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thankskenpenders · 2 months ago

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IDW's Knuckles 30th Anniversary special

I'm still working on finishing Shadow Generations and writing up a big thing about it (yes, yes, it's taken me a month to finish a four hour game, I know), but in the meantime we've got another new Classic era comic out from IDW! Let's talk about that.

The last Classic era release we got was the Fang miniseries earlier this year, which I mostly enjoyed but also found a bit underwhelming. It felt like we were getting diminishing returns with the Classic comics. Ian seemed to be struggling to make the Classic era feel fresh within Sega's current restrictions for that branch of the brand, a branch that by its very nature discourages experimentation and new ideas in a way that the ever-evolving Modern era doesn't. He was mostly just playing the hits, sticking the currently permitted Classic era characters next to each other in straightforward one-off adventures and letting the art team do their thing. We were getting the Ian who was happy to simply be able to take these toys out of the toy box. Again, these comics have been fine, and the art's always a treat, but the novelty of simply seeing a comic with the old character designs was wearing off for me when the stories didn't have as much meat as Ian's (or Evan's) excellent Modern era work.

And then along comes this Knuckles 30th Anniversary special, which is by far my favorite Classic Sonic comic Ian's written for IDW.

...I can't really talk about why it's so good without getting into spoilers, though. The short version is that it's a really nice little story about Knuckles and another character from the games, who's used as a great foil for him... except the solicit didn't even say which character it is, so I'm hesitant to say here. But if you're a fan of Knuckles, you should definitely just go read this. It's great. This one's mandatory reading to me.

And with that out of the way, let's dig deeper and get into the spoilers.

The spoiler zone

After an opening that very blatantly homages Tyson Hesse's old Knuckles comic (yes, the very same one that helped inspire the name of this blog), Knuckles realizes that Angel Island has drifted near the Northstar Islands from Sonic Superstars, and decides that the Master Emerald must be giving him a mission to train the archipelago's own resident guardian.

Yes, this isn't just a Knuckles comic. It's a Knuckles and Trip comic!

I was really delighted by this. I like Trip a lot, and it's nice to get this chance to expand upon her as a character. I think this is her first speaking role, even? I'm glad to see her stick around, and I'm glad to see her appear in the comics so soon, especially since we're still waiting for the mainline comics to incorporate Sage. She's still clumsy and fairly timid, like in the game, but without the looming thread of Eggman she gets to let loose a little. She's very exuberant and expressive and playful, especially thanks to Aaron Hammerstrom's fantastic art throughout the issue (complemented with inks by Rik Mack and colors by Valentina Pinto). It makes sense why she gets along so well with Amy. I hope we get to see those two interact more in the future!

Anyway, so Knuckles shows up on the Northstar Islands after contemplating his lot in life, and realizes that he and Trip have a lot in common. She's not as strong or confident as him, but they're both the last of their kind, these lone guardians of these ancient magical gemstones. He's showing up under the pretense of training her, but you can tell it's nice for him to have a kindred spirit, someone who might be able to really get him.

And then Trip's like... wait, you think I'm the last of my kind?

Yes, the Northstar Islands have actually been inhabited by a whole civilization of sungazers like Trip the whole time! We just didn't see them in the game because, y'know. Eggman was attacking. So Trip told everyone to find shelter and hide from the Badniks. (This actually makes a lot of sense, since you pass by this very village in Speed Jungle Zone. Somebody's gotta maintain those straw roofs and light those torches, and I can't imagine Trip managing all that upkeep herself.)

This also includes a grandfather for Trip, who's been training her as the archipelago's new guardian. Naturally, this has led to some speculation from fans about the old "mandates." In the wake of the Penders lawsuits and Archie's reboot, Sega declared that the comics could no longer create comic-original relatives for the game characters. Has that changed now?

Well, I'm hesitant to read too much into this. For one, as Ian has tried to drill into peoples' heads for years now, the so-called "mandates" aren't a set of concrete commandments from Sega, they just have some general guidelines for the brand, some of which have more wiggle room than others and some of which have changed over time. There's also the simple fact that Sega is working way more closely with the team at IDW, and that people like Ian and Evan are literally on the official Sonic lore team now. Ian can presumably work with the lore team and Sega to figure out Trip's family, and then go and work what they've decided on into a comic, so it's entirely possible Trip's grandpa isn't considered a comic-original character so much as he's a character conceptualized at Sega who just happens to have appeared in an IDW comic before anything else. The lines are a lot blurrier now with all this cross-pollination, compared to the Archie days when it was a separate creative team and a separate canon.

But, again, I don't want to speculate too heavily about what goes on behind the scenes. Regardless, Ian was able to use this comic to expand upon the world of the games and the characters that inhabit it, and I love it for that. It's the first of these Classic comics that feels like truly mandatory reading for the way it builds upon the games. These days we so rarely get to see communities like this in the Sonic world with their own cultures. It's not like we know anything about "hedgehog culture" or whatever. So this is a nice change of pace. The Northstar Islands feel totally different now that I know they've actually been inhabited the whole time, and knowing that Trip is part of an active community with their own history and customs puts a whole new spin on her as a character.

It also makes her a great foil for Knuckles here. He showed up on the island thinking he'd have a lot to teach Trip as someone who's got more life experience as a lone guardian, only to realize his assumptions about her life were completely wrong. Trip brags to her grandpa that Knuckles is gonna train her, but he quickly realizes he doesn't have much to teach her. She may be kind of cowardly, but she knows her way around the island, she can think on her feet, and she can handle herself well enough in a fight, in her own slapstick way.

He doesn't say as much, but you can tell Knuckles is embarrassed about all this. This clumsy kid is showing him up, even though she won't even really listen to his advice! He's also, perhaps, a bit jealous. It's not like he had a grandfather to train him in the ways of being a guardian. (Not in this continuity, anyway.) He doesn't get a whole village of echidnas to teach him about his heritage. He doesn't get fancy ceremonial armor. It's just him, a big green rock, and his two fists. He thought he had this whole guardian thing figured out, and he'd be able to give a kindred spirit like Trip some advice, but it turns out she's lived a whole different life, making him question if he even knows what he's doing. He quickly gets fed up with both Trip and himself, blowing up at her a little.

After reflecting a bit, Knuckles goes back to Trip and comes clean. He doesn't really know how to train her, because no one ever trained him. He figured things out on his own. If he had anyone there to raise him, they've been gone since he was too young to remember. He just knows he has to protect the Master Emerald. That's it. It's a pretty vulnerable moment for Knuckles, one where his dissatisfaction with his life comes to the surface.

Still, Trip sees things differently. He may be used to the fact that he lives on a giant floating island powered by a giant magic emerald, but she thinks that's, like, the coolest thing in the world. HER islands don't fly! And while Knuckles might wish he had someone to train him, Trip thinks that Knuckles becoming such a fearsome fighter all on his own, without even armor to protect him, makes him super awesome and admirable. With both of them feeling better, Trip takes Knuckles to Golden Capital to talk about her heritage as a guardian of the Northstar Islands a bit more, and Knuckles tells her that he thinks she'll be a great guardian before he heads home, once again feeling pretty good about himself.

While this is a pretty straightforward little story about how the grass is always greener on the other side, it's a very effective and sweet one that I enjoyed reading a ton. Aside from the fun of learning more about Trip and the Northstar Islands, it's just a great showcase for Knuckles. (It's definitely a way better showcase for him than his Paramount+ show, as much as I took sick pleasure in that show's baffling creative decisions.) There are also some fun details about his life in here, such as the fact that Sonic, Tails, and Amy have taken camping trips to hang out with him on Angel Island, and the fact that he trained Amy in using her hammer better.

It's just real good, and it feels like the most meaningful addition to The Canon out of any of these Classic era comics Ian's written. We're still gonna be getting more in the future, so hopefully this is a sign that Ian and the lore team have found that happy middle ground where they can keep the Classic comics familiar and nostalgic while also being able to branch out and expand upon things.

Speaking of future comics!

Coming attractions

The end of this issue confirms some things that are in the works for IDW Sonic. For one, we're getting a Chaotix 30th Anniversary special next year. Neat! They also mention some kind of Shadow one-shot dropping following the movie, however fans seem split on whether this is referring to a new story or just the "Best of Shadow" compilation one-shot that's coming out next month. So don't get your hopes up about that in case it's the latter, I guess.

And while we're still waiting for issue #75 of the main series, the IDW team is already thinking all the way ahead to #100, which should drop sometime during the 35th anniversary of the franchise in 2026. Clearly the team's still confident about the longevity of IDW Sonic and excited for the future. And I am, too! Bring on #75!

#tkp post #IDW thoughts

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yourmomsawh0r3 · 2 months ago

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First of all i want to THANK YOU for writing for Marcello Hernandez!😩😍

I would like to request a smut for him!! Maybe one where him and reader are co stars or they have been friends for a while (you can decide!) and there has always been alot of sexual tension, constant flirting, ect. And one night they are hanging out and they can’t contain themselves any longer and they fully go at it and admit their feelings!!?? You can make it as dirty as you want (plz) 😜

i love this!! your wish is my command 🫶🏼✨

More than friends

pairing: marcello hernandez x f! reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+

You and Marcello had been friends for what felt like forever. Ever since those early days of struggling to break into the industry, auditioning at every opportunity, and scraping by on whatever you could afford, you’d had each other’s backs. He’d been your partner in crime for late-night rehearsals and spontaneous adventures, laughing his way through awkward moments and celebrating every win, big or small. There was something undeniably special between you, an ease and chemistry that everyone seemed to notice even if you both stubbornly ignored it. Every time he looked at you with that smirk, brushed your hand a bit too long, or made a joke that danced on the line between teasing and flirtation, you’d pretend it didn’t make your heart race.

When the two of you finally landed roles on the same show, it felt like fate had pushed you even closer. Your friendship quickly evolved into constant on-set banter, inside jokes, and long evenings spent running lines over takeout dinners. But lately, things had shifted. Marcello’s looks lingered, his touches felt heavier, and the tension that had always been there was now impossible to ignore. He’d laugh about it, make a playful comment when he caught you staring, but you could tell there was something deeper behind his words.

Tonight, the two of you were decompressing at your place after a long week. Marcello had brought over a bottle of wine, and you’d picked up a pile of wings from your favorite local spot. It was like every other night—yet completely different. From the moment you poured the wine, the unspoken attraction between you simmered under the surface, adding weight to every glance and touch.

After a few glasses, you were both feeling tipsy and a bit bolder, laughing at each other’s jokes louder, leaning a little closer. Marcello’s arm rested along the back of the couch, his fingers lightly grazing your shoulder. You leaned back into him, letting yourself enjoy the warmth of his arm around you, wondering if tonight might finally be the night that all that tension boiled over.

Marcello grinned at you, his eyes dark with something playful, something dangerous. “You know,” he said, voice low, “I think we’re probably the most convincing fake couple on TV. Don’t you think?”

You laughed, brushing off the heat that rose to your cheeks. “Well, maybe it’s because I’m such a good actress.”

“Maybe,” he replied, leaning in until his face was inches from yours, “or maybe it’s because you make it so easy to pretend.” His voice softened, and his gaze lingered on your lips, his words hanging in the air.

The laughter faded as you locked eyes, the space between you shrinking. “Marcello… I think we’ve been pretending for way too long,” you whispered, the truth slipping out before you could stop it.

His hand slid up to cup your face, thumb grazing over your cheek, his touch warm and electric. “What if we stop pretending?” he murmured, his voice rough.

Without waiting for an answer, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and intense, like he’d been holding himself back for years. His other hand moved to your waist, pulling you against him, and you felt every inch of his body pressed against yours. The wine and the years of unspoken feelings blurred everything else as the kiss deepened, turning urgent and needy.

Between breaths, you whispered, “Marcello… we’ve waited long enough.”

That was all it took. He scooped you up, guiding you back toward the couch, his hands exploring as if he were afraid to waste another moment. The heat between you was intoxicating, fueled by the wine and the feeling of finally letting go. His lips traced a path down your neck, his touch igniting every part of you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he pressed you into the couch, both of you lost in the moment you’d been waiting for.

In the early hours of the morning, as you lay tangled in each other’s arms, Marcello ran his fingers through your hair, his face softening with a look you’d never seen before. “I don’t want this to be just tonight,” he whispered, voice still thick with emotion. “I want us… for real.”

A smile spread across your lips, and you reached up, brushing a hand along his jaw. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

As the wine settled warmly between you, the banter that had once felt light-hearted became increasingly intense. You and Marcello were leaning into each other on the couch, laughter giving way to long, heated glances and lingering touches. Your hand rested on his thigh, your fingers tracing small circles there, and his gaze flickered down, darkening.

Without another word, he closed the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was instantly deep, heated, and overwhelming. His hands were everywhere, moving from your waist to your hips, pulling you into him as you let yourself melt against his body, years of tension breaking free in a moment. His fingers brushed up your back, sending shivers through you as he pulled you onto his lap, his mouth never leaving yours.

Your legs straddled his hips as his hands slipped under your shirt, fingertips grazing your skin with a touch that was both rough and tender. “God, I’ve been wanting this for so long,” he whispered against your lips, his voice low and filled with need. His mouth moved to your neck, kissing and biting gently, making you gasp as he left a trail of heat along your skin.

You tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head, your hands roaming over the warm skin of his shoulders and chest. You could feel his heartbeat under your fingers, fast and steady as his hands slipped under your own shirt, pulling it off in one smooth motion. He paused, taking you in, his eyes filled with admiration and desire that made your cheeks flush.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he murmured, his hands cupping your face before trailing down, fingers grazing your skin, igniting every inch they touched.

You leaned in, capturing his mouth with yours, your kisses growing more feverish as your bodies pressed together. Marcello’s hands moved to your hips, lifting you slightly as he leaned you back against the couch, his body settling above you. His hands slid down, hooking into the waistband of your pants, and he looked up, seeking permission in his eyes.

Breathless, you nodded, your heart racing as he slowly tugged them down, his hands exploring every inch of bare skin as he went. The intensity of his gaze made you feel like you were the only person in the world, his touch leaving a trail of heat that made you shiver.

He paused, his eyes raking over you with a hunger that made your pulse quicken. “I don’t think I can hold back anymore,” he admitted, his voice rough.

“Then don’t,” you whispered, your hands pulling him closer, desperate to feel him, to be closer to him than ever before. Marcello’s lips were on you again, moving down your body in a series of slow, lingering kisses. Every brush of his mouth felt deliberate, as though he wanted to memorize every inch of you.

Marcello's touch was electric as his hands glided down your body, fingertips tracing every curve. You trembled with anticipation, aching to feel his mouth on you. Slowly, deliberately, he sank to his knees, his eyes locked with yours, dark with desire.

Your breath hitched as his lips brushed against the delicate skin of your inner thighs, his tongue darting out to taste you. A low groan escaped him, vibrating against your flesh. "You taste so sweet," he murmured, the words sending a shiver through you.

Without warning, his mouth closed over your most sensitive spot, his tongue swirling and lapping, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. You cried out, fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to you as he worked relentlessly, every stroke of his tongue pulling you closer to the edge.

The noises you made only spurred him on, his enthusiasm matching your own growing need. He hummed against you, the vibrations making your hips buck, chasing the sensation. Marcello's hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he licked and sucked, lapping up every drop of your arousal.

"Marcello, please," you gasped, your voice ragged with want. "I need you."

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and hooded. "Not yet," he growled, diving back in, his tongue delving deep, his fingers joining the onslaught of sensation.

You cried out, your body tightening with the approaching wave of ecstasy. Marcello kept up his relentless pace, his touch firm and unyielding, until finally, you shattered, your orgasm washing over you in crashing waves.

Marcello kept his mouth on you, gentling his movements as you came down from your high. Slowly, he pulled away, his lips glistening with your arousal. He gazed up at you, eyes hooded and dark with desire.

"Magnificent," he murmured, his voice low and ragged. He rose to his feet, crowding into your space, his large frame towering over you. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your swollen lips. "I want to savor every inch of you."

His mouth crashed down on yours, the kiss fierce and possessive. You melted into him, clutching at his shoulders as his tongue swept into your mouth. A needy whimper escaped you, and Marcello growled in response, pulling you flush against him.

His hands skimmed down your sides, grip bruising as he palmed your backside, grinding his hips against yours. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your belly, and the knowledge that he wanted you so desperately sent a thrill through you.

Panting, he tore his mouth from yours, dragging his lips along your jaw to nip at your earlobe he moans in your ear.

Marcello's eyes darkened with barely restrained desire as he gazed down at you. With agonizing slowness, he positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his throbbing length teasing your slick folds.

"You feel so good, y/n," he breathed, his voice thick with want. Inch by agonizing inch, he pushed forward, stretching and filling you until he was buried to the hilt. A shuddering gasp escaped you at the delicious sensation of being so completely joined.

But just as quickly, he began to withdraw, eliciting a desperate whine from you. "Marc,please..." you begged, hips canting upwards, seeking to keep him inside.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Patience, my love," he purred, the words barely audible as he surged forward again, hilting himself with a sharp snap of his hips.

You cried out, nails digging into his back as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you. Marcello set a maddening pace, pulling out until just the tip remained, then driving back in with bruising force.

The bed creaked beneath you, the only sound besides your ragged gasps and his guttural groans. He possessed you completely, claiming every inch of your body as his own. And you welcomed it, reveling in the intoxicating feel of him moving inside you.

"Marcello!" you keened, the coil of pleasure tightening with every thrust. He swallowed your cries with a hungry kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth in time with the snap of his hips marcello cums inside you.

Afterward, as you lay tangled together, breathing in sync, Marcello brushed a strand of hair from your face, his gaze soft and vulnerable. He kissed you gently, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your cheek as he whispered, “I don’t want this to ever end.”

You smiled, pulling him close again, knowing that after all these years, you’d finally found what you’d both been searching for.

PART 2: https://www.tumblr.com/yourmomsawh0r3/769089978375536641/night-out

#marcello hernandez x f reader #marcello hernandez x you #marcello hernandez fanfiction #marcello hernandez x reader #marcello hernandez #snl fanfiction

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rootedinrevisions · 4 months ago

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Between Sets and Scenes

SUMMARY: As a dedicated personal trainer in Washington D.C., you've worked with high-profile clients before, but when actor Glen Powell steps into your gym, life takes an unexpected turn. What starts as a simple fitness transformation for Glen quickly evolves into something more when the lines between professionalism and attraction begin to blur. A chance encounter outside the gym leads to late-night conversations, unexpected connections, and the realization that sometimes the best chemistry happens off-screen. But with Glen's rising star and your grounded life, can you keep things casual, or is something deeper already taking shape?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! I hope you enjoy it!

WARNINGS: None.

WORD COUNT: 5.8K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The familiar ping of your inbox echoed through your office as you finished typing up a nutrition plan for one of your long-term clients. Leaning back in your chair, you took a sip of your water, already mentally preparing yourself for the evening rush at the gym. It was mid-spring, the time of year when everyone suddenly remembered they had vacations or summer plans that required them to get into shape. Your calendar was filling up fast, but you thrived in the chaos.

As you clicked through your unread emails, one subject line caught your eye.

Transfer Client: Glen Powell – Ultimate Performance, Los Angeles.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. Glen Powell? As in the Glen Powell—actor, movie star, all-around charmer? You quickly opened the email, skimming through the details.

Eddie here, from the L.A. branch. We’ve got a transfer for you—our client, Glen Powell. He’s been working with us for a while, getting in shape for a bunch of his previous roles. Glen’s a solid guy, no diva attitude, but he’s wrapping up filming in D.C. and needs a few weeks of training before his next project. Figured you’d be the best person for the job.

I’ve attached his info and previous programs. Let me know if you need anything else, but honestly, Glen’s a hard worker. You shouldn’t have any problems.

Just, uh, maybe keep an eye on the tequila intake.

Cheers,Eddie

You chuckled at the tequila comment but focused on the rest of the email. This was definitely an unexpected assignment, but you were more intrigued than overwhelmed. A high-profile client like Glen meant there was a level of professionalism and discretion required, but you had handled demanding clients before. Glen Powell would be no different… right?

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it might be worth getting a bit more insight from Eddie before you met with Glen. He’d worked with Glen before and could offer valuable information that a few attached files couldn’t convey. You reached for your phone, quickly dialing Eddie's number. After a couple of rings, the line connected, and Eddie’s laid-back demeanor and accent came through.

“Hey! I had a feeling you’d call.”

You laughed softly, leaning back in your chair. “I couldn’t resist. Glen Powell, huh? Big name. I wanted to get some inside scoop on him before I officially start working with him.”

“Totally understandable,” Eddie replied. “Glen’s honestly one of the easiest clients we’ve had. No diva behavior, no slacking off. He shows up, puts in the work, and follows the plan.”

“That’s good to hear,” you said, relieved. “Anything in particular I should keep an eye out for? You mentioned the tequila?”

Eddie chuckled on the other end of the line. “Yeah, man loves his tequila. It’s the only food from our restricted list he really ever eats. He’s not gonna go overboard, but just be aware that he likes to unwind with a drink now and then. He’s been keeping up with his workouts since our last session, so he’s not starting from scratch.”

“So he’s already in pretty good shape?”

“Definitely,” Eddie confirmed. “He looks great, but he’s looking to tighten up for this rom-com he’s shooting soon. Wants to get that beach body look, you know? He’s got a few areas he wants to tone up, but overall, you’re just fine-tuning.”

You made a few notes as Eddie spoke, already thinking of some adjustments you could make to Glen’s program to push him toward his goals. “Got it. Anything else I should know about his routine?”

“He sticks to his meal plans pretty well. I mean, the guy’s a professional at this point. You’ll probably notice he doesn’t need a lot of hand-holding. But don’t be afraid to push him—he responds well to a challenge.”

You nodded, appreciating the insight. “Thanks, Eddie. I’m excited to get started with him.”

“You’ll do great. Just keep it fun, keep him motivated, and I’m sure you two will get along fine.”

After wrapping up the call with Eddie, you hung up and set your phone down, staring at Glen’s profile on your screen. This wasn’t just a regular client. This was Glen Powell—known for his charm, his dedication to his craft, and apparently, his love for tequila.

With a deep breath, you stood up and stretched. Time to prepare for tomorrow, when you’d officially meet your new high-profile client. You had a feeling this wouldn’t be your typical training session, but you were ready to rise to the challenge.

A week had passed since your conversation with Eddie, and you’d spent the time crafting the perfect workout plan for Glen. He didn’t need a complete overhaul, just some fine-tuning to get him into peak shape for his upcoming role.

Now, sitting at the front desk of the gym, you were watching the clock, knowing Glen would be arriving any minute.

The gym was quieter than usual—late morning hours had a way of lulling the space into a calm before the after-work crowd flooded in. You glanced over at the door, almost on instinct, when the bell chimed. And there he was.

Glen Powell.

He strolled in with that signature effortless charm, his stride confident but relaxed. His black t-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders, and his black athletic shorts showed off his toned legs. A baseball cap turned backward, completed the look. Even with his casual attire, he had an undeniable presence.

You stood up from the desk, offering him a smile. “You must be Glen.”

His grin matched yours as he walked up to you, extending a hand. “That’s me. And you must be [Your Name], right?”

You nodded, shaking his hand. His grip was firm, and warm—just as you’d expected. “That’s right. Good to meet you in person.”

“Likewise,” he said, his eyes scanning the gym behind you for a moment before settling back on you. “Eddie’s told me great things about you.”

“Oh, did he?” you laughed softly, appreciating the compliment. “He said some pretty good things about you too.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head with a mock-serious look. “Well, I hope I live up to the hype.”

“I’m sure you will,” you replied, motioning toward the gym’s main floor. “Ready to get started?”

His smile widened, and he adjusted the strap of the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “Absolutely. Let’s do this.”

You led him toward a quieter corner of the gym where you had the session planned out. “So, Eddie filled me in on what you’ve been up to, but I’d like to hear from you. What’s your goal for these next few weeks?”

As Glen set his bag down, he glanced around at the equipment before turning his focus back to you. “I’ve been trying to keep up with my workouts, but this next role has a lot of, uh... shirtless scenes.” He laughed lightly, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone. “I want to lean out a bit more, just tighten everything up.”

You nodded, pulling up his customized workout plan on your tablet. “I’ve got just the thing for you. We’ll be focusing on toning your core, arms, and legs—nothing too extreme, but enough to get you where you need to be before filming starts.”

Glen leaned over slightly to glance at the plan, nodding in approval. “Looks good. You’ve got me doing some heavy lifts, huh?”

You smiled, sensing his enthusiasm. “I do. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure to push you without burning you out.”

He chuckled, clearly ready to dive in, but before you moved toward the weights, you stopped him with a quick smile. “Before we get started, though, I need to take some baseline measurements.”

Glen raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “Measurements?”

You nodded, setting the tablet down. “Yeah, just so I can document your progress over the next four weeks. It'll help us both see how far you’ve come when you’re a couple weeks in, especially if you’re aiming to get more toned.”

“Fair enough,” Glen said, stepping back as you grabbed a tape measure from your desk. “You’re the boss.”

He stood still, arms slightly raised as you started taking the first measurement around his chest. You worked quickly, not making it awkward, but there was no denying the closeness as you measured his biceps next.

“Okay, now your waist,” you said, dropping to one knee to wrap the tape measure around his torso.

Glen chuckled lightly, the sound relaxed. “This part’s always the most nerve-wracking, isn’t it?”

You laughed softly in return. “It’s not that bad. Besides, you’re already in great shape. This is just to see how much progress you make in the next few weeks.”

“You say that now,” he joked, but the smile he flashed was playful, clearly at ease with the process.

After finishing his waist measurement, you stepped back and jotted down the numbers. “All set. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Glen shook his head, still smiling. “I’ve survived worse.”

“Well, I’ll be making sure to push you just enough to keep it interesting.” You gave him a grin as you set aside the tape measure and picked up your tablet again, ready to log the details. “Alright, now we’re ready. Let’s get started.”

As you both headed toward the weights area, you couldn’t help but notice the ease with which Glen navigated the gym. He wasn’t just a celebrity going through the motions—he was here to work. And something about his grounded, no-nonsense attitude put you at ease, too.

“So,” Glen said, stretching out his arms before reaching for a dumbbell, “how long have you been with Ultimate Performance?”

“About five years now. I started as an intern after getting my degree in sports science, then worked my way up. Now I’m doing personal training full-time.”

“Five years,” he said with a nod, looking impressed. “That’s awesome. I’ve only heard good things about this place.”

“Glad to hear it,” you replied, as you both moved through the warm-up. “And since we’re talking about that—Eddie warned me about your... tequila habits.”

Glen laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Ah, yeah. Guilty. But I promise to keep it in check.”

“Good to know,” you said, smiling as you moved into the first set of exercises. “As long as you put in the work like Eddie says you do, I’ll let you have a cheat day here and there.”

His grin didn’t falter, but his focus shifted, now locked in as he began his first round of squats. You observed his form, making minor adjustments here and there, impressed by his natural athleticism.

It wasn’t long before the playful back-and-forth gave way to the steady rhythm of the workout, Glen pushing himself with the same dedication Eddie had spoken so highly of.

By the time you moved to the free weights, his shirt was damp with sweat, but he never complained or asked to slow down. Glen had a drive that reminded you why you loved working with serious clients—it wasn’t just about the physical change. It was the discipline, the effort, the focus. And Glen had all of that.

By the time you got to the final set of exercises, Glen was visibly feeling the burn. His breathing had picked up, and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. You couldn't help but admire how hard he was working, despite the intensity.

As Glen set the weights down after his last set of deadlifts, he straightened up and wiped his brow with the back of his hand, flashing you a tired but amused smile. “You weren’t kidding about this workout plan. You sure you’re not taking it easy on me?”

You laughed softly, meeting his gaze. “Taking it easy doesn’t get results.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head as he caught his breath. “Guess I can’t argue with that logic.” He placed his hands on his hips, still winded but clearly impressed. “I’ll be feeling this tomorrow, won’t I?”

“Probably,” you admitted with a grin. “But that just means you’re making progress. A little soreness is good—it’s how you know your muscles are working.”

“Good to know,” Glen replied with a smirk. “I’ll remind myself of that when I can’t walk tomorrow.”

You shook your head, amused by his playful banter. “You’ll be fine. We’ll take it day by day, and by the end of this, you’ll be in even better shape than you were before.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Better than before, huh?”

You shrugged confidently. “That’s the goal.”

Glen flashed you a grin, wiping down the equipment as he finished cooling down. “Alright then, Coach. I’ll trust you to get me there.”

* * * *

It was one of those weekends where you finally had a moment to breathe. You’d been pushing through long days at the gym, so a girls' night out was exactly what you needed. The bar was buzzing with energy—packed enough to feel lively but not too crowded. You sipped your drink, laughing with your friends as the music pulsed in the background.

A larger group walked in, but you barely glanced their way, too caught up in the conversation at your table. Washington D.C. was always filled with all types, so it wasn’t unusual for new faces to pass through. But after a while, you noticed your friends exchanging glances, their eyes darting toward the bar.

“What?” you asked, curious about what had captured their attention.

Your friend leaned closer, her voice barely a whisper as she nodded toward the bar. “Isn’t that...?”

You turned your head, following their gaze—and there he was. Glen Powell. Standing at the bar, his familiar smile in place as he chatted with the bartender. He looked effortlessly casual, wearing a simple grey t-shirt and dark jeans, blending in with the crowd in a way only someone like him could. He seemed completely relaxed, enjoying his night off with a group of friends or maybe coworkers, a drink in hand.

Your heart skipped for a moment, but you quickly dismissed the thought. He was a client, nothing more. It wasn’t unusual for him to be out, enjoying himself. You took a sip of your drink, willing yourself not to think too much about it.

But as the night went on, you found your drink dwindling, and you knew you’d need a refill soon. “I’m gonna grab another drink,” you said to your friends, sliding out of the booth.

As you approached the bar, you felt the press of the crowd around you. You waved at the bartender, but before you could place your order, you heard a voice behind you.

“Should I be worried about my trainer drinking on a weekend?”

You turned, and there was Glen, standing beside you with a teasing smile. His eyes were bright with amusement, and the corner of his mouth tugged into a grin that you couldn’t help but mirror.

You raised your glass in a playful toast. “I’m off-duty,” you said with a smirk. “Besides, I’m not the one who needs to watch their tequila intake, remember?”

Glen laughed, leaning slightly closer as if the conversation was just between the two of you. “You caught me.” He glanced at the glass in his hand and then back at you. “I’ll take it easy. Don’t want you to give me a lecture at the gym on Monday.”

You chuckled, taking a sip of your drink. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

“Nah,” he replied, his voice warm. “But you don’t go easy on me, that’s for sure.” He glanced down at your glass. “Looks like you’re due for a refill though. Mind if I grab that one for you?”

It was an offer so casual, so easy, that for a second you almost forgot the circumstances—he was your client, after all. But his tone was friendly, his expression open and relaxed, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Only if it’s not tequila,” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him with a playful grin.

He laughed again, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “Deal. I’ll stick to something that won’t get me in trouble with my trainer.”

You smiled, and before you could even protest, Glen signaled the bartender. “Another for her, and I’ll take one too,” he said, his voice smooth but casual, as though he wasn’t really paying for your drink but just sharing in a moment.

The bartender moved efficiently, and within seconds, two fresh glasses were placed in front of you. You picked up yours, the coolness of the glass meeting your hand as you glanced up at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged, that easy grin still in place. “I figured it might soften the blow when you destroy me in the gym next week.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, so you’re buttering me up now?”

“Is it working?”

The way he said it, with just the right mix of playfulness and charm, had you smiling despite yourself. He wasn’t being pushy, wasn’t crossing any lines—just having fun with the moment.

You took a sip of your drink, the cool liquid refreshing after the heat of the crowded bar. “I’m still going to push you hard on Monday, just so you know.”

“Good,” he replied, leaning in slightly, his voice lowering just enough to feel like a secret between the two of you. “Taking it easy doesn’t get results, right?”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his words, recognizing your own mantra being thrown back at you. “Exactly.”

For a moment, the noise of the bar seemed to fade into the background as you stood there with Glen, the conversation flowing easily, as if you were just two people sharing a drink rather than client and trainer.

“So, is this your usual spot?” Glen asked, leaning an elbow on the bar as he turned his full attention to you.

“Not really,” you admitted. “It’s more of an impromptu girls' night kind of thing. What about you? Out with friends?”

“Yeah, wrapping up a long week of filming,” he said, motioning toward the group in the back. “Figured we’d blow off some steam before the craziness starts up again next week.”

You nodded, understanding. “Well, you deserve it. Just don’t go overboard. I don’t want to have to kick your ass on Monday for drinking too much.”

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’ll try to keep it under control, but no promises.”

“Noted,” you said with a smirk, the comfortable rhythm of the conversation settling between you both. There was something almost effortless about it—just enough teasing to keep it fun, but not too much to cross the line into anything more than friendly banter.

Still, as you stood there at the bar with Glen, the energy around you shifting just slightly, it was hard to ignore the way your heart raced just a little faster. You quickly pushed the thought away. He was your client, after all. This was just a chance encounter on a Saturday night—nothing more.

“Anyway,” Glen said after a moment, glancing at your now-refilled drink, “I better get back to the group. But don’t worry, I’ll be ready for whatever workout you throw at me on Monday.”

You raised your glass in a lighthearted toast. “You’d better be.”

With a final smile, Glen gave you a nod and made his way back to his friends, leaving you standing at the bar, a faint smile lingering on your lips as you watched him walk away.

You made your way back to the booth where your friends were sitting, trying to act like your quick conversation at the bar hadn’t just sent a small thrill through your chest. As soon as you sat down, though, you realized there was no hiding anything from them. Their eyes were all wide, gleaming with curiosity, and they immediately leaned in.

“Okay, spill,” one of your friends demanded, barely able to contain her excitement. “What was that?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “What do you mean?”

Another friend nudged your arm playfully. “Don’t act like you don’t know! That was Glen Powell, wasn’t it?”

You blinked, then gave a slow nod, not quite ready for the tidal wave of questions that was sure to follow. “Yeah… that was Glen.”

Their jaws practically dropped in unison.

“Oh my God,” One of them breathed. “You’re telling me you’ve been casually talking to Glen Powell at the bar this whole time you’ve been gone?”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” you replied quickly, trying to wave off the moment as you took a sip of your drink. “We just ran into each other, that’s all.”

One of their eyes narrowed as she leaned in even closer. “Wait a minute. Didn’t you mention a ‘high-profile client’ a couple of weeks ago? Are you telling me Glen Powell is the guy you’ve been working with at the gym?”

You sighed, knowing there was no getting around it now. “Okay, yes. I’ve been working with him for a couple of weeks. But seriously, it’s nothing. Just professional.”

Their eyes nearly bulged out of their heads as they processed that revelation.

“He’s your client?” One of them echoed in disbelief. “How did you not tell us it was him?”

You gave a half-shrug, trying to play it cool. “I mean, I couldn’t exactly name-drop him. It’s a work thing, you know? Confidentiality and all that.”

“Oh, please,” one of them said with a wave of her hand. “You’re too modest. Glen Powell is out there starring in movies, and you’ve been working with him to get him in shape? That’s insane.”

“It’s really not that crazy,” you insisted, feeling your cheeks warm under their eager stares. “He’s just another client.”

“Just another client?” Another one repeated incredulously. “I’m sorry, but you can’t tell me that conversation at the bar wasn’t flirty. He was totally into you.”

You laughed, shaking your head again. “It wasn’t flirting. We were just joking around. If anything, I was warning him about his workout on Monday after all that tequila he’s probably going to drink tonight.”

One of your friends leaned back with a knowing smile. “Oh, come on. He totally offered to buy your drink, didn’t he?”

You hesitated for a moment, then gave a sheepish nod. “Yeah… he did. But it wasn’t a big deal! He was just being nice.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Nice? Or maybe a little flirty?”

You sighed, trying to downplay it. “It wasn’t like that. He was just joking around. Honestly, we talked more about his workout plan than anything else.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, her tone teasing. “I’m sure it was all about the workout plan.”

You could feel their eyes on you, the playful smiles they exchanged as they leaned in with the kind of curiosity only good friends could get away with.

“Seriously,” you insisted, though your grin betrayed you. “He’s a client. It’s not like that.”

Your friends weren’t convinced. “Well, it sure looked like something to me. The way he was talking to you at the bar? He didn’t look like he was thinking about squats and deadlifts, that’s for sure.”

Another one chimed in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Yeah, and that whole ‘watch your tequila intake’ thing? That was prime trainer-to-client flirting material.”

You laughed again, leaning back in your seat as the teasing continued. “It wasn’t flirting,” you repeated, though their playful accusations were starting to wear down your defenses.

“Right,” one of the girls said with a wink. “Well, even if it wasn’t, he clearly likes talking to you. So maybe that’s a sign of something.”

One of the others nodded, her expression turning a bit more serious. “Hey, we’re just saying—if something does happen, you have our full support.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of their friendship settle around you. “Thanks, but really, it’s all professional. I’m not looking for anything more.”

One of the girls raised her glass in a toast. “To keeping it professional… but maybe hoping for a little fun along the way.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you clinked glasses with her. “I’ll drink to that.”

As you took a sip, though, your thoughts wandered back to the easy conversation you’d had with Glen at the bar. Sure, it was just work—just a client interaction—but there had been something undeniably lighthearted, something that had left you smiling long after he’d walked away.

As the night went on, you found yourself stealing glances at Glen from your spot at the booth, the laughter of your friends fading into the background. You couldn’t help but notice the easy charm he exuded, even as he joked with his friends at the bar. It was hard not to smile every time you thought about your previous conversations. The playful banter between you two had definitely sparked something beyond a simple trainer-client dynamic.

After a while, you decided to venture back to the bar for another drink, this time determined to keep the mood light. As you approached, Glen noticed you immediately, his face breaking into a grin.

“Hey! Look who it is,” he called out, leaning against the bar with a casual confidence. “Back for another?”

You chuckled, leaning against the bar beside him. “What can I say? You have to stay hydrated, right?”

He laughed a warm sound that made you feel more at ease. “True. So, what’s your game plan for the weekend?”

“Honestly? Just a girls' night tonight. You know, drinks, gossip—typical stuff,” you said, your gaze lingering on him as you took a sip of your drink.

He raised an eyebrow. “Sounds fun. Any exciting plans with the girls?”

You shrugged. “Nothing too crazy. Just catching up. What about you? Any plans for the weekend?”

Glen leaned closer, lowering his voice slightly. “I was thinking of having a quiet night, maybe get some takeout on the way home. But who knows? My plans could change.”

You smirked, noticing the suggestive undertone in his words. “Oh? What kind of changes do you have in mind?”

He met your gaze, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Well, I could be convinced to do something more… interesting if the right company showed up.”

You felt a warmth spread through you, caught off guard by the implication behind his words. “Interesting? Like what?”

“Maybe a movie night? You know, two people just relaxing and enjoying some downtime,” he suggested, his tone playful yet serious.

“Sounds tempting,” you replied, your heart racing a little faster at the thought. “What kind of movies do you like?”

“Rom-coms, obviously,” he said with a wink. “I’m an actor, after all. Gotta stay on brand.”

You laughed, but then the conversation shifted. “So… any significant others I should know about?” you asked, genuinely curious.

He shook his head, his expression turning thoughtful. “Nope, just me. I’ve been focusing on work mostly.”

“Same here,” you admitted. “I’m single, too. Just haven’t had the time to meet anyone.”

“Funny how that works,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you. “Two busy people, both single.”

There was a charged silence between you as you both processed the moment, the playful tension hanging in the air. Glen shifted slightly closer, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “You know, it’s refreshing to meet someone who gets it. Not many people can understand the kind of schedule I keep.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. “Yeah, I'm sure it can be tough.”

“Maybe we should change that,” he suggested, his voice lower now. “Have some more ‘interesting’ nights.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart racing at the unspoken invitation. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

Just then, as the night began to wind down, you glanced at your phone to check the time. “Wow, it’s getting late. I didn’t realize how much time had passed.”

“Yeah, it sneaks up on you,” he said, glancing around. “Are you getting an Uber home?”

You nodded, a hint of reluctance creeping in. “Yeah, I should probably call one.”

Glen frowned slightly, then offered, “Let me give you a ride home. I don’t want you waiting out here for an Uber.”

You hesitated, your mind racing. It was tempting, but you couldn’t shake the professional boundaries. “Are you sure? I don’t want to put you out.”

“Not at all,” he insisted, his smile warm and inviting. “I insist. Plus, it’ll give us more time to chat. And, you know, I can promise not to make you do any burpees in the car.”

You laughed, the tension from earlier dissipating. “Okay, if you insist.”

As you both walked outside, the warm spring air wrapped around you. Glen kept the conversation light as you walked to his car, and you found yourself enjoying his company even more. Once you were inside, he turned to you, the playful atmosphere returning.

“So, how bad my pis my punishment going to be on Monday for the drinks I had tonight?” He asked, his gaze locking onto yours.

You smirked, leaning in a little closer. “I might just add some extra reps to your routine.”

His smile widened, and suddenly the air felt charged again. You could feel the intensity building between you, the chemistry undeniable.

“Bring it on,” he replied, his voice dropping lower. “I can handle it.”

And before you knew it, the space between you disappeared. Glen leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a soft yet electrifying kiss.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, you realized you’d crossed a line, but it felt exhilarating. You were no longer just trainer and client; you were something else entirely.

“Wow,” you breathed, your heart racing.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Wow, indeed.”

As Glen pulled out of the bar's parking lot, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling in your stomach. The city lights blurred past the windows, and you glanced over at him, catching his eyes focused on the road, a slight smile playing on his lips.

When you arrived at your apartment, you hesitated for just a moment before inviting him in. “Do you want to come in? I mean, if you’re still up for that movie?”

“I’d love to,” he replied, stepping out of the car and following you inside.

Once inside, you hung up your coats and motioned for him to take a seat on the couch. You headed to the kitchen, grabbing a couple of drinks before settling next to him. Glen watched you with that familiar warmth in his gaze, and it made your heart flutter.

“Okay, I’ll let you pick the movie,” you said, scrolling through your options.

“Let’s go classic,” he suggested, pointing at How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. “This one is always a good time.”

You chuckled. “Good choice. It’s one of my favorites.”

As the movie started, you both settled into the couch, the initial awkwardness fading into the cozy atmosphere. Glen’s arm rested casually on the back of the couch, and you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, enjoying the easy banter that flowed between you.

About halfway through the film, you felt his arm move, sliding down to your shoulder as he gently pulled you into his side. A warmth spread through you at the gesture, and you smiled, leaning into him comfortably.

“Is this okay?” he asked, looking down at you with those charming eyes.

You nodded, unable to suppress your grin. “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

“Good,” he said, a hint of relief in his voice. “I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“I am,” you replied softly, feeling the connection between you deepening. You could feel his heartbeat against you, steady and reassuring, and the atmosphere felt charged with a sweet kind of intimacy.

As the movie continued, you caught yourself glancing up at him, noticing how he focused intently on the screen, yet you could sense he was aware of you too. Every so often, your shoulders brushed, sending little sparks of electricity between you.

“Have you seen this before?” he asked, his gaze still on the movie.

“A million times,” you laughed. “It’s one of those movies I can watch on repeat and never get tired of.”

He smiled, looking down at you. “It’s one of my favorites too…Kind of like the person watching it.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his compliment, a light flutter of nerves dancing in your stomach. “You’re smooth, aren’t you?”

“Only when the situation calls for it,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

The film played on, but the focus began to shift more towards each other. You felt the tension build in the small moments, the lingering touches, and the way his gaze lingered on you. It was as if the lines between work and pleasure had blurred completely, and you were both caught up in something new and thrilling.

With the credits rolling, Glen turned to you, the air between you electric. “So, what do you think? Think I can pull off this upcoming Rom-Com role after watching one?”

You laughed, your heart racing. “I think you’ve got the charm down already. Just maybe don’t take any advice from this movie for your actual dating life.”

“Noted,” he replied, his voice dropping slightly. “You know maybe I need a few more rom-com movie nights to fully prepare for this role.”

“I might know someone who could help you with that,” you said, your pulse quickening as you realized how much you wanted to spend more time with him.

He leaned in slightly, his expression softening. “You know, I really enjoy spending time with you outside the gym.”

“Me too,” you admitted, the vulnerability of the moment wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

Before you could think it through, you leaned in closer, feeling the magnetic pull between you. And just like that, he was closing the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, tentative kiss.

It felt like the world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you, lost in the moment. When you pulled away, breathless, you realized this was more than just a client relationship; it was the start of something new, something exciting.

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction

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risuola · 5 months ago

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈 ⋯ heaven lost its most beautful angel.

contents ✤ archangel!satoru x demon!reader, smut (nipple play, oral, maybe a tad bit borderline dubcon-ish?, corruption, some dirty talk), a lot of religious topics mentioned (not always in the best light), wc. 4639 ⋯ reader discretion is advised series masterlist

Born from pure nothing, Satoru has only got to know happiness. An illusion of it, a sort of safety that comes with stability in life. And it is good. He is, after all, the honored one, an archangel, the highest prince of Heaven, standing by the side of the king — God, a father of every creation, his father. Blessed by His favor, throughout centuries of existence, Satoru has only ever experienced bliss. Despite him being the last one created, the youngest of a bunch of archangels, he is the most perfect display of what God is capable of. A favorite, the purest and most innocent, a pristine mirror of excellence that could have only been made by a hand of his beloved father.

It’s beautiful, it really is. People worship divinities, the faith is blind and the angel has never had to do much to enforce the proper beliefs whenever there was a doubt born. With his role to serve God’s purpose and fulfill His will, Satoru traveled and shown up in many places in the world, making sure the evolvement of humanity goes along the lines of the greater plan. Of something a simple human isn’t capable of comprehending. But it’s endearing, he thinks.

He watches it from above, his eyes able to engulf all of the crowd — he has always had good eyes. Throughout the hundreds of years since his creation, he’s got to witness the ups and downs of people’s development and with ease on his mind he just knows that no matter what times bring and take, the faith will stay rooted into the simple mortal minds. Or so he thought before the balance of the world shifted again.

Demons and devils have never been a foreign topic in the spectrum of religion — they’re a part of what makes the good feel good, they’re what’s bad and ugly. Popping here and there from time to time they usually made for a short entertainment for Mikael’s army and Satoru remembers just few of severe conflicts that took place on earth and one that happened at the gates of Heaven. Great losses were suffered at the times, his brothers and sisters that had lost the fights will always stay in his memory, but with the progression of time, the rate of haunts and possessions didn’t go much higher. Satoru actively makes sure to eradicate every doubt that blooms in poor little hearts of the gullible and vulnerable.

“Filthy creatures,” Azrael grumbles, his voice dry and harsh as he watches alongside Satoru yet another crowd of humans that carelessly stray from the right path and into the world of sin. “Their pathetic souls are yet to cry at the gates and plead for mercy when it’s their own choices that bring them down to hells. It should be easier for them to resist such primitive urges.”

“Father has made them the way they are for a reason, brother,” the white-haired one lightens up but the angel of death beside shows no change of attitude. “Faith is a choice and not a given but even if it’s only in the face of demise, every soul that has found God at some point deserves to be blessed.”

“Sometimes it seems as if watching them for so many centuries has rubbed their naivety across your feathers, Satoru,” Azrael lets out a sigh and spreads out his wings. Large and rich in dark feathers cast a shadow looming over his brother’s stature but the younger one only smiles at the sight. There’s an exchange of appreciative nods and their ways part.

Satoru isn’t naïve. He has always been more than capable of cold-thinking and calculating his actions, despite being known for a tender heart and gentle soul. The ways in which he acts are contained in the frames of necessity, he doesn’t go for the flashy displays of power and divinity. He likes to gently encourage people, hint the right paths so that they can realize where to go and how to live the rest of the time they’re given. Most of them find what’s there to discover, an enlightenment. Lord is merciful, benevolent. There are no ends to His love.

Then why people toss it away? Silly, silly creatures.

But then, times change again and as the world evolves and church begins to lose its influence, Satoru looks around with troubled mind. It seems as if people have lost direction again, finding themselves at the crossroads with unknown ends. Wrong people are taking highest spots in the hierarchy, preaching wrong words to the wrong crowds. And it crumbles, falls like a house of cards, trapping some inside and pushing away others. It’s terrible, he thinks, as his bright blue eyes meet the cloudy surface of doubt and uncertainty. And demons, them again, thrive like they never did before.

Now more than ever, little devils crawl out of the gates of Hell and poison humanity with their heinous games. Some morph themselves into forms akin to humans, blend in and start cults in the name of Lucifer and some stay true to themselves, haunting people here and there, testing their resolves, putting their faith to trials. More and more people are leaving God’s side. It’s bad, it’s unacceptable. Those demons—

“An angel?” —demons like you; devil with a face of an angel. “Even better,” you smile, but there’s nothing but malice in the gesture, “an archangel,” you inhale the divine scent that surrounds a man in front. That’s what brought you here, to a house that seemed to be stained in his divine energy. You tend to haunt the biggest believers, it’s fun to see them crumble, but you didn’t expect an actual saint. “It must be my lucky day,” you purr. Lovely.

Satoru has been warned about you before he moved onto his quest to rid the world of the dark powers that spread its tendrils among humans and it only took a short glimpse before he knew that it’s you who his brothers have been telling him about. It’s you who is told to bring angels down to Hell, to cause their banishment from Heaven. He’s lost one of his siblings because of your wrongdoings. You’re nothing but bad news, a demon so beautiful you’d easily convert even the most devoted believer into a sinner. You’ve been spreading nothing but doubt and fear, savoring the fruit of your doings with pleasure. You’re having fun on earth, it’s much more entertaining than all hells combined. You love to hear how people blame gods for every inconvenience when you can clearly see what led them down the path of bad luck. You whisper little hints into their non-expecting ears, encourage them and watch the dread wash over their faces. It's a cruel game you play but it's rooted deeply into your nature.

“It’s an odd excitement in your voice, demon,” Satoru retorts firmly and his eyes follow you as you circle him. It’s predatory, he feels like a pray underneath your curious, taunting gaze and he nags himself for it — he’s above you, you’re just a demon. There’s nothing you can do to break his spirit, he’s above all your tricks.

“Oh, forgive me,” you lower your head, but nothing in the gesture spells disrespect more than a smirk that dances on your mouth. Slowly you make your way back in front of him and then, you plop onto the bed to your right. You bounce few times on the soft mattress and dart your head up, looking at him, challenging him. He refuses.

“You’re in no search of forgiveness.”

“What gave it away?” You’re cocky, huffing an air out of your lungs in a voiceless chuckle and tilting your head more to the side. There’s a danger to your silhouette, you’re confident. You are a sin.

Satoru lets out a sigh and his eyes narrow. “What could have not given it away?” He questions and yet another laugh cuts through the otherwise silent atmosphere of the room. It’s melodic, it’s… pretty?

“Smart boy… Your name?”

“Satoru.”

“Not truly a name I expected,” you bare your teeth in a smile and Satoru notices the sharpness of your fangs. They are not quite animalistic but much sharper than his own. It fits.

“I travel through people a lot, I have taken a name akin to their own,” he explains, keeping his tone somewhat dry as he studies you. You’re not demonic per se. In fact, you’re barely even scary if he compares you to the thousands of demons he’s encountered in his existence. They are usually tainted with darkness, often bearing features of animals or mystical creatures. Scales and horns seemed to be usual on their bodies and eyes that shown nothing but abyss, but you — you’re nothing of it. You seem too inviting. There’s attractiveness to the way you look; your eyes are a little lidded and engulfed by rows of eyelashes, your lips seem as if they were created specifically to tempt, to kiss. Your frame doesn’t stray from what Satoru would see among humans and your skin doesn’t bear any signs of disfigure or scales. If not for the aura that surrounds you and the way mischief glints in your eyes, one could easily mistake you with an actual angel. No wonder why it is so easy for you to spread doubt.

“That’s fair,” you shrug and push yourself up. As you pass Satoru, a chill runs down his back as the darkness stretches behind you. He watches as you look around the place, running your fingertips across the surface of the desk and few shelves. You touch the spines of books that decorate them, tenderly rub the top of the ceramic figure in a shape of a little cherub. There’s something cat-like in a way you curiously explore the area, seemingly oblivious to the watchful gaze that follows you.

“If turning into nothing isn’t on your list of wishes, I’d advise you to go back where you came from,” the angel speaks after a little while, taking a step into your direction and you chuckle, sparing him a short glance from the corner of your eye. It’s brief, but it makes him stop.

“Good advice,” you muse, taunting him with the intonation of the syllables and he hates how easily you throw him off balance. “I’m not the best in following instructions though.”

“You seem to struggle with more than just that.” It’s a jab and you raise your eyebrow before you fully turn towards him. It’s only an accident that you knock the little figurine off the shelf and it breaks against the hardwood floor. “Your playtime on earth is over, demon.”

“Oh, my playtime on earth has just begun, angel.”

“If you refuse to comply, I’ll be forced to take you to Heaven where you’ll be trialed and punished for every deplorable crime you have committed against the greater plan of God.”

“There’s no need for me to go up to Heaven when I see Heaven came down to me,” you chuckle, resting your eyes on his face for few seconds before you allow them to run down his figure and you admire. He is a sight to behold, a stature of toned flesh and muscles balanced into something truly divine. “I need to admit, you’re very nice on the eyes. Such a beautiful angel.”

Oh, you’re dangerous. Your voice just like honey warms Satoru from the inside out. He feels his heart rate increasing and his breathing becoming shallower as you admire him so openly. He should be used to it, he is used to being worshipped by mortals, but not by a creature of your kind. He watches you approach him, your steps confident between the ceramic pieces of a broken cherub and he feels his resolve begin to falter as you playfully prod his chest with your long, pointy nail. Then you drag it down his pectoral, run it across his stomach and he grabs your wrist before you reach his waistline.

“I will not play your games, demon,” he states, looking you in the eyes with forced calm and firm voice.

“No? You seem to be a little… troubled.”

“Do not mistake my confusion for submission. I am an archangel, I will not allow myself to be corrupted by your alluring presence,” he states a little too harshly and he hates it. There’s something so utterly irresistible about you that makes him think of giving in. It makes him want to taste the temptation and deep down he knows that he had already lost. His thoughts are consumed by the pictures of you, it’s against everything he knows, it’s against everything he is.

And it’s all that you are. A play of taunt and seduction. A wild, untamed soul entangled in dark shades of evil, a temptress with one objective rooted deeply into your core. Chaos.

“I am sure you can resist me,” you tease, getting even closer and you lean in, running the tip of your nose along the side of his neck. “Oh, you smell so good. So pure and innocent.”

“Enough.” He groans and it’s final. You laugh, but he doesn’t find it funny. Your hot breath lingers on his skin long after you distance yourself from him. Your hands raise in a mock surrender but it’s only a moment before you resume your game.

“You know what I find interesting?” A question leaves your mouth as you twirl in the dim light of the nightstand lamp and sit on top of the window edge. The night wind gently messes your hair and your eyes twinkle with the spark of playful evil. “You, angels, are always so strict and set that you don’t need any pleasure and all… why would it be?” Your tone is a derision of curiosity, you carefully pick and choose your words to form sentences obscure, unclear.

“My body has been crafted with a purpose much greater than to experience carnal needs and craves,” he says, firm on his beliefs despite the warmth coursing through his veins. “Human pleasures stand below my existence; the essence of an archangel is much more monumental. I was designed, both in mind and body, to focus solely on my duties and responsibilities, leaving no room for personal desires.” The answer is practiced, it flows in a way he’s used to tell it, however this time he knows that he’s lying to himself and everyone else. He’s lying in front of a demon, and oh, you know so well that he does. It’s amusing. It’s delicious. You want more. You want to break him.

“If that would be the case, why did your beloved god create you with a dick, huh?” You’re blunt, too blunt for Satoru’s liking but he has to let that slide, otherwise he’d flush bright red.

“My creator did not intend me to experience sexual pleasure. Instead, He believes I should focus solely on my sacred duties without being distracted by carnal desires.” He tries again, internally feeling all of his defenses crumbling and you laugh, as if you can tell the words mean nothing.

“I bet I could make you cum by as much as flicking my tongue over your nipple.”

There goes the blush. Satoru feels it creep up his chest and neck, his face and to the tips of his ears. The deep shade of crimson contrasts starkly against his pale complexion and pristine white hair and he closes his eyes, tries to compose himself but your giggles make it so difficult. You’re content, he knows it, you’re a demon, for god’s sake. It’s your tactic to break humans, a form of pulling at the most primal strings, but he’s not a human, he’s above all of them, he shouldn’t break just like that. It’s a turmoil. Satoru hates the feeling, he hates the way his body, the perfect creation designed by his father, reacts to the picture you planted into his mind. It shouldn’t be happening, why is this happening?

“Breathe, angel,” your voice is a whisper, it’s right against Satoru’s mouth. He feels your breath on his skin, the tip of your nose running down his cheek, your tongue tracing his jawline. His heart struggles to keep up, it’s too much, it’s too close, you’re too much. Inhale. Exhale. He forces himself to breathe, a little too shallow, a little too fast. His body is tense, you’re too close.

He won’t do this.

All defense mechanisms flare up in Satoru’s body, he stills, his eyes stay squeezed shut. Your hands dance atop of his shoulders, trace the shapes of his form and he feels you. You toy with him, your claws run down his chest, your fingertips tease the edges of his neckline, the white collar of his shirt. Calm down. It’s wrong, it’s so wrong, he shouldn’t feel it. Why does it feel right? It’s not right. It’s not angelic, you’re a demon, you want to corrupt him, to destroy him.

He cannot do this.

His fists clench up to his sides and you hum the softest melodies under your breath, as you lean in more and more. You exhale, but it’s different than his ragged breaths. You’re relaxed, he doesn’t have to see you to know you’re smiling. You take a step and he takes one back. It’s paralyzing. Satoru’s thoughts are overtaken by pictures of you, by pictures he has never allowed himself to project. It’s one of your tricks, isn’t it?

He can’t—

It feels warm. His whole body feels warm and it coils, somewhere below his bellybutton, a knot of tension he has yet to experience. It puts a haze to his thoughts, blurs the persistent image of your sinful tongue and he doesn’t understand it fully. A sequence of twitches and trembles send his mind into panic and he falls. His knees buckle, the edge of the mattress causes them to bend and he grabs onto the closest thing, onto you, when his body drops onto the mattress. The soft bounce ripples through him and he feels you above him. You giggle, it’s quiet and playful and it vibrates through the skin over his collarbone the moment you press your lips there.

“S-stop,” he mutters. It’s a weak plea concurring with a feeble squeeze on your hips. His eyes flare open, he feels feverish. You’re right on top of him but not quite touching him enough. Your hips are in the air, you’re taking it slow, you like to play with your prey.

“Yeah? You want me to stop?” You coo. Patronizing tone of your voice envelop him in a veil of mockery and he heats up again. Your dainty, swift fingers deal with the buttons before he has a chance to notice, his fogged-up mind struggling to keep up. “You’re gonna have to be more convincing than this, angel.”

He—

Your tongue circle around his nipple and Satoru moans. It’s a cry, a sound of an angel falling into a trap of a demon. An angel losing itself in something unholy, tasting the fruit that’s forbidden. And you smile against his skin, teasing the hardening bud with your teeth. They’re sharp against his sensitive skin and he hisses shortly before you soothe the ache with the warmth of your muscle. It’s wet and hot against his skin and Satoru’s brain short-circuit.

Your hand explores his stomach, tracing the stretched-out muscles that twitch every time you touch them. He arches off the bed, his body leaning into the sin while his mind tries to fight it — a losing battle of everything that’s divine in him against the carnal desires that weren’t supposed to be there.

Lust is a foreign concept to Satoru. He’s seen it in humans, he’s seen souls losing their purity to the wicked pleasures. He’s seen those shameless people giving into lascivious lifestyles, searching for stimulus so depraved and vulgar that each time he witnessed them, he wondered how could one’s faith loose to something so salacious. How could God create such weakness, but he believed that even the souls that lost their path in the indecency could find a way back into the Father’s grace. Would he be able to get back?

“P—haah—please,” he whimpers, pathetic against all of his instincts and his hand finds the back of your head. Your hair feels soft against his palm, like silk and honey and he shivers at the contact. You’re unbothered by his attempts, licking and sucking his delicate skin as if he’s one of those desserts people like so much.

Satoru’s nipples are swollen, the skin around them red from your frisky abuse. More and more sounds escape his mouth, it’s pathetic, how he whines underneath you, how you rendered him completely helpless. And he panics again. It feels odd, his body tenses and he doesn’t know why. Hot blood floods down his body, it feels torturously tight in his pants. He twitches, his fingers curl against your head, tugging at the beautiful threads of your hair and his eyes flutter shut.

Suddenly, it’s too hot. It’s wet, it feels sticky against his sensitive skin. A wave of relief washes over him, it tickles something inside his brain just the right way. It’s feels gratifying, addicting. Is that what pleasure feels like? Are those stars dancing in front of his eyes a sign of fulfillment? Satoru’s mind is hazy, everything feels blurry, but he relaxes into the feeling. His thigh still trembles, the lower parts of his stomach muscles contract a little less now, a little slower and he feels it in his pants. It’s satisfying, it’s foreign. It’s a bliss.

“Did my beautiful, beautiful angel made a mess?” You coo once more and it sounds a little less mocking than all of your previous sentences. Or maybe it’s Satoru’s mind playing tricks on him.

“Y-yeah… I think I did,” he pants out. His eyes are fixed on the ceiling, on the heavens above and he wonders if He saw that? Father sees everything. Have Satoru’s brothers also witnessed that? Were they enjoying the front row seats to his demise?

You’re already on your way down, pressing sinful kisses to his sacred body as your fingers undo the button of his pants and pull down the zipper. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll clean you up,” you purr, inhaling the intoxicating scent of him. You pull the fabric down. His boxers are wet as you peel them off his body. Hot strings of cum stretch between his skin and underwear, it coats his cock and the flesh around it, trickling down to his balls.

You gasp at the sight, it’s truly a vision of pure angelic glory. He’s hard, still, the veins pulsate ever so slightly around the thick girth, leading your eyes to the pink, glistening tip. “You surely are his favorite,” you muse before your tongue darts out, eager to taste him.

Satoru’s breath hitches in his chest and he hesitates to look down. Maybe if he doesn’t see it, it won’t be as bad of a sin, maybe it’s not his end. But it sure does feel good. Is he allowed to feel good? He moves his head, eyes dropping lower until they meet the sight of you. You shot him a smile, a grin worthy of a devil as you lap at the white seed sticking to his flesh. It’s lewd, the way your tongue works around his curves and edges. He hears your soft purr; he feels it every time your lips close around the sensitive tip of his cock. It’s messy, your chin is slick from his spent, there’s some on the tip of your nose, it coats your reddened mouth and greedy fingers. “You taste divine,” you murmur, tracing the underside of his member with the flat of your tongue and then, your hand wraps around him. The gentle pressure squeezes a moan out of Satoru’s mouth. He can’t look away. Not when your eyes are fixed on him. He sees the glint of mischief in the color of your eyes, it’s almost reddish as it glows in the dim lights.

You play with him, eliciting moan after moan from his troubled body, feeding of the internal turmoil that seeps through his skin making him that much more delectable. Your mouth works in tandem with the steady pumps of your hand and you feel him twitching already. He’s so innocent, so inexperienced that you just know he’s gonna come too soon, but it excites you. You want more from him, he’s sweet on your tongue, addicting. And oh, isn’t he beautiful? With his face contorting in pleasure, his cheeks flushed in an adorable shade of deep red and eyebrows drawn together. His lips red and bitten, parted just slightly to let all those sweet whimpers escape. His eyes are blissfully glazed, the blue oceans wet with tears and shaky. What a sight.

And then he moans again, those cerulean orbs disappear from your vision as his lids drop down. His back lifts off the bedsheets, hands clenching against the soft cotton and you see his head tilting back as orgasm overwhelms him. His hips buck upwards, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat as he sprouts his seed, painting the inside of your mouth white. You pump him through it, prolonging the pleasure.

“What a sight,” you purr, licking away any traces of sin from his skin. “All clean. It’s as if nothing happened,” and here is your usual taunt. “Well, I guess your boxers do give it away, aren’t they?”

He doesn’t respond. Heart trashes in Satoru’s chest as he slowly comes down from the intense high he’s experienced, he gasps on air desperately and releases all the tensed muscles. A smile stretches his lips, he huffs at first, and then laughs helplessly, as tears run down his cheekbones.

“You’re gonna leave me here, broken and useless,” he says, as you climb upwards and lean to kiss the salty drops off his face. “Are you happy? I bet you are, demon.”

His tone is odd, it’s both colder than before and softer at the same time. It’s accusing, it’s hopeless. “I can’t say I’m not satisfied,” you tell him and he scoffs, turning his head towards you and you drop onto the bed next to his defeated body. There’s a sin now engraved down to the very morrow of his bones, his chastity stained irrevocably and his soul threatening to shatter. “But I don’t wish to leave you here to your demise.”

“Oh no? What do you wish for then?”

“Besides the obvious desire to fuck you, I’d be content if you stayed with me here, on earth.”

“So vulgar,” he exhales, his body both cringing at the sound and getting excited all over again. “I was not created to fuck.”

“I think I proved my point that you’re perfectly capable of those primitive carnal desires you declined so much.”

Satoru closes his eyes. How did that happen, how could that happen? It must’ve been a cruel joke. He’s an archangel, God’s favorite, he’s the honored one. He was supposed to be above all demonic tricks and seductions, those devilish powers have never reached him for hundreds of years. And now, what is he supposed to do?

“I suppose heaven won’t take me back now,” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else. Maybe if he seeks penance, maybe if he atones for his sins.

“What a shame,” you muse, cupping his cheek in your palm. Your finger trace idle circles into the skin over his cheekbone; it’s a delicate touch and you feel how hot his face is, damp from the tears and flushed. “Heaven lost its most beautiful angel.”

taglist: @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @li7wakwnsekzebby @vanshoe @myahfig4 @suguruscousin @ressyshi @dcvilxswish @erenjvegerrr @crywolfix @wildheart03-blog @elliotsbeigeguitar @mi-mosaa

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absolutebl · 16 days ago

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This Week in BL - 2024 is Ending, Not With A Bang But With A Whimper

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

Dec 2024 Week 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

Your Sky AKA How to Train Your Seme (Sun iQIYI) ep 6 of 12 - Oh they are so fucking cute. Lee maybe the best brother wingman ever in BL. He is so entirely on Fah’s side. And we get sweet soft first kisses with permission asked. Yeah!

Stupid phone call!

ThamePo (Fri YT) ep 3 of 12 - Not gonna lie, hard call over whether this should take the top spot this week. I adore this show.

This lead pair is absolutely stunning. I love that the story is about external drama with others, not manufactured drama or miscommunication between the leads. In fact, the romance that we see developing is one characterized by careful attention, gentleness, and patience. They enjoy each other‘s company in a restful calming way. We are watching them become each other’s safe space. Neither of them realizing how much they needed that from the world. I hope the conflict stays external and they get to evolve as a couple while narrative tension stays external.

Love Sick 2024 (Sun iQIYI) ep 15 end - i’m quite pleased that they kept most of the stuff in the forest. And I actually like that they swapped it around so that this was the end of the series. I think it makes for a better more solid ending. I'm disappointed that 10 years on and PhunNoh still don't get to have a decent kiss. Since I think the new pair would’ve done fine with it. In the end I think neither Love Sick really come out on top. They’re both represent their time although this new one was oddly nostalgic.

I chronicaled my experience with 2024 as compared to 2014 here including ep-by-ep recaps and ratings, as well as a summary judgement over all. Spoiler...... all that work and it was, ultimately, a draw. I guess 10 years a not all THAT much has changed in Thail BL. Therefore this Love Sick gets the same as the original, 7/10

The Heart Killers (Weds Gaga) ep 6 of 12 - I love the tension and the slow rollout of the secret being revealed. It’s really beautifully done. Joong is knocking his role out of the park, I have to say. He’s kind of stealing this show for me. Also I loved the foreshadowing of drawing the make up tears on his face and then, of course, us knowing that there will be tears from Fidel in this episode once he knows The Truth. Very nice, boyos.

Fourever You (Thurs YT) ep 13 of 16 - I think i love Arthirt best in the world. love seeing someone more an arse than Johan. To Johan. Also, by all means take Ngern's shirt off. We all being all kinds of respectful on this side of the screen. Pinky promise.

Caged Again (Fri Gaga) ep 8 of 10 - Adorable date and sweet kisses. But NGL this episode was a bit boring for me.

Perfect 10 Liners (Sun YT) ep 9 of 24 - I think that I like ForceBook best when they are just being casual long-term boyfriends together. You know, chwill chwill sabai sabai. I see Santa is back in his "punk ass little brother" role. Suits him well enough. But I have to say that Junior is absolutely stealing this show. He’s truly stellar. Meanwhile, what an adorable hug and meet cute. I enjoyed the ending of this episode. I admit, I’m not sold on the new pair, but I’m more willing to give them a chance now then I was when this was first announced.

Secret Love 60-81 end - what a very odd show. But I forgive a lot for pining semes and the stepbrother trope. 7/10

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Our Youth AKA Miseinen: Mijukuna Oretachi wa Bukiyo ni Shinkochu (Japan Tues Gaga) ep 8 of 11 - oh its so painful. No one does this level of suffering like Japan. Just press that bruise and feel the sticky sweet ache.

See Your Love (Taiwan Weds Gaga) ep 11 of 13 - it is all very important and absolutely adorable but where Sean just kind gestures desperately at the bed and Shao Peng muscles him into it was absolutely fantastic. All the picking up and tossign arroudn and smily fun kissing in the shower. It'll all just GREAT. Also, THAT pregnancy line was epic.

Eternal Butler (Taiwan Fri Gaga) eps 3 of 12 - It's actually quite sweet. Tonally quite odd, and definitely jarring when pitted agains the rest of the end of year offerings, but I think I like it? I don’t know where it’s going. Or what it’s doing. And I don’t entirely trust it. Because of the production house track record. But I am enjoying it. Also, the horny herb drug is back. This is a seriously old trope. Like 1970s old romance trope.

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 13 of ? - I'm bored.

It's airing but......

Spare Me Your Mercy (Thurs iQIYI) finished it's run. I don't know what to do. Reviews are all over the damn place. Do I watch?

Be Moon - Falling for my enemy's son (China YT) movie from HBD Studio. I can't find it. You?

Winter Is Not The Death of Summer (Thai ???) - has been picked up to air on WeTV, or something? Criminals who meet in prison fall in love. I did find it on YouTube, initially un-subbed, then subs happened by which time I got distracted. It is very pulp but intriguing. For now it's to the wayside until someone tells me it landed safely. Occasionally Thai pulps want to be edgy and it's not a good look on them. But sometimes they do good.

The Renovation (Thai mini One31) 2 eps - Writer turns his blossoming romance with holiday resort owner into a novel. Is it worth tracking down? That is the question.

0.5D (Japan ????) 4 eps - Supposedly a now completed short. "Sales ace, Sada, has a secret that only his junior, Daiki, knows. He has pretended to have a gf for years, resulting in him being a virgin. But now Sada has fallen in love. Confused, Sada seeks advice from his junior." I sense another queer Cyrano De Bergerac. I can't find and it's got very poor reviews, so Imma stop looking. Info here.

It Ended But?

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days (China Sun Viki) paused at eps 9-10 of 12 - I have been told the ending is OK if not great. I just haven't been inspired to watch.

In Case You Missed it

I've started my end of year wraps. Here's the 2024 Trend Report. My best of year wards are still to come. Watch this space.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Final still to come in 2024:

12/29 Sangmin Dinneaw (Thai Sun iQIYI) ??eps - trailer Childhood friends (Thai & Korean) reunite after being apart for ten years. As the boys reconnect, their bond matures and feelings of romance develop.

2025 Line Up

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 1

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 2

20 BLs Announced for 2025 That I'm Really Excited About

GMMTV 2025 Line Up - My Totally Biased and Wildly Flawed Feels

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENT

BEST BOY. (Your Sky)

(last week)

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

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bonefall · 22 days ago

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Glitch Warrior: Stonewing

FUNFACT turns out that Stonewing in ShadowClan actually had a beta name. He was called Stonetooth, and was going to be mates with an obscure background cat called Wasptail.

Since I'm scrounging up ShadowClan cats here I'm absolutely doing something with this. But, there's already a Stonetooth. So we're looking at a conflict rename, lads!

Before getting to the poll, here's some deets about this guy;

Based on how the timeline shakes out, they're likely to end up as the child of Spindleclaw-- another Glitch Warrior, the brown sister of Ivytail.

This would make them Blackstar's grand-nespring.

If so, they might also be siblings with Shrewfoot.

Wherever they end up on the tree, this cat will be a sibling of Stonewing. Probably a littermate.

BB!Stonewing is actually deaf from birth. It works especially well if they have a sibling, because the home signs they develop to communicate can become part of the sign language that's going to evolve after SkyClan's arrival lmao.

The two can split the roles Canon!Stonewing has occupied. (Bonus, this can also fix an error that was in ASC: Star where Stonewing was a prisoner in the camp and the island at the same time lmao)

Stone"tooth" will probably be mates with Wasptail for a while, but I don't know if kittens will result. Stonewing's kittens with Grassheart are unchanged.

I am not committed to any particular gender for this cat yet. I'm leaning towards molly or gib.

For new names, I have three thoughts;

Option 1: StoneCHAT-tooth

A bird with a song like two stones being clicked. I feel like this could be a really cute reference to the idea that Stonewing was born deaf and doesn't speak, and so Stonechat-tooth helps interpret for him.

Since Stonechat-tooth is a bit long, I might make it Chat-tooth. Or just give them the Squilf treatment with their nickname-- Stoot.

Option 2: Bonetooth

A rhyme, but also ShadowClan sense of humor at work. Stonewing is pure white with dark blue eyes, and his sibling Bonetooth would be stony-gray. Mismatching colors chosen for the kits, to confuse their enemies.

Plus, Bone is a cool prefix. I say with absolutely no bias whatsoever.

Option 3: Different Kind of Rock-tooth

There's actually lots of types of neat rocks to use here. Fossils are not uncommon, fairy coins mean that both Fairy and Coin are valid, conglomerate rocks mean that "Cobbletooth" could be a totally valid name here.

Or even just Rocktooth, of course. Simplest alternate name.

EXACT details to be hammered out, so the precise name is chosen later; which BROAD CATEGORY should this rename go into?

#better bones au #BB!Stonewing

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sunshine-tattoo · 23 days ago

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Stuff for HB season 3

m&m relationship arc

while I think that ultimately they will keep the baby, millie and moxxie have a lot of stuff to work on first.

they married young and without knowing much about each other like their pasts. especially moxxie hiding his mob background.

this is their time for the relationship to evolve past the lovey-dovey gooey phase and enter something a bit more serious and with more depth.

they seem to be entering this already since they were able to voice some of their complaints about each other (moxxie watches too many musicals, millie snores, etc) during the sinsmas play fight.

but there will definitely be some angst and serious writing for them.

millie especially will be working on her dismissal of human lives as expendable in her role as an assassin.

perhaps there is a scene where she can't bring herself to kill a pregnant person/ someone with a new baby because she is going to be a mother herself.

octavia learns about what is expected of her as a goetia/ stolas's past

we as the audience have known from the beginning that stolas was forced from a young age to be what was expected of him and to marry/ produce an heir out of obligation.

but I think via has no idea about any of it.

stolas hide it from her because he wanted his child to grow up happy and carefree, without the crushing responsibilities he felt.

now that stella and Andy are in charge I have a feeling that they will be demanding a lot more of her, especially if Andy is looking to punish her for embarrassing him during the sinsmas fight.

honestly to hold on to his own power, he may try to marry her off.

this will allow via to understand how lucky and unique her life has been and how hard stolas worked to protect her.

im also thinking that loona will have a hand paw in this process too.

loona is a neutral party in the family messiness because 1) she is an adult and 2) she is adopted.

via is smart enough to know that loona won't automatically take blitz's side and if she does it must be for a good reason.

stolas unlearning his rich privileges

we have seen a bit of this during the month montage before Sinsmas but it was a lot of stolas being in shock/ feeling sorry for himself.

but stolas really must learn that even tho he had a miserable childhood and immense responsibilities, he also had WAY more of literally everything.

and that in order his level of power to exist, the rest of the hellborn (imps especially) must live in abject poverty.

Imp revolution

despite hellborn not liking stolas, blitz clearly is becoming a folk hero and his actions are leading to revolt.

this may be a season 4 thing, but I think that hell is headed for full on class warfare.

the hellborn will fight against the goetia and demand equal rights and maybe even democracy.

Ozzie and Bee will no doubt be involved because they have hellborn lovers and have always been supportive of the lower classes.

but the rest of the Sins will either be staunchly against or just uninterested.

barbie wire arc

we definitely need a resolution to her hatred of blitz and blaming him for the fire.

her seeing everyone praise blitz for his heroics will lead to a big confrontation about everything.

Anybody got other ideas? :)

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redheadspark · 1 year ago

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can I get Druig with "how can you be this cheery already? we haven't even had breakfast." and "you won't stop this until i say 'yes', will you?" 🥺

A/N - YAS FOR THIS! I would love to write this, thanks for the request, dear friend!

Ray

Summary - Who knew the mind-controlling Eternal was a ball of sunshine in the morning

Warnings - just some fluff :)

Humming was the first thing you heard when you were slowly waking up, much to your dismay.

Grumbling, you threw the thin sheet over your head to try and block out some of the sun that was about to pour into your little shack. The softer sounds of the trees high above rustling in the morning wind was the next thing you heard, a shiver going through your body as the humming was continuing. You huffed, knowing now that there was no way you were going to be sleeping again as the bed was now shifting. A pair of gentle yet calloused hands touched the top of your head and massaging your scalp as you wiggled under the sheet.

“Mornin’, my love,”

His deep tremor of a voice was enough to have you open your eyes, seeing through the thing sheet a silhouette of a body.

“How are you already awake this early?” You said in a mumble under the sheets as the fingers in your hair never stopped moving slowly, “It’s the weekend. We don’t have chores today.”

“Still a good day to wake early and enjoy,” he replied as you huffed, pushing the sheets down and scowling up at your husband of 400 years. Druig, perched over you on the bed with his tossed hair shining in the sun and his piercing blue eyes looking like sapphires orbs looking down at you. He was sporting a thin shirt and running pants, a thin sheet of sweat already evident on his face as he grinned widely at you.

“You went running?” You asked as a yawn as he nodded.

“Earlier this morning, since I know you’d rather sleep all day than enjoy the first rays of the morning,” He teased, you rolling your eyes.

“How can you be this cheery already? We haven’t even had breakfast yet,” You stated as he shrugged.

“It’s a nice day, and I find it a blessin’.” He replied, then leaning down a bit to graze his nose with yours with affection. You could breathe in the soil that was under his nails from working out in your little vegetable garden the night before, the sweat he got from his rain, and something that was simply Druig, “The blessin’ of our village, the blessin’ of breathing in the fresh air of the jungle, and the greatest blessin’ of bein’ married to ya,”

500 years together in the Amazon was nothing short of heavenly for you and Druig. Getting there was such a harsh and difficult decision, simply because you two left your Eternals family behind. Druig went through so much turmoil and pain that night, knowing he was not able to help stop the genocide that was unfolding in front of all of you. As his wife, you stood by him and never swayed in that choice when he decided to go off on his own and branch out away from all you two knew. You too were heartbroken, not knowing when you were going to see the others again. It’s been 500 years of raising a village and being away from the rest of the world that seemed to evolve and grow.

Ajak told you one last thing before you followed behind Druig. You looked up to her as a mother, seeing the sense of comfort in her eyes as she gave you one last time.

“Take care of him and his heart,”

So you did.

Being married to the mind controller was nothing short of adventurous. You two knew each other far too well, from the mannerisms to routine. He loved sweets and you loved spice. You preferred simple affection in public whereas Druig saved his affection for the bedroom. You loved to sleep in and take your time in the morning, whereas Druig loved to rise early with chores on his mind and take care of the village before the sun would even rise.

It was a role reversal, you being the grumpy ball of sleep and Druig being the early-rising ray of sunshine.

“Druig…it’s too early,” You said as he was peppering you with kisses and laughing as he was. It was one of the tactics that he would use to get you out of bed.

“Will you join me for breakfast?” He asked against your cheek. You said nothing, attempting to ignore him as he then went for the next tactic on his list. His fingers moved to go to your sides, tickling you and making you shriek in laughter as you writhed and wiggled in bed. Druig never stopped, keeping his fingers along your skin as you were laughing and crying at the same time. Druig never thought of anything more beautiful than you laughing on the bed, hair flying everywhere along your face and skin, the sun shining down on your dark hair to have it almost shimmer. To him, you were everything and more that he would ever want and cherish in this life.

“You won’t stop this until I say ‘yes’, will you?” You asked in a breath as he shook his head. Finally, knowing that this was a battle you weren’t going to win, relent and sighed, “Fine. Fine, I said! Let me get dressed first!”

“Good!” He replied, his fingers retreating as you finally caught your breath again and he leaned back to have you sit up in the bed, “Although next time we can eat breakfast in bed since you covet this bed more than me,”

“..you’re not wrong,” You teased, then being silenced with Druig’s lips on yours. You could take his sunshine attitude every day if you could, knowing that it would lift you up and push away the grumpiness that was deep inside of you. No matter how much you hated mornings, you would take Druig waking you up with kisses and sunshine every day if you could. His affection was shown in his smile, in his words, and in all he did around him and for you.

You’d happily take 500 more years of Druig’s happiness over anything on this planet.

The End

Grumpy Vs. Sunshine Prompt Session

#druig x reader #druig x female reader #druig x y/n #druig x eternal!reader #druig fanfiction #druig fluff #eternals #fanfiction #writing #barry keoghan #druig #marvel #the eternals #marvel cinematic universe fandom #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #mcu phase 4 #mcu fanfiction #mcu

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meanbossart · 11 months ago

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Hi!! I don't know if this has been asked before, but I was curious about the DU Drow's relationship with our dear little wretch Sceleritas Fel! What's their dynamic like? Btw love love love your Drow. You made him so freaky and fun, I should not but by god I want to chew on that man

THANK YOU SO MUCH! Oh boy, I love Sceleritas Fel a lot and I feel like they had a pretty in depth relationship.

The way I wrote DU drow's backstory involves him being almost solely in Sceleritas company for a couple of years. I really took the line "You always needed a lot of assistance" that you get from him to heart - Sceleritas didn't just serve idly, he was a grim cheerleader and sponsor who, for whatever reason (I guess just inherit nature - this is his whole life's purpose after all) would have always been eager to see DU drow succeed. After He killed his matron and Sceleritas finally appeared, he became a near-constant companion in leading him out of the Underdark and through the surface, save for seldom times where he was just gone for a little while, but never for longer than a couple of days.

As a pre-adolescent and through young adulthood (And eventual bhaal...hood) I picture their relationship evolving pretty drastically. child/pre-teen DU drow was a badly socialized feral child with very little grasp on reality, I think he assumed Sceleritas was some sort of figment of his imagination for a very long time - but followed his instructions nonetheless as he had no other direction in life. He was near-mute and seemingly lacking cognitive capabilities/self preservation instincts, so when Sceleritas said go, he'd go. When the butler would point at something he could kill and eat, he would try (and at the start, usually fail) when Sceleritas told him to seek shelter from the elements or danger, he would do it. When he came into contact with people who seemed to have his best interest in mind (concerned travelers and the odd kindly city person whenever he happened to be passing through a town) and Sceleritas told him not to trust them, to take whatever advantage he could from the situation and, often, kill them, he'd do just that. It was almost as if Sceleritas was the master and he was the thrall.

As he grew a little older (15 and on) and his skills in survival and cunning had been honed, as well as him growing a little more talkative, the dynamic would begin to flip; not only that, but DU drow would slowly grow more and more frustrated and skeptical of Sceleritas promises that he was leading him to his supposed destiny, and would try to press him for what that even entailed - Sceleritas would never fold or tell him anything (he didn't want to ruin the suprise!) and instead just reassured DU drow that if he could just outlast his circumstances for a little longer, that he would eventually be greatly rewarded - that he just needed to prove himself first.

This is also around the time where DU Drow first killed him in what was probably a fit of anger and frustration; a decision he immediately regretted and panicked about, since he was so reliant on his guidance and Sceleritas was essentially the only reason he had to keep on living - but when the butler just popped back up after a few days later (he figured it would be good to scare him a little bit!) and DU drow realized he was immortal, it became a habit to take his frustrations out on him.

After a while of finally joining the temple and learning of his status as Bhaal's progeny, DU Drow would completely grow into the role of Sceleritas superior and master. He was tyrannous and demeaning and Sceleritas loved it, of course. He was still very attached to his assistance, but now it mostly applied to trivial things and everyday necessities; fetching and sending off mail, arranging his meals and meetings, keeping track of his schedule, cleaning and organizing his space, every so often playing little pranks on the other bhaalists and Orin, and, of course, aiding with DU drow's constant bouts of violence and cruelty, as well as every so often listening as he vented his frustrations at him. He took Sceleritas everywhere - DU drow most definitely didn't need him anymore, he simply wanted him around (to the despair of most people).

Sceleritas would also... Gently criticize him for some of his choices, specially DU drow's masochistic penchant and his obsession with Orin - which was usually met with a swift demise at DU drow's hands for daring to question him. Simultaneously, he would enable the same habits by complying with DU drow's orders of arranging for his wounds to be cared for or keeping close track of Orin's schedule, conversations and habits for him when requested.

If we're talking main campaign, tadpoled DU drow was understandably surprised by the visits he received from this tiny dapper gremlin LOL but he very quickly fell into his flattery like second-nature. It was only around Act 2 where he began to turn on Sceleritas for trying to order him around (telling him he should kill Isobel) and obviously for setting him up to kill Astarion, seeing the butler as an enemy and traitor from that point forward even though he would remain inexplicably fond of the little guy throughout.

#ask #sceleritas fel #DU drow lore

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strawberrystepmom · 1 year ago

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gojo x f!reader. self ship coded. wc 1.1k. cw: reader is referred to as "little snow angel" and is wearing high heeled boots. divider thanks to @/cafekitsune!

You are sixteen years old the first time Gojo uses your warmth for his own comfort.

He presses his cold fingertips against your sun warmed cheek on an early spring day and you squeak, furrowing your brows and pouting while the two of you walk down an empty Tokyo street. It’s midday and you were paired up for a mission that was completed as quickly as it started, now walking side by side and enjoying a light lunch of whatever you wanted to grab from the convenience store while returning to the train station.

“Why did you do that?” You lament, chewing the mouthful of onigiri you managed to bite off before he cruelly interrupted you with the icicles he calls fingers. You shiver exaggeratedly and he sticks his tongue out and laughs, shrugging.

“Dunno. You looked like the warmest thing around.”

The compliment makes your cheeks further warm and he feels it. He’s seventeen and awkward, as inexperienced in matters of the heart as you are but he understands that despite his tendency to touch and need for physical affection, he wouldn’t be able to do this with anybody else. Your patience with his antics is a very small part of why he finds himself so drawn to you and it’s only a tiny piece of the puzzle of his feelings.

Years later, and after many additional pieces have been added to said puzzle of his feelings, he’s still seeking out your warmth.

Namely today when the air is so cold each of your puffs of breath leave you with dramatic wisps, curling through the air like hot tea you wish were in your hand warming your bones. Instead your hands are buried deep in your pockets, your legs carrying you as quickly as they can into the warmth of the apartment you moved into around a year ago - Satoru’s. Well, yours too, technically, considering you receive mail addressed to both of you but you still call it his apartment. Maybe someday you’ll get used to the fact that you two share a life together and not just pieces of a puzzle still in progress.

You are 26 years old, a virtual lifetime removed from the girl you were a decade ago, a dedicated teacher at the school you attended through your teenage years. In fact, you’re headed home from there now, the chunky stacked heel of your winter boots clacking against the cold sidewalk below them with every step you take toward the building your high rise is situated in. It’s so close yet so far away and you whine quietly, hoping he remembered to turn on the kotatsu like you asked.

Out of the pair of you, you’ve always been the hot one.

In the early days of your relationship, you realized that you and Satoru both worked better when each of you maintained defined roles. You are the serious one (sometimes), he is the joker (always). He’s the cool light of the winter moon, you’re the warm first day of spring sun. He’s the protector, you’re the protected despite your protests against this status and his insistence upon its importance. These roles have evolved over time as you’ve come into your own and he has done the same, your relationship as fluid as each of you are, but there is one thing that is always true. You run warm and he runs ice cold.

Already beneath the kotatsu upstairs, he’s in the apartment impatiently awaiting your arrival, shoving his hands and feet beneath the most ingenious invention mankind has ever dreamed up. It isn’t as hot as it should be, he forgot to turn it on when you asked and managed to remember about ten minutes ago, but it’s warming up enough that he can get the slightest bit of relief.

Off on a mission without you, he spent the whole day freezing inside of his oversized black jacket. Even three layers beneath it couldn’t keep the chill from seeping through and luckily he made it home hours before you, the danger eradicated as quickly as he could manage. Since returning home he has taken a shower with water so hot it bordered on scalding, thrown his softest and warmest sweater over his head, and moped around knowing he is missing out on the thing that keeps him the coziest.

“I’m home!”

His ears perk up as soon as he hears your voice, withdrawing himself from beneath the warmth of the kotatsu.

“Oh thank god!”

Shouting his response and scrambling to stand up, he makes it there finally and jogs across the apartment in socked feet. You grin seeing him, grateful he made it home in one piece even if it was hours before you, and you pull your boots off with an unenthusiastic grunt. He rushes to scoop you up and hold your body against his. He’s shocked when he feels how cold you are and he coos sadly, pressing his warm fingers against your cold face.

“Poor thing,” he mutters and you giggle with a shake of your head. Gojo helps you out of your coat and you sigh contentedly, letting him work each of the sleeves off of you and then go to work unraveling the scarf tied around your neck and throat. “If you’re cold it must be very cold.”

Another nod. You struggle to speak, your smile frozen on your face, because you’ve realized yet again that the roles in your relationship have evolved. He’s the warmth you’ve come home to, hands and arms and chest thawing out the frost that has developed over you throughout the day.

“I’m just glad to be home.”

Patting your face gently, warm fingers replacing the cold ones of that decade old memory, you lean into his touch and he pinches the round of your cheek between his index and forefinger as he often does. You giggle and grin and without any additional thought, dive face first into his chest and the smell of your laundry detergent and the beating heart beneath it all. Whatever winter chill remains is slowly melting away with each breath you take and each of his you listen to.

“Come on.” Satoru wraps you up and holds you against him, letting you walk on top of his feet back to the main living area. This is also something the two of you do often because he cannot physically handle being away from you long enough for you to guide yourself. “Let’s go warm you up, my little snow angel.”

Rolling your eyes at the brand new nickname he’s come up with (something else that is a daily occurrence you’ve learned to love over the last ten years), you smile to show him the gesture is nothing short of joking. He lets his hands fall around the waistband of your pants and slips one of them beneath your shirt, a yelp leaving you when the cold appendages wrap around your hip.

“Satoru!” You squeak and he chuckles, humming a little song to himself as he does every time he hears you say his name in that tone of voice. “What did you do that for?”

“I wanted to.”

He leans down and kisses your forehead with exaggerated smacks of his lips against your still cool skin.

You’ve heard it a million times - to be loved is to be changed - and you never considered that a change as small as hot and cold would fill your heart as full as it is right now. Even the cold fingers resting beneath your blouse can be forgiven when he leans down to envelop your lips in a kiss, chasing the winter blues so far away they’re all but long gone.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #kendall writes #satoken

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