#okay but joking aside this is delightful

[secret-third-thing]

Pirates of the Caribbean where Azriel is Jack Sparrow and Eris is Norrington and they slowly fall in love as they chase each other across the Atlantic 🥺

Greta. GRETA!!!

[lillikitty]

BSD Men favorite thing about you HC

Featuring: Dazai, Chuuya, Atsushi, Akutagawa, Fyodor

Osamu Dazai

Your body.

Yes yes, looks aren’t everything but he absolutely worships your body.

Whether you’re skinny, curvy, he loves everything about your body.

Your chest, your hips, your legs, your ass. He loves everything about you and he can’t see any imperfection.

He is actively always trying to kiss anywhere he can. His favorite is to give you raspberries on your tummy. He loves how you giggle.

But he also loves covering your body in marks, hickeys, anything that shows others that you belong to him.

“You’re so beautiful bella, the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen!”

Chuuya Nakahara

Your hair

He loves playing with your hair, it’s his favorite thing to do.

He often asks to style it, your hair is just perfect and it listens to him unlike his hair.

He loves how soft it is, how easily he can run his fingers through it.

When you’re cuddling in bed he almost always playing with it.

And when you’re making out? Oh his hand never leaves your hair. It’s always on the back of your head, gripping it and sometimes tugging it to get those delightful sounds out of you.

“You should let me braid your hair today. It’ll look beautiful, trust me.”

Atsushi Nakajima

Your kindness

He’s never met anyone as kind as you. Someone willing to put their own needs aside for someone else.

You’re always willing to help him, always willing to brighten his day.

He watches you with a lovestruck gaze as you help nurse a baby bird back to health.

Someone as kind as you is truly and angel, he doesn’t believe you’re simply a human. You must be from a higher place, he’s blessed to have you.

He always tries to treat you with the same amount of kindness you treat him with, but he can just never seem to match you, and that’s okay. He’s just happy to have you in his life.

“You’re an angel, the sweetest angel ever.”

Ryunosuke Akutagawa

Your laugh

It was a complete accident when he made you laugh. He didn’t even say anything funny but you just started laughing.

It was the most angelic sound he’d ever heard. Better than any symphony. He couldn’t even describe it.

He didn’t even know he could make someone laugh but now he’s always trying to make you laugh, though his actual attempts at jokes aren’t funny, you laugh anyways at his awkwardness.

He always stares at you when you laugh like he’s mesmerized.

He even starts to smile every time he makes you laugh as he can’t contain the emotions he’s feeling.

“Your laugh is pretty…”

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Your touch

You have such a gentle touch, never once has he felt in danger when you touch him.

Your skin is so soft, softer than anything he’s ever felt.

He loves it when you cup his face in your hands. He always leans into you when you do it.

He always wants to hold your hand and give it plenty of kisses. Something this soft must be cherished.

You’re the only one who can touch him without dying. He would never pass up the opportunity to feel your touch.

“Don’t ever let me go dove.”

[sincerelyyycece]

hey, are u still there?...good.

Y/N inevitably finds themselves settling into James's backburner.

note: modern au, inspired by niki's song, "backburner.", lily evans is briefly mentioned, here's what i promised you guys mwa mwa!

sincerelyyycece © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

Y/N had always been the "backburner," the second choice, especially James’s second choice. She was the one he turned to when his first plans fell through—the one who was always there but never the priority. She was used to it and had grown comfortable in the role.

Right now, she's sent at least 15 messages to him.

Hey?

Can we meet up? I have some great news to tell you.

Hellooo.

You're probably busy. Text me when you can.

James?  Did something happen?

Nevermind, I'm probably overthinking it.

I'll just tell you here.

I got the internship :)

Delivered. Gazing at her screen, she sighed with a sense of familiarity. This repetitive pattern felt more like a routine or a game to her. The 'How long till he talks to me again?' Game, as she calls it. Setting her phone aside, she sought distraction from the mundane task of doing laundry.

A moment later, her phone chimed, drawing her attention. With a swift motion, she turned towards it. Hastily, she wiped her damp hands and cleared her throat before uttering, "Hello?" On the other end, she could hear faint shuffling before a familiar voice greeted her, "Hey, Angel." The affectionate nickname warmed her heart. "Just got your text. Congratulations!" he exclaimed. A soft "thank you" escaped her lips in response. His greeting sent a wave of warmth through her. "Apologies for not replying sooner. I was with..." He paused, clearing his throat. Her mood dimmed at the mention of another name. "With someone. I was with someone.”

Lily, always the first choice, James's top priority, the standard against which she measures herself. "Yeah, sure," she responded, lacking enthusiasm. "Mm-hmm," he trailed off. "So, do you want to celebrate? We could go out to eat or stay in and watch a movie," he suggested. "I'm not really feeling up to it right now. I'm pretty tired." There was a rustling sound on the phone once more. "Look, if this is about earlier, I apologize, alright?" he said. "Lily had some things going on and wanted to meet up, so we did." There it was again. Everything revolves around Lily.

"Um, yeah, I understand," she stuttered, trying to articulate her thoughts. "It's not that, James. I'm just exhausted from chores," she explained, glancing subtly at her unfinished laundry pile. "Y/N, come on. Let me make it up to you," he pleaded earnestly. "Pretty please," he persisted. She shook her head, amused, and relented, saying, "Okay, okay." Through the phone, she could hear his small yet enthusiastic 'yes.' "Order some takeout. We'll have a cosy night in with a movie," she suggested. "Yes, ma'am. I'm on my way," he joked lightly. "Take care." With that, she hung up and returned immediately to her laundry task.

Following that day, they continued hanging out. She pondered over the abrupt shift in their dynamic. It was uncharacteristic for her, yet she relished every moment spent with him. He delighted her by taking her to places she longed to visit and presenting her with gifts tailored to her preferences. He seemed to be doing everything right. However, as she prepared for a movie night tonight, a disheartening text message appeared on her phone. Hey, something came up. I have to reschedule. Sorry. She sighed, feeling a tinge of disappointment. Perhaps she should have anticipated this turn of events.

Sure, we can reschedule. she replied, her eyes brimming with tears. As they cascaded down her cheeks that night, she found herself immersed in a sea of sorrow. The following morning, she anticipated a message from him, but none arrived. Disheartened once more, she resolved not to reach out again. Days turned into weeks, with silence echoing his absence. It seemed as though he had vanished from her world. Or so she believed. Suddenly, her phone interrupted her reading, and without lifting her gaze from the book, she answered, "Hello?”

"Hey, are you still there?” echoed the familiar voice in her ears. Pausing, she glanced at the caller's ID. 'James :)' flashed on the screen. With a soft hum, she replied. His sigh reached her ears before he responded, "Good." Once more, she felt relegated to the sidelines in his priorities or had she truly ever moved from that place? Despite the familiar sting of disappointment, Y/N responded, "Yeah, I'm still here, James." His sigh of relief was almost audible across the line, and for a fleeting moment, she felt herself soften.

"I'm sorry, Angel," he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of regret and something else she couldn't quite place. "I've been...busy." Busy, always busy. But she knew what that meant. Lily. Yet, she found herself replying, "It's okay, James. I understand." She knew she was settling for less, allowing herself to be on the backburner once again. But the truth was, she couldn't help it. She was drawn to him, like a moth to a flame, willingly choosing to dance on the edges of his life, even if it meant getting burned time and time again.

So, she swallowed back the hurt and disappointment, offering him a smile he couldn't see. "We can catch up soon, okay?" She suggested, her voice steady. There was a brief silence before he answered, "Yeah, that sounds good. I'll see you soon, Angel." With that, the call ended, leaving her with the familiar echoes of his promises. She sat alone in the silence of her room, her heart heavy yet hopeful. As she closed her eyes, she knew, deep down, that she was still James's second choice, his backburner. But for now, for better or worse, that was a role she was willing to play.

[barcaatthemoon]

tiny prancer || alanna kennedy x reader ||

you talk to alanna about your feelings after watching her play with harper.

"higher! higher!" your eyes drifted away from the interviewer once again as you heard harper's shrill shrieks of delight. she had been devastated whenever she saw you on the pitch, but had been immediately told that you were busy by gorry. luckily, alanna had swooped right in and picked the girl up before her pout could dissolve into a fit of tears. and now, you were swooning while trying to complete your media stuff for the day.

"sorry, sorry. this has been a hard comeback, but i'm grateful for my manchester family. i'd hate to give united their props, but those girls have also been so supportive. for our rivalry to be put aside, it means a lot. i'm very thankful for so many of my fellow players in the league from teams all over the country," you said. it was a good answer, one that people could tell came from the heart.

you had been away for nearly a year after a huge injury and bigger setback. it had truly been a freak accident, your knee giving out on you and the subsequent fall breaking your leg as you fell. there hadn't been any dirty tackles, and aside from alanna, the first person who had been at your side had been a manchester united player. some of those girls had really become some of your best friends when you needed a break from your teammates.

"well, everybody is excited to see you come back on the pitch this weekend. it has been overdue, and if the practice footage from this week is anything to go by, you're definitely in top form." you thanked the interviewer for their kind words before both of you were dismissed. almost immediately, you turned and jogged over to where alanna and harper were playing.

"do you have room for one more?" you asked. as into playing with alanna harper had been, she was quick to go to you. it had been hard for you not being able to play, but still going to practices over the course of the year, and harper was a big part of that. gorry had joked that you and alanna were like her other mothers, something that had always caused alanna to tense up a bit. although, you had noticed that she had seemed more okay with the joke, occasionally having a longing look on her face for the next week or so.

"of course we do, don't we harper? we always have room for prancer, don't we?" you rolled your eyes at the nickname alanna had not-so lovingly given you back at youth camp in australia. truthfully, the two of you had legitimately hated each other a little bit back then, but both of you had done a lot of growing up since then.

"we love prancer," harper said. you knew that she had probably been working on that for a while. harper had never called you that without alanna being directly beside her. alanna nudged her side, and harper stood up to give you a hug. "do you get to play at the game?"

"i do for a little bit, so i can't sit with you on the bench at first, but they don't want to hurt me again, so i'll probably be there for the second half," you told her. harper pouted a little, but she understood. there had been several long talks about you going back on the pitch where you belonged.

harper wordlessly handed you a doll to play with, explaining much better than alanna tried to what was happening. that game didn't last very long due to alanna's antsiness. the three of you played a game of tag, which ended with alanna and harper ganging up on you. alanna picked you up in her arms, gently placing you on the ground where she peppered your face and neck in kisses while harper tickled at your sides until gorry came to get her.

"i was nervous when we got here," you admitted. alanna knew it already, but you had been stubborn in insisting that you were fine. "everybody always says they can't wait for someone else to make their return, but i know what they weren't saying."

"don't think about it like that, okay? think about other things like how harper and i kicked your ass at tag," alanna joked. you punched her in the shoulder, earning you a bite to the thigh. "be nice. if harper sees you being mean to me, she'll think it's okay. i swear that kid loves you more than anybody else sometimes."

"we've become bench buddies, that's all. i bet when we have a kid, they'll love you the most. you'll get to be the fun parents, and i'll have to be strict," you sighed. alanna shot up and stared down at you, a confused, yet hopeful look on her face. "what?"

"what did you say?" alanna asked. you shrugged as you moved up onto your elbows. "you said 'when' not 'if' we have a kid. d-do you want to have kids with me?"

"kids? someone is getting ahead of themselves, but yeah, of course i do. i've been thinking about it, and seeing you with harper confirms it. before you came along and fucked everything up for my little 14 year old self, i was going to accept a promise ring from a boy. who knows how many kids i'd have now?" you said.

"i like the idea of a bunch of little prancers running around, but only if they've got the last name kennedy," alanna said. she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. you kissed her back, smiling into it a little. "how long have you wanted little kennedy babies?"

"alanna, don't," you tried, but it was too late. she was on something trying to get this out of you. truthfully, it had been before you were even injured, but you knew that you had been lucky then if alanna wanted to admit you were exclusively together at that point. she had fancied herself a player, something that only got worse whenever leila arrived at the club and they became friens.

"come on, i deserve to know. maybe if i've kept you waiting, i'll be sweet," alanna offered. you knew that she would be extremely sweet, but you'd have to get through the annoying phase first.

"fine, the first camp that i said we were together and harper was there. all the girls kept making fun of me because trying to tie you down was still a 'lost cause' or something," you said. alanna did the math in her head. you could tell whenever she had gotten there because a smile broke out on her face. "please don't be an ass about this, okay?"

"you thought i'd be a good parent back then?" alanna asked. you shrugged, unsure of what you had really thought. you just knew that you trusted alanna and wanted to do something special with her. "wow, maybe you really did love me back then too."

"of course i did. alanna, i've never been someone who could sleep with anybody i didn't love." you looked away from her, slightly ashamed of yourself. the girls had teased you a lot about your body count, which was the girl you made yourself fall for to forget about alanna hating you, and alanna herself. they had sort of thought you were joking, especially alanna, until you blew up at them for making fun of you.

"well then, i feel honored to be your person. and as much as i'd love to go to the doctor now and try to get you pregnant, your parents, gorry, and macca would kill me if i did," alanna pointed out. "so, what do we do?"

"let me play this season, and if things don't physically feel right in that way, we can look to starting a family sooner. we don't have to do this any other way than the one we want, remember that." you cradled alanna's face and pressed a kiss to her nose. despite the fact that you wanted a baby then and there, you were fine with waiting until alanna felt more comfortable.

[writingforstraykids]

Always back to you - Chp.5

Pairing: single!dad!Minho x male!Reader (Chanlix | OT8

Word Count: 6696

Summary: Just as everything seems to go well a call from the past messes with Minho's mind. His ex is set on getting her son back, ready to destroy everything you've built.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, date night, yejun's a bitch

A/N: Thank you for all the love so far for little Minjun and his family🤭🖤

PART FOUR | PART SIX

Minho stretches his tired body, glancing over at you in the corner of the room. You're currently taking some calls to sort out Chan's upcoming schedules, and he can't bite back a small smile while watching you. After your fight, Chan made you stay by making you responsible for his own schedule and wanting to keep you around. 

They're taking a short break from practice, and Minho is glad to rest his body for a bit. He glances around the room and frowns as he can't find Minjun and his current assistant. “Y/nnie?” he asks gently as you end your call. “Where's our boy?”

“O-Our-,” you stammer, eyes widening at him. 

The silence that follows is loud. Around the room, heads turn, the abrupt outburst of movement marking a collective interest in the unfolding drama, or rather, the slip of the tongue that Minho just let loose. The members, more or less familiar with the private dynamics slowly simmering between you and Minho, can hardly contain their amusement.

"Did Minho just say 'our boy'?" Jisung repeats, his voice teasing as he nudges Chan with his elbow, a knowing grin spreading across his face.

Chan doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, Minho, since when did Y/nnie and you start sharing custody?” he chimes in, laughter tinting his voice as he looks over at you both, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Minho, usually so composed, feels a warm flush spreading up his neck, coloring his cheeks as he meets your startled gaze. He hadn’t even realized what he'd said until it was echoed back to him, and now, caught in the playful teasing of his friends, he finds himself grappling for a response.

"I just meant—" Minho starts, trying to backpedal, but Felix cuts him off, practically bouncing in his seat with delight.

"Aww, look at him! He’s embarrassed! Minho hyung, it’s cute, really. Embrace the family vibes!" Felix teases, his voice light and teasing.

You, still slightly flustered by Minho’s unexpected inclusivity, try to regain your composure. "Minjun is just with Hyejin," you manage to say, redirecting the conversation to the young boy's whereabouts. They went somewhere else to play. He should be nearby."

Yet, the teasing doesn’t stop there. Throughout the rest of the break, the members throw in casual jokes about family planning and shared parenting. Their banter is light but pointed, a humorous acknowledgment of the evolving relationship dynamics within their circle.

As the laughter and jokes continue, Minho finds himself looking over at you, and something about your shy smile, the way you're trying to hide your own amusement, settles the warmth in him more firmly. It's a reassurance, a silent acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t misspeak after all.

As practice resumes and the members scatter back to their positions, Minho pulls you aside for a quick, private word, his expression earnest. "Hey, about earlier," he begins, his tone soft, apologetic. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It just... came out."

You shake your head, dismissing his concern with a gentle smile. "It’s okay, Minho. Really, it was sweet," you assure him, your voice just as soft. "I guess it’s just a bit new to me, but not unwelcome."

Minho’s eyes search yours, looking for any sign of discomfort. Finding none, he allows himself a small, relieved smile. "It felt right," he admits. You already feel like family, you know?” 

The word 'family' hangs between you, a weighty yet comforting promise of what’s slowly knitting together. 

"Thank you, Minho," you reply, your heart light, warmed by the sincerity of the moment. "That means a lot to me. I'll go check on him, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he nods, watching you leave. 

As soon as you leave, Changbin asks, “Do you know Minjun's new nickname for Y/nnie?” 

“Huh?” Minho frowns at him, grabbing his bottle of water. 

“He called him his new mum,” he laughs, and Minho's blush deepens. “He also said you're like Lix and Chan hyung.”

“Oh, you can't tell only half of the story,” Jisung protests. He added, “He said you're kissing like Chan and Lix.” 

Minho chokes on his water, tears shooting to his eyes as he coughs. Seungmin pats his back forcefully and starts laughing at him. “He what?” he wheezes, trying to catch his breath. 

“Yeah, he even showed Chan hyung that it's not on the cheek but on the lips,” Changbin snickers. 

Minho blushes furiously before dropping back onto the floor with a groan. “Well, he's not lying,” he says, and his friends start laughing. Minho inhales shakily, keeping his eyes on the floor. “I still don't know if it's a good idea. I don't want to pull him into the public aspect of my life. I'm also not quite sure if I'm what he needs,” he admits, and they all grow quiet again. “There's a lot of bullshit in the back of my mind about what happened with Yejun. I don't feel like I'm enough for Minjun either.”

“Does it feel right being with Y/nnie, though? If everything else wouldn't matter for a second…does it?” Felix asks gently. 

“It does,” he nods. 

“Maybe being with Y/n would help your insecurities regarding Minjun,” Hyunjin reminds him. 

“You wouldn't be the only parent he has then..sort of,” Jeongin agrees. 

Minho hums agreeingly and is about to answer when the door opens. He doesn't have to turn around to identify the small steps echoing on the floor. Minjun closes the distance between them and crawls into his lap, hiding his face in his shirt. Minho frowns and wraps his arms around him as he feels him tremble. “Baby, what's wrong?” he asks worriedly. 

“Hyejin is mean,” he sniffles. Chan looks up and frowns at Minho. 

“Mean?” he asks confused. “Did she say something bad?” Chan asks him gently. 

“She said shut up,” Minjun answers, looking at him with teary eyes. “I just showed her my drawing.”

Minho's heart sinks at how timid he sounds. He cuddles him close and kisses his head. “It's okay, baby. Do you want to show me instead?” he asks soothingly, and Minjun nods. 

“I'll handle it,” Chan promises and gets up quickly.

“Where's your drawing, mate?” Felix asks encouragingly, and Minjun gets up, wiping his cheeks with his sleeve. 

-

Chan leans against the wall in the elevator, watching you cautiously. You two just got back from handling the situation with Minho’s new assistant, who seems hopelessly overwhelmed by taking care of Minjun. “You love him, don't you?” he asks. 

“Minjun?” you ask. 

“No, Min,” he chuckles softly. You remain silent for a moment, almost squirming under Chan's observant gaze. “Do you love him?”

“Why?” you ask quietly. “Would that be an issue?”

Chan tilts his head at you. “As long as you don't hurt him, there's absolutely no issue. I'm just asking because he means a lot to us. Minjun does, too. Minho has been hurt very badly before, and I won't let that happen again.”

“I know; he's scared of getting hurt again,” you nod gently and fidget with your hands. “I do love him. Minjun and he mean a lot to me, and I have no intention of hurting either of them.”

“Okay,” Chan nods gently. “Minjun called you his new mum,” he smirked, and you bit back a laugh. 

“Sounds like him,” you giggle. “Really, Chan, I don't want to be a distraction or anything. I know that's probably easier with you and Felix, but-.”

Chan giggles softly and shakes his head. “Since we're both part of the group, every argument carries a certain risk. I think you being with them takes a lot off Minho's shoulders with Minjun.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and nods gently. “I'll be there if you need anything. I'd rather have you two get some help than get into another argument that lasts for weeks. He doesn't do well with conflict,” he laughs. 

“Me neither,” you laugh. 

“And you're sure you want to take over organizing both of our schedules? With Minjun?” he asks gently. 

“Oh, Minho's schedule can be done whenever he's available. Minjun doesn't feel like a job, and the older he gets, the less he'll be around the whole day,” you chuckle softly. “Also, let's not get ahead of ourselves; Minho and I haven't named our situation yet.”

Chan hums softly. “If it takes too long, let me know,” he smirks, leading you back to the practice room. 

Minjun is sitting on Felix's lap as you enter the room, his drawings spread out on the floor with the others inspecting them closely. He explains them in detail, amusing everyone present with his sweet way to do so. Minho watches him fondly, and looking at him you realize that this soft side of him made him stand out to you in the first place. Chan takes his place next to Felix, hand resting on his thigh naturally as he joins the discussion of Minjun's masterpiece. Minho reaches for your hand, pulling you into his lap and resting his head on your shoulder. You're a little surprised by the sudden display of affection here with the others, but the knowing smiles tell you that not only Chan knows. “What happened with Minjun?” he asks quietly. 

“Hyejin yelled at him. She didn't realize that being your assistant comes with taking care of Minjun properly. She had already refused to play with him, so he told her about his toys and drawings because he was bored, which annoyed her.

“Told you your replacement is shit,” he says quietly enough for only you to hear. 

“Idiot,” you chuckle fondly, smiling as he intertwines your hands. “Well, I'm officially your assistant again. I won't let anyone treat Minjun like that.”

Minho's hold on you tightens. “That's why I trust you with him.” You squeeze his hands lovingly, leaning back against him.

-

Minho giggles stupidly as he watches you stitch up the back of Leebit’s head. You've just spent a while trying to figure out a way to include some of his cologne in the plushie to make it smell like him for Minjun, much to his amusement. 

“You're so easily entertained sometimes,” you roll your eyes at him fondly. Minho circles the table, steps behind you, and wraps his arms around your waist. 

“You're amusing to watch sometimes,” he gives back, kissing your cheek. “But adorable.”

“Well, thanks. Not my fault your son is so attached to you,” you tease him gently, smiling as he runs his hands down your thighs, resting his head on your shoulder. 

“Hey, how is the sheer amount of love my son has for me my fault, huh?” he asks, gently squeezing your thighs. “It's not like I'd get what's so special,” he snorts. 

“You're his father, and compared to some other people we won't name here, you're actually there,” you say, and Minho bites back a laugh. You shake your head, focusing on the stitching, though the warmth of Minho's presence makes it hard to concentrate. "I think you underestimate your charm, Minho."

"I could say the same about you," he whispers back, his voice low and affectionate.

As you finish up with Leebit, Minho gently takes it from you, examining your work with an appreciative eye. "Perfect. He won't even notice the fix. You're amazing, Y/nnie."

The praise, sincere and simple, stirs something deep within you, and you find yourself turning to face him, his hands still circled around your waist. "I just don't want him to feel so alone whenever you're gone," you say.

Minho nods, his gaze softening. "You're so sweet. Don't you ever leave us, dear."

"Even when it gets complicated?" you ask, needing to hear his answer. You haven’t been this close to someone in ages, and you know Minho is a lot further than you in a few areas, but his prior hurt can’t be disregarded.

"Especially then," Minho affirms, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. "We're in this together, right?"

"Right," you agree, leaning in to kiss him—a sweet, affirming connection that promises more than words could.

-

The ring of Minho’s phone cuts through the quiet of his living room. Glancing at the caller ID, his stomach tightens uncomfortably; Yejun’s name flashes across the screen, bringing with it a cascade of unwelcome emotions.

He hesitates for a moment before picking up. “Yejun.”

“Minho,” her voice comes through, falsely cheerful. “I’ve been thinking a lot about Minjun. I want to take him to the U.S. with me for a while. Just a trip. It could be good for him.”

Minho’s grip on the phone tightens, his other hand balling into a fist at his side. Did she already forget the debacle from last time?  “Yejun, we’ve talked about this. Minjun doesn’t want that. Not without me.”

There’s a pause, and when she speaks again, her tone has cooled significantly. “You just don’t want to let me have him,” she says.

“That’s not it,” Minho replies, struggling to keep his voice even. “It’s about what he needs. And right now, he needs stability, something you walking in and out of his life doesn’t provide. Especially not after last time.”

Yejun’s laugh is sharp, biting. “Oh, now you’re the perfect father, huh? Wasn’t so perfect when we were married. Always away, always working. You were a shit husband, Minho.”

The words sting more than Minho likes to admit. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and reminding himself that his being away often hadn’t been the core issue. “I was not perfect,” he continues, the weight of their failed marriage always a tender wound. “And I am sorry for my part in what happened between us. But this isn’t about us, Yejun. It’s about Minjun.”

Silence stretches on the other end before Yejun’s voice cracks through, icy and menacing. “You’re keeping my son from me, Minho. You might fool everyone else with your doting father act, but I know the truth. I know who you really are.”

“You don't know shit, Yejun,” he says firmly. “You haven't been there for the past four years. Don't act like you know anything about me and my relationship with Minjun.”

“It doesn't matter if it's true or not if someone else believes me,” she says lowly. 

Minho feels a chill run down his spine. “Yejun, please. Let’s not do this. If you want to see Minjun, you can visit here and spend time with him where he’s comfortable. That’s fair, isn’t it?”

“Fair?” Yejun spits the word out like it tastes bitter. “You expect me just to accept scraps of time with my own son? You’ve turned him against me, Minho.”

“That’s not true. Minjun is old enough to know what he wants. And right now, he doesn’t want to go with you,” Minho insists, his voice firm. “He’s happy here, with his life here.”

There’s a venomous pause before Yejun’s voice lowers, a dark promise threading through her words. “You may have won this little round, Minho, but this isn’t over. I will have my son back. And I’ll destroy your life if I have to for taking him away from me. I’ll make you pay yourself stupid once I take him back in.”

“You chose to go away. You handed over full custody to me; technically, I could make sure you never see him again, which I don't because that's bullshit. But don't twist things,” Minho’s heart races with a mix of anger and fear—anger at her threats and fear of what she might be capable of. “Yejun, don’t do this. Don’t make threats. Let’s try to handle this like adults, for Minjun’s sake.”

Yejun’s laugh is cold, devoid of any real humor. “Oh, honey. This is just the beginning. I left because I had to, not because I wanted to. You made our life impossible. Remember that.”

With a click, she hangs up, leaving Minho staring at his phone, her words echoing in his head. He slumps back into the sofa, the weight of the call settling over him like a heavy blanket.

After a few moments of stunned silence, he stands, pacing the living room. The threat Yejun posed was not just to his tranquility but to Minjun’s well-being. He knew he couldn’t take her words lightly. Yejun was unpredictable, and if her past actions were any indication, she was capable of following through on her threats.

He needed to be proactive. First, he would need to talk to his legal team about securing his custody of Minjun, ensuring that Yejun couldn’t just take him without consent. Then, he would need to sit down with Minjun and prepare him, just in case Yejun tried to contact him directly.

By the time you arrive back home with Minjun, he is mentally exhausted but knows the day is far from over.

Minjun greets him with a smile and runs into his arms the moment he reaches him. “Daddy! I'm home!”

Minho hugs him tightly, lifting him up and spinning him around, Minjun’s laughter a balm to his frayed nerves. Setting him down, he kneels before him, looking into his son’s eyes. “Buddy, we need to talk about something important,” he begins, his voice soft but serious.

Minjun’s face sobers, sensing the gravity in his father’s tone. “Is everything okay, Daddy?”

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Minho reassures, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “We just have some things to sort out, you and I. But no matter what, we’re together in this. Okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” Minjun nods, trust shining in his eyes.

As you sit down together, Minho’s heart swells with love for his son. No matter what Yejun threatened, he would protect Minjun and ensure his happiness. They were a team, and together, they could face anything - even this.

Minho fills you in quietly later as Minjun is playing on the carpet not far from you. Your heart sinks at her threats, and you almost feel sorry for her twisted view of what happened. That couldn't be healthy. 

-

Minho’s sleep is uneasy, his dreams filled with vague, unsettling images. He awakes with a start to the intrusive buzzing of his phone. He reaches out groggily, the glow from the screen harsh against the dim light of early morning. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Minho’s gaze settles on a flood of notifications—missed calls, texts, and several urgent notifications from various news apps.

As he scrolls through them, a cold knot forms in his stomach. Each message seems to echo the same shocking revelation: “Yejun reveals Minho is dating his son’s babysitter!” and “Questions arise over Minho’s capabilities as a parent!” His heart pounds as he reads snippets of articles, each one painting him in an increasingly unfavorable light.

Beside him, you stir, your brow furrowing in sleep. Minho’s first instinct is to protect you from the storm that is about to break. He slips out of bed, his mind racing as he tries to process the information. How had things spiraled out of control so quickly? He knew Yejun was bitter about their past, but to go this far was something he hadn't anticipated.

He paces the room, his phone almost slipping from his sweaty palm as he tries to call Chan, his first person to turn to when his public life's falling apart. Chan had a way of handling these situations that made him feel safe. After several rings, a groggy voice answers.

“Min? It’s...what time is it?” Chan sounds disoriented, but he snaps to attention as soon as Minho begins to speak.

“I'm sorry for waking you, Channie hyung,” he says quietly, feeling a little guilty for disrupting his already fucked sleep schedule. 

Chan sits up at the timid sound of his voice. Minho doesn't call him ‘Channie hyung’ often; It's usually when he's feeling anxious or very thankful about something. He doubts it's the latter. “Minnie, what's wrong?” he asks gently, slipping out of bed to let Felix keep sleeping. 

“Channie, it’s all over the news. Yejun... she told them about Y/nnie and me. She said I can’t take care of Minjun properly. It’s a mess,” Minho’s voice is a mix of anger and desperation.

“What?!” Chan’s voice suddenly becomes sharp and angry. “She did what? Hold on, I’m checking this now.”

Silence fills the line for a few moments before Chan speaks again, his voice icy. “I see it. This is bullshit, Minho. She’s crossed a line. I’m calling the PR team. We need to handle this swiftly.”

“Thanks, hyung. I...I don’t know what to do,” Minho confesses, running a hand through his hair. His heart feels like it is being squeezed in his chest, the anxiety making it hard to breathe.

“Just stay put and try to keep calm. I’ll handle the media part. You just... make sure Y/nnie is okay. He's going to be dragged into this mess too,” Chan advises, his voice calm, but Minho can hear the underlying strain.

Minho nods, though Chan can’t see it. “Yeah, I’ll talk to him. Thanks, Channie, seriously.”

“Always, mate. We’re in this together,” Chan reassures him before hanging up.

-

Minho slipped out of the house quietly soon after, relieved that Minjun and you were still peacefully asleep. He needs to clear his head to handle everything calmly, and Chan will be busy for a while now. 

Minho steps into the practice room and stretches his tired body, warming up. He turns on the music a little more quietly than usual and closes his eyes, taking deep breaths as he prepares his body for the usual strain of dancing. 

He grabs his phone after a while and swallows hard. It isn't just the messages or missed calls—it's headlines, the kind that blur the lines between personal and public in the most invasive ways. “Stray Kids’ Minho’s Ex-Wife Claims Neglect—Says He’s Too Busy Dating Babysitter to Care for Son.” The words are crafted to scandalize, and they do their job perfectly.

The news is spreading fast, and with each passing minute, the narrative is slipping further from his control. Yejun had not only threatened him in private but also taken her grievances to the most public domain possible. The implications were catastrophic, affecting not just him but also Minjun and you, who had been nothing but supportive and loving towards both him and his son.

Minho gets lost in their newest choreo, moving his body precisely to the music, and tries to stop thinking about it for a while. Chan finds him there about an hour later, turning the music off as the song ends. “Thought I'd find you here.”

Minho pants softly and grabs the towel Chan holds out for him, wiping his face. “Needed to clear my head.”

The room is silent, heavy with unsaid words, until Chan finally speaks, his voice tight with anger and concern. “This is messed up, Min. She can’t just throw you to the wolves like this.”

Minho sighs, rubbing his temples. “I know, but she’s doing it anyway. She’s making it all public and dragging Y/n into it, too. It’s getting out of hand, and I’m worried about what this is doing to Minjun.”

Chan’s jaw clenches, and his protectiveness over his friend is evident. “We’ll fix this, okay? I talked to the PR team to see how we can counteract these claims. And I’m here, whatever you need.”

Minho looks up, startled as the door opens and Felix steps inside, followed by the rest of their closest friends. “Sorry, we're a little late.”

They all gather on the floor next to Minho and Chan, reassuringly patting his back as they do. “Let's deal with this bitch once and for all,” Jisung says firmly, feeling the need to protect little Minjun from this mess. 

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Seungmin asks, glancing at Chan questioningly. 

“Everyone of us will publish a statement; I already talked that through. Minho shouldn't have any issues proving he's the one worthy of custody in case she snaps and takes him to court. Hyunjin, Innie, you have an interview coming up; be prepared for dumb questions.”

“I'll make them look stupid instead,” Hyunjin grins, pulling a weak laugh from Minho. 

“Have you talked to your parents yet?” Jeongin asks Minho, who shakes his head. 

“I forgot about that,” he admits, already searching for his phone. 

“Might be a good idea to clear things up with them first,” Changbin agrees. 

“Whatever happens, we have your back,” Felix promises.

“Thank you guys, really. Just…if you find ways to ease Y/nnie with this, I'd be grateful. He's not exactly prepared for the public’s shit as we are.”

“Of course,” Chan assures him. “Now go call your parents.”

The support is reassuring, but the problem looms large and unyielding. As the day progresses, you come to find Minho, your expression fraught with worry. Seeing you so distressed adds another layer of guilt to Minho’s already heavy conscience.

“Hey,” he says softly as you hand over Minjun to Jisung, who leaves you some space. 

“Hey,” you echo, swallowing hard. “Minho, maybe I should just leave,” you suggest hesitantly, the words paining you even as they leave your lips. “If I’m not around, she won’t have another reason to attack you like this.”

Minho looks up sharply, his eyes locking with yours. “Y/n, no. Leaving won’t fix this. It’s not your presence that’s the problem—it’s Yejun. And I’m not going to let her chase you away. You mean too much to me, to Minjun.”

Your eyes fill with tears, touched by his words but still shaken by the rapid unraveling of your quiet life. “But Minho, this is getting so big. What if it affects Minjun more than it already has? What if your career—”

He shakes his head, hands finding yours. “Look, whatever happens, we face it together. Yejun is trying to isolate us and make us feel weak by dividing us. I won’t let her. I love you, Y/nnie, and I need you to know that.”

The affirmation, so heartfelt and desperate, breaks through your resolve to distance yourself. You nod, squeezing his hands back, finding strength in his conviction.

“We’ll deal with this,” Minho continues, his voice firm despite the chaos around you. “I’ll talk to the lawyers, and see what legal avenues we have to protect ourselves and Minjun. And Chan is right—we’ll work with the PR team to set the record straight.”

True to his word, Minho arranged meetings with his legal team, and together with the public relations department, they began crafting a response that would address the allegations head-on. Chan was a constant presence, offering both strategic advice and moral support, and his friendship was a steady force in the tumult.

As the week progressed, strategies were implemented. The company issued a statement denouncing the unfounded accusations and highlighting Minho’s dedication as a father, accompanied by testimonials from colleagues and friends outside the group who vouched for his character and his role in Minjun’s life.

Yet, despite the countermeasures, the shadow of the scandal lingered. The press was relentless, and the public's appetite for celebrity drama was insatiable. Minho found himself scrutinizing every decision and every interaction with Minjun and you, aware that the eyes of the world were now critically watching.

Minho asked you to move in with them so it'd be easier for him to keep you safe. It didn't change much for you since you've been staying over a lot already and barely went back home. So, of course, you said yes. 

Two months later 

Felix's birthday is just around the corner, and you're almost a little surprised when he comes to you to invite you all. He giggles at your stunned look and tilts his head at you. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“I'm just…did you ask Min?” you ask nervously. 

“No,” Felix shakes his head. “He's busy right now, and I'm inviting you as you are part of his and, therefore, our family.”

“Oh,” you nod gently, a shy smile covering your lips. “Sure, I'd love to be there,” you nod. “I bet Minjun would love it as well, and Minho will surely be there.”

“Lovely,” he smiles and gives you a gentle hug. 

Minho later walks in, Minjun sitting on his shoulders with a wide grin. “Y/nnie!” Minjun shouts and waves at you. “Look, I'm tall!”

“Oh yeah, you're really tall now, buddy!” you assure him. 

Minho giggles softly, stopping in front of you and greeting you with a soft kiss. “Hey there,” he says fondly. 

“Hey,” you smile back at him. “Ready to go home?” you ask, and Minho hums softly. 

“Minjun is staying over at Chan and Felix's tonight,” he says, and you frown at him, surprised. 

“The whole night?” you ask, and Minho hums agreeing. Over the past two months, you've been letting Minjun stay with all of the boys for a few hours each. It helped him grow less dependent on Minho, and he became more confident about staying somewhere else for a while. Minjun seemed happy, and Minho was more than glad. It allowed you all to grow together. “What's the occasion?” you ask curiously. Chan and Felix had been the ones Minjun loved staying with a lot. Chan once told Minho how much Felix loved having him around, and so the two of them made sure their boyfriend and son got what they loved. 

“Maybe I just want to take you out for dinner without having to glance at the time,” he smiles softly, letting Minjun down as he spots his beloved ‘Changnin’. Minho’s hands find your waist, eyes growing soft the longer he looks at you. “Maybe I want to kiss you stupid after without worrying about a certain someone bursting in and going ‘eww’.”

You giggle softly at the memory of Minjun catching Minho kissing you a little more passionately than he'd do in front of him. “Sounds lovely,” you chuckle. 

Minho hums gently, searching your eyes as if he doesn't know if he should keep talking or not. “Maybe…Maybe I'd be ready to take the next step,” he says, and your eyes widen. “No pressure or anything, though. Just..if it feels right if we're both comfortable tonight…I think I'm ready.”

You can't bite back the giddy smile covering your lips. Over the months you've been with Minho, you have never gone much further than kissing. He once covered your neck with loving little bites, but you didn't get much further with Minjun, only a few doors further. You've been able to tell how Minho grew a little impatient every time things were developing into something more, but there was simply no chance you two could take the time you'd need for your first time together with a child around the house. “You're sure?” you ask gently, and Minho nods. 

“I'm sure, my love,” he says sweetly, making your stomach flutter already. 

“I love you, Min,” you whisper, watching his eyes sparkle with joy. 

“I love you too, Y/nnie,” he says softly. “Come on, let's make sure Minjun is with Chan and Felix,” Minho suggests with a playful nudge, guiding you toward them. 

Felix is already fooling around with Minjun, and Chan is watching them fondly. “Are you ready to go?” Chan asks as you reach them. 

“Yeah, everything is done,” Minho nods, smirking at Minjun. “Are you ready to stay with Lix and Channie?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Minjun nods happily, and Minho crouches down in front of him.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow, yeah? Uncle Channie will take you to the studio with him if you want to,” he tells him, gently squeezing his little hands. “Be good, yeah? No discussions about bedtime either, baby.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Minjun nods eagerly and tightly hugs him goodbye. “I love you,” he says softly.

“I love you too, dumpling,” Minho smiles and kisses his cheek, gently brushing back his curls. 

You gently rest your hand on his shoulder, silently reminding him to let go of him. It’s also the first night for Minho without his boy since Yejun left. Minho does, and Minjun’s hugging you goodbye tightly. Chan chuckles softly, noticing Minho’s worried frown. “I’ll return him intact, I promise,” he winks at him, and Minho relaxes with a chuckle. 

Felix lifts up Minjun, smiling reassuringly at Minho. “We’ll take good care of him,” he tells him.

“I know,” he assures them gently. “Just new for me as well,” he laughs, gently poking Minjun’s cheek. “Be good, yeah?”

“You too,” he says, making everyone giggle. 

Minho rolls his eyes fondly, winking at him. “Yeah, okay.” His hand finds yours as they leave, and you squeeze it softly. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he’s growing up way too fast,” he chuckles with a soft sigh. 

“Mhm, yeah, I can’t believe you saying this either,” you snort teasingly.

“Shut up, will you?” he laughs, gently shoving your side. “Alright, let’s go,” he gives himself a push.

The two of you reach his car outside the building. As you both settle in, a sense of nervous excitement fills the air - a mixture of anticipation for the evening ahead and the deep emotional connection that has grown between you two. 

Back at home, the two of you get ready, and you let Minho match your outfits since he has a way better eye for what’s needed in public. You barely got used to people taking pictures of him when you were only his assistant, but now you had to excel yourself as his boyfriend. Minho does his best to make you feel comfortable and look presentable for pictures whenever you’re out together. Once he’s done, he hums to himself happily, smacking your butt lovingly. Typical.

The drive is quiet but comfortable, filled with shared glances and soft smiles, each exchange weaving a deeper layer of intimacy. As you arrive at the restaurant, Minho’s hand finds yours, his grip reassuring and warm. You soon blend out the people around you, focusing on him only. This isn’t very hard to do because something about Minho caught your attention long before you started dating. 

Minho is more relaxed lately now that the whole mess with Yejun is settled. All of his friends repeatedly spoke out for him, and two weeks ago, Minho attended a press conference dealing with the matter. You know that hadn’t been easy for him, but he had been rather open and honest, making sure all the rumors were addressed and settled. He also made sure to clarify that you’ve been working for him for years, slowly taking more and more care of Minjun and growing closer with him in the process. She did her best to take him back to court, but looking at the circumstances, it only benefited Minho, who refused all of the payments she’d have to make for dragging his name through dirt and spreading lies.

After dinner, Minho suggests a walk, and you wander through a nearby park adorned with twinkling lights and soft shadows. You stop beneath a street lantern, its soft glow painting the scene in an almost magical light. Minho turns to you, his eyes reflecting the twinkling lights, his face etched with tenderness.

“Y/nnie,” he begins, his voice a whisper of emotion. “Being with you has made me happier than I’ve been in a long time. I feel like I can finally breathe like I’m more myself than I’ve ever been.” You listen, your heart swelling with each word, the sincerity in his voice anchoring the swirling emotions inside you. “And I want to share everything with you. Not just the dinners or the walks, or the laughs we have with Minjun. I want to share all the moments, even those we’ve yet to live,” he continues, his hand reaching up to gently caress your cheek. “I love you so much, and I’ll be there as long as you let me.”

The emotional weight of his words pulls you closer, and you find your lips meeting in a kiss that speaks volumes. It’s tender at first, explorative, and as if each of you is memorizing the feel of the other. The kiss deepens; it grows more passionate, fueled by the months of growing love and restrained desire.

Minho’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer. His hands trace the lines of your back, pressing you into his warmth. You respond in kind, weaving your hands into his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until it’s all that exists in the world - the two of you, beneath the warm lights, lost in each other.

Eventually, the need for air forces you apart, but only slightly. Foreheads pressed together, breathing mingled, you share a quiet laugh - a moment of pure happiness and mutual understanding.

“Let’s go home?” you ask gently, and he hums in response.

The walk back to the car is filled with easy silence, which is comfortable and reassuring. Once home, Minho leads you to your bedroom, his hand steady in yours, a silent promise of what’s to come - a night of exploring, of loving, of affirming the feelings that have been simmering beneath the surface for so long. His lips entangle yours in a passionate kiss as he silently closes the door behind you. The back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress, and you both drop down into it. Minho hovers over you, eyes filled with nothing but pure adoration and love. He’s bracing himself next to your head, caging your legs in with his knees, and leans down, capturing your lips in another fierce kiss. His body moves on its own, searching yours, and the minute your hands find his hips, he lowers himself onto his elbows, closing the distance between your bodies. “Shit,” he mutters against your lips as you arch into him.

You reach down, testing the waters and palming him through his pants. Minho’s hips stutter, a soft moan leaving him, head dropping against your shoulder. “Minho?” you ask softly, noticing how desperately his body reacts to your every touch without him even fully realizing it. “When was the last time you had some time for yourself…like this?”

Minho laughs, planting a row of gentle kisses against your neck. “My sweet love, you have no idea,” he chuckles. “Remember that clingy kid of mine?” he asks, making you laugh as well. 

“Right,” you giggle and kiss his cheek. 

“Just tell me what you need, love; I’ll do it,” Minho promises gently, smiling down at you fondly. “We have time.”

Minho’s whispered promise lingers in the air, the warmth of his smile making your heart flutter. The room feels isolated from the world, a private sanctuary where the past complexities and external pressures fade into the background. Here, it’s just the two of you, bound by an intimacy that has deepened with each shared struggle and joy.

You guide his hand beneath your shirt, letting him explore your bare skin. Your breath hitches as he follows your silent directions with attentive care. Minho’s touch is skilled, a perfect blend of tender and assured, driven by his desire to bring you comfort and pleasure. His eyes never leave yours, seeking confirmation and encouragement, his own desire mirrored in the deepening blush of your cheeks.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. His fingertips trace patterns along the waistband of your trousers that leave you breathless.

“More than okay,” you manage to reply, your voice a whisper caught between sighs. The room fills with the sound of your intertwined breaths, a testament to the closeness that both of you cherish.

Minho’s movements become more purposeful. His free hand cradles your face, his thumb caressing your jawline as he watches the effects of his actions reflected in your expressions. The world narrows down to the shifting shadows cast by the dim light, the soft bedding beneath you, and the man who has come to mean so much. He has barely touched you and you’re already melting into a puddle. How the hell would you survive this?

PART FOUR | PART SIX

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

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[raysrays]

All Jokes Aside

Kyojuro Rengoku X GN! Tsuguko! Reader

CW: Teasing, fluff, Gn Reader, suggestive flirting, new relationship.

Scenario: Ever since taking on the role of Tsuguko and lover to the Flame Hashira, you’ve noticed a delightful shift in the atmosphere during your training sessions lately. But what happens if your teasing goes a little too far.

Request by: @kanashi-z

A/N: thank you all so much for all the requests!! I’m so behind and I’m terribly sorry! I promise I will get to all of them soon. Appreciate and love all of you <3

You and Kyojuro had been training together for a good while. So, when he suggested the idea about you becoming his Tsuguko, you were all in, no hesitation. But then, he went a step further, asking for something more. That's when things between you two began to shift.

He had always embodied the qualities of kindness, care, and loudness, but now, there was an added layer of affection that wasn’t always present before. The transition wasn’t instant; it took a few months for both of you to fully adapt to this new closeness. You however quickly started to get the hang of it.

As you two trained, the cashing of swords rang though the training grounds. You might not have matched Kyojuro's strength, but every man has his weaknesses. It only took a few training sessions together for you to uncover his.

His smile widens as he effortlessly knocks you off your feet, sending you tumbling to the ground. He stands over you, his gaze looking down with confidence.

“Still too slow for me, little flame,” he remarks, his tone oozing with self-assurance.

While Kyojuro is undeniably kind, you’ve recently discovered that outside of his mentorship role, he can be quite cocky. But you know just how to bring him back down to earth.

Accepting his hand to help you up, you close the distance between you, personal space forgotten.

A grin spreads across your face as you notice a slightly flustered look creeping onto his face.

“Little flame… as much as I enjoy our closeness, we’re supposed to be training,” he murmurs, his voice softer than usual, a complete contrast to his constant loud demeanor.

Your hands, now free of your sword, now drift up his arms slowly.

“We’ve been training for quite a while. Perhaps it’s time for a break,” you suggest, a knowing glint in your eye, a look he’s grown accustomed to lately.

He frowns, a hint of pink starting to paint his cheeks as he meets your gaze. “Sunflower, the day is still young. It’s not time for a break yet,” he counters.

You can’t help but smile at his resistance, laying on your flirtatious tone. “You shouldn’t overwork yourself, Master,” you tease.

He notices, of course. “Kyojuro,” he corrects you.

“You’re not just my Tsuguko anymore; you are my partner. Address me as such,” he asserts, you relish in the adorable look on his face as he avoids your gaze.

But you love every moment of this, knowing exactly which buttons to push to win this battle.

“Okay… you really shouldn’t overwork yourself, Kyojuro,” you utter his name like a sacred mantra, knowing the effect it has on him.

He can’t help but let his mind wonder, contemplating how it would sound in different circumstances.

Your hands slide down from his arms to his hands, still clasping his sword.

“You’re already so incredibly strong, Kyojuro. There’s no need to push yourself so hard,” you urge softly.

He looks at you, confusion evident on his face. “Y/N, that doesn’t make sense. I should always train to become stronger—”

His words are abruptly silenced as you press your soft lips against his.

His body tenses momentarily before gradually relaxing. It only takes a few seconds for him to reciprocate the kiss.

He pulls back nervously, his gaze darting around to check for any onlookers, though he doesn’t seem to mind much.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this out here, my love,” he says breathlessly, resting his forehead against yours.

You smirk and plant a small peck on his jaw before swiftly kicking his legs out from under him, sending both of you falling to the ground.

Despite his attempt to catch himself, he falls, gazing up at you as you end up sitting on top of him, a smug expression gracing your features.

“Am I still too slow for you?” you tease, unable to contain your laughter at his current predicament.

It was a rare sight indeed to see the Flame Pillar sprawled on the ground, his sword knocked out of his hand, with his Tsuguko sitting triumphantly atop him.

To any observer, it would seem as though they were interrupting something intimate.

You had never witnessed the man so embarrassed in all your time together. His face flushed crimson, torn between anger at your recklessness and arousal at your boldness.

However, your triumph is short-lived as you suddenly find yourself flipped onto the ground, with Kyojuro pinning you beneath his arms.

“You truly believe you can outsmart me, little flame?” His demeanor begins to shift back to its original confident state.

His hand moves to gently caress your face before leaning down to whisper in your ear, his voice low and intimate.

“You may have caught me off guard this time, but don’t think I’ll allow it to happen again. It’s foolish to think you can outsmart a Hashira.” There he is, back to his cocky self.

As he pulls back to gaze at you, you can’t help but crave more of him—his beautiful hair, those golden eyes, that annoyingly smug smile that seems to fit him perfectly.

“You’re just upset I managed to get the jump on you,” you retort, unable to resist.

“Hardly,” his voice is smooth, alluring, causing your cheeks to flush involuntarily.

Nervous at how your plan has backfired, you glance around under his grasp, “Maybe we should continue this somewhere else,” you suggest, accompanied by a weak smile.

His eyes narrow as he looks down at you. “After the way you’ve been acting? I think more training is exactly what you need,” he responds firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Yes sir.”

[anniebeemine]

sawyer and spencer- s.r. x fem!reader

spencer has no idea how to take care of your son, but he'll try

Spencer stood in the living room, watching as you gathered your things near the front door. He had heard you earlier, casually mentioning that you were heading out for a few hours, but it hadn't really sunk in until now. He glanced over at Sawyer, your son—his soon-to-be stepson—who was standing at the coffee table, gripping it with his small hands, a binky in his mouth.

The little boy wobbled slightly, teetering as he practiced his new standing skills, and Spencer's heart thudded in his chest. He adored Sawyer—he really did—but parenthood still felt like a foreign language he was struggling to understand. He wasn’t sure when to step in, when to let things go, or how much he should be doing. The boundaries between being your partner and Sawyer’s stepfather still felt blurry.

"Are you sure you're okay with Sawyer for a few hours?" you asked, turning to him with a questioning look as you slipped your shoes on.

Spencer straightened up, pushing aside his internal doubts and offering you a quick nod. "Yeah, of course. We’ll be fine," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

You gave him a warm smile, walking over and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. I won’t be gone too long. Just a few errands."

Sawyer babbled something unintelligible, his binky bouncing slightly in his mouth as he looked up at Spencer with wide, curious eyes. Spencer stared back, feeling a mix of affection and panic swirl in his chest. This was the part of parenthood that scared him—the responsibility of being someone this small’s entire world for a few hours.

As you headed out the door, Spencer gave a little wave, still trying to keep the calm facade. Once the door clicked shut, he turned to face Sawyer, who had now plopped down on his bottom, his little legs splayed out in front of him. Spencer swallowed nervously.

"Alright, buddy," Spencer said, walking over and crouching down to Sawyer's level. "It’s just you and me. What do you want to do?"

Sawyer blinked up at him, the binky still firmly lodged in his mouth, then gave a little giggle as if Spencer had just told the funniest joke in the world. Spencer couldn’t help but smile back, his heart softening a little at the sound of Sawyer’s laughter.

“Okay,” Spencer muttered, running a hand through his hair. "How hard can this be?"

Sawyer suddenly reached up, his tiny fingers grabbing for Spencer’s sleeve, and pulled himself up to a wobbly stand again. He wiggled, still holding onto the coffee table for balance, his eyes focused intently on a toy car that was just out of reach.

Spencer watched, his instinct to help warring with the knowledge that you always encouraged Sawyer to figure things out on his own. He wasn’t sure when it was appropriate to step in, or if he should let Sawyer try it on his own.

After a moment, Spencer decided to sit back and watch, his hands hovering near Sawyer, ready to catch him if he fell. "You got this, Sawyer," he encouraged softly. "You can do it."

Sawyer glanced at Spencer, then back at the toy. With a determined little grunt, he let go of the table and took one wobbly step toward the car. Spencer held his breath, heart racing as Sawyer lifted one chubby foot, then the other. He swayed dangerously for a second, and Spencer’s hand instinctively shot out, hovering just behind his back—but Sawyer didn’t fall.

Instead, he reached the toy car and plopped down, triumphant, grabbing the car with a delighted squeal. Spencer let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, a mixture of relief and pride flooding through him.

“You did it!” Spencer smiled, his nerves easing slightly as he sat down next to Sawyer. "Good job, buddy."

Sawyer looked up at him with a grin, his binky hanging half out of his mouth, and Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle. For the first time that evening, he felt a small surge of confidence. Maybe he didn’t have this whole parenting thing completely figured out, but in this moment, it was okay. They were figuring it out together, one wobbly step at a time.

"Alright," Spencer said with a soft smile, picking up a second toy car and gently rolling it across the floor. "Let's see what else we can do before your mom gets back."

Sawyer clapped his hands, clearly excited, and Spencer felt the knot of anxiety in his chest start to loosen. Maybe he was still learning, but moments like this? They felt just right.

Spencer spent the next hour on the floor with Sawyer, rolling cars back and forth between them. The more time he spent with Sawyer, the more his nerves began to settle. He even started to enjoy himself, finding the little boy’s infectious giggles and curiosity charming. It was a stark contrast to the chaos Spencer usually faced at work, but this calm, domestic moment had its own challenges—and rewards.

As the afternoon wore on, Sawyer started to get restless, his attention shifting from his toys to the kitchen. Spencer recognized the signs—his soon-to-be stepson was getting hungry. He’d seen you go through the routine before, so he stood up, dusting off his pants, and carefully scooped Sawyer up into his arms.

“Alright, I think it’s snack time,” Spencer said, smiling down at Sawyer, who was already trying to squirm out of his arms to reach for the refrigerator door.

Spencer opened the fridge, glancing around for something he could prepare quickly. His eyes landed on a bowl of pre-cooked oatmeal you must have made earlier. He grabbed it, setting Sawyer down in his high chair and microwaving the oatmeal until it was warm.

When it was ready, Spencer stirred in a little bit of milk to cool it down and then pulled up a chair beside Sawyer. He grabbed two spoons—one for himself and one for Sawyer—then sat back with a sigh. This was another part of parenting that felt odd to him. He never would’ve imagined himself sharing a bowl of oatmeal with a toddler, but here he was.

Sawyer reached for the spoon, his little fingers curling around it awkwardly. Spencer helped guide the spoon to Sawyer’s mouth, then took a small bite himself, smiling at the surprised look on Sawyer’s face as he tasted the oatmeal.

“It’s not so bad, right?” Spencer asked with a chuckle, watching as Sawyer made a happy little sound and reached for more.

They ate together, Sawyer taking messy, enthusiastic bites while Spencer cleaned up any stray oatmeal that dribbled onto the high chair. It was a simple, quiet moment, but there was something soothing about it.

After a while, Sawyer started to slow down, his bites becoming more sluggish as he leaned back in his high chair. Spencer recognized the familiar signs of fatigue—his eyelids were drooping, and his movements were less coordinated.

“Are you getting tired, buddy?” Spencer asked softly, standing up to wipe Sawyer’s hands and face with a damp cloth.

Sawyer let out a small, whiny sound in response, rubbing his eyes with his chubby fists. Spencer carefully lifted him out of the high chair and held him against his chest, his heart softening as Sawyer instinctively nuzzled into him, his small body fitting perfectly in Spencer’s arms.

“There we go,” Spencer murmured, swaying gently as he carried Sawyer over to the couch. He sat down carefully, still holding Sawyer close as the little boy snuggled into him, his head resting against Spencer’s shoulder.

Sawyer let out a sleepy sigh, his hand clutching a fistful of Spencer’s shirt as his eyes fluttered closed. Spencer felt a rush of warmth as he looked down at him, the weight of Sawyer in his arms suddenly making the anxiety of the day fade away. He hadn’t overstepped. He’d taken care of Sawyer, and it had been okay—more than okay, actually.

Spencer continued to rock gently, resting his cheek against Sawyer’s soft hair. The little boy’s breathing became slow and steady, and Spencer couldn’t help but smile at the quiet, intimate moment they were sharing. For all his fears about parenthood and being unsure of when to step in, right now, with Sawyer asleep in his arms, everything felt right.

When you finally returned a couple of hours later, you found Spencer still sitting on the couch, cradling Sawyer in his arms. The sight made your heart swell with affection. Spencer looked up at you with a soft smile, his eyes full of warmth and pride.

"How did it go?" you asked quietly, not wanting to disturb Sawyer.

Spencer smiled down at the little boy, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "We had a pretty good afternoon. Shared some oatmeal, played with cars... and now, I guess it’s nap time."

You leaned down and kissed Spencer gently on the forehead, whispering, "Thank you."

Spencer met your gaze, his earlier doubts nowhere to be found. "I think we’re going to be just fine," he said softly, his arms wrapped protectively around Sawyer.

And in that moment, you knew he was right.

[delulujuls]

friends don't know how you taste | ms47

hi! i know that i have a lot of second parts to write, like for example for this one, but i just cant write other stuff when i am having particular ideas in mind, ya feel me? but dont worry, i remember all of the requests and i will write them in the sooner than later future, i promise!

but here comes the mick schumacher's one and i hope that you will enjoy this while waiting for the next parts for other shots, so bon apetit!

summary: when you are in love with your best friend and only alcohol can untie your tongue to reveal your feelings

warnings: reader being drunk, mentions of alcohol usage

pairing: fem!bffreader x mick schumacher

"Careful, watch out."

The tipsy giggles intensified as Mick steadied his friend's waist a bit more securely while they exited the elevator on the correct floor.

The girl struggled to maintain her balance, and despite being upset when her friends ordered transportation to the hotel for her, she was delighted when Mick turned out to be her ride.

"We're almost there, you're doing great," he reassured her.

Occasionally, he glanced at her, wanting to ensure that the alcohol wasn't taking a negative toll on her. She, however, was in great spirits, giggling and being very talkative.

"When they told me to go back to the hotel because 'I've had enough,'-" she mocked one of her friends, hiccuping, "at first, I got mad. But when I saw it was you who came for me, you have no idea how happy I was to see you!"

She stopped and embraced him, hugging tightly. Mick chuckled softly and reciprocated the hug. He knew he was in for a rather amusing evening with his friend, whom he had no intention of leaving in such a state, even though he could see that she had indulged in one of those harmless ways that shouldn't lead to any harm. Nevertheless, he wanted a clear conscience.

"I'm happy to see you too, liebling."

The girl lifted her head, smiling at his face. Her mascara was slightly smudged, her eyes sparkling, and a wide smile stretched across her rosy lips. Mick returned her smile, looking at her affectionately. She looked charming, staring at him like a painting in the middle of an empty hotel corridor.

"Liebling," she repeated, trying to mimic the German accent, "am I your liebling?"

Schumacher laughed, hearing her feigned accent.

"Of course you are."

She giggled again and hugged him once more. Shortly after, they managed to reach her hotel room. Mick closed the door behind them and seated his friend on the bed. She immediately sank into the soft mattress, feeling everything around her spin. Mick put her purse aside and took off her shoes.

"We'll get you into something more comfortable, okay?"

"Just say you want to undress me."

She joked, giggling. Mick chuckled and shook his head. He was genuinely curious about what interesting things he would learn from his intoxicated friend, with whom he had been friends for many years, and who had never made him feel that there was anything more than friendship between them. However, with alcohol, the girl always became more open, and whenever he was around, she enjoyed his company. Mick decided to play along.

"No, absolutely. After all, we're just friends, right?"

He said, taking off her leather jacket.

"Friends, just friends," the girl sighed heavily, sitting down with difficulty, "of course, as you wish, liebling."

Mick laughed when she again used the term he often called her, this time with an exaggerated German accent that amused him.

"Do you even know what that term means?"

"Liebling?"

"Mhm."

He said, squatting by her suitcase and looking for something for her to change into. As he searched through her clothes, to his surprise, he came across his own T-shirt, which she must have borrowed from him at some point. He smiled to himself. It fit perfectly, being a bit too big for her and, as a result, comfortable.

"Of course, I know."

The girl snorted. Mick stood up and approached her again, holding the T-shirt in his hand.

"So, tell me, and I'll get you changed, okay?"

The girl nodded, a shadow of intense contemplation appearing on her drunken face.

"Liebling," she said again, with the feigned accent, "means darling."

Mick smiled, squatting down and unbuttoning her pants.

"That's right, it means darling."

"I'm your darling?"

She asked, looking at him. He lifted his gaze, and their eyes met. His once amused blue eyes suddenly became serious, and the girl's intoxicated, gleaming eyes also became a bit more serious, too. Nevertheless, a smile still lingered on her face.

"Am i?"

She repeated the question, but Mick couldn't bring himself to utter a word. However, he thought that the next morning, his friend probably wouldn't remember half of the evening, so why worry about what he would say? Even if he revealed his long-hidden feelings to her now, he could gauge her reaction even if it wasn't positive. Everything would return to normal the next morning. He decided to take the risk.

"Of course, you are, liebling."

The girl smiled. Mick returned her smile. He took off her pants and tossed them aside, leaving his friend in just the top and underwear. He stood up and handed her the T-shirt, which she clutched in her hand.

"Can you manage the rest? I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"You promised to dress me, so you should keep your word."

She said confidently, looking into his eyes again.

"However you wish."

He replied softly, smiling slightly. He took hold of the bottom of her top and carefully removed it. He tried not to stare; that would be impolite. He grabbed his T-shirt and helped her put it on, tucking her hair behind the collar.

"We'll remove your makeup now, okay?"

The girl nodded and pointed to the bathroom. Mick disappeared for a moment, returning with micellar water and cotton pads. He sat next to his friend, looked at her face, and warmly smiled at her, sweeping her hair from her face and tucking it behind her ears. The girl closed her eyes and nestled into his hand. Mick stroked her cheek with his thumb, looking at her affectionately.

"You have pleasant hands. I like your hands."

He chuckled softly.

"Is there anything else you like about me?"

He asked, after a moment, taking a cotton pad and soaking it with makeup remover. He placed one hand on the back of her head and gently started removing her makeup with the other.

"I really like your eyes," she said after a while, without hesitation, "they're beautiful. Like the sky on a summer afternoon."

Mick smiled, hearing that comparison. With careful movements, he swiped the cotton pad over her cheek.

"I love your smile. And your laughter—whenever you laugh, you brighten everything around you." As she said this, she smiled herself. Mick couldn't hide his own smile.

"God, I think there's nothing about you that I don't like."

"Really?"

He giggled, taking another cotton pad, and he applied it to her eyes.

"Although, no, there's one thing I don't like about you."

"I'm all ears then."

"That you haven't made me Mrs. Schumacher yet."

Mick smiled. For a moment, he worried if he had missed something.

"Would you like to be Mrs. Schumacher?"

"Oh God, yes!"

She replied without hesitation, making him laugh. He set the cotton pads aside and leaned in, examining her face carefully, checking if he had done well in the task entrusted to him—removing her makeup.

The girl bit her lip, watching his face.

"You're doing great. This is the moment when you give me a kiss."

Mick was taken aback by her confidence. Even though, he looked into her eyes and smiled.

"Like this?"

He asked, touching her cheek and kissing her. He felt her smile against his lips, deepening the kiss. Although her lips tasted like alcohol, the kiss was filled with emotions. Not wanting to overdo it, he intended to pull away, but she grabbed his hoodie and pulled him closer.

After a while, they separated, but their foreheads were still pressed against each other.

"You have no idea how much I like you."

Mick confessed quietly.

The girl laughed softly.

"And you're telling me this now, when I'm drunk?"

"You probably won't remember it in the morning," he replied, stroking her cheek, "so I'm not worried that it will change anything between us."

"And you don't want anything to change?"

Mick sighed and lowered his gaze, leaning back a bit. He took her hand in his.

"You're drunk, baby."

"No, not at all."

She replied quickly, but hiccups got the better of her. Mick smiled, stroking her hand with his thumb.

"I'm afraid you won't remember anything from this conversation tomorrow."

"Answer me, Mick," she said, looking into his eyes, which were now avoiding hers, "you don't want anything to change?"

He looked at her. He felt that this joking conversation had taken on a completely serious tone. So, he decided to go all-in.

"I'd like to stop pretending that I only want to be your friend."

The girl smiled.

"So let's stop being just friends."

Mick was about to say something, but she kissed him again. Despite the taste of alcohol from her lips, he also felt the taste of change.

After all, friends don't know how you taste, right?

[chiibinomonodamon]

WHO WANTS TO HEAR ME RAMBLE ABOUT GAY FURRY DEMON SEX? XD

(damn, there's a sentence I never thought I'd say....)

Okay...so I see some Stolitz confusion and bashing online and I need to type up a defense here because I won't be able to sleep otherwise lol

I consider myself to be a Ship Critic and someone who takes shipping rather seriously.

What I mean by this is, I like to analyze and break down romantic relationships between fictional characters because it's just interesting to write for me. I especially take delight in friendly debating with opinions that I strongly do *not* agree with.

Let me start off by saying I am NOT a "this ship is awesome because gay furry sex lol" type of girl.

FAR from it. I'm generally more passionate about hetero ships between human characters (because I can relate to them more) among other reasons. So if you wanna dismiss my defense as "shallow fangirlism", you can forget about that lame excuse.

I fell in love with Hazbin Hotel when it was finally released in February and suffered waiting for each new two-parts per week. During that time, I decided to watch Helluva Boss as well, after a friend showed me a particularly soul-crushing clip (Moxxie's childhood trauma about his mother).

Yes, I like funny sex jokes as much as the next goofy adult but scenes like this, scenes that carry a very heavy emotional weight are what really get me in the end, even moreso when VERY little dialogue is exchanged. I knew I had to watch the entire episode run after seeing that the creators had a talent for this.

I saw people asking:

"How did Stolas go from using Blitz as a sex toy to being painfully in love with him?"

Oh I can tell you. I can tell you the EXACT moment this is revealed. But it's not spoon-fed to you; it's quite subtle actually and this is why lots of people miss it.

See, one of the strongest talents Vivenne has shown me is that she REALLY knows how to get her characters to communicate their feelings to the viewers JUST from their expressions and body language. These can be 'blink-and-miss-it' teeny little scenes and it may require a couple rewatches.

But since people demand time stamps for all information others post here, I'll rewatch a few scenes from S1 E7 'Ozzie's' as I'm typing this.

'Ozzie's' remains to be not just my favorite episode of HB...but probably my favorite episode of any adult-targeted animated show outside of Japan (aside from S2 E7's Mid-Season Special)

It has this huge reveal for both Blitzo and Stolas.

We'll first address Blitzo's irrational, stalkerish behavior of Moxxie and Millie.

He's obsessed with them. He finds both of them very attractive, fantasizes about threesomes with them and is constantly inserting himself into their personal lives.

Why?

Because they have everything that he badly badly wants for himself.

They have the perfect marriage and he is trying to live THROUGH them.

This was hilarious to me at the beginnning of the show but it's slowly revealed that it's one of the most tragic and depressing things I've ever seen. And it's scarily realistic too.

But you know this already so let's move on...

Blitzo follows the couple to Ozzie's but he can't get in without a date. So he calls up Stolas and yes, this is very low but he doesn't realize how much this means to Stolas (hell, I'm not sure even Stolas realizes it himself!) but the owl man is giddy with joy, he rushes over and they enter Ozzie's.

When Ozzie and Fizz mock Moxxie for being so sappy towards his wife, this strikes a chord with Blitzo (because they're his IDEAL relationship) and he speaks up to defend them.

NOW PAY CLOSE ATTENTION; THIS IS THE IMPORTANT PART:

Fizz, still holding onto his past grudge turns on Blitzo to humilate him:

"Some nerve you got commenting on a relationship"

Time Stamp: 11:37

As Fizz says "-ship", Blitzo VERY QUICKLY makes eye contact with Stolas who has a look of panic on his face. Blitzo is seeking VALIDATION from Stolas in this sharp, subtle second of screentime, as if to ask

"Well, ARE we in one?"

And then what happens next...Stolas remains silent, Blitzo's ex joins in to announce how selfish Blitzo was in bed with her, tearing him down further. Stolas stands up like he's going to put a stop to it but then Ozzie notices him and interrogates him about sleeping with Blitzo.

Blitzo looks incredibly ashamed and guilty as Stolas blushes with similar feelings...and hides his face behind his menu; HIS BIGGEST MISTAKE IN THE SERIES SO FAR.

Time Stamp: 12:24

The look on Blitzo's face as he grits his teeth and darts his eyes away basically says

"Yeah, I should have known...boy am I an idiot for trusting him to stand up for me".

(look how SHOCKED he is...wow, this hurts fr ;_;)

This is a silent betrayal on Stolas's part. Afterall, his reputation is on the line, so if he were to defend Blitzo, it confirms they are in fact, dating. He chose his pride over Blitzo and Blitzo is crushed by this betrayal.

Moxxie finishes his song and kisses his wife tenderly. Stolas watches this and also wants to have an affectionate moment with Blitzo (who is rightfully glaring daggers at him) and tries to reach for his hand.

Blitzo rejects his touch and suggests they leave. As they do, Blitzo still looks furious and hurt. Stolas is now realizing how badly he screwed up with a "What have I done?" face (13:41)

He even looks disappointed with himself.

After Blitzo drops Stolas off, he thanks him and tries to smooth over the awkwardness with sweet talk but Blitzo just rolls his eyes in disgust and pulls on his face like "I don't want to hear this bullshit".

He responds coldly and curtly, "Yeah." Stolas makes more suggestions to spend time with him, which just makes him even angrier and he snaps

"I'm not fucking you tonight, okay!

I'm really just..." (14:28)

he pauses to wipe a tear because at this point he can barely hold it together (top notch voice acting and animation directing btw)

"...not in the mood, Stolas."

Stolas still tries to talk him into doing couple things unrelated to sex.

Blitzo's face switches back to anger and frustration because Stolas isn't getting the message so he goes for the blunt tactic;

"Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything but YOU wanting ME to fuck you, okay?"

(14:42)

"You make that really clear all the time."

(again his voice sounds like he's about to break down)

"But I-I just can't do it tonight, okay?"

(Finally meets his eye)

"...I'm sorry."

I believe this is code for "I'm sorry we're even in this situation and how your reputation got damaged. " Or, more painfully, "I'm sorry I'm such an embarrassment to you".

Stolas replies "Okay" and takes a deep breath to compose himself. They say goodnight and depart.

An important note here is that Stolas calls him "Blitzo" instead of "Blitzy" to show more respect.

As Blitzo zooms away coldly, Stolas looks up at the sky with tears in his eyes, surprised at how much it hurts.

He then sits down with his head in his hands in anguish...because he's getting that

"Oh...no. These feelings are real" epiphany.

And as if this wasn't enough angst, Blitzo collapses onto his couch at home, goes through the memories on his phone and starts sobbing.

I'm going to be real with you; this is the most heart-breaking shit I have ever seen in an adult show of this type. It's also the first time a show of this type got me to cry.

The last six minutes have revealed so much information without spoonfeeding it to the audience because the show RESPECTS its audience.

To recap:

*Blitzo takes Stolas on a first official date to use him

*Stolas is extremely happy about it

*Blitzo gets humilated and looks to Stolas for validation

*Stolas betrays him and breaks his heart

*Blitzo snaps that their relationship is nothing more than lust-driven sex

*Stolas realizes he's actually in love with Blitzo and it's a huge problem because (he believes) that it's unrequited.

*Blitzo breaks down because the ONE person whom he thought would protect him didn't do so.

So these two are convinced that neither one loves the other...while the irony is, it's quite the opposite.

Because if Blitzo REALLY didn't feel anything towards Stolas, he would not have gotten this emotional.

Yes, they are both lonely...but I really don't think that's all there is between them.

So..........we know WHEN they started falling...now the question is why;

I think the answer's quite simple; single-target affection.

It was mentioned in S2 that Stolas and Stella did sleep together ONE TIME...but Stolas didn't enjoy it at all. He is stuck with a wife who hates him so much that she put a HIT on him...and a daughter who thinks he's a loser. Blitzo is pretty much the one person in his life who is able to make him happy. That one small, bright spot. He enjoys the sex with him but he also simply enjoys his company, as shown in Ozzie's episode. He is thrilled to simply talk to him about his day...and do anything else that couples do. They're complete opposites. Stolas is an intellectual but naive and sheltered. Blitzo is poorly educated but cynical and street-smart. Opposites attract...though this is likely more from Stolas's POV than Blitzo's.

In other words, Stolas is into bad boys xD lmao

In Blitzo's case, Stolas is the only character who shows him physical affection which he desperately craves. He's pretty tsundere about it most of the time...but I think he actually does enjoy that attention...especially when he's always getting disrespected by Moxxie and Loona..and quite a lot of people around him. BUT he's too scared to get serious with anyone because of past trauma and he also believes that no one could possibly love him as a person. :(

Reasons I Think This Love is Real

Aside from what I pointed out in the Ozzie's episode...there's quite a lot of evidence, esp from Stolas's POV.

After he realizes he's in love, he goes to Asomodeous for an ALTERNATIVE method for Blitzo to use so they will no longer sleep together. He wants to set Blitzo free. Which means he DOES truly love him because love is about being generous to the other person. He COULD be totally selfish about it but he isn't.

Asomodeous mentions how against love potions he is and Stolas agrees. He thinks that's out of the question.

'Look My Way' music video. Lol I don't have to say anything more.

In S2 E6 OOPS

This exchange at 16:57

Fizz: Seems your taste has gotten more 'regal', lately?

Blitz: Yeah, well unlike you, I fuck who I want WHEN I want. I'm not gonna be tied down to some big blue-blood asshole.

Fizz: You coulda fooled me the way Prince was cozying up to you at Ozzie's.

Blitz (gets very defensive) HEY! Stolas only cares about have a rugged peasant raw-dog him into his mattress, okay!

It's nothing...(gets hesistant and looks away)...you know...

(Fizz gives him a 'bitch please' look xD)

"it's nothing else."

Fizz: Then why were you even there?

Blitz: OTHER very important reasons of course.

Fizz: Whatever. I don't actually care.

Blitz: Stolas is just a loud, thirsty BITCH!

(Fizz is rolling his eyes again)

Blitz: He loves feeling the thrill of getting dicked by the lower class.

It's a novelty to him.

Fizz: LITERALLY just said I don't care!

Blitz: And then he'll call me and try to see how my day was!

And he'll pretend to care about me and comment on my photos laugh at my jokes...

Fizz: (Smirking) OH! That's definitely your clue right there that it's all bullshit!

Blitz: I KNOW, RIGHT??

Fizz: (Making a 'What in idiot' expression, shaking his head)

Blitz: HE'S JUST A FAKE, PRIVELEDGED ASSHOLE...

Fizz: Sounds like you just hate him for being a prince!

No one (laughs) and I mean NO ONE pretends to care that much just for a cheap lay.

All right. IF ANYONE knows what real love is like, it's Fizzaroli...who is in a very HEALTHY relationship with Asomodeous. He recognizes the signs because he's IN that place. He sees it...and he's annoyed that Blitzo keeps denying it and brushing it off...yet clearly can NOT stop talking about Stolas (amusing irony)

To sum up (this freaking essay lol) 'Stolitz' ABSOLUTELY has the potential to be pure and true...these two just need to communicate...or Stolas has to PROVE to Blitzo that he's serious about his feelings in another way.

There is no doubt that this ship is 100% endgame and is a case of the 'Earn Your Happy Ending' Trope. I look forward to the rest of the journey. Ron is putting my feelings about Stolitz in a perfect phrase:

[baelabong]

ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴍᴀɴ (ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴇʏᴇ)

ɪᴅᴏʟ!ꜱᴏᴘʜɪᴀ x ɪᴅᴏʟ!ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Plot: you and sophia are the guests for the running man episode, just xute interactions tbh, no warnings

Pairing: Sophia la forteza x Fem! Idol! Reader

Rq: yessir

Bong’s note: mannn i need someone to rizz me up like how sophia casuallg asked y/n out (acting as if my partner doesnt spoil me)

“Welcome back to another episode of Running Man!!!”, the cast members shout together

“Today, we have two special guests. One is a rookie, the other has been in the industry for a while so I guess that makes her a grandma”, Jihyo joked

“Heyyyyyy”, a voice can be heard off camera.

The camera pans to the left revealing y/n in water activities attire, ready for todays games.

The small girl runs towards Jihyo, tackling her into a hug before introducing herself saying “hello everyone! It’s y/n from Blackpink!! I promise i’m not old”,making everybody laugh.

“And the other guest is ….. Sophia from the newest global group Katseye!”, Jongkook yelled out in excitement making Jihyo sideeye him

The camera quickly shifts to reveal Sophia, standing just a few feet away, dressed in a matching water activities outfit. Her expression is a mix of excitement and a hint of shyness as she waves to the cast and crew. The soft-spoken idol gives a small bow, her cheeks tinted with a light blush as she greets everyone.

"Hello! I’m Sophia from Katseye. It’s an honor to be here!" she says, her voice clear yet sweet, earning a chorus of welcoming cheers from the cast.

As Sophia straightens up, her eyes meet Y/N’s for the first time. There’s a brief moment where everything seems to pause, the rest of the world fading away as the two idols take each other in. Y/N’s face lights up with recognition, her smile widening in delight.

"Sophia!" Y/N exclaims, practically bouncing on her feet as she closes the gap between them. She reaches out, pulling Sophia into an enthusiastic hug. "I can’t believe we’re finally meeting in person!"

Sophia’s initial surprise quickly melts into a soft giggle as she returns the hug, her arms wrapping around Y/N gently. "I’ve been looking forward to this too, unnie. I’ve watched so many of your performances… it’s like meeting a real-life superhero!"

Y/N pulls back slightly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Superhero? Now you’re just trying to flatter me," she teases, playfully nudging Sophia’s shoulder.

"No, I mean it!" Sophia insists, her expression sincere. "You’ve been a huge inspiration to me. Getting to work with you today is a dream come true."

Touched by Sophia’s words, Y/N gives her a warm smile, a hint of a blush coloring her cheeks. "Well, I’m excited to team up with you too. Let’s show everyone what we’ve got!"

—————-

Sophia crouched low, her eyes scanning the room for any signs of movement. Her heart pounded in her chest as she crept along the edge of the wall, trying to remain as quiet as possible. The sound of her own breathing was loud in her ears, but she pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand: tearing off the name tags of the opposing team.

She rounded a corner and froze. Just a few feet away, Y/N was peeking out from behind a pillar, her eyes wide with fear as she caught sight of Sophia.

"Sophia, don't do this!" Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of nervousness and playfulness. "We're supposed to be friends!"

Sophia’s lips curled into a mischievous smile as she took a step closer, her eyes locking onto Y/N’s. "I won’t hurt you, unnie," she promised, her voice soft but teasing. "Just stand still, okay?"

Y/N’s eyes widened even more, and she bit her lip, trying to figure out a way to escape. But as she took a step back, her foot slipped, and she stumbled forward, landing right in Sophia’s arms.

Sophia caught her easily, her arms wrapping around Y/N’s waist to steady her. The two girls stared at each other for a moment, the tension between them palpable.

"I guess I’m out of luck, huh?" Y/N said softly, looking up at Sophia with a pout that made her heart skip a beat.

Sophia smirked, her fingers gently brushing a strand of hair out of Y/N’s face. "Maybe… but I can’t let you off that easily. How about we make a deal? I’ll tear off your name tag, but I’ll protect you for the rest of the game."

Y/N’s pout turned into a small smile, and she nodded. "You’ll be my bodyguard? Sounds like a good deal."

Sophia chuckled and held out her hand, and Y/N hesitated for only a moment before raising her arms in surrender, letting Sophia gently pull off her name tag. Sophia pocketed the tag, her fingers lingering on Y/N’s for just a second longer than necessary.

"Deal," Sophia said, her voice softening. "Stick with me, unnie. I’ll make sure no one else gets to you."

Y/N’s smile widened, and she nodded, falling into step beside Sophia as they continued through the game, side by side.

——————

The sound of rushing water filled the air as the Running Man members gathered around the edge of the pool, eyeing the narrow, wobbly bridge that stretched across it. Sophia glanced at Y/N, who was standing next to her, her hands gripping the straps of her safety harness tightly.

Sophia smiled, trying to reassure her. "Don’t worry, unnie. You’ve got this."

Y/N looked at her with wide eyes, her voice shaking slightly as she replied, "Sophia, don’t shoot me!"

Sophia couldn’t help but laugh at the adorable plea, lowering the water gun she was holding. "I won’t, I promise. But you have to focus, okay? Just look at me."

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath before stepping onto the bridge. She kept her eyes on Sophia, her expression one of pure concentration as she carefully placed one foot in front of the other.

But the bridge swayed beneath her, and Y/N’s balance faltered. She let out a small yelp, her arms flailing as she tried to steady herself. The heavy item she was carrying slipped from her grasp, splashing into the water below.

"Sophia! Help!" Y/N cried, her voice tinged with panic as she felt herself tipping dangerously to the side.

Without hesitation, Sophia dropped her water gun and rushed to the edge of the platform. "Don’t worry, I’m here!" she called out, reaching out her hand.

Y/N grabbed onto Sophia’s hand, her grip tight and desperate. With a gentle but firm pull, Sophia helped Y/N regain her balance, guiding her to the end of the bridge where she collapsed onto the platform, breathing heavily.

"You really saved me there, Sophia," Y/N said, her voice filled with gratitude as she looked up at her.

Sophia grinned, helping her to her feet. "I told you I’ve got you, unnie."

Y/N smiled, a soft blush coloring her cheeks as she squeezed Sophia’s hand in silent thanks.

—————

The game of hide-and-seek was well underway, and the tension in the room was high as the Running Man members darted from one hiding spot to another. Sophia was on a mission to find a hidden item, but she knew she had to be careful not to get caught by the opposing team.

She was searching through a pile of props when she heard a familiar voice from across the room. "Oh, hey, have you seen Sophia? I think she’s looking for something."

Sophia’s heart skipped a beat as she recognized Y/N’s voice. She glanced up, just in time to see Y/N casually leading the other team members in the opposite direction. Sophia quickly ducked behind a large cardboard cutout, holding her breath as the other team members walked right past her.

Once the coast was clear, Y/N circled back, her eyes scanning the room until she spotted Sophia’s hiding spot. A mischievous grin spread across her face as she crouched down next to Sophia.

"Did I do good, Sophia?" Y/N whispered, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Sophia couldn’t help but smile, reaching out to pat Y/N’s head gently. "You were perfect, unnie. You’re a natural at this."

Y/N beamed with pride, her grin widening. "Just so you know, I’m rooting for you. So let’s win this together, okay?"

Sophia felt a warm rush of affection for the older girl, nodding in agreement. "Deal. But if we win, I’m buying you dinner."

Y/N’s cheeks flushed a light pink, and she playfully nudged Sophia. "You’re on!"

[orkbutch]

Okay! time to add my accompanying essays with each image from this set of work about why I assigned which types of play to each set of characters, and how Baldur's Gate III supports these in the text of the game. Because I thought about all of this way too much im not joking

First, Context:

All of these are drawings of consensual play happening between these characters after they have put aside any active conflicts between each other. Nonetheless, they utilise the dynamics and emotional conflicts of these characters. Each of these characters are in some way violent people, deeply stressed out by their circumstances, and craving pleasure and connection. Sometimes you need a little pinch and squeal before the end of the world just to get through the night, you know?

Knife play; Shadowheart (D) / Lae'zel (S)

This is definitely the best supported concept in the text of the game because we literally see this happen, though in a significantly different context. I'd say most of us thought it was hot, whether we realised it or not, and I think Shadowheart and Lae'zel probably agreed once they weren't worried about dying! I think its the perfect encapsulation of the tension between SH and LZ both early on and as it resolves. It also expresses both their personalities very succinctly and accurately. SH is absolutely an edgy, paranoid goth, and LZ would love the thrill.

For all the early game SH sees LZ as ruthless and dangerous to her, and resents Gith for the death of her peers. LZ is a threat she wants to neutralize or at least control. At the same time, SH is someone who prefers to avoid conflict and subtly occupy power/advantage in most situations she finds herself in. She has little concern for honour, pride or fairness.

Lae'zel absolutely does. She is a very straight forward and efficient person. For her, SH starts as an inconveniently racist coworker, but at the reveal of the artifact SH becomes more than that; not only has she insulted LZ's people, she's revealed herself to be untrustworthy, very willing to lie and play dirty. Not only does SH seem to hate her, but SH has rules and intentions that are entirely unknown to LZ, and that is obviously frightening.

AND SO I JUST THINK... that potent history would be very hot background for fear based play, which knife play is all about. The heart-racing threat of the point of a dangerous object held at your most tender areas - throats, armpits, mouths, bellies... and the depth of trust and submission to let that occur, to sit in the fear and really enjoy the rush of danger and helplessness, knowing you will be safe. It shows a profound growth in their regard for eachother, a true and total overcoming of old resentments and conflicts.

This is not only a position I think SH would relish - to reduce someone as deadly as LZ to being at her mercy, and to feel deeply trusted with someone's life and pleasure - but also a rare delight for LZ. To take the heart-thumping threat of a battlefield, which she absolutely thrives in, and to toy with and explore that mental space. To be truly stripped back and placed in anothers hands. For that to be an enemy who has become someone she feels so completely safe with.

Beneath this I think there is also a thread of empathy and shared idiosyncratic communication between them. They were both cruelly broken into roles that made it difficult for them to connect to others. Violence is a language both of them understand very well, in different ways, and even after they each turn on their cruel masters, violence retains meaning for them.

For SH, violence is to be enacted and more often endured as a sign of devotion. It's something that carries wisdom, the agony of lessons learned and knowledge that is uncomfortable but ultimately good for you. I don't think this is something she decides is wrong. I think what disillusioned her (beyond the betrayal of being lied to) was how Shar was revealed to have misused her pain. Shar's pain was not a gift, it had no loving measure or purpose. It was a spiteful, excessive control tactic.

I like to imagine SH learning a new way to use her affinity with pain, which I think is a very normal affinity for people to have. To learn how to use pain the way she had wanted it to be used and had come to admire. To make pain bespoke from Shar, her own gift to give and recieve on her own terms.

For LZ, violence is to be mastered for survival and superiority. Pain was only endured to prove you could endure it better than others. Violence is a hammer in a world where all beings are nails, except you and the few other hammers. All else was forsaken for this mastery. Even in sex violence and superiority are key. Vulnerability is terrifying, to make yourself a nail made to be driven by hammers who are certain of their purpose.

What else could be a greater liberating thrill, a more profound sign of trust for LZ? Willing submission to the violence of another. Those she comes to truly love become the source of her bruises. In submission to violence LZ embraces true vulnerability, untethered by tradition, opening herself to another person and trusting them to handle her with care.

In conclusion: These bitches love knife play, it gets them super hot and they feel rly connected after and share wine and cheese and maybe a massage if they have energy as aftercare. LZ will be cuddled but only if SH doesn't ask and just does it. LZ always makes sure to tell SH she admires her skill and had fun. Its very sweet

[peterpparkrr]

Banter (Ch. 2)

Series: Banter

Pairing: Roy Kent x f!Reader

Summary: You and Roy try to pretend your almost-date never happened.

A/N: Whoo! Really pleased that I’m getting this chapter up before the new episode tomorrow. Hope you enjoy it!

(Ch. 1) // (Ch. 3) (Ch. 4) (Ch. 5)

series masterlist

“Fuck.”

“Absolutely not,” You mutter as you grab your bag and pull it over your shoulder, moving to push past Roy and get out of this already embarrassing situation before it can become truly pathetic.

You are not letting this man embarrass you. Not any more than he already has.

God. You’d liked him so much. 

All for him to turn out to be someone that you despised.

You had no idea what she had done to deserve this kind of karma. Maybe it was all the Uber Eats. All those takeaways had definitely been bad for the environment. And now you were paying the price. 

“Wait,” Roy called after you as he followed you out onto the pavement.

“This is already embarrassing enough, okay?” You hiss as you whip around to face him. Your voice cracks on you ‘okay’ in a way that makes your face heat up.

Roy’s back straightened as he pulled his shoulders back.

“Can we just pretend this never happened?” You ask when Roy doesn’t reply. 

You’re desperate for this conversation to end so that this horrible night can end too. You can’t believe how stupid you’d been. An hour ago you’d been giddy. You’d been imagining an amazing date with a great guy that would lead to equally amazing sex. And maybe even a good, happy, healthy relationship. 

And now those hopes had been painfully dashed. You’d been rejected the moment Roy had walked in and realized you were his date. 

He’d hated you since he’d met you. That had been painfully obvious in every interaction you’d had since. And how he’d seen you in a vulnerable position. This was awful.

“Yeah,” He replied gruffly. “Whatever.” 

“Great,” You replied before you pursed your lips and nodded at him. “Goodnight.” 

“Erh,” Roy grunted before you turned on your heels and walked down the street as quickly as you could without it looking like you were training to flee. 

Roy sighed and rubbed a hand down his face before shoving his hands into his pockets and heading down the pavement in the opposite direction. Even though he was parked in the same direction as you.

But he’d rather take the scenic route back to his car than have to interact with you again. 

And he needed to take a walk to clear his head.

Roy Kent hadn’t wanted to get on a dating app.

He hadn’t wanted to date. Period. 

But when he’d made the mistake of complaining to his niece Phoebe about the insane dating app that Keeley was pushing on all the players she’d turned to him with that perceptive look that Roy found so disconcerting on his nine-year-old niece.

“Don’t you want to find someone who makes you happy?” 

“No photos and no names means you get to know people for their personalities, doesn’t it?” “You could find someone who you get along with.”

Roy had grunted in annoyance at Phoebe. 

But he hadn’t been able to brush what she said aside. 

So the next time he had to pick her up from school for his sister he’d hesitantly asked her what he should put on his profile.

And the way her face had lit up with delight was more than enough to convince Roy to give it a try.

He honestly hadn’t expected to meet anyone. 

But you’d messaged him. And then he’d replied and you’d never stopped. 

You were easy to talk to and with the anonymity, Roy didn’t need to worry about you just laughing at his jokes because he had a nice house, or because you could sell pictures of him to the tabloids. 

You actually found him funny. 

Roy had opened up to you. 

He’d told you things he hadn’t told anyone else. 

He’d thought he was ready to meet you when you asked.

He’d wanted to meet you.

And then he’d locked eyes with you when you walked through the door. Your thinly-veiled distaste wasn’t even hidden when you saw him. 

And when you realized he was your date and you were his. 

You’d looked so disappointed.

It had cut at a part of Roy that he didn’t even like to admit existed.

You’d said it was embarrassing. The idea of going on a date with him was so embarrassing to you that you’d almost cried.

What was Roy supposed to do with that?

And how was he supposed to pretend that tonight had never happened?

“Hiya babes, what were you up to this weekend? I didn’t hear from you at all,” Keeley greets you as you walk into the AFC Richmond building on Monday morning. 

She has too much energy for this early. And you’re not even hungover, but you’re suddenly wishing you’d worn your sunglasses this morning.

“Oh, I just needed a quiet weekend in, getting stuff done and all that,” You tell her. 

It’s not a lie. You did spend the weekend in your flat pretending you were dead to the world so that you could watch Love is Blind and cry about the relationships on the show (and definitely not anything to do with the state of your personal life).

“Yeah?” You knew that Keeley knew something was up. But she was also a good enough friend that she didn’t push you any further.

You would break down and admit everything to Keeley sooner or later. You both knew it. It was just a matter of if it would be tonight or eighteen months from now. And Keeley didn’t mind. She’d be there to listen whenever you decided you were ready. 

Keeley chattered along beside you as you moved to grab your equipment out of the storage closet that Keeley let you use to store it in. 

You’re lugging it all out into the hallway, Keeley still talking away, your camera bag in her arms, when you make solid contact with someone as you run into them.

“Shit, sorry,” You murmur as you try to maintain your grasp on the bags you’re holding onto and have tucked under your arms.

You look up to apologize further when you realize who you’ve run into.

“Roy!” You exclaim as your tripod drops from your grasp to the floor.

Roy mutters your name as he stoops down to pick it up and wordlessly hands it to you before pushing past you and continuing down the hallway.

You and Keeley turn to watch him walk away.

“That was…” Keeley mutters.

“What?” You ask as your head whips around to look at her, sounding way more defensive than you meant to.

“Even more awkward than last week,” Keeley replies. “I don’t understand why the two of you are so tense around each other.”

“Hmm,” You hummed in a non-committed reply. 

Today’s shoot was for action shots of the team so you were out on the field for Richmond’s practice. Granted, you were in the stadium and not on the practice field, but everyone was looking around nervously like they’d never been on the field before.

“Where do you want ‘em?” Ted asked as you made your way onto the field. 

“I want these to be as natural as possible, just run them through your normal drills, and I’ll move to get the shots. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

Roy muttered something unintelligible under his breath and you managed to hold your tongue as moved past him to find the best light. 

“I met someone,” You blurted out a few days later at one of your and Keeley’s coffee dates. 

So it would be sooner rather than later. 

Keeley shrieked as she nearly spilled her latte.

“Oh my god! Holy shit!” She hissed as she stared at you with wide eyes.

“On Bantr-” You start to explain when she nods for you to continue.

“I knew it! I knew you would! God, I knew it would be perfect for you.”

“I asked him out-” You continue.

“Yeah? How was it? It must have been amazing if you ignored me all weekend,” Keeley replied as she continued to pepper you with her questions in her excitement. “Holy shit, were you having wild sex all weekend? I knew you were too tired on Monday for it to have just been a chill weekend in!”

“No,” You reply with a sharp shake of your head. “It was Roy,” You tell her in a stage whisper.

“You had sex with Roy?!” She full-on screams, causing the entire cafe to turn and look at you.

“No! I didn’t! That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” You hiss at her through the mortification of all of these strangers now knowing your business. “The guy on Bantr turned out to be Roy,” You repeat.

Keeley paused.

“And you didn’t have sex?” She asks as her forehead pinches in confusion. “No! We obviously didn’t go on the date!” You reply in exasperation. Confused by why Keeley is being so intentionally dense. You know she loves to see the best in people. Just look at her dating history, but she’s got to understand why the two of you together was a no-go.

“Why?” She asks.

“Because he hates me!” You explain. “We both agreed to pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Did he?” Keeley asks, her forehead still pinched together. You’re tempted to reach out your hand and smooth out the wrinkles. Knowing Keeley she’ll complain about you causing them once she catches a glimpse in the mirror of them.

“Yes, he was clearly disappointed when we both realized what had happened.”

You could still see the permanent scowl on his face.

“He walked out on you?” Keeley asked as her eyes widened.

“Well, no, technically I walked out first,” You reply, causing Keeley to open her mouth. “But he followed me!” You add before she can interject again.

“And is that when he told you he hated you and never wanted to see you again?”

“Um...” You stall.

“Did you call it off or did he?” Keeley repeats.

“I did!” You admit. “But he never talks. If I hadn’t said it we would have just stared at each other in silence until one of us walked away.”

“What if he was just nervous?” 

“That’s definitely not what was happening,” You scoff. “Have you seen that man?”

“Yes, but you’re one of the sexiest, smartest, coolest girls I know,” Keeley replied. “Anyone would be a little intimidated by you, even Roy.”

“Yeah,” You reply. You know Keeley’s hyping you up the same way she hypes everyone up, and you appreciate the compliment, you always do, but even Keeley has to know that Roy Kent is out of your league. Along with being a complete and total ass.

“You don’t have to believe it, but you also have no reason to believe that he didn’t want to go on that date with you,” Keeley tells you.

“You have to talk to him,” She adds.

You groan loudly as you slump back in your chair. 

“I can’t do that.”

Keeley shrugs. 

“You have to.”

[sorcerous-caress]

Tiefling with a human kink finally bags a human baddie. He’s sweating just trynna act normal and not ask the human a really indecent question

"Do you cu-" clearing his throat, Ardour tail's end dug into his ankle. "Come." He corrected himself, "Do you come here often?" The tail curled around his leg tightly.

"Here?...my own house?" Expecting irony or the build up to a joke, turning your gaze away from the TV screen as you lowered the remote to face him.

Only to be met with a sincere expression. For a second, the suspicion of the guy in front of you being an idiot crosses your mind before you immediately brush it aside.

"I guess. You know, since I live here." You went back to scrolling through the list of movies.

"Cool cool."

Ardour's sharp claws traced the soft surface of the couch underneath him, taking advantage of your distracted gaze to blatantly trail his gaze up and down your thighs. Drinking in the sight of your hips. Hand curling into a fist to prevent his claws from tearing the couch.

Humans are really...so squishy. He pictures your own hand pressing between your thighs, touching yourself and chasing pleasure with desperation. How different would his own hand feel around you? Would you like grinding against the bumps and sharp bones underneath his skin? Would you enjoy the rough infernal texture of his skin against your fragile, easily injured human one?

"Did you ever fuck yourself on this couch?"

He can't say that.

"Did I ever what?"

"Uh...meet a tiefling before? Other than me?"

"No not really." You press the remote's button harder than usual, "you're my first" your eyes suddenly find the floor interesting before going back to your scrolling.

Your first.

Ardour closes his eyes, taking a sharp breath.

Your first infernal cock to stretch you open and fill your insides with his cum. The big bad tiefling defiling the pretty human, pouring sin down your throat.

"Have you tasted a tiefling's cum before? Would you like to?"

No.

Inviting him to your house, allowing him to see you in your comfortable clothes, complimenting his horns.

Being such a fucking tease.

Heats build up inside him. Putting a small pillow on his lap to cover the growing tent between his legs as he scoots over to you.

"You've never had a cock littered with bumps before, You've never been properly fucked so just bend over and-"

Shut it.

Behave. Act normal. He can't fuck up another date with a human.

...maybe if he starts innocently? You don't know much about tieflings so he can always play that card.

Ardour's tail leaves his leg as it wraps the other way towards you, settling on your lap and brushing against your stomach.

The strange sensation makes you glance down at it, a questioning look on your face.

"Oh sorry!" He fiegns ignorance, "it does that sometimes, it has a mind of its own."

He watches as you take in the false information he's feeding you at face value. Smiling and saying it's no problem.

"Is it okay if I-" your other hand moves towards your lap.

"You can touch it." Ardour immediately replies, "I don't mind. You can even kiss and lick it, shove it down your throat to get it wet enough so I can use it to open up your tight-"

Stop.

"And my horns too, if you want. I saw you glancing at them" he says instead.

You beam at his words, delightful surprise in your eyes before a conflict of embarrassment washes over you at realising he noticed your glances.

Still, you nod eagerly.

The sight of you has his heart in a vice grip. Is curiosity really this adorably intense in humans?

He scoots even closer, his knee brushing against your own as he lowers his head to present his horns. His position's slight resemblance of a bow doesn't go past him as his his sharp pointy teeth bite his lower lip to suppress a whimper.

A tiefling bowing to a human. It feels fitting in a way. It was your race that was slutty brave enough to get fucked mate with demons, gracing the tieflings with the gift of existence.

Worshipping the humans is a thought many races would scoff over. The notion by itself is enough to send a high elf into hysterical laughter.

Yet all he can think about is kissing up your feet, licking your ankle, gnawing at your thigh with his razorsharp teeth until you have mercy and spread your legs open.

"Do I have to beg to sleep with you? Do you want to see me kneeling on the floor pleading for your permission to touch myself?"

He can't make up his mind if he wants to worship you or put you in your place the same way his demon ancestors must have.

Just what kind of humiliating acts the humans submitted to in order for the demons to agree to breed them? What kind of degradation did the human kind endure while being stuffed with burning hot cum or being milked for all of their worth?

...do you miss it? Do you want him to replicate it?

"I'll ruin you to anyone else. Fuck all of your holes and plug the cum inside with my tail. Make you nothing but a pathetic fleshlight for me to use and squeeze like my ancestors have always done to your kind, human."

His thoughts are cut short by the feeling of your finger tracing up his horn, testing the waters.

The feeling is electric on his end. His teeth dig deeper into his lips as he suppresses any sounds threatening to slip out.

"Please touch me. Fuck please please, I want you to pull them. Pull my horns. I don't care if you break them. Just don't stop."

Bit by bit, your touches get bolder, abandoning the remote to wrap both of your hands around his horns. Stroking up and down, brushing the tips and experimenting with this new texture to your heart's content.

This new position presses your chest against his face without realising it. Ardour feels his hands shaking as he stares in front of him.

The urge to touch you, squeeze you and bite you. Mark every corner of your body until you can't look in a mirror without the ghost feeling of his touches hovering over your skin.

This was his plan. This was his doing, so why does it feel like he bit off more than he can chew?

A throbbing between his legs, his cock painfully hard. His claws tear through the pillow on his lap as he drags his fingers dow, imagining it's your plush thighs instead.

"That weird elf wasn't kidding when he said the human body was made for nothing but sex." His hand slips underneath the pillow to press against his aching cock for any sort of relief. "You're not even aware of how much of a slut you're being, are you? That's how in your nature it is."

Ah.

His eyes open wide in panic as your hands abruptly stop touching his horns.

He said that out loud.

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

Dang it I just got a thought. after the couples got together during one of the thunderstorms, one of the minis turn on music to drown out the thunder and dogday asks catnap to dance and with the music going downstairs prototype asks angel to dance and they just softly sway together in a little soft moment

Okay I just HAD to write something about this. Hope you enjoy it!

Pairing(s): DayNap, Prometheus.

Warnings: None!

"Do you guys like this song?"

There's a pause as Marie Long Legs lifts Julie up so she can properly adjust the sound. The small green bunny's ears twitch, and she scratches her back while waiting for a response. Marie nods: "It's pretty good".

The others agree. A thunder echoes outside, and you have to gently squeeze Picky's arm so she won't collapse next to you. Carefully, you let her rest on your lap. The song is now louder, and Julie is tapping her bunny feet against the wooden floor.

"No more bad thunders for us!", she proclaims. You nod in approval, and she jumps on her feet, other small critters following her lead.

"Maybe you guys should dance", you suggest to no one in particular. "Get all of that energy out".

The toys mutter and talk amongst each other, and, after making sure Picky is alright, you let go of her arm and stretch yourself, not keen on the idea of getting up from your spot. Elliot moves behind you, and you feel one of his arms drag you closer to him. You look up as he stares right at you, his eyes glowing red. You nod at him with a smile, dragging your blanket closer to you two.

Hoppy is already silently clapping her hands by the time you return your attention back to the kids. Julie copies her movement, the other small toys moving.

That's when Dogday gets up from the pile of cushions, pillows and blankets made for the occasion. He stretches his arms, and, with a small smile, turns towards Catnap, lazily spread across his own corner of the living room.

"May I have this dance?"

Theo blinks slowly, before playfully rolling his eyes and getting up from his spot. "Of course".

"Ew, romance", Hoppy shows her tongue, receiving a smack from Catnap's tail. She laughs way louder than what you were expecting for such a simple joke, and you smile. "Dumbass".

Catnap gets up on two legs, tail wagging behind him as Dogday holds him close. You could pinpoint the exact moment the feline's world melted away, leaving only his partner there. And Dogday knew it, chuckling in amusement as he guided Catnap on their little dance.

"Awnt", Bobby mutters, next to you and Picky. "It's like seeing a little royal ball!"

"Who's the prince, then?", Poppy asks, nodding to the song's rhythm.

"Dogday", the bear suggests. "And Catnap is also a prince, but he's from another kingdom".

"We're hearing you two, you know?", Dogday replies, still chuckling. Catnap is purring, a signal to everyone inside to know that, at least for now, they're all safe. "But I like the idea".

"Hm", Catnap agrees. "It's not too far to what you actually are in real life".

Poppy, Dogday and Bobby all chuckle, amused. Picky is genuinely smiling as well. You can see Bubba relax against the couch he's using, petting Bunzo without a care in the world. "Not too far from our D&D sessions, either", the elephant points out.

"Are you guys really leaving only us to dance?", Dogday asks, being spun by Catnap.

"Naaah", the feline complains. "Don't say that, it's more space for us".

Tlic, tlic, tlic, everyone hears, as Delight, ready as ever, jumps from her pile of pillows, leaving her book aside, energetically dancing her way towards you and the other girls. She offers her hand to Picky, grabbing her cane with her remaining one, and the two of them giggle before joining the dance floor.

"Ah, noooooo", Catnap laments, playfully hitting the duo with his tail. Dogday cannot stop giggling as he and his partner try to give space to Delight, who simply decides to occupy more and more.

"You're going to knock us out of the dance floor!", he accuses them.

"Uh-uh!", Delight objects, laughing out loud. "Hoppy, Kickin, come here, darlings! Marie, Poppy, you too~!"

It's not long before a majority of the toys join the main couple on their many attempts at dancing. You stay in your sofa for a while, before getting up and wrapping Crafty on a warm blanket. She smiles back at you, camera on hands as she films the disorganized symphony.

"I'll go check in your other parent", you tell the group. "Be right back!"

"Yeah, sure, dad", Kickin replies, causing everyone, including you, to laugh. You show your tongue to him, and he replies the gesture. "Nah!"

"Nah!", you repeat, leaving the living room.

You pause, knocking on the bedroom's door before entering. You can still hear the song Judy put on for everyone to dance to, even after you make sure the room is once again closed.

"Elliot?", you call.

"Angel?"

You put your hands on your hips, amused, as you watch the giant pile of flesh, fluff and metal get up from another pile, this time made of pillows, various plushies, and extra-large blankets sewn together to fit his form better. He grabs all the cloth that covers his face, revealing a fleshy cover with brilliant red eyes.

"Looks like no lightning has hit you", you observe, approaching the Prototype. He leaves room for you to sit on your bed. "Just wanted to see if you were okay. The kids are dancing in the living room".

"I heard", he mutters, before hiding his face in the blankets again. "I saw".

"You saw?"

"I taught Theo how to dance", he continued, ignoring how amused you were at how, despite all this time, he was stil as stealthy as ever. "Did I tell you this?"

"... Yes. More than once, in fact", you lie against him. "Do you want to tell me about it again?"

"...", Elliot replies. "No".

"No? But you love talking about that!"

"I know".

"Bad day?"

You yelp in surprise when, all of a sudden, he uncovers his face and human torso, grabbing you and dragging you out of bed. You hold Prototype for dear life as he laughs in your face, amused. "You fell for this again".

"You scared me!", you groan, being put back on the floor. Elliot had gotten out of the blankets while you were trying to not fall (as if he ever dropped you on purpose), his amalgamation of a body now free from the bed. "What is it now?"

"The kids are dancing, correct?", he repeats, partially using your voice. You nod: "You should dance".

"And you should get out of the bedroom for now. I don't want you to have another nightmare without me being nearby to help".

"I will get out of the bedroom. But we should dance, first".

"We?"

The Prototype then showed his hand, palm open for you to hold, like you always do. You shake your head, letting him drag you close to him. His touch is half-cold like a machine and half-warm like a normal person, and the way he moves is still a bit broken and unelegant here and there, but you cling to him.

Slowly, one step at a time, you and Elliot try to make a little dance, going back-and-forth. He smiles (or at least attempts this the best way he can), and you laugh when he tries to spin you around, only for you to almost fall out of his grasp.

"So/rry", he mutters. "We are not used to doing this as much as we want to".

"We, as in you and me, or you, as in you and the other yous?"

"Both".

"Hm".

The song still echoes in the background. It's soft and warm, and you give Elliot a hug as you two try to make-do of your dance. His torso seems to relax under your touch, just like how your mind does when he's around.

"We should dance more", you suggest. "May be a good habit to keep. You're gettind old, Elliot, don't want to see you forgetting how to move".

"I can't get old anymore. You, on the other hand...".

You yelped when Elliot lifted you up, spinning you around him, but not putting you down. No, no, he really wanted to hold you.

"You... You will. Which is why we should dance more. You're getting old".

"Wait at least 50 more years before saying that".

He chuckles. You roll your eyes and give him a kiss on the forehead, making him stop moving. Then it is your turn to laugh, getting on the floor again and holding his hands so he can follow you.

"C'mere, big guy. The kids are going to love this if the critters and Bunzo don't try to use you as a mountain to climb".

Elliot merely laughs, opting to simply follow your command.

[send-up-my-heart-to-you]

nothing sets me crying more than reading the teasers for the wicked powers/the black volume of the dead, so why not overanalyze them and wish for death in the process (i got all of them from the page on fandom)

❗️spoilers ahead ❗️

he kissed each finger, and with each one of them spoken a word. five kisses, five words. his last.

no 🫶🫶 (im hoping this is a flashback gurl plz i hope its not the ‘lightwood death in each series’ thing coming after my life)

—————————

"oh, god, the lovebirds," magnus said, pulling the pillow off his face. "i hate happy couples."

this could be anything tbh but prolly gonna be in tbvotd

—————————

belatedly, she realized something else. "do you... have anything?"

he didnt seem to have recovered from her last comment. "but do you mean - wait, do i have what?"

she slitted her eyes at him. "something important."

"like what? the phone number for the white house?" a moment later, under her withering glare, realization dawned. "oh." his was the expression of someone who has run out of gas in the middle of the desert, miles from help. "i..."

there are literally zero names in this one but i think its gonna be smth w dru and jaime (maybe the eternidad ??) but i swear if it turns out to be a joke imma flip a table

—————————

"what if i just love you? what if i love you but i never touch you or talk about it, what would happen then?"

i think this might happen after a conversation between kit and ty where either kit says “its too dangerous to love me” or “i dont love you” and then ty replies w this

—————————

"well, its a bit ironic, isnt it?"

"what do you mean?"

"all that effort to convince you i wasnt in love with you, and here i am, dying in your arms."

this is gonna kill me i just know it, but i have a feeling its gonna be kit saying the first and third lines and hes talking to ty, and then i can imagine it saying “dont say that,” ty said furiously

—————————

his face crumpled. "he hates me," he said. "all i do is love him, but he hates me, he just hates me, i dont know why."

clearly gonna be ty talking about kit (to either livvy or dru ???)

—————————

there was nothing less sexy than an angry-looking cat on your bed.

okay this is 100% magnus’s pov in tbvotd 💀💀

—————————

"actually, its short for maximum lightwood," said magnus. "as in the most amount of lightwood you can have."

… no comment. actually, yea i do have smth to say. i love magnus.

—————————

"no one who loved you would want you to sacrifice your own happiness."

if we’re going by the thing where kit doesnt want ty to love him for his safety, then someone is gonna say this to kit for sure

—————————

alec was beginning to understand how the slings and arrows of fortune and history had shaped magnus and made him what he was. it was a delightful sort of discovery, as getting to know magnus always had been. magnus was probably the one person in the world who'd never bored him.

im craving more malec scenes please dear god

—————————

"i was thinking about monogrammed towels," said isabelle.

"my name is going to be simon lewis lovelace lightwood," said simon. "no monogrammed towels."

first off, i forgot that simon wants to take isabelles last name

second, his initials are technically S.L.L.L oh my lord

—————————

it was late, and someone was trying to break into the high warlock of brooklyn’s apartment.

​magnus bane, the high warlock in question, felt this behavior was rash and foolish. he’d been passed out on his still-made bed, too exhausted to slip under the burgundy and emerald sheets, or even take off his robe, when he heard the noise of his window sliding open. he was grateful for the robe. he felt it would be demoralizing to face housebreakers in nothing but silk pajama bottoms.

​also, the housebreakers had done nothing to deserve such a sight.

seeing magnus bane in nothing but silk pajama bottoms is the stuff of dreams

jokes (even tho i meant it with full seriousness) aside, this is definitely gonna be the opening lines of tbvotd. if it turns out to not be, i will never show my face in public again because of how sure i am right now

[ochasuyu]

(some of) my timeskip 1A headcanons

uraraka ochako - has gained weight since graduation; she can afford to eat better now and she does so with delight. 1a jokes that if you ever need a good meal, ochako's apartment is where you'll find some — but it's only half a joke, considering people do show up at hers for meals sometimes. - most of her jewelry is red, pink, or themed around pomegranate flowers, and at formal events it's very common for her hair to be pulled up in that spiky bun. some people recognize this for what it is; a tribute to himiko toga (pomegranates were her favorite fruit, after all) but it's become more well known as an uravity thing. - does a ton of public speaking (at schools, temples, galas, anywhere that'll let her) to talk about her quirk counseling project; always attributes the inspiration for it to himiko toga by name. the world will not forget the tragedy of himiko so long as ochako is there to tell her story. - her rank doesn't matter all that much to her, save for the fact that the publicity grants her more power in expanding her quirk counseling project. she's sat comfortably in the top 10 since she started it. - she makes a point of calling her parents every weekend; they're still momma and daddy to her. - very smart with her money. everything is budgeted despite her making enough to not truly need to do that anymore — she sets aside a portion of every paycheck for izuku's hero suit, a portion of it for her parents, but she puts a ton of her money into savings. asui tsuyu - the mom friend, somehow. makes a habit of texting all of her friends at least once a week to make sure they're doing okay. - has an instagram account where she posts sketches she's done, pictures she's taken, whatever it may be. it never features anything outwardly heroic and people sometimes call her the "slice-of-life hero" because of it. - never shook her bluntness (autism...) and interviewers both love and hate her for it - absolutely adores taking on interns - works with shouji, kouta, and tokoyami frequently to speak about against anti-mutant rhetoric todoroki shouto - very rare sighting in any of the 1a groupchats. - media darling, which made him very uncomfortable at first — they often wanted to know about touya, or his family, and rarely about shouto himself. he's never fully shaken this discomfort, but he does accept the power of a positive media image, so he doesn't avoid them. - exceptionally kind to his fans, especially children. - known among hero circles for his casework. underground heroes appreciate him a lot — he's not judgemental of them, even incidentally - nearly impossible to schedule anything with. his friends try so hard but he's always so busy. - 6 years after graduation, ochako and tenya convinced him to schedule himself a weekend off every month so he could visit his family, go out with friends, or just take the time to himself. - one of the biggest contributors to izuku's hero suit. bakugou is half-convinced that he's taking some of endeavor's paychecks to help with it. - has modeled for yaomomo's clothing brand a few times and accidentally became an icon for scar positivity because of it - has his own agency, but very rarely takes interns. the only intern he's taken on in recent memory was eri I WROTE OUT BOTH IZUKU'S AND JIROU'S AND IT WON'T LET ME POST THEM HELP