love · 20 days
Text
Malleus x Yuu x Ace
So the fandom as a whole seems to agree on two things. Malleus's feelings for Yuu can easily be interpreted as less than platonic, and that Ace has the fattest crush on Yuu.
And a handful of people have written a love triangle between the three. But almost all can be summarized as "Ace takes an L". But I don't think people see the angst on both sides.
Ace is socially aware, he can tell from a mile away that Malleus has feelings for Yuu and wants to be with Yuu. And he is also aware the he can't compete with Malleus.
Malleus is one of the top 5 mages in the world and literal royalty. What's Ace? An average boy who lives an average life. The most shocking thing he did was manage to get into the prestigous Night Raven College, and he isn't excelling. His grades are nothing impressive and he doesn't even have his unique magic yet. Plus chances are when he graduates, he'll return to having a normal life.
Malleus can give Yuu the comfortable life that Ace just can't. If Yuu marries Malleus they live a great life as royalty. They have riches beyond their comprehension and a powerful dragon willing to go to the ends of the world for them. In the end Ace just can't compare. He's nothing compared to Malleus.
But then you have Malleus, and he can see the difference between the relationship he and Yuu have and the relationship Yuu and Ace have. While Yuu is kind and friendly to Malleus and clearly cares for him. It doesn't take a genius to tell that Yuu is more comfortable with Ace, Ace was their first friend in NRC after all. They have sleepovers and eat lunch together and have study sessions. While him and Yuu just don't. He's aware that Ace and Yuu are closer.
And he's also aware of what the royal life is like beyond the glamor that normal people see. He knows about the struggles and the isolation that comes with it. And he's just a prince, imagine how much worse it is as a king. He's also aware the prejudice the Briar Valley has toward humans. Sebek didn't get his views out of nowhere after all.
He's aware that marrying a human wouldn't magically fix the issues in the valley, it would be a bandage over the issue if not make the issue worse. Especially if him and Yuu managed to have a child, it would likely leave a bad taste in the Valley's mouthes that an average citizen of the valley is more fae then the literal heirs to the kingdom. He's aware of the strife Yuu would face if they entered a relationship with him.
So Malleus knows that Ace can give Yuu something that he simply can't. Normalcy. If Malleus and Yuu entered a relationship, Yuu would be unable to see the world like they want, and even if Malleus managed to take a day or two off to have fun. Him and Yuu wouldn't be normal. They would be stared at as the royalty of the Briar Valley. They couldn't have a normal moment.
While Ace could give Yuu and normal life. If Ace and Yuu got married than they could live in the Queendom of Roses, a place with a high human percentage. They could work normal jobs and be able to squeeze in the life that Yuu deserves. Yuu can be a normal person with Ace. Yuu can live a normal life with Ace.
Both of them are in a battle for Yuu's heart but both think they have already lost. Because they're both so different on a fundamental level, that they know that they could never give Yuu the same life and both think the life the other could provide is better.
140 notes · View notes
wolfiesmoon · 6 months
Text
Dark chocolate
Reo x fem!reader
He could have anything he ever wanted, but the one thing he can't buy with money is your heart (can you tell this is yet another nerd girl x popular boy nuisances to mutual crush fic)
HAhah my blue lock debut🥳🥳🥳i'm making back to back fandom debuts
@noomon since you asked to be tagged (* ´ ▽ ` *)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It almost feels like he gets a new confession every day. It's safe to say he is very popular with the girls at this school. Even if it is for mostly shallow reasons.
Day after day, he receives a letter in his locker, asking him to meet behind the gym or something like that.
But the thing is, he isn't interested in any of these people. So he doesn't even give them the time of day.
The only one he's interested in is you, a girl in his class. But what is he to do when you never give him the time of day?
To you, Reo is a massive nuisance. You have no idea what made him like you and you don't care. Because the last thing you want is a stuck up rich boy as your boyfriend.
You came to this school to study and nothing more. You're not here to date or whatever else school isn't meant for.
(One exception is your singular friend.)
But no matter what, he never seems to give up on chasing after you. Even though there are far more beautiful and willing girls for him to date.
"Girl, just give him a chance. He's only got eyes for you." your friend nudged you as the two of you were eating lunch.
"And give in to him? Are you crazy?" you said with a straight face, continuing to eat.
"Oh, sorry. I only forgot that I'm friends with the most petty stubborn person in the world." your friend rolled her eyes, not understanding why you keep on rejecting Reo. He's rich, he's popular, so what's the hold up?
"Seriously, you're not 'giving in' to anything if you accept his confession."
"But I am losing my pride and my dignity. By the way, your food's getting cold." you replied simply, already getting a bit annoyed that your friend won't shut up about him.
"Girl, I lose hope in your romantic future every day."
"Good."
.
"Hi." he greets you at the school gate, as he does every day. And you ignore him, as you do every day.
"It's rude to ignore someone, you know that?" he joined you by your side and you just subtly rolled your eyes. You don't have time for this today, you have an early library study session to be getting to.
"My answer is no." you crossed your arms.
"I didn't even say anything, though." he gave you that stupid wide smile that you hate looking at so much. It's annoying how... uhh, above average his looks are.
"Would it kill you to stop bothering me?" you finally asked what you've been wanting to for the past few months. You have no idea how it took you so long to be harsh and honest about your feelings.
"What? I'm not bothering you." you had no idea if he was actually this dense or just pretending to be. You don't know him all too well, after all. But considering the fact that he's a student at this prestigious prep school, you think it's the second one. Unless his parents bribed the school to let him in.
"Seriously? Just leave me alone. I am not interested." it kind of felt good to admit that out loud. Directly, with no sweetened phrases to lessen the blow.
He looked away for a second. "Sorry, it's not that easy."
You looked puzzled. His tone didn't suggest arrogance or smugness. It was a quieter and thoughtful tone, something that doesn't seem fit for a stuck up rich boy.
How... strange. No, wait, what do you care?!
"You're... different. Unlike any other girl in this school." the strange tone still remained.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." you sped up your steps, leaving him behind. You missed the worried look that crossed his face for a moment. To you, those words must have seemed like empty flirty comments.
But he meant it. You're a challenge to win over. To win over. Not take. You're the one girl in this school who won't just throw herself at him and somehow, that made him fall for you beyond belief.
Seeing as all you do is study and occasionally share a few words with your friend, he had a feeling boys weren't a priority for you from the very beginning.
But he'll make one boy a priority for you. Himself, of course. And he'll go through any means to achieve that goal.
.
"Girl, valentine's day is almost here!" your friend shook your shoulders, taking your attention from the notebook you were dutifully reading.
"So?"
"So, I am TOTALLY making chocolates for my crush and you should join me." she shook you again, making you furrow your brows in annoyance.
"Why? I have no one to give chocolate to."
Your friend smirked.
"No. No, absolutely not." you immediately shot her down, already knowing who she was talking about.
"Oh come on, you can still spend ungodly amounts of time studying while having a boyfriend. A hot rich boyfriend, at that." you weren't sure if she was doing this out of free will or if Reo was bribing her with copious amounts of money to get her to say this.
You sighed. You had a feeling your friend was going to be extra stubborn about this for the entire week leading up to valentine's day if you said no right now.
Your best choice was to resign to her and make chocolate for Reo.
And besides, you can just leave the chocolate on his desk anonymously if you come to school early. They don't mean anything to you, anyways.
"...Fine. But don't get any ideas, I'm only doing this because you would annoy me if I didn't." you raised the notebook back up, indicating the end of the conversation. You watched your friend jump with glee out of the corner of your eye.
.
"You should totally make dark chocolate for him." your friend suggested out of the blue as you were collecting the stuff you need to make chocolate.
"What does it matter?" you sighed, wondering what stupid reason your friend had this time.
"Dark chocolate seems more luxurious, don't you think? And besides, I heard that Reo isn't big into sweets. I'm sure he'd enjoy something healthier." she reasoned, seeming proud.
You pulled out your phone. "Hey, what are you looking at your phone for?!" your friend asked, offended that you aren't looking for the perfect meltable chocolate with her.
"Oh, nothing, just looking up the most sugary kind of chocolate." you shrugged.
"Damn, you're evil. Mikage-san's fallen for a baaaad one." your friend hit you lightly, feeling a little bad for Reo.
You looked at the meltable white chocolate on the store shelf, then at the meltable dark chocolate right next to it. You have no idea what possesed you in that moment, but your hand instantly reached for the dark chocolate.
You had to ignore your friend's smirking throughout the rest of the shopping trip.
.
"There! Ahh, these look so cute! All those tutorials helped out A LOT! My crush will totally fall for me after eating these!" your friend kept on gushing at the chocolates the two of you made.
"Mine are very sloppy." it was just a simple observation on your end, but to your friend it must have sounded like a discouraged comment.
"It's okay, girl! I'm sure he'll love them regardless of how they look!" she hugged you, patting your back encouragingly. Sadly, you don't have the heart to tell her that you'll just drop them off anonymously without a care in the world.
But, somehow... that seems wrong to you. Should you do that?
Dammit, this is all messing with your head. Who cares about Reo?! You're just doing this to appease your friend, nothing more.
.
"So, the day is finally here, huh?" your friend surprised you from behind just as you were about to leave the chocolate on Reo's desk.
"W-What are you doing here so early?" you quickly hid away the little box of chocolates, trying your best to act normally.
"Oooh, are we nervous?" your friend smirked.
"Speak for yourself. And answer my question while you're at it." you retorted, clearing your throat. That was far too close. But, how are you going to get rid of this chocolate without giving it to Reo directly and convincing your friend you did all at the same time?
Maybe you should just give up and do it. But your pride just won't let it happen. Not like this...
Later that day, you walked past Reo as he was receiving chocolates from two other girls. However, his eyes were on you the entire time. He seemed to be looking at you with expectation and you grit your teeth at the fact that he is, in fact, correct in expecting a valentine's gift from you.
As you turned the corner, your friend was waiting for you behind it. "What are you waiting for, girl? He's all alone now."
The girls that gave him the gifts seem to have already left. Oh no, this isn't good at all.
"Listen, I-"
"Oh hell no, you are not running away this time. Now go out there and make things happen!" your friend pushed you out from behind the corner, with you almost bumping into Reo.
"Hi!" he greeted you, a little more cheerfully than usual.
"Hello." you forced a smile. You silently took out the chocolate and handed it to him. You watched his eyes travel down to the chocolate and then widen.
"Wait... for me? Seriously?" He took the chocolate out of your hands, smiling happily. His cheeks seemed to be turning a pretty shade of pink, too.
His face isn't half bad when it looks like that, you must admit. Though, that doesn't mean anything. Reo's just handsome in general, that face is meaningless to you.
"Don't get any ideas. I'm only doing this out of obligation." you ignored the daggers being shot at you from behind. You can already imagine the earful you'll get from your friend.
"That just means I'll have to try harder, though." he gave you a big, wide smile. The kind that you've never seen on a guy in real life before. But to be fair, you don't look at guys all that much.
Still... Why is your heart beating so fast right now?
Tumblr media
oh my god this turned into a whole essay LMAOOO
163 notes · View notes
amalaeus · 30 days
Text
Kylar/Robin/Sydney/Whitney HCs
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Kylar
Kylar V. Tepes
Black curly hair, the fringe is longer at the back because that boy does not maintain his damn looks for shit
Neon/Bright Green eyes
5"4
Malnourished twink-twunk (Becomes a twunk-hunk after PC rehabilitates their ass)
Excels in Science + Art, shit in everything else
Surprisingly really good at fighting, nerfed by their malnutrition
Unkempt, but does bathe everyday like a normal person
Clothing preference: Black hoodie and jeans/skirt, that's it.
Submissive, but once you get their breeding kink going they WILL top TOP you (Not exactly be a hard dom, but would get on top and try their best)
Rich RICH, could live off of his inheritance for a solid 50 years or so after his parents' incapacitance
On that note, would probably get along with Mickey (1 computer with 6 monitors? Implies that Kylar has surveillance over the city)(Definitely make a profit off of it)
V O Y E U R, breeder/bred, sub-leaning SWITCH, overstimulation kink
Older!Kylar or a Kylar with more Whitney influence would have neon green peekaboo highlight and a rattail (the Furina from Genshi impact kind)
Older Kylar, or Kylar currently would definitely get a Prince Albert if PC asked.
Robin
Robin O. Campbell
Fluffy brown hair, Blue eyes, KPOP looking ass hair (see image)
Twink
Average in school, only gets up to slightly above average at high confidence
Gaming + Anime addict (if the crossdressing isn't enough of an indicator-)
This is crack but, imagine if they were s illegitimate child of royalty- (Never gets a proper job even after going through Bailey, stays a virgin despite the brothel??)(They also has a $400 console in the early game, I doubt they'd have been able to save very much because he already starts out with $2k rent, they're definitely getting sponsored somewhere)(Would explain why they're protected but not fully)
Childhood friends with PC
Has been paying Bailey's fine longer than PC has
Older than PC by a few months-1 year
Trained in using a taser, brings a taser around
Vanilla, but a huge somniphiliac
Tumblr media
Sydney
Sydney J. Hyde (Goes by Sydney Jekyll pure, Sydney Hyde corrupted)
Has Coloboma, hence the need for glasses
Twunk-Hunk (From cloister + all the church chores)
Great in school, honors/exempted from classes
Writer, both on people and the actual hobby
Would write sacraments, then moved to the carnality of PC's temptation
Adept in combat, like, scarily good at it (cloister)
Best/Favorite subject's English
Clothing preference: All 3 academia aesthetics: Dark, Light and Messy
Good singer, Corrupted!Sydney is very into Hozier, Faithful!Sydney only listens to church songs (The classical ones)
Corrupt!Sydney is just them letting loose all that repressed lust, or breaking out of whatever bullshit hypnosis Harper put them through
Masochist, DOMINANT, overstimulation kink, dom + top leaning SWITCH
Whitney
Last name HC TBA LMAO
Twunk-Hunk (hunk-leaning)
Lowkey gymrat (does it for looks)
Pierced lobes, upper lobes and helixes (Only wears earrings on one ear)
Dirty blonde hair, brown eyes
M!Whitney sounds like Bakugou but shouts less
Actually excels in school and academia, only held back because they missed too much class
Can fight, but unlike Kylar and Sydney, they wouldn't kill (sure being tossed into the underground brothel is as good as being dead, but I don't think they fathomed what happens in the underground brothel until they were kidnapped instead)
Their whole schtick is more or less just them letting out their frustrations with life, his connection to the underworld is shallow at best (due to the kidnapper switching it up so fast in the dismissal event)
VERY SELF CENTERED, VERY NARCISSISTIC
Honestly? The ultimate tsundere, genuinely thinks that the shit he does is how to be popular and get bitches
EXHIBITIONIST, VOYEUR, ORAL FIXATION, DOMINANT SWITCH, humiliation kink (giving), public sex enthusiast, pillow princess
81 notes · View notes
brains4brawn · 1 year
Text
Stolen Fate
The youth plopped in front of me and hunched down in the previously vacant seat. He was a pretty average, round face with glasses, a grey sweater, earphones and a skateboard.
Tumblr media
I glanced out my window to see a group of jocks searching the train terminal for for who I assumed was the youngster across from me. With my raspy voice I told the boy to duck down as a gaggle of bullies started to peak through the windows heading our way. He scrambled down and pressed himself against the outer wall, just underneath the train's window. The athletes seemed to give up the hunt and gathered in the lobby. My old heart sank as I realized the leader of this group of miscreants was my own grandson Lachlan.
Tumblr media
In fact, the seat across from me was reserved for him so he could accompany me to the city for some shopping. I sighed. I knew my grandson was a bad egg, he had been caught more then once bullying kids. My daughter and her rich husband always made whatever problems Lachlan had go away. This ride was supposed to set the boy straight, that's why I had spent over the last 6 months enchanting this train ticket.
Now the ticket was reacting to this strange boy. On an impulse I handed the ticket to the boy just before the conductor came to punch it. There was a brief flash of golden light and the youth sat back down into his new seat. I heard a soft thanks as he sighed with relief.
"Now Dear, whom do I have the pleasure of saving today?" I asked in my raspy voice.
"M...M.....M....My name is Davis Kent ma'am" he stammered.
"Nice to meet you Davis. I'm Marlene Anderson, but you can call me Grams, everyone else does."
Davis sat a bit higher, a subtle golden glow surrounded him.
"Thank you Grams, You really saved me from those stupid jocks," he said with a touch of confidence.
Tumblr media
"Tell me about yourself Davis"
"Not much to tell, I'm 18 errrr.... ugh... 19 going to college"
"And those other boys?"
"One of them, Lachlan use to be my friend, then he found out I was gay, now he and those football stooges hunt me down for fun" Davis had a startled expression and moved to cover his mouth.
I cackled as only an old woman can, "Hehehehehe, that's quite alright dear. I've been a supporter of your rights for years now."
Davis just stared at me, mouth ajar. "Thank you Mrs. Anders........ Grams"
I nodded in approval, and a sense of excitement. The tunnel was coming up and this particular enchantment works better when no-one can see.
Flash......... Flash...............Flash
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The glow settled down and now an older Davis sat across from me.
"Davis, have you had any luck on the job hunt?"
"Not yet Grams, It was nice for Mom and Pete to host me at their house during the summer, got to play with Lachlan a little bit, but he was to busy to hang out with his older Bro."
I was a bit surprised, but the new memories soon filled in. Davis was now my elder grandson and step brother to Lachlan.
"I'm so glad you could ride with me back to the city Grams, It's been like forever sense you and me could spend some time together."
"Were you able to find a place to stay while out on the job hunt?" I asked. Curiously the golden glow still was there changing him slowly as we spoke.
"A few of my college friends went in together on a three thousand square foot loft on the north side of town. They said I could crash there while I find a job."
"Any boys I should know about?" I asked, just to see his face flush.
"N.....n......n.....no Grams I'm kinda in-between guys right now." he said with an embarrassed stammer.
The glow started to intensify as we passed into a deep forest where the sun was barely visible. In the dappled light the changes progressed even further.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Hey mom, thanks for coming with me to the city, Greg and I need all the help we can packing and what not."
I stared at the new Davis, almost 30 with a loving, long term boyfriend Greg.
Davis was now my youngest, born when Lachlan's Mom was 15.
"Are you excited to be working in such a small town?"
"Mom....ugh..... I know... I know.... Greg and I have discussed this. Working as a corporate drone was draining me, and well he can work from home anywhere with an internet connection. Anyway, I want to put my History and Sports Medicine degrees to good use."
I was just giving the poor boy a hard time. Secretly I was overjoyed that he and Greg would be moving closer to family. Lachlan had been getting into a lot of trouble lately, and having a pair of strong male influences like Davis and Greg could be just what the boy needed. Plus as both the high school football coach and history teacher Davis could keep an eye on her troubled grandson as he tried to graduate a second time.
Davis kept being oblivious to the golden aurora and I was getting nervous. I liked this Davis and I didn't want him to change but as we entered the city the sun was being blocked by the high rises.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Ma, you ok?" the deep bass voice rumbled as a huge hand shook my knee.
I nodded, as more new memories assaulted my mind. Davis is still my son but now he is twins with Lachlan's mother. He and Greg are still together, only now they have kids.
Oh my God, I have more grandkids to spoil! Five, to be precise: 3 boys and 2 girls!!!!
I felt my knee shake again and I could see the look of concern in my eldest's eye.
"Ma you sure your alright? I can go into town to pick up the boys. You could just rest here at the depot."
Knowledge poured into my head, I could remember why Davis and I came to the city. Lachlan..... only not the original Lachlan..... My oldest grandson had now grown up with his uncles Davis and Greg plus his 5 cousins who saw him as a role model. He was now a bright and kind boy with a sense of responsibility. He had graduated early was now in his second year at state university. He was also JV Quarterback and quickly rising to be an All-Star for nationals.
Tumblr media
We pulled into the station and a thick wall momentarily blocked the sun. Davis's final change settled on him. Along with a fantastic husband and great kids, Davis was now the first openly gay Head Coach at a major University. I am so proud of the man he's become.
We get out and stretch our legs, Davis now stands at incredible 6'8" and weighs about 300 lbs. He commands the attention of every passerby. Some even want to take pictures with him and he basks in the attention he receives.
Shaking my head I give an over-exaggerated cough. My big man turns around and blushes, then we make our way through the throng of onlookers to the busy streets.
The city is packed with people as pride is in full swing. Everywhere is color and celebrations of what makes us unique. I was enthralled with the spectacle of it all that I didn't notice we had found Lachlan and his boyfriend Tristian Kent.
Tumblr media
404 notes · View notes
allwaswell16 · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
A fic rec of One Direction fics in which one or both of the main characters meeting the family plays an important role in the fic as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!
- Louis/Harry -
🍍 Darling, so it goes by @disgruntledkittenface
(E, 195k, Grace Kelly au) Harry Styles is a world-famous actor at the height of his career but a personal low point when he meets His Serene Highness Prince Louis of Monaco by chance. He doesn’t think they’ll ever see each other again, but after striking up a correspondence, it turns out they have more in common than he thought. 
🍍 Like a Bullet in the Dark by @vurdoc
(E, 99k, Will and Kate au) Prince Harold Edward Styles Lancaster is second in line to the throne of Great Britain. He is also your average Uni student- or he tries to be, anyway.
🍍 Let Our Hearts Collide by @crinkle-eyed-boo
(M, 76k, While You Were Sleeping au) When Harry, a lonely transit worker, saves the life of the handsome commuter he's been secretly pining for, an innocent mistake results in Liam Payne's family believing that Harry is engaged to their son. In the Paynes, Harry finds the big family he's always longed for...and a love he never saw coming.
🍍 Them Butterflies by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry
(E, 68k, falling in love) This is the extraordinarily ordinary AU where Harry falls in love for the first time and Louis learns how to fall in love all over again.
🍍 Brasswood Boys by Tomlinsontoes / @pianolouis
(M, 59k, royal) the one where Harry doesn't realize his boyfriend is a prince until he takes a "royal soulmate" quiz online and has to decide if he wants to pack up his life and try to fit in with royals.
🍍 take my hand (my whole life too) by beckywritesthings / @beckydoesthings
(E, 43k, royal) a Crazy Rich Asians AU with a royal twist where Harry is a prince, Louis is most definitely not, and there’s a royal wedding to attend.
🍍 The Happiest Season by @sadaveniren
(E, 37k, movie au) “You’re going to spend Christmas - and your birthday - with his homophobic WASP parents? That’s gonna be hell.”
🍍 If I Stay by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings
(M, 37k, A Walk in the Clouds au) Harry and Louis agree to a temporary arrangement that Harry can't seem to walk away from no matter how many times he tries.
🍍 I Keep Looking For Magic by @lululawrence
(NR, 36k, Christmas) Harry cannot go home alone when he had promised to bring a significant other again. This leaves him with little choice but to find someone to pretend they are his fiance.
🍍 Find You Home by @kingsofeverything
(E, 35k, fake relationship) When Louis lies to his family and says he’ll bring his new boyfriend home for Christmas, his best friend and roommate Harry agrees to play the part. It’s that, or be left alone over the holidays.
🍍 I Just Want You to Stay by @sadaveniren
(E, 34k, omegaverse) Louis and Harry have been roommates for four years, comfortable in their routine and their relationship. But all of that is about to change.
🍍 From the Start by @allwaswell16
(E, 32k, fake relationship) Louis has no idea that one act of kindness will cause his life to spiral out of control. But that's what happens when his new friend fake proposes to him and a video of it goes viral.
🍍 my kingdom for a kiss (tonight you're on my mind) by @leighbot
(E, 30k, royal) the one where Zayn and Louis make a friendly wager and it goes too far, Harry's a baker with a heart of gold and really great hair, Liam is an overworked PA who just wants to enjoy his holiday and Niall is completely at ease, as always. An accidentally married AU mixed with a splash of modern royalty.
🍍 Turn and face the strange by orphan_account
(E, 26k, royal) the one where Harry is going to be King, Louis can't handle it like he thinks, Zayn is finally happy, Liam's a massive geek and Niall's marrying a princess.
🍍 What Side Of Love Are You On? by @fallinglikethis
(T, 25k, movie au) Ever since Harry finally made the decision to come out to his mother as bisexual, she’s been foisting women on him left and right, determined it’s just a phase. But when she puts out a personal ad to find the perfect partner for her son, things really get complicated. 
🍍 bring out feelings in me i never show by orphan_account
(M, 24k, fake relationship) Louis accidentally hires a felon to be his fake boyfriend for Thanksgiving. Or, the fake boyfriends au no one asked for
- Rare Pairs -
🍍 It's simple and it goes like this by yourlionheartx / @djtommotomlinson
(G, 3k, Zayn/Liam) Liam and Zayn have been fake dating for almost a year to get their parents off their backs. Liam’s a closeted lesbian and Zayn’s a trans woman who is also not out to her parents. It seems like the perfect plan to give them both some peace, until feelings get involved.
🍍 Fine Line by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13
(G, 1k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Telling his family was always going to be a big deal, but doing it alone was a sacrifice he could make. He never thought they’d fall about laughing.
119 notes · View notes
ineffectualdemon · 22 days
Text
I'm still trying to work out the demons cultural violence thing to make it less bad but also keeping it to an extent because the cultural misunderstandings are something I enjoy even if I don't like the implications.
My first thought was, well they are demons they are naturally tougher so they don't know humans are more fragile
And that is still a big problem I realised after
Like yes my thoughts were focusing on that they were demons and comparing them to western demons but that's still doesn't make it better in retrospect and in fact makes it worse
So
I have had a thought
Most of the demons we meet do wrestle and smack each other around and are a little stronger and tougher but!
1. The smacking each other around is in the same way of any group of teenage boys. It's not that they don't feel pain it's that they find that kind of friendly smack and wrestle funny and bonding ← based on the group of tame fucks boys I was friends with in highschool
This is very much the culture especially around teenage and young adult high class demons and Mobei
2. SVSSS demons are made up of many races with different strengths and weaknesses
Like Pokémon!
And in demon culture while you might playfully fight with another demon you do NOT go after their weaknesses. Mobei Jun would not use ice while casually meeting a snake demon and a fire demon wouldn't use their fire on Mobei in a casual friendly greeting. They might smack each other upside the head but no exploiting weaknesses because that could actually hurt someone
3. When I say stronger and tougher I mean like most of the demons we meet specifically who are in peak physical condition. Average demon not much difference from average human. Our very powerful demons like Mobei? Frat boys built like professional wrestlers with demonic cultivation. Stronger then most cultivators but cultivators can get that strong too.
4. Shang Qinghua is actually strong enough to take the hits. He's not getting ribs broken all the time he's getting bruises because he has high physical cultivation and can lift a cart one handed if he really wants to. He just hates it because it's not what he likes
5. The pocket of demon culture we see (High Class Over Powered Gym Brats) is identical to the culture on Bai Zhan peak minus the rules about Pokémon style weaknesses. Like seriously Bai Zhan is exactly the same in "friendly" greetings. Someone on Bai Zhan genuinely thinks beating someone up three times a day (beating them in a spar) is romantic
This still doesn't solve most of the problem but when it you make it
A) not demon culture as a whole just the culture of these particular rich over powered Brats in this particular social circle
B) the power and strength cap of the over power brats is comparable with human power levels
And
C) make Bai Zhan have the same stupid "fighting = flirting" idea
Then it's a bit better I think?
But that means doe Mobei he's doing the done thing in his social circle and also Shang Qinghua isn't saying no and the Bai Zhan brats act the same way so it's fine no? (its embarrassing that it's not)
100 notes · View notes
fredwkong · 11 months
Text
Lotto Ticket Wish
You had been on a bit of a dry spell when I appeared before you. Your small town didn’t have a lot of dating options for a pretty average young gay guy like you—basic white boys are a dime a dozen. You had gone out with every guy you liked on Tinder, been catcalled more than you could count on Grindr, and Scruff wasn’t even in the cards as long as you couldn’t grow a beard. You were bumming around the bowling alley—it was the only place in town open after 8—when you spotted me.
For you, I took the form of an arcade lotto machine. Insert a coin, receive a random ticket with a prize printed on it. You were confused, since you’d never seen me before, but you were bored and horny and nothing interested was happening. You inserted your coin, and I printed out your prize:
FAME. GLORY. PLEASURE. SPEAK YOUR WISH NOW AND SEE IT GRANTED. SATISFACTION GUARANTEED.
You chuckled. Typical arcade shit, you thought. “I wish I was a hunk!” you said aloud, and laughed to yourself again. Well, maybe it was worth the coin for the laugh. You pocketed your ticket and headed home.
That night, while you slept, your wish came true. First, a dark spot appeared on your fingertip where you had held your wish ticket. The darkened skin raced over your hand, leaving your small pale hand larger, thicker, and dark, a rich brown shade. Thick, black hairs grew on the back of your hand and fingers. The change continued up your arm, which began to bulge with muscle and veins. You flexed your hand in your sleep, and new strong tendons shifted under brown, hairy skin as your bicep peaked into a mound like a baseball.
Your shoulder rounded out into a thick, capped delt, and a forest of thick hair grew in your armpit. You wrinkled your nose at the musky, spicy scent that started to emerge, but your sleep quickly calmed into a sexy dream of sniffing a musky, dark-skinned armpit. Meanwhile, your chest thickened into a set of huge, rounded pecs with dark, pert nipples. Dark, curly hairs grew in and immediately became soaked with sweat, adding to the spicy stench in the air. The transformation proceeded down your other arm, until it was the perfect match. You shifted in your sleep, sending your nose into your other rank armpit.
As the skin of your belly darkened, fat evaporated away and six thick abs swelled out of your midsection. Your whole torso thickened with sturdy back muscles. All this extra mass made you sweat even more in your sleep.
A thick treasure trail grew from your belly down to your pubes, which darkened and thickened, as the skin tautened and turned black. Your balls swelled, causing you to shift your legs in your sleep and let your new bulging sac rest lower. Your cock thickened and grew, quickly slipping out of your boxers to reach down toward your knee. As your cockflesh darkened, you grew a thick, well-stretched foreskin, which released a cheesy smell into the air as you dreamed of tongue-washing an Indian hunk’s balls.
Your ass grew as well, rounding out as a thick, muscular cushion rather than a flat pad. Your boxers became so tight they might as well be briefs, the fabric stretched thin enough that the thick hairs swirling over your ass became visible. As the transformation continued down your legs, quads, hamstrings and calves grew, darkened, and became covered in sweaty hair. Your feet stretched and the soles thickened.
Finally, the transformation proceeded up your neck. Your neck and Adam’s apple thickened, causing you to release a deep grunt in your sleep. Your hair darkened to shiny black and became wavy, falling perfectly into a slick, masculine style. Your skin cleared and became brown, and your brows thickened and lowered, giving your now dark eyes a hooded, mysterious look. Finally, your nose widened slightly as your jawline sharpened, becoming coated in dark stubble that would grow back in minutes if you ever shaved.
The musky smell of your new Indian body swirled around your bedroom, subtly changing the space. In place of your desk appeared a set of adjustable weights. Your bookshelf became a full length mirror. A Hindi self-help poster appeared over your now-simple, masculine bed. Your closet filled with gym gear, with some formal kurta for when you visited your family in Chandigarh.
You woke at sunrise and wrinkled your nose at the smell permeating your nose. “Bro, what the fuck,” you muttered, in a deep, Hindi-accented voice. You made to hop out of bed, but as soon as your thick legs moved apart, your overstretched boxers tore at the groin, letting your oversized cock and balls spill out.
For a moment, you gaped at your thick new uncut cock and swollen, churning balls, then you jumped to your feet. Using your new strong hands you ripped the tattered boxers off and caught a glimpse of your magnificent body in the mirror.
You had certainly become a hunk! The sight of your bulging muscles and Indian good looks brought your cock to full attention, and you instinctively started to jerk off. The smell of your unwashed, weeping cock mixed with the spicy musk your body gave off, and before long you were close. You watched in the mirror as you bounced your sweaty, hirsute muscles and licked your musky armpit. Finally, you exploded, coating the mirror with a huge load.
In an instant, you felt a burst of knowledge flood into your head. You suddenly began to think in Hindi, and translating your thoughts into English became more difficult. You realised that you were the hottest stud in town, especially with your hunky Indian looks and deep, Hindi-accented voice. You knew how to make a perfect homemade Indian meal, and also how to totally dominate any white boy you wanted. You were about to be king of the town.
You grabbed some of the clothes scattered on the floor. A jock, gym shorts, and yesterday’s tank top should be fine. You gave yourself a quick sniff test: the perfect level of unadulterated sweaty musk for a morning gym session. After all, there would probably be some jockboy there who couldn’t wait to get a taste of Raj, the musky Indian stud, and the hottest commodity in town.
Tumblr media
Just as you were about to leave your room, you noticed your wish ticket lying on the floor. You picked it up, and wondered if the wish-granting lotto machine was still at the bowling alley…
Idea with assistance from the genie-bot by @mystrangetfs.
644 notes · View notes
brightmyth-fr · 7 months
Text
mass pinglists (& moral superiority for not using them)
There's been concern lately over the newest update announcement that at some point, far into the future or at least after New Year's 2024, mass-pinging as a concept will be retired from Flight Rising. On one hand, there's people worried about this.
There's people who are also, frankly, being wildly vitriolic about those who rely on mass pinglists, disbelieving that anybody could ever be affected by mass ping tools shutting down. They're also out here openly calling skinmakers/G1 collectors/dominance organizers delusional for thinking the things they do are in any way, shape, or form, an important part of the site.
Which like, if people don't use user-run tools like GASP or the G1 pinglist, that's fine! That's your playstyle. But I don't understand where the attitude is coming from that the concerned groups are only a 'loud minority', and that they somehow don't contribute massively to the game as a whole. (The same people, by the way, who call G1 collectors & UMA makers a plague upon dragon society for being an elitist rich boy's club, then turn around and say they're not at all a driving force in the site's economy.) Which one is it? You can't have it both ways. Do these people spend thousands whaling for their perfect XXY G1 wildclaws then hundreds buying gem genes for their fancy showoff dragons? Or are they at best a negligible population in the game, whose activity and monetary contributions to the site are far outweighed by the tens of thousands of 'nice, normal, sane' players who log on once a week to hatch a nest and post on forums once in a blue moon?
There's 825 pages of user-made skins on the site right now. At 50 items per database page, that's 41,250 skins. 41,250 skins that had to be submitted with blueprints that can only be bought with gems.
Tumblr media
Let's give these numbers the benefit of the doubt and say each skin was only submitted once, using a 10-print blueprint at 5000 gems, and each accent was only submitted once as well, using a 10-print blueprint at 2500 gems. That's 136,875,000 gems sunk into blueprints - if each individual usermade skin on site has only an average of ten copies on site. (Which is categorically not true, I've had multiple skins print over 300 copies. And I am just one person, and far from the most successful skinmaker on site.)
This is 1,368,750 USD in skin blueprints alone, by the way, using the most barebones and least generous numbers possible. We're not accounting for skins that sell more than one run, or the fact that no skin artist sells their skins to the public at print price (you can add another 30-40% to that number if you want to estimate how much money is actually spent to circulate those skins). Even if none of these artists pay money to buy gems, these gems are coming from somewhere. Even if you, as someone who doesn't care for G1s or never even heard of GASP, never set foot into these places, these gems are still circulating and being sunk into the site. And it helps no one to scoff and say you doubt there's no real impact on anything if all of this goes away.
There's 51k items on the site, and over 80% of them are skins. There's 5k users actively signed up and using GASP - more than the average amount of users logged onto the site at any given point that's not a new breed release or anniversary update.
Are you getting the picture yet? It's not self-absorbed to say that the UMA market has a very real impact on the game economy. It's just numbers.
I need to get my thoughts out about the new mass-ping update somewhere. My thoughts on the actual tool are entirely positive, it's a great change for the site and not one I ever thought I'd see. But there's people worried about the future of tools like the GASP & G1 sales pinglists for very good reason.
I think game economy is a very real concern if you're a dominance participant, a skinmaker, an old dragon collector, a G1 hatcher, an ID hunter, or anyone else whose community relies on mass ping lists. You aren't wrong for feeling this way. I'm sorry people are dismissing very valid concerns about the state of your community out of some misguided 'i don't do this and neither do my friends, so everyone who does must be a loud overexaggerating nitwit' attitude.
196 notes · View notes
operator-report · 2 months
Note
do you have any ideas about the undersiders music tastes. your other posts are so beautiful and true
aaah i'm so glad you liked my silly music posts! after some thought this is what i've landed on for the undersiders: taylor: in my heart taylor's mom did this to her, which is why taylor has a better-than-average teen girl knowledge of blondie, neil young, and the police. i think taylor's taste is a mix of dad rock and alt-pop rock hits. she likes the strokes and arctic monkeys. maybe a little mgmt. after her mom dies she stops listening to music that reminds her of her mom, so much less 70s/80s rock, but i don't think she switches to sadder music or anything like that, i think her taste just skews more contemporary after that. after the bullying started she tried out heavy metal really early on because she figured angry music might help her vent but it wasn't her thing. taylor does not listen to radiohead but she's the undersider who would like it the best i think. karma police is a taylor song send tweet
brian: there's a post out there somewhere that talks about brian listening to imagine dragons and that is SO real to me. he listens to imagine dragons. he listens to "tough" guy music that sounds like it could be in car commercials. he also listens to dudes rock music he hears at the gym. brian and taylor both like to match their music to their workouts and they have an immensely geeky conversation about matching bpm at one point. taylor matches it to her running brian matches it to boxing they are in nerd-jock heaven
lisa: she's a tricky one, because the music industry is one that both values authenticity and yet is extremely manufactured. i think that means that lisa finds music in which rich musicians make music about how hard their life is immensely grating. i think sarah livsey's taste was influenced by her brother, and much like how taylor does not listen to music that reminds her of her mom, lisa does not listen to music that sarah used to like. another smugbug yuri of absence moment if you ask me. anyway all that means that lisa listens to three kinds of music: downtempo instrumental electronic, classical, and We Are Up Partying In The Club Tonight Ooh Girl Oh Yeah. i think she finds, e.g., pitbull and eurotrance endearing. if you ask lisa what her favorite kind of music is she'll say something obnoxious like IDM or some shit just to see what the reaction is
rachel: i looked up "do dogs listen to music" and google says they will listen to classical sometimes, so! there you go. if worm took place a little later i think taylor could have introduced limited doses of lofi hip hop study beats to rachel and she would be ok with that too but also like. why listen to music when she could be outside listening to her dogs
aisha: the undersider with the best taste! we know that early worm aisha is a bona fide scene teen, and i think she consequently likes blink-182, pierce the veil, 3oh!3, cobra starship, and maybe a little bring me the horizon. in later worm aisha's taste gets less pop, like deftones, odd future, etc. she's a supervillain who would actually listen to madvillainy. aisha is also probably the only undersider who actively seeks to cultivate her own music taste! a good chunk of the undersiders have trauma that separate them from their interests and/or feelings, but aisha is an undersider who i think is both self aware and also true to herself, as well as being genuinely interested in art!
alec: speaking of undersiders who have a difficult time developing a defined music taste due to being cut off from a strong sense of self. alec in early worm is too depressed/apathetic to seek out music for himself, he'd rather be playing video games or watching movies. which is a shame because disassociating to music is one of the depressed activities of all time! alas alec's vision of a person with Taste is like. cherie. rip. however, aisha completely turns his life around into a guy who likes...................... soulja boy
there you go! tried to keep this period typical and also didn't include bands we know for sure didn't exist on earth bet (such as mcr). however i am very sad aisha and alec didn't get to listen to 100 gecs together. can you imagine. i can imagine and that's why i have a beautiful aishalec amv set to doritos and fritos in my mind
54 notes · View notes