#anyone can be ‘my little gay guy’ if I love them enough | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sillylilsquid · 13 days ago

Text

better with a girl

pairing - hyun-ju x reader summary - it started with a match on a dating app and the belief that you were straight. but hyun-ju—with her soft hands, patient smile, and every kiss that left you needing more—teaches you what it really means to want. warnings - au!hyun-ju, no squid game, afab!reader, sexuality exploration, explicit sexual content, 18+, minors dni!! 9.7k words - your text is bold, hyunnie's is italics!

Honestly, you weren’t looking for anything serious.

Not after the last guy cheated on you with someone from his gym–and the one before that who ghosted you after you told him you like to cook for the people you love, like it was some kind of red flag. You weren’t bitter exactly. Just…tired.

Tired of being the one who cared. Tired of begging for affection like it was some kind of reward. Tired of holding your breath around people who never really saw you.

So, no. You weren’t looking for anything. And definitely not anyone. But your friends wouldn’t let it go.

“You’re too wound tight,” one of them told you over drinks. “You need to get laid, babe. Or fall in love. Preferably both.”

“You say that like they’re easy to find,” you muttered, half into your wine glass.

“You’re not even trying. When’s the last night you went on a date?”

You didn’t answer.

So a week later, tipsy and half daring yourself, you downloaded the app.

You hesitated when it asked about your preferences. Men. Women. Both.

You hovered over ‘men’ like always. But then your thumb slid over to ‘both.’ Just for balance, you told yourself. Just in case. You weren’t gay or anything. You were just…curious. And exhausted. And maybe a little too bored.

The app was chaos. A blur of overly filtered selfies and bio quotes like “CEO of making you smile” and “looking for my player 2.”

Her pictures weren’t trying too hard. One of her at a bookstore with glasses on, one lounging on a couch in a leather jacket and bare-faced confidence. Her profile said: “Better in person. Or worse, depending on your taste.”

You swiped right before you could overthink it.

And then–match. Your stomach dropped a little. And then she messaged you first.

so you’re the one with the pretty eyes and nervous smile?

You read it five times before you replied.

pretty bold opening line

i’m just observant. bold would’ve been asking if you taste as sweet as you look.

Your breath caught, your pulse picking up.

(kidding. mostly)

you can tell me to chill and i will

i don’t want you to chill. just maybe…don’t go full chaos on the first message?

deal. half chaos. full charm 😉

you always this hesitant or am i just special?

maybe both.

i’ve never really talked to…a girl on here before.

There was a pause before she replied. Not long. Just enough to make you worry she’d vanished.

hey, that’s okay.

no pressure. no expectations. i’m just here to get to know you.

unless you want pressure. but like, the fun kind

lol.

are you always like this?

a little.

but i’m also respectful, attentive, and excellent at ordering takeout.

if you ever wanted to find out.

You hesitate before replying. Your stomach already in knots and you couldn’t stop smiling.

i mean…coffee might be safer than takeout. for now.

for now🤭

send me your schedule. i’ll pick the spot. first date’s on me

first date?

you think i’m this charming just for small talk?

You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal. It was just coffee. Just a date. Just…with a girl.

A really pretty girl with perfect eyeliner and flirty texts and a voice you could practically hear through the screen. But still. Just a date.

Nothing worth getting nervous over.

You stood in the mirror, staring at the mess of clothes scattered on your bed, muttering to yourself like a lunatic. “Why are you freaking out? She’s just a girl.”

You tugged off your third shirt and grabbed another. “She’s a girl, not a rockstar.”

But your hands were shaking. And your heart was pounding. And the lipstick you picked–soft, not too bold, not too try hard–was already smudged from the way you kept pressing your lips together.

You reapplied it, again. And stared at yourself. “She’s just a girl,” you repeated, whispering this time. “You’re straight.”

But the way your stomach twisted said otherwise.

The coffee shop was one of those cozy, indie spots tucked on a quiet street–exposed brick walls, hanging plants, and warm lighting. You spotted Hyun-ju immediately.

She was already sitting by the window, one leg crossed over the other, black turtleneck, jacket slung over the back of her chair. Her hair was pinned back loosely, a few strands falling to frame her face.

She looked up just as you stepped in–and smiled. And your brain short circuited. She stood as you approached, standing much taller than you thought she’d be, and you hated how much your pulse jumped when she reached out and touched your arm gently, just a soft brush of her fingers.

“Hey,” she said, voice like honey. “You look good.”

You laughed, breathless. “Thanks. You too.”

“You nervous?”

“Terrified.”

She grinned. “Good. Me too.”

The date was easy. Infuriatingly so.

She made you laugh. She asked questions and actually listened to the answers. She tilted her head when she talked, smiled at you like you were the only person in the room, and touched your hand once–just to make a point about something dumb–but it lingered. Just a little too long.

And when it was over, and you both stepped outside, the sky soft and fading into gold, she looked at you like she was deciding whether to kiss you.

She didn’t.

She just walked you to your car, winked, and said, “Text me when you get home safe, yeah?”

You nodded. You couldn’t stop smiling the whole way home.

Your phone buzzed ten minutes later.

so… that was better than a date with a guy, huh?😉

Your heart plummeted. Because it was.

You didn’t tell your friends much. Just that you went on a date. Just that it was…nice. You dodged every follow up question like your life depended on it.

“Who was it?” “No one you know.”

“What’s he do?” “He’s–uh. They. Work in creative stuff.”

“Are you seeing him again?” “Maybe.”

They knew you were hiding something, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it out loud. Not yet. You weren’t ready to open that box. Because once you did, it was real. And it already felt too real.

Hyun-ju didn’t text you all day the next day. Not in a mean way. Just gave you space. It made you restless. Until, just before bed, your phone buzzed.

you didn’t forget about me already, did you?

Attached was a mirror selfie–no makeup, oversized tee, hair tied back, and still somehow so beautiful it made your stomach flip. You stared at it way too long before answering.

not yet. you checking in on your competition?

nah. i just wanted to be the face in your head before you fell asleep😇

You didn’t answer that one. But you stared at the photo again before bed. And again when you woke up.

The texting got easier after that. Casual. Fun. But there were moments where her charm slipped into something sharper–playful, but deliberate.

what are you doing friday?

nothing. why?

you’re coming to dinner with me. i want to see how you look in candlelight.

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard.

you always this smooth?

no. just with you.

Friday comes faster than you expect.

You spend over an hour getting ready, yelling at your closet, changing your outfit over and over again and regretting every choice.

When you arrive at the restaurant, she’s already there. It’s upscale, the kind of place you need a reservation for. The kind where soft jazz hums under the clatter of silverware.

And fuck. She’s wearing a sleek dark blouse tucked into tailored trousers, gold rings on her fingers, and just a touch of mascara. Her hair is down, brushing elegantly over her shoulders.

She stands when you approach. Her eyes trail over you slowly. “Wow,” she says, soft and sincere. “You’re stunning.”

You don’t know what to say, so you laugh, awkward and shy. “You clean up okay too.”

She grins. “Flattery and a compliment? Careful, you’ll make me fall for you.”

You sit across from her, trying to slow your heartbeat. She pours you a glass of wine. Her fingers brush yours.

And as the night unfolds, between courses and soft laughter and the brush of her knee against yours under the table, that voice inside you starts whispering again.

You’re not into women, right?

Then why can’t you stop looking at her mouth? Why do you keep leaning in when she speaks? Why do you want her to reach for your hand and not let go?

You reached for the check the second the waiter dropped it off. “I’ve got it,” you said quickly, already pulling out your card.

But Hyun-ju was faster. She slid the black booklet toward her without even glancing down. “Nope.”

You blinked. “What? Why not?”

“Because I asked you out,” she said simply, pulling her wallet from her coat. “And because I want to.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t–”

“Don’t make me fight you over this in front of everyone,” she warned, but her tone was playful. Her eyes sparkled as she handed over her card.

You sat back in your seat, flustered. “You’re very stubborn.”

She smirked. “And you’re very cute when you’re trying to be polite.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. So you said nothing. Just stared at your wine glass while your pulse thundered in your ears.

The walk back to your car was quiet–but not awkward. The kind of quiet that buzzes with unspoken things.

You walked side by side down the cobbled sidewalk, streetlights washing the pavement in pale gold. Her hand brushes yours once. Then again. You didn’t pull away.

When you reached your car, you hesitated with your keys in hand. She leaned against the door, watching you. “Well?” she said softly. “Was I worth dressing up for?”

You laughed, breathless. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” She raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Do I need to convince you?”

You didn’t back away–but your chest was tight and your stomach was tangled in knots.

Hyun-ju leaned in, slow and deliberate, her lips just inches from yours. And then…she stopped. Her breath was warm against your cheek, her voice a murmur. “I want to kiss you.”

Your mouth parted. You couldn’t speak. “But I won’t,” she spoke softer now. “Not until you want me to.”

You felt your heart split clean down the middle. Because part of you was begging for her to do it. And part of you still didn’t know who you were if you let her.

She stepped back. “Drive safe, pretty girl,” she murmured, and turned to walk away.

You sat in your car for ten minutes before starting it, heart pounding, throat thigh, and eyes burning. Because you wanted her. And you didn’t know what that made you.

You lay in bed staring at the ceiling. The room was dark, quiet–except for the loud, humiliating echo of your thoughts.

You hadn’t even kissed her. And yet here you were, chest tight, legs tangled in your sheets, your mouth still tingling from the ghost of a kiss that never happened.

You groaned and rolled over, unlocking your phone.

Twitter: no.

Instagram: worse.

Messages: 3 unread. None from her.

Google:...maybe

You opened the browser. Then, with a subtle grace of a woman having a minor identity crisis, you typed: “am i gay if i like one girl”

Delete. Too desperate.

“signs you’re into women”

Delete. Too obvious.

“can straight girls like girls sometime”

You stared at the screen, jaw clenched, heart racing. Then you opened Notes and started typing to yourself, because texting your friends would mean explaining, and you weren’t ready for that.

okay but it’s not like i want to marry her or anything.

i just like her smile

and her voice

and her hands

and the way she looks at me

and the way she almost kissed me

okay

maybe it’s something

maybe i like her

maybe i want her to kiss me

fuck

You slammed your phone face down and groaned into your pillow. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But all you could think about was her voice in your ear, her mouth inches from yours, saying: “Not until you want me to.”

And the worst part? You already did.

The next morning, you were trying to act normal. Just a little grocery shopping. Laundry. Scrolling aimlessly on your phone and definitely not thinking about almost being kissed again in your car.

That’s when she texted.

morning💪

Attached: a gym mirror selfie. She was in a black sports bra and high waisted leggings, headphones around her neck, a smirk tugging at her lips. Hair pulled into a mess pony. Skin glowing. Abs unfair.

You dropped your phone on your chest and let out a noise that can only be described as internal combustion.

you okay?

literally no

that bad, huh?

you’re annoying

and hot

stop this

😌

come over tonight. i’ll feed you and put on a movie. sweatpants encouraged

what are we watching?

something gay. obviosuly.

😐

bring wine or your nervous energy. whichever is easier to carry

You showed up two hours later with both.

Hyun-ju opened the door in a t-shirt and sweatpants, glasses on, makeup free and still somehow hotter than anyone had a right to be.

Her place was warm and inviting–soft lighting, a lived-in couch, scented candles burning something vanilla and cozy. You sat side by side under a throw blanket, legs touching. She let you pick the movie.

Twenty minutes later, you weren’t even watching it.

You were hyper aware of her every breath. Every time her hand moved. Every shift of her thigh against yours. And when she leaned over to grab the remote from the coffee table, her body brushing yours–

“I don’t know how to do it,” you blurted out.

She paused. “Do what?”

“I mean–any of it. With a woman. Like…” You stared at the screen, horrified at yourself but too far gone now. “Kissing. Touching. Sex. I don’t know how to have sex with a woman. I don’t even know what that looks like. Is it, like–scissoring? Is that even real? And what if I mess it up? What if you want me to touch you and I just, like, poke something wrong and kill the vibe?”

You finally turned to look at her. She was just sitting there. Silent and smiling. Her chin in her hand. Eyes soft and so amused.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

She tilted her head. “Because I’ve never seen anyone talk themselves into a meltdown this adorably before.”

You groaned, burning your face in the blanket. “I’m gonna die.”

“No you’re not.”

I might! I’m a straight girl who got wine drunk and accidently fell into a queer panic spiral in your living room.”

“Baby,” she murmured, reaching out to gently tug the blanket down and uncover your face. “You’re not straight.” You blinked up at her, lips parted. She smiled–soft and certain. “But you’re very cute when you’re trying to fight it.”

You’re still half under the blanket, your face burning, staring at Hyun-ju like she’d just uncovered every secret you’d been hiding.

She hadn’t stopped smiling. Her eyes glittered with something between affection and straight up amusement.

“I’m serious,” you muttered, barely able to hold eye contact. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even know what it looks like. I’ve only ever—like, watched–guy stuff.”

Hyun-ju leaned back on the couch, one arm slung lazily over the cushion behind your shoulders. “You know there’s porn, right?”

Your entire body locked up. “I–what?”

“There’s porn. Lesbian porn. Gay porn. Real stuff, ethical stuff. It’s pretty easy to find.”

“I’m not gonna watch porn just to figure out how to sleep with you!”

She raised a brow. “Is that what you’re worried about? Sleeping with me?”

“I didn’t mean–I’m not planning to–not like that–I don’t know what I meant–” You were spiraling. Full meltdown mode.

Hyun-ju let you go on for a few more seconds, just watching you with that infuriating calm like she was thoroughly enjoying this.

And then, gently, “Hey.”

You froze. She leaned in just a little closer, her voice low. “You don’t have to learn anything for me. I’m not expecting you to show up with a skill set.”

You blinked at her, breathing hard.

“I don’t care if you’ve never kissed a girl,” she said. “Or touched one. Or even thought about it before me.”

You stared. “But I have thought about it.”

“I know,” she said, smiling again. “That’s why you’re sitting on my couch, clutching a throw blanket and looking like your brain is on fire.”

You let out a noise between a laugh and a sob. “This is so embarrassing.”

“It’s not,” she assured. “It’s honest. And kind of hot, if I’m being honest.”

You whipped your head toward her. “Hot?!”

“Baby,” she said, barely biting back a grin, “you rambling about how clueless and flustered you are? While blushing and squirming next to me like that?” She shrugged. “Kind of ridiculously hot.”

You let out a broken, strangled sound and buried your face again. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

You stayed hidden under the blanket, your voice muffled. “I can’t believe you said porn.”

She laughed–low, rich, teasing. “What? It’s educational!” You were still hiding under the blanket when Hyun-ju tilted her head and said, casual as ever, “We can watch some together, if you want.”

You froze. “What.”

She blinked. “Porn. You said you’ve never seen–”

“I know what you said,” you hissed, peeking out from behind the blanket with your entire face on fire. “And excuse me, I can watch porn by myself, thank you very much.”

Hyun-ju just smirked, like that was the answer she’d been hoping for. “I’m just saying,” she murmured, “sometimes it’s more fun to learn with supervision.”

You launched a throw pillow at her face.

You didn’t say much after that. You put on another movie. Something safe. Something very not gay.

But Hyun-ju kept brushing her fingers against yours under the blanket. And you kept pretending not to notice. And your brain kept looping back to what she’d said.

Porn. Together. Supervision.

You weren’t sleeping tonight.

Hours later, back in your own apartment, you lay on your stomach in bed, phone glowing too bright in the dark, anxiety buzzing in your fingertips.

You stared at the search bar. You typed slowly.

“lesbian sex real”

Delete. You weren’t a serial killer.

“lesbian porn”

Okay. You clicked one of the links. The first few thumbnails made your stomach twist. Not because it was gross–because it was…a lot.

But then you clicked on one that looked softer. Realer. Two women kissing slowly, their hands tentative and warm.

Your breath caught. You watched. They touched like they meant it. They kissed like they'd missed each other. You felt heat rush between your legs before you even realized it.

And then–one of them moaned. And it hit you. Sharp and low. You clamped your thighs together, heart pounding, and slammed your laptop shut. You laid there in the dark, breathless, your pulse racing, your whole body tingling.

“Holy shit.”

Because you liked it. You really, really liked it. And suddenly, it wasn’t just about Hyun-ju anymore.

It was a Saturday night, and your phone buzzed just as you were debating whether to eat dinner or cry under a blanket for the rest of the weekend.

going to a club with a friend. you should come

no pressure btw. just vibes

i don’t club

i don’t either. but i do wear tight clothes and look hot under colored lights.

and i think you’d enjoy that

You stared at the phone for a full minute. Then you threw on the best outfit you could pull together in under ten minutes.

The club wasn’t a packed, sweaty disaster like you’d feared. It was dark and moody and glowy–neon reds and blues painting every surface, bass pulsing low in your chest.

Hyun-ju spotted you at the door and waved you over. You nearly choked. She was in black slacks and a cropped mesh top layered over a strappy bralette, all gold jewelry and smoky eyes and smug smiles. Her nails were painted wine red, one hand around a soda glass, the other casually resting on her hip.

“I didn’t know what to wear,” you mumbled when she pulled you into a hug.

Her arms wrapped around your waist. “You wore this,” she murmured, eyes raking over you. “And that’s all I care about.”

You didn’t drink. Neither did she. But it didn’t matter. The music was loud, the lights were low, and her hand stayed on the small of your back whenever you moved. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. The video. The way those women had touched each other. The sounds. The want. And now Hyun-ju was right here–pressed close to your body, her breath warm against your ear every time she leaned in to talk.

You were sober. And still, you felt drunk.

It was almost 1am when the crowd thinned and the music dulled into background haze. You were standing beside her near the exit, blinking slowly, heart crawling up your neck form how close she was.

“You look tired,” she said softly, brushing a hair out of your face.

You nodded barely.

“You don’t have to Uber back, you know.”

You looked up. She shrugged one shoulder. “You can crash at my place. It’s closer. And I’ve got extra clothes.”

You swallowed. “Oh.”

“Unless you’d rather go home.”

“No,” you said quickly. “I mean–I can come over. That’s fine. If it’s okay.”

She smiled. “It’s more than okay.”

The car ride to her place was quiet. Her music low. Her hand rested casually on the gearshift, fingers tapping, rings glinting under the streetlights.

You stared out the window, but your brain wouldn’t shut up.

She’s so close. Her hands. That mouth. What would she sound like?

By the time she parked and let you inside, you were a silent, shaky mess. And the night was just beginning.

Like before, her apartment was warm and quiet, a contrast to the thumping bass still echoing faintly in your chest. She kicked her shoes off by the door and flicked on a lamp–low, amber light casting soft shadows across the room.

“Make yourself at home,” she said, tugging her jacket off and hanging it neatly. “You want water or anything?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m good.”

You stood awkwardly by the couch while she padded off to her bedroom, calling back, “I’ll grab you something to sleep in.”

Your heart was pounding. You stared at the record player tucked in the corner. The plant by the window. The jacket slung over the back of the armchair. It all smelled like her–clean and woodsy, warm and sharp.

She returned a moment later and handed you a fold shirt and some loose cotton shorts. “Bathroom’s down the hall. Take your time.”

You muttered a thanks and practically sprinted out of the room.

By the time you emerged, changed and clean faced, your nerves had officially gone nuclear.

Hyun-ju was sitting cross legged on the couch, scrolling through her phone, now in sleep shorts and a sweatshirt, her hair loose on her shoulders. She looked…unfairly good. Comfortable. Effortless.

You hesitated in the doorway. Her eyes flickered up, slow and soft. And then she smiled. “You look cute.”

You fiddled with the hem of the oversized shirt she gave you. “It’s literally yours.”

“Exactly.”

You crossed the room slowly and sat behind her, tucking your legs under you. She turned the TV on, scrolled half heartedly through the options.

Neither of you were really watching. Your arm brushed hers. You could feel the heat of her skin. Her thigh close to yours. The hum of tension that had been building since you walked through the door.

She glanced over. “You okay?”

You nodded too fast. “Yeah. just–tired. Long day. Loud music. You know. I’m not really a club person. You could probably tell. Not that I hated it. It was actually kind of fun. Mostly because you were there. Which I guess makes sense. Since I like being around you.”

You were spiraling again. Hyun-ju didn’t say anything.

You hesitated.

Your heart pounded in your throat. You looked at her mouth. Then back to the screen. Then to her eyes. And then you chickened out.

“Anyway,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket over your lap. “Thanks for letting me stay.”

She leaned her head back on the couch, still watching you. Her voice was teasingly low. “Was that supposed to be a kiss?”

Your eyes went wide. “What?! No!”

Her smile grew. “Are you sure?”

You flushed all the way to your ears. “I wasn’t–I mean, I thought maybe–but then I didn’t–I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Hyun-ju tilted her head, her voice softening. “Baby,” she said gently, “you don’t have to know what you’re doing. You just have to want it.”

You didn’t answer. But you didn’t move away either. You were frozen. Her words echoed in your chest: ‘you just have to want it.’ And god, you did.

You just didn’t know how to ask.

She shifted beside you, slow and smooth, like she was giving you time to back away. You didn’t. Her hand came up to your cheek, gentle and grounding. Her thumb brushed softly under your eye, then down to the curve of your jaw.

“You’ve kissed guys before, right?” she asked, voice low.

You nodded nervously. “Yeah.”

She smiled. “It’s the same idea…just way better when it’s another girl.”

Your breath caught. She leaned in slowly, her voice like velvet. “It’s not about technique. Or pressure. Or anything you’ve seen in movies.”

Her nose brushed yours, barely there contact that made your stomach twist. “It’s about attention,” she whispered. “Letting it build. Following what feels good.”

Her lips touched yours–just once. A soft press. A question. You exhaled like you’d been holding your breath for hours.

She kissed you again–slightly deeper now, slow and sure. Her lips warm. Soft. She let you feel the shape of her mouth, the gentle tug and press. No rush. No demand. “Just like that,” she whispered against your lips. “You’re doing perfect.”

You whimpered without meaning to. She pulled back just enough to look at you. “You okay?”

You nodded quickly. “Can I… can we do that again?”

That smile. That smile.

“I was hoping you’d ask.” And then she kissed you again–longer, guiding her lips with hers, her hand still cradling your cheek. You followed her lead–tentative, shy, but hungry. Your hands found her waist. She let out a soft hum of approval.

“There you go,” she murmured, lips brushing yours between words. “See? You’re already learning.”

She kissed you again–slightly deeper, a bit slower. “You’re a natural, baby,” she whispered.

You gasped softly, dizzy from praise, from the heart blooming in your chest. “I didn’t think–kissing a girl would feel like–”

Her fingers threaded gently through your hair. “Like that?”

“Like…this.”

Hyun-ju smiled, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Like something you want to do again?” You nodded. “Good.” She kissed your jaw. “Because I’m not done showing you.”

You didn’t go any further that night. Just kissing. Soft, slow, and gentle. When it got too much–when your hands trembled or your breath caught in that panicky way–Hyun-ju pulled back, tucked your hair behind your ear, and whispered, “that’s enough for tonight, baby. You did so good.” And you melted.

A few days later, she picked you up in the late afternoon with a picnic basket and a blanket thrown in the back seat like it was nothing. “You’re so domestic,” you teased as she opened the passenger door for you.

She just smirked. “Only for girls who wear nervous smiles and make me drive across town for the good strawberries.”

She took you to a quiet park, a little hill shaded with trees, far enough from anyone else to feel like it was just the two of you.

You helped her lay out the blanket. She unpacked sandwiches, fruit, two glass bottles of soda, and a pack of cookies she’d clearly bought last minute.

You both sat down, sunlight streaking through the trees, laughter soft and easy between bites. And you couldn’t stop looking at her. The way her hair caught in the light. The stretch of her legs where she lounged beside you. The little smirk she gave you when she caught you staring and didn’t say a word.

Your stomach flipped. You’d been thinking about kissing her again for days. The memory of it was still warm in your chest–her mouth, her hands, the way she’d held you like you were something fragile and precious.

And now, sitting beside her on a blanket in the fading sun, you wanted it again. You ached for it. But you didn’t know how to say it. Instead you said, “This is nice.”

She glanced at you, one brow lifted softly. “Yeah?”

You nodded, heart in your throat. “I like spending time with you.”

Hyun-ju leaned back on one arm, eyes gentle. “I like spending time with you too.”

You hesitated. Then leaned over, just a little. Her gaze flickered to your mouth, then back to your eyes. She didn’t move. Didn’t rush you. “Can I kiss you?” you whispered.

And god, the way she looked at you then–like you’d just handed her the sun. “You don’t ever have to ask,” she said softly. “But I love it when you do.”

You leaned in, hands shaking just a little, and kissed her. Slow. Lingering. Sunlight on your skin, her fingers brushing your knee like a promise. And for the first time, you didn’t feel like you had to explain yourself. You just felt.

That evening after the picnic, she brought you back to her place. You didn’t want to go home–not yet. Not when everything inside you was still buzzing. Not when the quiet between you felt so full.

You both curled up on her couch under a blanket, a random movie playing low in the background. You were tucked into her side, your head on her shoulder, her arm around you like it had always belonged there.

You didn’t speak for a while. But eventually, you whispered, “I still don’t know what I am.”

Hyun-ju didn’t flinch. Didn’t shift. Just kept stroking her fingers through your hair like your words didn’t scare you.

You swallowed hard. “I mean, I like you. I really like you. But I still get scared sometimes. Like, I think about kissing you and I get excited and nervous at the same time. I don’t know what that means. If I’m…gay. Or bi. Or just confused. I feel like I should know.”

Her hand paused for a second–just long enough for you to notice. Then it moved again. “You don’t have to label it right now,” she said quietly. “Or ever, if you don’t want to.”

You pressed your cheek into her chest, listening to the slow thud of her heartbeat.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” you whispered. “You’ve been so good to me.”

“You’re not going to mess anything up,” she murmured, her voice low and certain. “You’re allowed to be figuring things out.”

You blinked hard, your throat felt thick. “And what if I just…stay confused?”

Her hand slid under your chin, tilting your face up gently. Her eyes met yours–steady, warm, so full. “Then we stay confused together,” she said. “As long as you want me around.”

You let out a breath tha felt like a release. And she leaned in, kissing your forehead, and whispered: “I’m not going anywhere.”

A few weeks later things have changed, in soft, quiet ways.

You and hyun-ju were still texting every day–little things at first: good morning, good night, updates about your day. But somewhere along the way, your texts got…flirtier. Playful and teasing.

She started sending mirror selfies when she got dressed for work. You started sending emojis you wouldn’t have dared to use before. And sometimes, late at night, the conversation drifted into gentle, breathless places.

Still, nothing more than kissing. But everything building. One night you invited her over. Not because she offered. Not because she insisted. Because you wanted to.

you’ve never been to my place

you should come over sometime

tell me when, baby. i’ll be there

And just like that, she was.

You had tried to clean. Really tried. But you still felt a flush of embarrassment when she stepped inside, eyes sweeping the cluttered counter, the unfolded laundry on a chair, the half dead plant in the window.

“It’s not–sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” you said quickly, tossing a sock into your bedroom.

But she just smiled, slow and fond. “It looks like you live here. I like that.”

You gave her a look. “You would say that.”

“I meant it.”

She toed off her boots and padded toward the couch like she’d been there a hundred times. You followed, still a little flustered, and sat beside her with a sigh. You’d picked up chocolate from that corner store she liked, and she grinned when you brought it out.

“I love that you remembered this,” she said, unwrapping one and popping it into her mouth.

You shrugged, smiling. “You said it was your favorite.”

She leaned back on the couch, ankles crossed. “You’re learning me.”

“Trying to,” you responded. Your voice came out smaller than you meant. Her eyes shifted to you, something softer behind them now. And your heart picked up. There was something you’d been meaning to ask. You just didn’t know how. You fiddled with the corner of the chocolate wrapper. “Can I ask you something?”

Hyun-ju nodded. “Anything.”

You hesitated. “I’ve been thinking about…us,” you started slowly. “And about going further. Eventually.”

Her expression didn’t change–still calm, open, listening.

You took a breath. “I just–I don’t really know how anything works. With two women. Like, really works. And I know I could Google it, and I have a little, but it’s not the same as talking to someone who…” Your cheeks were burning now. “Who knows. Who had done things.”

Hyun-ju didn’t laugh. She didn’t tease. She leaned in, her voice quiet but full of warmth. “You can ask me anything, baby. I’ll tell you the truth.”

You were blushing so hard you thought you might catch fire. But Hyun-ju didn’t look surprised. Or uncomfortable. Just soft and steady. She turned on the couch, facing you fully now, her knee brushing yours. “Okay,” she said quietly. “What do you want to know?”

You hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Everything?”

That made her smile. Not teasing–fond. “Alright, let’s start simple.”

She reached for your hand, lacing her fingers gently through yours, her thumb brushing the top of your knuckles. It grounded you. Slowed your breath.

“There’s no one right way,” she started. “Some women like fingers. Some like mouths. Some like toys. Some don’t want penetration at all.” You nodded slowly. “And all of that’s okay. What matters is listening. To your partner, to yourself. Asking what feels good. Paying attention.”

Then she asked, “Have you had sex with guys before?”

You nodded. “Yeah. A few.”

Her head tilted. “Did you like it?”

You opened your mouth then closed it. Hyun-ju just waited. You shifted, cheeks burning. “I thought I did? Or I thought I was supposed to? I don’t know. It always just kind of felt…like it was happening at me.”

She hummed softly. “Did you even cum?”

You blinked at her. Didn’t say a word. Her brows lifted, and the tiniest smirk tugged at the edge of her mouth. “Ah.”

You groaned and dropped your head into your hands. “This is so humiliating.”

“Baby,” she said, tugging your hand gently down so she could see your face again. “No, it’s not. It’s not. It’s honest. And it makes me want to take my time with you even more.”

You looked at her–really looked at her–and your chest squeezed. “I want to try,” you whispered. “Not tonight. But sometime. With you.”

“I’d love that, whenever you’re ready.”

You swallowed hard. “Would you…show me? What it’s supposed to feel like?”

Her hand slid gently up your arm, fingers brushing your jaw, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ll show you everything,” she said. “Exactly how good it gets. And I’ll go slow. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for. But when you are–I want to ruin you for anything else.”

Your breath caught. And then–so quiet you almost didn’t hear yourself say it: “Do you want to stay over?”

Her smile was instant. And so, so soft. “I thought you’d never ask.”

It had taken you weeks to work up to it, but you finally told someone. One of your closest friends, mid coffee run and panic spill, when you blurted out, “I’ve been seeing someone…kind of. A girl.”

They didn’t even blink. “Is she hot?”

You nearly dropped your drink. “Yes?! That’s not the point!”

They laughed. “It’s very much the point.”

And after that, it got a little easier. You started doing research. Quietly. Privately. Watching videos, reading articles, letting yourself imagine. You even bought a toy–nothing major, just something small and safe to test the waters. And after all that…you still wanted her. No confusion. No doubt. Just want.

So when one of your friends invited you and Hyun-ju out to a club, you said yes. You texted her first.

i wanna go out with you tonight. like properly…dancing and all

that sounds dangerously like a date

maybe it is

i’ll wear something slutty

You nearly combusted. The club was loud, neon-lit, crowded–but it didn’t matter. Because she was there. In a cropped top and tailored pants, hair sleek, skin glowing under the lights. Your friends met her, exchanged looks you pretended not to notice, and she handled it like she always did–cool, calm, absolutely magnetic.

You stuck close to her the entire night. And for the first time, you didn’t hide it. You let your fingers trail down her arm when you leaned in to talk. You pressed your hand to her waist when the bass got too loud and the crowd swelled. You even kissed her cheek once, lingering longer than you ever had before.

Her hand found yours and squeezed. Adn when you pulled her onto the dance floor, she came willingly–one hand on your hip, the other sliding low, slow, possessive. You couldn’t stop touching her. You didn’t want to.

Back at your apartment, the air was different. Charged and quiet. You let her in and closed the door behind you with a shaky breath. Hyun-ju turned to face you, eyes dark, searching. “You okay?”

You nodded. “I want to,” you said. “Tonight.”

She stepped closer. “You sure?”

You nodded again, heart pounding. “I’ve thought about it. A lot. And I’m scared, but I…I want it. With you.”

She crossed the room slowly, closing the space between you. “Okay,” she murmured. “Then I’m going to take care of you. And you’re going to tell me everything you like. If you want me to stop, I stop. If anything doesn’t feel good, you say the word.”

You nodded again, eyes wide. “Okay.”

Her hand slid up your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek. “You ready?”

“Yes…” you whispered.

She smiled. “Good girl.”

She kissed you slowly–no rush, no hunger, just warmth. Gentle lips and the slow slide of her hands around your waist like she was holding something sacred. When she deepened the kiss, you gasped softly, and she took it like a promise.

You let her guide you to the bed, her mouth never leaving yours. “You nervous?” she whispered against your lips. You nodded. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.”

Her hand stroked down your back. “Okay.”

Hyun-ju helped you out of your clothes piece by piece, pausing between every step. “You’re doing so good,” she whispered, pressing kisses to your shoulder, the curve of your collarbone. “So beautiful, baby. You’re okay.”

When you were bare in front of her, you instinctively went to cover your chest with your arms–but she caught your wrists, softly. “Don’t hide,” she said. “You’re perfect. I want to see all of you.”

And god, the way she looked at you–like you were art, like you were something holy–made you want to cry.

She undressed too, letting you see her at her own pace, and kissed you again as she gently guided you onto the bed.

She started with her hands. Slow strokes along your thighs, your stomach, your chest–never rushing, never groping. Just learning you. Letting you feel how much she wanted to be there.

“Tell me if anything feels weird, okay?” she said as her fingers slid between your legs, featherlight. “I’m going to start slow.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. Her fingers dipped lower, circling your clit in the softest, slowest motion. Your hips twitched, and she immediately paused.

“Too much?”

You shook your head quickly. “No–just surprised.”

“That’s okay.” She smiled. “We’re not in a hurry.”

When she found the right rhythm–gentle, steady, maddening–you couldn’t stop the sound that left you. A gasp. A whimper.

“Just like that,” she murmured. “Let go. Don’t think. Let it feel good.”

Her lips found your neck, warm kisses as her fingers coaxed you further, deeper into the feeling. You were panting now. Hands tangled in the sheets. Her name on your lips. “I’m gonna–” you gasped. “I think I’m–”

“That’s it,” she whispered, mouth brushing your ear. “Let me see you, pretty girl. Cum for me.”

And you did. With her name caught in your throat, your body arching into her hand, you unraveled completely. And when it was over–when your body went soft and trembling beneath her–she kissed your cheek, then your shoulder, and pulled the blanket up over you both. “You okay?” she whispered, brushing your hair from your face.

You nodded, breath still catching. “I’ve never…nothing’s ever felt like that before.”

She kissed your forehead. “That’s because no one’s ever taken the time to learn you.”

You laughed, breathless. “So that’s what it’s supposed to feel like.”

Hyun-ju smirked, tucking you into her arms. “Mhm. told you it was better with a girl.”

You buried your face in her neck, smiling. “Stay?”

She wrapped her arms around you like she already belonged there. “Always.”

The room was quiet, warm, lit only by the soft glow from your hallway light. You were curled in Hyun-ju’s side, tangled under your blanket, your body still humming from what she’d just done to you. Your fingers played lazily along her stomach, tracing the hem of her tank top.

She had one arm behind her head, hair a little messy, face flushed but smug. “You still breathing?” she teased.

“Barely,” you mumbled into her shoulder.

“Good.”

You laughed, and tilted your face up toward hers. Then kissed her. Softly. Slowly. A little longer than before. Her lips curved against yours. “Hey,” she warned between kisses. “You keep doing that and you’re gonna turn me on again.”

You smiled sweetly. “That’s the plan.”

Her eyes darkened instantly. “Oh, really?”

You nodded, blushing. “I feel…braver now.”

She pulled you into her lap, her hands sliding to your waist. “Mm. That so?”

You nodded again, but there was still a flicker of nerves in your eyes. She saw it–of course she did. But instead of pushing, she leaned forward and kissed your collarbone. “Then let me return the favor,” she whispered. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She took her time with you again–slower, even, than before. This time, you were laid out completely, her lips trailing kisses down your stomach, her hands spreading your thighs like they were hers to keep. “Let me show you what my mouth can do,” she murmured as she kissed the soft skin of your inner thigh.

You whimpered. And then–oh god. Her tongue was gentle at first. Careful. Drawing slow circles around your clit without ever quite pressing into it. She flicked, teased, tasted you like she was starving–and you couldn’t stop moving. “H-hyun-ju–”

“Shh, I know,” she said between kisses. “You’re doing so good. You taste so fucking sweet.”

When you started getting close, her tongue would slow. Pull back. Kiss along your thighs again until you were gasping. “Please,” you whimpered. “Don’t stop.”

She smirked against your skin. “Not yet.”

“Hyun–” You tried to move your hips, chase her mouth, but her hands pinned your thighs open with gentle strength.

“You’ll cum when I say,” she murmured. “And not a second before.”

You were panting now, eyes glassy, voice cracking. “But–what about you?” you asked, nearly sobbing. “You said I was turning you on. Don’t you want–”

She looked up at you from between your thighs, mouth wet, eyes half lidded with hunger. “Oh, I do, baby. But tonight’s for you. And I’m not stopping until you cum so hard you forget your own name.”

You moaned, legs trembling, body arching off the bed. And this time, when she sucked your clit between her lips and moaned into you…you broke. You came with a cry, your whole body trembling, hands gripping the sheets, hips stuttering as she licked you through it, slower now, softer, until your body collapsed back into the mattress.

She crawled up beside you, kissed your forehead, and whispered, “that’s two.”

You blinked, still catching your breath. “You’re keeping score?”

She grinned. “Of course.”

You didn’t fall asleep right away. Your body was too full of warmth. Your chest still fluttering from what she’d just done to you. You were curled up in her arms, your face tucked into the space where her neck met her shoulder, her hand brushing slow circles across your back.

Hyun-ju kissed the top of your head and exhaled softly. “That was really special to me,” she said. You blinked up at her. “Tonight,” she added. “You. Trusting me. Wanting me.”

Your heart tightened. “Of course I trust you.”

“I know. But…still. You didn’t have to let me in like that. And I know it wasn’t just about sex for you.”

You nodded, quietly. Her hand kept moving across your back. “I’ve had hookups,” she continued. “Casual stuff. Things that didn’t mean anything. But tonight–this meant something. Because it was you. And because I know how hard it is to be brave when your whole body’s screaming that you’re new to this.”

You pressed your lips to her shoulder. “You make it feel easy.”

She kissed your hair in return. “That’s the goal.”

You didn’t say anything for a long time after that. Just stayed there, tangled together, your hand resting over her heart.

It didn’t stop after that. If anything, it became impossible to stay away. You craved her. Her mouth. Her hands. Her laugh. Her steadiness. You started spending more time with her than without her–half your clothes in her closet, a toothbrush at her sink, a mug she kept just for you in her cabinet.

When you had to work, you texted her all day. About everything and nothing. About how bored you were. About how hot she looked in the selfie she sent at lunch. About how badly you wanted to crawl into her lap when she called you baby in a voice memo.

And Hyun-ju? She was insatiable. Not in a demanding way–but in that way where all it took was a look. One look from you and she was on her knees. On the floor. Behind the door. Wherever she could have you.

Once, she had her mouth on you in the backseat of her car. Thirty minutes before you were due to meet her friends for dinner. She made you cum twice, then fixed your hair like nothing happened, kissed your flushed cheek, and said, “You look even prettier like this.”

And you let her. Every time.

But lately, something had been tugging at your chest. A kind of guilt. A kind of ache. You loved the way she touched you. The way she cared for you, praised you, took you apart like it was her favorite thing.

But she hadn’t asked for anything. She never even hinted. And you wanted to give her something back.

So one night–warm lights, soft music, your body tangled with hers on the couch–you kissed her. Not tentative. Not testing. Just…wanting.

She kissed you back, gentle but a little surprised at how eager you were. You straddled her lap, fingers curling into the hem of her shirt. She pulled back slightly. “Baby–”

“I want to,” you whispered. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

Her eyes ghosted over your face, searching. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Please. I want to learn. I want you.”

Seh let you tug off her shirt, your hands shaking slightly. You kissed down her neck, fingertips brushing her ribs. You slid off her pants next, leaving her in just her bra and panties–so beautiful you forgot to breathe.

But then–you froze. Not because you didn’t want her. Because you did. So much it scared you.

Hyun-ju noticed instantly. Her hands came to rest gently on your hips. “Hey,” she whispered. “Look at me.”

You did. She was calm. Beautiful. Patient. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

You shook your head quickly. “No–I want to. I just…I don’t want to do it wrong.”

Her hand slid up to cup your face. “You won’t,” she said softly. “I’ll help you. I’ll tell you what feels good. We go slow. We go together.”

You swallowed. “Okay.”

And when she kissed you again, it was like falling into warmth you already knew by heart.

The kiss is deeper now. Slow, lingering kisses that tasted like trust and nerves and something more. Smoothing warm blooming between your ribs. Her hands stayed on your hips, grounding you. You pulled back just enough to whisper, “Tell me what to do.”

Hyun-ju smiled softly. “Start with touching. Explore. You don’t have to rush.”

Your fingers drifted down her sides, mesmerizing the curve of her waist, the slope of her thigh, the softness of skin beneath cotton. She was laid out beneath you, eyes never leaving yours.

Your fingers hit a spot on her stomach that made her jump slightly and giggle, your eyes snapped up but she just assured you it was because you tickled her.

So you continue.. Your hand hovered near the waistband of her underwear. Your mouth was on her neck now, and you sucked on her skin briefly. But then you stopped moving, pulling away so you could sit up. Breath shallow. Pulse fluttering in your throat.

Hyun-ju cupped the back of your head, voice warm and low. “You’re doing so good, baby,” she whispered. “Don’t overthink it.”

“I’m not–I just…” you swallowed. “I’ve never–”

“I know. I know you haven’t.” She kissed the side of your face. “Let me help, yeah?”

You nodded, and she gently took your hand, guiding it over the soft skin of her stomach, down– “You don’t have to go inside,” she murmured, “unless you want to. Just touch me the way you like being touched.”

Your fingers brushed the front of her panties and she sighed, hips shifting slightly beneath you. The sound shot straight through you, a bolt of nervous desire sparking low in your belly. You pressed more firmly, rubbing gentle, clumsy circles.

She gasped softly. “Yes. Just like that.”

You looked up at her, eyes wide. “Really?”

“Really,” she said, breathless now. “Feels so fucking good, baby.”

Your face flushed. You kept going. Tentative at first. Still unsure. But the more she moaned for you, the more her hips lifted to meet your hand, the more your nerves twisted into something bold.

You kissed her chest, her collarbone. Nuzzled into the space above her bra, lips brushing the swell of one breast.

She arched into your touch. “I love watching you learn,” she murmured. “You’re so careful. So sweet.”

You whimpered. “I want to be good for you.”

“You are,” she said. “You already are.”

Her praise made your head spin. You slipped your hand into her panties, heart hammering as you finally touched her. She was wet. So wet. And warm. And soft. “Fuck,” she moaned, clenching around nothing. “You’re making me crazy.”

Your fingers moved slowly, spreading her open, rubbing gentle circles around her clit. “Like that?” you whispered.

“Exactly like that,” she breathed. You couldn’t stop looking at her. Her mouth slightly open. Her eyes fluttering. Her thighs tensing under your body as you moved. She was so responsive. So vocal. And still, so focused on you.

“You’re doing everything right,” she said. “I want you to feel how much I want you.”

“I do,” you whispered. “I want to make you cum.”

She groaned. “Keep going, baby. You’re almost there.”

And when her body finally shook–when she moaned your name and clenched around your fingers and pulled you down for a kiss–you felt more powerful and wanted than you ever had in your life.

You held her until her breathing slowed, until her hands relaxed against your spine. You whispered, “Did I really do okay?”

She smiled, eyes half lidded. “You didn’t just do okay. You wrecked me.”

You giggled, your face buried in her neck. “I want to do it again. Soon.”

“Then we’ll do it again. As many times as you want.”

Time passed. Not in a loud, dramatic way. But in soft little shifts. In the quiet turning of pages. In the way your heart stopped feeling like a question every time you looked at her.

You started holding her hand in public. At first, it was small. Just pinkies brushing on the subway, or you knuckles resting against hers in a cafe line. But then it was real. Linking your arms when walking through the park. Reaching for her hand across a dinner table. Sitting her lap during a game night at a friend’s place without flinching when someone raised an eyebrow.

She noticed every time. Not with a smirk, not with a joke–but with a quiet squeeze of your hand. A kiss to your temple. The smallest smile that said I see you. I know how far you’ve come.

You told your parents. You practice in the mirror for three days. Rehearsed every line. Anticipated every question. And when you finally said the words out loud–”I’m dating a woman. Her name is Hyun-ju.”–your mom just blinked.

Then said, “Is she nice?”

And when you brought her home for dinner, she was more than nice. She helped wash dishes after. Told your dad his bad jokes were genuinely funny. Complemented the food like it was five-star dining. Your mom said she hoped Hyun-ju would come back soon.

You nearly cried in the bathroom after. Hyun-ju waited until you were curled in bed that night to kiss your forehead and whisper, “You did that. I’m proud of you.”

She introduced you to her brother next. He greeted you with a skeptical squint and a sarcastic, “So you’re the reason she’s been smiling like a Disney princess lately.”

You wanted to crawl into the floor. But by the end of the night, you were all laughing over drinks, and he sent Hyun-ju a selfie of the two of you with the caption: she’s way too sweet for your scary ass.

She grumbled, but you caught her saving the photo anyway.

And behind closed doors, you kept learning. You kept asking. And Hyun-ju kept giving.

You ate her out for the first time–nervous, shaking, trying to remember everything she’d taught you. She guided you with soft sighs and patient praise. Held your hair back. Moaned your name. “Just like that,” she whispered. “You’re making me fall apart.”

You learned her body in pieces. The curve of her hips. The sounds she made when you kissed her inner thigh. The way her voice dropped when she was close.

Eventually, she let you use toys–slowly at first, testing sizes and shapes, her hands always on your wrists, her eyes always watching yours. You’d never felt so trusted. So empowered. So wanted. And every time you touched her, every time you made her gasp or cry out or come undone, you couldn’t help but think–this is what love feels like.

The first time you said I love you…wasn’t when you meant to.

It wasn’t after a grand romantic gesture. It wasn’t in the middle of sex, or during an anniversary dinner, or while watching a sunset hand-in-hand.

It was on a Tuesday. You’d both had a long day. Work had sucked. The trains were late. You were grumpy, cold, and tired, and all you wanted was food and warmth and her.

You got to her apartment half an hour late, kicking your shoes off with a groan and dropping your bag like it had offended you personally.

“I bought dumplings,” you muttered, voice flat, “but they’re probably lukewarm at best and if I don’t sit down in the next five seconds I’m going to cry.”

Hyun-ju didn’t say anything. She just walked over, took your coat off for you, cupped your face in her hands, and kissed your forehead. And that was it. That was the moment. That moment you realized it had already happened.

You were already in love with her. You had been for a while. You just hadn’t said it yet. So you stood there, with your arms still half in your sleeves, heart wide open and raw, and blurted it, “I love you.”

The air stopped. Hyun-ju blinked. You blinked. Your stomach dropped. “Oh my god,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean–wait, no, I did mean it, I just–fuck.”

She smiled. Not big. Not dramatic. Just soft. Quiet. Like the words had been sitting on the tip of her own tongue too. “Good,” she said. “Because I love you too.” You stared at her, wide-eyed and overwhelmed. She kissed you again. Slower this time. With the kind of love that said I’ve been waiting for you to say it. Then she grabbed the bag of dumplings, pulled you toward the couch, and said, “Now sit down before you.”

author's note - hope you all enjoy! this was so special for me to write, and so much fun. i hope you love it as much as I do!!

#squid game #squid game x y/n #alternate universe #cho hyun ju x reader #hyun ju #hyun ju x reader #cho hyun ju #player 120 #player 120 x reader #cho hyun ju smut #cho hyunju x reader #hyun ju squid game #hyunju x reader

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starlight-lesbians · 3 months ago

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lesbian dinah and lesbian greaseball is so important to me, and so is their relationship development

in my heart GB was Dinah’s gay awakening a lil bit and I end up writing that into a lot of my fics and aus because I think it’s adorable

Like Dinah’s maybe dated a couple guys, she wasn’t that interested in them. Then GB rolls into the station one day and she’s beside herself internally. She’s never felt like this about anyone before and it’s so intense.

GB knows she’s gay, her sexuality might be the one thing she’s really genuinely secure in, so she’s a little unsure of getting with someone just figuring themselves out like Dinah is.

They give it a shot though, and they’re like two puzzle pieces finally slotting together. Sure they have their moments, but they love each other deeply and they work it out.

To me what occurs in canon is like, super out of the ordinary for their relationship, and of course this is my headcanon. Dinah consistently seems shocked by Greaseball’s rejections of her affection, implying that doesn’t usually happen.

I think both of them are very insecure, and derive their security from different things. GB’s security comes from her champion status. She believes that if she isn’t the champion, she will lose everything, Dinah included. Dinah’s security comes from her relationship, why is why she absolutely crashes out when left in the dust. Her support and security has left her.

They both have to find their strength and security in other things before they can fully heal, because before there wasn’t a threat pulling them apart.

Dinah finds support in Belle and Tassita, and later, security in herself. She exerts her own autonomy in deciding she doesn’t want to race with Electra anymore, she decides she is going to forgive Greaseball, and that’s because she finally trusts herself.

Greaseball on the other hand, has to learn that she can rely on others. Her champion title is lost, but Dinah stays by her side, forgives her, and loves her anyway, and that allows her to find a new source of security. She is enough, without all of the glamour of being a champion.

anyway i sob over them every day of the week i teared up writing this SHHHH

#starlight express london 2024 #starlight express #stex #rory rambles! 💕#dinah the dining car #greaseball the diesel #greasedinah #dinah starlight express #greaseball and dinah #dinah x greaseball

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cringefailkralie · 1 year ago

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ridiculously long list of things i’ve noticed about thomas grant and adam wadsworth’s portrayals of albus and scorpius

sorry in advance if this is messy, i wrote this at like 4am

albus flinches away when james steps too close to him!!!

when scorpius asks albus whether he prefers albus or al, he doesn’t have to think about his answer. instead he just looks shocked that someone was actually asking that, like nobody’s ever considered his feelings before. makes me feel like he’d been waiting his entire life for someone to actually ask him that.

tom’s albus doesn’t cry during the fight with harry like i’ve seen a lot of the other actors do. he just stares blankly ahead of him and completely shuts down. i’m head over heels in love with this choice because it really hammers home how hard it is for albus to express his feelings or communicate with anyone.

albus’s reaction to the love potion really really makes me believe that ron intended it to be a mean gay joke. even if ron didn’t intend for it to come across that way, that’s definitely what albus takes it as.

scorpius is just staring vacantly at a wall before he spots albus on the train in their 4th year. not sure if this is a specific acting choice or if i’m just reading into it too much?

they hold hands for a second and stand with their faces an inch away from each other as soon as they duck into their train compartment. their body language in private is so different from their body language in public.

albus squeezes his eyes closed when they hug. he really needed that physical affection but he hates anyone but scorpius being near him.

scorpius puts his hand on albus’s chest when the train starts moving. nothing to say about that its just really gay.

my favorite delivery of “oooo a quiz… WIZZO!!!” i fucking love how he does jazz hands when he says it, especially because it’s the second time he does jazz hands in that scene. he’s so me.

albus does so many little hand gestures in this scene, he’s way more comfortable being expressive around scorpius. he almost mirrors scorpius’s stupid little mannerisms.

bonus- not scorbus related but craig is first seen wearing his beanie on the train during the this sequence (where albus and scorpius decide to run away)!! idk if they don’t do this in other productions or if i just hadn’t ever picked up on it before, but it’s a really cute detail. does anyone know if he canonically got it when he became head boy?

when amos first tells them to leave, scorpius grabs onto albus’s sleeve

not even technically them but the ron and harry actors grab onto each other sooooo much (as albus and scorpius)

in love with how long scorpius hold out his “WIIIIIIIZZZOOOO” and how albus tries to match his energy with the “DOUBLE WIZZO”

delphi steals scorp’s little phrases and his awkward way of speaking and his mannerisms to try and appeal to albus because she knows that he reeeeally likes him- and i hate hate HATEEEE how she makes him feel like a freak for being himself when all the while she’s stealing his personality. scorpius plays with the fabric of his sweater and then fidgets with his hands after she tries to make him feel left out in the forbidden forest and i can FEEL what he’s feeling through the screen.

scorpius is JEALOUS jealous of delphi and when he talks to her his voice is quiet and monotone, which is the most un-scorpius thing ever. i love it. you can feel how much he hates her. i hate her too, this delphi is despicable. (very talented actress!!)

when scorpius tears his eyes away from the beautiful sight in front of them to look at albus and say “you’re my best friend” (which is crazy enough on its own) he talks in a really sweet, low voice before returning really quickly to his normal scorp-voice, as if he was afraid to let albus think about what had just happened

albus jumps up and down with excitement when they announce the triwizard tournament. he starts and then has to stop himself from cheering for hogwarts. funny that a guy who was just saying how much he hates hogwarts would do a thing like that.

everyone around scorpius gets startled when he starts cheering for krum because his screaming is so weird lmao

at the end of the scene where albus tells scorpius they’ll be better off without each other, scorpius just slumps over on the steps and stays there for the ENTIRETY of the next scene until he eventually gets wheeled off with the stairs. it looks like he’s fiddling with something? maybe his wand? maybe just his hands?

obviously the staircase ballet is the staircase ballet, but the way they look at each other is just AAAAUUUUGHHHHHHH

at the end of the ballet scorpius steps towards albus first, but albus is the one who reaches his hand out and slinks down onto the steps

obsessed with that gay little purse scorpius carries the time turner in

delphi gets scorpius to let his guard down during their conversation and scorpius starts talking like himself in front of her again!!!

albus does the little puke-gag-joke-thing in the library to try and make scorpius feel better </3

they’re both fidgeting with their hands throughout their whole conversation :(

ALBUS’S LITTLE GIGGLE WHEN SCORPIUS AGREES TO COME WITH HIM TO FIX TIME

this isn’t specific to this production but scorpius’s shoes are one of my favorite details. in the normal world, he wears big clunky shoes to showcase his awkwardness, whereas in the dark dimension he wears running shoes!! evil scorp is athletic!!!

the second “im fighting for albus” that comes out of scorpius’s mouth is said almost entirely to himself

their little hug in the water :,)

i LOVE LOVE LOVE that scorpius tries to hug draco and he pushes him away and throws his jacket at him in such a cold manner. it makes their hug near the end feel so much more important to their relationship. as soon as we meet scorpius he immediately refers to himself as having daddy issues and we don’t see nearly enough of that in this play.

bonus p2- one of my favorite parts of this show is the in trouble again number!!! i love the background gang and all of their little scenes like this. craig being a little gossip monger is funny as shit!!!! it gives him so much personality and makes his death that much sadder :(

the delivery of “scorpius….. he matters to me…. you know that don’t you?” is INSANE. tom grant delivers all of the coming out adjacent lines so perfectly.

i love how scorpius moves his body. he waves his arms around in the air so often.

scorpius tickled albus lmao they’re so weird

when scorpius talks about hating the other world, albus throws in “apart from polly chapman fancying you” quite bitterly and scorpius almost completely cuts him off. he doesn’t acknowledge what he said in any way shape or form and albus seems to notice that he’s not interested in polly.

scorpius rubs his socks on the floor while he talks :3

the choice to have scorpius move from his bed to albus’s bed and pull albus’s blanket into his lap when he tells him that he changed himself back for him is so AAAUGHHH

AND SCORPIUS DOES THE SAME THING THAT HE DID EARLIER AGAIN!!! he gets all quiet and sweet when he’s sort of admitting his feelings to albus and then all of a sudden he stands up and goes back to his normal loud voice

“MALFOY THE UNANXIOUS IS A PRRRRRETTY GOOD LIIIIAAAR”

delphi mocking scorpius and him immediately tensing up oh he hates her ass so much

scorpius reaches out to try and intercept albus handing delphi the time turner and albus giggles at scorpius because he’s happy she’s not extremely pissed at them

scorpius holds onto the railing right up until he gets his hands bound together because he’s afraid of heights. thought it was cute that adam chose to do this even though his fear of heights isn’t mentioned anywhere in this version.

i LOVE the torture scene in this version. albus is stone faced when delphi is threatening to torture him and then he IMMEDIATELY falls to his knees begging and pleading when she turns toward scorpius.

delphi is quite literally outing albus in this scene. the silence after she says that love is his weakness and points to scorpius is SO long and SO loud omg. it’s quite literally ten whole seconds (i counted) of albus and scorpius just looking at each other. it genuinely feels like she just spilled out what he’s been keeping inside of himself for so long, it’s gutwrenching. i guess they did just watch craig die so they do in fact have bigger problems, but you can see albus’s heart stop beating and its so terrible.

i love how albus turns to scorpius when the stationmaster starts unintelligibly talking to them like “hey, you’re doing the talking rn just so you know”

i’m obsessed with how excited scorpius is to tell albus all about the history of the place they’re in. in love with his little gasps at everything he sees and his jump when he says “SQUEAK!”

albus motioning for scorpius to stop when he’s demonstrating how to scream for help lmaoooo

albus pointing with both hands at scorpius while they try to come up with a plan is so cute. albus believes in him so much.

i love how scorpius keeps hugging draco even as he’s talking

their foreheads are literally brushing against each other my god these bitches gay

albus asks “and thats who you want in your palace?” in an almost panicked way like he’s afraid scorpius doesn’t feel the same way about him.

albus holds onto scorpius’s shoulders while rose tries to reassure them that they didn’t just get walked in on lmao

3rd and final instance of scorpius trying to change the subject- asking immediately about quidditch so albus doesn’t get the chance to say anything related to what just happened

scorpius says “come on” like he’s trying to get albus to come cut a rug with him at a middle school dance

obsessed with their little gagging and puking bit and how they made it a callback to what albus does in the library

maybe my favorite hug moment from any scorbus duo. i love how albus initially reacts with shock but then melts into it and closes his eyes, only pulling away to make sure he’s not reading the situation entirely wrong (he’s not)

my favorite ending scene by far. the coming out hits SO hard. the way albus fiddles with his zipper and scrunches up his sleeve in his hand, you can tell how absolutely terrified he is of saying this to his dad. the line delivery is genuinely fantastic. the more he pauses the longer you have to take it all in- and he pauses a LOT.

okie thanks for reading!!!!!

#hpcc #scorbus #the cursed child #scorpius malfoy #albus potter #albus severus potter #harry potter and the cursed child #harry potter #albus x scorpius #cursed child #scorpius hyperion malfoy #craig bowker jr #james sirius potter #lily luna potter #rose granger weasley #yann fredericks #polly chapman #karl jenkins

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eepwtf · 4 months ago

Text

oh my GLOB i just saw this pic in my camera roll(don’t ask) and my brain immediately went to frat!kai parker

WARNINGS; explicit sexual content: contains detailed and graphic descriptions of sexual acts, including edging and overstimulation. jerking each other off(are you even frat bros if you don’t?) exhibitionism & voyeurism: includes references to the potential of being watched or caught during sexual acts. humiliation kink, kai being an asshole, slight power imbalance, ( im a sucker for asshole x dumb puppy dog duo ) accidental homoerotic frat energy: “it’s not gay, bro, it’s just mutual appreciation...of each other’s cocks.”

also, can i just say this started as an innocent brainstorming session about kai parker ! frat bro headcanons, but things got wildly out of hand, and now we’re here. sigh, my brain goes into a rabbit hole that i cannot escape when it comes to him.

wc; 5.5k

kai parker was the kind of guy who made you hate the sound of your own name. not because he said it wrong, no—that’d be too simple. he dragged it out, teased it, wrapped it in just enough contempt to make your chest tighten and your skin crawl. (the bastard knew exactly what he was doing, too, with that smug little smirk of his.) perched on the back of the delta psi beta couch—shoes still on, because of course he didn’t give a shit—he swirled the last inch of beer in his red Solo cup like it was top-shelf whiskey. he had that infuriating cocked-eyebrow thing going on, one leg stretched out like he owned the damn place. (technically, he kind of did—if being the unofficial asshole-in-residence counted for anything.)

the house reeked of stale beer, sweat, axe body spray, and regret. (it was a delta psi beta signature blend—eau de regret.) the floors were a graveyard of crushed cans and abandoned cups, the kind that leaked sticky trails when you tried to clean them up—assuming anyone ever did. over in the corner, some poor pledge was on his knees, scrubbing furiously at a blackish-green stain on the carpet. (it shimmered faintly in the light, like an oil slick, and everyone silently agreed that the less you knew, the better.)

and then there was you. (golden boy. president. the kind of guy who people just…liked.) you didn’t even have to try. your smile was easy, charming—sugar-sweet in a way that made kai’s teeth ache. you were sprawled next to kai, stupid grin plastered across that stupidly pretty face of yours, laughing at some dumb joke one of the other guys had made. your hair was a little messy (like it always was by the middle of a party), your cheeks pink from too many beers, and kai fucking hated it. not you, not really—he wasn’t sure he was even capable of hating you. (hating you would’ve been easier. cleaner.) but he didn’t exactly like you either, and that made him feel some kind of way.

maybe it was the way people clung to your every sugary, half-baked word. (kai talked, and people flinched. you talked, and they fucking laughed.) maybe it was how you could smile at someone and instantly get whatever you fucking wanted. (beer. a blowjob. a goddamn kidney, probably.) hated how your laugh was so genuine it made him feel like a fraud just sitting next to you. (fuck, he hated that he wasn’t immune to it. that sometimes he caught himself watching you and wondering.) or maybe it was the way you always squirmed when he turned his attention on you, when he got close enough to see that flicker of panic in your puppy-dog eyes.

“you good, president puppy?” he drawled, dragging his gaze over to you, slow enough to be a threat. (or a promise—same difference really.) his voice was low and syrupy, just the tiniest bit condescending, like he was addressing a particularly dumb pet. you blinked at him, smile wavering for half a second before you covered it up with a laugh.

“yeah, i’m good, parker,” you said, voice light and easy, even though kai could see the faint pink creeping up your neck. (you always got flustered when he paid attention to you. he loved that.)

kai tilted his head, studying you like he was trying to decide whether you were worth his time. (spoiler: you were. that was the problem.) he shifted closer, his knee brushing yours, his grin sharpening as he watched you try so hard not to squirm. “cool. just making sure, since you look a little…” he let the word hang, raising an eyebrow as his gaze flicked to your flushed face. “...overheated.”

you laughed again, this time nervously, running a hand through your hair. “it’s just hot in here, man.” (it wasn’t. not really. but if that’s the excuse you wanted to cling to, kai wasn’t going to stop you.)

“yeah?” he leaned in, close enough that you could smell the beer on his breath, the faint bite of mint underneath it. “if you pass out or something, i guess i can be the guy who saves your dumb ass. might even give you mouth-to-mouth.” his voice was teasing, but there was something dark and heavy under it, something that made your pulse stutter. (it was the way he said it, like he’d already imagined the scenario—and like it wouldn’t just stop at saving you.)

your laugh came out strangled this time, caught somewhere between discomfort and something else. something you didn’t want to think about. (but kai could see it. the way your pupils dilated, the way your pulse ticked in your throat, the way your eyes darted—just for a second—to his mouth.)

“careful, puppy,” kai murmured, his voice low and dripping with amusement. his knee pressed harder against yours, and his grin sharpened, baring teeth. “you’re starting to look like you want me to put you out of your misery.”

it wasn’t hard to persuade you. not really. kai had always been good at that—finding the cracks, prying them open just wide enough to slip his fingers inside. (and you? you weren’t exactly built to resist. puppy-dog eyes, soft around the edges, desperate to please. fuck, you practically came pre-cracked.)

one minute, you were still in the delta psi beta living room, trying to laugh off the weight of kai’s knee pressed against yours, the heat of his breath brushing your ear. the next, you were stumbling down the hallways of your dorm, your head spinning with too many beers and too much him.

(you weren’t even sure how it had happened. you were saying, “nah, i’m good here, man,” in that too-light, too-nervous tone of yours, and, kai had tipped his head, given you that sharp-edged smirk, and said something like, “c’mon, puppy. let’s get out of this shithole.” and you—golden boy, poster child for frat excellence—had followed him like a lovesick idiot. like a dog. like his dog.)

by the time you reached your dorm, the hallway was dead silent. most of your neighbors were passed out cold, their doors closed, or too busy fucking to care about the pair of you fumbling with your keys. (not that kai would’ve cared if they had been watching. in fact, he probably would’ve loved it—eyes on him, knowing he was the one who’d gotten under your skin, the one dragging the president of delta psi around like some kind of trophy.)

“you’re a mess, president puppy,” kai drawled, his voice syrupy and slow, thick with condescension. his hand was on your wrist, his thumb brushing the inside of it, and it felt like he was taking your pulse—measuring every shaky beat. (too fast. too loud. too much.) he plucked the keys from your trembling fingers like you were too dumb to handle them yourself. (and maybe you were. at least, around him.)

“i’m fine,” you muttered, your voice wrecked and unconvincing. your cheeks were burning, your head buzzing, and your whole body felt like it was vibrating. (you weren’t fine. you didn’t even sound close to fine, and kai noticed. of course he noticed. he always noticed.)

the door swung open, and before you could step inside, kai was already crowding into your space. his hand slid from your wrist to your waist, his fingers digging in just enough to make your breath catch. (he gripped you like you belonged to him, his to hold, to keep, to fuck with. it scared you how much you wanted it.)

“man, this is sad,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear again. (he wasn’t even trying to be subtle anymore, and why would he? you weren’t exactly putting up a fight.) “big man on campus, and you can’t even get your own door open. what would your brothers think?”

“i said i’m fine,” you snapped, but your voice cracked halfway through, and kai laughed. (it wasn’t fair, the way his laugh hit you—sharp and mocking, but hot enough to make your stomach twist.)

“sure you are,” he said, kicking the door shut behind him with the heel of his boot. his eyes dragged over you, slow and deliberate, like he was assessing you. picking you apart. you felt like you were being stripped bare, and he hadn’t even touched you—not really.

“god, you’re pathetic,” he said, almost to himself, his lips curling into that infuriating smirk again. (but there was something darker underneath it, something hungry. like he was debating what to do with you now that he had you alone. like he was wondering how far he could push you before you cracked completely.)

and then his gaze dipped. lower. lingering.

kai tilted his head, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip. “you know,” he said, his voice a low purr, “i’ve heard a lot of rumors about you, puppy.”

you froze, blinking at him. “rumors?”

“mhm,” he said, circling you like a predator, his eyes dragging down your body. (you’d never felt so small before, which was ridiculous, considering you were taller than him. broader. bigger. but none of that mattered with kai. he had this way of making you feel exposed, raw, like a stupid kid being toyed with by someone much smarter.)

“wanna know the most interesting one?” he continued, and before you could respond, his hand was there now, palming you through your jeans, bold and unrelenting.

“people say you’re packing, president,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. (your breath hitched. your pulse was thundering now, hammering in your throat like it was trying to escape.) “biggest dick in the house, right? that’s what they say about you.”

his grin widened, and his hand squeezed—not enough to hurt, just enough to make your knees buckle. “but you know what i think?”

“kai,” you rasped, but it didn’t sound like a protest. not really.

“i think,” he said, leaning in close enough that his lips brushed your jaw, “it doesn’t matter how big it is if you don’t know how to use it.”

and then he was laughing again, sharp and mean, pulling back just enough to see the look on your face—flushed, panicked, and wrecked. (exactly how he liked you.)

kai’s thumb pressed harder, teasingly slow as he tilted his head, studying you with that infuriating smirk. “fuck,” he muttered under his breath, though it was loud enough for you to hear. his blue-grey gaze dragged lower, zeroing in on the bulge straining against the front of your khakis. (it was humiliating—how obvious it was, how needy you looked. and kai? he was eating it up, his smirk twisting wider as his fingers flexed against you.) “i mean, they weren’t kidding, were they?” his hand tightened, fingers curling around the outline of your cock, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. (the noise you made was somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, and the way kai’s eyes lit up said he fucking loved it.)

“that’s what you’ve been hiding under those stupid khakis all this time?” he said, his tone mocking but tinged with genuine curiosity. his thumb dragged slow and deliberate along the length of you, tracing the thick ridge of your shaft through the fabric. (you could feel the heat of his palm through the layers, the weight of it making your cock twitch helplessly under his hand.)

you swallowed hard, your throat dry, your hands gripping the edges of your desk like they were the only things keeping you upright. “kai,” you choked out, trying to sound firm, but it came out as a broken, desperate plea. (not that it mattered—kai wasn’t listening to the words. he was listening to the way you said them. the shaky breath. the crack in your voice. the way his name sounded like it had been ripped straight from your chest.)

“poor thing,” he said, shaking his head like he pitied you. (he didn’t, though. you could see it in the glint of his eyes—he was enjoying this, taking you apart piece by piece.) “all that equipment, and no one’s ever taught you what to do with it.” he leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as his voice dropped lower. “don’t worry, puppy.” he murmured, the nickname dripping with condescension. “i’ll take good care of you. teach you how to use it. maybe even test drive it myself.”

the words sent a shiver down your spine, your knees buckling slightly, and kai noticed. (of course he noticed. kai always noticed. he had a way of zeroing in on every crack in your armor, the way your chest heaved, the way your cock twitched under his hand, already leaking pre-cum and soaking through the fabric.) “you like that, don’t you?” he whispered, his hand still moving against you, slow and deliberate. (the pressure was maddening—just enough to make you ache, not enough to give you relief. he wanted you like this, trembling under his touch, desperate for more.) “bet you’ve been walking around campus thinking you’re hot shit, huh? thinking you’re god’s gift to women—” he paused, his smirk twisting crueler, “—or maybe men. which is it, puppy? you ever let any of those frat bros get on their knees for you?”

your face burned hot, the shame curling in your stomach like a knot. you tried to look away, but kai’s hand shot up, gripping your jaw and forcing you to meet his eyes. “didn’t think so,” he said, his grip tightening just enough to keep you still. (you couldn’t look away, even if you wanted to. and god, the way his thumb dragged over your bottom lip, tugging it down slightly, made your chest tighten.)

“so fucking clueless,” he murmured, almost to himself. “but that’s okay. i like my toys a little clueless.” his thigh pressed between your legs then, pinning you against the desk, and you couldn’t help the way your hips twitched forward, seeking friction. (it was embarrassing—how little control you had, how easily he could reduce you to this. but kai didn’t look disgusted. no, he looked thrilled.)

“bet you’ve got all kinds of stupid fantasies, don’t you, prez?” he murmured, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth. (he didn’t kiss you, though. he could have, but he didn’t. he was holding it just out of reach, teasing you, making you want it.) he gave a sharp laugh when your hips bucked forward again, chasing the friction like a desperate idiot. “good boy,” he said, his voice rough and low, dripping with approval that made your chest tighten. (it shouldn’t have felt good—it shouldn’t have made your cock throb—but it did, and kai fucking knew it.)

“let’s see if you’re worth the hype, huh? let’s see if all that talk about delta psi’s golden boy is true.” his hand slipping down to hook into your waistband. (you held your breath, your pulse hammering in your throat as he dragged your pants down just enough to free your cock, hard and already leaking pathetically.)

kai sucked in a breath, his grin spreading wide as his fingers wrapped around you, stroking slow and deliberate. “well, shit,” he said, his tone sharp and taunting. “guess they weren’t lying after all.” his thumb swiped over the head of your cock, smearing the pre-cum dripping down your shaft, and your knees nearly gave out at the sensation. (you were already a fucking wreck—your skin burning, your breathing ragged, your hips jerking helplessly into his hand like you couldn’t help yourself.)

kai’s hand slid down the length of your cock, his grip tightening just enough to draw a sharp gasp from your lips. (it was pathetic—how easily he had you trembling, how greedily your hips jerked forward, chasing the maddening friction. and kai? he fucking thrived on it. the glint in his blue-grey eyes sharpened, turning darker as he savored every choked whimper, every helpless twitch of your cock in his hand.)

"god, you really are dumb," he drawled, his smirk carving deeper into his face. his thumb swiped over the head of your cock, smearing the slick, sticky pre-cum pooling at the tip, making you jolt in his grip. the noise you made—a strangled mix of a gasp and a moan—shot straight to kai’s ego, his fingers tightening around you in response.) “you’re already dripping all over me, and I’ve barely done anything." (he wasn’t wrong—the wetness was obscene, slicking up his palm and leaving a glistening trail along the underside of your shaft as he stroked you slow and deliberate, every movement calculated to keep you teetering on the edge.)

your knees buckled again, your thighs trembling as you gripped the desk tighter, your head falling back with a broken whimper. "kai, please," you rasped, your voice cracking on the word. (it was humiliating—how wrecked you sounded, how easily he’d reduced you to this. but the worst part? he drank in your wrecked state like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen, a predator reveling in his prey’s helplessness.)

"please?" he echoed, his smirk widening, the mockery in his tone cutting like a knife. "what are you begging for, puppy? huh? you want me to let you cum?" his hand slowed, his thumb pressing teasingly into the slit at the tip of your cock, dragging the slick wetness down over your shaft in slow, deliberate circles. “you want me to let you cum?” (the way he said it—mocking and filthy, like it was a joke—made your chest tighten, your cock twitching helplessly in his hand.)

"y-yeah," you stammered, barely able to get the words out between ragged breaths. "please, kai, i—"

"not happening, prez," he cut you off sharply, his fingers tightening around your cock until you gasped, hips jerking forward on instinct. (the pressure was just shy of painful, his grip like a vice that left your thighs shaking, your mind spinning as the line between pleasure and pain blurred into something overwhelming.) "you don’t get to cum until i say so. got it?"

you nodded frantically, your voice lost to the desperate sounds spilling from your throat as your hips bucked forward again, chasing the friction kai kept just out of reach. (it didn’t matter how desperate you were—kai was in control now, and he was taking his sweet fucking time with you.)

"good boy," he murmured, his voice low and rough, laced with approval that made your cock throb harder in his hand. (the praise shouldn’t have felt so good—shouldn’t have made heat pool in your stomach, shouldn’t have sent another pulse of pre-cum leaking from the tip—but it did, and kai fucking knew it.)

his hand started moving again, slow and deliberate, his thumb teasing the sensitive underside of your cock with every stroke. (the pace was maddening—just enough to keep the coil in your stomach tightening, your chest heaving as you clawed at the desk for something, anything to ground yourself.)

but just as you felt yourself start to tip over the edge, just as the tight knot of pressure in your gut began to snap, kai stopped. “ah, ah,” he scolded, his tone dripping with mockery as he pulled his hand away completely, leaving you throbbing and leaking in the open air. (the sudden loss of contact was agony, your cock twitching helplessly, desperate for the friction he’d stolen away. but kai just leaned back, his smirk twisting crueler as he watched you squirm, your wrecked little whines only fueling his amusement.)

"look at you," he said, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. "so fucking desperate, so fucking needy. Is this how you are with everyone? or just me?" (his eyes dragged over you, taking in the way your cock throbbed, the way your chest heaved, the way your hips twitched forward uselessly, searching for relief.)

“kai,” you choked out, your voice wrecked and broken, your hands trembling as you reached for him. but he caught your wrist with a sharp laugh, shoving it back down onto the desk with enough force to make your breath hitch.

“uh-uh,” he said, his tone sharp as he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “you don’t get to touch me. you don’t get to touch yourself. you’ll sit here and take what I give you. understand?” (the weight of his words settled over you like a command, your head nodding frantically even as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, the need burning in your gut almost too much to bear.)

“good boy,” kai murmured again, his voice low and dripping with condescension as his hand returned to your cock, his fingers wrapping around you in a firm, punishing grip. (the pressure sent a fresh wave of slick pre-cum spilling from the tip, your hips jerking forward involuntarily as his pace picked up, rougher this time, just enough to keep you teetering on the edge.)

kai’s grip on your cock tightened, his fingers pressing into the slick, throbbing flesh as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “you know,” he drawled, his voice low and mocking, “i should make you beg louder. let everyone outside hear what a desperate little slut the president of the house really is.” (the words dripped from his mouth like poison, slow and deliberate, and the way his breath ghosted over your skin sent a violent shudder racing down your spine. your cock twitched in his hand, leaking shamelessly, and kai? he fucking noticed. of course.)

“god, just imagine it,” he continued, his smirk sharp enough to cut. “one of your precious brothers walking by, hearing those pathetic little noises you keep making.” he gave your cock a slow stroke, his thumb swiping over the head, spreading the slick pre-cum that was pooling there. “you think they’d recognize you? their golden boy prez, standing here with his cock out, dripping all over my hand?” his voice dropped lower, rougher, the words rumbling against your ear in a way that made your chest tighten, heat pooling low in your stomach.

(and he was right. god, he was right. the sharp edge in his voice, the shame curling hot and tight in your chest, the thought of someone walking in—it should have made you recoil, should have made you pull away. but it didn’t. it sent another pulse of heat rushing to your gut, your cock twitching shamelessly in his hand.)

“i—i don’t—” you started to protest, but the words dissolved into a broken moan as kai’s thumb pressed harder against the sensitive slit at the tip of your cock, smearing the slick pre-cum down the length of your shaft. (the sound of it—the wet, filthy noise of his strokes—filled the room, mingling with your shaky breaths and the soft creak of the desk under your trembling thighs. it was obscene, overwhelming, and it only made your knees buckle harder.)

“you’re such a fucking mess,” kai muttered, his grip tightening, his pace picking up just enough to keep you on edge. “standing here, dripping all over my hand like some needy little toy. what do you think your brothers would say if they saw you like this, huh?” his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his voice dropping into a filthy, teasing whisper.

“kai, please,” you rasped, your voice trembling, breaking, as you tugged weakly at his grip on your jaw. “someone might—”

“walk in?” kai cut you off, his smirk twisting wider. “yeah, they might.” he slowed his strokes, his hand moving in slow, deliberate circles over your cock, dragging his thumb along the sensitive underside with every pass. (the panic in your chest warred with the heat pooling low in your stomach, the thought of being caught making your thighs tremble. but it wasn’t just panic, was it? the shame, the humiliation, the filthy thrill of it—it had your cock throbbing harder, leaking more, the slick wetness making his strokes even louder, even more obscene.)

“hell, maybe i’ll leave the door open wider,” he mused, tilting his head as if he were actually considering it. “let them get a real good look at their precious prez, all wrecked and dripping for me. you think they’d believe it? that their golden boy is just a dumb little slut when he’s with me?”

the thought made your chest tighten, your cock twitching in his hand despite yourself. (you couldn’t help it—the image of someone walking in, seeing you like this, flushed and trembling, your cock flushed dark and leaking all over kai’s hand—it sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, shame burning bright and hot in your gut.)

“kai, don’t,” you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper, but he just laughed—a low, cruel sound that made your stomach twist.

“oh, puppy,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery as his fingers tightened around your shaft, squeezing just enough to make you gasp. “don’t act like you don’t want it. you’d love it if someone saw you like this. you’d fucking love it, wouldn’t you?”

(and the worst part? he wasn’t wrong. the humiliation, the thrill, the filthy heat of it—it was eating you alive, making your hips jerk forward, your cock throbbing against his palm as he teased you mercilessly.)

kai’s grin split wider as he watched you collapse against the desk, your body trembling and slack. you were so wrecked, so far gone, and yet somehow still holding onto whatever shred of dignity you had left—barely. your cock twitched helplessly in the open air, shiny with slick pre-cum that trailed obscenely down the length, pooling on the desk’s polished surface. “god, prez, look at you,” he muttered, his tone dripping with mockery as his gaze dragged over your wrecked body. “such a pretty mess.” his hand hovered near your face, fingers flexing like he was deciding whether or not to touch you again. (the anticipation made your stomach churn, heat pooling low in your gut as you fought the urge to beg for it.)

you whimpered, barely able to lift your head to meet his eyes, and his grin turned downright feral. “hmm? what’s the matter? cat got your tongue?” he teased, his voice low and mocking. then, slowly, he reached for his belt, his fingers brushing deliberately against the metal buckle before undoing it. the sharp, metallic clink sent a shiver racing down your spine. the sound was too loud in the quiet room, cutting through the heavy, oppressive air like a blade. it felt deliberate, like a show just for you, and your thighs clenched together, trying to hide the way your cock twitched at the thought of what was coming.

kai slid the belt free from the loops of his jeans in one smooth motion, the leather whispering against the fabric as he pulled it taut between his hands. “you think you deserve it?” he asked, his voice low and rough, every word dragging across your skin like sandpaper.

“i—” you swallowed hard, your voice breaking as you tried to speak. your throat was dry, your lips trembling as you forced yourself to look up at him. the weight of his gaze was suffocating. “i’ll do whatever you want, kai. just—please.” the words spilled out, raw and desperate, the humiliation sharp as you heard yourself begging. but you didn’t care. the ache was unbearable, your entire body trembling with the need for him to just touch you again.

“whatever i want?” he echoed, his voice dripping with condescension. he popped the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down with an infuriating slowness. (the metallic rasp of the zipper sent another shiver through you, your breathing hitching as he shoved the fabric down his hips, revealing the outline of his cock straining against his boxer briefs.)

your gaze flicked downward, drawn to him like a magnet, and your breath caught in your throat. (the hard, thick length of him pressed against the fabric was impossible to ignore, the heat pooling in your gut turning molten as your thighs trembled.)

“like what you see?” he asked, his voice sharp with mockery, as if he could read every filthy thought running through your head. he steeped closer, his free hand reached out, fingers curling around the back of your neck, his grip firm as he pulled you forward. (the heat of his palm was dizzying, his skin rough against your own, and the closeness made it impossible to think—your cock throbbing painfully as you swallowed hard, your lips parting on instinct.)

you nodded frantically, your wide eyes flicking up to meet his, and kai’s laugh was sharp and cruel. “of course you do,” he muttered, shaking his head. “you’re so fucking easy.”

then he kissed you—hard, messy, claiming—his teeth scraped against your bottom lip, his tongue sliding into your mouth without hesitation. (the taste of him was overwhelming, bittersweet and electric, his mouth demanding and unrelenting, and the sharp sting of his teeth made a broken noise escape from your throat.) his fingers tightened in your hair, pulling you closer, and your hips bucked forward instinctively, your cock brushing against the hard length of his.

kai pulled back, your lips still parted and aching for his. strings of saliva clung between you, catching the dim light in obscene little trails as he licked his lips, his eyes gleaming with something dark and satisfied. “getting ahead of yourself, prez?” he teased, then, without waiting for a response, his free hand slipped between your bodies, wrapping around both of your cocks in one firm, unforgiving grip.

the sudden pressure made your knees buckle, a wrecked moan spilling from your lips before you could stop it. kai didn’t let up, his hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes that had your thighs trembling. (the slick slide of your cock against his sent shockwaves of heat through your body, your breath hitching as you fought the urge to thrust into his hand like some desperate animal.)

“fuck,” kai muttered, his voice rough and low. his eyes were locked on the sight of your cocks sliding together, his grip tightening as he picked up the pace. “look at you. dripping all over me like the needy little slut you are.” the words were cruel, but the heat in his voice, the way his breath hitched as his cock throbbed against yours, sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through you.

“kai,” you gasped, your hips jerking forward as your thighs trembled, but he didn’t let up. his strokes were relentless, his pace a steady rhythm that had your breath coming in short, shaky gasps.

“bet you’ve never done this with your little frat bros, huh?” kai said, his smirk splitting wider. “jerking each other off after practice? getting off in the showers?” (the filthy imagery burned in your mind, and you couldn’t help the way your cock twitched in his hand, your chest heaving as heat flooded your face.)

“n-no,” you stammered, but the broken, wrecked tone of your voice only seemed to amuse him further.

“liar,” he hissed, his teeth catching the edge of your jaw as his strokes grew faster, rougher. “bet you fucking loved it. all those eyes on you. you’re such a goddamn exhibitionist, prez.”

your knees buckled, the tension in your body overwhelming as every nerve seemed to scream at once. your head dropped forward, your forehead nearly brushing his shoulder, and you gasped out a shaky breath, hips jerking forward in desperate, uncontrollable movements. the pressure in your gut was unbearable now, winding tighter with every stroke of his hand.

kai’s breath was hot against your ear, his lips brushing the shell of it in a way that made you shudder. his grip on your cock tightened, his strokes quick and unrelenting, every pass of his hand sending sparks of heat racing through you. he was relentless, calculated, dragging you right to the edge and holding you there, and it felt like your body was on the verge of snapping in half.

“don’t hold back,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, almost a whisper. it was close enough that you could feel the vibration of it against your skin. “cum for me, wanna feel it all over my hand.”

the words hit like a spark to dry kindling, and the knot in your stomach unraveled all at once. you came with a wrecked, desperate sound, your thighs shaking as sticky ropes of cum spilled over his hand, dripping down to pool on the floor between you. (the sight of it—messy and obscene—made your chest heave, shame and pleasure tangling together in a way that made your head swim.)

kai didn’t stop. his hand kept moving, relentless and precise, dragging you through the aftershocks with strokes that were both merciless and grounding. his own cock pulsed against yours, the sticky heat of his release smearing over your stomach and the softening length of your cock as he groaned low in your ear.

“fuck,” he hissed, his breath hot against your neck, his voice thick with satisfaction and something darker. his hand stayed wrapped around both of you, slick and filthy, dragging his release over your skin as he pressed his lips to the curve of your shoulder. “look at you,” he muttered, the words rough, almost reverent, as his teeth sank into the flesh of your shoulder. the sharp sting sent a jolt through you, grounding you even as your mind swirled, overwhelmed and dazed.

for a moment, the room was filled only with the sound of your ragged breathing, the wet, obscene slide of his hand slowing as he loosened his grip. his chest rose and fell against your back, warm and solid as he held you there, pressed close, his body a steadying anchor. He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze. his eyes were dark, heavy-lidded and glinting with amusement and satisfaction as his lips curled into a lazy smirk.

“messy,” he drawled, his voice low and languid as his fingers swiped through the cum streaking your stomach, smearing it further over your skin in deliberate, slow motions. he lifted his hand, holding it up for both of you to see. the sticky fluid dripped between his fingers, glistening in the dim light as he turned his hand slightly, watching the way it clung to his skin.

his blue-grey eyes flicked back to yours, the amusement there sharpening into something more commanding. “open up, puppy,” he said softly, the edge of authority in his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

your chest heaved, the remnants of your release leaving you spent and pliant, too dazed to resist. slowly, your lips parted, your body obeying on instinct. kai’s fingers slipped into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue, the taste of salt and musk filling your senses.

“good boy,” he murmured, his voice soft but cutting, the praise settling over you like a warm weight. his thumb dragged over your bottom lip, smearing a trace of cum there as he withdrew his fingers, leaving your mouth feeling empty, aching for more.

#eepwtf’s works ! ( •)▄︻テحكـ━一💥#kai parker x reader #male x male #top x bottom #x male reader #x male smut #18+ mdni #tvd smut #the vampire diaries

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zyonsay · 1 year ago

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Js came back from a mental health break to see ZYON REQS OPEN !!! How about a Loscar x male reader smut? I don't know if you write for Logan Sargeant since you don't have him in your list so— 😭 if not you can change the driver to Lando I don't mind, but the three of them are drunk and playing drunk truth or dare and things take a turn - 🔥

I dare you LN4&OP81

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: A game of truth or dare between you, Lando and Oscar takes a turn...

Reader: Male

Warnings: Suggestive, NSFW, Dude-bro language, Horsegirl-ified reader because i said so

Now playing: 'Runway Walk' by Demrick

AN: Hey there! i FINALLY finished this and icl, not my best work. BUT i hope y'all can still enjoy this!

Loud chants echoed through the dimly lit bar. Your team members had picked you up and were now parading you around. The bar only had limited access to your equipe of elite show riders, a few close associates along with other familiar faces. Apparently, it was your lucky day, because your best friend finally had time to celebrate one of your many wins with you. Lando and yourself had been friends since diaper times and stuck together ever since. Even though you both were inseparable, your careers were demanding and didn’t offer you much time to hang out. He was now a rising F1 star, and you fought your way into prestigious show arenas, your schedules were now filled with training, media appointments and various other events. But, whenever you did find time to catch up, you always had a good time together. Not so recently he had introduced you to his teammate, and “friend”, Oscar. He’s a sweet guy, his smile felt like a little piece of sunshine and the swoop in his hair reminded you of gentle waves in the ocean. The chemistry between Lando and Oscar was kind of obvious, but you didn’t want to assume anything. That was until Lando had drunkenly admitted to his situationship.

The loud music boomed trough the doors as you stumbled out into the cold night air. Coordinating your wobbly legs while giggling uncontrollably was difficult. Very difficult. Lando had noticed your struggles and wrapped an arm around your waist while dragging you to the nearest bench. Maybe if you were sat, you wouldn’t fall on your face. A soft breeze blew trough the city and a slight shiver ran down your spine. It wasn’t actually cold, just refreshing enough. Lando had also sat down by now and leaned his head back while closing his eyes. Your gaze flickered to him, the street lanterns painted the contours of his face in orange hues. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the poetic mood you’ve found yourself in, but now felt like the right time to tell him how you feel. You’ve always loved him, but you were also scared of telling him, or anyone for that matter. Besides. You two had very busy lives and barely got to see each other, so how would a relationship work out? But now wasn’t the time to worry about that. Not when he was looking so beautiful. How do you say this? How do you confess your feelings without sounding like an absolute idiot. Gathering all your courage, your lips parted, and the first word was ready to leave them. “Y/n. I gotta tell you something.”, his eyes were still closed, and his head was still leant back. A frustrated sigh fell from his figure, and he shifted his seat. Now he was looking at you, God, those beautiful eyes. They were so sincere and looked like a fresh margarita at the beach. “I- “, his gaze avoided your own for a second before his eyes darted up to yours again. “I think I might be into men. Like in a gay way.” That was the most bro-dude way to say that, but it sure suits him. A small smile crept onto your face. “Thanks for trusting me.”, you grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Coming out to anyone is difficult, especially when you can’t predict how they’ll react. This was worth a lot to you.

“…and I sort of have a thing going right now,” Shit. SHIT. What? If it is some random dude, you swore to yourself that- “with Oscar.” Your brain must’ve short circuited right then and there. Your expression must’ve given your shock away, because Lando looked really worried all of a sudden. “…you okay mate?”, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. Quickly, you need to react, otherwise he’ll think you’re a weirdo. “Yeah, totally.”, you gulped, “I just didn’t expect you to start something with your teammate.” Absently, he scratched his arm. “Yeah, i gotta be careful. You know, with PR and stuff.”

Obviously, Oscar is also attending the afterparty. As much as you wanted to dislike him for getting together with your crush, he was so nice that you’d feel like an asshole. As sour as the taste in your mouth was, you were happy for them. They seem to fit together really well, and you couldn’t be mad because your best friend’s relationship is working out, that’s just rude. Nevertheless, the little touches they shared filled you with jealousy. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Just so you know, I have your favorite white with me. In case you wanna celebrate some more later.”, you could basically hear the smug smile in Lando’s voice. Tempting. Maybe you weren’t feeling so sour after all.

Without much care, you left your shoes somewhere in the hallway, while leading Oscar and Lando towards the balcony. Usually when you were travelling around for competitons, you’d rent a hotel room, since there wasn’t really any point in staying longer than you had to. But for the finale of your season, you wanted to enjoy the beautiful city, before departing again. While your Horse was being flown back to your home country, you decided to rent a holiday home. It was relatively close to the coast, so you’d hear the lively waves when opening the windows. Your thoughts were cut short by the sound of shuffling cards. More specifically, a deck of UNO cards. Wait what. Why was he shuffling an UNO deck? Where did he even get that from?

“Nah dude, put that back down.” Lando slurred while lazily swatting Oscars hands away. Disgruntled, but indifferent enough, Oscar put the deck of cards back down. “Wild idea: lets revert back to seventh grade and play truth or dare.”, Lando’s face lit up at that. In his mind, he was already going trough all the evil dares he could make you guys do. “We’re literal adults.”, Oscar deadpanned. For a moment, it looked like Lando was thinking about something. “Well, let’s make things more interesting. Every time you pick truth or won’t do the dare, you take off one clothing piece.” He held up one finger, so it was clear that you wouldn’t be stripping completely naked in seconds. That’s an awfully odd request, but with the taste of wine still lingering on your tongue, you could care less. And so, it begun.

“Y/n, truth or dare?”, his intentions were pretty clear, but you wanted to toy with him for a little. “Dare.”, you took another sip of the fourth or fifth Bottle of white wine, that you three have been passing around like biscuits. “An easy one to start with, do a handstand.” Hah, that was a piece of cake. Scrambling off the rattan lounge, you readied yourself to do a handstand against the wall. A free-standing one might be a bit too confident in your current state. With a swift motion you hurled your legs into the air and banged them against the wall, while you did your best to not flop onto the floor. Considering how dizzy you were, you did a good job. “Impressive!”, Oscar giggled. There was nothing to laugh about, the bastard was up next. “Truth or Dare, Os?”, he was quick to answer. “Dare.” Bingo. As rarely as you and Lando got to catch up, he does talk about Oscar often. This man doesn’t even know hoe much you know about him. “I dare you to whistle.”, his smile faded. He was ninety percent sure you were aware of the elephant in the room. He sighed before pulling his shirt off. “I can’t whistle.”

Admittedly, this was much more fun than you initially thought it’d be. It must’ve already been something past midnight, but you guys were chatting away on the balcony. By now, your and Oscar’s shirts and socks had gone, while Lando was barely left in his briefs. “Truth or Dare?”, Lando intently looked at you. “Dare.” Now you’ve gotten yourself stuck in his trap. “I dare you to kiss me.”, now that made you stop in your tracks. “Dude, I’m not a homewrecker.” Oscar’s hickory eyes had a playful glint in them. “I’ll allow it.”, he leant against the backing of the lounge, readjusting his seat. Your heart pounded loudly in your chest. This is what you wanted for so long, but this feels taboo. Nevertheless, you leant forward and slid a hand behind your friend’s neck. Pulling him closer your lips met his and a contempt sigh left Lando. You felt Oscars eyes on you, they were burning holes into your skull. After all you were kissing his fling right now. The world seemed as if it was melting apart into a big mess of colors, but that all stopped when Lando gently pulled away. With slightly shaky hands, you settled back into a comfortable sitting position. “Oscar.”, he hummed, “Truth or dare?” He exaggeratedly tapped his finger against his chin. “Truth.” He now looked directly into your eyes. “Why didn’t you have a problem with me kissing Lando.”, his eyes widened at your question. For a moment he seemed to think for a good answer, but instead of speaking up, he glanced over at Lando. The brit loudly gulped, it sounded almost comical, before speaking up. “So, the thing is…” His, whatever Oscar was to him, tapped him on the knee, encouraging Lando to speak up. “I like you. Like in a gay way.” Dumbfounded, you shifted your gaze from Oscar to Lando and then back again at the pale Aussie. “And you’re ok with that?!”, you pointed your finger towards Oscar. “You see, we actually wanted you to... join our relationship.” His tone was unsure, and he kept searching Lando’s gaze.

Now you were officially flabbergasted. This must be a fever dream, right? There was no way this was real right now.

Obviously, it was, because now you were sat here with Lando kissing down your neck and Oscar pressed up behind you, squeezing your thighs, hips and waist. You leant your head backwards against Oscar’s shoulder, whining quietly. You whispered sharply, “I dare you to take those damn pants off.”, while fiddling with the buckle of his belt. Oscar chuckled lightly before slipping his pants off and propping himself up behind you again. Carefully, you reached behind you and felt his hard member in your hand. With gentle motions, you began palming him as best as possible. Lando smiled against your neck, his eyes darting up to meet Oscar’s gaze. His tanned hand tugged on your underwear before swiftly slipping underneath it. You gasped at the tight feeling of his hand around your dick. Slowly but surely, he started pumping up and down, meanwhile he continued his artwork of hickeys along your neck and chest bone. Not wanting to neglect his hard cock, you wrapped your hand around it and pressed your thumb over the tip. He exhaled sharply. Oscar leaned in close to your ear. “You wanna suck them?” Stuck in an endless loop of pleasure and torture, you could only whine as a pathetic attempt at an answer.

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joicecubes · 8 months ago

Text

this started as a twitter post but it got way too long

i feel. INSANE. ABOUT FIDDLESTAN YOU GUYS. i’ll admit i didn’t get it at first, like the original concept seems kinda bonkers, they never interact! what a silly rarepair! BUT NO. I SAW A SINGLE PIECE OF FANART AND IT WAS OVER FOR ME. IM HOOKED. im sorry i need to talk about them

my favorite set-up for fiddlestan, and the one i see most people going with, is the idea that fiddleford comes back to ford’s house after ford’s already been sucked through the portal, so he finds stan instead. and thats like such perfect/devastating (depending on how you look at it) timing because their wounds from ford are both so raw.

i feel like this is gonna get long so. gay rambling under the cut

on the one hand, they get from each other what they never got from ford. or at least, what they lost from ford. fiddleford wants love, he wants his unwavering devotion to ford to be reciprocated. and stan, being such a deeply lonely person, can give him that! what he wants is companionship. he wants a friend, like what he had in his brother. he wants forgiveness. and god, fiddleford is one of the kindest, most forgiving characters in the show. if anyone will see where stan is coming from, if anyone can extend forgiveness and understanding where ford fell flat, it’s fiddleford.

and while this exemplifies just how deeply they would need each other in this scenario, when you think about how tightly they both clung to ford, there presents a very real possibility that one or both of them would feel like ford’s replacement.

stan is ford’s twin. people have played with the idea that fiddleford would see a lot ford in stan, even though they may not be very similar in demeanor. they look the same. and deep down, they do have similarities. alex hirsch said in a dvd commentary that there is more of ford in stan than he even realizes, and fiddleford would probably see that. not to mention just how deeply he would miss him.

and when stan has always felt like a worse version of ford, you can imagine he might feel like a stand-in, especially as him and fiddleford get closer. fiddleford, whether he means to or not, would definitely see his best friend in stan. he has his face for god’s sake!! and would stan just accept it? would he be upset to be seen in this light, to act as a replacement, or would he accept that he’ll always be second to ford? either way is just. DEVASTATING. for fiddleford to unintentionally confirm all of stan’s deepest fears and insecurities…

and then there’s what fiddleford is to stan. while i don’t think fiddleford would feel as deeply a replacement as stan does, he IS a big fucking nerd. and stan probably begged him for help getting ford back when he found out that fiddleford is not only a scientist, but worked on the portal in the first place. and he of course wants ford back too, but it wouldn’t surprise me if fiddleford ends up feeling like stan only keeps him around for that purpose and that purpose alone. to learn more about ford, to live vicariously through him as ford’s best friend. because stan is desperate to know more about him, to satiate this need, this wound of missing his brother for over a decade.

god and all the little things too… fiddleford being riddled with anxiety and stan being able to ground him, to knock some much-needed sense into him the next time he wants to pick up that memory gun. stan struggling to take care of himself, to see his own self worth, and fiddleford being there to make sure he eats enough food, reminds him to shower, helps wash or cut his unkempt hair. falling asleep holding each other, because they need that comfort, that warmth, that heartbeat, to feel okay enough to rest.

ugh you could do sooo much with these bitches it drives me up the wall. i feel so unwell just thinking about them. i could yap even more but i’ll keep that for another post

#cubes yapping #they make me want to bash my head into a wall #thanks for reading i have so much to say about them #also i’m shipping fiddlestan here but none of this is meant to suggest stancest implications ew #the point is just that fidds and ford fulfill similar emotional needs for stan yk #gravity falls #fiddleford mcgucket #stanley pines #stan pines #fiddlestan #fiddleford x stanley #stanley x fiddleford #rambling #so much rambling #stanford pines

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yokumirumerafan · 2 months ago

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Hello I’m glad requests are open I didn’t want to send something in without double checking. I was wondering how the members of the bakusquad (+Shinso if possible) would react to the reader being completely oblivious to the guys flirting or crushing on them. They’re very much under the impression that they’re all just being nice, the reader is crushing on them but they’re under the impression that the guys are just good friends.

(I hope this makes sense I’ve been trying to word this as best I can. English isn’t my strong suit)

Lmao same tho I'm Ukrainian and sometimes even grammarly doesn't save me T^T

Anyway, I got you here's what you asked for <33

🧡 Bakusquad (+Shinsou) Reacting to an Oblivious Reader 💥

💥 Bakugo Katsuki

This man is dying inside.

He’s not the type to just say how he feels, but he thinks it’s so obvious—why else would he be tolerating someone this much?!

“Oi, dumbass, I don’t just hang out with anyone.”

He literally glares when someone tells him to confess directly, because he did—at least in his mind.

When you respond with, “Aww, you’re such a nice friend, Bakugo!” he nearly explodes on the spot.

He WILL corner you one day, slamming his hands on the wall: “I LIKE YOU, GOT IT? NOT AS A FRIEND—AS SOMEONE I WANNA DATE.”

If you’re still confused? God help him.

⚡ Kaminari Denki

At first, he thinks it’s kinda cute—until he realizes you actually don’t get it.

He flirts all the time, drops winks, compliments your outfits, even does the classic stretch-arm-over-the-shoulder move.

“You know, you look really cute today.” “Aw, you’re so nice, Kaminari!”

He MALFUNCTIONS. 💀

Will absolutely whine about it to the squad: “HOW DENSE CAN THEY BE?!”

Eventually just straight-up says: “Okay, but what if I wanna be more than friends?” while pouting.

🍡 Sero Hanta

He thinks it’s hilarious at first—your clueless reactions are kinda cute.

But when he casually asks, “Would you ever date a guy like me?” and you say, “Of course! You’re such a great friend!”

Bro.exe has stopped working.

He gives you SO MANY chances to realize it—lingering touches, compliments, lowkey flirting—and yet, nothing.

Will eventually just be like, “Okay, but real talk—I like you. Like, ‘hold hands and kiss’ like you.”

🍗 Kirishima Eijiro

He’s so patient but also SO SHY when it comes to actually saying the words.

Compliments you constantly: “You’re amazing, Y/N! Anyone would be lucky to date you!”

“Aww, thanks, Kiri! You’re such a good friend.”

Visible frustration but still smiling. 😃

Tries to do cute, romantic gestures—like gifting you things, taking you out for food—but you still think it’s platonic.

Eventually has to hype himself up and confess directly: “I really, really like you, Y/N—not just as a friend. Can we go out?”

💜 Shinsou Hitoshi

He thinks you’re doing this on purpose.

Like, there’s NO WAY someone can be this dense, right?

Flirts in his usual deadpan but smooth way: “You know, you’re kinda my favorite person.”

“Aww, that’s sweet, Shinsou! You’re my favorite, too.”

…bruh.

He doesn’t even get mad, just stares at you in disbelief.

One day, he straight-up asks, “What would I have to do to make you realize I like you?”

Once you finally understand, he just sighs: “Took you long enough.”

💖 CONCLUSION: The Bakusquad loves you, but LORD do you make it difficult. Someone (probably Mina) has to step in and spell it out for you. Once you finally get it, though? Worth it.

(Also my gay ass wants to add the girls too so...)

🌸 Mina Ashido

This girl is losing her mind.

Like, she is being SO OBVIOUS. Flirting? ✅ Randomly holding your hand? ✅ Cuddling up to you? ✅ Calling you her “cute little crush”? ✅

And yet, you still giggle and go, “Haha, you’re so affectionate, Mina! You’d make such a great girlfriend for someone.”

EXCUSE ME???

She screams into a pillow later.

Starts getting more and more dramatic about it. One day, she deadass twirls her hair and says: “Soooo, wanna be my girlfriend, cutie?”

“Wait… are you serious???”

She grabs you by the shoulders: “YES, I HAVE BEEN FOR MONTHS.”

Lowkey fake cries when you finally say yes because IT TOOK YOU THIS LONG. 😭

🎸 Jirou Kyoka

This woman is struggling.

She’s not as obvious as Mina, but her crush is painfully obvious to the squad.

Tries to play it cool but always blushes when you compliment her.

“You’re so talented, Jirou! I love listening to you play!”

“Pffft, whatever… thanks.” (internal gay panic)

Writes you a whole-ass song about liking someone oblivious and plays it for you.

“Wow, that’s such a relatable song! I hope your crush likes you back!”

Jirou.exe has crashed.

One day, she just gives up and straight-up says: “Dude. I like you. A lot. Please tell me you get it now.”

When you finally understand, she groans and facepalms but still hugs you super tight.

Final Thoughts:

Bakusquad (and now Mina & Jirou) are fighting for their lives.

You’re just out here thinking everyone’s super friendly while they all suffer. 😭

Someone (probably Mina or Kaminari) eventually LOCKS YOU IN A ROOM and forces you to think about it.

Once you finally get it, they all cheer and lowkey roast you for taking so long. 💀

#mha #mha headcanons #mha x reader #mha scenarios #mha boys #mha girls #bakusquad #bakusquad x reader #bakusquad x y/n #bakugo x reader #kirishima x reader #denki x reader #sero x reader #shinsou x reader #mina x reader #jirou x reader #merafan

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midnight1nk · 14 days ago

Text

So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

OH we technically guessed it right, we are getting an episode with 3 after all. Hell yeah! For that, friends, we each get an ice cream (gonna get myself some mint chocolate chip)

Now that we have our snack, let's enjoy the episode, shall we?

(the following is my live reaction:)

(god i love the intro so much, it makes my brain happy like :3 I'm telling you it's my Saturday morning cartoon)

YOOO are we getting more of 3 and Bob dynamic? oh HELL YEAH!

You gotta admit, we've been waiting for interesting character dynamics!! This was the ones I was on my list ever since the "No TV Make Mario No Okie Dokie" episode (but fr can they be money-loving besties? for me specifically?)

"sugar" right......

Well..... I mean, they are pretty valuable. Which ones were they? Someone pass me some thin mints

Bob: "And I took those cookies from you!" Why do I imagine 3 pulling the whole "taking candy from a baby" scenario and steal a wagon of those cookies from a Girl Scout? Either that or 3's scout leader for the SMG4 Kids, Girl Scout being gender neutral. Eh, probably the former, but could you imagine? *secretly writes this down*

Y'know it would be crazy if it was in the daycare and it was the kids

their lil brave march into the daycare, that really got a giggle out of me hehe

Bob: "These are dangerous guys." He's not wrong, they can be scary sometimes

the RETURN of Gooby4.... oh....

*WOTFI 2024 flashbacks* 😶 huh. (let's just move on, ok?)

(update: yeah don't think I didn't see 3 with the brainrot smh)

3: "I'M TOO YOUNG AND GORGEOUS TO DIE" PFFT HAHAHA that seriously got me, that's good ......wait. y'know how I said that 3 might be insecure about his self-image? huh. well, guess what's gonna be a new addition to the tier list :D

MEGGY?

ah, that makes sense 😊↕️ look at her, she looks so happy like :>

oh gurl, not that you would know but that's not what they meant /lh

YAY the M&M (sibling) duo is here! ofc he would be

"sugar rush" HAHAHA man they really do be saying some great lines this episode

oop that little bit of animation with 3, love that they sneak those lil bits in

welp, worst person you can have to teach about how "sharing is caring" haha (if anyone's going to bring up the endorsement usb, that didn't count, let's be clear on that)

wait, hang on, I got another bit of these:

writer Ink: "...And then the rat gang surround Bob and pull out their cheese swords." producer Ink: "Wow, I get it'll be tough for him to get out of that situation." writer Ink: "Actually, it's going to be easy, barely an inconvenience!" producer Ink: "Oh, really?" writer Ink: "Yeah, he's just going to show off how hot he is and then the rats would die from his attractiveness. Like they would say 'Oh no, he's hot!'" producer Ink: "Every one of them?" writer Ink: "Every one of them." producer Ink: "Wow, I'm glad he was able to defeat them with the power of gay awakenings... or something, I can't tell." writer Ink: "I mean, is anyone in the SMG4 universe really a 100% straight and/or cis?" producer Ink: "Fair enough! But what about Francis?" writer Ink: "Hey, shut up (he's dead)"

/silly

anyway, look how happy 3 is, enjoying that story :)

as someone who watched all of the final destination and saw movies, 3's not wrong

me likey :D

hold on, how come the kids get a free cappuccino? I want one! I wanna try 3's coffee >:( /silly

Bob: "Please go the fuck to sleep" OMG I haven't heard this audio for SO LONG, it was bc the I was rewatching a 64 Blooper "Shoot to the Observatory in the Sky". For what? uuuh it's confidential for the time being, folks. anyway this really hit me with nostalgia like you have no idea

PFFT HAHAHAHAHA I might pass out oh fuck

idc what anyone says, this is the joke of all time

oh i hate that png of Mario and his teeth /lh

NO MARIO THAT'S NOT IT

AY now Mario can match with Pirate 4 from the "Mario PC Virus" episode

btw he's so sweet with the kids like 4 does 😭 (just unfortunately putting them in dangerous situations unintentionally, whoops)

*head in hands* naurrrrr

*wheeze* the cutaway from that tho

yep, everything coming together, huh boys?

c'mon Bob, you got us in this mess, just give them the money!!

😦 and we're fuuuuuuuuuucked

OUGH I felt that to my core. stepping on legos are the worst smh

YES lesson here, folks: adapt on the battlefield

OUGH i felt that AGAIN

See? Bob was right, kids are dangerous (if you give them the right stuff) 😊↕️

goddammit we were so close

the boss? MARTY?! OH SHIT HE'S BACK, I TOLD YALL

ik 3, ik but that's GOOD, for me specifically

I gotta love this moment bc genuinely Marty is a menacing villain if you think about every crime he's ever done but because he's a cardboard cutout, most of us in the audience don't really take him seriously. For 3 and Mario tho, being in WOTFI 2023 and the poisonous pasta sauce fiasco, they know what he's capable of but they can always kick his ass again, just like last time

please puzzles, can you recruit marty? it would be cool i swear

oh, is Marty going to be mad about what 3 did?

*blink blink* wha?

Oh, I guess we're gonna have to go with that narrative. Like I said, we gotta adapt. it's time to improvise!!

Marty: "I'll let this sugar incident slide...this time." 👀 this time?

OOP and the cops got him. wait. WAITWAITWAIT HE'S GOING TO JAIL! maybe not in the same row but MAYBE he's with Puzzles rn in the same jail!!

sorry, this is just so adorable to see 💙

one day, we'll get "I need a hero" (shrek 2 cover) on an episode *cough cough* PV plus *cough*. Hey, if I was able to manifest the "Friends on the Other Side" into the show, we can do this

😨 OWWWW THIS IS WORSE THAN THE LEGO I FELT THAT SOMEHOW

sidenote: I do love 3's sunglasses here, slay honestly! It kinda reminds me a lot of Shadow's from the Sonic calendar art, strange for me to just say that but it's true (one day I'll have "Mario in Sonic 3". one day.......)

YUP this is a different jail from last time!! Not that this would stop him from escaping but wouldn't it be cool if we... gee idk... have him recruited for some revenge thing. perhaps 👀

(Team, if you pan to the right and we see puzzles, I would scream)

Oh, but trust. the cardboard kid is gonna come back somehow. Probably not alive bc the one who did it for Marty was Mario (y'know, aka the Avatar), but this cutout's going to be important somehow

Congrats to ElisCZ for your art being featured in the end credits! 🎉 And anniversary fanart for Puzzlevision no less, hell yea!!

(hey Team, why Puzzles? Not that I hate the choice but any particular reason why? hmmm *sits cutely* /silly)

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Wow, this was such a silly and fun episode! Seriously Team, you've done a great job, yall got be CRACKLING throughout the whole thing which isn't an easy feat. AND a 3 + Bob dynamic? I LOVE IT!! This was so good and I really hope we get to have more episodes like this, either with team-up dynamics or character exploration (like 3 in particular).

Now, as for my tier list I mentioned earlier, here's the updated version from the first one:

yep, 3's self-image issues are definitely in the "it keeps me up at night" pile 😌↕️

Anyway MARTY IS BACK!! Oh man, I'm REALLY hoping Puzzles would also recruit him into the revenge plan. He would be, dare I say it, perfect for it. Ok ok, you guys gotta see my (creative) vision here:

we will need Marty to transfer to solitary confinement row with Puzzles, or just have them in the same building, either one works

Then, for the next arc around June, WPNZ breaks Puzzles out of jail (and Marty uses the opportunity to get out of there too with his "son"), and then our two antagonists get a chance to have a whole arc for themselves to bond. y'know the whole strangers to friends to breakup (read: divorce) to reconciling. Hell, the Crew doesn't even need to be part of it at all, and that way we raise the stakes higher for the future. Side note: they didn't know Marty was in jail.

WOTFI 2025 would have Marty as the main anatagonist but this time, the whole Crew (yes. even Karen) would be there and once he's defeated but not killed, Puzzles would come and recruit him. Idk, probably for Marty losing his son or something bc of them.

THEN we get Puzzlevision Plus/IGBP 2 (+ the ultimate test of 3's character development if he gets recruited right before it)

😎 eh eh? how's that? *crickets* .....yea, like that's ever gonna happen hehe. I'll just uh. leave this in my concept vault and hopefully I'll get the fic out before the next arc. I wouldn't even count that tho if I were you. I really don't have much to say for this review other than that this was such an enjoyable episode, so have these instead:

Look at the cuties ^^. That's all from me, folks! I'll see yall in the next one, and remember: numbers always go first!

#smg4 #smg4 spoilers #ink reviews #fr this was such a pleasant surprise and I LOVED it 💙#certainly lots to think about after today #also update on the tier list ig LMAO #ALSO also I didn't forget the brainrot 3 was watching!! just didn't get to mention here lol

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hummingbird24220 · 1 month ago

Note

Hey can I request m!reader flirting with Sanji and him getting flustered about it. Maybe they have conversation about how Sanji doesn't swing that way (maybe it's just denial) but then reader explains to Sanji that the flirting is just how they show their appreciation (just like sanji does for the ladies)

I dont know if you've done a male!reader before feel free to skip if you aren't comfortable with it

Absolutely! First time writing Male!Reader, but hope you like it! Didnt go too heavy on the romance, more of just the appreciation factor. And a bit of Sanji gay panic.

Enjoy ~

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

Like That (Part 1)

Sanji x Male!Reader

The stars twinkled above the Thousand Sunny like scattered sugar across black velvet, and a faint breeze teased at the sails. Sanji stood near the railing, lighting a cigarette, taking a slow drag as he stared out at the ocean. The rest of the crew had gone to bed—well, all but one.

You leaned casually against the railing beside him, arms crossed and a grin already tugging at your lips.

"You always look good with that moody ocean stare," you said with a wink. "Brooding really brings out your jawline."

Sanji choked on the first puff of his cigarette, coughing with wide eyes as he turned sharply toward you. “Wh–what the hell kind of line is that?!”

You laughed softly, clearly enjoying his flustered reaction. “A sincere compliment. You’re welcome.”

His eyes narrowed, and he looked away, the tip of his cigarette glowing a little too brightly from the nervous drag. “…You know I’m not into guys, right?” he muttered, as if needing to remind himself as much as you.

You raised a brow and leaned a little closer. “Did I say you were?” You gave him a sly grin. “I just said you looked good. You do. You should accept compliments better, cook-san.”

He huffed, shoulders tense. “Tch. You flirt with me all the time. It’s not fair—how the hell am I supposed to respond to that?!”

You tilted your head thoughtfully. “Well, how do the girls respond when you flirt with them?”

“That’s different!” Sanji snapped. “I do it because—because I love them!”

You gave him a long look, half amused, half gentle. “Nah, you do it because that’s your way of showing appreciation. It's how you express yourself, right? You see something beautiful, you say it. You cook for people, you praise them, you fuss over them.”

He looked like he wanted to argue—but couldn’t.

“So, let me ask you this,” you continued. “When I flirt with you, why’s it gotta mean something romantic? Can’t I just think you’re amazing and want to tell you in my own way?”

Sanji blinked. “…So you don’t mean anything by it?”

“I mean it,” you said, smiling. “I think you’re talented, kind, strong, and hot as hell. But if you’re asking whether I’m trying to steal your heart in the dead of night—nah. Unless you want me to.”

The cigarette nearly slipped from his fingers.

You turned away and gave him a playful salute. “Goodnight, Sanji.”

As you walked off, Sanji stood frozen at the railing, face redder than his lighter’s flame.

“…The hell’s that supposed to mean…?” he muttered to himself, flustered and definitely not thinking about the way your eyes lingered when you smiled at him.

--------

The next morning was weird. For Sanji, at least.

He wasn’t acting strange enough for anyone else to notice—his routine was the same. Wake up early, prep breakfast, swoon over Nami-swan and Robin-chwan, and tell Luffy to wait for the damn food like a civilized human.

But internally? Man was going through it.

He kept catching himself wondering where you were. Then, the second you walked into the kitchen—yawning, hair messy, shirt a little loose—Sanji nearly dropped the pan.

"Morning, sunshine," you said with a smirk, stretching. “Breakfast smells amazing. But I’m guessing that’s just because you’re in here.”

Sanji’s spatula clattered to the counter.

He spun around, flustered. “Would you stop doing that?!”

You just blinked innocently. “Doing what?”

“You know what!” he hissed, cheeks red. “You can’t just say stuff like that—to me! I’m not—I mean, I don’t swing that way.”

You leaned against the counter next to him, close enough that he could smell the sea salt still clinging to your skin. “You said that yesterday. Still sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.”

His jaw tightened. “I’m not! I like women. Always have.”

You didn’t push. You just gave a little nod, then glanced toward the stove. “I like people. But I flirt with you 'cause you’re worth flirting with. Simple as that.”

“…Why me?” he muttered.

You looked back at him, this time a little softer. “Because when you care about someone, you show it. You cook for them, you fuss over their wounds, you throw yourself into battle to protect them. You don’t hide that you care. That’s rare. And… kinda sexy, if I’m being honest.”

Sanji’s heart practically karate-chopped the inside of his ribs.

“I don’t say it to mess with you,” you added, reaching out to gently nudge his shoulder. “Just my way of saying thanks—for being you. That cool?”

He stared at you for a moment. Then nodded.

“…Y-Yeah. I guess.”

You gave him a wink. “Then I’ll keep doing it.”

Sanji turned away too quickly, muttering something about “stirring the damn soup” as if that would hide the rising color in his face.

He didn’t notice how long he stood there smiling to himself.

#sanji #male reader #x reader #sanji x reader #one piece #reader insert

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masoncantthinkofaname · 2 months ago

Note

Hello Mason! How are you doing? I absolutely loved your answer to my last ask. I can’t help but feel like a wide-eyed child hoping to hear more from you! If you’re comfortable in sharing, could we have a story-time from your twilight shifting? I was re reading the book today and couldn’t keep you out of my mind!

Hi! Oh my, it's literally been ages since I shifted there. Luckily enough I wrote my experience down in my notes when I did, so most of the recalling will be based on what I wrote down and the things I remember!

For a little backstory. It was not my intention to 'seriously' shift to Twilight. I lost a dare to my best friend, and she likes daring me to shift to random places. So she told me that I had to go to Twilight, where I had to replace Bella, and Daeron had to replace Edward. The plot had to stay somewhat similar to the books, but obviously with us being two completely different people, it was fine for it to lead into a different direction (which it did).

I also shifted there before I actively started shifting with the exact same version of my husband. I did 'meet' him multiple times already, but he was very patient and let me decide on it myself. In that period in most cases whenever I shifted somewhere, Daeron in that place didn't know that I shifted there.

Reading through my notes I'm also just realising how unhinged I was while writing this, so prepare for a ride!

The storytime:

I won't go into detail on everything I experienced, as this post would be extremely long. But I was listening to a Noah Kahan song when I first shifted, and I was still in the plane. I remember feeling happy about scripting Hozier and Noah Kahan's music in.

My dynamic with my dad, Charlie, was a bit less awkward than the one he had with Bella. I feel like my personality helped to give a bit more flow to it. I can be a yapper, whereas he's more of a listener, and happy that he doesn't have to say anything.

But after meeting up with him he gave me the most awkward shoulder pat ever and we were just standing there like 😃

I wrote down the dates as much as I remembered as well, but I'm not gonna add them to this post.

Over the next like 10 messages I wrote down;

''Bella is so valid for loving the truck cause I do too girly''

and then I complained about hating school and especially anything math related.

Me being a man, even if I look like the biggest bottom ever, got more female attention than male attention, mainly at the first few days. And despite me not planning to share it this quickly, people learned that I'm gay quite quickly. Specifically, I wrote down;

''During lunch that first day Jessica asked me what my type is in girls, so I was like ''Men 🧍‍♂️'' ''

I also wrote down that, Mike absolutely is the type of guy to think I'm into him. And that he tried to make it extremely obvious that he's straight, especially after he learned that I'm gay.

The next like 20 messages basically include me simping for Daeron, describing how beautiful the Cullens looked, how I made eye contact with Daeron and felt equally embarrassed and giddy about it, and me wondering how anyone believes that he's a high schooler.

Daeron's self control seemed, at least a little, better than Edward's. But it was still very obvious that he was struggling during Biology, and although outwardly he didn't show it that much, I can only imagine how much he was struggling on the inside.

It was a little sad to see him look at me more neutrally/passively, considering I'm so used to this man softening up around me a lot. It hurt a little knowing that, in that moment I wasn't anything special to him yet.

But I still tried to be assertive, and start a conversation, because unlike Bella I wasn't going to let that chance slide. So I told Daeron I love his hair (because really who wouldn't love that luscious hair of his)

''and for some reason a little tension just left his body as he laughed, and thanked me we made a little small talk but he was very careful with his words, and because I actually knew why he was struggling I also tried not to push him but regardless of that there was no denying that we got along''

My biasness shone through when I was writing about meeting Jacob later that day. And I wrote down;

''I'm so sorry, but like next to Daeron and his hair you look kinda pathetic HSHSHSHSH''

I guess I can't blame him because he was only 15 at that point, and aside from that he wasn't a bad guy. During my time in Twilight I didn't get to see Jacob that much, because I only stayed for a couple of weeks.

Let's all thank past Mason for being helpful like always with my notes;

''the next few days Daeron wasn't at school, which was sad I don't care to remember much from that time no Daeron = no memory''

Okay I think I'm going to cut it soon, I'm not even halfway through my notes. But let's discuss the car accident first.

When Daeron came back to school he was nice to me, smiled at me in the hall, and we had some small talk during Biology.

During one class I had asked him some stuff about the homework they had before I came to school, and after school he came up to me when I was at my car, mentioning something about it. Which is when the accident happened.

''I really thought I was gonna throw up my heart''

Daeron saved me, of course, and I saw everything happen. Apparently I was very proud of being better than Bella, because I didn't hit my head unlike her, and although an ambulance was called, Tyler was in a much worse state than I was, and in the end, because Daeron's dad worked at the hospital, he said he would drive me. Which like, you wish, Bella.

I also wrote down a little rant about how cold he actually is.

Also, when I was in the car with Daeron, there was a lot of tension between us, as obviously he knew what I saw, and he couldn't make any excuses about it, and I already knew he was a vampire, even though I pretended not to know. So I decided to be a good future husband, and I told him that, although I don't know how he did that, I trust him, and I won't ask about it. Which visibly relaxed him a little, and we went back to talking about everything and nothing afterwards.

And this is where I'll leave it for now, I might make another part if anyone is interested. I'm sorry I'm not super detailed with this, it's a long time ago, so I'm relying a lot on my notes, and my notes are really long. So it would've been a whole fanfic if I tried to write it down in even more detail.

Thank you for reading!💚

#shiftblr #reality shifting #shifting #shifting motivation #shifting realities #shifting community #shifting stories #shifting blog

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turn-my-hollow-purple · 6 months ago

Text

What Clique Stereotype Each AOT Character Is

this is in honor of the fact that the only thing on my mind right now is GENUINELY gothkasa like omfg I need her so bad it's not even funny you guys PLUH EASEEEE-

Eren: you're surprised he's actually passing his classes because he never turns in work, etc. (thanks to Armin and Mikasa); all the girls like him but he just exist you guys.. I will not fall into the Eren frat boy agenda I swear... (I want to so bad) but yeah he kinda bullies other kids and says "no it's just a joke, trust"

Armin: chess club captain! y'all knew this was coming I'm afraid but he's a cutie pie... obviously a brainiac... maybe a band kid too (positive)

Mikasa: she is a part of the alt kids, falling into the goth subculture! goth music, dark clothes, gloomy vibes, and boy oh boy does she pull it off

Jean: he's like... how do I put this... he's the kid who's quarterback on the football team and the lead in the school musical. A man who can do both dare I say

Connie: CLASS CLOWN! But not the kind that thinks he's better than anyone, people actually enjoy Connie's humor. Occasional spit ball at the teacher though... he frequents detention

Sasha: she is the 'leaves class early and shows up to class late' stereotype... except it's not intentional. And when she is in class? She's asleep.

Annie: she's also in the alt scene with Miksasa, but she fits into the grunge, skater kid scene. This means dark clothes as well, but she's got her skateboard, a vape, eyeliner, and emo music (I'm projecting slightly)

Bertholdt: he's giving class vice-president... he's a little goody-two shoes but not popular enough to be the actual class president. People enjoy him though because he's a sweetie

Reiner: That one kid you swear you've never seen without headphones on like are they permanently in your ears or something bitch hello? He's also a band kid (derogatory)

Ymir: she is also a part of the alt scene but she is 100% the queer stoner girl (also drug dealer lmfao); she dresses more boho vibes but always has some form of weed on her and she is your plug... also lowkey an art kid

Historia: my darling theatre kid. She's the lead in all the plays, musicals, performances, etc. She's really talented and pretty and everyone loves her so much. She probably gets homecoming queen

Levi: that one literature teacher that never seems to give 100% no matter how well the work is done... will blatantly tell a student that they're wrong instead of the classic 'oh that's a good try... not exactly what I was looking for though', it's just straight up 'no that's wrong.'

Erwin: this is the male history teacher who everyone's kind of in love with just because he's so attractive and lowkey so fun to learn from, but you also speculate might be kinda gay? He gets super into his lectures and his students love how interactive he is

Hange: OKAY SO- they're the science teacher who lowkey doesn't know wtf is happening but goes with it anyway... sometimes the students have to teach them what they're supposed to be doing and if you're in their class, there's a good chance you're fearing for your life at some point during lecture

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charliegyrth · 7 days ago

Text

Chicken Shack Fatties

My Coworker's Weight Gain Journey

Hi, everybody! I wrote this in response to another anonymous story request. Great idea, my friend. I had a lot of fun writing this one.

***

“Have a wonderful day!” Clive told the customer, giving her that movie-star smile that melted the hearts of anyone who didn’t know him personally. As soon as she was out of earshot, he mumbled, “Bitch.”

I rolled my eyes. I’d been working alongside Clive for three months now, and his definition of a “bitch” was laughably broad.

Someone who asks for extra barbecue sauce? “Bitch.”

Someone who takes their time looking at the menu. “Bitch.”

Someone who doesn’t say hello before they order. “Bitch.”

Pretty much the only customers that Clive didn’t put in the “bitch” category were the fawning college girls and gay men who checked him out and complimented his gorgeous face or bulging pecs.

Clive Durant was the single meanest human being I’d ever met, treating everyone with disdain or annoyance unless he could get something from them. I genuinely hated him. Not because he was rude to me when we were working together (I could handle that), but because he had every reason to be happy and he wasn’t. If I looked like that, I’d wouldn’t be walking around with a massive chip on my muscular shoulder.

Clive nudged me in the side. “Look who’s here. Get the fryers ready.”

I didn’t need to glance at the door to know exactly who he was talking about. Monty was waddling in for his regular order of five boneless combos with Pepsi and extra salt on his fries. Monty came in every day and was nothing but pleasant, even though Clive insulted him to his face every time.

He was wearing a tank top today, so the edges of his moobs were visible. He was one of those obese guys who did nothing to hide his size. I loved that.

As a very short, very skinny twink myself, I really had a thing for people like Monty. He wasn’t just fat; he was proudly fat, and that was a major turn-on for me. Sure, most people would go for a muscle stud like Clive (and I’d be into that too if he weren’t such a toxic person), but my preference was for someone big and soft and (most importantly) happy.

He reached the counter, his belly pressed against the edge. He was sweaty and red-faced from the walk across the parking lot, but he wore a huge smile. I was manning the fryer in anticipation of his order, leaving Clive to talk to him.

“What can I get you, sir?” he asked dismissively. “You know we’ve added salads to the menu.”

That was a lie. Custer’s Chicken Shack would never offer salads. He just wanted to be rude.

“Actually, I’ll just have my usual.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?” Clive asked with a mean, little smile. He’d taken this guy’s order dozens of times before. It never changed.

“Combo C. Five of them. Extra salt on the fries, please.”

Clive types in the order. “Oh. You’re having a party?”

“Nope. All for me,” Monty said, completely ignoring the veiled insult. “Oh, and a vanilla milkshake. Large.”

“You’re adding to your order?” Clive asked. “Don’t you think the combos are enough?”

The fry scooper dropped out of my hands. I couldn’t believe Clive said that. This was even worse than usual. Our boss had chosen to let Clive man the counter while I worked the kitchen because he thought Clive’s good looks would draw in more customers. (And they did.) But if he knew the things Clive said…

If I were a stronger person, I’d go straight to our boss and tell him everything. I wasn’t that kind of person, though. I didn’t make ripples, even if I really should. I always told myself that eventually word would get back to management and Clive would be sacked, but that hadn’t happened yet.

I searched Monty’s face for any signs that he’d been offended, but he was still smiling. I couldn’t tell for sure, but I suspected that Monty was one of those fat guys who got off on humiliation. He might actually like Clive’s snide comments, but that didn’t excuse Clive’s behavior.

“Actually,” the fat man said, “the milkshake is for my boyfriend. I wanna surprise him.”

Clive’s dark eyes widened. “You have a boyfriend?”

“Oh. Right. Actually, I guess I don’t anymore.”

That answer elicited a relieved sigh from Clive, who seemed to take personal offense that someone so fat would have a boyfriend while he was still single.

But then Monty raised his hand and showed off the gold band on his chubby finger. “I shoulda said fiancé.”

That made my heart speed up. Good for him. He deserved it. “Congratulations!” I shouted from the kitchen, revealing that I’d been eavesdropping the whole time.

“Uh, yeah. Congratulations,” Clive mumbled as he printed out the receipt.

Monty sat at a table and waited. With no other customers, Clive was supposed to join me in the kitchen to help finish the order. He didn’t. He charged past me, mumbled something about a “smoke break,” and went through the back door into the parking lot. That wasn’t like him. I’d never seen him this upset.

I fixed up Monty’s order and brought it to his table. He looked up at me, smiling as always. “You, um, gave me an extra milkshake.”

“To congratulate you on the engagement. On the house. Would you like help carrying everything back to your car?” I did that whenever he came here during slow hours.

“Thanks, man.”

He carried the two milkshakes while I carried everything else. As we walked across the parking lot (very slowly), he looked over at me, studying my expression. I think he noticed that I kept glancing at his wobbling gut. “Thanks again. I really hope Jason finishes both the milkshakes.” (Jason must’ve been his fiancé.) “He has a long way to catch up, you know?”

I didn’t know what to say. Monty had just confirmed my suspicions. He definitely was a gainer. And Jason must’ve been, too. Good for them. They seemed like a wonderful couple.

Monty opened the door and I laid out the food and drinks on the empty seat. His minivan was absolutely filled with fast-food trash bags. A lot of them were from Custer’s Chicken, but he also had empty bags from Arby’s and McDonalds and a couple other places.

As I closed the door, I told him, “Listen. I’m sorry about my coworker in there. He’s…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve always liked those kinds of comments.” (Another suspicion confirmed.) “Plus, I kinda feel sorry for him. He’s just so unhappy all the time.”

“Yeah.” There was nothing else to say. I waved goodbye and hurried back to the restaurant. It looked like another customer had walked in. Before I entered, I noticed Clive standing by himself next to the dumpsters. He was deep in thought, sucking on his vape. He looked miserable.

***

I served three customers before Clive came back in from his smoke break. He saw me pulling double-duty (running from the register to the kitchen), but he didn’t spring into action. He just stood off to the side and watched me.

“Some help?” I asked him.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he mumbled before rushing to the assembly counter. That was the first time he’d ever apologized to me.

The rest of our shift was pretty normal. We had slow times and busy times. Pretty basic. The only difference was that Clive stayed weirdly silent for the rest of the day. He didn’t call anyone a “bitch.” He didn’t make any snide comments at all. He just did his job and kept his face blank.

As we were closing up, I asked him directly, “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing.”

I knew I shouldn’t push the issue. Sullen Clive was so much easier to work with than Mean Clive. But I didn’t want anyone to feel sad, not even a dick like Clive. “I can tell something’s wrong. You can talk to me.”

He looked away.

“Listen. You don’t know this, but whenever we work together, I sort of keep a tally of all the times you call someone a ‘bitch’ behind their back. The final number is always in the double-digits. Today, you said it twice. You’ve been acting different since Monty came in.”

“Who?” He looked me in the eyes. Finally. “Oh, the fat guy. Yeah, um, I guess I was just surprised.”

“That he’s engaged?”

“Yeah. I mean, how am I still single while someone like that…?” He didn’t finish his sentence.

“Can I be honest?”

“Please.”

“Monty’s a nice guy. He’s friendly. And you’re…”

“I’m what?”

“You’re a dick. To everyone. You know that, right?”

He didn’t seem offended. He knew how he acted. “Sure, but I’m so hot.”

“I think Monty’s pretty hot,” I admitted. I didn’t tell many people about my attraction to bigger guys, and I never would’ve thought that I’d tell Clive about it. Yet, here we were.

He looked at me like I’d just sprouted a third eye.

In very simple terms, I explained the basics of gainers, encouragers, feederism, all that. (If you’re reading this story, I assume you already know all that stuff.) I even pulled out my Grommr account (mostly inactive lately) and showed him photos of some of my gainer friends who I knew wouldn’t mind being used as examples.

“People like this?” He looked so confused.

“Yeah, but you’re missing the point. People like all different types, but something everyone likes is kindness. Whether you’re super-hot or super-sized, no one’ll want to date you if you’re always so mean all the time. That’s the point.”

He stared at the image on my phone for a long time, sorting through his thoughts. Finally, he said, “You’ve given me a lot to think about. Thanks, man.”

I doubted that I’d said anything to change his ways, but we’ll see. Only time will tell.

***

Two months later.

“Bitches,” Clive muttered as a family of four walked out of the restaurant.

“Seriously?”

He turned to me and smiled, showing off his dimples. I’d never noticed those before. “Couldn’t they see that we’re closing? They could’ve hurried the fuck up.”

We still had five more minutes till closing, but since no other customers were here, I started to clean up. Clive grabbed the last three chicken nuggets from the tray and popped them into his mouth one-by-one. Then he just stood there, watching me do all the work. “So? You haven’t said anything about how much I’ve changed since our little talk.”

Our little talk. I didn’t know what he meant. “You mean about the new milkshake settings?”

He punched me in the shoulder. I hated when he did that. “You don’t remember? Two months ago? After that big fat guy Marty told us he was engaged.”

“You mean Monty,” I said. I hadn’t thought about that conversation in weeks, because it obviously hadn’t affected him. Clive was just as mean as always. He still called everyone a bitch. He still insulted customers to their faces. (Monty had stopped coming about a month ago because he was busy planning for his wedding, but we still had plenty of other regulars for Clive to demean.) At the time, it felt like a genuine heart-to-heart, but as expected, nothing came of it.

He looked into my eyes, waiting for me to say something. “What are you getting at, Clive?”

“I’m still waiting for you to congratulate me!” he said, his deep voice coming out childish and petulant. “Everyone else does.”

“Congratulate you for what?”

“Jesus. For this!” He pulled up his red work shirt, showing me his belly.

I gulped. He had a belly. An actual belly. It wasn’t big, but it was definitely there, bulging out of him and hanging just a tiny bit over his belt. Clive’s perfect body was gone.

“You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed,” he said, acting like he’d gained 100 pounds or something. He let go of his shirt.

“Honestly, I hadn’t.”

In a way, it was shocking that I hadn’t. I loved watching ex-jocks soften up. I loved beginner bellies. And his gain (over 20 pounds, for sure) was definitely noticeable through his shirt. His face looked rounder. His work pants were tighter, too.

If he’d been gaining for the last two months, then I should’ve been in a constant state of horniness whenever I was at work. But I wasn’t. I had no idea.

I think that was because I disliked the guy so much. My brain couldn’t register his (very cute) new belly because I didn’t see him as a sexual object. I saw him as a jerk, plain and simple.

“Well?” he asked, still waiting for a compliment. “I did what you suggested. What do you think?”

“That wasn’t my suggestion. My suggestion was for you to start being nicer to people. I was only explaining the gainer culture so you’d understand Monty and stop treating him like a freak who didn’t deserve love.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he said. “I thought about the nice thing, but that seemed like too much work. Then I went on Grommr, like you told me to…” (I didn’t.) “Just to see what would happen. Posted a bunch of shirtless photos showing off my abs, wrote that I was a gainer, and literally hundreds of horny fucks said they were interested. Dry spell over!”

“So are you a gainer?” I asked. “Is that what you’re really into?”

“Sure,” he said. “It’s easier than going to the gym all the time. And this little guy…” He squeezed his belly. “Is a total dick magnet, man.”

This gave me some seriously mixed emotions. It sucked that Clive had misinterpreted my advice so completely, but at the same time, his extra padding was really sexy. I’d love to see him keep going.

“So are you happier now?”

He poured himself a milkshake, even though we were supposed to be emptying the machine. “Hell yeah. I have guys come over all the time.”

“Any boyfriend prospects?” I asked. I thought that he’d wanted an actual relationship. I thought that had been the main source of his frustrations.

“In time,” he said. “I have too many guys to choose from now.”

I closed out the register and started mopping the floor while Clive took his time slurping up his milkshake. He dripped a little onto the floor, then pointed at the milky puddle. “You missed a spot.”

***

Three months later.

I got out of my car and headed toward the restaurant. I didn’t have to come in to work today, but my boss Arvin asked if I could pop in for a one-on-one meeting. I didn’t know if this was a good meeting or a bad meeting. I busted my ass off for the company, but I never seemed to get any recognition for it. I really hoped that things were about to change, but if not, if I was about to get blamed for low sales or something, then I was prepared to quit.

When I reached the back entrance, I saw Clive sitting on the steps, his head in his hands. His gut filled his lap, big and soft and bunched into three rolls. I’d seen him the day before, so I knew how big he’d gotten, but this position really accentuated how soft he was. A few of my gainer friends were about his size (230-ish?), but they were good people, so I found their bellies much sexier.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I just got fired,” he said.

My heart pounded. Did that mean I was getting fired, too? Were they cleaning house?

I sat next to him on the steps, partly to comfort him but mostly to get more information before I met with Arvin. “What happened?”

“I fucked up,” he mumbled through his hands.

Couldn’t argue with that. He’d always been a terrible worker, leaving me to pick up the slack. But with his added weight, he’d gotten even lazier. He barely did anything besides work the register and insult the customers. Worse, he’d started stealing food from the kitchen, a little more each week, to the point where we were constantly running out of fries and milkshake mix.

I didn’t know what to say, so I awkwardly patted his shoulder, acting like we were friends.

“I got away with so much stuff because I was hot,” he said. “But now I’m not, and I…” He started crying. “I never should’ve gotten fat.”

Once again, he needed some straight-talk. “You didn’t get fired because you’re fat. You know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you like being a gainer?” I asked. I still couldn’t tell.

He looked up at me, his eyes red and wet. “I like the attention. But I still don’t have a boyfriend. I chat with dozens of guys. They come over to fuck me or feed me or whatever, but none of them want a relationship. Just hook-ups. I’m in the exact same situation as when I was hot, except now I can’t coast on my looks at work, and I… I don’t know.”

Once again, he was misinterpreting things. I knew that plenty of guys on Grommr were interested in more than just hook-ups. The problem was Clive. He was the reason guys met him once and then ghosted him. His body had changed so much, but his attitude was still toxic. The only difference between Old Clive and New Clive was his BMI.

He grabbed his belly roll and squeezed it in anger. “I hate this. I never shoulda…” He was focusing his anger on his body, but when that didn’t work, he looked into my eyes and directed his anger at me. “I never shoulda listened to you!”

“Dammit, Clive. Nothing is your fault, huh?” I was done talking to him. I stood up and marched toward the door. I turned to look at him one last time, a fat, sad lump on the steps. “Have a good life, man.”

Then I pushed my way inside.

Arvin was waiting for me in his office. He stood up when I entered (something he’d never done before) and shook my hand.

I made sure to grip his hand tight. When he hired me two years ago, I could tell that he judged me for my overall twinkness, I guess. I was pretty small and my voice was high, and he didn’t really like that. (When he’d hired Clive, also gay but much more masculine, he acted different. He said Clive was “commanding” and had “management potential,” two things that he never said to me.)

So yeah, I gave him the hearty handshake he wanted and I puffed my chest a little as I sat across from him. “You wanted to see me?”

The rest of the meeting went so much better than I expected. Arvin explained how Clive had gotten some complaints (lots of them) and how he’d become aware that I was the one doing all the work. More importantly, I was always kind to the customers.

I felt so damn vindicated.

I knew that if Clive had remained ripped and hot, a lot less people would’ve complained about him. That’s just the way of the world. But since he wasn’t conventionally attractive anymore, people stopped tolerating his terrible attitude. The result was that he was gone and I could finally be acknowledged for my hard work.

Arvin offered me a raise and a promotion, which meant I’d be managing all three Custer’s Chicken locations in the city. I’d even get to hire Clive’s replacement. This was a dream come true for me. I didn’t feel guilty that my success had come at the expense of Clive’s job. Screw that guy. I’d earned this.

“So? Will you accept?”

“Absolutely.”

***

Eighteen months later.

“Have a nice day!” I called to the chubby couple walking out of the restaurant.

They smiled and waved. What a cute couple.

It felt pretty nice to be behind the counter at my old Custer’s Chicken Shack. Since becoming regional manager, I spent a lot more time at my office in our downtown location. I loved my work, but it felt nice to be back where it all started, dealing with customers face-to-face.

Early in the day, I even got to see Monty and his husband again. They looked so happy. Monty had lost a bit of weight, but Jason (his husband) had gained more than enough for both of them. I gave them complementary milkshakes (one of the perks of being manager), and they promised to pay me back with drinks at the next Bear Night at Rammer’s.

I told them I’d see them there. (I was single again and needed to put myself out there more.)

The restaurant was pretty slow for a while, until another customer walked in. I gulped. This was the single, most handsome man I’d ever seen. Hugely overweight, with a thick beard and buzzed hair. His legs were tree trunks, shifting against each other as he waddled toward me. His hanging gut and glorious moobs were in a constant state of movement. Just pure, wonderful softness.

Best of all, he had the biggest smile on his round face. Just one look at him and I knew that this guy was happy with himself and proud of his size.

When he reached me, he had to steady himself against the counter, leaning forward so that his chest flopped onto its surface. “Hey,” he said.

“Hello,” I said back, trying (and failing) to hide my raw attraction. Guys like this were the reason I’d chosen a career in fast food. My God. “What can I get you?”

He looked at me for a while. His smile turned into a smirk. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”

“Sorry,” I muttered. I tried to place his face, flipping through my mental rolodex of regular customers, then bar acquaintences, then online Grommr friends. Nope. I didn’t recognize him.

“Maybe this’ll help,” he said. He forced his expression to harden into a superior, annoyed sneer. That’s when I recognized him.

“Clive?!”

He smiled again. “How’s it going, man? You look exactly the same.”

I did. Still a skinny twink, though my hair was going prematurely gray around the temples, just like my dad. “And you look…”

“Fat?” he asked.

“No. You look nice.”

I know it sounds crazy, but the reason I didn’t recognize him wasn’t because of the hundred-plus pounds that he’d packed onto his body. Plenty of my friends had gone through similar transformations, and I always knew who they were.

No, I didn’t recognize Clive because his whole aura was different. He didn’t look like a jerk anymore. He didn’t act like he was above everyone. He didn’t have that look of constant judgment on his face. He was comfortable with himself, and most of all, he was happy.

And for the first time, I found my former coworker very, very attractive.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

He laughed. “After I got fired, I went on a wellness retreat, planning to lose all the weight. But while I was there, surrounded by other broken people, I realized that my problem was my outlook, not my size. I finally learned the lesson that you’d been trying to teach me all those times. Sorry it didn’t sink in sooner.”

“Good for you,” I said, staring into his warm, friendly eyes.

“I came back here, got an office job, and have been sorting myself out ever since.”

“And actively gaining,” I said. He’d deleted his Grommr account a while back, so he must’ve distanced himself from the social side, but his body was proof that he’d fully and completely embraced his Gainer Brain.

“Not really,” he said with a laugh. “I know, right? Hard to believe. I’ve learned over the last year to like myself at any size. I just eat when I’m happy, and since I’m always happy…” His voice trailed off.

I glanced around the restaurant to make sure no one else was there. Yup. We were alone.

“So. Are you seeing anyone?”

“No,” he said flirtatiously. “I’m really happy to see you, my friend.”

“Yeah? Prove it. Let’s see how much you can order.”

Ten minutes later (and still no other customers), I sat across from Clive with our table overflowing with chicken burgers, fries, nuggets, pretty much everything we had in the kitchen. He smiled at me. I smiled at him.

We talked. He ate. It was wonderful.

“I’m gonna close up soon.”

“I know,” he said through a mouthful of fries and chicken.

“Would you like to come back to my place afterward?”

He smiled, a dribble of grease on his chins. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The End.

Thanks for reading! And thanks for the suggestion!

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