#I’ll be honest there’s elements of it that I like

[purple-plum-petals]

Hello! I saw your homicipher requests were open, and I wanted to request some general mr scarletella fluff if possible! :D

⊱ General Fluffy Headcanons ⊰ || Mr. Scarletella Headcanons

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮ Character(s): Mr. Scarletella (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (and horror-elements), Unhealthy Obsession/Possessiveness, Cultural Barriers (Mr. Scarletella Doesn’t Fully Comprehend Certain Emotions/Expresses Them Differently Than a Human Would). Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, Romantic or Platonic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~900 words Request: “Hello! I saw your homicipher requests were open, and I wanted to request some general mr scarletella fluff if possible! :D” Author’s Note: I’ll be honest with y’all, writing straight-up fluff for these characters is really hard to do lmao. I try to stay as canon-compliant as possible (it’s low-key a curse, but it’s such a great way to practice writing 😔), so I hope these are fluffy enough for you given, well… the source material as a whole haha. Mr. Scarletella wasn’t originally one of my favorite characters from the game, but he’s honestly starting to grow on me at a concerning speed – shout-out to all the artists on Twitter who have added to my enjoyment of this man. ✌️

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

🩸: Whenever it rains, Mr. Scarletella is always standing right there next to you, holding his red umbrella over your form so you do not become drenched because of the dreary weather. He takes his job very seriously, too, not minding how cold water causes his clothing to cling to his already deathly cold skin. He does it with an ever-present smile, too, watching you with unblinking eyes while he happily follows you around. Mr. Scarletella doesn’t get cold, he typically doesn’t feel any physical sensation in the first place, so getting a little wet while being able to keep you dry is something he doesn’t mind doing for you. If you invite him to join you under the umbrella, he falters for a bit before eventually standing next to you, shielding both of you from the rain (he loves being able to stand that close to you – he can almost feel the warmth radiating from you, and he finds himself craving it even after the two of you have found somewhere to take shelter). 

🩸: If there’s something you express an interest in, whether or not Mr. Scarletella is around when you make the off-handed comment, you’ll wake up to it lying right in front of your door. It’s honestly a bit creepy sometimes, just waking up to the article of clothing you looked at for longer than three seconds or the book whose title you briefly mentioned sitting at your feet when you open the door. In the past, any gift he left used to just be haphazardly placed in front of the door, and it reminded you of when a cat would catch a mouse and bring it to their owner (you’re not going to talk about the time you woke up to a literal human heart waiting for you, though…). However, Mr. Scarletella noticed that humans who exchanged gifts typically had them wrapped in paper, so he started to mimic their behavior, too, in the hopes you would like them more. Sure, his wrap-jobs were bad, almost hilariously so, but it was the thought that mattered. 

🩸: Whenever he looks at you, his pupils further dilate (even more than they usually are – it’s almost to the point where his entire eye is purely black, the red of his irises lost in the dark void of his gaze). Mr. Scarletella loves being able to just look at you, needing nothing more in life. He’ll watch you with an unblinking stare while you do literally anything. Whether it be cleaning your home or making yourself a meal, he will observe you as if you were the most interesting thing to have ever existed. As stated before, Mr. Scarletella is very good at mimicking human behaviors so, sometimes, he’ll ask if he can join you in whatever task you’re doing. He’ll copy the way you clean the floors or perfectly execute chopping the vegetables for the dish you were making after showing him what to do a single time. He’s very pleasant to be with during moments like these since he’s very good at acting like a human most of the time (other times, though – say if you need something from the top shelf – his body will twist and morph in very unsettling ways... It just emphasizes that, even if he’s good at pretending, he still isn’t human at the end of the day).   

🩸: Being with Mr. Scarletella means that you cannot have an unserious relationship, it’s just not in his vocabulary (because he’s obsessive, especially regarding you). He’s devoted to you entirely – body, mind, and soul – gladly letting you have the red umbrella to do with it whatever you wish. He’ll shiver slightly whenever you hold it in your hands, your touch is so strangely gentle as you softly run your fingers along the handle or press a kiss to the unassuming object. It hurts but in a different way. A part of him wishes you would just throw the umbrella to the ground, dig your heel into it, and have him experience a pain that was easier for him to understand… but you don’t. He loves your sweet touches, even if it’s painful and causes his chest to ache. He finds himself wishing he could touch you in that way, too, his ghost-like caresses causing your skin to tingle with static whenever his feather-light hands graze over your flesh (he loves cuddles and loving touches, even if he can’t experience them with you in a conventional sense). 

🩸: If you ever find yourself being bothered by someone who won’t leave you alone or someone who won’t take no for an answer, well… they may or may not end up missing. If you don’t want Mr. Scarletella to take care of anyone who is bothering you for you, you’ll definitely have to explain that it’s not appropriate because of the differences in your cultures – death and murder are common in the other world, after all (I’d also explain to him that he cannot harm or threaten people you care about, either, since he honestly wants you all to himself). This does mean, though, that you know that you’re safe no matter where you are. Mr. Scarletella is always watching you so, if you find yourself in a situation where your safety is at risk, you honestly have nothing to fear. He’ll keep you safe – you’re his love, his world, his reason for living, and he won’t let someone else take that from him.

[superm4ks]

https://www.tumblr.com/maxarchive/767895471901507584?source=share

We've been knew but also I neeeed ur honest reaction lmao

Full post by the goat @rb19 @maxarchive here

BBC always insufferable but this just ridiculous. Asking an F1 driver if he wud naturally give somebody room in a corner exit might be most depressing shit I have ever had to read wid my own 2 eyes. Nvm that he's asking Max Verstappen of all people ... ‘racing another driver' by letting them complete an overtake just because they feel entitled to get to the front is literally antithetical to the whole concept of motor racing 😐 Its antithetical to 'competition' period .. Competition isnt fair, isnt deserved, isnt victimless. If it were, it wud not be ‘competition’, it wud be a game for children. Max was never treated like a child competing against adults and now 9 years later he’s getting grilled on what makes him such an aggressive competitor. I wrote a lil bit on dirty vs clean driving that I think sums up p well why Max will always get these kind of questions and others don’t.

The wdc exists to ensure that the human element remains the center piece of a motorized competition. Without the drivers championship, we wud grade these bitches on one lap pace and long run simulations and call it a day because a machine is easy to evaluate, a drivers handling of said machine over the course of 24 races is a much more interesting and compelling story. 'why wud u as an driver choose to utilize the full width of the track and not just roll out the red carpet for the pookie behind u 🥺' shud honestly get u sh0t as a journalist and I mean it.

If u give the full thing a read ((for @rb19)) Max is quick to mention how he cud tell even back in diapers karts which drivers were like him, and which drivers were more .. passive around the outside. He calls it a 'driver-related' thing. Some allow it, some dont. The ones who dont, who wud push him off track or pressure him into locking up, Max describes as having a lil more of a 'racing instinct'. What he leaves unsaid is that what separates these ‘passive drivers’ from the 1s ‘wid instinct’ is that this instinct is exactly what makes it impossible for him to just allow a driver to overtake him around the outside without putting up a fight to defend his position. It’s built into him. It’s how he races. And believe it or not.. and I’ll hold T Kravitz’ sweaty fucking hand when I say this, that’s completely fine. It’s fine to go racing wid a negative delta and not just roll over and let sweet Lando complete a single overtake. It’s fine to use the car and flirt wid guidelines if it keeps the point deficit as small as possible. It’s fine to fight for position in the. cars fight for position sport. It’s ok. I promise.

And lemme add 1 last thing. What people berate and insult and reprimand Max for now is the same shit they were checking off a list titled ‘future F1 champion’ when he was 13 years old. They knew, like Lauda knew, that to be as fast, as strong, as talented, quick in slow and fast corners, assertive, fearless, you need to be deliberate wid ur car as few in the history of the sport have been. U need to be so deliberate and confident in ur wheel that when someone asks u if u wud consider letting someone overtake u around the outside because 🥺 that’s so UNFAIR that u wud not let a car overtake u in the car racing competition 🥺 u can very calmly say ‘no lol’ instead of snapping ur fingers and unleashing Helmut Mario from a hidden hatch on the ceiling

[movingmusically]

Caught Feeling: Wild Card - One Shot

Author’s Note:

I know absolutely nothing about baseball so apologies if there are any mistakes.

Word Count: 6,574

Masterlist

The idea started over breakfast, sunlight streaming through the kitchen window and catching the golden strands of Hank’s hair, making them glow faintly. He was sitting across from me, his phone in one hand and a half-eaten piece of toast in the other, his brow furrowed as he scrolled. I sipped my coffee, watching him with quiet amusement. The small frown pulling at the corners of his mouth was the kind of expression I’d come to recognise—he was deep in thought, something occupying his mind enough to distract him from the food on his plate.

“Everything okay?” I asked, setting my mug down on the table.

He looked up at me, his face clearing slightly as he gave a small, distracted smile. “Yeah, it’s just…” He hesitated, glancing back at his phone like he wasn’t sure how much to say. “The Giants are coming in to town. Mets versus Giants, wildcard game. It’s a one-game playoff, winner goes to the postseason.”

His tone was casual, but I caught the quiet yearning beneath the words, a faint wistfulness that tugged at something in me. It wasn’t hard to see how much it meant to him, even if he was trying to downplay it.

“Sounds intense,” I said, leaning back in my chair and studying him. “You thinking about going?”

Hank sighed and set his phone on the table, his fingers drumming lightly against the surface. “I’d love to, but tickets are probably insane.” He paused, glancing up at me again. “And, you know, it’s not really your thing.”

I tilted my head, my eyes narrowing slightly as I studied him. There was a flicker of something in his expression—a mix of longing and resignation that made my chest tighten. “What if I said I wanted to go?”

His eyebrows shot up, surprise flickering across his face. “You want to go? To a baseball game?”

“Why not?” I said with a shrug, trying to keep my tone casual even as his reaction made me smile. “You’ve already taught me the basics, and it’s not every day your team plays a game this important. Besides…” I leaned forward slightly, letting a hint of playfulness slip into my voice. “I kind of like seeing you in your element.”

The grin that spread across his face was so wide and unguarded, it made my heart skip a beat. It was rare to see him light up like that, so purely excited, like a kid on Christmas morning. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” I replied, unable to keep from smiling at his reaction. “Let’s do it.”

For a moment, he just stared at me, as if trying to gauge whether I was really being serious. Then he let out a short laugh, running a hand through his hair again, this time in a gesture of disbelief. “Alright,” he said, the grin still tugging at his lips. “We’ll check for tickets. But don’t say I didn’t warn you about how loud and crazy it’s going to get.”

“I’ll survive,” I teased, reaching for my coffee again. “Besides, I think I can handle a few hours of chaos if it means spending time with you.”

His expression softened, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary before he glanced back at his phone. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, waving him off with mock indifference. “Now, hurry up and find us some seats before they’re gone.”

The rest of the morning was spent huddled around his laptop, scrolling through ticket options and arguing over which seats to choose. I let him take the lead, secretly loving the way his excitement bubbled over as he explained the layout of the stadium and debated the pros and cons of sitting closer to the field versus higher up. By the time we’d secured our tickets, I could tell he was already counting down the hours until the game.

And, if I was being honest, I was too.

The day of the game arrived, and Hank was practically buzzing with energy from the moment he woke up. By the time I’d shuffled into the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes, he was already making coffee and pacing around in his Giants jersey and cap, the brim slightly worn from years of wear.

“You know,” he started as I poured myself a mug, “the Giants have the edge with Logan Webb starting, but the Mets have a solid lineup. It’s going to come down to how sharp our bullpen is.” He was practically vibrating as he spoke, his voice rising with excitement. “If Crawford’s in good form tonight, it could—”

“Okay, okay,” I interrupted, laughing as I held up a hand to stop him. “I’m awake, but I’m not sure I’m ready for a full game breakdown before breakfast.”

Hank paused mid-pace, his face breaking into a sheepish grin. “Sorry. I just… it’s a big game, you know?”

“I can tell,” I teased, taking a sip of my coffee and watching him over the rim of the mug. His excitement was contagious, and as much as I teased him, I loved seeing him like this—completely in his element, unapologetically passionate.

What he didn’t know, though, was that I’d been keeping a little secret. As soon as we’d decided to go, I’d ordered my own Giants jersey and a matching cap online, timing the delivery so it arrived while he was at work. I’d even gone the extra mile and picked a player’s name that I remembered Hank mentioning during one of his many baseball lessons—Crawford, of course. The shirt and cap were neatly folded in my bag, waiting for the right moment.

By late afternoon, we were finally getting ready to leave. Hank had switched from pacing to glancing at his watch every few minutes, his impatience growing with each passing second. “Come on,” he said, hovering near the door. “If we don’t leave soon, we’re going to miss the warm-ups.”

“I’m almost ready,” I replied from the bedroom, suppressing a grin. My heart raced as I checked myself in the mirror one last time, adjusting the cap on my head and smoothing down the jersey. It was a bold look—bright orange and black weren’t exactly subtle—but the thought of surprising Hank made the nerves worth it.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the bedroom, leaning casually against the doorframe as I called his name. “Hey, Hank?”

He turned at the sound of my voice, his brow furrowing slightly as his eyes swept over me. For a second, he looked confused, like his brain was struggling to catch up with what he was seeing. His gaze landed on the orange jersey, the cap tilted just slightly on my head, and his jaw dropped slightly.

Hank froze, his mouth parting slightly as his eyes widened in surprise. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just stared at me like he was trying to process what he was seeing. “You…” He finally found his voice, shaking his head with a breathless laugh. “You got a jersey?”

“Crawford,” I said, turning slightly to show him the name and number on the back. “I figured if I’m going to do this, I might as well do it right.”

He blinked, his expression softening as a slow, delighted smile spread across his face. “You look…” He trailed off, his gaze sweeping over me again, a mix of awe and affection in his eyes. “You look incredible.”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” I teased, adjusting the brim of the cap. “I clean up pretty well.”

“It’s not that,” he said, stepping closer and running a hand lightly down my arm, his touch warm and grounding. “It’s just… you didn’t have to do this. But you did. For me.”

I shrugged again, though my heart was doing somersaults at the way he was looking at me. “It’s just a shirt and a cap, Hank. Don’t make it a big thing.”

“It’s not just a shirt and a cap,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, more serious. “It’s…” He shook his head again, that boyish grin returning as he reached up to adjust the cap on my head. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t hide the blush creeping up my neck. “Alright, save the sweet talk for the stadium. Didn’t you say you didn’t want to miss the first pitch?”

Hank laughed, stepping back to grab his wallet and keys. “Alright, alright. Let’s go, Crawford.”

The nickname made me laugh, and I followed him out the door, feeling lighter than I had in days. If this was how much fun we were having before the game even started, I couldn’t wait to see what the rest of the night had in store.

The atmosphere at Citi Field was electric, a buzzing hum of energy that hit me the moment we stepped through the gates. The smell of hot dogs and popcorn filled the air, mixing with the faint tang of beer and the sweetness of cotton candy. Everywhere I looked, Mets fans were decked out in blue and orange, waving foam fingers and sporting oversized jerseys with their favourite players’ names on the back. But scattered among the sea of home-team pride were splashes of black and orange—Giants fans holding their own, waving flags, and shouting chants that echoed through the concourse.

Hank walked beside me, his hand resting lightly on my lower back as he navigated us through the crowd with practiced ease. He was in his element, his excitement bubbling over in small bursts as he pointed out details I’d have never noticed on my own. “This place is great,” he said, his voice tinged with awe even though it was clear he’d been here before. “It’s not Oracle Park, but it’s still got charm.”

“Oracle Park?” I asked, glancing up at him.

“Giants’ home stadium,” he said with a grin. “Right on the water. You’d love it. Fans bring kayaks to McCovey Cove just to catch balls that land in the bay. One day, I’ll take you there.”

The promise in his tone made my chest tighten, but I pushed the thought away, focusing instead on the energy of the moment. The closer we got to our seats, the louder the noise became—chants, cheers, and the occasional heckle blending into a chaotic symphony that seemed to shake the very ground beneath us. Vendors shouted above the din, hawking everything from peanuts to beer, and I caught sight of kids clutching oversized souvenir cups and foam baseballs. The excitement was contagious, crackling in the air like static electricity.

Our seats were incredible—close enough to the action that I could see the sweat glistening on the players’ foreheads, but far enough back that we didn’t have to worry about dodging any errant foul balls. Hank led the way down the aisle, glancing back every few seconds to make sure I was keeping up, his grin widening with each step.

“Here we go,” he said, gesturing to our row. “Perfect spot. You can see the whole field from here.”

Settling into my seat, I took a moment to take it all in. The perfectly manicured grass, the crisp white lines of the diamond, the players warming up near the dugouts—it all felt larger than life. The scoreboard loomed above us, flashing stats and player profiles in bold colours, while the speakers blasted music that barely cut through the roar of the crowd.

It was overwhelming in the best way, and I couldn’t help but glance at Hank as he took it all in, his expression a mixture of awe and boyish excitement.

He looked incredible in his Giants jersey and cap, his enthusiasm radiating off him like a force of nature. And from the way he kept sneaking glances at me—his smile impossibly wide—I could tell he hadn’t fully gotten over seeing me in my matching gear.

“You’re really pulling it off, you know,” he said, leaning closer so I could hear him over the noise. His eyes scanned over me, his grin nothing short of delighted. “Like, really pulling it off.”

“Good thing,” I teased. “I’d hate to be out here embarrassing you.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he adjusted the cap on his head. “Embarrassing me? Nah. You’re making me look good.” He bumped my shoulder lightly with his, his grin softening into something warmer. “Thanks again for doing this. It means a lot.”

“You’ve already said that,” I pointed out with a laugh, nudging him back. “And you’re welcome. But if you keep getting mushy, I might have to start rooting for the Mets just to throw you off.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said, mock horror flashing across his face.

“Try me,” I teased, raising an eyebrow. But as I looked around the stadium, taking in the energy and the excitement, I couldn’t help but add, “Honestly, though, this is amazing. I can see why you love it.”

The corners of his mouth twitched into another smile, but this one was softer, more introspective. He reached for my hand, his fingers tangling with mine as he gave it a light squeeze. “I love it even more with you here.”

Before I could respond, a loud cheer erupted from the crowd as the players took the field. Hank’s attention immediately shifted, his grip on my hand tightening slightly as he started pointing out players. “See number 35 over there?” he said, nodding toward a pitcher stretching near the dugout. “That’s Logan Webb. He’s been lights out this season. If he’s locked in tonight, we’ve got a real shot.”

I followed his gaze, spotting the pitcher he’d been talking about earlier. The precision in his movements was impressive, even to someone like me who didn’t fully understand the intricacies of the sport. Hank’s enthusiasm was infectious, and I found myself getting caught up in the moment, clapping along with the other Giants fans as they cheered their team onto the field.

Hank leaned in close again, his voice low in my ear as he started pointing out more players and strategies, his excitement bubbling over in a way that made my chest ache in the best way. He was so alive, so completely in his element, and I couldn’t stop the smile spreading across my face as I listened to him.

It didn’t matter that most of the details went over my head—I wasn’t here for the stats. I was here for him, for the way his face lit up as he spoke, his words spilling out in a rush of enthusiasm that made my heart swell. Seeing him like this, so happy and so alive, was more than worth the price of admission.

“Alright,” he said after a moment, straightening up and adjusting his cap. “Let’s do this. Ready to watch the Giants crush it?”

I nodded, my grin matching his. “Let’s do it.” The game hadn’t even started yet, and I already knew this was going to be one of my favourite memories.

The game started with a bang, the first pitch slicing through the air to the roar of the crowd. Citi Field was alive with energy, every seat filled with fans on the edge of their seats. The Giants fans scattered throughout the sea of Mets blue and orange were loud and proud, matching the energy of the home crowd with chants and cheers. I could feel the vibration of it all in my chest—the sound, the excitement, the anticipation.

Hank was in his element. From the moment the game started, he’d been explaining plays and pointing out nuances I’d never have noticed on my own. “Watch this guy,” he said, nodding toward the batter stepping into the box. “Conforto. He’s got a mean swing, but if Webb keeps it low and away, he’s toast.”

Sure enough, the next pitch was a perfect sinker, and the batter swung so hard he almost spun himself around. Hank let out a whoop, clapping as I joined in, not entirely sure what had just happened but loving how excited he was.

By the third inning, I was fully invested. I’d been watching the game intently, picking up on more than I thought I would thanks to Hank’s running commentary. When the Giants turned a double play, the crack of the ball meeting the glove like thunder, I shot out of my seat, clapping wildly. “Yes!” I shouted, my voice blending with the other cheers around us.

Hank looked over at me, a mix of amusement and pride lighting up his face. “Look at you,” he said, his arm slinging comfortably around the back of my seat. “You’re into it. I think you might actually be more invested than I am.”

“Don’t get cocky,” I teased, shooting him a smirk. “I’m just trying to balance out all the Mets fans around us.”

He laughed, his hand briefly squeezing my shoulder before leaning in to press a kiss to my temple. “You’re the best.”

I felt a flicker of warmth at his words, but before I could respond, the crowd erupted in boos. The umpire had called a strike that, according to Hank, wasn’t anywhere near the plate. “What?” I shouted, standing up in protest along with the other Giants fans in our section. “Are you blind?”

Hank’s laughter was loud and sudden, his hand wrapping lightly around my wrist to pull me back into my seat. “Alright, calm down there, coach,” he teased, his grin wide. “You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

“Hey, I’m just sticking up for your boys,” I shot back, crossing my arms but unable to hide my grin.

His gaze softened, his fingers brushing against mine as they rested on the armrest between us. “I think I love you a little more right now.”

The comment was casual, playful, but there was something sincere in the way he said it, his eyes lingering on mine for just a beat longer than necessary. My chest tightened at the warmth in his voice, and I squeezed his hand lightly in return. “Good,” I said, my tone equally light. “Because I’m not done yet.”

As the next batter stepped up, the chants and cheers ramped up again, and I leaned in close to Hank. “Alright, what’s the strategy here?”

He grinned, his eyes flicking between me and the field. “Stay tuned. I’ll make a fan out of you yet.”

I rolled my eyes, but as the next pitch sailed across the plate and the batter connected with a solid crack, I knew he already had.

Between innings, Hank stretched in his seat and turned to me, his grin full of mischief. “Alright, rookie,” he said, nudging my knee with his. “Time for the next part of the baseball experience: snacks. What’s your poison? Hot dog? Nachos? Or are you one of those people who just wants a pretzel?”

“I’m offended you think I wouldn’t go for a hot dog,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “But nachos sound pretty great too.”

“Why not both?” Hank suggested, already rising to his feet.

I smirked, shaking my head. “Big spender. Fine, let’s do it. But don’t forget the beers.”

“Like I’d ever forget the beers,” he called over his shoulder as he headed toward the concession stand.

When he returned a few minutes later, balancing two fully loaded hot dogs, a tray of nachos, and two frosty beers, I couldn’t help but laugh. “You realise we’re only here for a few hours, right? Not a whole weekend?”

“Trust me,” he said, settling back into his seat and handing me one of the beers. “We’ll need the fuel. Baseball games aren’t sprints; they’re marathons.”

I took a sip of the beer, the cold, slightly bitter taste refreshing against the salty, cheesy goodness of the nachos I dug into next. As the game resumed, we alternated between shouting at the field and making jokes about who would drop something first. Unsurprisingly, Hank managed to get mustard on his jersey.

“Careful, Thompson,” I teased, handing him a napkin. “You’re supposed to eat the snacks, not wear them.”

He shot me a mock glare but took the napkin, muttering something about “rookies” under his breath. Still, the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement.

With the snacks loaded and drinks in hand, we settled back into the rhythm of the game, letting the crowd’s energy and the crisp bite of the beer carry us through the next inning.

In the fifth inning, as the energy in the stadium buzzed like electricity, the familiar jingle of the kiss cam echoed across the field. I glanced up at the giant screen, watching with amusement as the camera zoomed in on couples scattered throughout the stands. Some were shy, barely brushing their lips together, while others went over the top, dipping their partners back dramatically to the roaring approval of the crowd.

I chuckled, nudging Hank as one particularly enthusiastic couple earned a wave of applause. “Think they rehearsed that?” I joked.

He smirked, his attention half on the screen and half on the next batter warming up. “If they didn’t, they’ve got natural talent.”

I didn’t think much of it when the camera moved again, zooming in on another section of the crowd—until I realised it had stopped right on us. Our faces filled the screen, framed by a giant pink heart, and the crowd around us erupted into cheers and whistles.

“Oh my God,” I muttered, my eyes widening as the realisation hit.

Hank froze for a moment, glancing up at the screen and then back at me. His lips twitched into a grin, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief. “Well, looks like we’re up,” he said, leaning closer. “Can’t disappoint an entire stadium, can we?”

I laughed, my cheeks already warm from the attention. “Just don’t make it weird, okay?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, his tone mock-serious, though the playful glint in his eye told me otherwise.

Before I could respond, his hand came up to cup my face, his palm warm against my cheek. His thumb brushed lightly along my jawline, the gesture surprisingly tender for a moment so public. Then, with deliberate slowness, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

The kiss was soft at first, almost teasing, but it deepened just enough to make my stomach flip. It wasn’t over-the-top or exaggerated—just sweet and genuine, with a touch of heat that left my cheeks burning for an entirely different reason. The crowd around us cheered louder, a few people hooting and whistling as Hank pulled back, his grin entirely unrepentant.

“You’re ridiculous,” I said, trying to sound stern, but the laugh bubbling in my throat ruined the effect.

“And you love it,” he replied, his tone smug as he settled back into his seat, one arm casually draped over the back of mine.

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t hide my smile. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he said, chuckling as he turned his attention back to the field. But his hand found mine, lacing our fingers together as the next pitch was thrown, and I couldn’t help but squeeze his hand lightly in return, the warmth of his touch grounding me amidst the chaos of the game.

By the time the sixth inning rolled around, the pace of the game had slowed slightly, giving the crowd a chance to catch their breath. Hank glanced over at me, then down at the nearly empty beer cup in my hand.

“Need a refill?” he asked, nodding toward the vendors weaving through the crowd.

“Definitely,” I said, tilting my cup toward him for emphasis.

He flagged down one of the vendors, passing me another cold beer before grabbing one for himself. “Gotta keep the good vibes going,” he said, holding his cup up in a quick toast.

“To good vibes,” I agreed, clinking my cup lightly against his.

As the inning resumed, I noticed Hank stealing glances at me every so often, his smile soft and full of something I couldn’t quite place.

“What?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Just… I’ve been to a lot of games, but this one? It’s something else.”

I grinned, nudging him playfully. “You mean because of the nachos, right?”

“Obviously,” he teased, his grin widening. But the way his hand found mine a moment later, lacing our fingers together, made it clear what he really meant.

In the seventh inning, the atmosphere in the stadium had shifted. The Mets fans were louder now, buoyed by their team’s narrow lead, while the Giants fans were clinging to hope for a late rally. Hank had been animated through most of the game, cheering and analysing plays, but as the innings wore on, I noticed a subtle change. He grew quieter, his easy grin fading into a contemplative expression.

His knee started bouncing, a restless rhythm that seemed to echo his unease. His gaze was fixed on the field, but there was a distance to it, as though his thoughts were somewhere far beyond Citi Field. The tension in his posture was palpable, his shoulders stiff, his jaw set. I watched him for a moment, my chest tightening as I recognised the flicker of something deeper—something that went beyond the game itself.

“Hank?” I said softly, reaching over to place a hand on his knee. The movement stilled under my touch, and he glanced at me, his blue eyes clouded with a mix of emotions I couldn’t quite read. “You okay?”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering back to the field before returning to me. For a moment, I thought he might brush it off, but then he exhaled slowly, lifting his hat and running a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he said, though his voice was quieter than usual. “It’s just… watching them out there, it gets to me sometimes. Seeing them playing at this level, the energy, the stakes. It reminds me of… well, everything I thought I was going to do with my life.”

The rawness in his tone hit me like a punch to the gut. He rarely opened up about his past as a baseball player, the dreams that had been cut short by his injury, but in this moment, it was written all over him. The longing, the ache of what could have been, the quiet grief for a life that had taken a turn he hadn’t expected.

My heart ached for him, not just for the loss of his dream but for the way it still lingered in the shadows, waiting to catch him off guard. I wanted to say the perfect thing, to somehow take that pain away, but I knew it wasn’t about fixing it. It was about being here, showing him he didn’t have to face it alone.

I shifted closer, sliding my hand up to lace my fingers with his. His hand was warm and solid, but there was a slight tremor to his grip that made my heart ache. “You’re allowed to feel that,” I said gently, holding his gaze. “It’s okay to miss it, to wish things had been different. But don’t forget—you’ve done so much, Hank. You’ve built a life that’s yours. And that’s pretty incredible.”

He blinked, his expression softening as my words sank in. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, and the corners of his mouth lifted into a small, grateful smile. “You always know what to say,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of my hand. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Always,” I replied, squeezing his hand gently.

He leaned over, pressing a kiss to my temple, the gesture warm and grounding. I rested my head against his shoulder, my free hand coming up to trace idle patterns on his forearm. The roar of the crowd faded into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing and the soft thud of my heart.

We sat like that for a few moments, the game continuing around us, the energy in the stadium undiminished. But for us, the world seemed to slow, the connection between us taking precedence over everything else. It wasn’t about fixing anything or making the ache go away—it was about being there, side by side, facing it together.

Eventually, Hank straightened, his grip on my hand tightening slightly before he let it go. “Alright,” he said, his voice a little steadier now. “Let’s see if the Giants can pull this off.”

“They’ve got this,” I said with a confident nod, nudging him playfully. “And so do you.”

His grin returned, softer but no less genuine, and he reached up to adjust the brim of my cap. “You really are my good luck charm, you know that?”

“Damn right I am,” I said with a smirk, leaning back in my seat as the next batter stepped up to the plate. The game was far from over, and neither were we.

As the eighth inning stretched on, the tension in the stadium was almost unbearable. The Giants were still down by a run, and every pitch seemed to drag out longer than the last.

“I need something to do with my hands,” Hank muttered, his knee bouncing again as he leaned forward.

“Like what?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Peanuts,” he declared, already scanning the crowd for another vendor. “You can’t watch baseball without peanuts.”

I laughed, flagging down a nearby vendor and grabbing a bag for him. As I handed it over, I couldn’t resist teasing, “Anything else, your highness? Maybe a crown?”

“Very funny,” he said, cracking open the bag and tossing a peanut shell at me. “Keep it up, and I might not share.”

“Like I want your peanuts,” I shot back, though I couldn’t help stealing a handful when he wasn’t looking.

He caught me, of course, rolling his eyes fondly as he held the bag out for me to take more. “You’re lucky I like you,” he said, shaking his head with mock exasperation.

“Lucky me,” I replied with a grin, settling back into my seat. The tension of the game was still there, but the warmth between us made it easier to bear.

The ninth inning was pure chaos, a crescendo of tension that seemed to vibrate through every corner of the stadium. The Giants were down by one with two outs, and the bases were loaded. Every pitch carried the weight of the season, every swing a potential make-or-break moment. Around us, the Mets fans were on their feet, a wall of blue and orange chanting in unison for their closer to finish the job. The energy was electric, a mix of hope and dread that buzzed in the cool night air.

Hank was on edge, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his fingers laced tightly as though he were physically willing his team to pull through. I could feel the nervous energy radiating off him, and I found myself holding my breath alongside him.

The Giants’ batter stepped into the box, his stance steady, his eyes locked on the mound. The first pitch came in fast, and the batter swung hard. The crack of the bat meeting the ball echoed like a gunshot, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

The ball soared high into the night sky, a perfect arc carrying it deep into the outfield. The crowd collectively held their breath, heads tilting back as they followed its trajectory. It kept going and going, clearing the fence by a mile.

A grand slam.

For a split second, there was silence—disbelief hanging in the air like a fragile thread. Then the stadium exploded into chaos. Mets fans groaned in disappointment, their chants dissolving into a cacophony of frustration, while the pockets of Giants fans erupted in pure, unbridled joy. Black and orange flags waved frantically, and the cheers were deafening.

Hank shot to his feet, his arms flying up in a triumphant victory pose as he shouted, “Yes! That’s what I’m talking about!” His voice was raw, brimming with exhilaration, his entire body alive with the energy of the moment.

I jumped up beside him, clapping wildly and laughing at his sheer enthusiasm. Before I could say a word, he turned to me, his face alight with joy, his blue eyes sparkling like I’d never seen before. Without a second’s hesitation, he pulled me into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around me as he lifted me clean off the ground.

“You did it!” I shouted, laughing as he spun me around, his grip strong and steady despite his excitement.

“We did it,” he corrected, his voice ringing with triumph as he set me down. His hands stayed firm on my waist, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. The pure elation in his expression made my heart swell.

Before I could respond, he leaned in, kissing me with all the exhilaration of the moment. It was unrestrained and full of life, a kiss that carried the weight of celebration and connection, of everything we’d shared that night. The noise of the stadium melted away for a moment, leaving just us, tangled in the thrill of victory.

When he pulled back, his grin was wide and infectious. “This is the best game ever,” he said, his voice full of wonder.

“It really is,” I agreed, laughing as I brushed a strand of hair out of my face. “I think I’m officially a Giants fan now.”

Hank’s grin turned playful as he tugged me close again. “You already were. Tonight just made it official.”

The energy around us was still buzzing, fans shouting and clapping as the Giants rounded the bases, the scoreboard lighting up with their triumph. But in that moment, all I could focus on was Hank—the joy radiating from him, the warmth of his hands on my waist, and the way his eyes held mine like I was the only thing that mattered.

As we left the stadium hand-in-hand, the hum of the city mingling with the fading cheers from the stands, Hank couldn’t stop smiling. His grin was impossibly wide, the kind of joy that seemed to light him up from the inside out. “That was perfect,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’ll never forget it. Seriously, best game of my life.”

The way he looked at me in that moment, his face glowing with a kind of happiness that seemed almost childlike, made me want to freeze time. There was something so pure about his joy, so unfiltered, that it felt like a privilege just to witness it. And the way he kept sneaking glances at me, like I was somehow a part of it all, made my chest tighten in the best way.

“Me neither,” I replied, leaning into him as we walked down the bustling street. The air was cool against my flushed skin, but his warmth at my side was more than enough to keep the chill at bay. “But I think my favourite part wasn’t even the game.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh yeah? What was it then?”

“Watching you,” I said simply, the words falling easily from my lips. “Seeing how much this means to you… the way you lit up with every play, every moment. It made it even better for me.”

Hank stopped walking, pulling me gently to a halt on the edge of the crowded sidewalk. The buzz of the city swirled around us—taxi horns blaring, vendors shouting, and fans streaming by in their respective team colours—but in that moment, none of it mattered. He turned to face me fully, his expression so soft and open it made my chest tighten.

“You’re something else, you know that?” he said, his voice low, full of quiet wonder.

I smiled, trying to tame a strand of blonde hair that had escaped his cap. “Guess you bring out the best in me.”

His hand came up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over my skin. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he reached up and took off his Giants cap, turning it backwards before placing it back on his head. The playful tilt of the brim framed his face perfectly, and I felt my heart skip a beat at how effortlessly handsome he looked.

“Better?” he asked, his lips curled into that familiar, lopsided smile, the one that always managed to make my heart skip.

“Much better,” I murmured, my voice catching slightly.

Hank leaned in then, his other hand sliding to rest on the small of my back as he kissed me. His kiss was slow, deliberate, like he was laying everything bare without saying a word. It wasn’t just the kiss of a man celebrating a win; it was something deeper, something that made my heart ache and soar at the same time.

The world around us seemed to fade, the noise of the city blurring into the background as his lips moved against mine. His touch was steady, grounding, his fingers splayed gently against my back as though he were anchoring me to him. My hands slid up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my palms.

When he finally pulled back, his lips lingered near mine, his eyes searching my face as though he couldn’t get enough of the moment. His thumb brushed along my jaw, and his hand settled lightly at the small of my back, keeping me close. The city buzzed around us, but it felt like we were the only two people in the world.

“I mean it,” he murmured. “Best night of my life. And it’s not just because of the game.”

My chest tightened, a wave of affection swelling in me so strongly it almost overwhelmed me. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know,” I teased softly, though my voice betrayed the emotion behind the words.

He chuckled, his fingers gently tucking a loose strand of my hair back into place, his touch lingering for just a moment. “I try,” he said lightly, but there was a seriousness beneath his tone that made my stomach flip.

We stood there for a moment longer, caught in the glow of the streetlights and the lingering energy of the night. Then he slid his hand into mine again, his fingers lacing with mine as he gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

“Come on,” he said, his grin returning as he started walking again. “We’ve got to celebrate this win properly. I think I know a place that serves the best post-game beer in the city.”

“Lead the way,” I said, falling into step beside him, my heart still racing from the kiss. As we disappeared into the New York night, my heart felt impossibly full. This wasn’t just about baseball, or even Hank’s team winning—it was about the way he made everything feel brighter, bigger, and somehow better. And I knew I’d never forget this night—because of him.

[guhamun]

CALCHARO SCOFFED, LIPS CURLING slightly into a hint of a smile as his gaze came to rest upon the other once more. ❝Quite rich.❞ What a mess they were, stumbling about like drunkards in the dark. None had any idea what either was feeling, nor how to properly translate that into something that made sense. Still, he did appreciate that Jiyan was attempting. They were doing far better than himself, but there were many reasons for that, most of which stemming from his atrocious social skills for one. ❝But it’s fine. I wasn’t aware that I made you feel the way you did, so this was what I needed to hear.❞ People were most honest when their emotions flared, and hearing Jiyan actively say things that were other than respectable or nice, was certainly different. He was always polite when he spoke; always mindful of what passed his lips when other people were involved, that catching him out of his element had certainly not been…remotely expected. ❝And,❞ he continued, ❝you needed to speak it, clearly, so it was a win-win all around.❞ Calcharo valued honesty, anyway. Nothing was lost during Jiyan’s vent.

     Even so, there was relief in seeing that smile again. Muscles he had not been aware were tense, slowly relaxed once more upon bearing witness to it. ❝I’ll be honest in turn.❞ He shifted a little, making himself a bit more comfortable before he continued. ❝Admittedly, I don’t understand half of this. I don’t understand your thought process, nor can I really understand my own. I'm attempting, though. My questions are just me trying to see how much of what you say matches with mine. It’s ridiculous to probably do things in that manner, and it seemed to make you feel like I was purposely prodding, but there was a reason behind it.❞ Did it help? A little. A bit. Jiyan’s words had a great affect on him, which was…strange, yet not…necessarily a bad thing. He simply wasn’t used to the storm that was this man, nor his brand of honest rhetoric. One would think the general would be more reserved.

     He was, and he wasn’t.

     What a bizarre contradiction. ❝I like being around you. You’re trustworthy and can get things done. Reliable. Steadfast.❞ There was a pause from him, Calcharo suddenly feeling awkward. Stating facts was one thing, going deeper than that was another. ❝But most of all, I like seeing facets of you that others don’t get to see. Your eyes seem brighter when you smile, for one. You also have a nice laugh. It’s pleasant to listen to. Even the parts you think of as ‘unseemly’ – those are just the human aspects of you that you hardly had a chance to do much with. There’s nothing wrong with it. Just means you’re being more yourself, is all. Sometimes you just have to let the frustration out instead of keeping it locked up.❞ He chuckled, soft, airy. ❝Anyway…you have to make it up to me for making me talk this much in one sitting. That’s not helping me take it easy, you know. Had my mind working overtime too without any kind of payment for all that effort.❞ He was only joking, his tone lighthearted rather than accusatory.

"..." Indeed, it wasn’t like him to make assumptions, and it wasn’t like him to get frustrated or metaphorically bare his fangs when mere questions were asked. He wasn't even mad when his detractors treated him with no respect and made up rumors soon after he was appointed general by Jué. So why did he react the way he did with Calcharo? Why was he so affected and overwhelmed when he had no good reason for such? And... he knew perfectly well that they would never try and hurt him on purpose, and yet he still wasn't able to control his emotions. And yet, Calcharo was apologizing to him when the one that should be apologizing should be him. "I apologize for lashing out. I have no excuse for pouring out my frustrations the way I did and treating you poorly when all you did was ask a question." He wanted to hide and look away, as he didn’t want the other to see this unsightly and irrational side of him, but he still forced himself to lift his head and meet the mercenary's gaze.

A small and apologetic smile tugged at the sides of his mouth. It soon widened a little more and became more genuine after hearing what the mercenary said next. "I'm aware it sounds rich coming from me after my little scene, but there's no need to be so dramatic now, Calcharo. If what you say was true, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place. Water and oil don’t mix, but you have long since left your mark in me." Like a tacet mark on the skin, one's life is never the same after it appears. It becomes part of one, until their frequencies degrade and become part of Solaris-3. "Your company, your words, your very existence makes me happy in a way I may not be able to describe, but I feel and know it nonetheless. I want you in my life, even when you unintentionally make me upset. That's something that will never change. I can promise that much." No matter the circumstances, he would always reach out to them. Wasn't that what he did when...

Jiyan blinked. "I remembered that this was supposed to be an outing to get you to take things easy, yet here I am making you work your brain overtime." And now he felt mortified, covering the lower half of his face with a hand as he momentarily looked away, and then took a deep breath. "I feel deeply ashamed for my poor bedside manners. I swear I have never..." But he couldn't even bring himself to finish that sentence. So, instead, he slowly leaned closer towards the other once more and rested his forehead on their shoulder. Jiyan knew that it made no sense. Not even a few minutes ago he was agitated and frustrated, and yet... This impossible man, who was the reason for his agitation and frustration, only needed to exist in the same space as him to make him feel at ease.

[deliciouskeys]

[fellhellion]

🚬….

[lilgynt]

me in bed feeling so hopeless it just feels like nothing so honestly i’m chilling

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 15

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: Okay. Back again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You sit up as the faucet runs, the bathroom door slightly open. You look around, searching for your own shoes, not these annoying heels. As you get up, Bucky emerges, swiping his hands over his dark hair. You gulp and stop short. You gape at his shirtless torso. 

“You going somewhere, doll?” He asks. 

“Um, yeah, home,” you tear your eyes off of him. 

“Home? It’s late.” 

“I know but... my mom...” 

“I bet she’s asleep. She won’t know the difference, doll. I can’t let you go off into the night like that,” he insists as he comes closer. 

“But I...” you scour the room for your purse. You really don’t know how you’ll explain it all to your mom. You can’t go home in this dress and makeup. “I have to--” 

“Who say? You’re an adult, aren’t ya? You can stay.” He comes close and puts his hands on your shoulders, “you’re not gonna leave me all alone, are you?” 

“Bucky, I...” you chew your lip. “I had fun...” 

“But you can’t stay and snuggle. I get it. You’re a special girl, maybe I just don’t deserve ya,” he frowns. “And I’m not gonna make you stay but I can’t let you go off alone. So let me get dressed and I’ll drive you home.” 

You look at him. Your chest tweaks. He did all this for you. He’s already half undressed for the day and you can see the fatigue around his eyes. To be honest, you’re exhausted yourself. 

“No, I can’t-- I’ll stay,” you try to smile but you’re too nervous to do more than show your teeth. 

“You don’t gotta feel sorry for me,” he scoffs. 

“Sorry for you?” You pout, “no. How could I—what would I feel sorry for?” 

His throat bobs and he looks away, “you really are a sweet girl.” 

“Bucky,” you step closer, then stop yourself. You notice the muscles in his chest. He’s so strong and big. It’s distracting. “I’m just me. I... you—you own this whole place, why would I feel bad for you? It’s not... that. I’m just...” your lashes flick and your eyes drift down to his muscled stomach. You tear them away in shame, “nervous.” 

“Nervous,” he looks at you, almost bashfully as he keeps his chin tilted down. “About what?” 

“Well, er... everything. You. I... I’m just... it’s all so new, that’s all.” You twist your hand around your finger. “I didn’t mean to... hurt you.” 

He stares at you and takes a deep breath. He stands up straight and comes closer. “Aw, doll, no. Don’t give me that face. It makes me want you even more. To show you that you don’t need to be nervous. I wanna take care of ya. That’s the deal, isn’t it? I’m gonna give you everything you could ever dream of and all I’m asking is for you to keep being sweet to me.” 

He brings a hand up to cup your chin and you shiver. His thumb rubs along the line of your jaw as you peer up at him, “come on.” 

He gently urges you toward the bed. You put your hand on his wrist and stop him. You run your touch down his forearm. 

“I can’t sleep in this,” you look down at the dress. “Too tight.” 

“Ah, you want one of mine, doll?” He chuckles and reluctantly pulls his hand away. 

He turns and strides to the closet. To your surprise, there are clothes inside. Some of them you recognise from the racks of dresses you browsed earlier. He reaches inside and takes out a black button up. He comes back to you as he slips it off the hanger. 

He hands it over and you thank him. You feel the fabric, it’s soft. It’ll be nicer than the pinch of the seams. 

“Can I unzip ya?” He rasps. You sense the tension in his voice, as if he can barely get it out. 

“Oh, sure.” 

You turn your back to him, as much to hide your own burning blush as to hide from the heat roiling from him. You wince as his thumb brushes your skin and he slowly pulls down the tab of the zipper. You quiver out your breath and clutch the bodice of the dress as it slackens. You look at him from the corner of your eye. 

His fingertips trail up your spine and he steps closer. You brace yourself. He sniffs and pulls his hand away. 

“I’ll close my eyes,” he puts his hand over his face and turns on his heel. 

You don’t move right away. His presence is like a noose. You step away from him and put the shirt on the bed. You shimmy out of the dress and swipe it quickly off the floor. You put the shirt on and button it up. You unhook your bra and slide it off one arm at a time before pulling it through it free from beneath the fabric. 

You gather up the shirt and bra and clear your throat, “you can look now.” 

He accepts your invitation eagerly. He looks at you. Nowhere else but you. As you carry the clothing to rest on the dresser, he hums. Your legs tingle as they’re exposed to the room and him. They were before but now you feel even barer. 

As he approaches, you wrench back and face him. He stops to step out of his pants and you watch him in disbelief. He has only his dark briefs left. The twitch under the fabric gives you a start. You squeak and hurry for the bed. That’s not because of you... no, but... 

He follows. You climb up just ahead of him and his weight dips beside you. You push your legs under the covers as he reaches back to flip the light switch beside the headboard. The lamp goes out and he groans as he jostles closer. 

You lay down and just as quickly you’re locked in his embrace. His warm breath fans over your cheek as he nestles in close and brushes his nose along your cheek. His hand traces up and down your side and he clutches your hip. He pulls you flush to him. You can fill him—it—moving against your thigh. 

“Doll, ain’t this nice? Just us, just snuggling,” he purrs and tucks his hand under you, hooking a leg around yours. “I wish it could last forever.” You hum, unsure what to say. He kisses your cheek and hushes your silence, “sweet dreams. Don’t think I could sleep any better than next to you.” 

🃏

Sleep shrouds you in a shallow void. You can sense everything around you. Your mind won’t let go of your strange surroundings or the man next to you. Before you open your eyes, you try to convince yourself it was all a dream. 

You open your eyes to find the truth vivid before you. Bucky entwines himself in your as he snores into your hair. His arm is hooked around you and you’re not sure you’re okay about his hand being where it is. As you squirm, he kneads your ass. 

You reach back to stop him and he growls. The sound makes your chest twinge and you arch your back as his fingers curl deeper into your soft flesh. You cling to him as he holds you close. 

“Mmm,” he drones groggily, “you’re so warm, baby.” 

He rocks his pelvis and you feel just what you did the night before. He’s hard. The realization freezes you. You gulp and put your other hand over his thigh, squeezing him through the blankets. 

“Bucky,” you squeak, “Bucky?” 

“So good,” he continues to tilt his hips in a lewd rhythm. 

You turn to look at him, pulling back to see him. You’re caught in his hold. His eyes are closed as he lays beside you. Is he asleep? 

He continues to roll into you. You don’t know what to do. You’re embarrassed and helpless. He keeps on as you babble and blink up at the hotel ceiling. He grunts and jerks, shakes, then stops altogether. You shudder. 

“Bucky,” you say louder as you writhe in his arm. 

“Mm, ugh, huh,” he mutters as you tap his shoulder frantically. “Doll, what’s--” 

You look down as you feel something wet seep through the shirt. He releases you as he leans back and lifts the blanket. He peeks down and quickly sits up. Before you can say a word, he swings his legs over the edge and stands. He storms into the bathroom and the door snaps behind him. 

You gape after him. When at last you can move, you drag the blanket away from the mattress. You look at the wet spot on your shirt and push yourself up. You’re not sure but you are sure. It can’t be anything else. You’ve heard of it happening to men in their sleep but you always thought it only happened to teens. 

The door opens and you pop your head up. Bucky comes out with a towel around his waist and his hand on his forehead, “doll. I’m so sorry. I was dreaming and...of you, of course, but I got carried away. I didn’t mean to—I didn’t realise...” he swallows and closes his eyes. He tilts his head and drops his arm, “I’m so embarrassed.” 

“Uh, oh, I... I... well, I guess it happens, right?” You can’t look at him.  

“Well, not really. I gotta be honest, I mean, after this, there’s no point lying but... this doesn’t happen to me. Not often. Not since... well, it was a while ago,” he explains. “I guess you just do that to me.” 

“Erm, oh, I... I’m sorry?” You say. 

“Sorry, doll,” he chuckles and nears the bed. “Baby,” his voice grits in his throat, “do you know the last time a woman made me feel anything? At all? You got me feeling all sort of ways,” he exhales with a quake and reaches for you. 

You look at him as he latches onto your arm. He pulls you to the edge of the bed, “come here.” 

“Bucky--” 

He forces you to your feet and wraps you up in a hug, “I mean it, doll, I’m crazy for ya. And I’m tryna be patient but... you can see, I’m struggling. Huh? Can I have a little? Please.” 

You bat your lashes and dare to look up at him. His blue eyes are blazing and his cheeks are slightly tinged pink. Your stomach is flip flopping. 

“I...” you push your lips together and swallow, “what... what exactly... um, what did you want?” 

He trembles as he brings his hand up your arm and over your shoulder. He cradles your head and lets out another purr, “can I taste it? Please?” 

“Taste?” You echo thinly. 

“Baby, you don’t gotta do nothing. Just lay back, right? It’s like kissing. Mhmm. I’ll just be doing it...” his eyes drift lower and his nose furrows as if he’s snarling, “down there.” 

“I... I never...” 

“Promise, I’ll be nice. I just wanna try it. Alright? You say stop, I’ll stop, but baby,” his nails graze your scalp, “I’m getting hard again. It hurts.” 

You stare up at him, speechless. What do you say? What can you say? You’re in this hotel with him. The reason you’re there and could just as easily be the reason you’re not. And he’s you’re only way home. 

All of this, the room, the casino, last night, it’s all because of him. He gives and gives and you don’t see how you can keep taking. You squeeze your thighs together as they tingle. 

“Okay,” you whisper. 

“Okay?” He twitches. 

You nod as your eyes flit back and forth, “er, what... what do I do?” 

He exhales and puts his hands on your shoulders as he parts. He guides you back to the bed until your thighs meet the side, “you just sit, doll.” He shoves you down until you’re on the mattress, “I’ll do the rest.” 

You keep your eyes straight. Your body’s all locked up. You can’t move. He gets on his knees and moves toward you. He reaches under the shirt and grabs onto your panties. He tugs. 

“Help me out, baby,” he growls. 

You lift yourself slightly, just until he gets them past your bottom. You fall back down heavily. You’re buzzing in disbelief. He rolls your panties down your legs and off your ankles. He flings them away. 

He pulls your knees apart and you squeak as cool air grazes along your exposed cunt. He bends forward and kisses your thigh. You squeal. 

“Baby, I promise, I’ll be nice,” he speaks against your skin, his warm sweat smearing up your leg, “just be good. Be good for me, baby.” 

He shoves his head under the shirt and you exclaim as his tongue swipes up your cunt. You slap your hand against his head and thrash. He reaches back to hold your hand against his hair and buries his face into you. He hums and flicks his tongue. It sends a thrill through you. 

Your toes curl and your muscles strain. He keeps his tongue moving, and you push your head back as you lean your pelvis into him. Oh, wow.  

[kindaasrikal]

Inspired by that post from @/sand-jam because the way i screamed when i saw it

So what do you do when your previous abuser who took away your free will and forced you to commit horrendous actions through your own hands, and who used too look so powerful, so big and larger than life itself, is suddenly a child. When that man you once remember was always just some kid. Some kid who could’ve been different, who could’ve been a friend, family. How do you react when that child is still the one who hurt you, regardless of how much smaller he is now?

Okay actual rant here but i was gonna add some more to this but i got impatient but i WILL comeback and add those little things and post this again, or replace the images.

Sand jam’s post actually made me scream because YES i think if they acknowledge the fact that Morro is now younger than the ninja it would be a great point of development. Because one, this is still the guy who hurt you tremendously and pretty much mentally abused you first weeks on end. This is still the guy who had amazing strength, strategy, and control on both the battlefield and outside of it. This is still a man who was a threat, and is potentially an even worse one with more training over the years under his belt, even without the element. But, two, this is now also some kid who is the same/similar age as your students, one who ran away just like how he did, and someone who is no longer on the path of evil but simply wants to rest now. Someone who regrets and feels guilty but was never taught how to handle such emotions, let alone any at all. This kid in front of Lloyd and the man that is in Lloyd’s memories are still the same person, but one grew from what he once was. How do you deal with that. Why do you have to deal with that again?

Seriously the angst between them would be perfect because it would be so complicated.

PHHH NOOOO I FORGOT TO COLOUR TWH MOITH

Ill do that in the morning.

If im being perfectly honest this isn’t really morro’s new design in my style i rushed it, i’ll do a proper one soon.

To be honest i was struggling on the faces and their expressions, especially lloyds so if his face overall looks weird just ignore it.

[kakiastro]

Astrology Observations: Aries Edition

Aries Suns actually have no problems expressing themselves because the sun is exalted in this sign. Contrary to the belief, Aries Suns aren’t really that hot headed. They’re actually pretty chill because they’re in there natural element. They don’t mind going there with you and cuss you out if you pushed them enough. They may end up having children who are very active , hot tempered or very independent.

Aries Moons are the hot tempered ones lol. There anger is soo intense chile, yall remind me of taz from loony toons. The crazy part, yall tempers come quickly but it goes away just as quick. They may come from families that’s always in some type of conflict. They can be very Emotionally impulsive if they haven’t learned to deal with it in a healthy way. Some sort of physical activity like boxing can help, gotta let off that steam.

Aries risings- truly embodies the energy of Mars. I notice every Aries rising has a prominent head and it’s shaped like a helmet, no shade yall😅. Yall heads remind me of a warrior helmet. Aries rules the head too. Aries , especially in there youth was always the leader in a group. Usually the front man or the one who always steps up to call the shots! Lawd, don’t let a Capricorn be in the group lol, 2 leaders right there😅 maybe it’s just me but Aries rising are always hot no matter the temperature lol. Yall don’t like to wear that many clothes either, if you can walk naked , you would 😅

Aries Mercury folks got into lots of trouble as a youth due to having a smart mouth 😆. They may have struggled with superiority especially with male teachers growing up. Could be the oldest sibling or the sibling that takes control. Aries can be brutally honest but their tone can get them into trouble. They love sports or muscle cars and prefer to drive them.

Aries Venus fall in and out of love to easily. They love hard at first but get bored too quickly! They need to learn to slow down savior in the connection. They go all in too fast and their candlelight goes out. One they learn to slow down and take in the connection, they can have a long term relationship. These are some ride or die lovers, they guard you with their life. They don’t play when it comes to there lover.

Aries Mars thrives better when they are physically involved into whatever they’re interested in. They’re very much hands on type of people! If it involves creating something from scratch, they love it even more! They’re dominant lovers in the bed and not afraid to show you a thing or two. They’re just as intense in the bedroom as scorpios but there is more fiery.

Aries Jupiter people manifesting prayers can come quickly!! I also notice people with this placement loves traveling to very active, hot places.

Aries Saturn people master their identity as they get older. At some point you stop carrying about the societal pressures and you start living life. Also every decision you make affects you long term.

Aries NN are breaking away from the “I’ll be a good teammate” to “okay so as your leader, here’s the plan.” This is a lifelong lesson so you’ll get there.

Aries SN are born soldiers in this lifetime, they may have scars or a noticeable birthmark on them that stands out.

Asteroid Juno Aries people will have such a busy marriage life. Your partner and you will always be doing something together! Yall will be the hot couple too. You may end up married quickly in your relationship as well.

Asteroid Pallas Aries get there greatest ideas when they are moving around. Pallas is known as the “genius “ asteroid.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Why did they change Fellow’s and Gidel’s name for EN but not Rollo’s? So weird you’d think they’d at least be consistent and change all the names or none at all.

[Referencing this post!]

hchfxbjsbajCgwhq Deep breaths, everyone 😅 Deeeeeeep breaths…

I know a lot of us might be displeased with the name changes (moreso with Fellow’s than with Gidel’s) but let’s remember that, at the end of the day, they’re just names. They’re not erasing the original names, they’re not changing the context of the event story, and no one will force you to use the new names if you don’t want to. Your feelings are valid, but please be mindful about how you express them (because unfortunately I fear it can very easily veer into insulting or talking down to the localization/the localization team or fans who don’t mind/actually like the name changes 💦 It is partly for this reason that I did not include the other asks I received on this topic, as they could be needlessly inflammatory).

That being said, here are my thoughts on the matter: initially, I didn’t like the names. My automatic thought was that they sound like a corny 4Kids dub where they changed the Obviously Japanese Name (ex: Ichigo) to something Very Western (ex: Zoey). However, I’ll also be the first to admit that I also initially found the Japanese names odd because who names their kid FELLOW?? It’s like naming someone Person. I’m used to it now, but it definitely took me weeks and weeks to consider “Fellow Honest” a full name.

I’ve seen some people say that Fellow and Gidel’s names are meant to be silly sounding (and so the localized names are actually fitting), but I don’t agree with that sentiment. To my knowledge, no one in-universe ever laughs at their names or says they’re out of place. If the names were intended to be perceived as silly, there would be remarks indicating this. For example, “Tsunotaro”/“Hornton” IS silly because characters make explicit mention of how strange the nickname is. This is not true of Fellow and Gidel, so I don’t believe their names are supposed to be unserious.

I’ve also seen a lot of people poking fun at “Ernesto Foulworth” because “it sounds like such an obvious name for a scammer”. And yeah, maybe that’s true depending on who’s looking at it. I get where people are coming from. Buuut to play devil’s advocate, “Fellow Honest” invokes similar vibes. Both names have that element of honesty/earnest, but “Fellow” is more of a “John Doe” or generic name whereas “FOULworth” sounds bad since we associate the word foul with negativity. Essentially, both names are shady in their own ways but “Ernesto Foulworth” gets more flack because foul triggers an automatic negative association whereas fellow is more neutral.

So then I sat with the localized names for a little longer and the changes started to make a little more sense. To me, both sound very Italian, which fits given that Pinocchio has Italian origins. Additionally, “Ernesto” looks and sounds like “earnest”, which refers to being truthful. His surname, “Foulworth”, may be a reference to Honest John’s full name? Worthington Foulfellow. (I have no insights for Gino, unfortunately… other than making him “match” Fellow’s name better since they’re a pair?)

In all honesty (heh) though, I still don’t really like the new names even considering that context. I’ll probably keep calling them by their Japanese ones. I’ll never be a fan of any name changes because it means I have to go back and edit the tags on ALL my related posts, lol

Side note: shoutout to all the folks saying the names sound Ace Attorney-esque, how you think of Ernesto de la Cruz from Coco, and/or joking about how the EN names are Fellow and Gidel’s fake identities/aliases while they’re on the run from the cops 😭 I laughed too hard reading those comments cbwhebjzbwiwhwlek

Now, I’m not sure why the names were changed considering that names prior have largely been unchanged (Cheka, Marja, Najma, Rollo, etc.), save for maybe some spelling changes (Meleanor -> Maleanor, Baul -> Baur, Farena -> Falena, Leven -> Raverne, etc.). The only huge exception to this is Kifaji, who became Neji in EN. Here’s some theories and speculation going around in the fandom about Fellow and Gidel’s changes:

Copyright issues???? For example, you can’t really trademark “Fellow” and “Honest”, but you could maybe trademark “Ernesto Foulworth”. (This doesn’t explain Gino’s name or why they couldn’t trademark “Fellow Honest”.)

Another interpretation of copyright issues theory is that there’s weird legal stuff happening between Aniplex and Disney (international), which forced the name changes. (I think this one assumes a lot of tight regulations and hinges on how litigious big corpos and especially Disney are when it comes to “protecting” their brand and properties.)

Some have suggested that “Fellow Honest” is noun-adjective word order, which is uncommon in English. In “Ernesto Foulworth”, the first name looks and sounds like the adjective “earnest”, meaning the adjective(s) come first, which is more common in English. (This theory is a little incomplete though; there is no noun in the localized name to complete the thought. Additionally, Japanese also usually goes with the adjective-noun rule, so “Fellow Honest” would be an unusual name for JP too. And again, no explanation for Gino.)

… ITALIAn REP BABY 🇮🇹

[fetchen]

i’m back so let’s talk a little bit about something ive never seen anyone else mention: red’s nose piercing. :3

when i first noticed that red had her nose pierced, i assumed that it was just something that was already on kylie’s face. but as i got a little more into the making of rise of red, i realised that kylie actually doesn’t have her nose pierced. i’ll be honest, it kinda pissed me off because it told me that red’s nose piercing was a deliberate choice on the part of the character/costume designers and i hated that it was just…so boring. it just made me wonder why they didn’t do something way cooler with the jewelry. from that perspective, her gold hoop doesn’t really go with her colour palette and, frankly, it’s just kinda boring.

and then i thought about it from the context in which red as a character exists. her mom, the queen of hearts, is insanely controlling, to the point where red is unable to eat what she wants. because of this, she takes every chance she gets to show defiance. it makes sense to assume that each and every part of her design, in some way, reflects her rebellious nature- even down to her nose being pierced. in that case, i’m impressed with the fact that a design element so small can generate so many questions about the character and their environment.

like…when did red get her nose pierced? how did the queen of hearts react? who did it? did anybody else know? why the gold hoop? there are so many questions i have that will probably never be answered but are very, very fun to speculate about.

now, let’s talk about the gold hoop itself. my biggest complaint, from an aesthetic standpoint, is that the gold hoop just…doesn’t really fit red or her aesthetic. she wears exclusively black jewelry and the only other hint of gold in her design is her belt buckle. i think the biggest possibility is that the gold hoop is subtle. well, as subtle as a nose piercing could be. it blends in well enough that her mom doesn’t bother to make a fuss about it. if red had anything else, anything that stood out more than that gold hoop, she’d risk bearing the brunt of her mother’s punishment.

the act of red piercing her nose in and of itself was a physical manifestation of her disloyalty to her mother’s tyranny. intentional or not, in the queen’s future vision via the looking glass, red is notably missing that gold hoop she’s never seen without.

what that says about the looking glass, in my opinion, is that it’s not an objective tool. rather, it’s more of a gadget that shows the viewer the future they have in mind- but that’s not really the point i’m trying to make here.

my point is that red’s nose piercing is a physical representation of her rebellious nature and her closeness in ideology to her mother. she’s never seen onscreen without it unless it’s in the future scenario where she’s become a dictator alongside her. honestly, whether intentional or not, it’s a beautiful piece of character design- one that i bet you probably wouldn’t expect from a disney channel movie of all things.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - In Which None of You Should be Surprised by a MAJOR Upset in the Standings

Sorry this is so late. I had a pretty epic series of delays landing me at NRT for like 18 hours or something ridiculous. To be fair there are much worse airports to be stranded at.

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

June 2024 Week 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Rebound (Weds Gaga) ep 1 of 12 - Fuck all ya'all if you thought I had taste. MeenPing are topping this damn list because... have you any idea how LONG I have been waiting for a real sports centered BL starring at least one boy who actually played the flipping sport? My whole damn life. You ready for me to go into euphoric splooges all over your screens? I don't think you are. SUFFER! And now some splooging:

It’s off to a great start. Thank you, Rebound, for being exactly what I wanted. By which I mean Meen has his shirt off literally in the first two minutes of the show. Also it’s a bit of a childhood sweethearts reunion romance. There’s nothing wrong with this beginning. Fantastic. For a change, I even enjoy the intro music. Golf is directing MeenPing this time, so maybe something magical will happen. Frank is aging so pretty!!! How nice for all of us. Even the bb play is good. It’s a proper sports BL. I’m so damn happy right now. 

Wandee Goodday (Sat YT) ep 9 of 12 - I’m so tired of Ter, but everything else was lovely. Also they are SUCH boyfriends. 

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 3 of 12 - They are so cute in these roles. I don’t know why, I just like their vibe better here than in the previous show. (And I really enjoyed Big Dragon at the start.) This show is a lot more classic romance and kind of pat because of that. I do hope the ingénue character gets some kind of additional development and talent. But even if it stays mundane, these two have the chemistry to carry it. So I suspect I’ll keep enjoying it regardless. I am mildly intrigued by the spice of the PNR element, so I hope they run with that a bit more. I suspect they will have to, to extend the plot for 12 eps.

My Stand-In (Fri iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - Ah Ming... famous last words. This one just makes me sigh a lot and whimper sadly. I don’t know where they’re going with this plot or how they’re gonna resolve it. Joe finally being the asshole Ming deserves is a lot of fun though (double entendre intended). I’m scared but it did make me cry... a lot. (That's fine, I'm a sap.)  

Imma say this because no one else has. Wardrobe is unilaterally terrible in this show. I mean Thailand is notoriously bad in general but this show, nash.

We Are Cute (Weds iQIYI) ep 13 of 16 - They are so fucking adorable. And so flirty! Also a crying kiss? My favorite! Chain’s little moment of "Cupid shoot thyself" was epic. ("Physician heal thyself" but for the BL world?) Honestly, I could watch a whole show about these two...

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 1 of 12 - How does Gun still look like he’s just out of high school? Madness. Does the set for the print shop that he’s working in at the beginning remind anybody else of Mork’s dad’s place in ‘Cause He’s My Boy? I swear GMMTV has about 3 sets they rotate through.

To be brutally honest, I was not looking forward to the show at all. No idea why. OffGun aren’t my most favorite OG pair, but I respect them for their longevity, optics, acting shops, and enduring brand. Maybe I just needed more of a gap from Cooking Crush?

Whatever, I was absolutely riveted by this first episode. I’m enjoying The Trainee a lot. Like, a lot a lot.

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 4 of 12 - This version did the "clear up of the inciting miscommunication" in such a sweet achey way. Frankly that "ache of first love" really plays to G4's strengths as a pair. This was a good ep and I’m now starting to enjoy this one for its own sake and get some distance from the JBL version. It's just there is A LOT of good stuff coming out of Thailand right now.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - I was inspired to write a Shakespearean style sonnet in this week's trash watch. Mame seems to believe that no character can have depth without suffering. And I found this episode both boring and rushed at the same time. Trash watch here. (This week's trash watch also VERY delayed.)

Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) ep 6 of 12 - It’s eminently missable... so I missed it this week in order to get this weekly update out. Next week will be a two in one. 

Only Boo! (Sun YT) ep 12fin - Okay, that’s it, I guess?

Summary:

An idol romance about a sunshine boy who dances good and wants to be a star and a reserved food stand vendor. Other side of the tracks, grumpy/sunshine pair who fall in love but, of course, to be an idol baby boy can't date. It wasn’t particularly bad, it wasn’t particularly good either. 7/10

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) Ep 1 of 10 - A new series adaptation of beloved yaoi I Hear the Sunspot (first adaptation was feature film Silhouette of Your Voice 2017).

I expected the soundscapes in this one to be fantastic, but I didn’t expect the filming to be something special too. But it really is. I’m not gonna lie, I'm nervous about this show because I love the manga and was disappointed by the film, but we were off to a really good start. First names already? So cute. I love them.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - Shy awkward Taishin goes to a Tokyo university in order to reunite with Takara, a stranger who consoled him over the loss of a parrot the year prior. He finally gets a chance to express his gratitude but is given the cold shoulder. (My thoughts this weekend's round up)

I can't believe Japan is holding it down for the non Thai BL. I mean to say.... JAPAN!!! What alt reality are we living in? It being Japan, I'm scared of the ending.

It's airing but...

Blue Boys is still going on and I'm still enjoying it (despite the cheating) but I don't know when it drops or where it's going, so I will report in at the end. When they tell me it's ended.

The Last Time (Thai Fri YT?) - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Can't find it.

OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ???) 10 eps - I've put the search on hold for and y'all can let me know if it's worth tracking down once it ends?

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer released to Korean theaters 5/25. HoTae & DongHee, side couple from Unintentional Love Story are back! Same actors, same character names. I love them. Devastated this hasn't had international distribution. I demand you tell me the moment you find it!

Next Week Looks Like This:

NO IMG - we half way through this week already - sorry.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

July Releases to Come

7/5 This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Thai iQIYI) - trailer here, The PittBabe team behind a new restaurant set BL full of hidden agendas and starring my new favorites SailubPon. Delightful!

7/10 Century of Love (Thai Gaga) 10 eps - trailer here, DaouOffroad are back, this time as fated mates in a quasi historical paranormal moment. San has spent many lifetimes waiting for his lost beloved, to reincarnate from her death a century ago. But if he fails to find her within this century's time window, he will succumb to a tragic death. And this time she's a boy. Very much Director Who Buys Me Dinner meets First Love Again, hopefully better than both. I love this pair and think they can handle the premise, it's whether the storytelling is up to the challenge. I'm curious to see but I have reservations.

7/26 4 Minutes (Thai Netflix or iQIYI?) - Great is a university student from Faculty of Business and the son of a wealthy business owner. Out of the blue, he gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future.

7/29 Battle of the Writers (Thai ????) - trailer here, TutorYim return and while I adore them, I really hope this is better than Middleman's Love. Won't be hard. However: that premise! Ugh. Something something authors fighting - save me. Why don't writers understand that nothing is more boring than writers?

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Defining @heretherebedork 's favorite endearment of "tiny idiot."

I love him. I also love what a class act they both were about this turn down. Thailand shows Korea how to handle a love triangle by NOT HAVING ONE.

Both We Are.

We stand a lap sit on this blog, but I think this is my first lap spin! I adored it! (Sunset X Vibes)

It's fun to watch them follow the original narrative but with these cute little Thai twists. Sometimes these are shifted for language reasons, sometimes for cultural, and sometimes I think just to draw a clear distinction from the JBL. I'm not mad about any of it. (My Love Mix Up)

Not just for you, honey. Truer words were never spoken. Yak is the biggest green flag ever to walk BL's verdant earth.

Linguistic corner!

I love this way of putting the translation. Usually, in Thai, the phrase used means "he's my happiness" (sounds like: kwamsook). To use sabai is different. Sabai more ubiquitous (sabai is one of the most commonly used phrases in Thailand) but also so different from the usual phrase we hear in ThBL at this moment. Thus, this execution is special, particularly from a doctor. I'm not quite sure how to put it but sabai can also be translated as feeling well, as in, not ill. So there is a way of looking at Wandee saying Yak is both his peace of mind and good for his health and well being.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in it's infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

There's these tricks, remember.

[chez-cinnamon]

i wanna make a gamemaster design for my oc and i was wondering how u go abt make your designs for the gang!! i need to be accurate or i will perish!!! 🥺🙏

Oooh!! Im gonna be honest, most of the time I go by vibes, while also trying to keep the essence of the original design 😭

But if you want some tips, these are the best I can give:

- A more concrete circus role (Like Jax w a beast tamer role, Zooble w a strongperson role, etc)

- Generally they have a somewhat RPG/slight DND inspiration to them, each of them having different roles and classes depending on their strengths, either assigned from the blast or given naturally (ex. Ragatha is the healer of the group w a magician/sorcerer theme, Jax has cleric inspiration, etc)

- Each character has at least one strong stat and one low stat, with Pomni being an exception as a Jack of all trades w more even abilities (Gangle has a high dexterity stat and low strength stat, Zooble has high strength stat but low constitution stat, etc.)

-They have to have at least one butterfly shaped bow on their design (call it the design element that unifies the cast in a way) - it can be anything and anywhere!!

I’ll come back to this post when I have more design conventions for my AU, but for now these are the basics!! <3

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Nine: I'd Fall for You Twice if That's What You Wanted

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.2k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings. Sarah, Tommy, Emily, and JB unknowingly banding together for the win. Joel is his own warning. Inappropriate (or entirely appropriate?) use of a massager. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).

Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Chapter Eight | Main Masterlist

“Girl, you’ve got it baaad,” Emily teased, watching you eye your phone every five seconds. The pair of you were getting drinks at your favorite watering hole the Saturday before your first full week of officially teaching.

“I can’t help it, Em. He’s got this, like, hold over me or something,” you replied sheepishly, one hand tucking your phone away in your back pocket. You were starting to annoy yourself with how often you checked for texts from Joel.

“You’re in love, that’s what happens.” Emily shrugged and sipped at her fruity mixed drink. “How’d the holidays go?”

Your expression lit up as you told Emily about your first major holidays with the Millers. Having spent some holidays with them while you were still away at school, your dad already fit into their family dynamic seamlessly. You were a happy and much-loved addition to the festivities and there was plenty of laughter among the adults at how badly Tommy botched dinner for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. Why Joel and your dad ever let him try again after the wreck that was Thanksgiving dinner was beyond you. Thankfully, your dad saved the day both times with his unparalleled grilling skills.

“So, it’s safe to say that JB’s still happy about you and Joel being together?” Emily asked after your own laughter at recounting the mess died down.

“Is he ever,” you replied with a shake of your head. “He loves to rib Joel on making an honest woman out of me. Joel takes it in stride, but I’m kinda afraid that it’ll scare him off if my dad keeps it up.”

“Oh, please! That man is clearly head over fuckin’ heels for you. Hell, he’s already told you and JB that he loves you, he’s not goin’ anywhere!” After taking another sip of her drink, Emily shot you a pointed look. “When the hell am I gonna meet Joel, anyway? I feel like you’re actively hiding him from me.”

You stilled.

Were you doing that? You didn’t think so, not at first, but… If you were honest with yourself, there was an element of truth to Emily’s accusation.

“Shit, Em. I’m not doing it purposefully, I swear,” you replied beseechingly, pausing to figure out how to properly explain things. Finding a scratch in the tabletop suddenly fascinating, you stared at it while continuing. “I just have to share him so much already, between Sarah and my dad, even his brother – not that I begrudge him spending time with any of them, especially Sarah! It’s just… when I have time with him, I want to keep him to myself. You know what I mean?”

God, that made you sound so selfish. You looked up to find Emily grinning at you.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“I’ve never seen you so in love. It looks good on you.” Emily clinked her now empty glass against your half-full one. “Just promise me that I’ll get to meet him soon. We could do a double date or something, so it doesn’t take away too much of your precious alone time.”

Over another round of drinks, you made plans for a few Fridays from now, quietly hoping Joel wouldn’t mind.

Heading home, you longed to see Joel, but it was late, and he was spending time with Sarah. He went to great lengths to make sure his daughter did not feel left out or neglected while the two of you explored your relationship, setting aside time for just the two of them to hang out. You loved that about him and knew how important that quality time was for Sarah. Besides, you planned to head over there tomorrow to get a little quality time of your own ahead of the busy week ahead.

In the morning, you slept in and lazed around the house for a while, taking the opportunity to relax and ease into your day while your dad puttered around until mid-day. You hadn’t heard from Joel, but that didn’t bother you – he knew you planned to come over. Around one o’clock, you headed over to the Millers, picking up some pizza and beer on the way.  

Pulling up in front of the house, you found your usual spot in the driveway taken by your dad’s truck while Tommy’s truck blocked the remaining space. With a huff you parked along the curb. You would have ordered more pizza if you knew everyone would be here.

“Howdy boys,” you greeted as you walked in. “I come bearing pizza and beer, though I fear we’ll need lots more with this crew.”

Only one set of eyes turned away from the football game playing on TV as they all greet you in return. Getting up from his beloved corner spot on the couch, Joel took the pizza and beer from your hands and placed them on the coffee table before pulling you into the kitchen for a proper greeting.

“Hi darlin’, I’ve missed you,” Joel murmured, his voice already raspy from yelling at the TV. He pulled you close until your bodies were flush together and kissed you deeply. Like a magnet, your fingers threaded through his messy curls, tugging gently as he nibbled your bottom lip.

“Mmm, I missed you, too, handsome. Didn’t know you were having company.”

Joel flashed his big cow eyes at you, eyebrows pinched together regretfully. “’M sorry, baby. I didn’t know they were coming by to watch the game ‘til they got here. Apparently, my TV is the best, so here they are. Hope that’s ok. I’ll kick ‘em right the hell out if you want me to.”

The thought did cross your mind.

“Nah, enjoy the game with the boys. I’ll sit with you guys for a bit then hang with Sarah until they leave.” Still wrapped in each other’s arms, you nuzzled the tanned skin of Joel’s neck and he hummed.

“You gonna stay over?”

You shouldn’t, not on a school night – your first as a bona fide teacher – but you had so little time together. “Sure. Just don’t keep me up too late, Mister. Those kids are exhausting, and I need my energy for the first day.”

“Miller! Stop neckin’ with my daughter and get your ass out here!” your dad’s voice bellowed through the house, causing the two of you to spring apart.

“Jesus, Dad,” you sighed, pecking Joel on the lips one last time before following him out to the living room. When would the game be over?

Surprisingly, you enjoyed the time watching the game with everyone. Even Sarah came down to join you all at half-time, book in hand, and sat between you and Joel reading. It was a lovely afternoon and a lovelier night as Joel held you in his arms, whispering words of praise into your hair until you fell into a deep slumber.

Your first week of teaching passed in a blur. After a month of assisting the prior teacher before his official retirement, the students knew you and respected your authority, setting the stage for an overall lovely experience. You started off with earth science lessons and most of the kids were engaged and eager to learn. Of course, you had a few little challenges with difficult students testing their boundaries, but you felt good about the way you handled each situation.

You stayed later after the students were dismissed, using the time to organize the room to your liking and get the lesson plans in order. Sarah perched at one of the long wooden tables working on her homework while you completed your tasks. The pattern offered you and Sarah some quality time together and the young girl found great enjoyment in putting you on the spot, especially when her dad was the topic at hand.

“JB keeps telling dad he needs to marry you,” Sarah blurted randomly Friday afternoon. “Do you want to?”

Staring at her wide-eyed, unsure what to say, you merely shrugged. Why was everyone so focused on the two of you getting married? You only started dating a few months ago!

Tilting her head to the side with a little smirk, Sarah replied, “That’s not a ‘no’.”

She was getting to be as bad as your dad and Tommy.

“You could be my stepmom! I always wanted one since I didn’t get to have a regular mom.”

Despite Sarah’s cheerfulness at the idea, your heart ached for all the real mom-related experiences she didn’t get to have. You knew exactly how that felt. If marrying Joel wasn’t already something you hoped for in the future, it would be after hearing Sarah expressing her desire for a stepmom, for you as a stepmom.

Sarah kept talking, while you lost yourself in thought.

Would you be a good stepmom?

God, you hoped so.

You never had one, JB chose to never get too serious with anyone after your mom, but you heard enough horror stories from your friends about their own stepmoms through the years. It sounded like a thankless job. But all the people you knew with stepparents had both birth parents still in their lives, so maybe your experience would be different.

The late bell chimed, drawing you out of your ever-spiraling thoughts.

“Come on, nugget. Let’s get you home,” you said, pushing thoughts of marriage and step parenthood to the farthest recesses of your mind.

“If you’re not gonna marry my dad, could you at least move in with us? It would be so great if you lived with us!”

Jesus fucking Christ in a handbasket. This kid sure knew how to keep you on your toes.

Leaning over the bar top with hunched shoulders and an aching back, Joel picked at the label on the beer bottle. He didn’t often visit the bar after work, not since Sarah came into his life, but he finally had some extra money and felt like treating himself. You stopped letting him pay you months ago, when the two of you became more to each other than just babysitter and boss, and he stashed that money away each week, saving it for what he didn’t know.

At his side, Tommy carried on about some chick he met a few weeks ago. A pretty attorney who was way out of his league and already turned him down twice. Like a dog with a bone, Tommy showed no signs of giving up yet.

“You better be careful, brother. She may get a restraining order against you if you don’t take it easy,” Joel said, voice a rich rumble.

Tommy waved him off with a chortle. “Oh please. She’s loving it. Chicks like that like being pursued.”

“If you say so.” Joel didn’t know this woman or what she liked, but he knew for a fact that you would hate it if a guy relentlessly pursued you after turning him down, not once, but twice. He smiled at the thought of you kicking a guy like that in the fucking balls to prove that you were very much not interested.

He full on laughed at the thought of you kicking his little brother in the balls, causing Tommy to glance sideways at him.

“What’s so funny, huh?”

“Nothin’,” Joel grumbled, clearing his throat. Thoughts of you continued to invade his mind, just like they always did. You were always on his mind, and he loved it. If only you were always in his bed… Joel cleared his throat. “Hey, uh. How do you know if it’s too early to ask a girl to move in?”

Tommy groaned. “Why you always askin’ me this shit? How am I supposed to know? I have less actual relationship experience than you do.”

“Who else am I supposed to ask, huh? JB? Don’t imagine that’d go over too well,” Joel replied with a defeated shrug, but Tommy conceded the point.

“You need more friends, man.” Clearing his throat, Tommy gave it a moment’s thought. “Well, the way I see it, you love her, and she loves you, everyone knows it, and JB and Sarah are both happy for the two of you. Moving in together seems like the logical next step, right?”

Joel nodded, still uncertain.

“Only the two of you can know if the pace is right. Seems to me like you both waited long enough for the right one to come along. You’ve both been through some shit, why waste any more time?”

Damn, when did his little brother become so insightful?

“Alright, I get your point. Do you think she’ll say yes if I ask?” As secure as he was in your love for each other, Joel still floundered a bit at each new step in the relationship department.

“I dunno, brother. You’re just gonna have to grow a pair and find out.”

“Fuckin’ grow a pair,” Joel grumbled, punching Tommy in the arm, hard.

The pair bickered through another round, like brothers do, before calling it an evening. Eager to see you and Sarah, Joel didn’t want to waste away the evening in the bar with Tommy. As they walked out to their trucks, Tommy stopped Joel with a hand on his shoulder.

“Listen, brother. In all seriousness, I think she’ll say yes, so just ask, ok?”

Joel nodded his thanks and confirmed plans for watching the game at his place on Sunday, before climbing into his truck. The trip home didn’t take long, and for that Joel was grateful. His back ached after a busy week of hard labor followed by an hour sitting hunched over the bar. He’d kill for a massage.

The house was quiet when he walked in, no sign of you or Sarah on the ground floor. Kicking off his work boots and dropping the truck keys onto the hook near the door, Joel slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Light flooded into the hall from Sarah’s bedroom, the sound of giggles and low voices echoing in the air. He moved slowly, quietly, until he could just peek around the door jamb. You sat on Sarah’s bed, the little girl perched in front of you, as you braided her wiry curls.

The sight melted Joel’s insides into a gooey puddle.

This. This was exactly what he wanted to come home to everyday.

He had to ask you to move in.

Just as he straightened up with a silent groan, ready to enter the room, Sarah’s sweet little voice left him frozen in place.

“I think you’d make the best stepmom.”

“This again,” you griped playfully. “You do, huh? Why?”

Was this something Sarah brought up before? Joel held his breath, waiting for Sarah’s response.

“Because you love my dad and you love me, you’re always kind even when things go wrong, you’re smart, and you like spending time with me. But most of all, because you do the things a mom does even though you’re not my mom and you don’t have to.”

He caught your gasp even though you tried to hide it from Sarah. You were as affected by Sarah’s heartfelt, innocent confession as he was. His adorable, sweet little girl knew you’d make a great stepmom and he agreed with all her reasons. If possible, he fell further in love with you in that moment after seeing you through his daughter’s eyes.

“Well, you’re right, nugget. I do love you and your dad, and I hope that one day, when the time is right, I can be your stepmom. Until then, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing, ok? I’ll still love you to pieces even without the official title.”

You choked out the words, on the verge of tears, and Joel felt his own eyes begin to water. Unable to bear it any longer, he swept through the doorway and pulled you both against his chest in a big bear hug. His precious girls. He loved you both more than words could express.

“Daddy! You’re squeezing too tight! Imma burst!” Sarah shrieked with laughter as he tossed her onto the bed and began tickling her with one hand, his other still holding your close.

“Did you…” Your eyes searched his, a hint of worry hiding in their depths, and Joel grinned, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“I heard it all,” Joel confirmed, confidence bolstered knowing you wanted to marry him at some point. Conveying every feeling held in his heart through his eyes, he added, “Move in with us. Please.”

Your eyes flicked back and forth between his, searching for confirmation. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, darlin’.”

The three of you celebrated with ice cream after you agreed to move in with them before putting Sarah to bed. By then, Joel’s back ached something fierce and you offered to use the message gun he forgot he had.

“Lay face down on the bed, my love,” you directed, watching with adoration as he tugged the shirt over his head, jeans hanging low on his hips. The muscles rippled in his arms and back as he settled on the soft mattress. “Ready?”

“Yes,” Joel murmured, huffing when you climbed over him to straddle his ass.

Turning on the massage gun, you put it on the middle setting and pressed the ball against the flesh of his traps. Even through the device, you could feel how tight those muscles were. It must be where he held his tension. Over the next half hour, you worked the massager over his back, soaking in the grunts that bordered on pain and relief. Somewhere along the way, the groans turned pleasurable, and Joel rolled onto his back, leaving you to straddle his thighs as the bulge in his jeans grew.

Joel’s hands moved to undo the button on his jeans, but you batted his hand away with a mischievous grin. With wide, wondrous eyes, he watched you adjust the setting on the massager and run it along the seam of his pants.

“Oh fuck,” he hissed, cock twitching with interest at the vibration. “Don’t stop.”

Hands gripping your hips, he bucked up into the delightful buzz of the massager, a steady stream of moans falling from his lips as the vibrations spread from his balls upwards to the head of his cock. Fuck, if it felt that good through his jeans, how good would it feel directly on his cock?

“Do you want me to increase the speed setting?” you purred, pressing the massager harder against him.

“Oh God, fuck. Yes… ungh. Please.” The words fell from his lips in a series of whimpers as you adjusted the settings. Within moments, he moaned a bit too loudly and came in his pants. You didn’t let up on the pressure though, the vibration drawing out his orgasm until every last drop of his load was blown and his body nearly convulsed with the overstimulation.

Chest heaving, he watched you switch off the massager and run your fingers along the large wet spot on his jeans, his cock twitching tiredly in response.

“That was fucking sexy,” you murmured, enthralled with the mess you just made of him.

“Yeah? Lemme see that thing. Think it’s my turn now, pretty girl.”

Tbc

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[monsterboyblood]

Zero's armor! That's an original design isn't it?? The world deserves to see it (please?) 🛐

I’ll be totally honest a lot of this design I made up on the spot as I was drawing that pic but I am super glad people seem to like him so much

He’s got a couple added elements to make him look like my AU version of Bass, mostly on his face.