#duality (lamp)

[payaso-affairs]

So.

I got into Metalocalypse.

An inevitability given that I already like Venture Bros lmao. The Vbros to MLC pipeline is incredibly real. Metalocalypse S1-2 kinda remind me of the Venture Bros pilot but I do genuinely enjoy Metalocalypse

That being said. My intentions were of the selfish sort. As they usually are-

And much like going to the store for groceries, I somehow ended up with more than I planned oh god oh no-

Ah, I got two hands I'll be alright.

[incorrect-worldless-quotes]

Aven: There's only one thing you need to know about Edda.

Lamp: Don't make her angry?

Aven:

Aven: Okay, there's two things you need to know about Edda.

[79zz]

Oswald, The Lucky Rabbit

Yes, I know the storm blot was never used in the final game, but I wanted to do something special for the recent release of Rebrushed, like what I did for the Mickey piece. Enjoy!

[smutoperator]

Snake Charmer

Kim Minjeong (Winter) x Male Reader

Tags: arabian nights, belly bulging, belly dancer, blowjob, creampie, cum on midriff, fast-paced sex, footjob, loud sex, quickie, snake (literally and figuratevelly), stripping

Word count: 3164

It was a cold, lonely night in the desert. Nobody seemed to be in your sight, just an endless horizon full of sand. You were so desperate that you started seeing what looked like a tent playing an electronic beat as if a rave was playing inside it. Surely it must have been a mirage, you thought.

As you entered the tent, you saw a girl performing in an outfit that left her belly very exposed.

The girl dancer performed the electronic song in a way that made her look like those belly dancers coming straight from those Arabian nights tales. Soon, she grabbed a black mamba snake from a basket and started playing with it, showing no fear and handling it like it was just a walk in the park.

The dancer kept playing with the snake as she continued her performance, her cuteness contrasting with the bulky reptile that ran through her body. Her midriff moved in such a sexy manner, meanwhile, her face was all smiles, a truly impressive duality that had you slowly falling in love with her.

The music stopped and the dancer finished her performance, immediately turning in your direction as she pushed the snake back into the basket. "Looks like I have an audience for today," she said. "That's quite rare here in the middle of the desert," she continued.

"Do you perform this dance every day?" you asked the dancer. "Yes, me and my friends do that every day hoping to charm someone to build a harem with us," she said. "Your friend? So you're not alone in this tent?" you ask her. "No, they had to go to the city, but they'll be back tomorrow morning," she answered.

"By the way, I haven't even asked your name yet," you said to her. "My name is Minjeong, but you can also call me Winter," she answered. "Winter, such a beautiful name," you said to her. "Thank you," she replied.

"Wanna watch me dance a little more?" Winter asked you. "Sure, do your thing," you told her. Winter resumed dancing, bringing the mamba back from the basket and running it all over her body once again. She teased you, making very seductive moves with her tummy that drove you insane, making you wonder how she hadn't found anyone yet to occupy that harem.

Winter shook her cute little ass a bit and then started taking off parts of her bedlah as the performance went on, starting with her top, leaving you shocked as she left her torso fully exposed to you while dancing, from her perky little tits all the way down to her sexy navel. She wrapped the snake around her midriff and then picked up a recipient with the shape of a magical lamp, pouring some oil over her fit body, leaving you in utter disbelief at the scene you were watching.

Winter continued to strip her bedlah off, next taking off her long skirt, leaving just her hip scarf. Soon enough, that was gone as well, leaving Winter wearing just a belly chain and a thong that could barely cover her genitalia, giving you a hand signal to come close to her.

Minjeong walked in your direction, getting her body on top of the couch you were sitting on, the black mamba now wrapped around her shoulders. "Looks like that's not the only snake I can charm," she said, running her hands over your already throbbing cock under your pants.

"Get up," Winter commanded as you two started sharing kisses. You still couldn't believe what was in front of your eyes, maybe it was just another mirage, but her touch felt amazing. She quickly took off your shirt, running her hands over your torso while you worshipped her beautiful midriff. You were much taller than her, meaning her sexy tummy rubbed all over your clothed crotch, building your erection even further and getting you increasingly hard as you two touched each other.

"Let me show you my snake-charming abilities," Winter said, getting on her knees and pulling your pants down, unveiling your already throbbing anaconda. She teased it very slowly, giving a couple of licks to the tip of your cock, which were already driving you insane.

It didn't take long for Minjeong to make faster moves, performing an impressive no-hands blowjob as she slowly put more and more of your length in her mouth, reaching closer to a third of it as she sensually moved her body while sucking your cock, making her belly chain produce a rattling sound that turned you on even further.

Winter deepthroated your cock for the first time. "Such a delicious snake," she said once she finished it, switching from her slow-paced blowjob into a fast-paced one coupled with jerking off of your cock while staring at you with her puppy eyes.

Minjeong spat all over your cock as she continued to suck it off, now moving into the side of your shaft, before licking your tip like she was eating ice cream, then diving down to your balls while stroking that anaconda, switching to a little hand massage on your shaft before moving back to a no-hands cocksucking that she finished with an impeccable deepthroat.

"Oh shit," you groaned as Minjeong's deepthroat sent shivers down your spine. She rubbed her hands on your torso as she kept bobbing her head on your cock, giving special attention to the tip and deepthroating your shaft from time to time, making it wetter and wetter with lots of spitting.

Winter got back up and started kissing you again, the tip of your cock rubbing against her navel as your bodies collided with each other. You reached your hands into her pink pussy for the first time, making her let out some soft moans. "I'll let you do anything with me today, I'm all yours, I want you to join this harem," she said.

"Sit down, you're in for a treat tonight," Winter told you as you lay back on the couch. She quickly dove into your balls, ready to start another round of her soft yet amazing blowjob with her beautiful cute mouth, licking your shaft from top to bottom and then making rounds around the tip.

Winter jerks off your cock. "So big, so nice, can't wait to get this ready for my pussy," she says, licking your tip a little more then bobbing her head up and down it, going slowly deeper into it as she keeps spitting on your cock. "Your dick is so nice and big, I've been waiting to have one of these in my mouth for so long," she says as she moves her tongue around your shaft, before teasing it as she rubs your cock around her navel, getting you to throb even more.

"Oh my God," you groan as Winter circles your cock around. "Do you want to get it in my pussy?" she asks. "Oh fuck, definitely," you answer her as she continues to suck it off.

"Let's get it a little bit harder, shall we?" Winter says as she starts stroking your shaft with her beautiful feet. "Fuck, that's such a good massage," you tell her as she quickly moves her toes around your cock, making your tip pop in and out of your foreskin. "Fuck, that feels so good, just keep going, keep stroking that cock," you tell her, Winter smiling as your cock is throbbing red now.

You thrust into Minjeong's feet, making her very excited. "I want you to do this in my pussy," she says, circling her toes around your cock as you move your hips. She then puts her feet on top of your shaft, massaging them hard and pushing you to the edge, her long nails hitting the most sensitive parts of your tip.

"Oh yeah, it seems like this snake is finally big enough for me to sit on it," Winter proclaims as she lets you take your cock into her pussy, sitting on it in on go and bouncing hard on it. "OH YEAH, OH YEAH, OH SHIT," she moans as you impale her pussy hard. "SO GOOD, SO GOOD, YES, YES, AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHH, OH MY GOD," she screams, pressing her hands on your chest and quickly losing her breath as your big pole shapes the insides of her cunt.

But Winter stays committed, pushing hard even if your cock seems to feel a little too big for her. "AHHH FUCK, I CAN FEEL IT BULGING UNDER MY STOMACH, IT FEELS SO GOOD," Winter says, you two just closing your eyes and enjoying the ride. "YES I LIKE THAT SO MUCH, IT FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD," she continues to moan.

"Oh shit," you groan again as Winter's tight walls squeeze your cock. "You like that tight pussy?" she asks you as she keeps riding your cock, losing her breath as she can feel it right in her tummy. "OH SHIT, YES, LIKE THAT, LIKE THAT," she keeps begging and moaning, fingering her tight pussy and repeatedly opening and closing her legs as she moves all over your cock.

You can't resist and soon start thrusting into Minjeong's tight pink pussy. "OH I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING," she announces as you pump her pussy up. "OH YES BABY, FUCK THAT PUSSY," Winter commands, meeting your thrusts with bounces of her own. "FUCK YOU FEEL SO YUMMY IN MY TUMMY," she moans, feeling your monster bulge once again.

Winter pops your cock out of her pussy and gets herself in a missionary position. "I want you to see you bulging under my stomach, show me how deep your big cock can go inside me," she begs as you grab her left leg up and quickly put your cock back in her pussy. "AHHHHH," she instantly moans, caught by surprise as you attack her cunt at full speed from the start.

"OHHHHH FUCKKKK," Winter moans and grins her teeth as her body bounces hard with your fast thrusts. "You said you wanted it like that, don't complain now," you tell her as you thrust so hard your cock briefly pulls out of her pussy. "Yes, baby, keep going, wreck this tight little pussy," she begs, losing her breath as she speaks.

"AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH, YES, YES, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, HARDER, HARDER," Winter begs as you use her body to your pleasure nonstop, your balls clapping hard against her clit as you deliver her some powerful thrusts. "FUCK BABY, OH MY GOD, FUCK ME HARD, AHHHHHH," she screams, sticking her tongue out like a begging puppy as you keep destroying her little pink pussy.

"OH MY GOD, MAKE ME TAKE IT, YES, YES, YES, POUND ME HARD," Winter pegs, you spreading her legs to the fullest and hitting her pussy at every different angle. "Oh fuck," you groan again before resuming destroying her cunt. "AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," she screams, you teasing her rubbing your shaft in her clit briefly before putting it back inside her.

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Winter screams so loud you're glad you two are in the middle of the desert with no one to hear it, you pushing her legs in the direction of her body and completely dominating me. "THE WAY YOU USE ME IS SO FUCKING GOOD, FUCK" she screams.

"AH YES, FUCKING MAKE ME TAKE IT," Winter screams as you use her pussy so hard you need a little break not to exhaust yourself, diving as you lick her pink hole and tongue her clit hard. "UHHHH YEAH, FUCK, YOU EAT MY PUSSY SO GOOD," she moans as your face gets buried into her entrance, making her legs shake, Minjeong massaging your back while she gets eaten out.

"Spread that asshole for me," you tell Winter, diving next into tonguing her pink anus, giving a couple of licks up into her pussy. "I want you to put your finger in my ass," she begs. You do as she asks, shoving your middle finger up Minjeong's butthole and massaging it.

"Damn it's tighter than your pussy," you tell her. "Yes, I've never been fucked in the ass, but I love the sensation of getting fingered in it, especially with you eating my pussy AHHHHH FUCK," Winter moans as she spreads her legs and lets you please both her holes with your finger and your mouth. "Oh FUCK, IT FEELS LIKE I'M IN HEAVEN," she says as you give her the double stimulation she needs, Winter's flexible body contracting and trembling all over the couch.

Winter gets back on her knees, ready to suck your cock once more. But you have different plans, grabbing her hair and pounding her face as soon as she gets on her knees. "Oh fuck yes," you say, turning Winter's mouth into your free-use fuckhole as you watch her face turn red while your cock bulges under her cute cheeks.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," you groan as you make Winter gag on your cock, not holding back as her face gets plowed. You keep teasing her, slapping your cock in her tummy before going back to make her choke on it. Winter gets back up, hungry for more. "I need it back in my pussy," she begs, lifting one of her legs as she positions herself close to your lap.

Before getting your cock back in Winter's wonderful pussy, you tease it with a little slap in her entrance. Her pussy is so tight you struggle a bit to put it back in, but as soon as you do, you grab her right leg and start thrusting immediately. "OH FUCK," Winter moans as soon as she feels your cock back to shaping her inner walls.

Winter sexily looks in your eye as she wraps one of her hands around your neck, using the other hand to grab a curtain in the room as she tries to cope with your fast thrusts. You reciprocate and grab her neck. "FUCK YES, FUCK THAT LITTLE PUSSY, OH MY GOD I'M GONNA CUM, JUST FUCK ME, JUST FUCK ME PLEASE, I'M GONNA CUM, FUCKKKKK, AHHHHH," she moans loudly as you also finger her pussy.

"OH MY GOD, YES, YES, DON'T STOP," Winter begs as she starts to lose her balance. "AHHHH YES, FUCK, FUCK, OH MY GOD," Winter screams, trying to hold onto your body and the curtain at all costs as she turns into a screaming machine, your cock bulging under her belly more than ever. "OH, OH, OH, OH," she can't stop moaning, her walls taking the shape of your cock at each hard thrust you deliver into her pussy.

"YES, YES, YES, FUCK THAT PUSSY," Winter begs as you massage her clit hard and pushes her legs further upward, fucking her like a man on a mission. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, the more I hit that pussy the tighter it gets," you tell her. "AHHHHH FUCKKKK," she continues to scream.

Winter drops back to the couch as she's so overwhelmed with your poundings she can barely stay on her feet. She positions herself sideways, allowing you to penetrate her pussy in a spooning position. "OH GOD, AHHHHHHH," Winter screams as you quickly go back to clap her cheeks. "OH MY GOD IT'S SO FUCKING BIG," she keeps screaming, you getting crazier and crazier, attacking her pussy like there is no tomorrow and making her lose her breath. "Shit," you groan, still amazed by her pussy's tightness, more so as Winter's cunt starts queefing with your hard thrusts. "That's it, I'm gonna pound that pink pussy until I fucking cum inside it," you tell her.

"Bend over," you command to Winter as she gets on all fours on the couch. "Perfect," you tell her, grabbing her waist as you guide your cock back into her pussy. "Holy shit," you say as her tight hole wraps around your shaft one more time. "FUCK, THAT'S SO BIG," she screams again.

"Bounce on that cock" you tell Winter, letting her move her hips by herself. "Work those hips," you keep telling her as you start giving some slaps to her butt. "Oh yeah slap my ass," she tells you, closing her eyes and moaning as you time your spanking with the movement of her hips, Winter showing you her sexy abilities to move them just like when she was dancing for you moments ago.

"AHHHH FUCK, OH MY GOD YES," Minjeong screams as you grab her hair and spank her ass, she moves her hips the more you spank her, leading you to attempt to tame her with more fast thrusts as Winter keeps getting pounded into oblivion. "OH MY GOD, YOU'RE DESTROYING MY TIGHT LITTLE PUSSY," she screams.

"There you go, that's it, oh fuck," you groan as Winter keeps moving her hips. "OH GODDD," she screams as she works on your cock. "Yes, that's it, fuck, fuck, show me how much you like that big cock, cute little girl," you tell her as Winter switches into longer, deeper moves. "You like that?" she asks you. "Yes, baby, I love it," you answer her.

"Your big cock feels so good stretching my pussy," Winter tells you as she pushes you closer and closer to cumming. "Nice and slow, keep moving like that, I'm gonna cum, oh shit," you tell her. "Then I want you to cum in my yummy tummy," Winter tells you.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," you tell Winter just in time for her to flip herself around, offering you her beautiful belly to get covered in your white seed. "OHHHH SHITTTT," you loudly scream as endless ropes of cum cover Minjeong's midriff, you enjoying the work of art you left as you painted her tummy.

"I'm not done yet," you tell Winter. Your still hard cock finds its way to her pussy one more time. "I'm gonna cover this tight little pussy with cum too," you tell her. "Yes, please, baby, fill me up, AH, AH, AH, AH," Winter begs as you attack her pussy like crazy. "Fuck, Fuck," you groan. "YES, YES, YOU FEEL SO GOOD IN MY TUMMY," she says as your bulging prick pokes under her cum-covered belly.

"Fuck that was quick, I'm gonna cum again," you tell Winter, unleashing a second load in her tight pink pussy. "Holy shit, this was intense," Winter tells you as your cum oozes out of her cunt. "You can sleep here tonight, but make sure my unnies don't see you," she tells you. "Alright," you oblige, Winter indicating a place in the tent where you can hide.

The night passes by and a new day arrives. As you open your eyes, you see Minjeong once again with the snake wrapped around her body, but she's no longer alone. Three more girls surround you. One of them is already jerking your cock off, a tall woman with her big boobs already out in the open, who is also the first to speak.

"Welcome to your harem," she says.

[sh4nksslvt]

Surgeon’s Strategy

Law explains a battle plan, his hand brushing yours as he leans close, his smirk carrying a dangerously playful edge.

Law x reader | ONE SHOT tags: fluff, sfw, teasing a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe n akward word count: 1.8k masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The Polar Tang’s map room was a sanctuary of sorts, a quiet corner of the submarine where the hum of machinery faded into a distant murmur, and the world outside seemed to pause. The walls were lined with charts and maps, some pinned haphazardly, others meticulously organized, reflecting the duality of Trafalgar Law’s mind—chaotic genius wrapped in calculated precision. A single overhead lamp cast a warm, amber glow over the large wooden table at the center, strewn with papers, compasses, and a half-empty mug of coffee that smelled faintly of roasted beans. You stood there, leaning over the table, studying a map of the next island on the Heart Pirates’ route, your fingers tracing the coastline as you tried to make sense of the scribbled notes in Law’s angular handwriting.

“You’re holding it upside down,” came a low, amused voice from behind you.

You froze, glancing over your shoulder to find Law leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed, his signature spotted hat tilted slightly to one side. His golden eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and something else—something that made your pulse quicken. He was dressed in his usual polo shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the inked patterns on his forearms, and his sword, Kikoku, rested against the wall nearby, a silent reminder of his ever-present vigilance.

“I am not,” you retorted, though you quickly double-checked the map, heat creeping up your neck when you realized he was right. You flipped it with a huff, avoiding his gaze. “Maybe your handwriting is just terrible.”

Law’s lips curved into a smirk as he pushed off the doorframe and sauntered toward you, his boots clicking softly against the metal floor. “My handwriting is impeccable,” he said, stopping just beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. “You’re just distracted.”

“Distracted?” You raised an eyebrow, turning to face him, your hands planted on your hips. “By what, exactly?”

His smirk widened, and he leaned forward slightly, resting one hand on the table next to yours. “You tell me,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, teasing drawl. “You’ve been staring at that map for ten minutes, and I’m pretty sure you haven’t read a single word.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words caught in your throat as his hand brushed against yours, a fleeting touch that sent a jolt through you. It was deliberate, you were sure of it—Law never did anything by accident. His fingers lingered just long enough to make your skin tingle before he pulled back, picking up a pencil to annotate the map.

“Let’s focus,” he said, though the playful edge in his tone betrayed his attempt at seriousness. “We’re docking at this island tomorrow, and I need you to understand the plan.”

You nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was still racing. “Right. The plan. Go ahead, Captain, enlighten me.”

Law shot you a sidelong glance, his eyes narrowing slightly at the playful lilt in your voice. “Don’t get cheeky,” he warned, but there was no real heat in his words. He tapped the map with the pencil, pointing to a cluster of buildings marked near the island’s port. “This is the main town. Intel says there’s a Marine outpost here, small but well-guarded. We need supplies, so we’re avoiding direct confrontation.”

You leaned closer, your shoulder brushing against his as you studied the map. “So, stealth mission?” you asked, tilting your head to look at him. His face was close—too close—and you could see the faint stubble along his jaw, the way his eyes flicked briefly to your lips before returning to the map.

“Exactly,” he said, his voice steady despite the tension crackling between you. “You’ll be with me, scouting the market for medical supplies while the others handle food and ship repairs.”

“Me?” You blinked, surprised. “You usually take Bepo for scouting.”

Law’s lips twitched, almost a smile. “Bepo’s great, but he’s not exactly subtle. You, on the other hand…” He paused, his gaze sweeping over you, lingering just a moment too long. “You blend in. Plus, I trust you to keep up.”

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, though you tried to play it cool. “High praise from the Surgeon of Death,” you teased, nudging his arm lightly. “Careful, you might make me think you like me.”

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that did nothing to calm your nerves. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he said, but his hand brushed yours again as he reached for a marker, and this time, his fingers lingered, curling slightly around yours before he pulled away. “Pay attention.”

You tried—really, you did—but Law’s presence was distracting. He explained the layout of the town, pointing out entry points, escape routes, and potential hazards, his voice calm and authoritative. But every time his arm brushed against yours or his fingers grazed the back of your hand as he adjusted the map, your focus wavered. He was doing it on purpose, you were certain, and the smug little smirk playing at the corners of his mouth only confirmed it.

“—and if we get separated,” he was saying, “you head to this rendezvous point.” He tapped a spot on the map, then glanced at you, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not listening.”

“I’m listening!” you protested, crossing your arms. “Rendezvous point, got it.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Repeat it back to me.”

You hesitated, racking your brain for the details you’d only half-absorbed. “Uh… head to the… north side of the town square?”

Law sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Wrong. It’s the old lighthouse on the eastern cliffs.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “If you get lost, I’m not coming to find you.”

“Liar,” you shot back, grinning. “You’d tear the island apart looking for me.”

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the playful banter faded, replaced by something heavier, more intense. “Maybe,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But let’s not test that theory.”

Your breath caught, and the air between you seemed to thicken. Law was close now, his hand resting on the table just inches from yours, his body angled toward you. The map room felt smaller, the walls closing in as the tension grew. You could smell the faint scent of antiseptic and sea salt on him, a combination that was uniquely Law, and it made your head spin.

“Law,” you said, your voice quieter now, “are you trying to distract me?”

He tilted his head, his smirk returning, though there was a heat in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “If I were trying to distract you,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you’d know it.”

“Oh, really?” you challenged, stepping closer, your chest almost brushing against his. “Because it feels like you’re doing a pretty good job right now.”

His smirk faltered for a split second, replaced by a flicker of surprise, but he recovered quickly, leaning in until his face was mere inches from yours. “Careful,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

Your heart was pounding now, but you refused to back down. “Maybe I like dangerous,” you whispered, your eyes locked on his.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the tension between you taut like a drawn bowstring. Then, slowly, deliberately, Law reached out, his fingers brushing along your jaw, tilting your chin up slightly. His touch was light, almost tentative, but it sent a wave of heat through you, making your breath hitch.

“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice rougher now, laced with something that sounded almost like affection. “You know that?”

“You’re one to talk,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re the one who keeps touching me.”

His thumb grazed your lower lip, and his eyes darkened, his smirk replaced by something more intense. “You’re not complaining,” he pointed out, his voice low and husky.

“Maybe I’m just being polite,” you teased, though your voice trembled slightly, betraying the effect he was having on you.

Law chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Polite, huh?” He leaned closer, his lips hovering just above yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath. “You don’t strike me as the polite type.”

Before you could respond, a loud clang echoed from somewhere in the submarine, followed by the unmistakable sound of Penguin and Shachi arguing over who broke what. Law’s hand dropped, and he stepped back, the spell broken. His smirk returned, though there was a lingering heat in his eyes as he shook his head.

“Saved by the idiots,” he muttered, turning back to the map. “Let’s finish this before they burn the ship down.”

You let out a shaky laugh, trying to steady your racing heart. “Right. The plan.”

Law resumed explaining, his voice returning to its usual calm, authoritative tone, but the air between you remained charged. Every time his hand brushed yours or his shoulder bumped against yours, you felt it—a spark, a promise of something more. He was focused now, pointing out the finer details of the mission, but you caught the occasional glance, the way his eyes lingered on you when he thought you weren’t looking.

As he wrapped up, he leaned back against the table, crossing his arms. “Any questions?”

You shook your head, still trying to process the last few minutes. “Nope. Crystal clear.”

“Good,” he said, but he didn’t move, his eyes studying you with that same intensity that made your skin prickle. “You’re with me tomorrow, so don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t,” you promised, then added with a grin, “As long as you don’t get distracted.”

His lips twitched, and he stepped closer again, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. “Keep talking like that, and we’ll see who’s distracted tomorrow.”

You laughed, pushing him lightly on the chest. “Focus, Captain. You’ve got a mission to lead.”

He caught your wrist, his grip gentle but firm, and for a moment, you thought he might pull you closer again. But instead, he released you, his smirk softening into something almost fond. “Get some rest,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You’ll need it.”

You nodded, turning to leave, but you paused at the door, glancing back at him. “Law?”

He looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you dodging my question earlier,” you said, grinning. “You totally like me.”

His smirk returned, sharper this time. “Get out of here,” he said, but there was no hiding the amusement—or the warmth—in his eyes.

As you left the map room, your heart still racing, you couldn’t help but smile. Tomorrow’s mission was going to be interesting, and you had a feeling Law’s teasing was only the beginning.

[wainawtmai]

18+!, yandere!satoru, dark themes, somnophilia

i love the duality in yandere!satoru

to you, he’s nothing but smiles and playful snark, attempting to charm you with a flash of those baby blues and a hushed flirt from his pretty pink lips. but you’d shrugged off all of his attempts, thinking they're all just jokes.

but to anyone he’d seen even remotely interested in you, he became more of the overpowered monster that the higher ups couldn't contain. There was still a chilling smile on his lips when he hunted them down, his face shrouded by darkness, blue eyes aglow as he slaughtered each and every person who dared to touch and covet what was his.

you were none the wiser, lamenting to him with a sigh that none of your dates seemed to stick. Satoru gave that pretty little smirk, telling you that maybe you should just give up. Despite the fact that he couldn't stop picturing their tortured faces and screams of agony. The way their flesh seemed to easily cave away beneath his hands as their blood splattered across his pristine skin.

sometimes you felt like you could feel the chill of an icy gaze whenever you changed within your bedroom, shuffling quickly to the open window and shutting it with a shiver, knowing there were tons of creeps and pervs around town that were probably waiting hungrily for you to take your clothes off.

little did you know that one of those creeps was your closest friend, who waited for you to fall asleep and watched you, brushing fingers across your bare skin, relishing the goosebumps rising on your supple flesh. blue eyes glaring at you ravenously as he stripped back your covers to reveal your half naked body, your breasts barely confined by the flimsiness of your t-shirt, and never any underwear.

he liked to fantasize that maybe you knew he watched you nightly and wanted to put on a show. He imagined sinking into your wet heat—he could do it now, your pussy bare and just begging to be filled. He wanted to so badly but more than that he wanted you to be awake for when it did happen, needed you to watch as he buried his cock inside of you.

for now, he'd fist his cock over your plush lips, splattering his cum across your sleeping face with a whimper. Then use his blushing red cock head to smear his cum across your mouth, and nearly coming again to the sight of his seed splattered across the soft skin of your face. He’d made such a mess out of you. 

he always tried cleaning you up the best he could, but you still wake up in the morning with the taste of him on your lips. You're too delirious with exhaustion to question it or your missing underwear. There were so many more important things you had to worry about.

other nights he stood over you until you stirred and woke up, startled by his blue eyed silhouette looming over you. you screamed and scrambled for your lamp light—but when you turn it on your room is empty. satoru watched the panic overtake your face from your closet as you struggled to fall asleep, rutting into your underwear to a quick finish at the sight of your quaking eyes and the way you buried yourself under your covers, wracked with paranoia.

on those nights you dream of lingering blue eyes and a shadow coming at you with bloody hands. you anxiously recount the night to him the next day, his eyebrows furrowing with sympathy as he places a hand on yours.

a part of you suspects him, those startling blue eyes somewhat reminded you of him. But then he smiles at you, places a hand over yours, and tells you everything will be alright. And all of a sudden your doubts of him dissipate. They're replaced with a slight guilt at suspecting one of your closest friends of something so heinous. He would never do that to you.

right?

[applecaviar]

The land of no return part 2

Got this idea from the new update.

There will be angst and smut later on.

What if Zayne really leaves?

Part 1 here Part 3 here Part 4 here Part 5 here Part 6 here Part 7 here Part 8 here

Day 3-67

Anger and Bargaining hit you almost at the same time.

The anger is a living thing, a volatile beast that thrashes within your chest. It colors your world a blood red hue, distorting everything you see. The dishes you use for breakfast, the mug he once drank from, the chair he used to sit in, all of them are tainted.

The anger is a drug, a poison that courses through your veins and infects your mind. It's in the way you slam doors, the way you hurl his belongings across the room, the way you claw at the walls. It's in the bitter, acidic taste that coats your tongue, the leaden weight that settles in your stomach.

You can't eat, can't sleep, can't breathe. The anger is always there, a suffocating presence that threatens to choke the life out of you. You go through the motions of living, but you're not living, you're surviving. Surviving the rage that consumes you, that screams for justice.

At the same time, the bargaining begins. It's a desperate, frantic attempt to negotiate with a god that doesn't exist, to strike a deal with fate. "Please," you find yourself praying to the empty air, "please, if you bring him back, if you make him see reason, I'll do anything. Anything at all."

You promise to be a better person, a more understanding partner. You promise to love him more, harder, fiercer than ever before. You'd give anything to have him back, to heal the rift that tears your soul apart.

The anger and the bargaining are two sides of the same coin, the duality of your shattered heart. You rage against the injustice of it all, and you beg for the mercy that you desperately crave. You're drowning in a tempest of emotions, the anger and despair churning inside you like a violent storm. The anger demands retribution, the despair aches for reconciliation. You're trapped in this hellish limbo, unable to move forward and unable to let go.

Late at night, when the world is dark and silent, you find yourself on the verge of madness. You clutch your phone, your fingers hovering over his contact. You imagine him picking up, hearing your anguished cries, feeling the weight of your pain. You picture him breaking down, realizing the error of his ways, rushing back to your arms.

But the phone remains silent, the screen mocking you with its empty void. And the anger rises up again, hotter and more furious than before. How could he be so cruel? So heartless? Did he think you were that easily discarded?

You lash out again, hurling the nearest object, a vase, a lamp, a framed photo of the two of you, happier times. Glass shatters, wood splinters, memories scatter. You revel in the destruction, in the chaos, in the violent release of your rage. You want to tear the world down, to burn it to the ground, to make it feel the agony that consumes you.

But even as you rage, even as you bargain and plead, a small, insidious voice whispers in the back of your mind. A voice that asks if maybe, just maybe, he really did this for you. To protect you. To save you from the pain he feared he might one day inflict. The thought is a betrayal, a stab to the heart. You push it away, unable to contemplate such a notion.

He left you. He abandoned you. He broke his promises. And for that, you will never forgive him.

The anger is a cancer, a malignant growth that spreads through every cell of your being. It poisons your thoughts, your words, your actions. It's in the way you snap at friends, at family, at strangers on the street.

The anger follows you everywhere, even to the office. It's in the way you snap at your colleagues, the way you rush headlong into dangerous missions without a second thought. Your hunting partner, Xavier, watches you with growing concern. He's seen you like this before, but never this... unhinged.

One day, as you're preparing for a particular mission, you hear a sharp whistle behind you. You turn to see Xavier, his brow furrowed in worry. "Y/N, wait," he calls out, jogging over to your side. "Are you sure about this? That target is too close to the Wanderer stronghold. It's too risky."

You scoff, anger rising up "I can handle it," you growl, shouldering past him. "I don't need your permission."

Xavier grabs your arm, his grip tight and unyielding. "Damn it, listen to yourself. You're not thinking straight." His voice is urgent. "I know you're hurting, but you can't let it cloud your judgment. Not out there."

You try to shake him off, but he holds fast, his eyes boring into yours. "I can't let you go in there like this," he says, his voice hardening. "I won't let you get yourself killed."

The anger boils over, and you lash out, shoving him hard in the chest. He staggers back, surprise flashing across his face before it's replaced by a grim determination. "Fine," he says, his voice cold. "I'll go with you. But if you get yourself hurt, I swear to god..."

He doesn't finish the sentence, but he doesn't need to. You know him well enough to understand the unspoken threat. Together, you both set out, the tension palpable between you. You're so lost in your rage, so consumed by your anguish, that you don't notice the subtle signs. The increased Wanderer activity, the strange readings from the scanner, the eerie stillness of the forest.

It's not until you're deep in the heart of the mission that you realize your mistake. A sudden burst of movement catches your eye, and you whirl around, gun raised. But you're too slow, too hesitant. A searing pain explodes in your side and you fall.

You crumple to the ground, your gun clattering from your grasp. The pain is blinding, a white hot agony that steals the breath from your lungs. You look down, your vision swimming, and see the blood already staining your shirt a deep, sickening red.

"Fuck," you hear Xavier curse, his voice distant and muffled. He's by your side in an instant, his hands pressing down on the wound, trying to stem the flow. " Y/N stay with me. Don't you dare pass out on me now."

You try to speak, to reassure him, but all that comes out is a strangled gasp. The world is fading, the edges of your vision darkening. The last thing you see before everything goes black is Xavier's face, etched with a fear and anguish you've never seen before.

The pain is a distant thing now, muted and hazy. The darkness is broken by a flickering light, a soft glow that seems to beckon you forward. You find yourself standing in a place that's both familiar and strange, a memory made tangible.

He's wearing the same outfit as that day. He seems to be waiting for something, his posture tense and expectant.

You approach him slowly, each step a struggle, a battle against the weight of your grief and anger. As you draw closer, he seems to sense your presence, his shoulders relaxing, a soft smile curling his lips.

"Did you think that by leaving you wouldn't hurt me?" you ask, your voice a hoarse whisper. "Maybe death would be better."

His eyes are filled with a sorrow so deep it steals your breath. "No," he says, his voice gentle yet firm. "Leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever done. It was the greatest regret, the most painful decision I've had to face."

The dream fades, dissolving like mist in the cold light of reality. The pain in your side is still there, a throbbing ache that serves as a stark reminder of the danger you've put yourself in. The anger is still there too, a visceral rage that burns in the pit of your stomach.

You're lying in a hospital bed, the sterile white walls and beeping machines a grotesque contrast to the warmth and comfort of your home. Xavier is seated beside you, his hand holding yours, his eyes closed in exhaustion. He must have been here for hours, waiting for you to wake up.

As if sensing your gaze, he stirs, his eyes blinking open to meet yours. The relief in them is palpable, the tension draining from his body as he realizes you've regained consciousness. "Thank god," he breathes, his voice hoarse from exhaustion and emotion. "Don't do that to me again, you crazy woman."

You try to smile, but it hurts too much. Everything hurts too much. Your body feels like it's been put through a meat grinder, the pain in your side joined by a symphony of aches and pains from your head to your toes.

But the worst pain is the one in your heart, the one that has nothing to do with your physical wounds.

You think of the promise he made you, all those months ago under a sky illuminated by fireworks, of a love that would never let you be brave alone.

And then you remember his words before he left. The admission that he feared hurting you, that he couldn't bear the thought of causing you pain.

"If I were to truly hurt you one day, it would be the biggest regret of my life"

Are you regretting it yet, Zayne?

The questions burns in your throat, a bitter poison that threatens to choke you. You want to scream it at him, to demand answers, to make him confront the devastation he's wrought.

But you can't. Because even now, even with the pain and the anger and the anguish, you still love him. And that love, twisted and broken as it may be, keeps your questions locked tight in your throat. You can't bring yourself to voice them, to shatter the fragile illusion that he might still care. That he might still feel the same way he did all those months ago, when he promised you a future together.

Xavier leans in closer, his brow furrowed in concern as he takes in the anguish etched on your face. "He's not worth it," he says softly, "Whatever happened between you two... it's not worth putting your life in danger. You're stronger than this."

His words are a balm to your battered soul, a lifeline thrown to a drowning woman. You clutch at them, desperate to believe in the strength he sees in you.

You turn your head away, staring out the window at the gray sky beyond. The sun is setting, the light fading into a bleak twilight that mirrors the emptiness inside you.

"I just want to know," you whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. "I need to know if he regrets it. If he thought... if he believed that leaving me wouldn't hurt me as much as... as this."

The words hang in the air, a bitter accusation that demands an answer. An answer you know you may never receive. The thought is a knife to the heart, a twist of the blade that threatens to cut you open and spill out the shattered remains of your soul.

Xavier is silent for a long moment, his thumb stroking over your knuckles in a soothing caress. When he speaks again, his voice is heavy with a sadness that resonates deep within you.

"I don't know. I don't know what he was thinking when he left. But I know that whatever he felt... it's not an excuse for you to throw your life away."

The anger and desperation is a toxic cocktail that fuels your reckless behavior. You throw yourself into your work with a manic fervor, seeking out the most dangerous missions, pushing yourself to the brink of exhaustion and beyond. Each day is a gamble, each mission a roll of the dice, hoping that the next close call, the next injury, will be the one to bring him running back to your side.

Xavier watches you with growing concern and exasperation, trying time and time again to reign you in, to make you see reason. But you're deaf to his warnings, blind to the danger you put yourself in. You're chasing a ghost and you won't stop until you've crashed headlong into the abyss.

The hospital becomes a second home, the sterile scent of disinfectant and the beeping of machines a sickening soundtrack to your self-destruction. You wake up, battered and shattered, to find your friends and family, Xavier, Rafayel, Caleb and even once Sylus, slumped in a chair beside you, their faces marked by worry and exhaustion.

Two months pass in a blur of pain and anguish, of reckless abandon and shattered hopes. With each passing day, the anger fades, the bargaining crumbles, and the bitter truth sets in like a lead weight in your belly. He's not coming back. He's not going to swoop in and save you, to heal you with his touch and his love.

He's gone. And you're still here, a broken, shattered shell of a woman, clinging to the ruins of a love that died the moment he walked away.

It takes two months for the realization to sink in, for the cruel truth to pierce the haze of your grief and rage. Two months of self-destruction, of throwing yourself into harm's way, hoping that the pain of your injuries would be enough to bring him back to you.

But in the end, it's a futile effort. A desperate, misguided attempt to make him feel the anguish that you do, to force his hand, to make him realize the gravity of his mistake. But he doesn't come. He remains absent, silent, a ghost that haunts your dreams but never materializes in your waking life.

As you lie there, your body healing from the latest string of injuries, the realization hits you like a freight train. He's not going to appear at your bedside, his eyes filled with regret and love, ready to take back the promises he broke and the future he stole.

The anger fades, a spent force that leaves you hollow and empty. In its place, a yawning chasm opens up, a black void that threatens to swallow you whole. The world around you continues to spin, the days turning into weeks, the weeks into months, but you're trapped in this suffocating darkness, drowning in the weight of your own despair.

Everything moves on, except for you. Your life stands still, frozen in the moment when he walked away. The world outside your window is a blur of color and light, while your world is a monochrome hell, a prison of your own making.

The constant reminders are everywhere, impossible to escape. Your new primary care doctor, the one who patched you up time and time again after your reckless actions, is replaced by a new cardiologist. He's a couple years older than Zayne, with the same practiced bedside manner and the same piercing gaze. But there's a hardness to his eyes when he looks at you, a barely concealed exasperation at your self destructive behavior.

You see him in the hallways of the hospital, striding purposefully towards a patient's room, his white coat fluttering behind him. And each time, you feel the knife twist in your heart, the cruel reminder of what you've lost, of the man who could have been your future, your everything.

But you don't care. Caring requires energy, requires a will to live that you no longer possess. The anger is gone, burned out like a flickering candle in the wind, leaving behind only the bitter dregs of despair.

You start to avoid the hospital, to avoid the constant reminders of the life you once had. You make excuses, you delay, you put off the check-ups and the follow-ups, until your friends and family start to notice, start to whisper their concerns behind your back.

But you're beyond caring. Beyond the point of no return. The depression has taken hold, its icy tendrils wrapping around your heart and squeezing the life from it, drop by painful drop.

[polarity-disturbed]

Ok no, we have to talk about the lighting design this season. Like I need to physically get this out of my body before I implode.

Because it’s so deliberate. It's obnoxiously deliberate. In the best, most beautiful, emotionally manipulative way.

So. Let’s talk about Belinda’s bedroom scene.

We open on Belinda’s bedroom, and the first thing you notice is that it’s drenched—absolutely soaked—in a cool teal-green wash. Not a trace of warmth in the room’s ambient light (aside from the salt lamp but I'll get to it).

Teal is a weirdly loaded color. People always slap it on when they want “serenity” or “calm,” sure, but there’s something haunting about the way it’s used here. It doesn’t feel like peace—it feels like the kind of stillness that happens after something ends. Like the quiet after the noise. That post-shift haze where your body’s in bed but your brain hasn’t followed yet.

What this tells us about Belinda? She’s stuck. The teal isn’t soothing her—it’s holding her in place. This isn’t a woman “relaxing” after work. This is a woman numbed by routine. She’s lying on top of the covers in a basic t-shirt, sweatpants, and socks—clothes that aren’t chosen, just defaulted to. The bed isn’t made. The room isn’t messy, but it isn’t cared for either. It's just… there. Like her.

Everything feels low-energy, lived-in without being truly inhabited. There’s a faint sense of order, but it doesn’t feel owned. There’s no vitality in the space. Like she’s present, but not alive. Teal here isn’t calm—it’s domestic sedation. It’s the color of pause. Of liminality.

Then there's that salt lamp. This soft, orange-yellow glow tucked in the corner of the frame. Warm, comforting, alive—completely opposite the teal-blue void it’s fighting against. It’s the only light source in the room that feels personal. Human.

And it’s not just that it’s a warm color. Color emotion theory tells us that orange and amber tones evoke feelings of warmth, optimism, and emotional openness. They're often used to simulate firelight, tapping into a primal sense of security—think hearth, sunset, candle. These hues are associated with creativity and personal connection. In a sea of teal, which promotes detachment, this little pocket of orange is like a flare of identity. A soul-spark.

Where teal sedates, amber invites. It’s the color of possibility, of life that hasn’t been extinguished yet. It's why the lamp doesn't light the room—it gives it a pulse.

Now here’s the kicker: the salt lamp is right under the star placard. The one with her name on it. The one that kickstarts the entire plot because a whole alien race thinks it makes her their queen.

The lamp’s glow reads like a tiny heartbeat in an otherwise frozen space. Symbolically, it’s the spark of self. That little ember of hope, joy, personality, belief—whatever you want to call it—that hasn’t been drowned out by the monotony of her life yet.

And the fact that it's under the placard? It's literally illuminating the part of her that the universe is about to claim.

Next we cut to a close-up of Belinda in bed. The composition here is brilliant.

Her pillow and the surrounding sheets are washed in the same cool teal light we saw earlier—but her? She's glowing in the orange warmth of the salt lamp.

This isn’t just pretty lighting—it’s duality. It's saying, “Here’s who she is now” (the teal), “and here’s what’s still inside her” (the glow). There’s a literal split happening—like she’s caught in a transition she doesn’t realize is coming.

This is the in-between. Her liminal moment. She’s not where she was, and she’s not yet where she’s going. But the camera lingers like it knows. Like it’s waiting for the change to start.

Then—boom. The lighting shifts. We get this violently bright, harsh yellow light flooding in through the window. And it doesn’t just pour in—it slices in. Through the blinds. In bars.

Let me say that again: bars.

It’s casting shadows across her body like a prison cell. That’s not an accident. It’s signaling that something is coming for her, and it’s not asking permission. It’s claiming her.

Yellow is a deceptive color in emotional theory. People think of it as cheerful—sunlight, sunflowers, warmth, joy, energy. But in design, especially in lighting? Yellow walks a tightrope. It can tilt into chaos fast. Especially when it’s this bright. This sudden. This aggressive.

See, yellow stimulates. It grabs your attention. It speeds up the heart. In advertising, it's used to spark urgency, even irritation (think hazard lights or warning signs). It’s a color that demands you look—and keep looking. You can’t relax in yellow. You can’t sleep in yellow. You react to yellow.

So when this high-saturation yellow floods Belinda’s room, it’s not joy. It’s not hope. It’s alarm. It’s a psychological jolt. A visual shove. It's not warmth—it's pressure.

Yellow in this scene is not an invitation to a new beginning—it’s an intrusion of expectation. A sudden spotlight. A cosmic glare.

And because it’s coming from outside the room, it’s not something she’s chosen. It’s not internal. It’s a force of narrative crashing through her private life. A story she didn’t ask to be in, demanding her attention. That yellow isn’t her destiny—it’s the noise of everyone else's expectations about who she’s going to become.

Now add the shadows of the blinds—those harsh horizontal slats—and you get a visual contradiction: a color that screams freedom, cast like a cage.

This is where it gets interesting. Because yellow is also associated with identity. Think ego, confidence, clarity of purpose. But when it’s forced, when it’s too loud, too fast, too bright—it becomes performance. The expectation to be seen. To shine. To embody something.

And that’s what’s happening here. The light doesn’t just want to see her—it wants her to become something. Bigger. Brighter. More.

This yellow doesn’t light her path. It exposes her.

She’s no longer safe in teal limbo. No longer comforted by the amber pulse of her salt lamp. She’s on display now. A body in a frame, spotlighted by a universe with no context. A woman seen through blinds—literally and metaphorically—by beings who will misread everything about her.

It’s the color of being watched. Of being presumed important. Of being chosen for reasons that have nothing to do with who you actually are.

And that’s the genius of it. That yellow glow isn't warmth—it’s the burn of recognition without understanding. It’s what happens when the world thinks you’re a lightbulb and plugs you into a searchlight.

Next: the silhouette.

We see Belinda standing in front of the window, her body blacked out by the light in front of her. The yellow glows around her like a solar flare through the clouds. It’s angelic. Messianic. Looks like the birth of a chosen one.

But that’s not what’s happening.

She’s not rising to the occasion. She’s staring out, stunned, trying to make sense of what just punched its way into her night. The light frames her like a heroine, but narratively, she’s still playing catch-up. That contrast—the visual myth vs. her actual confusion—is where the scene gets its emotional punch.

We’re watching her image transform before she does. The world sees her one way. The camera frames her that way. But she hasn’t caught up to that version of herself yet.

And then: the blinds.

Belinda slowly peels two slats open. A single bar of that same aggressive yellow light slices across her face and eyes. It’s dramatic. Cinematic. Looks like a revelation moment.

But it’s not a choice.

This isn’t Belinda stepping into anything. She’s not crossing a threshold. She’s just cracking the blinds because something is already happening to her—and she doesn’t understand it yet.

The light doesn’t represent clarity or destiny. It’s not a warm invitation. It’s an impact. A collision. A blunt force of something larger than her life forcing its way into her space. The yellow glow across her eyes doesn’t illuminate—it disrupts.

And that’s the real tension: she’s about to feel chosen. About to be miscast as important. But right now? She’s just tired. Just a woman in a basic tee and sweats, lying on top of the covers, poking through the blinds because something weird is happening to her, not for her. She’s not looking for meaning. She’s bracing for answers she didn’t ask to get.

That narrow beam of light slicing into the room isolates her. It spotlights her against her will. The world beyond those blinds has noticed her, and that attention is about to upend everything.

It’s the start of a misunderstanding. The beginning of being seen wrong. Of being dragged into something monumental because of one stupid star certificate and a moment she didn’t choose.

The light doesn’t welcome her. It claims her.

And the brilliance of this scene is how it tells us all of that—who Belinda is, what she’s lacking, and what’s coming—without a single word. The color palette sets her emotional baseline; the lighting builds the lie. It misleads us just enough that we feel the shift with her.

[doumadono]

Happy sinful Sunday y'all 💙❤️ I decided to try my luck with submitting a request. How about a reader riding Shoto's cock to help him get rid of the tension after a busy day?

Warnings: smut w/o plot, cowgirl, overstimulation, slow sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, pro hero!Shoto

A/N: this request got the second highest number of votes during the Sinful Sunday poll I held. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA & MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

Your fingers trace the lines of his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath your touch, the rhythm of his heartbeat against your palm. 

Shoto's dual-toned eyes, one a striking turquoise and the other a deep gray, watch you with a mix of hunger and tenderness. 

The room is dimly lit, the soft glow from a single lamp casting shadows that dance across his bare skin.

His breath hitches as your lips brush against his collarbone, leaving a trail of heat and moisture. 

You can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coil and uncoil beneath your touch, responding to every kiss, every caress. You shift slightly, feeling the warmth and hardness of his cock pressing against your naked inner thigh as you straddle him. Your own arousal pools between your legs, a liquid heat that makes you ache for him.

For days now, you've watched Shoto come home exhausted, burdened by the weight of his demanding shifts. His eyes, usually so vibrant and full of life, had been clouded with stress and fatigue. Tonight, you decided to take matters into your own hands, to help him rid himself of the negativity and tension that had gathered within him.

Slowly, you rise up, positioning yourself above him. 

Shoto's eyes darken with desire as he watches you, his lips parting slightly. 

You can see the restraint in his expression, the effort it takes for him to remain still, to let you take control. With a slow, teasing motion, you change position a little so your pussy is hovering just above his throbbing cock. Gripping his cock with your hand, you line the tip of it with your pussy. Moving your hand up and down, you jerk him off nice and slow, mere millimeters from your entrance. The action turns both of you on as you can hear his breathing starting to become heavier and deeper, and the juices from your pussy start to flow out of you, covering both your hand and his cock. Finally, you lower yourself onto him, feeling the exquisite stretch as his cock fills you. The sensation is almost overwhelming.

Shoto's hands tighten on your hips, his breath coming in shallow pants. "God, you feel so good," he murmurs, his voice rough with need. 

You begin to move, setting a slow, sensual rhythm that has both of you moaning in pleasure. The slide of his cock inside you is maddeningly perfect, hitting all the right spots. You lean forward, your breasts brushing against his chest, your lips finding his in a heated kiss. Building up more and more rhythm, moving faster and faster, you ride yourself up and down on Shoto’s cock.

His hands roam over your body, exploring every curve, every dip. Shoto's hands are a duality of their own, one side searing hot, the other icy cold. The juxtaposition of temperatures as he touches you, caressing your skin and sending shivers and warmth through your body, intensifies every sensation. 

"Shoto," you whisper against his lips, your voice trembling with need. "I need more."

He responds with a low growl, his hands guiding your hips faster. 

You put your hands down on his abs and started riding him faster, bouncing up and down his hardened shaft. 

The change in pace is intoxicating, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. You can feel his control slipping, his movements becoming more urgent, more demanding. 

"Come for me," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. "I want to feel you come on my dick.”

The words are your undoing. With a cry, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. The intensity of it leaves you trembling, clinging to him as your hips still.

Shoto follows you over the edge, his grip on your hips tightening as he spills his thick, lukewarm seed inside you. 

The feeling of his release, the warmth of his cum filling you, is the final push that sends you spiraling into another orgasm, and you’re screaming his name, your body milking every last drop of his release from him.

You collapse against his chest, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies slick with sweat. 

Shoto's arms wrap around you, holding you close, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your forehead. "You're amazing," he murmurs, his voice soft and tender now, the raw edge of desire replaced by a deep, abiding affection. "I love you."

"I love you too," you reply, your heart full to bursting. 

In this moment, with him, everything feels perfect. 

As you lay there, still entwined, you can't help but trace the contours of his handsome face with your fingers. 

His eyes flutter closed, a contented sigh escaping his lips. 

You smile, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. The exhaustion that had clung to him for days seems to have melted away, replaced by a serene calm.

You gently push yourself up, straddling him once more. 

Shoto's eyes open, a spark of curiosity and renewed desire flickering within them. “Babe…”

Yet you can feel his cock stir beneath you, still sensitive from your shared climax but ready for more. "I want to make sure all that tension is completely gone," you whisper, leaning down to kiss him deeply as the tip of his cock teases your wet folds. You swing a knee over Shoto, put a hand on his throbbing cock, and direct it toward your drenched pussy. After a moment, you impale yourself on his rock hard shaft,  and Shoto moans at the feeling of reentering your wetness. “I don’t give a shit about how overstimulated we still are.”

His hands find your hips again, and he groans so sweetly you feel butterflies in your stomach.

You begin to move once more, your pace slow and deliberate. You can feel every ridge, every vein, the way his cock stretches you just right. The friction is exquisite, each movement sending ripples of pleasure through your entire body.

Shoto's hands guide you, his grip firm yet tender. He watches you with an intensity that makes your heart race, his dual-colored eyes dark with desire. "That's it," he groans, his voice a low, husky whisper. "Just like that." He thrusts his hips upward to meet all of your movements. "Fuck, you're so tight, babe," he groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

You increase your pace, the sound of your bodies moving together filling the room. You close your eyes and let your head fall back as you slide up and down his cock, riding him as if he was a stallion. 

He leans forward to lick and kiss your tits, and you moan for him. Shoto's hands roam over your body, caressing your breasts, your waist, the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

You start bouncing harder on his cock as he worships your tits for a while. 

With one hand he starts rubbing your swollen clit, and your pussy spasms around his throbbing cock.

Your body can't decide whether to shiver from the cold or melt from the heat, the contrasting temperatures driving you wild. "Shoto," you moan, your voice breathless and needy. "I can't... I can't hold on…"

"Let go," he urges, his grip on your hips tightening. "I want to feel you come again."

The intensity of his words, the command in his tone, sends you spiraling towards another climax. You can feel the pressure building, the coil tightening within you, ready to snap. With a cry of his name, you come undone, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm.

Shoto's own release follows closely, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with his seed once more. The warmth of his cum, the way his body shudders beneath you, is making you moan, just for him.

You collapse against him, both of you spent and breathless. 

His arms wrap around you yet again, holding you close, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your temple. 

The room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing.

As you lay there, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath you, you can't help but smile. "I love you," you whisper, your voice filled with all the emotions you can't put into words.

"I love you too," Shoto replies, his voice equally tender. "Thank you for taking my breath away."

[incorrect-worldless-quotes]

*In a group chat*

Angel: A pegan just flew into my window.

Shade: Pegan?

Lamp: A what?

Aven: Ah yes, my favourite bird, Pegan.

Edda: I thought you said penguin for a second, LMAO!

Aven: Just a normal day with flying penguins crashing into my window.

Edda: You have pigeons flying into your window? Can't relate, I have penguins flying into my window.

Angel: I literally just made a typo-

[inf3ct3dd]

ellie headcanons pt.3,,,!!

warnings: mentions of boobs, ass (lmao) , mild sexual content, use of the d-slur (jokingly)

content: loser!ellie x reader :3 my pookieeee

authors note: these r actually my favorite things to write ever like im so glad yall like them :333

pt. 2. taglist!!! masterlist!!!!

☆ REALLY likes beef jerky. she’ll just sit there and chew…

- her hands r just constantly freezing. like DEAD PERSON COLD ITS SCARYYYY!!! she definitely uses ur boobs as handwarmers and its JARRING because her hands are actually so cold 😞😞!!!

- HER FEET TOO!!! she has some sort of circulation issues bc you’ll be in bed together and she’ll put her feet on you and you’ll just turn into a cartoon ice cube 😕😕

- the SECOND u have some sort of drama she is seated. like she is so MESSY she will talk shit abt someone she knows absolutely nothing abt just bc u don’t like them. anyone you hate she hates 💪🏽💪🏽

- speaking of she is literally so sassy 😞😞 like she will literally full body turn away from you and look at the window while you drive if she’s mad at you.

- every time you say something even remotely sexual she’s looking at you like 🤨 and trying not to laugh. if you texted her “im coming” she’d burst out laughing and write back like “geez we’re just going to the zoo…didn’t know u were THAT excited”

- has the humor of a middle school boy. she has an actual problem w deez nuts jokes 😞😞 she thinks its SOOOO FUNNY to give u fake backshots whenever you bend over around her. fake moans and everything 💔💔

- a pharb AND a barb. she definitely knows all of super bass by heart, and she knows how to play savior complex on the guitar. duality of women!!!

- every time you say something nice to her she’s like “ew thats gay” and then she gets upset when u get upset for it 😞 so RUDE actually!!!

- really likes doing facemasks with you because you always put them on for her, and because you look really stupid with them on.

- this video. js this whole video like!!! she definitely has that dinosaur hand sanitizer AND that backpack!!

- likes rings cuz she thinks they make her look cool, but she literally cannot keep them for more than a month. they get lost SO EASILY!!!

- knows a concerning amount of things about the roman empire.

- definitely saw the barbie movie with you, and got so embarrassed at the ken guitar scene ☹️ “do i do that??” and you had to hold back laughter and tell her no

- if you have little siblings, they LOVE HER. she is so good with kids its insane. she would definitely do the griddy w ur little brother and you would NEVER let her live it down

- if you take her to a family gathering, she’s either talking with your uncles or hanging out with your younger cousins. she’s scared of your cousins your age bc they’re “cool like you”

- definitely bought you lego flowers at one point and sat on the floor and built them with you

- has those glow-in-the-dark stars on her bedroom ceiling

- would absolutely lick your salt lamp “for science”

- one time you put her hair in pigtails and she wore it the whole day, and refused to let her friends make fun of it cuz her “wife” did them

- talks about you like a 40 year old man talks about his wife. “gotta get home to the wife” definitely has “happy wife happy life!” on a tshirt

- built the two of you a house on minecraft and put your beds next to each otherrrr :((

- carved your name on her skateboard and guitar

- had an AWFUL emo phase in middle school. terrible. was absolutely an avid tumblr user

- such a nerd about vinyls. would take u on dates to her favorite vinyl store, and buy you a new vinyl player because “yours damages your vinyls, and the audio quality is shit” (you randomly bought it on amazon)

- just knows so many facts…about things…. like she’s always talking to you like “oh my god babe did you know that-“

- would get “jealous” of your pets whenever you’d pet them or hold them in front of her. just going up to your cat like “she likes me more than you”

- made herself one of those “i love my girlfriend” tshirts with your face on it

- your dad definitely loves her because they have so much in common. grilling, fishing,camping, she’s like the ultimate dad-dyke

- can fall asleep ANYWHERE. like the second she’s tired she’s just 😴😴 and she’s definitely using you as a pillow

- one time the two of you went to a family party and you found her asleep on two folded chairs

- you’re her wallpaper on all her devices.

- every time you ask her what she’s doing and she’s playing guitar shes like “just fingering my guitar”. she thinks its SOOOO HILARIOUS

- definitely says white ppl shit all the time on accident . one time she said “lets rock and roll” when you two were going somewhere and she literally didn’t talk for 5 minutes cuz you could not stop laughing

- LOVES burts bees !!! her lips always taste like their strawberry chapstick and its wonderful

- has a pair of lightning mcqueen crocs

- LOVESSSS when you paint her nails and do her makeup (she just likes you sitting on her lap)

- definitely one of those girls thats like. obsessed w doctor pepper. its a serious problem 😞😞!!!

- has a little shoe box full of receipts, polaroids of you, and little souvenirs from your dates. :((

- literally melts when you scratch her back

- very into horror games/analog horror. definitely binge watched markipliers “faith” gameplay and talked about it nonstop

- miles morales is def her fave superhero. has so many of his comics and LOVES the spiderverse movies. calls you her gwen 😞😞

taglist!!! if ur name is crossed i cant tag u :((

@syrenada @dinaissoprettyoml @kingofmylastkiss @as2rid @greencacty @melissabarrerass @bratydoll @lov3lylotus @forelliesposts @echostinn @f3r4lfr0gg3r @r3wbeef @leatheredhearts @mousymaven @mina-281 @princessguardian444 @calystas-morning-tea @horror-whoree @slutshies @bearieio @mag-mfm @bubs-world @paran0id0blivi0n @sawaagyapong @bbygrlshelbs @gayh0rr0r @pl9ys @ellieslilslvvt @dollietes @elliesmellsbadd @ibloom4u @ddreabea @beestar120 @brunettedolls-blog @girlwonderchloe @elliesgflol @maris-koffin @emonopolyman @iloveeyousblog @fr3sh-tragedies @ilovaffles @certifedcrybunny @elleatethat @baldph0bic @clouded-whispers @4rt3m1ss @saggykneecaps @swtsuna @ell1esslutt @minixmel @yuyans-stuff @owmoiralover @thecowardwrites @lunascerebro @elliestrwbrry @iwantsoda @teeveegirl @dinasmoon @urnewghostfriend

[casstheasswrites]

NO SAINTS, NO SAVIOURS (1)

pairing: frank castle x reader (female)

summary: wrong place, wrong time. he saved her life, she patched him up. that should’ve been the end of it. some nights, you survive. others, you change.

trigger warnings: canon typical violence including blood and death. ptsd, trauma, eventual smut. at times, you get soft!frank. at others, he takes no prisoners. we love the duality of man <3

chapter length: 2.2k

authors note: in case you want more of this story faster, i've got eight chapters posted on my AO3 (linked below). just going to start double posting here on tumblr too :) i hope you enjoy and pls pls send me a message with your feedback or thoughts, if you have any! thanks a million.

archive of our own / feedback appreciated!

It had been a long time since you’d made it to this point; a fourth date.

It wasn’t that you were unlikable, or the type of woman that men weren’t interested in getting to know. No, as a matter of fact, you occasionally had to turn down offers for dinner or drinks. Or both. 

You just didn’t have the time— or, well, you didn’t care enough to make the time. Between your friends, your family, and work… most days you felt like you barely had the time to come up for air. Anything more than that? Just not possible.

So making it to this night— a fourth consecutive date with a man who made you laugh and made you smile— was no small feat. He was a gentleman; the type to hold the door for you, the type who checked to ensure you made it home safely, the type to cover the bill without so much as a moment of hesitation.

It had been an experience, really; being wined and dined for the past few weeks. He’d even sent you flowers, twice— once, to your place of work, before you’d felt comfortable sharing your address. And then when you had, a bouquet even more grand had arrived the following morning, alongside a sweet note, letting you know he was thinking of you. Your apartment still faintly smelled of lavender and lilies. 

The mere thought of it, the reminder of the gesture, brought a crimson stain to the apples of your cheeks. You felt the heat of it warm your face, from the inside out; and when you glanced up at your reflection in the mirror before you a moment later, the evidence was there, as clear as day. You brushed a hand along the long strands of your hair, tucking a few fly-aways back behind your ears. The low light from a nearby lamp glimmered against the small gold hoops you wore.

While you’d never felt particularly rushed to find a partner, the more you thought about it, the more you tried to settle with the idea. But independence was so deeply ingrained in you that the thought of sharing your life— your space— still itched at a particularly sensitive part of your brain. You liked to be alone.

But you felt that with time, maybe, you’d grow more comfortable with the concept. Sleeping alone was both wonderful and awful; though the space was plentiful and the blankets warm, it didn’t stop a hint of cool from permeating your chest, settling beside that all too familiar ache that tasted a lot like loneliness.

Your phone buzzed on the desk before you and as the screen lit up, your gaze dipped, taking note of the time. Though the subway ride from your apartment in Hell’s Kitchen to the restaurant in Manhattan wasn’t long, you hated the thought of being late; and these days, in this city, it seemed nothing ran as it once had. Crime ravaged the streets and most nights, you felt less than safe walking the two blocks from the subway station to your home. So you’d taken to carrying some protection, though it wasn’t much; you’d have to fumble in your bag for at least a few seconds before your fingers would catch the cool, smooth cannister of pepper spray. It had been a parting gift from your father when you’d left home, all those years ago; as if somehow that would be enough to protect you from everything that lurked in the big city. You’d flirted recently with the thought of purchasing something more… but you hadn’t yet felt the need to take that plunge. And part of you worried what it would mean for you to cross that invisible line in the sand.

With a breath, you stood from the desk and took a step back, eyeing yourself in the mirror once more. You brushed a palm over the flat of your stomach, fingertips smoothing the silk material of your black blouse. You fiddled for a moment with the neckline, wondering if you should leave the top two buttons undone, as you’d planned. There was a gentle anxiety in your movements; a desire to look as presentable as possible without giving the wrong impression. Dating was so unfamiliar to you and the expectations were muddy, at best. Perhaps tonight, on the fourth date, it would be a good time to try and breach that topic… what comes next?

You certainly weren’t a prude; you were in your late twenties and not nearly as inexperienced as one might think. But this time in your life was different from the eras of the past; you were ‘dating with intention,’ as one of the girls from work might say. And you sort of liked the idea of taking things slow, of ensuring that he was a good match before taking that next step. So you lifted a hand up and slipped an extra button through the corresponding hole of your blouse; your collarbones still gleamed in the low light, just above the hem of the shirt, but that was all the skin on display. You wore a skirt which reached mid-thigh, but beneath it you had on a pair of opaque tights.

You felt pretty.

“Okay,” you mumbled to yourself, giving your head a gentle nod. “Good.”

As you rushed through your apartment and collected your things, your phone buzzed again, reminding you of the message you had ignored before. With one arm sliding into the long sleeve of your brown peacoat, the other unlocked the device. You read over the message and your lips curved; your date was checking to ensure you’d made it to the subway station alright.

Heading that way now, you wrote back, mouthing the words to yourself as you typed, one handed. Looking forward to seeing you.

Once the message was sent, you locked your phone and slipped it into your coat pocket. It was early October in New York and with that brought a chill that warned of approaching snowfall. With the upcoming walk in mind, you pulled a grey scarf off one of the hooks near your front door and wound it around your neck. Another moment and your boots were on and you were stepping out into the hallway outside your apartment.

By the time you reached the subway station, you were surprised to find it nearly empty. You supposed that most people were already tucked in for the night or preparing for the upcoming holiday weekend. Your work schedule had been a little off lately; but your date had been nothing but accommodating of the odd times you were able to meet up. The reminder of Thanksgiving brought with it a tug at your heart, your chest aching. Your parents had called a handful of weeks earlier, asking if you planned to make the trip upstate to visit. You’d declined, the usual excuse softly slipping off your tongue; and while it was true, you did have to work, you hadn’t exactly asked for the time off, either. Visits home had begun to spread out more, fewer and further between. You’d never been particularly eager to return home, since you’d left. But you used to grin and bear it much more often.

Now, whenever they asked, you could hear it in your parents’ voice. They already knew you’d decline.

Just as your mind began to wander to thoughts you’d rather leave locked away, the sound of heavy footfalls filled your ears. You’d taken to standing a few feet away from the subway tracks, eyes turned towards the direction the train would be coming from. But at the sudden noise, you turned, eyes flaring wide. It wasn’t just one set of footsteps; it was many. And they were running. Your heart stuttered within your chest and your hand dipped into your purse, jostling it abruptly on your shoulder. Your fingers were chilled from the cold air but after a moment, they settled on the bottle of pepper spray. You hoped you wouldn’t have to use it. You’d never even tested to be sure it worked.

Three men had arrived at the bottom of the stairs from the street above; they were all breathing heavily, eyes wide and wild, searching the platform for… something. Or someone. Your body was now turned partially towards them, and when one of the sets of eyes landed on you, you inhaled sharply. You weren’t the only person on the platform— surely there was someone else to focus on— but as you quickly peered back over your shoulder, you realized that many of the other people you’d seen down here a moment ago had dispersed. Some were further down the platform, not exactly within earshot, and some were simply… gone. As if they’d heard trouble approaching and had made quick work of escaping it, using the stairs on the far end to head back up to street level.

“Hey, you,” one of the men shouted, forcing your attention back to them. Your feet remained rooted in place, even as they took a few steps in your direction. If you moved, you’d only be able to go closer to the tracks. “You see a man come down here?”

“A man?” you echoed, blinking a few times. Your voice shook and carried down the platform, and even to your own ears, you sounded terrified. You gripped the bottle of pepper spray, trying to keep yourself grounded. And calm.

The other two men had broken away from the third and began pacing up and down this end of the platform. They peered behind benches and around the stairwell, clearly intent on finding whoever they were looking for. Their movements were somehow both rigid and shaky; and it did nothing but add to the unease that had settled in the pit of your stomach. You’d seen people move like that before; like they had nothing to lose and everything to gain. Like they were dangerous.

“Yes, a man,” he repeated, a few steps closer now. The time you’d taken to watch his group had cost you precious distance. From this close, you could make out a few more things about him— he was tall, but lithe. Fast, probably, but maybe not very strong. It was hard to tell with the layers of clothes he wore. You tried to memorize every detail you could. Just in case. He said something else, but you could hardly hear him over the pounding of your heart. You shook your head, indicating that you hadn’t heard, so he slowly repeated himself. “Tall, dark hair, dark clothes. Did you fuckin’ see him or not?”

“I’m not sure,” you said back after a moment, forcing yourself to swallow. You tasted bile at the back of your throat. “Is everything alright? Would you like me to call 911?”

As soon as the question left your lips, you knew it was the wrong thing to say. The man’s eyes flashed and suddenly he was moving towards you, footsteps far quicker than you’d expected. You let out a sharp shout and stumbled back just one step, your fingers locking around the can of pepper spray. It was now or never.

You forced your arm out of your purse and lifted the bottle into the empty space that separated you from the man; it wasn’t much space at all, just a few feet, but he stopped.

“Don’t come any closer,” you warned, though your voice still shook. “I didn’t see anyone. Just leave me alone.”

The man’s eyes were dark; and though it was difficult to see beneath the dim, fluorescent lights that hung above, you could have sworn you saw them darken. With rage. His lips parted, as if he was about to speak, but he didn’t have the chance.

A grunt echoed through the platform and then a heavy sound followed, like something with a lot of weight hitting concrete. Like someone collapsing, unconscious. That sound struck a chord in you, familiar. Ice crept up your spine and you blinked, fighting to remain rooted in the moment. The man before you spun at the sound; you expected him to go running, likely check on the men he’d come down here with— the men that you now realized were nowhere to be seen. But instead, his dark clothes flashed in front of you and you were caught off guard; he grabbed your extended hand and with little pressure, forced the bottle of pepper spray to fall from your grasp, clattering to the concrete below.

You shrieked this time and tried to wrench yourself backwards, but he was far stronger than you. It took him only a moment to get behind you and force an arm behind your back, painfully twisted at an uncomfortable angle. You knew without a second thought that one wrong move and your shoulder would dislocate; he seemed to know it, too. His fingers dug into your wrist and after a moment, his other hand lifted to the side of your head— but it wasn’t his hand that touched the skin of your temple; instead, it was something cold, that shone in the periphery of your vision.

The nausea in your stomach intensified. And when he clicked off the safety, your suspicious was proven to be true— it was a gun.

[nan-not-found]

"Heaven Can Wait"

Listen. I know, but it makes sense. Trust me.

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x Reader Song Inspo: Heaven Can Wait - Michael Jackson

Word Count: 613

There were moments you shared with Shoto that didn’t feel real.

Like now—when you were curled up beside him, the dim light from his desk lamp casting soft shadows across his peaceful face. He sat quietly, eyes on the book in his lap, but his hand never left yours. His thumb brushed small circles against your skin. Not absently. Not distractedly. Deliberately.

As if memorizing you. As if convincing himself you were real.

You didn’t need him to speak—you’d come to understand that silence wasn’t emptiness with him. It was reverence.

But tonight, the quiet was heavier.

“You’re thinking again,” you murmured, head resting against his shoulder.

He turned to look at you, slow and careful. “I’m always thinking.”

You tilted your chin up, studying him. “About what?”

His lips parted, then closed again. It took him a second before he answered, voice soft and low. “You.”

You smiled, but he didn’t. Not in the usual way. He reached up and gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, fingers brushing your cheek like you’d vanish if he touched you too hard.

“I think about how lucky I am to have this,” he murmured. “You.”

Your breath caught. His words were rarely many, but when he did speak them, they settled in your chest like gravity.

“I’ve lost a lot of time,” he continued. “Wasted too much of it being angry. Closed off. Cold.”

“Shoto—”

“If something ever happened to you,” he said quietly, “I don’t think I could survive it.”

The air shifted.

It wasn’t the dramatic kind of love story—there was no storm, no fire in the distance, no villain lurking in the dark. Just a boy who had tasted loneliness for too long. And now that he had found warmth, he refused to let it go.

“You don’t have to think about that,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “We have time. We have now. That’s what matters.”

He nodded slowly, then leaned in, resting his forehead gently against yours. You could feel the coolness of his right side, the warmth of his left, just like always—like the quiet duality that made him him.

“But what if Heaven was calling?” he asked suddenly, voice almost too soft to hear. “What if they asked me to leave this world behind… and I knew you couldn’t come with me?”

You blinked, heart twisting. “I don’t understand.”

“I’d tell them no,” he said, eyes searching yours. “I’d beg for more time. I’d choose this life, with you in it—even if it meant giving up everything else. Because wherever you are… that’s my heaven.”

The words broke something in you. Not from pain. From love. From the truth of it.

And maybe, if fate asked you the same question, you’d say the same thing. That paradise wasn’t gold gates or eternal light—it was his quiet voice, the warmth of his palm in yours, the soft way he said your name when he thought no one was listening.

“Shoto,” you whispered, “you don’t have to give up Heaven. I’m already here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He kissed you like he believed that—slow and soft, like he was giving thanks for every breath you shared. When he pulled back, he kept his hand on your cheek, grounding himself.

“This world is broken,” he said, voice cracking with something fragile. “But somehow… you make it bearable.”

You leaned into his touch. “We make it bearable together.”

For a long moment, there was only the hum of the room. The warmth of bodies close. The quiet promise of forever in a world that had no guarantees.

Because if Heaven could wait, you were worth the delay.

Masterlist

[blackwolfstabs]

Parker's Secret Santa Gifts🎄for @alkivm

ONE NORMAL NIGHT

In the heart of winter and in the dead of night, you and Wednesday share the woods.

fandom: Wednesday (2022) pairing: Wedesnday Addams × Fem!Vampire!Reader a/n: this is my 1st × reader ever so i'm feeling very insecure about it.. however, i wanted to do something up your alley, Alk. i also wanted to write from Wednesday because i knew writing something of Sam would be too predictable of me haha. anyways, i hope you enjoy!!

You slid into the partially dark dorm room that held your girlfriend’s strong scent. For someone as dark and mysterious as Wednesday, you never expected her to have a smell that was actually calming. However, this made it easier for you to find her. Being a vampire allowed you the same nose the werewolves had. Maybe even better, in your opinion…

Speaking of werewolves, Enid’s side of the room was the dark side, for once. She must’ve been out with her girl pack. This led you to immediately find Wednesday seated at her desk with a lit lamp as the clicking of the typewriter keys echoed off the walls. Her writing time, you presumed with a small smirk and shake of your head. It was part of her nightly routine. 

But you were looking for a night where they could just be with each other. It had snowed all day, but with the dark that you both adored, came clear skies and moonlight that made the snow sparkle. Wednesday, of course, didn’t care for sparkly things, but you hadn’t seen anything more vintage in decades. And you wanted to share that with her.

You wanted one normal night.

She never stopped typing, her black eyes undivided, but there was something about the way her shoulders braced that told you that she knew you were there. So, you approached her, but before you could speak, she did.

“What is it, Y/N?” she asked flatly. “You know this is my—”

“Yes, yes, I know. This is your writing time,” you cut her off as you stopped behind her chair and leaned against it. “I was thinking… maybe we could take a walk through the woods? We’ve been shut indoors all day because of the snowfall, and the moon is rather beautiful tonight.” You heard her give a short huff, which encouraged you to follow up with, “Almost as beautiful as you…”

Wednesday scoffed as she felt you lean down and kiss her cheek. You had just been outside, on your way over, so your lips were cold against her warm skin. It made her pull away slightly, “Oh, please, your pick-up lines are aging on me.” But even she had her own jokes to turn around on you, and she glanced up to tease, “Almost as much as you.”

To be fair, you did not see that coming as you looked away in mock offense. “You've been waiting to spring that one on me, haven’t you?”

She shrugged and went back to her writing, “Not really. You just fell into the trap.”

“Sly psychic,” you rolled your eyes.

“Dumb vampire.”

God, the way she just threw back words in any situation that made her charisma grow had your vampire instincts tingling. It made you frisky and longing for a hunt. However, if Wednesday followed your lead, you could take the thirst just to have one night with her. “Please?” you hated to beg, yet here you were doing it for her. “Can’t you spare one day of cutting your writing time short?”

Your borderline-desperate tone made her give a small smirk, and that gave you a little bit of hope. You had other plans for that night anyway, so you would make sure she’d show her side of the duality you had gotten the pleasure to know.

“Let me finish this paragraph,” she eventually gave in. 

You let her do so without trouble, pacing around the room like a caged tiger while you waited. And then she stood up from her chair and turned around to catch you looking at her.

“You’ve got the patience of a saint.” The sarcasm was thick in her flat tone.

You just shrugged and nodded to the tunic-length jacket that was lying on her bed, “That should be warm enough for you.”

The raven gave you an uncertain look as she went to retrieve it and slip it on. “Sometimes, I think you forget that I’m not a vampire,” she commented, clearly not convinced one jacket would keep her warm in the snowy wilderness.

“Never,” you assured her. When she turned around and approached you with her dark eyes trying to figure out the million thoughts behind your glowing ones, you gave her a wink. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll keep you warm.” 

She didn’t look convinced. “I’m thrilled.” Then again, she never did.

You never took that personally from her. After all, she was the one to insinuate a relationship that was more than friends. She had even stolen the first kiss between you two. As uninterested as she tried to seem, you knew she was curious about what you had in mind. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have followed you out.

The bitter cold of the winter night suited you just fine as you stepped out of the heated indoors and shook your head out to relish the chilly freedom. You sighed in delight, before looking over your shoulder to see Wednesday pacing up next to you. 

She blinked unsteadily, the breeze stinging her eyes and cheeks as her bangs were swept aside. She crossed her arms and hugged them against her chest. “It had to be tonight?”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, come on, Wednesday, it’s not that bad!” You gave her a playful nudge. “You just need to get that warm blood pumping,” you then teased, your breed leaving you immune to the freeze.

She just growled in annoyance, which made you decide to take the first step—well, more like the second step now… “So, try and keep up,” you told her, then raced away into the woods.

It must have caught her off-guard, because she immediately followed hot in pursuit. “Y/N!” It was like she hadn’t even thought about the fact that she was rushing into a game of Tag, like it was a mindless effort that sent her after you.

Her calls made you run faster, weaving through the trees like a trained dog in agility, and you let out a triumphant howl that sent the crows scattering into the night sky. In return, you actually got a few calls back from the werewolves scouting the forest as well. “Hey, Wednesday!” you hollered over your shoulder, “you think one of those is your roommate?!”

You could hear your girlfriend’s panting grow louder as she flanked you a few yards back. “No!” she answered, “Enid wouldn’t be caught dead in this kind of cold!”

“But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?!” Being an Addams gave you so much freedom to joke about death, considering you were already dead inside. It was meant to be.

“Not tonight, Y/N!”

You just laughed and raced on, filing deeper and farther into the world of forestry that almost shielded the moonlight. The wind seemed to be going 100 miles per hour against your skin, making a million scents bathe your tongue every time you breathed in. 

And then the scent of fur and fresh-kill caught your senses. You were gaining too close to the werewolves, so you figured this was a good place to stop.

Wednesday, on the other hand, didn’t have as keen a sense of smell, which kept her racing on. She couldn’t see you anymore, but she had done that dance before. The amount of times she’d run through this very forest was unimaginable, especially with a destination known or unknown in mind. She wasn’t afraid of running through the dark; however, the crisp cold air was taking a toll on her lungs. She called out for you, slowing down to catch her breath. “Y/N?!”

Compared to the way she’d sounded a few minutes ago, back at the dorm, she wasn’t so uptight about everything. And that was where you wanted her.

The raven slowed all the way, when she didn’t receive a response from you. She glanced around as she trotted forward. “Y/N?” Her panting was silenced among the breeze and so was your movement in the low branch of the nearest tree.

When she passed it, you grabbed her arm and pulled it towards the trunk. She yelped and spun around, yanking her arm away to look up and meet your golden eyes. “Sorry,” you giggled, releasing her to comb your wind-tossed hair back with one hand. 

Her voice went back to its natural, monotoned-self. “Why are you in a tree?”

“We’re too close to the werewolves,” you nearly whispered the explanation. Then, you held your hand out to her. “Come on, I’ll help you up.” 

The gold shimmer in your eyes struck the lightest reflection in hers as she took it and let you pull half of her weight up onto the same branch.

You knew she wasn’t the most comfortable person with heights without being guarded by some sort of railing, so you made sure she was steady before you continued to lead the way up. Being a vampire, your agility and strength were reliable. You could weave quicker through the limbs. And once you reached almost ¾-ths of the way up, you crouched to check on your girlfriend.

Despite her size and normal human strength, she actually kept up well, only being a few branches below. However, being the lady vampire you were, you had lived for a few centuries. So, chivalry was definitely not dead in your era, just evolved out of the strictly-male ideals. “Wednesday!” She paused her climbing to glance up at you, which made you hold your hand out to her again. “I got you.” The cold must have been biting at her because she grabbed your hand with no hesitation, and you lifted her up, wrapping one arm around her waist to safely bring her to your level. 

She wouldn’t admit it, but the raven was relieved that you had the decency to allow her to be closest to the tree trunk. She glanced down, almost nervously, but left it undetectable as she asked, “Is there any reason why you insist on being so high up?”

“No one can see us from up here.” 

She shifted skeptically. 

“I thought you liked being uncomfortable,” you smirked. You caught the way she curved her fingers into the bark, threatening to clutch it if the branch that held them teased a crack or two.

Wednesday gave a slightly flustered sigh. “The last time I was in a tree, things didn’t go so well.” When she looked your way again, the moon light dappling through the trees made her eyes show a shade of brown that wasn’t common in her natural aesthetic. 

It took some of the frost away from the cold that you didn’t realize you could feel until that deep gaze met yours. Her frame looked even smaller as she backed up to secure herself against the trunk, which you knew she did to brace herself in case anything happened. You softened your voice as you moved closer to her. “I won’t let you fall,” the words came so naturally, it was almost considered pure.

She blinked at you. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Y/N…” 

You stopped a short distance from her, close enough to see what she hoped you wouldn’t: her desire for comfort. You slid one hand around her waist and the other over her cheek to block the winter breeze. “Here’s my promise,” you whispered, then pulled her into a gentle kiss.

To your surprise, she fell into it instantly, almost as if she was thinking of the same thing. She must have felt secure in your arms, for she then put her arms around your torso. And through the kiss, you smiled. 

She pulled away. “Is that all you got?” she tested you, looking away and over your shoulder to bait you into moving elsewhere than her lips.

You took in a deep breath, and her scent was so strong that you could almost taste her… You felt your golden gaze start to burn and your mouth start to salivate. There was a surge of power that entwined your bloodstream, and the thrill to drink made you stare at her open neck. Well… almost open. “Are you teasing me, Ms. Addams?” you asked her as you dipped your head towards the crook of her neck and nosed her braid over her shoulder, fully exposing her warm skin. 

“Bite me, Y/LN,” she almost purred into your ear. It was supposed to be a tease, but it came out more as a command.

But it was your pleasure, regardless. “Not until we’re in bed, my cold-hearted darling,” you replied, then pressed your lips to her neck. It was hard not to bite her right now. Just a little taste of that sweet drink that came out of the most savage student in Nevermore Academy would have sufficed. But you wouldn’t. Not now. For now, you forced yourself to only kiss and suckle her skin in a slow trail down her neck, but you did manage to let your fangs nip her every now and then.

All the while, Wednesday laid her head on your shoulder, sighing through the treatment with small moans, while her black nails curled into your spine when your fangs would catch her soft skin. 

It was the perfect mix of Heaven and Hell.

It was angelic and demonic.

It was sweet and stubborn.

It was you and Wednesday…

On this one normal night.

merry christmas/happy holidays alk! i hope this made you smile and i'm wishing you a very pleasureable rest of the season. thank you for being such a supportive friend 🎄✨🎁

- parker (BWS)

[magic-shop-stories]

bts dad headcannon when their child comes out as gay

💌 Reply:

OMG, YES! I thought about this as well and I'm just so in love with your request - THANK YOU; THANK YOU; THANK YOU! I actually wanted to take a little writing break since I have so much to do and two major uni assignments I didnt even begin with yet (RIP) but I couldn't resist this one 🌈💜 Hope it's what you expected and you enjoy reading it Lots of Army LOVE - C -

NAMJOON

HOW HE FINDS OUT

Scenario 1

discovers a sketchbook left open on the coffee table

inside a detailed drawing of his child holding hands with someone of the same gender

labeled “Us Against the World”

his glasses fog up

he traces the lines with his thumb

carefully places the sketchbook back exactly as it was

Scenario 2

overhears his child rehearsing a conversation in their bedroom: 

“Dad, I’m gay. Dad, I’m... no, that sounds too formal. Ugh.” 

he lingers in the hallway

heart pounding

knocking softly

Scenario 3

his child writes him a letter and slips it into his favorite philosophy book

he finds it while annotating “The Art of Loving” 

reads it under his desk lamp

tears smudging the ink

INITIAL REACTION

Physical Cues

adjusts his glasses three times in rapid succession (a nervous tic)

its cross-legged on the floor to meet their eye level

knees cracking audibly

his voice wavers but stays steady: 

“This… this is sacred. Thank you for trusting me.”

First Words

“Love isn’t a debate. It’s a fact. And you’ve always been brilliant at facts.”

“Do you need me to listen, or would you prefer a Rumi quote? I’ve prepared both.”

THOUGHTS & FEELINGS

Internal Monologue

“Did I make our home a sanctuary? Or did they carry this alone?” 

stares at his parenting bookshelf at 2 AM

reorganizing it by “urgency”

texts Yoongi: 

“Hyung. What if I’m not enough for them?” 

Yoongi replies: 

“You’re their dad. That’s the job description.”

writes a poem in his journal: 

“My child’s heart is a galaxy - uncharted, infinite, mine to protect.”

Guilt/Pride Duality

buys a pride flag 

but hides it in his closet for a week

agonizing over “Is this supportive or performative?”

secretly researches PFLAG meetings

bookmarks “How to Advocate for LGBTQ+ Youth” on his phone

ACTIONS/COMFORT MOMENTS

Gifts with Meaning

leather-bound journal with their name embossed in gold

inside a handwritten note: 

“The world will try to edit your story. Never let it.”

vintage typewriter with a half-written poem loaded: 

“Chapter One: The Bravest Person I Know.”

a potted monstera plant: 

“It grows wild and unapologetic. Like you.”

Rituals of Reassurance

starts a “Midnight Philosophy Club”

hot cocoa, blankets, and deep talks under the stars

“Aristotles said… actually, forget him. You teach me tonight.”

takes them to a quiet art museum

lingering at abstract paintings

“See how colors clash? That’s where the magic is.”

Defense Mode

at a family gathering someone mutters: “It’s just a phase.” 

he calmly sets down his wine: 

“Phases are the moon’s business. We orbit love here.”

emails their school principal a 7-point list demanding LGBTQ+ inclusivity training, cc’ing the entire PTA

DAUGHTER vs. SON DIFFERENCES

Daughter

Comfort

buys her a custom necklace with a pendant shaped like a quill

“Write your own narrative.” 

takes her to a women-led bookstore for LGBTQ+ lit

Defense

interrupts a rude classmate’s parent at pickup: 

“Bigotry is the real ‘phase’ here. Grow up.”

Bonding

bakes banana bread together

dissecting “The Handmaid’s Tale”

“Rebellion tastes sweet, huh?”

Son

Comfort

gifts him a vintage bomber jacket

hidden inner patch: “Proud AF.” 

teaches him to fix a bike tire 

"...so you always have an escape route.”

Defense

shows up to his soccer game wearing a “Free Hugs” shirt

glaring at teammates who snicker

Bonding

hikes a mountain at dawn

at the peak, Namjoon mutters: 

“You’re my greatest climb.”

ARMY-EASTER EGGS

Banana Milk Spill

during a hug, he knocks over his drink

“Ah—symbolic! Growth requires… mess.”

Playlist Feels

creates a “Love Louder” playlist:

“Born This Way” (Lady Gaga) “Answer: Love Myself” (BTS) “She” (Harry Styles) / “He” (Jake Scott) depending on child’s preference

Secret Support

donates to the Trevor Project under the pseudonym “RM’s Kid” 

hangs the receipt on the fridge

“Quiet change matters too.”

GROWTH ARC (ANGST ➔ FLUFF)

Angst Phase

accidentally misgenders their partner

spends hours practicing in front of the mirror: 

“They. Them. They. Got it.”

writes a 10-page letter to HYBE’s legal team about “minor privacy rights” 

= after paparazzi snap a photo of his child

Fluff Phase

hosts a “Family Pride Picnic” in the park

packed with rainbow sandwiches, a Bluetooth speaker blasting “Firework”, and a “Free Dad Hugs” sign

drops them off at their first date

whispering: “Text me if you need an awkward philosopher rescue mission.”

JIN

HOW HE FINDS OUT

Scenario 1

during a Mario Kart showdown, his child pauses the game mid-race

“Appa… I need to tell you something.” 

Jin’s character drives off Rainbow Road as he mutters

“Oh shit, I’m losing and having a Moment™.”

Scenario 2

overhears their phone call with a friend: 

“I’m gonna come out to Dad tonight. He’ll probably make a dad joke and cry.” 

he pretends not to hear

then practices his response in the mirror for an hour

Scenario 3

finds a love letter in their backpack addressed to someone of the same name

instead of snooping, he leaves a note: 

“Your penmanship needs work. P.S. I’m always Team You.”

INITIAL REACTION

Physical Cues

drops his controller/spoon

“Wait—let me pose dramatically.” 

strikes a “Worldwide Handsome” stance to lighten the mood

pulls them into a theatrical hug

lifting them off the ground

“Group hug! Me, you, and my massive pride!”

First Words

“Cool! Does this mean I get two sons/daughters-in-law to spoil? Cha-ching!”

“You’re gay? Finally! Now we can argue over who’s hotter: Chris Evans or me.”

THOUGHTS & FEELINGS

Internal Monologue

“Did I joke too much? Do they think I’m not taking this seriously?” 

texts Namjoon: 

“Quick! Send me serious dad tips. EMERGENCY.”

secretly watches coming out compilations on YouTube

sobbing into a tissue: 

“Why am I crying? I’m the supportive one!”

Guilt/Pride Duality

buys a rainbow “#1 Ally” pin

agonizes over wearing it:

“Is this too extra? …Wait, I’m Jin. Nothing’s too extra.”

practices “I’m proud of you” in the mirror

then cringes:

“Ugh, too basic. Need more… Jin.”

ACTIONS/COMFORT MOMENTS

Gifts with Flair

custom pink gaming headset (matching his mic) with their name in glitter: 

“Now we can slay and slay together.”

“Worldwide Proud” hoodie with a cartoon

Jin winking

“Wear this when you need backup swag.”

tickets to a K-pop LGBTQ+ fan meeting & concert

“Let’s go judge everyone’s bias lists. Spoiler: Mine’s still the best.”

Rituals of Reassurance:

starts “Jin’s Joke Jar”

writes affirmations on paper slips

“Pull one when the world sucks. Guaranteed dad joke or life advice!” 

examples: 

“Why did the rainbow blush? Because it saw the gay agenda!”  “You’re my favorite human in HD.”

hosts a family gaming marathon with LGBTQ+ themed games (“Life is Strange”, “The Last of Us”)

“If Ellie can survive zombies, you can survive high school.”

Defense Mode

a dinner party, a relative scoffs, “It’s unnatural.” 

Jin deadpans:

“So is your hairline, but here we are.”

joins their school’s Discord to “accidentally” leak his own embarrassing childhood photos

diverting bullies’ attention

“Let them meme me instead.”

DAUGHTER vs. SON DIFFERENCES

Daughter

Comfort

takes her shopping for oversized hoodies “to steal later”

secretly buys her a BT21 RJ plush with a pride flag

“For emotional support and judging my dance moves.”

Bonding

hosts a makeover night with sheet masks and “RuPaul’s Drag Race”

“I’d slay as a queen. Fight me.”

Defense

crashes her school dance with a karaoke machine

singing “Born This Way” until the principal begs him to stop

Son

Comfort

teaches him self-defense moves using “dad reflexes”

“If anyone messes with you, tickle them. Works on Jungkook every time.”

Bonding

challenges him to games

then “accidentally” loses

“Oops! Guess you’re the carry now.”

Defense

shows up to his matches with a mega horn

blasting “Not Today” whenever opponents jeer

ARMY-EASTER EGGS

Pink Mic Parallel

gifts them a pink water bottle with “Hydrate or Jindrate” printed on it

Gaming Shoutouts

uses the username “Seokjin_ssi” in their multiplayer games

“Watch me Epic Victory Royal these homophobes.”

Secret Support

donates to It Gets Better Project under the alias “Mr. Worldwide Handsome” 

hangs the certificate in the bathroom

“Read it while you brush! Multitasking!”

GROWTH ARC (ANGST ➔ FLUFF)

Angst Phase

accidentally calls their crush “just a friend”

spends the night baking apology cookies shaped like rainbows

“I’m learning, okay? Here’s carbs.”

sneaks into their room at 3 AM to leave a handwritten letter: 

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like a joke. You’re my best punchline.”

Fluff Phase

co-hosts a charity livestream with them

playing Overwatch while raising funds for LGBTQ+ youth

“Donate or I’ll sing Super Tuna on loop!”

drops them off at prom with a “Good Luck” banner taped to the car

“Text me if you need a fake fire alarm rescue. I’ve got matches.”

YOONGI

HOW HE FINDS OUT

Scenario 1

overhears their child practicing a song they wrote in his home studio

lyrics include: “I’m tired of hiding in minor chords.” 

he pauses outside the door

hand frozen on the doorknob

then texts his manager: 

“Cancel my meetings. Family emergency.”

Scenario 2

finds a dog-eared notebook in his old high school box

left open to his child’s doodles: a basketball hoop with a pride flag net

stares at it

tucks it into his current work bag

Scenario 3

his child slips a note into his production notes: 

“Appa, I’m gay. P.S. Your coffee’s cold.”

reads it mid-session

saves the project file as “Proud.parenting.wav”

INITIAL REACTION

Physical Cues

nods silently, jaw tightening

rolls a basketball between his palms (his stress ball)

“You’re sure?” 

pauses

“Good. I’m sure too.”

if emotional: rubs his nape, avoiding eye contact

“I… need a minute.” 

returns with two cans of cold brew and a high school mixtape

First Words

“Life’s already hard enough. This? This is the easy part.”

“You know I wrote gay fanfiction in high school, right? No one bullies my kid but me.”

THOUGHTS & FEELINGS

Internal Monologue

“Should I tell them I get it? No. Privacy matters.” 

texts Namjoon: 

“How do I… parent right now?”

late-night studio session:

creates a hidden track titled “Answer: Love Yourself (Remix)” 

= their heartbeat sampled

Guilt/Pride Duality

digs out his old fanfiction (username: glossyWRITES)

considers burning it

“Nah. Growth.”

researches LGBTQ+ youth centers near his childhood Daegu home

donates anonymously

ACTIONS/COMFORT MOMENTS

Gifts with Edge

custom basketball with “Net Worth = You” printed

“Dunk on the haters. Literally.”

USB drive labeled “Track 08: Unreleased” 

containing a beat made from their laugh

“For when words fail.”

black hoodie with “민윤기’s Kid” embroidered in tiny rainbow thread

“Wear it or don’t. I would.”

Rituals of Reassurance

teaches them basketball drills at dawn

“Life’s a full-court press. Swish anyway.”

invites them to his studio

hands them the aux cord

“Play me your anthem. I’ll produce it.”

Defense Mode

at a TV host asks if he’s “disappointed”

he leans into the mic: 

“Next question. Or I’ll diss you in Daechwita 2.0.”

sends their school a cease-and-desist from HYBE’s lawyers over bullying

“Copyright claim on my kid’s happiness.”

DAUGHTER vs. SON DIFFERENCES

Daughter

Comfort

gifts her noise-canceling headphones: 

“Block the noise. I’ll handle the mess.” 

teaches her bass guitar to “channel rage into riffs.”

Bonding

late-night drives blasting “Seesaw”

“This song? Yeah, it’s about choices. Like choosing to be you.”

Defense

shows up to her art show with a hired bodyguard

“For the haters, not you. You’re the masterpiece.”

Son

Comfort

secretly enrolls him in boxing lessons

“Not to fight. To know you can.” 

leaves honey butter chips on his desk post-training

Bonding

plays 1v1 basketball

“accidentally” missing shots

“Old man joints. You win.”

Defense

leans against his locker

glaring at bullies

“I’ve got time. Try me.”

ARMY-EASTER EGGS

Studio Secrets

names a synth preset “My Child’s Voice” in his DAW

uses it in BTS’s next song

Basketball Nostalgia

wears his high school jersey to their games

number 3 for “third mixtape, third chance to be better”.

Fanfiction Nod

slips an old fanfic printout into their backpack

highlighted line: “Love isn’t a subplot.”

GROWTH ARC (ANGST ➔ FLUF)

Angst Phase

overhears them crying after a breakup

stands frozen in the hallwaw

fists clenched

texts Jin: 

“How do I… fix this?” 

Jin replies: 

“Just be there.”

writes a rap verse about fear of failure as a dad

deletes it immediately

“Too raw. Save it for them.”

Fluff Phase

surprises them with a collab with an LGBTQ+ artist they idolize

“You said you liked their vibe. I said let’s work.”

drops them off at a protest

hands them a megaphone

“Scream loud. I’ll handle the noise complaints.”

J-HOPE

HOW HE FINDS OUT

Scenario 1

notices his child borrowing his neon bucket hats and pride flag pins from his closet

instead of confronting them, he lays out a styling challenge: 

“Let’s revamp my wardrobe. You pick the fits.” 

midway, he grins: 

“The pink hair clip? Iconic. But it’d look better on you.”

Scenario 2

overhears them teaching a friend how to paint nails in his signature style

glitter gradients with tiny hearts

peeks in, holding a bottle of rainbow holographic polish: 

“Need a pro?”

Scenario 3

finds a draft text on their phone: 

“Appa, I’m gay. P.S. Your dance moves are still cringe.” 

leaves a sticky note on their mirror: 

“Correction: Iconic cringe. P.P.S. I love you.”

INITIAL REACTION

Physical Cues

claps hands once

loud and bright

“Okay! Okay! Let’s celebrate!” 

immediately plays “Chicken Noodle Soup” 

does a ridiculous shoulder shimmy

tears up but blinks rapidly

fanning his face with a sequined fan from his back pocket

“Allergies! Definitely allergies!”

First Words

“You’re my kid. Of course you’d come out in style.”

“I knew you were stealing my glitter! Parent intuition!”

THOUGHTS & FEELINGS

Internal Monologue

“Did I make enough space for them? Was my ‘vibe’ too loud?” 

texts Jimin: 

“Am I… too much?” 

Jimin replies: 

“You’re enough. Now go hug your baby.”

buys every pride-themed accessory online

panics: 

“Is this support or overkill? …Both. Both is good.”

Guilt/Pride Duality

rewatches their childhood dance video

wondering if he pushed his dreams onto them

creates a secret Pinterest board titled “Proud Dad Looks” with matching parent-child outfits

ACTIONS/COMFORT MOMENTS

Gifts with Glitter

customized jacket (for both of you)

“J-Hope’s #1 Fan” on the back

“#1 Dad/Child” on the front

“Wear it to the haters’ funerals.”

DIY nail art kit with his face on the lid

“For when you need sunshine on your fingertips.”

tickets to a queer dance festival

“We’re entering the parent-child duo category. Spoiler: We’ll win.”

Rituals of Reassurance

hosts a “Closet Raid Day”

style each other in outrageous outfits

then strut through the mall

“Confidence is couture, baby!”

teaches them his “Hope on the Street” moves

adapting the choreo to their comfort

“No rules. Just joy.”

Defense Mode

at a family gathering, a cousin sneers: “Isn’t this just a phase?” 

hewhips out his phone, blasting “Outro: Ego”: 

“Phase? This is a bop.”

floods their school’s Instagram with thirst traps to overshadow bully comments

“Let’s see them roast this jawline.”

DAUGHTER vs. SON DIFFERENCES 

Daughter

Comfort

hosts a “Glow-Up Night”

face masks, karaoke

teaching her to “walk in heels like a CEO”

“Stilettos are weapons. Wield them.”

Bonding

co-designs a pride-themed dance routine for TikTok

“We’re gonna break the algorithm AND hearts.”

Defense

storms into her school in a head-to-toe rainbow tracksuit to confront a teacher

“You got a problem? Battle me.”

Son

Comfort

surprises him with gender-neutral streetwear from his favorite brand

“Swag doesn’t care about labels.”

Bonding

takes him thrifting for oversized hoodies and vintage band tees

“Distressed fabric = distressed haters.”

Defense

joins his gaming livestream with a sign: 

“Proud Dad Alert! Donate to GLAAD or perish.”

ARMY-EASTER EGGS

Hope World Nods

gifts them a neon fanny pack 

stuffed with peach emoji stickers and a mixtape USB titled “Hope World: Parental Guidance Edition”

Dance Legacy

sneaks their signature move into BTS’s choreography

“Look closely at Boy With Luv… That’s your flair.”

Mic Toss Energy

replaces their room’s lightswitch with a pink glitter cover

“Every time you turn it on, remember: You’re the light.”

GROWTH ARC (ANGST ➔ FLUF)

Angst Phase:

accidentally misgenders their partner

spends the night baking rainbow macarons as apology

“I’m learning. Here’s sugar and shame.”

finds them crying to “Blue Side”

sits silently

handing them his lucky bandana to wipe tears

“I’m here. Always.”

Fluff Phase

organizes a flash mob at HYBE with BTS’s/ his backup dancers

“Surprise! Your dad’s extra.”

drops them off at prom with a disco ball necklace

“If anyone’s rude, blinding them is self-defense.”

JIMIN

HOW HE FINDS OUT

Scenario 1

happens during a late-night movie marathon

they pause “Love, Simon” 

whisper: “Appa… that’s me.” 

Jimin freezes

then pulls them into his lap like he did when they were small

stroking their hair

Scenario 2

finds their sketchbook open to a self-portrait with a pride flag painted over their heart

he traces the lines with his finger

tears smudging the charcoal

Scenario 3

overhears them practicing “I’m gay” to a mirror

he leans against the doorframe

arms crossed, smiling softly

 “Your pronunciation’s perfect. Proud.”

INITIAL REACTION

Physical Cues

eyes well up instantly

lip trembling

“Come here. Come here.” 

pulls them into a back-breaking hug

swaying side-to-side

whispers into their hair: 

“My baby. My brave, beautiful baby.” 

voice cracks on “brave.”

First Words

“You’re my heart. Nothing changes that. Nothing.”

“Thank you. For trusting me. For… existing.”

HOUGHTS & FEELINGS

Internal Monologue

“Did I hug them enough? Did they ever feel small because of me?” 

texts Taehyung: 

“What if I failed them?” 

Tae replies: 

“You’re their safe place. Always.”

writes a letter he’ll never send: 

“I spent years hating my body. Let me love yours enough for both of us.”

Guilt/Pride Duality

buys every LGBTQ+ YA novel he can find

dog-earing pages with lines he wants to discuss

secretly researches PFLAG meetings but attends virtually in a disguise 

ACTIONS/COMFORT MOMENTS

Gifts with Grace:

bracelet with a charm shaped like a shield

“To remind you: I’m your armor.”

blanket embroidered with “You Are Enough” in his handwriting

“Wrap yourself in this when the world is cold.”

self-care kit with his favorite lavender oil, a Serendipity playlist, and a jade roller

“For when your heart feels heavy.”

Rituals of Reassurance:

starts “Cuddle Therapy Sundays”:

nestled on the couch

he lets them pick the movie while he braids their hair or rubs their back

“No talking. Just feel.”

teaches them breathing exercises from his trainee days

“Inhale love, exhale fear. Again.”

Defense Mode

at a school event, a parent mutters “sin.” 

Jimin steps forward, smile icy

“I’d pray for you, but I’m too busy worshipping my child.”

pays for a billboard near their school: 

“Proud Parent Alert! 🏳️🌈” 

has his phone number on it (fake - goes straight to a LQBTQ+ donation hotline)

“Complaints? Call me.”

DAUGHTER vs. SON DIFFERENCES

Daughter

Comfort

takes her to a dance class for queer teens

“Move like nobody owns you.” 

twirls her until she laughs

Bonding

co-writes a poem titled “The Language of My Body"

reads it aloud at an open mic, holding her hand

Defense

storms into a store where a clerk misgenders her

buys everything in her cart

demands the clerk apologize

Son

Comfort

gifts him a weighted blanket

sits with him during panic attacks

“Your strength is quiet. I’m here for it.”

Bonding

teaches him stretching routines to ease dysphoria

“Your body is yours. Treat it kindly.”

Defense

joins his gaming stream with a “Proud Dad” username

donating thousands to shut down trolls

ARMY-EASTER EGGS

Serendipity Symbolism

adds a butterfly charm to their bracelet

“Like the song. You are my serendipity.”

Lie Detector

recreates his “Lie” MV makeup on them for pride

“Now you’re art and truth.”

Promise Rings

wears a matching mother-of-pearl ring 

“Forever connected. No take-backs.”

GROWTH ARC (ANGST ➔ FLUFF)

Angst Phase

overhears them criticizing their body in the mirror

interrupts

voice shaking: 

“I see perfection. Let me… show you.”

writes a verse about his parenting fears

then burns it

“Ash to growth.”

Fluff Phase

dances with them at pride

both wearing matching crop tops

“They said ‘cover up.’ We said sparkle.”

surprises them with a custom song produced by Yoongi and him

lyrics: “You’re the chorus to my verse. Always.”

TAEHYUNG

HOW HE FINDS OUT

Scenario 1

discovers his child’s secret Instagram account 

filled with self-portraits in drag-inspired makeup

Taehyung screenshots their favorite look

texts: “Need a wig consultant? Asking for a friend.”

Scenario 2

finds a crumpled note in their jacket pocket: 

“I’m gay. But what if Appa hates me?”

slips it into his vintage camera case

takes them on a photo walk to “accidentally” capture rainbow graffiti

Scenario 3

overhears them humming “Sweet Night” while sketching a queer retelling of The Little Prince

leans over their shoulder: 

“The rose would’ve slayed in drag.”

 INITIAL REACTION

Physical Cues

gasps dramatically

clutching his chest

“You’re gay?! Finally someone to raid my glitter stash!” 

pulls them into a hug

nuzzling their hair

whispers “My little Picasso” while wiping away a tear

First Words

“You’re my masterpiece. This is just another brushstroke.”

“Remember when I dressed as a mermaid for Halloween? This is way cooler.”

THOUGHTS & FEELINGS

Internal Monologue

“Do they know I get it? Should I tell them about my drag phase? No—their story first.” 

texts Jimin: 

“How do I glitter-parent? HELP.”

digs out his old drag king sketches from high school

smiling at the memory

“Maybe we can revamp these together.”

Guilt/Pride Duality

buys every issue of "Queer Eye" 

leaves them stacked in their room

“For research. Totally not obsessed.”

practices pronouns in the mirror: 

“They/them. They/them. They/them.”

ACTIONS/COMFORT MOMENTS

Gifts with Glam

vintage leather jacket from his closet

lined with a pride flag

“Wear it like armor. Or just to look cool.”

polaroid camera and a scrapbook titled “The Art of Being You”

“Document your glow-up. I’ll handle the captions.”

tickets to a drag brunch

“We’re both getting makeovers. No excuses.”

Rituals of Reassurance

hosts “Vante Vision Board Nights”:

collages of queer icons, glitter, and magazine cutouts

“Manifest your fiercest self.”

teaches them film photography in abandoned theaters

capturing their “coming out” journey in moody monochromes

Defense Mode

at a family dinner, an uncle scoffs: “Why the theatrics?” 

Taehyung stands, adjusting his beret: 

“Why the boredom?” 

drops a pride flag on the table as a centerpiece

collaborates with a queer artist to paint a mural on their school wall

“Vandalism? No. Artistic justice.”

DAUGHTER vs. SON DIFFERENCES

Daughter

Comfort

takes her thrifting for ’70s bell-bottoms and sequined tops

“Channel your inner Bowie. I’ll be your Iman.”

Bonding

hosts a “Runway Night” in their living room

struts in his old drag king suit

she wears his CELINE heels

Defense

storms into her school play wearing a “Proud Dad of a Diva” shirt

heckles anyone who dares yawn

Son

Comfort

gifts him a saxophone (because jazz = freedom)

“Blow away the blues. I’ll dance.”

Bonding

binge-watches queer cinema classics.

cries at “Moonlight”

“This is us, baby.”

Defense

joins his matches as coach

substituting bullies with pride flag cones

“New rule: Love scores.”

ARMY-EASTER EGGS

Drag King Nods

gifts them a fake mustache as an insider joke

“For when you need mystique.”

Vante Vibes

sneaks a grayscale photo of them into his art exhibit

caption: “My Muse in Living Color.”

Jazz Soul

plays “Singularity” on loop during heart-to-hearts

“This song? Yeah, it’s about owning your shadows.”

GROWTH ARC (ANGST ➔ FLUF)

Angst Phase

overhears them crying after a date gone wrong

sits outside their door, humming “Winter Bear” until they let him in

“I’m here. Always.”

accidentally misgenders their crush

bakes apology croissants 

leaves a note: “Flaky outside, soft inside. Like me and you.”

Fluff Phase

surprises them with a collab photoshoot for a queer magazine

“You’re the star. I’m just the groupie.”

drops them off at prom in a vintage convertible, blasting “Dynamite”

“If anyone’s rude, dance harder.”

JUNGKOOK

HOW HE FINDS OUT

Scenario 1

discovers bandages in their trash bin

they’ve been distant for week

his hands shake

he Googles “how to help LGBTQ+ kids” at 3 AM

texts Jin: 

“Hyung. Emergency. What do I do?”

Scenario 2

paparazzi photos surface of his child holding hands with their same-gender crush

Jungkook storms out of a photoshoot

speeding to their school in his blacked-out car to shield them from cameras

Scenario 3

finds them curled up in his old BTS concert hoodie

silent for days

sits cross-legged on the floor

voice cracking: 

“Talk to me. Please. I’ll learn whatever I need to.”

INITIAL REACTION

Physical Cues

Angst

paces the room

running hands through his hair

“I should’ve noticed. I should’ve...” 

texts Namjoon: 

“Did I fail them?”

Fluff

pulls them into a bear hug

lifting them off the ground

“You’re safe. I’ll fight the world.”

First Words

“You’re my baby. That’s the only label that matters.”

“Who hurt you? Tell me. I’ll… I’ll learn archery.” 

stares at his Bulletproof tattoo

THOUGHTS & FEELINGS

Internal Monologue

“Why didn’t they tell me? Am I scary?” 

calls Jimin, whispering: 

“Hyung, how do I… soften?”

buys pride merch but hides it

worried it’s “too much”

Yoongi advises: 

“Just be you. They’ll know it’s real.”

Guilt/Pride Duality:

practices “I’m proud of you” in sign language after learning their crush is Deaf

“They’ll feel it if I mess up.”

tattoos a semicolon behind his ear

“Your story isn’t over. I’m here.”

ACTIONS/COMFORT MOMENTS

Gifts with Meaning

custom gaming PC with a rainbow-lit keyboard

“For when words are hard. Game with me.”

matching tattoo of their initials in rainbow

“You’re my bullseye. Always.”

a rescue puppy named Hope

“Now you’ve got two golden retrievers.” 

points to himself

Rituals of Reassurance

teaches them self defense at dawn

“Focus on the target. Ignore the noise.”

creates a “Safe Word” system:

if they text “Magic Shop”, he drops everything to pick them up

Defense Mode

Media Exposure

hires HYBE’s legal team to sue the paparazzi

release a vlog titled “Proud Dad” trending #1 worldwide

Bullying

shows up to their school in his MMA gear

glaring at teachers

“Protect my kid or I’ll.”

 DAUGHTER vs. SON DIFFERENCES

Daughter

Comfort

takes her camping to stargaze

“The universe made you perfect. Argue with the stars.”

Bonding

bakes rainbow cake while blasting “Euphoria”

“Sweetness beats bitterness. Every time.”

Defense

buys her a self-defense ring

“Press this if anyone’s rude. I’ll handle the police.”

Son

Comfort

bonds over weightlifting

“Strength isn’t for them. It’s for you.”

Bonding

co-writes a song about resilience

Jungkook raps: 

“My son’s a king. Bow down.”

Defense

joins his gaming stream

donating $10k to shut down trolls 

“GG, haters. Dad’s richer.”

ARMY-EASTER EGGS

Golden Touch

gifts them a gold chain to match his own

“Wear it when you need to shine.”

Tattoo Tribute

adds a rainbow heart to his sleeve tattoo

“For you. My STAR.”

Mixtape Feels

makes them a playlist titled “My Time (But Yours)” 

includes songs like “Love Myself” and “Zero O’Clock”.

GROWTH ARC (ANGST ➔ FLUF)

Angst Phase

accidentally smothers them with too much protection

texts Taehyung: 

“How do I not hover?” 

Tae replies: 

“Breathe. Trust them.”

finds their journal entry: 

“I’m a burden.” 

cries into Hobi’s shoulder: 

“How do I fix this?”

Fluff Phase

surprises them with a family trip to Jeju

builds a bonfire, roasting marshmallows

“You’re my light. Always.”

drops them off at college with a care package:

ramyeon, bandaids

a note: “Text ‘Magic Shop’ and I’ll fly there.”

[lostsyren]

࿐ angelic

{summary: rafe muses on sofia and her duality}

{a/n: idek what this is, i just think it’s so them}

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Angel.

That’s what he thought of Sofia as sometimes. (A lot of the time.)

It was in the way her eyes had a heavenly quality to them– they existed in multitudes. Sometimes they looked green, like two drops of absinthe he’d do anything to swallow. Sometimes they looked brown– warm and alluring, gazing up at him with such trust. And occasionally, bathed in the honeyed glow of the lamp, her body sprawled languidly underneath his, her eyes flashed gold, as if her irises bled divinity.

“What are you looking at,” she’d tease, poking his cheek playfully.

Rafe would shake his head. (Shake away his thoughts too.)

He was corrupting her. Sullying her. Rafe Cameron was an evil, ruinous force. That’s what everyone thought, right? He’d break her. Her dainty, porcelain bones. Her neat, little wrists. Her slender, stalk-like shoulder blades.

“Nothing,” he’d mumble, quick to pull himself off of her.

But she’d resist, hooking her arms around his neck and anchoring him in place.

“Let’s just stay like this for a while,” she’d whisper, in that raspy drawl of hers that sent flutters down his abdomen.

“You sure? I’m not hurting you, am I?”

She’d laugh melodiously, not saying anything– just pulling him into an ardent kiss and slipping her tongue in between his lips.

But she wasn’t angelic all the time. There was a mean streak to her that she kept hidden. He was surprised the first time she yelled at him. (He couldn’t imagine those lips of hers do anything but smile at him coyly.) So when she bit back with a scalding retort, mouth curled in disdain, Rafe was caught off guard.

“You think that’s funny Rafe? You’re being a jerk– cut it out.”

He made an off hand comment about pogues– it was meant to be a joke. But Sofia clearly was opposed to it.

Rafe quickly learned of her righteousness. Her red, hot virtue.

When club goers wronged her colleagues she’d defend them with a spitting tongue. When he’d accidentally misplace his rage on to her, she’d reflect it right back at him, mirroring his vitriol.

Sofia saw the balance in things and their innate goodness. So when the scales shifted, weighed down by injustice, she acted. Awash in a bright, white halo.

Angels are not good creatures. They’re not spurred by kindness or gentleness. They instead act decisively– impelled by a blazing, blinding morality. And if that moral obligation meant carnage, be it for Sofia or for Rafe, well then, destruction was imminent.

This is what Rafe thought when he realised Sofia cheated him out of 400k. Was stealing not a sin? How would she balance the scales when it was she who tipped them over?

Despite all this, Rafe couldn’t help but feel he did something wrong. (He was the evil one after all.)

Though her betrayal was like a freshly opened wound, he still couldn’t scrub the image of her in his mind: angelic and good, gleaming and divine. Her golden body like marble, carved from devotion. Her aureate eyes like two discs plucked from a scale. (Everytime he thought about how he spoke to her on the phone he recoiled.)

She wouldn’t do this for no reason. Something pushed her to deceive him, like Judas pressing a kiss across his cheek.

But who was the betrayer?

What had Rafe done to deserve her righteous fury? Beacause if there was one thing Rafe knew about Sofia, his beautiful, heavenly girl, was that her wrath was never undue.

She was an angel– not a monster. (Unlike him.)

Rafe sat by himself on the searing Moroccan sands, gazing out to the vast, empty sky. (God, he missed her.)

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