#at first i wanted to do it as a meme just like i did in the case of lounds and chilton but it turned out that it would be a really long pos | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pukefactory · 2 days ago

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could we maybe get ena with a reader thats just... really chill and openly affectionate/loving with her? both pre and during a relationship with her?? idk if you've seen this one meme that goes something like "me doing whatever my goth gf tells me to do" with this guy sat in the middle of what looks like a summoning circle or w/e but thats been me with ena lately ghjdsgmds-- like okie dokie whatever you say gorgeous <333

•☽────✧˖°˖ LOSE YOUR HEART ˖°˖✧────☾•

★ Summary: A Compilation Of Headcanons Featuring Salesperson ENA X A Very Calm And Affectionate Reader

★ Character(s): Salesperson ENA (ENA: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ You don’t flinch when ENA bites into a piece of “Toast of Knowledge” and starts foaming at the mouth. You just pat her on the back like, “Good girl, get that enlightenment,” while everyone else screams. She blinks at you, spittle on her chin, eyes wide and alight with glitching devotion. “Do I look possessed?” “Yeah,” you say, brushing the crumbs off her. “Stunning.” She nearly combusts.

☆ When ENA starts going off about market value and decision funnels, most people nod politely and phase out. You nod enthusiastically and keep her talking. You lean forward with an unshakeable gaze, propping your chin on your palm as if she’s serenading you. “Wait wait, go back—what was that about vertical segmentation?” She glitches mid-sentence. Reboots. Coughs out a heartsick “You’re listening?” Always. With her, you always listen.

☆ She once had a mini breakdown after getting stuck in a loop in the Lonely Door, ranting, crying, threatening to strangle the Genie with a tax invoice, and you, unfazed, just walked up and gently cupped her cheeks. “You’re doing amazing, sweetie.” She went completely silent. Her Meanie side twitched like it’d short-circuited. She walked into the wrong room five times after that.

☆ Before dating, you followed her around like a very calm duckling. Not in a creepy way—just always there. Helping her pin her cap back on when it blew off. Holding her suspenders out so she could slip into them easier. Letting her poke at your aura with her weird hand because “your vibes are off-specification.” “Yeah, I get that a lot,” you said, sipping tea. “You’re welcome to recalibrate me, though.” Her heart did a little lurch before Meanie screamed.

☆ You never question her cryptic, sometimes chaotic orders. “Stand very still while I throw this cheese at the moon.” “Of course, darling.” “Lick this coin. It might be cursed.” “No problem, my love.” “Put your foot in this puddle and don’t ask why.” You’re already halfway in, smiling at her like she’s the only god you’ve ever prayed to. She says she’s never felt more powerful. Or more in love.

☆ The first time you casually called her “gorgeous,” she stopped mid-sentence and stared at you like you’d just introduced a new word into her codebase. “Was that…meant for me?” “Mhm. Want me to say it again?” “…No. Wait. Yes. Wait—don’t. Actually—” You did. You called her beautiful, radiant, ineffable. She dropped her megaphone and forgot how to use her legs. You caught her with ease, murmuring, “There she goes, the love of my life.”

☆ When she had a full-on manic episode mid-quest, jumping on a table and yelling out a number of obscenities—you just clapped from the side. “That’s my girlfriend! Get ‘em, babe!” Your encouragement only made her louder. Louder and worse. And she said she’s never felt more supported.

☆ Post-relationship, ENA sometimes tries to pick fights just to see if you’ll react. “You FOOL! You DINGDONG! You SATIN-FLAVOURED SIMP!” You wrap her in a hug mid-rant and kiss the side of her glitched-out face. “I love you.” “…I was trying to instigate conflict.” “You’re adorable when you’re mad.” She shorted out like a toaster in a bathtub.

☆ When ENA’s darker forms emerge—green-cracked face, leaking blood, shaky limbs—everyone assumes you’d run. Instead, you just step in closer. You wipe her face with a soft cloth, steady her broken body against yours. “I’m not scared of you, baby,” you whisper. “You can fall apart all you want.” She claws at your shirt like a lifeline, stammering with both voices, “Please don’t go—I’m not charming right now—!” You kiss her cracked forehead. “You don’t have to be.”

☆ She once stared at you for ten full minutes while you folded laundry. No chaos, no meltdown, just this wide-eyed reverence. Finally, in a very small voice: “…How do you stay so calm?” You shrugged. “I’ve got you. Why wouldn’t I be?” She went quiet. The next day, she came back with a hundred stolen coupons, a box of frogs, and a locket with your picture in it. “THIS IS LOVE,” she declared. And you nodded. “Okie dokie, whatever you say, gorgeous.”

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kxsagi · 3 days ago

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we love blue lock men with biceps BUT what if their girlfriend ALSO had biceps. yukimiya and karasu would ABSOLUTELY LOVE them omg. and whoever else you want as well. happy request opening day 😚

“𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲”

a/n: THIS REQUEST ATE

GIRLS WITH MUSCLES YES GAWDDD

LIKE I AM SO DOWN BAD (this is what i go to the gym for, to have big biceps and make men cry)

ft. yukimiya kenyu, karasu tabito, mikage reo, isagi yoichi, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae, itoshi rin

yukimiya kenyu

he tries so hard to act chill. like “yeah, her arms are pretty nice i guess,” but then he’s literally taking pictures of your flexed biceps at dinner.

“sorry darling, you were just holding the fork so beautifully. the forearm tension? poetic.”

the first time you picked up a suitcase for him, he went dead silent, stared at you like you were the moon, and whispered, “i’ve never loved anything more in my life.”

refuses to do anything involving heavy lifting now. “no no, i wouldn’t want to rob you of your passion.”

once accidentally called your biceps “works of god’s architecture” during an interview and now it’s a fan meme.

“you’re like aphrodite, if she benched 200 pounds. i love you. i’d get your arm veins tattooed on my own arms.”

karasu tabito

is openly and proudly obsessed.

sees you doing cable rows at the gym and audibly says “YESSSS MA’AM.”

posts thirst traps of you. literally just you tying your hair back in a tank top and he’s captioning it, “i would let her snap me in half like a glowstick.”

asks you to flex and pretends to faint every time. no exceptions. he once did it on the subway.

literally sulks when you beat him in an arm wrestle. not because he lost, but because he didn’t get to stare at your arms longer.

“i’m not saying i want you to carry me into battle but– wait no, that’s exactly what i’m saying. pick me up. now.”

mikage reo

“my girlfriend? oh, she doesn’t need security. she is the security.”

started lifting just so he could “match you.” he’s been stuck curling 30’s for three months and you’re casually deadlifting his bodyweight.

brings you to fancy events just to show you off. “hi, this is my girlfriend. she’s hotter than everyone here and can bench-press your dad.”

melts when you carry him. giggles. literally giggles.

asked you to crush a watermelon with your thighs as a party trick and then had to excuse himself.

“you know what’s sexy? dominance. and lat spreads. you have both. please never leave me.”

isagi yoichi

so supportive. so lovestruck.

took one look at your arms and whispered, “yo... she could actually beat me up and i’d say thank you.”

holds your hand at the gym and pretends it’s because he’s romantic but really he’s just trying to feel your forearm muscles.

gets visibly nervous when you wear sleeveless shirts. like, “please god don’t let me get a nosebleed in public.”

one time you opened a pickle jar for him and he just stared at you like you were the chosen one.

“hey um. love. quick question. how do i politely ask you to crush me?”

kaiser michael

so smug about dating you, but also on his knees.

walked past a mirror, saw you flexing, and squeaked. actually squeaked.

you challenged him to a pull-up contest and when you won, he said “do it again. for science.”

has a pic of your arms as his lock screen and when mess saw it he just nodded solemnly.

calls you his “golden muscle angel.” you said that was weird and he doubled down. “NO. I STAND BY IT.”

posts gym couple pics and zooms in on your biceps every time. his captions are like, “me and my goddess 🛐 pls don’t arm wrestle her, she bites.”

shidou ryusei

this man took one look at your biceps and started foaming at the mouth.

“bro, what the hell are you made of? steel?? mama mia.”

asked you to arm wrestle him and then moaned halfway through. you weren’t even trying yet.

you opened a jar of pickles with one hand and he fell to his knees.

“hey babe, quick question. how many men have you bench pressed? would you like to make it one more?”

tries to outlift you, fails, then begs to be your gym pet.

“you’re so hot when you ignore gym rules. choke me with a resistance band.”

once barked at you mid-set and then claimed he blacked out from admiration. “i think i saw god. she had traps.”

itoshi sae

he pretends like he doesn’t care. always the deadpan, too-cool act.

“you’re not even that strong.” (immediately gets flustered when you flex. quietly takes a sip of his drink to hide it.)

but one day you picked him up bridal style as a joke and he had to literally leave the room to collect himself.

when you're in tank tops, he won't make eye contact with you. stares directly at the wall behind you instead.

has this look on his face like he’s annoyed when you open jars, carry furniture, or deadlift his teammates, but he’s actually fighting for his life.

“i don’t like when people show off.” you: casually flexing to wipe sweat off your forehead. sae: swallowing hard “… do that again.”

his toxic trait is thinking he’s hiding how obsessed he is. meanwhile he’s got a private folder of candid pics of your arms labeled “study material.”

itoshi rin

rin’s the type to scowl at you for being too strong, then quietly take a picture of your arms and stare at it in bed at 3 AM.

“that’s too much muscle for a girl,” he mutters. you flex at him. now he’s redder than a tomato and walking into traffic.

you beat him at arm wrestling once and he refused to speak to you for a week. not because he was mad, but because he was embarrassed at how much it turned him on.

once caught himself zoning out while you were stretching. when you asked what he was looking at, he short-circuited and said “geometry.”

you wore a sports bra to work out and he almost cried. like actually had to sit down and “breathe through it.”

“stop carrying me like a princess. it’s emasculating (he says, as he nuzzles into your chest and pretends to be asleep).

deep down? he wants you to ruin his ego and bench press it. he is just too tsundere to admit it.

“shut up. flex again. no one’s looking. except me. obviously. gosh, i hate you.”

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losermuse · 7 hours ago

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PAW-VERWHELMED

CW: gn!reader/mc, body worshiping, caleb grovels for forgiveness, reader is petty and dramatic, not proofread and short AN: caleb you will explode in two days…trust on josephine's grave. (He beat me in kitty cards three times and it pissed me off)

Losing three Kitty Cards matches in a row to Caleb wasn’t the issue—it was the smug little smile after the third win that sent you over the edge. You stood from your shared blanket on the floor, phone in hand, silent and unreadable. Caleb looked up, still grinning, and cards fanned out between his fingers like trophies.

“That was brutal,” he chuckled. “Rematch?”

You gave him one look, blank and empty. Then turned and walked away.

That was two days ago.

Since then, you’d spoken only when absolutely necessary. A nod when he asked if you wanted dinner. A head shake when he offered dessert.

You even slept at the far edge of the bed, wrapped in your own fortress of pillows and plushies. Each one strategically positioned to face him—an army of stuffed witnesses to his crimes.

Caleb had tried everything.

Your favourite snacks he knew you liked? Unopened and untouched.

Your favourite tea that he made in your chipped dragon mug? Went cold.

Memes and videos of him saying this is us? Left on read.

You basically ignored him.

And that was worse.

The second night, he found you curled up on the bed again. His hoodie swamped your frame, legs tucked beneath you, eyes on your phone and headphones in. No glance spared his way. Just the occasional ghost of a smile at whatever video you were watching.

Caleb stood in the doorway, breathing in deeply before stepping inside.

“I made your tea,” he said gently, “with honey. Just how you like it.”

Nothing.

He placed the mug on the nightstand like it was a peace offering and then sat on the floor beside the bed with his head bowed.

“I booked us tickets to that movie you’ve been wanting to see,” he tried again. “This weekend. I made sure it doesn’t clash with anything.”

Still no response.

Caleb took a chance to look up. You were still beautiful in your silence, and if you’d turned just slightly, you’d see how his gaze clung to you like he was trying to memorise your silhouette.

He dropped his chin onto the edge of the mattress with a soft, defeated sigh.

“Please talk to me.”

Finally, your voice came, low and cold, like ice down his spine.

“You didn’t have to combo me like that.”

His lips parted. “It wasn’t on purpose. I just…got excited.”

You pulled your headphones down and turned to face him. For the first time in two days.

“And you smiled.”

“I… I did?”

“A smug smile,” you said, pointedly. “Like you were proud of breaking me.”

He groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “It was Kitty Cards, pipsqueak. I didn’t think it would cost me everything.”

“That’s the problem,” you said. “It wasn’t just a game. It was our game. I invited you into something I enjoy, and you…you comboed me to death.”

Each word struck like a hit to the gut. Caleb swallowed thickly, then shifted onto his knees beside the bed, and resting his palms on the edge.

He then started crawling onto the mattress.

Slowly. Shamefully.

Like a puppy denied the couch but still wanting to lie at your feet. His large hands sank into the comforter as he climbed up, shoulders hunched and gazed lowered.

He didn’t speak or crack a joke.

Instead, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your ankle.

Soft. Barely there. His breath trembled.

You didn’t move. But you didn’t stop him either.

Caleb kissed it again, just above your sock line, reverent and silent.

“You haven’t even glared at me,” he whispered. “Do you know how sick that is? I miss your glare.”

Still nothing.

So he kissed the inside of your calf. Then just beneath your knee. Each press of his lips was more desperate, like maybe he could earn your forgiveness one inch at a time.

“I brought my dumb competitive pilot brain into something sacred,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to be good at something you loved so you’d be proud of me.”

You finally looked at him—expression unreadable, but eyes locked.

That was enough to undo him.

He rested his cheek against your thigh, looking up with his big violet glassy eyes, and a soft voice.

“You’re my favourite place to be.”

You didn’t answer, but your fingers twitched. He caught it.

So he nuzzled you gently, like a mutt seeking warmth, then whispered, “I’ll wear the kitty ears. I’ll meow. I’ll let you combo me every day for the rest of my life.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Do it. Now.”

“Meow,” he whispered immediately. “Meow. Meow.”

Your hand finally reached down, cupping his face. He leaned into it like a drowning man would to air.

“You’re pathetic.”

“I know.”

“And dramatic.”

“Only for you.”

You traced your thumb along his cheek, and his eyes fluttered shut at the contact.

“You’re not allowed to win without grovelling again,” you murmured.

“Deal.”

“And next time you combo me like that…” you leaned forward just slightly, your lips close enough to feel his breath stutter, “you better cry about it.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

He smiled. “You looked hot ignoring me, by the way.”

You shoved a plushie into his face. “Caleb.”

He kissed the plushie. “Still counts.”

#꒰ა 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 .ᐟ #caleb x reader #caleb x mc #lads caleb #lnds caleb #love and deepspace caleb #lads x reader

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r3ynah · 20 hours ago

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Incorrect quotes with the undead fam

These quotes about them are yours to interpret, I'm just here cuz I like found family teehee.

Danny and Jazz

Danny: coughs blood Jazz: Don't die, Danny! Danny: Don't tell me what to do!

Danny : Any tips on how to make someone like me? Jazz: Try to make them laugh all the time. Danny : Oh, wow! You actually help me for once, and it's even good advice! Jazz: Yeah, the more they laugh, the more time they spend with their eyes closed, so it'd be easier.

Jazz, to Danny : You're not Mario. Lets get something fucking straight, you're Luigi at best.

Jazz: Swear words are illegal now. If you say one you'll be fined. Danny : Heck. Jazz: You're on thin fucking ice. Jazz: Oh no-

Danny and Jason

Danny: I try to avoid pointless group activities. You know like school Christmas Parties or Jury Duty. To me, the most awful sound in the universe is that mangled first note of your peers singing happy birthday. Jason: Cool stance. Counterpoint: these are free cupcakes. Get over yourself and take one.

Jason: slams down an absolute doorstopper of a tome I checked this out weeks ago for a bit of light reading. Danny: This is light?!

Jason: You ever get so tired that you start seeing spiders? Danny : Me after I take 17 Benadryl and start seeing the hat man. Jason: THE WHO? Danny : Oh is this not a safe space suddenly?

Danny : Hey Jason? Jason: Yeah? Danny : What's your favorite color of the alphabet? True or false? Jason: Jason: …What.

Jason: Fine! I don't give a shit! Danny : You seem to give a lot of shit for someone who claims not to give a shit.

Danny and Dani

Dani: What? I'm not aggressive! Danny: Last Tuesday, you wacked me with a pair of crocs and stole my chocolate chips? Dani: Survival of the fittest, bitch.

Danny: I'm going to ask you to be respectful. Dani: I will politely decline.

Dani: If it pleases the court I would like to say that my opponent is TALKING SHIT! Danny: …

Dani: Here is my wall of inspirational people. Danny: Is that a picture of you? Dani: Yes, I am big enough to admit that I am often inspired by myself.

Danny: Why can't any of you ever clean up after yourselves? Dani: I have a person who does that for me. Danny: Yeah, ME. Dani: I'm glad you agree.

Jazz and Jason

Jazz: Jason, you need to react when people cry! Jason: I did. I rolled my eyes.

Jazz when she saw joker: Kill him. Jason: This is the kind of quality advice I look for.

Jazz, to Jason: Well, one of us has to be wrong and it’s not going to be me.

Jason: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go. Jazz: Those are wanted posters!

Jazz: Hey, how are you doing today? Jason: Can we change the subject before I start crying?

Jazz and Dani

Jazz: This is ridiculous! Dani : Hey, someone’s gotta be the jester for the court.

Dani : Honestly, I am so evil. So full of darkness. I feed of the souls of the living I strike fear into- Jazz: You sleep with a teddybear. Dani : He’s my sECOND IN COMMAND IN MY ARMY OF DARKNESS!

Jazz: You’re charged with…..breaking into a pet store? Dani : I thought the animals might be lonely.

Jazz: Trouble at 2 o'clock! Dani : looks down at their watch Dani : Now, how do you know that?

Jazz: That's not funny. Dani : I thought it was funny. Jazz: You don't count. You started laughing in the middle of a funeral because you started thinking of a meme you saw on Facebook.

Dani and Jason

Dani: What’s the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite? Jason: “Stalagmite” has an “m” in it.

Jason: Pick a card, any card. Dani: Fine. Jason: Wait, that's my credit card! Dani: You said any card.

Dani: Good news! I didn’t screw up! Jason: … Dani: I screwed up less badly than usual! Jason: … Dani: Screwed up with less immediate consequences than usual.

Dani: Guys, they're definitely prepared for us. They even have a training model of our brand new top-secret stealth helicopter. Jason: No you idiot, that’s ours we crashed! Dani: Oh yeah. I guess that makes more sense.

Dani: I want to grow up and be like Jason! Jason: That is called Acquiring Depression.

All of em'

Danny : writing a letter Danny : Dear Santa, I'm writing to let you know I've been naughty… And it was worth it you fat, judgemental bastard.

Dani : You gotta slow down and smell the flowers… appreciate life’s miracles. Dani : Like me. I’m life’s greatest miracle.

Jazz being 6'6: I'd make fun of your height but there isn't enough to make fun of.

Jason: My life isn't as glamourous as my wanted poster makes it look.

Danny, to someone that angered them: Holds two middle fingers Jason: Can’t say I’m surprised… Dani: Yeah, flip em off, Danny! Jazz, also angry: Holds one middle finger Jason and Dani, both very distressed: we bout to die a second time.

Jason: Why is Dani crying on the floor? Jazz: They took one of those 'what Ancient are you?' quizzes. Jason: And? Jazz: They got Phantom.

#dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dcxdp #dp x dc fanfic #the found family is familying

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iitslera · 2 days ago

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Inquebrantable ✶ Héctor Fort x OCFEM

summary: Like Robert Lewandowski's younger sister you are forbidden to go out with soccer players, but this promise will be affected when you meet Hector

warnings: english is not my first language (use of translator), other than that, I think nothing else :p

a/n: something loose to be honest, I'll probably have to correct it later

The surname Lewandowski weighed. No matter how much you tried to be invisible, in the environment of FC Barcelona it was impossible not to be recognized as the sister of. At the age of 18, you have temporarily moved to Barcelona to go to university, a choice that Robert had applauded - although with a non-negotiable condition: “Nothing with club footballers. I warn you.”

And you, as a good younger sister, had nodded with a smile. One that, inside, hid a mixture of irony and unconsciousness.

Because then I didn’t know Hector Fort.

The first time he saw him was in a common area of the training center. He was leaving a technical meeting, you were looking for your brother. Their eyes crossed briefly, but enough for time to stretch a couple more seconds. Hector had that calm contained in his eyes. The same one that disarms you without raising your voice.

Then came the fleeting encounters. A greeting, a polite phrase, a smile. And eventually, messages on Instagram. Innocent at first. Memes, jokes, recommendations of places in the city.

The messages became routine. First at night, when the day had already closed and there was no risk that anyone would notice. Then, at any time. During classes. In the subway. Between coffee and notes. He had the ability to show up just when you shouldn’t be distracted. And you, the lack of will to ignore it.

You knew it was a thin line. Dangerously thin. Because Robert trusted you. And Hector... Hector played with him.

The day you agreed to see him outside the club environment, you did it with a conscience so awake that every step you took towards him you felt it was an echo. They chose a discreet place, a cafeteria in Gràcia where the light was dim and other people’s eyes always seemed to look away.

He arrived with a cap. You, with a wild heart.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” he told you, with that half smile that was already starting to hurt from imagining it so much.

“Me too,” you replied. But you were there. Looking at it closely. Discovering that the screen did not do him justice.

They talked about everything. From soccer. From the university. Of how difficult it was for you to be someone other than Robert’s sister. He listened carefully. An attention that no one else had offered you in that city, as if what you said really mattered.

And then... the silence.

Not uncomfortable. Not tense. But the one that comes when the air begins to take on something inevitable.

He didn’t approach. It didn’t touch you. But **he held your gaze**. Firmly. As if I knew that doing it was a mistake, but also that **not doing it would be a waste**.

“This is wrong,” you murmured, barely audible.

“I know,” he replied, with his eyes on yours. “But I want to see you again.”

Your breathing broke a little. Because you also wanted to. And because you knew that with just one more time, there would be no return.

Then came more appointments. In lost coffees. In parks at dusk. In secondary streets. And one day, in his car, with the windows fogged up and an old song in the background, **his lips met yours**. It was soft. Careful. As if the two knew that they were in a land as sacred as it was forbidden.

His hands didn’t go past your waist. But they were shaking.

“If Robert finds out...” you said, with your voice still trembling. “Don’t let him find out,” he murmured, resting his forehead on yours.

“For now.”

A Tuesday. The kind of day that no one expects for a clandestine encounter. That’s why, perhaps, it was perfect. You had escaped from class with a poorly elaborated excuse, one of those that are not counted twice because even you know that they don’t make sense. Hector was free that morning. They were training in the afternoon. They had spent almost five days without seeing each other - which was already an eternity in their secret language.

Hector’s apartment smelled of freshly brewed coffee. There was soft music playing from the speaker, something without lyrics, only slow chords that filled the air without stealing prominence.

You were sitting at the kitchen bar with your training pants on and your favorite sweater, the one that was too big for you and that he always said looked like his. It wasn’t, but it was starting to smell like it was. Hector cooked something simple - scrambled eggs with toast - while you flipped through a book you didn’t really read.

“You don’t know how hard it was for me not to look for you on the weekend,” he said, without looking at you, while stirring the eggs with the fork.

You hadn’t had it easy either. Family dinners, Robert’s workouts, the controlled environment of his perfect world in which you could barely breathe without feeling observed.

“My brother almost took away my cell phone. He says I’m “strangely distracted”” you mocked, without looking up.

“Strangely?” He smiled, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s worried. He says that instead of focusing on college, he sees me with my head elsewhere.”

“And he’s right,” he said, putting the pan aside and walking towards you. He got between your legs, his hands on your hips, his forehead brushing yours “You’re thinking about me all the time, right?”

“Idiot” you murmured, smiling against his lips before kissing him.

That kiss was different.

I didn’t have the urgency of other times. It was not fast, nor stolen, nor silent. It was slow, dangerous for what it meant. For the time they were allowing themselves to stay there. Too much time.

Your legs closed around his waist. His hands went up under the sweater. There was no need to talk. Both knew by heart the lines they could not cross, but they also knew exactly how far they dared to go.

Hector put you in the inn, the book falling to the floor with a deaf blow. He kissed you with his eyes closed, as if he needed to concentrate so as not to lose control. Your breathing became more agitated when his fingers slid down your thighs with the familiarity that is only earned after many mornings shared.

“Sometimes it makes me want to send everything to hell” he said, against your neck “Your brother, the club, what they say. Just... stay like this. Every day.”

“And if someone sees us leaving here” you whispered, your voice broken by the mixture of fear and desire.

“No one will do it. I promise that today, it’s just you and me.” They hugged like that, for a while. It didn’t even matter that breakfast got cold. On television, the volume was low, but enough for a *Breaking News* notification to go unnoticed.

Until your phone vibrated.

A message. From Robert.

“Where are you?”

Your heart turned over. Hector felt it, because he squeezed you harder.

“Is everything okay?” He asked.

“It’s him. He’s looking for me.”

“Your brother?” You nodded. You got off the inn with a sigh that hurt more than any farewell. He looked at you, without saying anything. He only helped you fix your hair, pull down your sleeves, see you less... his.

But you already were. You were completely.

“I’m going to have to go out through the back parking lot” you said, looking at the time.

“I’ll go with you.”

“No. Stay. If someone sees you coming down with me...” you didn’t say it, but they both understood.

You kissed him one last time, fast. Incomplete.

While you were leaving, he stayed at the door. Watching you walk away.

Because that was his story:

A coming and going of silences broken by looks.

A love so intense that, if he dared to say his name, he could break everything up.

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squidsquidsquidsquidsquidgame · 3 days ago

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Dae-ho having his first ever sexting session with reader,at first he’s so puppy like and shy just like the dae-ho we know…and then he gets carried away with pics and even facetime ;)

Sexting, It isn't sex it's the next best thing

Pairing: Dae-ho x Reader Rating: Explicit (18+) Tropes: First-time sexting, shy-to-dominant transformation, dom!Dae-ho, daddy kink, facetime tease

Word Count: ~4.3k

Warnings: Sexting, explicit content, dom/sub themes, dirty talk, mild praise/degradation, consent emphasized

You hadn’t expected anything more than your usual late-night back-and-forth with Dae-ho. Sweet little check-ins, some flirty banter, the occasional teasing meme. But tonight, something was different.

Dae-ho: Are you still up?

You smiled. Of course you were. He knew that.

You: Yeah, just in bed. Why?

Three dots danced at the bottom of the screen for longer than usual. You could picture him hesitating, maybe fidgeting, maybe biting his lip in that shy little way he always did.

Dae-ho: I’ve never done this before but… can I say something kind of bad?

Your heart skipped. Something shifted in your stomach—part nerves, part anticipation.

You: Always.

Dae-ho: I was just thinking about you. Like, really thinking. I keep imagining your skin. Your thighs. Your lips.

You blinked, heat blooming across your face. Dae-ho? Your soft, bashful Dae-ho? He could barely hold eye contact without blushing, and now he was texting you about your thighs?

You: You’re thinking about my thighs, huh?

Dae-ho: …Yeah.

Dae-ho: And your moans.

That one-word reply hit hard. You could feel it in your core, how your body reacted to just a few letters on a screen. You stared at your phone a moment longer, before your fingers moved on their own.

You: You’ve never heard them.

Another pause.

Dae-ho: I want to.

Dae-ho: God, I want to so bad. I want to hear you fall apart just because of me.

You were soaked already, stunned by how fast he flipped the switch. Still, you had to tease. You had to remind him of the boy you met, the one who got flustered just by brushing your hand.

You: Look at you. So confident all of a sudden. What happened to shy, blushing Dae-ho?

He replied instantly.

Dae-ho: He’s still here. But he’s hard now. And thinking about you touching yourself for me.

You gasped softly at the boldness. Before you could type another word, another message dropped.

Dae-ho: Can I see you? Just a little?

The rush of blood to your cheeks was immediate. But you reached for the hem of your shirt anyway, fingers trembling with adrenaline as you angled the camera just enough to catch the swell of your breasts in the dim glow of your bedside lamp.

You sent it.

And waited.

Dae-ho: Fuck.

Dae-ho: You're perfect. You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.

Dae-ho: Can I send you something?

You bit your lip.

You: Yes.

The photo came through—low angle, shirt lifted just enough to show toned abs, a trace of the waistband of his boxers. And below it… unmistakable. Thick and hard, straining under the fabric.

Your breath hitched. You tapped on the image once. Twice.

You: Jesus, Dae-ho.

Dae-ho: I want to be inside you so fucking bad.

Gone was the shy, hesitant boy who used to stammer when you called him cute. This Dae-ho? He was throbbing through your screen. Demanding. Needy.

And you loved it.

You: Tell me what you’d do if you were here.

Dae-ho: I’d push your legs apart so slow, so fucking slow. Just to watch you squirm. You’d be soaked, wouldn’t you?

You: I am.

You didn't wait for him to ask. You slipped your hand under the waistband of your panties, took a photo that barely caught your fingers between your folds. Wet. Swollen. Glowing with heat.

You sent it.

A video call request came seconds later.

Your heart skipped.

You hesitated.

Accepted.

And then he was there, his face filling the screen—hair messy, pupils blown wide, lips parted. And behind the camera, his hand moved. Up. Down. Slow strokes. You could hear the wet slide of his palm on his cock.

“Baby,” he groaned, low and raw. “Fuck, I can’t stop thinking about how tight you’d be.”

You whimpered, spreading your legs, letting the camera tilt just slightly to show the damp patch on your sheets.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded.

His voice was different. Deeper. Steady.

“Put two fingers in. Now.”

You obeyed.

“Good girl. Keep them there.”

God.

You were panting now, unable to hide it as you thrust your fingers in and out, matching the rhythm of his strokes.

“Fuck, I wanna bend you over this bed,” he grunted, his movements jerky now, faster. “Wanna grip your hips and fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”

You whined, close.

“I’d make you beg. Call me daddy. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped.

“Say it.”

“Please, daddy—don’t stop. Please.”

He growled. You watched his whole body shudder, muscles tensing as he came hard, thick ropes of cum spilling across his hand.

But he didn’t stop watching you.

“Don’t hold back. I wanna see your face when you come.”

It only took a few more seconds. You moaned loud, fingers curling deep inside you as your climax crashed through your body. Your thighs shook. Your lips parted in a trembling cry.

Dae-ho’s voice came again—softer this time, low and reverent.

“Fuck… you’re so beautiful when you come.”

You both sat there, catching your breath through a screen glowing with desire.

Shy, blushing Dae-ho was still there.

But so was the man who’d just ruined you with a look.

#squid game 2 #squid game headcanons #squid game #squid game netflix #squid game season 2 #squid game imagines #squid game x y/n #dae ho squid game #dae ho x reader #kang dae ho #dae ho #kang dae ho x reader #dae ho imagine #dae ho smut

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pasiione · 22 hours ago

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Offline, Online - Chapter 1

[Eventual smut will be in this story]

^ (if you don't like that stuff I suggest not reading)

James "Bucky" Barnes/ReaderJames & "Bucky" Barnes & Reader

Additional Tags: #POV Alternating #Online Friendship #Online Relationship #Online Romance #Chatting & Messaging #Eventual Smut #Eventual Romance #Eventual Relationships #Eventual Sex #Slow Burn #Slow Romance #Bucky Barnes Feels #Bucky Barnes/Female Reader #Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #AngstFluff

Summary:

Ever since losing Steve and feeling increasingly isolated, Bucky Barnes finds himself surrounded by familiar faces but still haunted by loneliness. Craving connection outside of his Avenger identity, he turns to the anonymity of the internet—just to talk, just to feel normal. He doesn’t expect much... until a message board about classic literature leads him to an unexpected spark with a stranger named KirbyLuver25.

She’s witty, passionate about books, and totally unaware she’s chatting with the former Winter Soldier. Their late-night conversations start off playful, full of banter about The Great Gatsby and memes he doesn’t understand. But what begins as light-hearted slowly turns into something deeper—a genuine friendship built on words typed in quiet moments.

In a world where he’s always been known as a weapon or a hero, Bucky finds comfort in being just "BucksterBuck07" to someone who doesn’t expect him to save the world—only to show up, reply, and maybe smile once in a while.

The Avengers Tower was a masterpiece of modern design, but Bucky Barnes couldn't have cared less. Tall glass walls, cutting-edge tech, fully stocked kitchens, gravity-defying training rooms—none of it mattered when the echo of his own thoughts was louder than anything else in the building. The place was full of people, sure, but it might as well have been a ghost town as far as he was concerned.

Bob—no one called him Sentry even though he technically was the Sentry—floated past the hallway outside Bucky's room like some kind of golden retriever with cosmic powers. Bucky watched him through the crack in the door, the way his perfect hair barely shifted as he hovered, sipping what looked like some alien herbal tea.

"Hey Buck, movie night tomorrow?" Bob called, already halfway down the hall.

"Maybe," Bucky mumbled, knowing damn well he wouldn’t go.

The door clicked shut, and silence reclaimed the room.

Yelena had tried. A few days ago, she'd barged in with takeout and a grimace, tossing a fortune cookie at his head. "Eat. Be less broody. You are not Batman."

John Walker had tried the opposite approach: pushing Bucky during sparring matches, saying things like "You need to get out of your head, man," which was rich coming from him. Ava occasionally sent memes she didn’t understand. David Harbour had given him a beard grooming kit last week with no explanation.

It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate them. He did. But there was a difference between being surrounded and being seen.

Steve used to see him.

Bucky ran a hand over his face and sighed. He was tired of feeling like the ghost of a man who had already done his dying.

So he did the last thing anyone would expect James Buchanan Barnes to do: he opened a laptop.

He wasn’t great with tech. Not in the way his other friends or literally anyone under thirty. But he could type. He could search. He knew how to be anonymous—he was good at that part.

At first, he didn’t know where to go. Forums felt too public. Social media was a no-go. Too many pictures, too many people who’d recognize the face he didn’t want to wear.

Now here he was, 10:49 PM on a Tuesday night, staring at a Reddit thread about vintage jazz albums, scrolling past usernames like “VinylJunkie99” and “DukeEllingtonStan.” He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for. Something to distract him. Someone to talk to.

Someone who didn’t know his name.

He clicked into a music sub-forum. Then out. Then into a forum about old books. Then out again.

He didn’t do much yet. Just read.

One thread caught his eye. “Books that hit different when you're older.” Someone mentioned The Great Gatsby, and Bucky blinked.

He remembered reading it in high school, long before the war. He'd liked Nick. Hadn't thought much about Gatsby himself, other than the fact that the guy clearly had issues.

He scrolled through the replies. Some made him laugh. Others made him annoyed. But for the first time in days, maybe weeks, he felt interested.

He hesitated.

And then he made an account.

Username: BucksterBuck07

Steve would’ve rolled his eyes at the name. Which was exactly why Bucky picked it.

He hesitated again, then typed:

BucksterBuck07: Honestly? Gatsby was kinda asking for it. But Nick deserved better. And Jordan too.

He stared at it for a full minute before hitting send. Once it was out there, a weird tension settled in his chest. Maybe no one would reply. Maybe that was better.

He almost closed the laptop. Almost.

But then—

Ping.

A reply.

KirbyLuver25: wait omg YES. Gatsby was the original red flag. Also Nick is my sweet confused baby.

KirbyLuver25: I have like 7 theories about Jordan and Nick being soulmates. Do not test me lol.

The corners of Bucky’s mouth lifted before he could stop them. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was close enough.

He typed back.

BucksterBuck07: Ok I gotta hear these theories now.

And just like that, she started typing.

Meanwhile, across the building, Bob was floating upside down outside the kitchen, sipping another mug of his suspiciously calm tea. Yelena walked in, saw him, and immediately turned back around.

"What?" Bob asked.

"You’re giving ghost energy," she said, pointing at him without turning.

"I’m meditating."

"You’re creeping."

Back in Bucky’s room, he didn’t notice the noise in the rest of the Tower. For once, his world was quiet in the right way. His fingers hovered over the keyboard as the next reply from KirbyLuver25 popped up.

KirbyLuver25: THEORY ONE: Jordan acts like she doesn’t care because she does. She’s just too emotionally intelligent to get caught up in Gatsby’s drama. She sees through it. But she doesn’t know how to let herself be soft with Nick.

KirbyLuver25: THEORY TWO: Nick is queer. I will die on this hill. The way he writes about Gatsby? Sir.

KirbyLuver25: THEORY THREE: They both left NYC and met again years later in a small, quiet place where no one threw giant parties and they finally fell in love.

Bucky sat there, letting the words settle. No one talked like this around him. No one just… daydreamed at him.

BucksterBuck07: Not gonna lie, I think she scared the hell outta him.

KirbyLuver25: He needed a little scaring. He had main character complex.

KirbyLuver25: Also sorry I just brain-dumped on you. Not many people care this much about 100-year-old fictional drama.

BucksterBuck07: I don’t mind. You made me laugh.

There was a longer pause this time. She was typing. Then she stopped. Then typing again.

KirbyLuver25: Then I consider my work here done :D

He didn’t want the conversation to end.

BucksterBuck07: You read a lot of old stuff?

KirbyLuver25: Yeah. Mostly 1920s–50s. Music too. I think I was born in the wrong era.

BucksterBuck07: Yeah… I get that.

KirbyLuver25: Wait really? Most people just say I’m a hipster.

BucksterBuck07: They’re wrong.

He paused, unsure if that came off weird. But her next message came in quickly.

KirbyLuver25: You’re nicer than most trolls on this site lol.

BucksterBuck07: Not a troll. Just a guy who likes old books.

KirbyLuver25: Same. Maybe I’ll tell you about my favorite banned books next time. You know, if you survive all the Gatsby discourse.

BucksterBuck07: I’ll be here. Same time?

KirbyLuver25: Deal. Goodnight, Buckster.

He stared at that last message.

Goodnight.

He hadn’t had someone say that to him—someone who wasn’t on a comm, or bleeding out next to him on a battlefield—in a long time.

He closed the laptop gently.

Somewhere outside his room, Yelena was yelling at David about leaving wet socks in the common area. Bob was still probably upside down somewhere. John Walker was probably lifting something heavy just to grunt about it.

And Bucky—Bucky Barnes—was smiling in the dark.

Not because of a mission. Not because of Steve. Not because of who he was supposed to be.

Just because of a girl who liked Nick Carraway.

And maybe, just maybe, liked talking to him too.

The first thing you do the next morning is check your phone, half-convinced you dreamed the whole thing. Admittedly, you’d had a little more wine than planned last night. But to your surprise, all the messages were still there—every reply of your conversation with BucksterBuck07.

Plus, there was a new comment from a random user:

Gr3atGatsbyLver23: Can you guys get out of my post?? Go flirt in your DMs. #thirstyMFS

You snort a laugh, shaking your head. Okay, fair. You tap over to Buckster’s profile and start a private message:

KirbyLuver25: Figured I’d DM you so Gatsby Lover 23 doesn’t explode. lol

KirbyLuver25: Hope that’s okay?

You set your phone down on the counter and head to the bathroom, brushing your teeth and taming your hair into something halfway decent. Once back in your room, you start picking out your outfit for the day, trying not to think too hard about whether or not he’s going to reply.

You were just on your way to the kitchen to make some coffee before work when you heard the familiar ping of a message.

Your heart jumped a little. You didn’t mean to break into a full-speed walk back to your room, but somehow you did. Practically launching yourself onto the bed, you snatched up your phone.

It was him.

BucksterBuck07: What’s a DM?

You blink at the message, then let out a quiet laugh.

KirbyLuver25: Direct Message. This is one. 🙃

BucksterBuck07: Got it. New to all this. Bear with me.

KirbyLuver25: Don’t worry, I won’t quiz you… yet.

There’s a brief pause while you sip your coffee—finally made it to the kitchen—and then another message pops up.

BucksterBuck07: Appreciate the rescue. GatsbyLover23 was about to come at us with a pitchfork.

KirbyLuver25: LMAO right?? I was waiting for them to start tagging moderators 😂

BucksterBuck07: I don’t even know what that means, but it sounds bad.

You can’t help smiling at your phone like an idiot. He’s definitely older than you thought, but not in a bad way. There's something kind of charming about how earnestly confused he is by internet slang.

KirbyLuver25: It’s okay. You’ve officially survived your first online drama.

BucksterBuck07: Do I get a medal?

KirbyLuver25: I’ll knit you one.

BucksterBuck07: Deal. I’ll pretend I know how to accept that.

You sit on the barstool in your kitchen for a second, thumb hovering over the screen. He’s funny. A little awkward. But there’s a softness to him that makes you want to keep talking.

So you do.

KirbyLuver25: So… how did you even find that thread anyway? You don’t exactly seem like the Gatsby discourse type.

There’s a longer pause this time. You wonder if maybe that was too nosy. But then:

BucksterBuck07: Couldn’t sleep. Just… wandered until I found something that felt quiet. Your comment made me laugh. So I stayed.

You hadn’t expected him to say that. Then again you didn't know what you were expecting.

KirbyLuver25: Well… I’m glad you stayed Buckster.

Another pause. Then:

BucksterBuck07: Me too.

BucksterBuck07: Also… Buckster?

KirbyLuver25: I mean, that’s what your username says, so I figured I could call you that.

BucksterBuck07: Right. Forgot about that.BucksterBuck07: You can call me Bucky. That’s what everyone else calls me.

KirbyLuver25: Bucky... I like that! Is that your real name? (If you don’t mind me asking)

BucksterBuck07: Nah. It’s a nickname a friend gave me a long time ago. Kinda stuck ever since.

KirbyLuver25: Oh cool! I really like it. You can call me Kirb.

BucksterBuck07: Okay. Kirb.

You laugh, shaking your head. Something about the way he just dropped your name so formally, like he was testing it out loud, makes it even funnier.

BucksterBuck07: Is that your real name?

KirbyLuver25: Nope. I just picked the name because I love Kirby! He’s so round and pink and adorable.

BucksterBuck07: Pink? He’s a pink man?

KirbyLuver25: NO 😭

KirbyLuver25: You don’t know who Kirby is?? I feel like such a nerd now :(

You watch the typing dots appear… then disappear. Uh oh.

You bite your lip, worried you scared him off with your chaotic pink puffball fandom, but just you were about to take it back...

The dots reappear.

BucksterBuck07: Just looked him up. He is… very pink. And not a man. Definitely not a man.

BucksterBuck07: Also, why would Kirby make you feel like a nerd? If anything, those Gatsby theories were way nerdier.

You actually laugh out loud at that.

KirbyLuver25: LMAO!! You’re hilarious 😂

BucksterBuck07: What?

KirbyLuver25: ??

BucksterBuck07: What does LMAO mean?

KirbyLuver25: It means "laughing my ass off." You’re such an old man. I’m crying 😭

BucksterBuck07: Huh??

KirbyLuver25: Nvm

KirbyLuver25: (That means “never mind,” Grandpa)

BucksterBuck07: Rude. I’m not that old.

KirbyLuver25: Says the guy who had to Google Kirby.

BucksterBuck07: Low blow, Kirb. Low blow.

There’s a pause in the chat for a minute. You glance at the time. You should probably be getting ready for work by now, but… this is way more fun.

Your phone pings again.

BucksterBuck07: I don’t usually talk like this. To people online, I mean.

KirbyLuver25: I figured. You give off “grumpy guy at the bookstore who eventually opens up” vibes.

BucksterBuck07: …You got me.

KirbyLuver25: Well, I’m glad you opened up. I like talking to you.

Another pause.

You wonder if you went too far—but then:

BucksterBuck07: I like talking to you too.

You stare at that for a second, warmth creeping across your face. It's stupid how giddy a message from a strange can make you feel. You sip your now cold coffee and look at the time.

"Shit, I have to start heading to work." You said to yourself out loud.

KirbyLuver25: Alright, Buckster. I actually have to go to work now :(

KirbyLuver25: Can I text you later?

BucksterBuck07: Yeah. I’ll be here.

KirbyLuver25: Pinky promise?

BucksterBuck07: I don’t know what that is but… yeah. Promise.

You grin.

It’s silly. It’s small. But it makes the whole day feel lighter.

#bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fic #ao3feed #romance

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andminnequin · 3 months ago

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He’s been dubbed therapist ™️

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dewwshi · 2 months ago

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The people demand more Minlach. ( please more we are desperate and your art of them is so good 🥺🥺🥺)

🫡

my beautiful yuri... sooo critical to me that minthara 1. fell first 2. fell harder. something abt the idea of this self-avowed villain being utterly and inexplicably smitten with the sweetest nicest golden retriever girl in the world

#minthara is BEGGING to be fixed. i'm SO MAD that you can't fix her in the game #i do not understand people who are like ''she's irredeemable'' OKAY LET'S BE CLEAR i don't want her to be an unproblematic queen or whateve #she should be a murderer and stuff your honour she did in fact do all that. not discounting that in the slightest #BUT ALSO she did fall for karlach because karlach represents like. hope and happiness and peace and kindness and mercy #it's healing. for minthara. she's not like that cuz she's inherently evil she's fucking traumattiiizzeeeeeddddd #tbh when i first started shipping them i chased my tail a little on why karlach would even like her back but like #come on. karlach would kill for anything if it held her right #literally her greatest fear is being annoying and unlovable #she's a bit of a groveler. and minthara is the opposite of that so she can teach her to stop being a groveler and they meet in the middle #and it's perfect and they lived happily ever after #anyway #the meme on the right is old as fuck and i just never posted it. it's from months ago #which is a little unfortunate because i do think i might like it more than the drawing on the left #which is fresh from the factory (my hand)#but it's fine. it's fine #i also kinda wanna draw them with that 'short girl holding tall guy by the tie' meme? you know the one. that's them #ALSO VERY 'she ask for no pickles' as well #leave it to me to FOR ONCE get into a big fandom and then i pick a NICHE ASS TINY SHIP to get obsessed with #BUT THE BIGGEST SHIPS IN THIS FANDOM ARE FUCKING AWFUL #i fucking despise ********** and ********* IYKYK I WON'T BE A HATER IN THE TAGS BUT FUCKING IYKYYYYK #dm me if you want to hear me go on a tangent about the most popular f/f ship in this fandom and why i hate it with a deep passion #SO BAD #A NY WAY.#bg3 #karlach #karlach cliffgate #minthara #minthara baenre #mintharlach #minlach

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pesky--dust · 1 year ago

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We all laugh (or get annoyed) at Jack for being stupid. I do it myself, but let me stand up for him right now.

Let me start quite obviously: Jack had no ill intentions when he brought Will Graham into the FBI's work. He was convinced that Will could save lives and was ready to support him in that — he wanted Alana Bloom to be his psychological support, and when she refused, he went to the psychiatrist she recommended — Hannibal Lecter.

Yes, I'm annoyed myself with how he keep putting pressure on Will (e.g. episode Coquilles: "You go back to your classroom and there’s more killing that you could have prevented, it will sour that classroom forever") and his way of thinking, which he admitted to Hannibal Lecter in Buffet froid, which I will show with a fragment of the script of the said episode:

(that feeling when you agree with cannibalistic serial killer)

It was after Coquilles in which Will said that he want to quit because it is bad for him, so no Jack, I don't think Will feels the same way.

But this post was supposed to be a defense of Jack Crawford, so let's get back on topic.

Jack didn't know the truth about Hannibal, he didn't know that Will had autoimmune encephalitis, and he had no reason not to believe Hannibal that what was wrong with Will was psychological. After all, Dr. Lecter was the psychiatrist recommended to him! And Jack had every right to believe that Hannibal was giving Will the psychological help he needed in his work with the FBI.

And Hannibal prepared the ground for the version that Will has a mental disorder. The story that Hannibal presented made sense: due to his empathy disorder, Will began to believe that he was G.J. Hobbs and continued his work, ultimately taking the life of his daughter.

Jack recruited Will to work with the FBI, believing in his abilities, but Hannibal made him believe that the job had broken Graham mentally. And it's not unusual for disappointed patients to blame their therapists, so it would be quite a natural turn of events for Will to start claiming that Hannibal is the copycat killer, just to avoid being the one to blame. And there was no evidence against Hannibal, because he took care of it.

And now let me focus on the episode titled Yakimono.

Miriam Lass turned out to be alive. Hannibal's partial fingerprint was found at the place where she was held! And on top of that, Dr. Chilton referenced a cannibalistic joke he heard from Hannibal! And Jack ignored it all!!!

But are you sure? In my opinion, he was already planning to use Will again. I think Jack started to suspect something when Beverly Katz was murdered. In Futamono, he tested the food served at Hannibal's party. No human flesh was found there. With Yakimono though, Will's honey pot act in regards of Hannibal begins.

And my theory may seem to make no sense to you, but let me dig into it.

Let me show you a deleted scene from Kaiseki which I find particularly important, crucial one, here:

Tl;dr: Hannibal is social anti social, Will can shape him somehow, because Hannibal believes that Will is as unique as him himself.

Which leads to the conclusion that…

To catch Hannibal, the FBI must take advantage of his weakness towards Will.

And during his honey pot act, Will was still working with Jack, so why wouldn't Jack trust him? However, in Mizumono, Will called Hannibal, warning him, which led to the bloodbath, so why, even after hearing in Aperitivo that Will wanted to run away with Hannibal and a part of him would always want to (Dolce), did Jack continue to trust him? I think it was because Jack thought Will blamed himself for Abigail's death and since he was trying so hard to be a parent to her, he thought that if he ran away with Hannibal, Abigail would be still alive. And in the end, Will "got" Hannibal arrested, right?

Why did Jack allow Hannibal's fake escape in The Wrath of the Lamb and involved Will in that?

In my opinion it connects with the paragraph from earlier. Three years had passed, Will had gotten married, adopted his wife's son, so he had mentally recovered from the bloodbath and the death of his surrogate daughter, right? He told Jack he was really happy, right?

Will may have warned Hannibal and wanted to run away with him, but he was the reason Hannibal was caught. Three years have passed and Will has gotten himself together. In front of Jack he was playing (at least partially) about how he doesn't want to be drawn into the "game" he was playing with Hannibal again, he warned Molly that when he came back he would be different (he didn't come back), he said Alana that seeing Hanniabal for the first time in three years made him feel like Hannibal was looking through to the back of his skull; felt like a fly flitting around in there (... and the Woman Clothed with the Sun), he assured her that he wouldn't let Hannibal into his head again. Will seemed to be traumatized by all this. Up until...

This is the scene where Will is in Jack's office watching what the Dragon has done to Chilton (The Number of the Beast is 666). He looks terrified, panicked, and then suddenly… he becomes sort of relaxed, calm? Would you agree with that? I guess so. But have you ever noticed that there is a transition between these two reactions? It is in front of Jack and Alana that he is terrified, in front of Bedelia he is calm and admits to her that maybe he exposed Chilton to the Dragon on purpose because he actually hates him (just like in the book, although in the book he set Freddy Lounds up to the Dragon).

Will played in front of Jack until the end. Even when suggesting using Hannibal as bait, Will pretends he's not 100% sure it will work, even though he already had a deal with Francis Dolarhyde (The Wrath of the Lamb). It was us as the audience who knew this, not Jack.

I think that Jack believed Will, because he wanted to; it was his way of trying to rehabilitate himself after what Will had to go through because of him because Jack didn't believe him from the beginning that Hannibal was the Copycat. I think that after it turned out that Hannibal was not only the Copycat Killer, but also the Chesapeake Ripper, Jack decided to never doubt Will's abilities again. And that doomed him, just as Kade Prunnell and Alana Bloom predicted.

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