#I’ll just drop stuff for this under that tag

[scarletwinterxx]

protective or possessive? call it passive or aggressive - choi seungcheol oneshot

don't ask me what the color of the sky is, might as well be green for all i care. the way i couldn't sleep after he dropped these pics haha yea no chance of peace last night. lord might have some mercy but choi seungcheol did not when he posted THAT pic. anyways enjoy my chaotic brain last night.

you can follow me on x i usually rant there, niniramyeonie 😊🌻

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to choi seungcheol)

You’re just peacefully minding your business on a Sunday afternoon, curled up on the couch in your ugly-but-beloved pajamas, scrolling through Instagram like a normal person. Brain half-off, mouth slightly open, thumb doing that lazy flick-flick motion

and then you see it.

A post.

His post.

Seungcheol.

You blink. Then you double take. Then you double tap purely on instinct, scrolling through the slides and then immediately curse yourself because right there, in glorious HD, is his back.

Bare. Sun-kissed. Broad as the moral gap between you and patience.

THE photo you took just days ago on a short trip to Hawaii you secretly tagged along all because he said he’ll miss you too much. The photo you admittedly stared at longer than you’ll ever admit. And that tattoo

The tattoo. His olive tree. Intricate, right at the top of his spine where his muscles taper off like a marble sculpture made by a Roman god with emotional intimacy issues.

You were half-sure he only let you snap it because you promised to keep it to yourself and also maybe because you bribed him with watermelon slices.

You jump off the couch like someone lit you on fire and march to the kitchen where he’s just there… innocently cutting apples like the tattooed menace he is.

“What the HELL is this?”

He jumps, literally jumps, like you just caught him cheating. Knife mid-air. Soul halfway out his body.

“Huh? What? What did I do?!”

You shove your phone in his face. “THIS. THIS back. THIS TATTOO. THIS SOFT BOY SUMMER INSTAGRAM CONTENT. EXPLAIN YOURSELF.”

He blinks. Looks at the post. Then back at you.

“Oh. You mean the beach picture?” he says, as if you’re interrogating him over a mildly burned toast. “I just thought it looked cool.”

You squint. “You said you were shy posting stuff like this! and suddenly you’re giving the people spine and emotional symbolism?!”

He rubs the back of his neck, ears already turning red. “I don’t know, you took it so nicely… I kinda liked how it turned out.”

You pause. Your mouth opens. Closes.

Because this man with shoulders like Greek architecture and a face sculpted by the heavens has the audacity to be shy about being hot.

“I literally keep this photo in a locked folder like a dragon guarding treasure,” you mutter, more to yourself. “And you just drop it on the timeline like it’s Tuesday.”

“I thought it was Sunday”

“That’s not the point.”

You lean back against the counter, arms crossed, trying to hold in the dramatic betrayal you feel in your soul.

Seungcheol fidgets under your stare, dimples threatening to appear. “You’re mad I posted it?”

“No. I’m mad you posted it and then didn’t tag me like a grateful man.”

He snorts. “So you are proud of it.”

“Obviously. It’s like watching Michelangelo post a picture of the Sistine Chapel and not mentioning he used a paintbrush.”

He actually laughs, putting the knife down and coming to wrap his stupid strong arms around your waist. “You’re insane.”

“You’re welcome for the free content.”

“I’ll post another one and tag you.”

“Good. But next time I’m watermarking it.”

“You’re gonna watermark a picture of my back?”

“I’m gonna watermark YOU”

He leans in close, lips brushing your ear. “Then maybe I should give you more… material to protect?”

You try to stay mad. You really do. But the dimples. The tattoo. The flirty smirk. The apple slice he now gently offers you like a peace treaty.

You take it. Grudgingly.

But not before muttering, “Still can’t believe you soft-launched your spine to the entire internet.”

And he just winks. “Only because you made it look that good.”

You scowl at him like he just betrayed the nation.

He’s still half-grinning when you shove your phone at him again, this time opened to the comments section. You jab your finger at the screen with righteous fury.

“Look at this!”

He blinks. “‘Body of a god, vibes of a boyfriend’… oh.” He looks up, sheepish. “That’s kinda nice?”

You gasp. “Don’t you dare enjoy this. Look at the next one.”

He reads it out loud. “‘This back cured my chronic sadness.’” A pause. “Well that’s just sweet—”

“And this one!” You scroll down aggressively. “This person wants to know if you’re single because you ‘look like you’d build a bookshelf and cry after making love.’”

He chokes. “What?!”

“Don’t act surprised. You literally cried over that dog in the car commercial last week. You’ve branded yourself.”

“Wait—wait, ‘build a bookshelf and cry’—what does that even mean?”

You glare. “It means they’re thirsting. Over my man. Who now has strangers projecting emotional healing and woodwork onto his stupid hot back.”

He’s biting his lip to keep from laughing. You scroll more.

“‘Respectfully, I’d climb him like a jungle gym.’”

“‘This is the type of man that hugs with both arms and smells like cedarwood and loyalty.’”

 “CEDARWOOD AND LOYALTY, SEUNGCHEOL.”

He gives up. He’s laughing now, leaning against the counter, red in the face. You toss the phone on the table dramatically and huff, 

“This is why you’re banned from posting back pics. I knew this would happen. The internet isn’t ready for respectful, tatted men with emotional depth.”

He shrugs, walking over to trap you in his arms again. “Maybe I just wanted to impress you.”

“I already know you’re hot, Cheol. I live with you.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem,” you grumble into his chest, “is now I have to fight the entire internet in the comments and one in particular who said ‘God took his time.’”

He chuckles, brushing his lips to your temple. “Let them look. You’re the one who gets to touch.”

You roll your eyes. “Gross. Stop being smooth.”

“You love it.”

Unfortunately… you do.

[remxedmoon]

Are. Are you still working on Isatscryption? I hope u are... Bcuz I just read through the entire tag. And I saw the WIPs. Please tell me ur still working on ittt.....

hi! i had to rewrite this entire thing, because tumblr doesn’t want me talking about isatscryption, i guess. anyways. sorry to disappoint, but i lost the drive to work on it last year after hitting a particularly bad roadblock (why did i think making a hundred variants of the frozen opossum was a good idea) and my fixation on isat faded earlier this year, so it’s kinda just. in limbo for the time being. but since im here, i might as well showcase everything i’d made before losing steam, since people are interested. who knows, maybe i’ll pick the au back up someday but for now, heres what i had.

long ass post under the cut, i had a lot more to say than i expected.

okay, first things first, terrain cards! exciting, i know. i actually had an entire inscryption campaign planned out for this au, complete with new maps and everything. those maps being the ghost town (a frozen dormont), the frost path (the path between dormont and the house), the castle (house of change), and the throne room. each map also had a list of cards that appear in encounters, because i’m deranged, but those are also: kinda boring.

petrified wood was intended for the frost path and is pretty self explanatory, while the barrel and pillar were meant for the castle. their sigils are references to memory of barrels and pillars respectively, and they would’ve given you a free item at the start of the encounter. in hindsight, i think that made the castle way too easy, especially for a final map. i think those sigils should’ve probably been locked behind a cabin puzzle. yes i was thinking about game balancing for an au that was never going to be made into a mod.

the 4th card in this terrain set was going to be the frozen creature card i mentioned earlier, which was a copy of the frozen opossum that could drop other beasts. unfortunately, i bit off way more than i could chew and decided to make a variant for every tribe in the game, including the hidden rodent tribe. this was the worst decision i ever made, and i couldn’t even get through one before it killed all my momentum. if i ever pick this au back up, im just making it one card.

while i did have other custom cards planned, they were all boss exclusives + never really got made. speaking of those bosses though, they had a lot going on! i realized pretty early on that turning the isat bosses into masks was impossible, they just aren’t human enough to look good and recognizable. so, i turned them into stage puppets instead! they had visible strings holding them up, and you would’ve been able to see them hanging on the wall in the cabin! i’m still pretty proud of that idea

that being said, they aren’t all. finished. so i’m just going to start with the ones who had the most work done.

the lovers were the boss of the frost path and my take on accablement and abattement! a sheep and a wolf stitched together by the mycologists. the sheep was lovestruck while the wolf was detached, and at the phase 2 shift, the sheep would either sacrifice itself to the wolf or the wolf would suddenly attack and eat the sheep. fun stuff! they would use powerful fusions of canine and hooved cards during phase 1, and replace them with regular fused canines during phase 2. i really wanted to use the mycologists’ boss gimmick here, but i couldn’t figure out how to make it work with only 4 spaces for cards. alas… despite that, they were my favorite of the bosses.

skipping straight to the final boss here. the frost king (or just the king, according to my notes??) was meant to replace leshy/royal as the final encounter. this art of him is actually fairly outdated by now, i drew it before i decided on making the bosses puppets, and all of those candles are supposed to be frozen in the air! they would’ve gone out and abruptly fell at each phase change.

phase 1 was. pretty boring? the king primarily used strong tribeless/canine cards, and he used royal’s gimmick of targetting certain spots on the field. instead of destroying the cards on them, he would turn them into frozen creatures. if i did this now, i’d probably him freeze your entire board, similar to the prospector.

phase 2 on the other hand, was actually the reason i made those party deathcards way back when! they were intended to be used by the king during this fight, because i thought it’d be fucked up. this does mean that leshy’s quote on that post doesn’t actually appear in the campaign, because he’s not narrating this fight. i feel like king would have something to say about them, but i never wrote anything down. sad!

and phase 3 is predictable i think. the king monologues about how he’s doing the universe’s will and doesn’t get why he’s losing, only for him to suddenly understand what the universe wants him to do. he then takes leshy’s camera, points it toward himself, and turns himself into a card to fight you. something about the cards being a perfect snapshot of life, eternal in ink. i don’t know, i never finished writing that scene. probably an obvious direction to go, but i think it’s neat.

as a note, this is where my first draft of this post got sent directly to the void. it survived this time, at least!

i’m going to just do the calamity (calamité) and the pestilence (bourdon) here because im less proud of them. the calamity was the first boss, and i never actually found a design for it that i was happy with. their boss fight revolved around the transformer sigil from act 3. their cards would cycle between avian, canine, and reptile, and their tribe would be shown on calamity’s face. during the phase change, their head and half of the field would get covered in fog, so you’d have to keep track of which tribe their cards would be yourself. i actually quite like this boss gimmick, i just never really managed to make them a Character.

and i had fucking NOTHING for the pestilence. my notes literally are just about bees, because bourdon is french for bumblebee. i think the only idea i had for them was that they’d have some kind of card that’d grow stronger depending on how many unique tribes were on the field. i never managed to make a design for them… sorry bourdon.

and finally, the secret boss! the change god!! yipee!! this was a fun one. i never fully figured out how you’d encounter them, but they required you to do a puzzle in the cabin. they’d take you into a white void, be a little asshole, and then challenge you to a battle. they were an absolute shithead, iirc they refused to give you information without doing a battle because it’d be “boring”. i love them.

mechanically, this is also one of my favorites! much like magnificus in act 2, they’d replace the sigils on your cards with new ones. but, instead of the mox sigils, every single sigil is now amorphous. this extends to their cards once they enter the field and cards without sigils. at the phase change, they’d clear the field and start playing cards from your own deck, starting with your strongest card. i haven’t talked about totems here, but they use the hooved totem head! because vaugardians are all hooved animals :3

aaand i think that’s all i can fit in here without tumblr yelling at me. i actually had a lot of fun writing this (despite having to do it twice), i didn’t realize how much i missed isatscryption. part of me actually kinda wants to revisit it now?? that’s not a promise or anything, don’t get your hopes up. maybe i’ll do a part 2 to show off some of the stuff i couldn’t fit into this post at least?

hope this was at least somewhat satisfactory 👍

[dissociativewriter]

Unnatural Affinity- Part 5

Isekai!Reader x Love and Deepspace

wc: 3.2k

cw: reader is finding her place in this part so yay! its kinda crazy though, references to illegal dealings and experimentations, blood, injury, reader is in and out of consciousness at one point, symptoms of a panic attack like twice, gunshots/bullets, throwing knives, shattered glass, its the N109 zone so crazy stuff guys, angst (its a given at this point tbh), sylus is internally freaking out but really tender, em is confused, so is reader honestly, reader accidentally drops some info she ‘shouldn’t know’, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, there are probably typos

Synopsis: Put on a mission with Em against your will, you both enter the N109 Zone. When the mission goes haywire, Em goes to the only place she knows you’ll be safe, even if she isn’t too fond of the idea: Onychinus’s Base. You shouldn’t be surprised at this point, but why is Sylus acting like this?

author’s note: this mission plot is probably going to be revisited honestly so just a heads up. writing sylus for this was actually pretty hard cause i usually write him in very fluffy situations so this was like ??? but i think it’s alright. now i just have to introduce caleb and then the plot will actually progress and be a little chaotic honestly :) i like how i wrote sylus in this part but i don’t know if i like the whole part but i hope y’all do <3

tag list: @animegamerfox @ixloom819 @magennta09 @an-ever-angry-bi @corvid007 @vigtore @ph1lo-s0ph1a @ameili @babyx91 @sadsaidthesadthing @bidisasterforevermore @liz9898 @iconoclastoc @elegantdeerlady @lifumi @auraficial @plzdonutpercieveme @dolledbunnytail @junebuggz @mangooes @anatherone @skulzooka @yuhuahuaaa @nm4565natty @feikyuu @lunia-likes-pomegranet @xfangirl-trashx @glitterykingdomangel @eialovescats @mimiu3usoft @alyssac9 @000rpheus @novaisbebita @coffeedragonhobbyist @udejoenrlddo @lanxianschoenheit @paper--angel (i hope that’s everyone! <3)

Series Masterlist

The clock struck ten and you nearly collapsed out of exhaustion.Though the windows were open, the only light came from your computer screen. Not even the moonlight could illuminate the room. Rows upon rows of data were in front of your face that you could barely read anymore. Everything was blurring together, and now you couldn’t even remember what you were looking for.

The Hunter’s Association was nearly empty, the work day ending at 6:00 for everyone else.

But for you, Nero, and Em, it seemed the work would never end.

“Oh! Listen to this,” Nero exclaimed. “ ‘Informants report the ring-leader is frequently found at high-traffic clubs and bars,’ ” he read off. He looked up at you. “That’s probably to cover up any money laundering going on. Not that that’s why we’re after him.” Nero grinned, though it faded as he seemed to remember who they were looking into.

Em had been assigned to a mission in the N109 Zone, looking into a businessman that was experimenting with and releasing Wanderers. He’d been under watch by the Association for some time as a suspect, but evidence just recently came to light giving them the ability to pursue. Given the danger levels and the extent of possible effects, Jenna had assigned you and Nero to find as much information as you could to help Em.

And a close deadline.

Very close.

How did she honestly expect you and Nero to figure everything out be 5:00 a.m. tomorrow?

“Alright,” you sighed. “I’ll look into which clubs or bars that could include. I think we can finish up soon, we just need more on his motive and sponsors.” You groaned, “That could take forever, though.”

Nero muttered something in an agreement of annoyance before you both began to work in a comfortable silence, moving in tandem as you shared data reports.

The door creaked as a silver of light made its way into the room. Em entered, notably lacking the eye bags that adorned you and Nero.

“How’s it going?” she asked softly.

“Horribly,” you muttered.

“There’s not nearly enough to find on this guy,” Nero explained. “Too many security measures, too little time.”

“Is there anything I can help with?” she offered, sitting down on the small sofa near your desks. You handed her a large file with papers spilling out at the edges.

“You should go ahead and start going through this. You’ll need to know most of this, and we can’t take the time to explain everything to you over the Hunter’s radio while you’re on the field,” you sighed, still holding out the file.

Em eyed it warily. “I have to know all of that?”

“If I can learn all of it in a night, so can you.” You dropped the papers onto her lap before collapsing back into your chair.

“Wait.” Em leaned forward, sitting on the edge of the sofa. “Why don’t you just come with me on the mission?”

You immediately shook your head. “No way. I am not trained for this like you. I’ll get myself killed!” you exclaimed.

“But you know everything we’ll need! And I’ll protect you!”

You raised an eyebrow. “How can you protect me when you came home with bruised ribs not too long ago?”

“That’s nothing.” She waved a hand. “I promise, there won’t be a scratch on you.”

“I don’t know…” you said, not noticing Em quickly pull out her phone and type something out.

It would be a good idea just to make sure Em knew what was happening, you thought, but you were in no way, shape, or form athletic. And in the N109 Zone?

It was a death sentence.

“I’ve already asked Jenna, so the only way you can get out is if she says no!” Em grinned.

You, on the other hand, groaned.

Jenna did not say no.

In fact, according to Em, it was an enthusiastic yes.

Something about a test to see how incorporating more employees into the field would go. So, much to your chagrin, you were really just a guinea pig.

“What do you even wear on a mission?” you asked the next morning. After Jenna’s approval (which came a little too quick for your taste), Nero had shooed the two of you out, saying you needed to rest for the mission and he could finish up at the Association.

“Something comfortable and easy to move around in,” Em answered. “We might have to put on some disguises anyway, so it won’t matter.” She shrugged.

You nodded as you checked your phone again, scanning the attachment from Nero. A quick run-down on the rest of the data he’d gathered last night and a general summary of the rest of it. You sent back a quick message of thanks, and only received a thumbs-up emoji.

Worn jeans and a simple shirt, you eventually decided on. Where could you go wrong with that?

Em, of course, wore her usual Hunter’s outfit that you recognized from in-game. Though you could never understand how that corset-top thing she had could be comfortable enough for killing Wanderers, you didn’t say anything.

You grabbed a small waterproof backpack from your closet. Tossing in the files, first aid kit, a water bottle, some light snacks just in case, and (for a reason you didn’t quite understand yourself) Frankenstein, you quickly zipped it up before moving into the living room.

Em came out of her bedroom a few minutes later, smoothing out her hair as you both left the apartment.

“Do you always wear your hair down on missions?” You asked as she locked the door behind the two of you.

“Yeah.” She nodded like it was obvious. “Why?”

You shrugged. “It would just get on my nerves. And in my way.”

She laughed. “Yeah, sometimes it can be a bit of trouble, but it usually stays in place.”

You thought back to the battle mode in the game. Her hair would move, sure, but it never did get in her face, always staying pristinely straight against her back. Do the weird game physics persist even as this becomes your reality?

You froze as you exited the apartment building, watching Em walk over to her bike without a word.

Did she always have a motorcycle?

She swung her leg over, looking at you expectantly. “What are you waiting for? Hop on,” she said, smiling slightly.

You sighed, cursing Jenna for agreeing to put you on this mission and cursing yourself for actually going through with everything.

You wrapped your arms around Em’s middle, holding tightly as you desperately hoped that she wasn’t a reckless driver. She made sure you were settled before revving her bike, pushing off quickly.

You didn’t die as you made your way into the N109 Zone, but you were fearing for your life the entire time.

Em pulled to a halt in front of an abandoned building, looking back to you as you both got off the bike.

“Do you take traffic laws as a suggestion?” You groaned, running a hand through your hair.

“I didn’t break any!”

“Are you sure about that?”

The bickering between you two eased as you entered the abandoned building. Shattered glass and stains you didn’t want to think about decorated the floor. The walls seemed like they were about to collapse, slightly caving inwards, twisting the graffiti designs into something entirely different.

You inched forward slowly, cautiously watching each window and broken doorframe. If this really was a hub for illegal dealings, you’d need to be careful. One wrong step could get you killed.

This didn’t seem to bother Em, however, as she noisily stomped through the building. She looked around the building, glass crunching under her boots. “What are we here for again?” she asked, unimpressed.

“Possible meeting spot for our target,” you explained. You hesitated, watching her go through another door, disappearing from sight. “Don’t you think you should be more careful?” you called out, taking slow steps to follow her.

You heard her let out a playful scoff. “Please, don’t be so worried! I’ll be fine,” she said.

You only sighed, walking over to a round table at the corner of the room. Decorated with fading poker chips and a few stray coins, there shouldn’t have been anything out of the ordinary about it. Poker games were common, especially in a place like the N109 Zone, but something set you on edge. You ran your hand over the smooth wood, searching for something you weren’t quite sure of.

When you hit a divot in the grain, your breath caught. You pushed a little more, and the top of the table opened to reveal a hidden compartment.

“Just like a movie,” you murmured.

You carefully lifted the papers, skimming through experiment reports and various receipts. This is what you needed, the final piece to properly accuse before you got the guy. You carefully set them into your backpack, looking around for Em.

No sign of her.

“Em?” You called out, taking a few more steps. A loud crash echoed through the building, and…

Was that a gunshot?

You froze. What do you do? Em has the gun, so what are you supposed to do?

Maybe it was her gunshot, you thought. Maybe she was just trying to get into a locked room and shot it open.

Why couldn’t you believe it?

Back in the main room of the building, more shattered glass was dotted around the floor and part of the wall was crumbling, bullet holes bringing down the already weak structure.

There was still no sign of Em, though.

You felt your throat tighten, a loud ringing growing in your ears. You gasped for breath, suddenly feeling unable to fill your lungs.

Like you were drowning.

More glass shattered from the window next to you, part of it grazing your skin. You heard a yell behind you and caught sight of throwing knives heading straight towards you.

You felt blood drip from your cheek and became acutely aware of the gashes on your shoulder and waist. Between the glass and the knives, you’d gotten beaten and bloodied.You needed to move, needed to get out of the way, but your legs were as heavy as lead.

Multiple sets of heavy footsteps filled you with dread.

Em, coming up from behind you, firmly grabbed your forearm and pulled you along, rushing out of the door. She pushed you onto her bike, moving to sit in front of you and holding your arm against her middle as she set off.

Bullets whizzed past your head as you two fled down the street, Em weaving and dodging each of them with careful precision. The N109 Zone passed in a blur, building lights and neon signs mixing and melting into the skyline.

You weren’t aware of the time passing or the wind blowing in your face. All you could feel was the panic, the fear, the blood.

The bike screeched to a halt and Em pulled you to your feet, wrapping an arm around you to support you weight. You pressed your hand into the wound on your waist. Wasn’t that what you were supposed to do in the event of an injury? Apply pressure?

Nothing felt real anymore, the world becoming hazy.

Was it real anyway?

You weren’t sure when you became passed out or for how long, but considering you were still being held in someone’s arms, you figured it wasn’t that long ago.

It didn’t seem like Em, though. Too big.

You heard her voice, muffled as if it were coming from far away. “…I don’t know what happened, but they found her while I was trying to get out. She got hit with some glass and a couple throwing knives, I think. I didn’t know where else to go,” she explained frantically.

A deep timber rumbled from the chest your head was leaning against. “So you decided to bring a researcher at the Hunter’s Association to Onychinus’s base?”

“We don’t have to tell her,” Em offered. “Just patch her up, and then we’ll leave. She’s unconscious now, anyway.” She shrugged.

“Not anymore,” he muttered, and you felt his eyes bore into you.

You turned to him, opening your eyes as much as you could manage. “Sylus…” you whispered, though your voice was weak.

You watched crimson eyes widen before your eyelids became too heavy.

Em didn’t seem to hear what you said, and Sylus kept quiet.

“How about you go clean up while I patch your friend up?” He looked down at her.

She furrowed her brow. “I can do it… She’s my friend, after all.”

Sylus shifted you in his arms slightly, careful not to jostle you. “No offense, sweetie, but I am much better at dressing wounds than you. And, of course, I know how much kittens need to groom themselves.” He smirked.

You heard a groan from Em before it was cut short by the click of the door. You were carefully laid on a lightly padded table, soft fluorescent lighting illuminating the room. You heard shuffling around the room, the shutting of cabinets filling the empty silence. You couldn’t lift your head, much less form a coherent sentence, so what were you supposed to do?

A warm hand grasped your arm, and you could make out the voice asking if you were okay with your shirt being lifted so he could examine your wound. You garbled out your consent, and felt your shirt being pushed up just below your chest, exposing your stomach.

The cool air against the gash startled you, though not nearly enough as the burn of the water as he cleaned it. You jolted back, now awake, nearly falling over as he gripped you by your good shoulder, pushing you back down onto the table.

“Careful,” he murmured.

Your eyes were wide now, and you couldn’t catch your breathing. He watched you with a furrow in his brow for a moment before taking your hand, pressing it against his chest.

“Follow my breathing, little dove,” he whispered. “You won’t be hurt again under my watch.”

As your breathing evened out, he watched with quiet amusement as your expression shifted into one of confusion.

“To understand one’s heart,” he kept your hand against his chest, “Be honest. It seems you use heartbeats, and I use eye contact.”

Your hand flinched back slightly, which did not go unnoticed by Sylus. You didn’t care to acknowledge his raised brow, instead wondering why the hell you were experiencing a Relax Time with Sylus.

First Xavier, now Sylus. Just what exactly was going on?

Sylus’s crimson eyes burned into yours, and you suddenly felt as if you were completely laid bare before him.

You knew he was suspicious of you. It would be odd if he wasn’t. There was no reason why you should know his name, and you could tell he was trying very hard to focus on dressing the gashes on your waist and shoulder before addressing it.

He worked with silent precision, his hands moving deftly. You watched him carefully, wondering why exactly his hands became gentler whenever you winced.

Once you were cleaned and bandaged, Sylus helped you to your feet, prepared to catch you in case you were still unsteady. He lead you out the door, keeping his hand at the small of your back.

Why did it feel so intimate?

As soon as you made eye contact with Em, she rushed towards you. Gripping your arms, she examined you, making sure you were okay.

“I’m fine, Em. I promise.” You tried to sound genuine, putting your hand on her shoulder to calm her nerves.

“You were bleeding so much, though. I’m sorry!” she cried. “I said I would protect you…”

“But that was unexpected,” you assured her. “You had no way of knowing that that was going to happen, and I was the one that wandered away from you, anyway.”

“Still,” she mumbled.

“Why don’t we just look through the papers I found?” you offered.

Em sniffled slightly before nodding. She moved to grab your backpack, though you don’t know when she took it from you.

“As touching as this is,” Sylus interrupted, “Next time you have a mission in the N109 Zone, just call me. Then we can avoid any further injuries.”

“I don’t need your help for everything, Skye! I can do my missions on my own!”

You halted for a brief minute, confused as to why she was calling him Skye, before you realized you weren’t supposed to know anything about this man.

You chuckled as you emptied your bag onto the small table between a pair of couches. “You say you can handle it, and yet we were ambushed.”

“See, kitten? Even your little friend agrees with me.” He smirked.

His smile dropped, however, as he walked over to the table. “What’s this?” He asked, picking up Frankenstein.

Before you could answer, Em jumped in. “The weirdest book ever!” Sylus only looked at her, urging her to go on. “It doesn’t exist! I tried to search it up because she was surprised I hadn’t heard of it, and boom nothing.”

Sylus hummed as he flipped through the book.

“ ‘I am malicious because I am miserable,’ ” he read. “ ‘If I cannot cause love, I will inspire fear.’ ” He let the words hang in the air for a few moments before letting out a low chuckle. “How poetic. I quite like this fiend.” You flinched ever so slightly at the word, and if Sylus noticed, he didn’t mention it.

Em sat next to you, flicking through files and documents as you tried to figure out what to do next. Sylus watched for a few minutes in silence, before taking a sharp inhale.

“Well, I suppose I’ll leave you Hunters to your mission. Wouldn’t want to interrupt.” Though he wore a wolfish grin, you could feel the tension that hid behind it.

You couldn’t feel, however, the pair of crimson eyes on you as you and Em gathered data for the next hour or so.

Sylus was very confused.

First of all, how did you know his name? What else did you know? Were you aware of his position in Onychinus?

Next, why did you flinch when he said fiend? The very title that adorned him in this life and the past.

You definitely knew more than you were letting on, but what was it exactly?

And further, why did he feel the need to be so gentle with you? He had felt no such need with anyone before, aside from Em, and even that took time. So what set you apart?

What confused Sylus the most, however, was what he saw when he looked into your mind.

He wasn’t surprised that you hadn’t noticed. You were very disoriented, after all, and he hadn’t entirely invaded your mind. Just a quick glimpse, just to check.

But the flashes he saw of another world, another life, left him scrambling for answers. What exactly you were hiding, Sylus wasn’t sure, but he intended to find out.

With a wave of his hand, he sent Mephisto into the field. He doubted you would notice him.

After all, what was so suspicious about a crow?

comments and reblogs appreciated! <3

masterlist

[mscherub]

Emotional Support Shrimp

A/N: cutely drops in this fic I’ve had in my drafts for months…I’m still working on the Idia request. AND FOR THE OTHER PPL WHO REQUESTED STUFF I SEE U, I’m just unmotivated…Writers block is kicking my ass 😞

Tags: A little dark, supposed to be funny, fluff, Floyd being a menace…

Warnings:

Floyd leech causes harm (when doesn’t he?)

Violence

mentions of injuries (random student, referee)

suggestive towards the end

Swearing

Honestly, when is money not always a huge feat for you? The day you finally get your allowance from Crowley, it’s gone within a minute from being spent on only a portion of needed items. Last week you ended up running out of tuna for Grim, and for the love of the seven you don’t wanna go through that again. Everyone knew of your situation, wasn’t very hard to see, but you weren’t the type to latch on to others and use them like a pay pig, but many offered which is a little concerning, anyways, to each their own, you suppose. You had your own values to follow, but you did appreciate what they were willing to do.

Azul knew quite fondly of your situation, using you as a “backup” employee for when one of the servers or dishwasher at the lounge decided to call off, and you usually accepted because, hey, money! He didn’t exactly trust you in the kitchen, mainly based off of the liabilities he could face since you didn’t even have birth records or anything that he could “ok” for you to work within that vicinity, but everything else was a great option.

The laborious shifts were no stranger to you after having taken up a position there so many times, you could say you were used to it by this point, and an even bigger achievement, used to the ways of the tweels, specifically Floyd. Yes they were unpredictable, yes they were scary when they wanted to be, yes they gave off mafia vibes, but they somehow “accepted” you, accepted, of course, being a very vague term to describe it. Maybe tolerate is a bit better. They didn’t seem to wish to cause harm or other masses of stress like they would just for funsies with other guys around campus, but if push comes to shove, you bet they’d have no doubt and chuck you under the bus in mere seconds, hence why you try and stay on their good side.

Technically they all owe you one in a way, especially Azul with his little overblot, but that’s something in the past for you at least.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Incident One: Ice Bath

“Prefect, go reason with him!” Azul barks out the command. You sigh and turn around from his office and go to find Floyd. A cycle that repeats itself. Free Therapist for Floyd is a good title…no, wait no. Doesn’t make sense. Plaything would be more appropriate. The thought makes you shudder and shake your head.

The click of the dress shoes on the ground, the clamor of people in the lounge, drowns out as your thoughts officially take over.

This time Floyd messed around more than he should have with people on Azul’s black list, and he may or may not have gotten carried away. So now you’re back on the hunt to find him after getting an earful from the boss himself, and hearing him and the troublemaker bicker in his office. Fun times here at Mostro Lounge. Why’d you choose to work here. Should have asked Mr. Sam if he needed any help…

The door to the pool is stuck wide open and once you peer your head inside you see Floyd swimming in circles angrily, the water rippling swiftly around his body.

“Floyd.” You call out. It’s almost akin to a gentle coo. Where did that gentleness come from? Whatever…

“Wanna swim, Shrimpy? I’ll promise not to drown you.” He stops and smirks. Ok. Stay away from the water. “Or if you came here to chat…we can see if I’ve got the patience for that right now.” He sighs.

“Azul—“

“I don’t wanna hear it. Quit your yapping and go swim around somewhere else.” His eyes narrow and his fins tense.

“Look. If you just got back to work then—“ you’re cut off again.

“Work is the last thing I wanna do right now.” He glares at you, but then eerily a smirk forms once he beckons you over. “You can cheer me up if you swim with me.”

“I have to get back to working too— and ok, never mind…”

He hoists himself up onto the tiled floor, half of his tail still swaying in the water. And then he pouts at you. It shouldn’t do anything to sway your determination to get him on track again, but it crumbles down those walls and you find yourself walking towards him.

“Yay! You do like me a little at least then, Shrimpy.” He giggles, and before you know it he grabs your wrist and slips back into the water, pulling you in with him.

It’s cold. OH IT’S SUPER COLD!

Thrashing your arms in the water you bob back up to the surface, your uniform hat drifting away to the other side of this might-as-well-be ice bath. This was a lot colder than you remember when you went down to the sea the one time…

“Hah! Cold? Humans are just so weak…” Floyd’s voice rumbles from behind you and his slick, slimy arms wrap around your soaked clothes that act as a second skin, yet barely do anything to keep the bite of the cold away.

“But you’re my Shrimpy so I’ll keep ya safe.”

His warmth is shared with yours now, but it’s not enough, unfortunately.

“Floyd…lemme outta here. It so fucking cold holy shit.”

He giggles at your misfortune and spins around a few times with you in his arms slowly.

His chin rests on your shoulder and a silence falls over you two. It’s not uncomfortable. But it’s short lived.

“Hold your breath!”

“Floyd, wait— No!!”

Bubbles spew out of your nose and you force your eyes open only to see mismatched ones gleaming with amusement.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“I can’t believe you two…the time spent, rather wasted, will be taken out of both of your checks. This is just unbelievable…” Azul groans. His hand runs down his face before he sets his elbows down on the desk and rubs his temples.

“Out of my office.”

The silence is loud as you two walk out, a towel wrapped around you and a sloppily dressed Floyd who was just earlier grumbling about having to drink that transformation potion.

“Do something like that again and…ugh…”

“Eh? I thought it was fun, Shrimpy! We’ll swim again soon for sure.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Incident Two: Plucked Petals

“Drag him back to work…” Again?

You heed Azul’s orders and you turn out of his office yet again, pushing open the door and heading on your way to search for the one and only…

He left midway through his shift. It had only been like 3 hours…and he already got “bored.” You’re just fed up with his excuses, and then you end up getting yelled at as well if you take too long. You need to get back on the clock, too, “be lucky I’m even paying you to go get him,” Azul says, “be lucky I even pay you in the first place,” Azul says. Ok…anyways.

Traces of Floyd are no where to be seen. He couldn’t have gone far in the span of, what? Five minutes? He had long legs, sure, but he—

“OFF WITH YOU’RE HEAD!”

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no. You knew who that was. Great. Now you had to calm down two people! Lovely…

You jog around the corner of the mirror chamber to the path way only to see Floyd with rose petals scattered about around him and a very angry riddle with his arms crossed in an exponential amount of annoyance and anger, as well as an unamused look.

“Oh-“

Riddles head whips in your direction and you prepare yourself for the onslaught of complaints…

“He broke a rule!” Riddle says, “He ruined my flowers,” Riddle says, “He came onto Heartslabyul grounds without invite and unannounced,” Riddle says. You had enough.

“Yea. He uh…mhmmm. I’ll take him back, just…uncollar him…” your finger points over to Floyd. He’s actively tugging at it and trying to crane his neck downwards so he can gnaw it off…is he ok?

“This is not the first time this has happened. I’ve let him get away with his actions one too many times. I shall send this matter to Headmaster Crowley now if you’d excuse me, Prefect. I have more pressing matters to tend to than dwaddle on a sorry soul who doesn’t know basic decency…”

“Riddle…I get where you’re coming from but Azul will soon have my head if I don’t bring him back and myself…so uh.” You sway on your feet.

He thinks for a moment. You weren’t untrustworthy, so maybe he could let this slide— just kidding, he’s Riddle. With a stern look and a dismissive tone, he makes up his mind and drags Floyd away to the main building.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“And now Floyd has earned a suspension?” Jade hums as he wipes off a table.

“From entering any other dorm besides his own, prohibited to participate in any club activities or work at the lounge, and now Azul’s making me work his shift and mine for at least a week…until his suspension is up.”

“My, my…I’d say it was deserved. As much as Floyd is held dear to me, he causes the outcomes with his actions. He finds them to be quite amusing, however, greatly so once you get involved.”

“Yea— wait…when I get involved? Is he doing this stuff on purpose?” Your hands perch themselves on your hips.

“That I cannot tell you.”

“Ugh…”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Incident Three: Balling

“What the fuck…” That’s all that leaves your lips once you step into the gym. People are chatting loudly and quickly and the only message that you got from Ace was:

Help. Floyd did sum shit. Tell him to get a hold and hopefully plan his words right so he doesn’t get a law suit

Safe to say you are fairly concerned. You push through the crowd of kids and find the familiar redhead accompanied by Jamil. Ace doesn’t let you speak one word once his eyes land on you.

“Ok, before you get all mad here, Prefect, you were the first one I decided to call cause uh…you know. You’re closer to the twins than anyone else really…” Ace attempts to reason with you but you’re entirely focused on something else. Someone else.

“Why is that guy passed out?”

The referee is surrounded by a few Sports med mages, all assessing the passes out form in the middle of the court. There’s a small pool of blood under his nose, which his nose is now plugged up with bits of gauze.

“Ok, yea. So…Floyd was given a penalty and he kinda hurled the ball at the ref…now he’s…” he motions vaguely to the motionless form. “Kinda knocked out. Probably has a broken nose. The look on the ref’s face was kinda priceless, though—“

Jamil smacks Ace and sighs.

“What?!”

“Floyd stormed off…” Jamil nods. That much is expected.

“Ok then…I shall…go find him.”

The suns setting. There’s a nice orange hue casted across the land. The setting would be really amazing to gawk at if it wasn’t for the task at hand. To find the culprit and ease him down from his hot headedness…you’re fine.

“Floyd—“

A hand grips your shoulder and turns you around. Face pressed against sweaty skin in under a second and you know who it is.

“Gross! Floyd!” His arms squeeze and, yep, don’t even try and breathe.

“That damn ref, you know? So sensitive! All I did was just trip someone…a couple times. RSA was kicking our asses again…just a tiny bit of foul play never hurt anyone…at least not too bad. Sports back in the sea were more fun!” His hold is steadfast.

“I once broke some poor guppies arm in a sport back home. Scuttle Ship. Fun game. And then I ripped his fins.”

“O-oh…ok…uh. On accident?” You struggle to keep your face from being muffled against his skin.

“Nah. Whole point of the game…whoever comes out less hurt is the winner.”

Oh…oh.

“Fun game…why are you here, anyways? Did ya come to watch the game? Hope you were gonna cheer for me.” His embrace, eases up.

“Uh, yea…and also I was worried…to see that you kinda left after what went down in the gymnasium…”

“Eh. He was a dumb ref like I said…”

You pause and clear your throat. “Your team needs you again…even id you’ll probably be benched.”

“Well then there’s no point in me going back. Plus. You’re better to hang around. I didn’t wanna play that game today, anyways…whaddya say we go scare some students walking around this late, huh?”

“Floyd…”

“Cmon.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Last shift of the week! Yay! You just gotta tough it out. Easier said than done. You’ll get your paycheck and then off to Heartslabyul to get Grim and then probably get force-fed some pastries by Trey which you’ll happily accept, and then back to Ramshackle.

“Jade, where’s Floyd? I need these orders for table 12, like now…” you huff as you shift the tray out from under your arm and place it down on the counter, looking back in the kitchen through the doubles doors that swing at their hinges. Articulating back and forth in a fluid motion.

“He got called into Azul’s office.” He hums as he idly writes down things on his notepad

“Again?” That’s just great news for you. “If I have to call him down again I might just quit for real this time.”

Jade doesn’t even turn his head at your words. There ones you’ve said before yet you’re still here.

“Always, he’s been slacking off, as usual.” He smiles. “I can go ask the cooks where the meals are if you’d like.”

“I’d…appreciate it. I need the tips from customers tonight so I need all the tables I can get. Thanks a bunch.” You sigh, leaning against the counter and pulling out your phone. You read a few of the messages sent to various group chats you were in, the first year group chat oddly talking about how Professor Crewel is, quote, “a kinky mf.” Yea, you’re just gonna put your phone away again…were they wrong though?

Jade comes back out carrying another circular tray, you straighten up and you take it off of him. “Thank you, Jade. You’re a financial savior for me.” You chuckle as you move your hand around on the bottom till it rests balanced on your palm.

“It was nothing, really.” He gives a small bow and goes back to his duties.

You head off again back into the seating areas, weaving through the crowds of people who were, for some reason, standing instead of sitting and ending up in your way. You make it over to your section and then over to the table, bending your knees a bit as you place the tray down on a smaller foldable table off to the side. A random plate is selected and you put on your happy face and act for the people sitting around in the booth.

“Here you are, the seafood bake, uh, then you, you got the lobster dish here…then you ordered the salmon, and then you ordered the snow crab! That’s it I believe? Does anybody need anything before I head off?” You clasp your hands together and look frantically around the table as you wait and watch for any of them to speak. You’re met with small shakes of their heads and soft sighs of no’s, taking the hint and giving one last bright smile before you nod and walk off.

Off in the distance, a muffled slam of a door is heard and you see Floyd walking out of Azul’s office, a grimace etched onto his face as he heads back into the kitchen and passes by Jade, who, just glares at him before he goes to finish his own tasks.

You knew what would happen next, Azul would find you, then make you “calm him down.” It was never something you liked mainly because it was putting your life at risk, which was ironic because Azul explicitly stated he didn’t want you partaking in any harmful activities, but whatever. It’s sadly another small side job that’s forced upon you just so Floyd can get back to work himself. All for money…

The other waiters grab dishes and scurry off, moving far away. The chatter and yelling within the kitchen dies down significantly, going quiet as pots and pans slam against the stove top, the only culprit of that being Floyd. You take one breath in before you go inside and pick out the teal-ish colored hair from the other bundles of students and walk over to him as calmly as you could. It’s better to do the things you know that you’ll be asked to do before they happen, so…you got this. And you’re only doing it because you know you’ll be asked to and totally not because you like Floyd maybe a little. That’s not it. Definitely not it. He’s scary why would you like him? Exactly. Anyways! No sweat! It’s just Floyd…that’s it! Just Floyd and no worries…everything will go swell and you’ll all be happy again! Maybe he’ll break a few ribs when he squeezes you but that’s nothing…you’ll just be magicked up later by the nurse mage and you’ll be just fine. Just fine. You’re sweating. Shit—

“Hey, Floyd. What happened.” You sigh with a slight pout on your face. He doesn’t even look at you, his face contorting even more into a look that said “leave me the fuck alone.” It was worth a shot…he usually found that to be a dumb look on you but I guess not today. Oh no. He’s royally pissed right now. Hopefully Azul didn’t sneak a waiver somewhere in that working contract you signed…

You straighten up and glance at the other chefs in the kitchen, all of them giving you questioning gazes. One in the back clasps his hands together and bows his head and— wait, is this guy really praying right now? Geez…

“Floyd…” you try again.

He works away harder at the random meal he’s cooking. The contents already looked charred…

“Don’t wanna talk, Shrimpy,” He huffs, “Go.” He says gruffly.

“I’m not gonna go—“

“I’m busy! Since Azul wants me working my fins off then you know what, I’ll do just that!” He spits out. It sounds threatening, filled with warnings, but before you could try one last time to get him to ease up, one of the students bumps into him, sending the dishes they were carrying flying into the air. The guy stumbles back, food splattering on the floor and plates shattering, Floyd acting like a brick wall and staying still as he slowly turns to look down at him. No words are exchanged. None at all. He simply dumps the hot oil and food that he had into the pan onto him.

Screaming, yelling, a lot goes on within the span of a few seconds. Azul comes in, Jade follows behind, other waiters peer into the kitchen to see what’s going on.

You take the initiative and you grab Floyd’s arm while he’s distracted and take the pan from out of his grasp and set it back down on the stove. You turn the burner off and you look back at him, then to the, now injured, guy upon the floor.

“Floyd. This is coming out of your check, and you’re banned from the kitchen.” Azul comes over quickly with an aura of anger. Floyd rolls his eyes and pushes past him to walk out.

“Prefect, go after him, will you? I don’t need him hurting another person who doesn’t deserve it.” Azul waves his hand at the situation. It was common so no one really took much time to dwell on it since Floyd partook in these types of activities just to pass the time. A common occurrence if you will.

Azul gives you one last stern glance to tell you again silently to go do what he had asked of you. You reluctantly nod and you go out to search for him. It’s absurd, really, having to do all of this. It’d be better if they left him alone to blow off some steam, but no, you have to go calm him down, you have to be the one to watch him like a helicopter parent.

You go to the tweels shared room and knock on the door. It was a just a guess he’d be in his room, but you silently hoped he wasn’t so you’d have some time to avoid either a life or death situation. You liked your life at least a little now…

Silence. You’re met with silence. Ok, try again, just once more to make sure he’s not in there. You knock again, a little louder this time and announcing yourself to being there. And silence again. Maybe fate is helping you out today…

“Floyd? Are you in there?.” You’re about to knock one last time when the door is quickly ripped open, an angry Floyd peering down at you. Brows furrowed, eyes squinted and dark, glazed over with frustration and anger, a scowl etched into his lips. Yep…and here you were, standing in front of him, practically helpless and without anywhere to run because you know he’d find that a fun game and catch up to you in a second.

You straighten up under his gaze and clear the lump in your throat that you didn’t even know formed.

“Hey…”

Floyd doesn’t make any noises, instead opting for what he likes to do when he’s this mad, and wraps his arms around you and squeezes tight. He brings you into the room and closes the door with his foot, going over to his bed and taking you down with him as he nuzzles his cheek against yours.

You try and squirm out of his arms but he’s insanely strong and the efforts you make are useless. You’re already waiting for your back to make a popping noise…

“Floyd— heyyyy…let me go.” You murmur out as you struggle to breathe with all this extra weight on top of you.

“Shhh, Shrimpy. Quiet.” He mutters. He moves his face to the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning against the side, which in turn causes you to tense up. What the fuck is he doing. You try to shrink away, but that was a mistake because he squeezes you against him even more.

He brushes his lips over your pulse point and smirks, but it quickly fades away as he opts to keep his face pressed up against your neck, not doing anything. He likes to feel your heart racing…

“Always trying to make me feel better, Shrimpy…” he sighs. “And you do…meh, sometimes…you don’t have to listen to Azul…but ya do. Starting to wonder if you just like being around me…” he nuzzles into you again, teeth grazing your skin.

“For one, I kinda have to listen to Azul…” you whisper. “I can’t be like you with him. Plus…I don’t mind you all that much since—“ he squeezes again. For sevens sake. “Ease up! I don’t mind you, yea…you’re fine to be around. That’s it.”

“Liar…” he chuckles. “You’re so silly…” he pulls his face up and looks at you, his mismatched eyes calculating, inspecting that gaze in your eyes towards him.

“You’re stupid, too…for liking someone like me. But it’s so cute, Shrimpy.” His lips quirk up into a smirk and he bears his razor sharp teeth to you. “I could easily hurt you, Shrimpy….”

“That sounds vaguely like a threat but…you don’t really hurt me— not ever actually. Scare me? Yes…but not hurt.” you murmur. His smile softens a bit and he nods, moving his forehead to rest against yours. If you weren’t already flushed, you were now.

“No…but I could, that’s the point.” He giggles before moving away again. He was teasing. “Do you know why I don’t?” He hums as he sits up, letting his arms unravel from around you. He looks out the window connected to the sea. You sit up as well, taking in a well deserved breath of air.

He’s silent for a moment, watching as the fish pass by without a care. Your uniform is all wrinkled now, great—

“Cause I’d be kinda pissed off without you around, y’know. And not just how I usually am…I’d be mad all the time.”

You stop. He stops and looks at you. You make very awkward eye contact with him, but both of your gazes soften. That’s sweet of him in his own way. Quite frankly you didn’t think he was capable of that since it’s not usually like him. Why is your heart beating a bit quicker now? This time it’s not so much out of stress or the fear of being eaten alive, Floyd looks fairly sated so…what’s this feeling for…

“What do you think of me, hmmm?”

You don’t know how to respond to that. Does he actually care what people think? No, not really. You see that all the time with how he even talks to teachers. But if you had to say, the few people he listens to, slightly, are Jade, Azul, and…you. That doesn’t mean anything! This is an odd question coming from him. “I think you’re…ok. Being around you is fun sometimes…uh…I don’t really know.” That’s great. You probably ticked him off more…

“Just ‘ok’? Ouch, Shrimpy…” he pouts as he looks at you. He inches his face closer to yours again, personal space being far out of the question at the moment. He looks down to your lips before smirking again and then locking on to your eyes.

“You just saying that cause you’re hiding something?”

That’s not…you weren’t, no. Definitely not. You didn’t really want to say how well he made you smile or laugh on days where you were down, or that he cared that much to make you happy again. Or whenever he’d always seem to find you to be his go to person to bug now for, well, everything he did.…you didn’t wanna say you liked getting him out of trouble, didn’t want to tell him you do enjoy being around him, he’d get all smug about it…and that’s it! Totally nothing else behind it. Nope.

“Be honest, Shrimpy. You like me? Cause I like you…for some reason.” He sighs. He moves closer again.

Kinda straight forward, no?

“What…huh?! WAIT WHAT?” you manage to stammer out. Floyd nods along to your words with an unimpressed look.

“I like you.”

“I heard you the first time!”

“Do you like me?”

“Ok…well…no! Wait…maybe? Yes? How do I even answer that right away?!” You’re freaking out and he’s enjoying it.

His smirk widens again and he laughs at you…this guy.

“See? Silly Shrimpy…” his arms lace back around you and his face is right in front of yours again.

Without taking anything else into consideration, Floyd pushes his lips against yours.

You don’t move, you don’t try and push him away, and out of all the times Floyd has ever given you a chance to stop him in any of his acts, you could tell this moment was one of them. His eyes are still locked onto yours, lidded and a smirk forming, gaging your reaction. His arms barely touch your body, giving you a chance to get the fuck out if you’d want to. But you don’t move away. You push your lips against his more and you flutter your eyes closed. Floyd takes the hint and he holds you again, though this time, it’s gentle.

After a moment you both pull away, a goofy grin across his face. “Hmmmm…” he giggles, “I feel a lot better now, Shrimpy. See? I’m bored now…cmon, let’s go somewhere and ditch that stupid work Azul’s got us doing…”

So! Wasn’t the best, yes, I know, but it’s something…

Also I feel like some parts from my courting fic for Floyd wiggled its way in here—

Master List

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[folkloure]

⭑.ᐟ roomates!pb&jj au

#1 - the one where they move in:

summary: Peter decides to trust Joaquin on a new apartment deal, despite Johnny being part of it. Bob says goodbye to his old friends and welcome to new ones.

warnings: swear words. friendly reminder that english is not my first language. please don't copy or repost anywhere.

By the time he finishes packing, Peter was starting to question his life choices.

He could just forget about the whole thing and go back to living with May, he thinks. He’s positive that the other guys would have no problem finding someone else to fill his place.

He remembers being so excited when Joaquin mentioned the apartment, with the dream come true of a cheap rent and a room all to himself.

“It’s perfect! You’ll see! My friend Bob has been living there for two years now, and his roomates are all moving out!" Joaquin completely ignored that Peter was trying to finish a presentation, talking and walking around the commonplace area in his dorm, sharing the good news. “Something about a new job in San Francisco that two of them applied for and the other one is tagging along, I guess. I don’t really know, but who cares? It’s perfect, all three of us can move in with him by the end of the semester!”

“Wait, wait. Did you say three?”

“Well, yeah…” Joaquin looked slightly embarrassed, like he was hoping Peter wouldn’t notice that. “You, me, and Johnny.”

“You have to be kidding!” Peter dropped his computer by his side on the couch, marching in Joaquin’s direction, making his friend step back a little. “I’m not gonna share an apartment with Johnny fucking Storm!”

“Dude, c’mon…”

“No! Doesn't he have a sister living in New York? Why can’t he just move in with her?”

But Peter knew why. It was the same reason why he wouldn’t just go back to live with May and her grumpy boyfriend, Happy. You don’t wanna start what you believe to be your life as a functioning adult living under the same roof of an older-but-still-quite-young relative and their partner.

“I’ll let you know that Johnny didn’t seem too mad about sharing his space with you…” Joaquin told him, smirking. A blatant lie. Peter knew that, he could actually hear Johnny's voice complaining if he thought about it too much.

But… he can’t deny that he could really use the place. And if Johnny did too, then so be it.

—

Bob didn’t know stress cleaning could be so effective.

With both doors open wide, he could just run from one place to another, bringing the new stuff he bought for Joaquin's friends. He wanted to make a damn good impression, and apparently flowers and brand new pillows for the blue couch Yelena and Ava left behind would be the way.

He still can’t believe how lucky he was, that not only would Joaquin move in, but also bring two friends with him.

Yelena was so stressed about a contract breach since she got the job in San Francisco, and even though Ava guaranteed they would figure it out, and Walker actually offered to lend her the money – the first time Bob witnessed him being genuinely nice to Yelena, by the way –, the only time she seemed relaxed was when he got off the phone with Joaquin, with the promise that his friend had it all figured out.

“He said they can all move in by the end of the semester… if you don’t mind waiting a couple more weeks, that is.”

“No, that is perfect, Bob!” Yelena got up, literally jumping from excitement. “I'll call them tomorrow to let them know I'll make it! Oh my god, I have to tell Ava!” she hugged him, lifting him off his feet in a strength he sometimes forgot she had, tiny human she was, before running to the other side of the corridor, crossing the next door without even closing theirs first.

Walker got up from his own place at the kitchen table, closing the door.

“That means you’re going with Lena and Ava too, right?” Bob said, pulling a chair and sitting next to Walker

“You're not getting rid of us any time soon,” Walker grabbed Bob's shoulder, squeezing it a little too tight “But yeah, I guess I am. Are you sure you’ll be okay by yourself?”

“I'm not gonna be by myself” he smiled at his friend. Months of a rough patch between them at the very start, now he can’t believe how much he’s gonna miss Walker too. “It’s gonna be fun having Joaquin here. We grew up together, you know?”

Walker hummed, and Bob kept going.

“We've been friends since middle school, actually. and I haven’t seen him in like, 3 years I think?” Bob tried to think of the last time he saw his best friend, and the memoriy of their last shared Christmas dinner with their moms comes up his head “I miss him quite a lot, actually.”

Bob's memories from that conversation were interrupted by loud voices coming out of the elevator.

“Bob?”

“Here!” Bob jumped from the blue couch, running towards the door and throwing himself on Joaquin, hugging him. “Oh my god, hello!”

“Dude! It’s been so long!”

“I know!” They both stepped back, looking at each other up and down before hugging again. “It’s so good to have you here!”

“Thanks, Bob” Joaquin turned to Peter and Johnny's direction, both just staring at them “This is Peter and Johnny, my friends from MIT!”

Peter was the first to grab Bob's hand, shaking it excitedly and dropping his bags in the process “It’s so nice to meet you, I'm Peter. Peter Parker!”

Johnny was much more put together, Bob could tell. He calmly switched his bag to a different hand, giving Bob a quick handshake and nodding his head “I'm Johnny Storm, hi.”

“Alright, let me show you the place, here!”

Bob turns to the door and signs for them to enter, and it shocks him for a second how fuller the apartment looks with four men in it. It dawns on him that this is what life's gonna be like for the next year, and he’s quite content with it.

notes: ahhh! i’m so excited! this is my first time ever doing something like this and i hope it’s okay! ! also, i wanted to say that i sort of plan on writing a reader character into this au, but i’ll take some time for me to proper build the story and their friendship, so it’s gonna be just the four of them for a while! hope you don’t mind <3 anyways there’ll be time for me to talk more about it later, thank you so much for the kind responses i got from my previous posts! let me know what you think! :D you can read more blurbs in my masterlist !!

[cutestcouch]

SPOILED

A Oneshot ⭑.ᐟ

James Kelly x reader

Warnings: fluff, cuteness, fingering at the end, squirting if you squint, tiny bit of praise.

Dividers not mine! Credits to @princessantisocial (won’t let me tag :(( )

Proof read ! Feedback is appreciated

Work had really been kicking your ass lately, you’ve come home exhausted everyday for nearly two weeks. And James hated to see you work yourself into the ground like this.

It was a very dull Friday, walking into the house and sluggishly kicking your shoes off. You were prepared to clean and cook dinner.. but it was suspiciously clean already.. odd?

Walking into the kitchen in confusion, you saw James with bags of takeout. ‘ What are you doing??’ Eying him suspiciously ‘ What do you mean? I bought dinner’ he shoved a fry in his mouth, seems like he showered already.

‘ Yes.. but you cleaned the house too..’ you were getting skeptical ‘ Okay..? I can clean the house’ he replied in confusion, shrugging.‘ Well yeah but you only really clean it when you did something and wanna apologize for it.’ You looked around the kitchen.

‘What— that was like one time’ James retorted but you cut him off. ‘ Yeah so what did you do now-‘ then he cut you off ‘ Nothing! I didn’t do anything, relax would you? Now c’mere’

You sighed, walking over and standing in front of him. He pulled you in, wrapping his arms around your waist. ‘..So why did you clean? ‘ looking up into his blue eyes, accepting the fry he put in your mouth. ‘ You’ve been tired.. wanted to take care of you today.’

‘ oh.. that’s- thats really nice of you.. but where’s Mallory?’ You hummed up at him ‘ Dropped her off at your moms an hour ago, she’ll be there all weekend.’ He smiled, kissing your nose gently.

You two ate dinner, which was your favorite type of Mexican takeout. But James, being the oddball he was- ordered a burger and fries instead of the actual Mexican food.

When the both of you finished eating he cleaned up and took you into the bedroom. ‘ Get naked’ he instructed, lighting a few candles. ‘ oh yeah? I’m liking this evening already..’ you made quick work of your shirt and pants.

James chuckled at your enthusiasm ,, ‘ Hold your horses sugar, we ain’t getting to those activities just yet..’ he murmured, kissing your temple. ‘ I’m runnin’ you a nice hot bath’ slowly smiling up at him ‘ A bath? That sounds heavenly right now..’ He hummed, ‘ I know it does, a good bath always relaxes you. I’ll even add the oils and stuff you put in mine.’

After waiting awhile you finally sank into the hot bath, instantly relaxing against the porcelain tub. This was exactly what you needed, your muscles loosened up in the water. Turning your head over to James who sat on a little stool.

‘ Thank you.. I really needed this..’ you hummed, ‘ Don’t thank me, gotta pamper my wife..’ he kissed your lips gently. ‘ My gorgeous wife, mother of my daughter, my soulmate, and my best friend.’ He smiled softly, genuine. It even made you tear up a bit.

He was washing your back, and it felt amazing. The sudsy towel rinsing away the dirt and the stress work gave you. This was so refreshing, his hands eventually got you nice and clean. Before helping you out of the tub, wrapping you in a towel.

Walking into the candlelit bedroom, there was a towel laid out on the bed. Looking to the side you saw the heating pad plugged in up under it, some oil nearby. ‘ what is this for?’ Turning to him, holding the towel up. ‘ Your massage sugar, now on the towel you go. Got it real nice and warm from the heatin’ pad.’

Laying stomach down on the towel, it was perfectly warm. Relaxing into it, closing your eyes and waiting for James to start. You could hear his movements, he turned on some nice relaxing music. Strolling over he crawled onto bed and straddled your thighs.

Pouring the oil onto his hands, he leaned down and worked it into your back— extracting a deep sigh from you. His hands felt amazing, just so big and warm. Kneading every knot and sore spot with practiced ease, and you just melted into the bed.

‘ This feels so good..’ you mumbled, completely on cloud nine right now. Eyes fluttering when James kneaded your shoulders, applying the perfect amount of pressure.. ‘ I’m glad it feels good darlin.. you’re so tense’

‘ Mhm…’ you mumbled out, feeling that familiar heat pool between your thighs. It felt so damn good, massages were your near favorite thing. James’ skilled hands smoothed down your back, working in on the muscles just above your ass.

‘ You awake baby?’ He piped up behind you, working down to your ass. Kneading the round globes in his big hands, fingers squeezing and his palms cupping them. ‘ mhm.. yeah’ you had to stifle a moan, hoping he didn’t notice.

His oil clad hands went lower and lower, your pussy was throbbing at this point. But you didn’t wanna ruin it.. not now anyways. His hands massaged your thighs, working them against his hands. He hummed before trailing it up, index finger slowly going down your soaked folds.

‘ Wow.. you’re so wet already baby.. is this for me?’ He smiled behind you, finger tracing around your aching hole.. dipping it in before pulling out. ‘ uh huh.. it’s for you..’ letting out a soft moan at his finger teasing your poor hole.

He chuckled lowly. ‘ I know it is baby.. I know it is..’ his thick index finger slid in to the knuckle, pulling a gasp from you. ‘ That’s it.. want another finger in this greedy hole don’t you? Hm?’ Before you could open your mouth, his middle finger was already sliding right in beside the first one.

‘ Nngh..’ you breathily moaned, hole clenching around his thick fingers. They started to thrust deeper, scissoring you deliciously. ‘ Mmph.. fuck..’ your hips wiggled, but his other hand kept you in place.

‘ that’s my girl.. feels so good don’t it?’ His third finger slipped in, making your eyes flutter shut. Picking up the pace, they curled against that special spot. God the sound was disgusting, noisily squelching around his fingers. ‘ Mm, this pussy is loud tonight huh? Just how I like it..’

‘ Mhm.. feels so good Jamie..’ releasing a high pitched keen as his thumb found your puffy clit, rubbing relentless circles on it. Fingers roughly fucking into you, your pussy was sucking them in greedily.

‘ There you are.. gonna cum for me sweetheart? You know you can do it..’ His voice murmured behind you,, fingers speeding up and repeatedly hitting that spot. His thumb was relentless on your clit, and you felt the rush go down your spine.

‘ Nnnghh.. I’m cumming I’m.. fuck..’ you choked out a moan, gushing all over his fingers. Your eyes rolled back, hole clenching around the digits. ‘ Fuck yeah.. that’s a good girl.. makin’ a mess on me like that..’ his fingers continued their abuse on your hole, prolonging your orgasm until you went limp.

‘ You did so good for me sugar..’ he extracted his fingers from your weeping hole, watching the clear substance drip down onto the towel. Licking his fingers clean, he hummed. ‘ Tastes even better..’ leaning down and kissing your spine.

He leaned over to see that you fell clean asleep, relaxed and content as can be. It’s refreshing to see that soft expression, instead of the hard one you came home with everyday.

Cleaning you up and tucking you in, he pressed a kiss to your temple. ‘ Sweet dreams baby..’ He chuckled while pulling away,, ‘ You’re so damn spoiled.’

Taglist: @speaknow-sw @ysrjune @moonlightkb @hearts4sammonroe @amiratheangel @madsluvsdilfs @alealuvshayden @loliskywalker @haydenchristensenisbae

I hope you liked this ! It was originally gonna be a Drabble but I accidentally made it long haha.. and it seems rushed and I don’t know why but it wasn’t intentional, so I’m sorry about that. But let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist ! Love you and thanks for reading <3

[lolana101]

Hiiiii! Pretty pretty please make the timebomb x reader smut??? I'm addicted. Pleeeeeease make it fluffy smut I BEG 🧎‍♀️

FIRST TIME

— feat. ekko (league of legends)

— cw: 18+ , kissing, grinding, light smut, kinda unserious, fluff

he’s been acting weird, throwing stuff at you, jumping when you simply graze his shoulder. he acts like your touches are poisonous, and he almost treats you as if your a dream.

he’s staring at you, again, the soft brown of his eyes nervously staring at your lips. usually he’d just kiss you. he’s been nose deep into his study’s and projects recently, him and heimerdinger. atop of the bars roof, you lean against ekkos shoulder as his eyes quickly slip back to the trinket in his hands.

you climb into his lap, forcing him to stare deep into your eyes. his eyes shrouded something deeper.

“what’s up with you?”

you spoke quietly, holding onto his cheeks so he wouldn’t look away from your stern, waiting gaze. you pinch his cheek, eyes lowering as you lean closer.

“easy, easy- i’m fine.”

he lies, smiling nervously as your nose bumps against his. his hands drop the trinket, slowly moving to grasp at your waist, slowly kneading at the flesh before stopping.

“is this okay?”

he asked softly, staring up at you. his tone hesitate.

“you’ve done it before, silly.”

“..i have?”

he quips back stupidly, before chucking to himself and looking off.

“i’m joking im-“

you kiss him softly, you’ve done it before, but for ekko it’s the first time. i mean, you don’t know that he’s currently in another universe where you might have murdered him if he even tried to touch you. your lips are like pillows against his, pillowy and addicting. he didn’t want to let up from them.

the grasp on your hips tightens, his eyes fluttered closed as he lets out a soft moan against your lips. he try’s to kiss you back, messily swiping his tongue on your bottom lip.

he want to slip just a small peek, his hooded eyes staring at your closed ones. you looked so calm, peaceful. his fingers thread under your shirt feeling on the soft bare skin, slowly bumping his hips up to yours.

did you like that? he could feel you smiling against his lips. he lets out a soft breath, feeling your lips trail over to the corner of his mouth, then his chin.

“…i-um..”

he fumbles over his words, his voice barely audible.

“want me to stop?”

“no- no.. please don’t. just..”

his words trail, his finger hooking over the belt hooks of your pants.

“act like it’s the first time.”

he murmurs, pressing his lips back onto yours. you can feel your stomach churning. something’s different about him, he’s guarded but then he’s not. he handles you like glass, afraid you’ll break.

he’s not truly your ekko.. or maybe something happened. whatever it is, you just want to make him forget.

“only for you love.”

he chucked, smiling against your lips.

i hope you guys liked it!! i’ll finish the second one tmr!!

tag list: @alonia-olivia @shiroisotto64 @sunny023idk @bbybubbles @throwmeawayyyy @keeiiiozz @willowcxmilee @redvleanli @st-444-rgirl @sonaya101 @fullcreatorbeard @moonymuses @archdonaldson @jaymiwrld @mitsuki3123 @hobieeeloverrr @napbatata @brova @bellybuttonbooks @girln1ghtm4re @zmbiecvntlala @appalachianwitchneva @luvcexe @gremlinartstudio @maliyuhh @afrospider r @anartssw @moonlight-dreamer04

ty for reading!!

[sttoru]

I was listening to 7 rings earlier and saw that post and my head immediately went to older bf suguru or satoru 😋

why not both hehe

tags; older bf!satoru/suguru x female reader (seperately). age gap (reader early 20’s, them early 30’s). suggestive. cult leader suguru yum. reader is depicted as innocent. nicknames ‘princess, sweetheart’.

GOJO SATORU

“satoru, are you. . sure? i mean it’s a lot of money and stuff,” you pout at your lover as he sits down on the comfortable chair in front of the fitting rooms. you’ve tried out a couple things by now—all which satoru has approved of. he recommends you to buy them all, but you’d feel guilty for agreeing. it’ll cost him a fortune.

satoru chuckles and leans back, manspreading with his hands limply resting on his thighs. he looks you up and down without an ounce of shame, “mhm. i’m completely serious when i’m telling ya to get ‘em all, princess.”

your shopping bags are piling up more and more. satoru bought you all the things you said you liked. or if he thinks a piece of clothing suits you nicely, he takes the initiative to buy it. the older man doesn’t look twice when handing the employee his black card.

“c’mere,” satoru gestures for you to come closer once the employee leaves to pack your purchases. he pulls you onto his lap the moment you’re close enough.

his hands run up and down your curves—feeling up the material of the dress you’re currently wearing. the sorcerer cannot wait until you’re home with him. he’ll have you give him a special fashion show with all the pretty lingerie he bought you.

satoru grins at the thought. your little squirms and whines of being ‘too sensitive’ makes him want to tease you even more. he doesn’t care if he’s in public or if anyone sees you; you’re all he focuses on.

“i jus’ wanna spoil my sweet girl—take care of her like she deserves,” the white-haired sorcerer whispers. a lingering kiss on your shoulder makes your breath hitch. he chuckles at your adorable reaction.

satoru holds you down on his thighs, hands firmly placed on your waist whilst he leaves kisses on your exposed skin. he’s got all the money and time in the world—all which he’s spending on his lovely girl.

“everything is yours. tell me what you want and i’ll buy it for you, baby. there’s no limit, ‘kay?”

GETO SUGURU

gentle fingers play with the strands of your hair. you lean into the touch, not really caring that people are staring right at you and your lover.

“your hair looks gorgeous like this, sweetheart,” suguru smiles sweetly. his legs are trapping you against him. your back and his chest touch—your head leaning on his shoulder. he’s completely got you under his spell with the way he’s holding you.

suguru had given you his card earlier and told you to spend it however you see fit. he would have gone shopping with you, though he unfortunately has to help a couple people who swear that they’re cursed.

he was still busy when you returned from your little trip. you didn’t want to bother him when he was working, but suguru excitedly invited you into the room once he spotted you. he wasted no time settling you on his lap and asking you all about your recent purchases.

“s-sir, could you please respond?” the shaky voice of a man snaps you out of your bubble. your gaze moves towards the poor citizen who’s groveling before suguru, the clear presence of a curse gnawing at his back.

suguru’s sweet attitude drops the moment that lowlife interrupted his time with you. his eyes darken and his grip on your hand tightens, showing just how much he’s holding back from murdering that man in cold blood.

he doesn’t want to scare you—no, he’d never kill someone in front of your eyes. he doesn’t want to taint your innocence like that.

“silence,” suguru’s sharp voice causes the man to shriek before he quiets down. a second passes before you feel your lover’s hand on your jaw, guiding your face back to his. the tender look in his eyes and the soft smile on his lips instantly returns.

suguru’s other hand slowly traces the diamond necklace around your neck, “where were we again. . . ah, yes—tell me what else you got, darling. i want to hear it all.”

[frutigerfischl]

Heyyyyy

Saw your post about wanting some requesting some arcane stuff and I’m so down bad for some jinx stuff 😫😫

Could you pretty pls do a one shot for a jinx and a fem reader where theyre enemies and they have a steamy makeout sesh I am so in love with enemies to lovers😍😍

YOUR KISS AND I WILL SURRENDER

⌗ SONG┆the sharpest lives ★ ₊ ˚⟡

⌗ TAGS┆wlw, fem reader, enemies to lovers, making out, tension, gayness to the max, dominant reader, bratty jinx, violence (nothing too graphic) ★ ₊ ˚⟡

⌗ NOTE┆jinx is my favorite character THEM FOR REQUESTING HER OMFG 💙💙 I loved writing this it was so fun!! (Song doesn't have much to do w the fic, I always link the songs my fics are named after), I AM NOT GREAT AT WRITING MAKE OUT SESSIONS SO BARE W ME ★ ₊ ˚⟡

The mission was already a disaster.

Jinx, of course, had made sure of that.

You crouched behind a stack of rusted shipping crates, fingers tight around the grip of your pistol, ears ringing from the explosion she’d set off not ten minutes ago. Smoke curled through the air, cutting visibility to hell, while muffled shouts and the clang of boots echoed from the far side of the docks. Whoever ran this operation wasn’t going to let you or Jinx leave without a fight.

If only you were working together instead of at each other’s throats.

“Nice job, powder-keg,” you muttered under your breath, shifting your weight as you scanned for movement.

“Wasn’t my fault you tripped the silent alarm!” came her sing-song reply, disembodied and maddening.

She wasn’t far, judging by the faint static of her comm. You swore you’d smash it the second you caught her. “You blew the damn shipment before I got to the vault, you twitchy lunatic!”

A laugh, high and sharp, cut through the haze. “You’re welcome. What can I say? Big booms make big fun.”

Your jaw tightened. Typical Jinx. You weren’t sure why you’d ever thought stealing from Silco’s warehouses would go unnoticed. The moment she showed up, the job became less about money and more about survival—keeping up with her shit and staying one step ahead.

Somehow, she always made it personal.

Another explosion rattled the air, closer this time, and you ducked as the force slammed against the crates. Sparks danced in your vision as a blur of color—blue hair, shredded bomber jacket—darted into view.

You lunged.

Jinx barely had time to react before your shoulder slammed into her, throwing her back against a support beam. She yelped, twisting in your grip, but you pinned her wrists in place, inches from her flare gun. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you snapped, chest heaving, adrenaline pumping through your veins. “Are you trying to get us both killed?”

Her lips curled into a grin, wide and unhinged. “Only one of us, really. You’re just collateral.”

“Funny.” You leaned in closer, ignoring the way her pupils flicked down, just for a second, to your mouth. “Here’s the thing, sweetheart: I’m not dying tonight. And if you ruin another job for me, I’ll make sure you don’t, either.”

Jinx giggled, head tilting, her breath warm against your cheek. “Ooh, scary. Got a thing for threats, do ya? Maybe that’s why you like chasing me around.”

“Like hell I—”

She interrupted you with a headbutt. Pain burst across your skull, but you didn’t let go—couldn’t. Instead, you shoved her harder against the beam, forcing a startled gasp from her lips.

“Watch it, brat,” you hissed, voice dropping low. “You’re playing with fire.”

Her laugh faltered, blue eyes widening just slightly before narrowing again. “And you’re no fun. Bet you don’t even know how to lighten up.”

Something inside you snapped. Maybe it was the headache she’d just given you, maybe it was her smug grin, or maybe it was the way she kept testing you, daring you to cross the line.

You kissed her.

Hard.

Jinx froze for all of a heartbeat, her sharp edges softening under the sudden force of your mouth against hers. Then, just as quickly, she surged into it—biting, demanding, her teeth scraping against your bottom lip as if she wanted to take something from you.

Her hands twisted in your grip, but you didn’t let go, keeping her pinned as you deepened the kiss, rough and unforgiving. Your teeth clashed, lips bruising against hers as she arched into you, a frustrated sound escaping her throat.

“Is that all you’ve got?” she mumbled against your mouth, taunting even now, her breath hot and heavy.

“Shut up.” You bit her bottom lip in retaliation, drawing a startled, delighted moan. Your free hand tangled in the tattered fabric of her bomber jacket, yanking her closer until there was nothing but heat and chaos between you.

Jinx kissed like she fought—with reckless abandon, no plan, no care for the consequences. Her tongue slid against yours, teasing and fierce, and you hated how good it felt, how her chaos pulled you under like quicksand.

You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your forehead resting against hers. Her lips were swollen, cheeks flushed, and her grin was wider than ever.

“Aw, leaving already?” she teased, her voice breathless, taunting.

You smirked, brushing your thumb against her cheek in mock tenderness. “Don’t flatter yourself, powder-keg. You’re not worth the cleanup.”

Before she could respond, you pushed her back and stepped away, letting the shadows swallow you whole.

“Catch you next time, sweetheart,” you called over your shoulder, your voice dripping with mockery.

Jinx’s laughter echoed behind you, sharp and wild, but your pulse was louder, your lips still burning from hers.

[aventurineswife]

Aventurine with a reader who's usually not the type of person to express themselves as much (introvert lwk but not the shy and easily embarrassed kinda introvert more of the "I can't and don't wanna get out of bed and I'm hungry 24/7"). Except when reader is finally comfortable and stuff they're like. Idk how to explain it-

Like, for example, Aventurine would try and convince reader to do something like karaoke and reader is all shy and shit at first but how could they say no to him?

But once they do said thing, reader is KILLING IT. And Aventurine's just staring in awe.

Anyway make of that what you will (did I use that right?), this is just a thought that's been in my mind for a while.

(make sure to stay hydrated and take good care of yourself! ^^)

-🦇🌀 anon

“Hit Me With Your Best Shot”

Summary: Aventurine, ever the gambler, coaxes you into a karaoke night, expecting awkward charm at best. But when you finally take the mic, you deliver a jaw-dropping performance that leaves even him speechless. Beneath his teasing bravado, he’s caught off guard—and captivated—by a side of you he never saw coming.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Karaoke Night, Fluff with a Dash of Chaos, Hidden Talents, Reader Surprises Aventurine, Casual Domestic Vibes, Banter & Wit, Slow Burn Vibes (lightly implied), Found Comfort, Slight Role Reversal.

Warnings: Mild language, Brief mention of food (for those sensitive to food-related content), Teasing/banter-heavy dynamic, One slightly unhinged extrovert trying to seduce an introvert into having fun.

Aventurine's fingers tapped a lazy rhythm against the back of the velvet couch, eyes glittering under the moody lights. The karaoke screen blinked temptingly. His glasses were tilted just enough to let you see the gleam beneath them.

“C’mon, [Name],” he cooed, voice dripping with playful challenge. “What’s the point of life if you don’t risk the occasional vocal catastrophe?”

You were curled up in the corner of the couch, hoodie half-on, half-hugged around yourself like armor. Your stomach grumbled audibly—you were still contemplating ordering a fourth round of snack platters—but your eyes flicked up at him with mild disdain.

“No,” you muttered, mouth full of fries. “I’m not moving. I’m a lounge lizard. This is my final form.”

Aventurine snorted, standing smoothly and offering a hand like a game show host unveiling a prize. “Tell you what. You sing one song… I’ll personally make sure you don’t have to get out of bed for the rest of the week. I’ll arrange the snacks, the silence, the solitude—every hermit’s dream. All in.”

That got your attention. You eyed his hand suspiciously.

“…And if I refuse?”

His grin widened. “Then you’ll miss the chance to surprise me. And darling, that’s the greatest gamble of all.”

You groaned like the world’s most dramatic corpse. “I hate you.”

“And I cherish you,” he quipped, still holding out his hand. “So? Shall we tempt fate?”

You sighed, dragging yourself up like a reluctant ghost. As the intro to the song started—some classic anthem of rebellion he probably picked on purpose—you stood stiffly, microphone clutched like a bomb.

First verse: hesitant. Voice shaky. Eyes fixed on the screen.

Aventurine leaned back, fully expecting to be charmed by your awkwardness, maybe give you a smug little clap afterward and tease you with something vaguely flirty.

Second verse?

You unlocked.

It wasn’t shy. It wasn’t awkward. It was electrifying. Your voice hit every note with the ease of someone who had secretly sung this a hundred times alone in their room. You didn’t just sing—you performed. Head tilted back. Shoulders loose. One hand tossed in the air like you were on stage before a stadium of fans instead of in a cozy room with only him watching.

Aventurine’s smirk faltered.

Then vanished entirely.

He watched in stunned silence, jaw slack, as the person he’d half-dragged onto the stage absolutely devoured the chorus. You were alive in a way he hadn’t seen before—eyes gleaming, lips curved in a confident grin that didn’t hide, didn’t hedge. For once, you weren’t thinking about whether you wanted to move. You were in it.

When the final note hit, breathless and perfect, you turned back to him with a shrug and deadpanned:

“I told you I’m always hungry.”

He blinked.

Then burst into laughter—real, unguarded laughter that cracked through his usual silk-smooth tone like lightning across glass.

“You absolute liar,” he breathed, eyes wide with awe. “You hustled me.”

You plopped back onto the couch with all the regality of a worn-out cat, reaching for another handful of fries.

“Yeah,” you said, muffled through a mouthful. “But you liked it.”

Aventurine sat beside you, still visibly shaken. He stared at you like you were a trick deck he hadn’t accounted for—like you were his favorite kind of gamble. The kind that rewrote the odds halfway through the game.

He chuckled, softer this time. “You know… I think you might be more dangerous than me.”

You didn’t look at him.

But you smiled.

[seellove]

X Games // sukuna x female reader // Ski/Snowboard AU

Masterlist

// (3.5k words) // Explicit - 18+

\|/ AO3

You and your husband, Sukuna, visit your vacation home at your favorite ski resort for a ski and snowboarding trip. You get in an argument the first morning with Sukuna pushing your buttons like usual. However, you exact your revenge by teasing your husband throughout the day until he snaps and can't take it anymore.

Content Tags/Warnings Throughout Work: Human Reader and Sukuna, established relationship - marriage, explicit smut, skiing and snowboarding AU

Note about Resort Lingo: greens - the easiest ski runs / blues - intermediate level ski runs / blacks&double blacks - expert level ski runs

AN: It’s cold af where I live and everyone keeps going up to the mountains to ski lol, thus this AU was born

“Sukuna, can you not wear your boots in the house?” you groan as you see him appear in the doorway of your bedroom. He’s all bundled up in warm pants and a coat and those godforsaken snow coated boots that have surely tracked ice all through the house just to become pools of melted water. His rosy cheeks and watery eyes hint at the frigid weather outside.

“I was bringing our stuff inside. Do you really expect me to take my shoes off with every trip I make?” he retorts, dropping the bags on the floor as if to prove a point. You had gotten in late to your vacation house at the ski resort and had only brought the bare minimum inside to get ready for bed. 

“And I very much appreciate you bringing everything inside, however, now there are puddles all over the floor that I’m going to step in with my socks,” you cross your arms and sigh. You feel like you rehash this every time you come up here. 

You know your husband is stubborn and hard headed, but also devious enough to know what gets under your skin and do it anyways. You’ve been together almost 8 years now, married for the last two. You know how he is by now, and based on your past experiences, you know he’s doing it on purpose by the way his mouth curls up into a smirk. 

“I’ll try to be better in the future sweetheart,” he flutters his lashes jokingly before turning around to go back outside. 

You roll your eyes and go back to putting both of your clothes into the sleek dressers. You loved the furniture in the house, Sukuna had bought it just before you got married two years ago and let you lead the charge with the interior designer to fill the space. It was the perfect combination of modern and rustic, well suited for a multimillion dollar house in a high end ski town. 

You hear Sukuna’s heavy footsteps coming back to the room. You tense up at the sound of his wet boots squeaking on the hardwood floor. 

“Sukuna. Take. The. Boots. Off.” you snap at him.

“I am, I’m done now,” he shrugs before sitting down on the side of the bed. 

You clench your jaw at his response, shooting daggers at him from behind. You can almost feel the smirk he’s surely sporting knowing he’s riled you up.

“I put your clothes into the dresser by the door,” you mutter at him.

Sukuna whips around and beams at you. 

“Thanks babe, what would I do without you?” he winks, slicking his pink hair back. You want to slap those face tattoos right off his cheek at the moment. You love him to death but boy he aggravates you sometimes. 

You roll your eyes and head down to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. It’s spacious and modern, opening up to the living room with floor to ceiling windows, showing off the snowy Mountain View that seems to stretch on forever.

Then it happens, the cold wet feeling of water seeping through your sock. 

You’re gonna fucking kill him.

No, a better idea, get your revenge. You’ve got some ideas up your sleeve on how you can get back at him. You put on your best happy poker face and head back to your bedroom. 

“Honey I got you a cup too,” you place a mug down on the nightstand. Sukuna is in the process of pulling a tight black shirt over his washboard abs, the tattoos that snake down his stomach disappearing as he gets it situated. He’s annoying but fuck he’s hot. He’s gonna get even hotter in a little while…

“Thank you dear,” he smiles, tugging you towards him and planting a kiss on your forehead. He could be sweet when he wanted, which honestly is most of the time with you. You never would have married him if he treated you in the same cold and cocky manner as the rest of the general population. 

You run your fingers down his abs that are visible through the tight base layer, relishing the sharp ridges that indicate how shredded he is. You keep going until you find the bulge in his boxer briefs that is half hard, delicately running your nails along his clothed length before giving it a few good squeezes. 

“Oh fuck,” Sukuna hisses, pushing himself into your hand.

You release him as soon as he indicates he wants more, much to his disappointment. Turning away from him, you walk across the room to get into your ski attire. You make sure to strip down and stay naked for as long as possible, not bothering to look his way, bending down for longer than necessary to fish your clothes out of the bottom drawer.

You hear Sukuna clear his throat behind you, and now you sport your own hidden smirk, knowing he does that when he’s getting restless and turned on. You turn back around so your bare chest is facing him, glancing up momentarily to meet his wide eyes, hand palming himself through his boxers.

“Are you gonna finish getting ready?” you say nonchalantly as you pull your sports bra on, never breaking eye contact.

You can tell his jaw clenches by the way his cheek scrunches up towards his eye. 

“Seems like you might want to finish some other way,” his voice has deepened with that familiar lusty tone. 

Good, everything is going according to plan. 

“We had sex last night, I’m good,” you respond, remembering how in the middle of the night you’d had one of those sloppy, barely awake fucks that sometimes just happen at 3AM. 

“Hmph,” he grunts.

***

You are waiting out on the slope, poles keeping you steady while Sukuna is on the ground, clipping his snowboard bindings in. Another great thing about the house was that it was ski in ski out, something you never dreamed you’d experience until your successful and wealthy husband. 

You’d met him at this very resort during your sophomore year of college. Your college was only an hour away from some of the best ski resorts in the country, so you and your girlfriends had rented a house for a long weekend while some of your frat friends had rented one next door. 

As frat trips usually do, more people show up than anticipated, including Ryomen Sukuna, well known heartthrob with bad boy energy. You knew him as the cocky loud guy that pulled way too many women and did way too many drugs, “DO NOT APPROACH” practically plastered all over him.

Come to find out, he and you were by far the best at snowsports from your large group. You’d kept up with him on a black diamond with ease, proving to him that you could ride with him that day….and that night as you both opted to stay behind when everyone got dinner in town, riding him on the leather couch as he licked and sucked at your tits in his face. You’d snuck around everyone playing this game all weekend, blowing by everyone during the day as you raced down the mountain while Sukuna was blowing his load into you every night. 

It didn’t stop that weekend, and hasn’t stopped since, you were inseparable after that weekend and here you are, eight years later, getting ready to shred your favorite mountain together for the nth time.

You do a few warm up runs, riding the blues near one of the smaller chair lifts to get loosened up. 

You reach the bottom, aiming for Sukuna’s red and black helmet, easily recognizable from afar.

“Ready to go up to the blacks?” he asks. He’s already unzipped his coat, always getting hot when he boards. 

“Yeah,” you answer, making your way together towards the large chairlift to carry you further up the mountain. 

You get settled on the lift together and begin the ascent, your skis and his snowboard clacking against each other as they sit suspended below you both. 

You’ve got about 7 minutes until you get to the top, just enough time to move into your next phase of revenge. 

You take off your helmet and gloves, the cold air biting at your bare skin. Without warning, you slip your hand into his exposed waistband, grabbing his dick which hardens almost instantly under your touch.

“What the fu-ohhhh,” he moans as you start to slowly pump his cock.

You feel the sticky pre cum beneath your skin, slicking everything up, allowing you to more easily glide along his length. His head falls against the back of the chair, making it sway lightly.

You watch his eyes close and his jaw tighten as he starts to thrust himself up into your hand, meeting each stroke of yours. 

You keep up the pace, keeping an eye on how close you were to the end of the ride. Probably another minute. He jerks under your touch, a deep groan leaving his lips. 

“I’m close, keep going,” he utters, eyes scrunching up in the familiar way when he’s about to finish.

That is if you’d let him, which you don’t as you release him and pull your hand out of his pants. 

“Wha’? No, why’d you stop?” he whines as he whips his head up to look at you, a distressed look on his face. 

“We’re almost at the top,” you say innocently.

“We still have like one more minute,” Sukuna says in that same whiny tone. 

You are loving this. 

“My hand was cold,” you lie, “we can keep going on the next ride up.”

“Fine,” your husband huffs, pulling up the lap bar as you approach the exit point. You both ride off to the side so Sukuna can strap himself in. He lays down on his back, staring at the sky.

“Ready?” you stare down at him.

“Gimme a minute, you got me all hard back there and it won’t go away.”

You giggle, waiting silently next to him. After another minute or so he speaks again in his scratchy voice.

“Can you go over there? Or somewhere else? Not here?” 

“Is my presence keeping you bricked?” you joke, giving a sultry tone to your words.

“Fuck off….yeah it is,” Sukuna scoffs, averting his gaze from your eyes. 

You turn your skis downhill, carving your way down the slope until you hit a bend in the run, losing sight of your poor husband. 

You’re sure he’s going to lose it on the next ride up…

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sukuna ripping down the slope, kicking up powder into the air with each sharp turn he makes. He’s fucking good at this, there’s no denying it. He passes you by and you turn to follow him, both of you carving and weaving your way down the steep slope until you reach the bottom of the first run. 

“Let’s take this lift so we can get back up faster,” Sukuna tugs at your arm.

“No I wanna ride all the way back to the bottom of the mountain,” you say, standing your ground.

Sukuna sighs.

“Alright, let’s go.” 

He turns and leaves you behind, barely missing a child as he recklessly bombs down the hill.

You laugh to yourself as you follow him down, finding him already in line waiting for you at the big lift.

You go through the usual motions: Let the operator scan your pass, push yourselves out in front of the next chair, fall back into the cushion as the seat hits the back of your legs, pull down the lap bar, Sukuna pulls his cock out-

What the fuck? Not part of the routine.

“What are you doing,” you look at him as he pulls his helmet off and sets it next to him, his sweaty pink hair plastered to his forehead.. 

“Can you touch it again?” he’s almost pleading. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” you wink at him as you start on the next phase.

This time you lean down into his lap, Sukuna cursing through his teeth as he realizes what you are about to do.

You take him in your mouth, his skin warming up quickly as you take him all the way to the back of your throat. His dick is so big, even though you’ve sucked him off more times than you can count at this point, it still takes some time to adjust. 

The high altitude makes the air already thin and hard to breathe, his thick cock being down your throat doesn’t help. You bob up and down on his length, swirling your tongue around his tip each time you come up. 

“Fuckkkkk baby,” Sukuna groans as you feel his hand on the back of your head, not pushing down yet but insinuating he’d like it a whole lot if you did. 

Your steamy breath is clouding your vision with each deep exhale. Sukuna has his own cloud above him as he gasps with each thrust into your throat. He’s thrusting up into you again, babbling under his breath.

“Thas right baby, fuckin’ suck my cock, in fron’a all these people. Makin’ me feel so fuckin’ good, fuckin’ love you, holy shit,” he stutters as you feel him starting to harden even more. 

You keep going, knowing he’s getting close. He accidentally kicks his board against your skis as he starts to swell in your mouth. 

“Fuck fuck baby keep goin’, gonna cum ba-“

You pull off with a pop of your lips, his erection staring back at you almost as angry as your husband’s face. 

“Baby! What the fuck! No! Keep going!” Sukuna’s exasperated voice cuts through the low hum of the chair lift.

“It was getting hard to breathe, do you really want me to keep sucking your dick every time I feel like I’m going to pass out?” you use a similar phrase that he used this morning.

Sukuna’s mouth falls open as he glares at you. 

“Is this still about my boots in the house? You gotta be fuckin' kidding me!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stare at him with calm bold eyes, your poker face so on point.

“You’re such a fuckin’ bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he starts to pout. 

You are doing fucking cartwheels in your mind seeing him all hot and bothered. 

“We’re doing the trees this time,” Sukuna growls next to you. 

“Okay!” you smile.

You love riding the trees, the skill needed to anticipate three steps ahead of you to wind through the forest floor successfully is a fun challenge. 

Sukuna takes off immediately, sailing past the double black diamond sign without much of a glance. You follow him, following his path through the trees. This run is usually deserted, so challenging that it’s almost unenjoyable, so you are a little annoyed that Sukuna went this direction. 

Up ahead you see him slow down and seemingly fall onto his side.

Sukuna never crashes, so you are a little concerned at the sight. You quickly but safely make your way over to him. He’s out of his bindings now, he must have come unclipped.

“Are you ok?” you ask when you come to a stop next to him. 

He doesn’t answer you at first, instead pulling his helmet off, tossing it on the snowy ground.

“What are you-“

But you can only finish that thought with a squeak as he rips your poles out of your hands, jamming them into your ski bindings, releasing your boots from the skis.

He picks you up in one arm as if you weigh nothing, his other arm flipping his snowboard over and pressing it into the snow. 

“Had enough of your little antics on the lift back there,” Sukuna growls into your neck as he bites and sucks on the sensitive skin. You gasp at his dominant actions, clinging your body against him as he shoves his snowboard pants and boxers down to his knees. 

He doesn’t even seem to be phased by the sharp cold air, his one goal now to do the same to you. He doesn’t pull yours down as far, he knows you’re more sensitive to the cold.

“Oh my god,” you moan as he shoves two of his massive fingers through your folds and into your soaked cunt. The moans and cries coming from you slice through the still silence of the forest, no one close enough to hear the way he’s fingerfucking you in the freezing cold.  

He quickly withdraws from you, the sudden emptiness making you whimper.

“Gonna fuck you, ok?” Sukuna groans as he falls backwards onto his board, knees bent so you can lean your back against his thighs. 

The cold snow on your exposed skin shocks you as some gets kicked up from his weight hitting the board. 

“Sorry,” he says, quickly brushing it off of you.

He wastes no time lining you up with his massive cock, slamming you down on his full length until your ass hits his thighs.

“Oh my god,” you cry out at the sudden stretch as his fat tip bullies its way through your walls and slams your cervix. 

Sukuna’s eyes practically roll back as you clench around his length, fingers digging into your hips. He bites his lip as he starts to thrust slowly up into you, each drag of his cock along your walls making you shudder.

The slapping sounds of his skin against yours gets louder and louder as it echoes through the forest. The deep snow absorbs most of the sounds coming from your mouths as he fucks up into you with a punishing pace. Your whole body is at his mercy as you just let him have his way with you. 

Your eyes meet, his own softening as he gives you a smirk. You can feel the depths of his love for you, you can’t explain it, but the way he makes you feel like the most important thing in this moment says it all; the way his eyes look at you with such reverence, the way he keeps your body from touching the cold ground, instead sacrificing his own, the way he shallows up his thrusts when you grimace from the depth, he’s so attuned to you and your comfort always.

You start to feel his thrusts falter, becoming more frantic, losing the rhythm he’d set as he careens toward his release. 

“I’ll make you cum after this at the house,” he says through heavy breaths as you feel his cock harden even more inside of you.

“I’m not gonna cum anyways, too cold,” you chuckle, eliciting a knowing grin from Sukuna. 

“Figured, I’ll take care of you though,” he jokes, as he pulls you down to him, capturing your lips into a desperate kiss, devouring you from the inside as he shoves his tongue into your mouth.

You try to kiss him back, but normally it’s futile when he’s close like this. The man goes absolutely feral and loses all restraint when he’s at the brink of his orgasm, so you’ve learned to just go with it instead of attempting to assert any type of control over the situation.

He grips your hips like a vice as he pulls you down hard to meet a final deep thrust, spilling himself inside of you with hot ropes of cum. His pulsing cock throbs against your walls as he empties himself within you, groaning your name loudly. 

He finally stills, the fog thick from both your mouths as you try to catch your breaths. He peppers your face with soft kisses as he pulls you tightly against his chest.

“Holy fuck I love you. That was so hot,” Sukuna sighs, letting his arms fall to his sides, sinking into the snow.

“I love you too, I’m so cold though,” you shiver against his body. 

“Oh yes, right!” Sukuna sits up quickly, pulling himself out of you, his hot cum falling to his lower abs, the steam wafting off as it hits the cold air. He pulls your pants back up and takes off his coat, wrapping it around you.

“Better?” he asks as you fall back into the snow to face him. He’s practically sitting in the snow with his pants still pulled down to his knees.

“Yeah I’m fine, but what about you? Get your bare ass out of the snow!” you gasp at him, worried he’ll get frostbite or something.

“Babe I’m fine, I’m fucking sweating,” he chuckles as he pulls his pants up.

“Even worse! Let’s get back to the house and warm up.”

“Yes ma’am,” Sukuna jumps up and pulls you up easily with him. You both strap back in and quickly make your way back to the house. 

Stopping at the back door, you both remove your gear and lean it against the exterior wall. Sukuna unlocks and goes to open the door.

“Sukuna!!” 

“What?”

“Take your fucking boots off!” 

Masterlist

[brucebocchi]

Spring 2025 anime, Pt. 2: Just the Gems

hey, this post is also available on my ko-fi, so please check it out and consider tipping/donating as this is a labor of love. part 1 is here, and all of my seasonal reviews and end-of-year rankings are on my ko-fi and under my anime reviews tag, mixed in with my occasional musings. thanks!

Man. Good season for anime. I've got a lot to cover (and some new stuff to start watching for the summer season already), so let's not waste any time getting right into:

The Gems

Anne Shirley

Anne of Green Gables is a big deal in Japan. L.M. Montgomery’s seminal 1908 novel was a hugely influential piece of western literature in postwar Japan, even being added to the national school curriculum in the ‘50s. Prince Edward Island remains a popular tourist destination for Japanese fans of the book series and its adaptations. And most relevant to what we’re discussing today, a massively successful anime adaptation in 1979, directed by Isao Takahata and laid out by Hayao Miyazaki, would cause ripples throughout the industry as it became a foundational piece in the founding of Studio Ghibli. It’s Kaguya Shinomiya’s favorite anime! 

Another anime retelling of Anne of Green Gables probably wasn’t necessary, but in the age of animated pastoral escapism, Anne Shirley is welcome all the same. Slated for a two-cour run spanning the first three novels in the series, we’re rushed through the first book in just a fraction of the time the ‘79 anime took. We largely hit the same major beats: Unmarried siblings adopt a child, only to find out it’s a precocious redheaded girl instead of the boy they asked for, but she charms her way into their hearts, makes lifelong friends, and gets into a whole lot of wacky antics on her own whims. It’s fun, it’s heartfelt, it’s Anne of Green Gables. It’s considered a classic over a century later for a good reason.

Anne herself is beyond delightful. She’s an absolute force of personality and earnest to a fault; speaking like a literary heroine but meaning every single overwrought word. She’s bright and expressive, and she feels everything very deeply to the point of stubbornness. She falls in love at the drop of a hat and holds grudges for years. Her youthful misadventures are a blast, even when she gets herself in trouble and acts like it’s the end of the world every single time. Honoka Inoue put in tremendous work making such an iconic character her own.

I can appreciate that in an era where major anime releases can make splashes by aping older animation styles (and I’ll get to a couple of those shortly), Anne Shirley doesn’t let itself linger in Takahata’s shadow and insists on being its own thing. Even as a period piece (with perfect localization to boot; the subtitles are rife with rustic Victorian English) and as a remake of classic literature and anime alike, this show still slots in perfectly as a piece of modern iyashikei. The setting is lush and gorgeous (and as some quick research showed me, plenty faithful to the real-life setting in Cavendish), the color palette vibrant and saturated, and the character animation expressive and often intricate. 

So, uh, I haven’t read Anne of Green Gables nor watched the original series, so I’m in no position to comment on the heavily-abridged retelling of the books, but at no point did I feel like I missed anything. The book series depicts the entirety of Anne’s life beginning at the Cuthberts taking her in, and because the entirety of the first book is adapted into a scant ten episodes, months can pass in the blink of an eye. Watching her grow is immensely satisfying, just as I’m sure it felt for Matthew and Marilla, and watching them grow along with her (ESPECIALLY Marilla) has been my weekly salve every Saturday. The emotional core is extremely strong here.

This series is continuing into the summer season, and if it keeps pace without breezing too hard through the next two books, it has the chops to contend for anime of the year. There’s nothing wrong with returning to the classics, and Anne Shirley lives up to its namesake with similar aplomb.

Apocalypse Hotel

I had next to no interest in this show until I found out that CygamesPictures was animating it. If the studio that gave us Bang Brave Bang Bravern last year and secured the rights to adapting contemporary manga hits like Kagurabachi and The Summer Hikaru Died was investing its parent company’s gacha money into another original anime, I had to see what was up. 

Holy shit.

Over a century after humanity evacuated Earth to escape an airborne virus that threatened to eradicate all primate life, the Gingarou Hotel in Tokyo’s ritzy Ginza district is humming along. Overseeing the hotel’s day-to-day is Yachiyo, a humanoid concierge robot taking over as the acting-acting manager in the stead of the proprietor who fled to space 130 years ago. The massive hotel’s robotic staff has dwindled down to single digits, but Yachiyo is more than up to the task of overseeing the most minute details, from amenities to upkeep to offsite duties, in hopes of greeting the first guest in over a century. And she’s absolutely sure it’s gonna happen. Tomorrow does eventually arrive, though, in the form of a bizarre intergalactic traveler, who opens the door to a new possibility: If humans won’t be patronizing the hotel anytime soon, might as well open it up to the extraterrestrial. A family of tanuki dickheads soon make the Gingarou their (literally) shitty den, and after Yachiyo loses it on a guest for the first time, they make amends by helping make it the best hotel in the galaxy.

As silly as it is from the outset, the first episode of Apocalypse Hotel beat my ass on an emotional level. Watching Yachiyo carry out the same menial routine, day after day, in the hopes of seeing someone that may never arrive filled me with a profound existential sadness. There's a sort of hollow melancholy to it all, struggling to maintain normalcy on an abandoned earth, just going through the motions, and for nothing. It felt like watching a time-lapse of Hachiko waiting at Shibuya Station for an owner that would never return. I was reminded, as I often am, of NieR: Automata; seeing synthetic life carrying on on a ruined Earth in the image of humans that have all but abandoned it. A neverending proxy war is one thing, but seeing Yachiyo remove an untouched tablecloth and re-tuck the sheets on a bed that’s gone unoccupied for over a century just tore my heart out. As the series goes on, she continues to try to actualize the owner’s vision for the Gingarou, countless years after his all-too-certain death, even trying to carry out impossible tasks like singlehandedly building an onsen in an area that may not even have a natural spring. And for what?

There is both joy and melancholy to be found in this, though. What begins as an exercise in futile patience grows over an unknowable timeline into a rumination on the virtues of said patience and the beautiful things that can come from it (namely whiskey). Because the cast is composed of robots and barely-aging intergalactic beings, decades and even centuries can pass in the blink of an eye. Across this span, though, the only constant is change, and amidst an infinite universe and a seemingly infinite (and occasionally inconsistent) timeline, there is no end to what this show can bring; not just a galaxy or two’s worth of undiscovered life, but unexpected kinds of happiness and grief as well. Loss is inevitable, but so is new life, even when humans are long gone. As she gets further outside of her comfort zone beyond what she was programmed to handle, Yachiyo finds herself acting much more human; she can lose her temper, resort to violence, and even experience an existential crisis, as we all do. As it turns out, though, these were all Easter eggs embedded in her programming, and each time she finds herself doing something a service worker frequently does (like drinking the aforementioned whiskey) or wishes they could do (like punching a customer), it unlocks a cute little extra program in her system, like spraying confetti or turning her into a hot babe.

This juxtaposition of the wistful and the absurd makes Apocalypse Hotel one of the most unpredictable shows I’ve ever seen. I was a fool to think Cygames had run out of “are you fucking kidding me” moments after Bravern, because this show threw curveballs at me week in and week out. It’s almost obnoxiously creative, and there’s little I love more than when you can tell that everyone involved went “oh, right, we can do whatever the fuck we want here.” One week could bring a completely left-field action setpiece, a bizarre romantic tease in the next, maybe then a tense cat-and-mouse thriller, and then you’re reminded at the worst possible time that the emotional blows weren’t relegated to the premiere episode. Hell, the ending of the show had me simultaneously laughing and crying, the latter mostly because I was genuinely sad to see it end. 

With a limited permanent cast, Yachiyo and the tanuki daughter Ponko absolutely own this show. As an apology for her family being a pack of shitbirds, Ponko offers to help out Yachiyo in her management duties around the property, and she quickly becomes an indispensable part of the Gingarou and the show itself. For as much of a genki goober as she is, Ponko is there for Yachiyo in her best and worst moments, and Yachiyo is there for Ponko in kind. They bounce off of each other perfectly, and I would gladly watch six more seasons of just those two if that were ever possible. I would have never guessed a friendship between a service gynoid and a Bkub-faced tanuki child would move me as much as it did. Their respective voice actors are on point as well; Saho Shirasu is a revelation as the even-keeled but unpredictable Yachiyo, while Sumire Morohoshi (Emma in The Promised Neverland, Misaki in Maid Sama) perfectly embodies Ponko’s chipper but chaotic temperament. And with the settings, stakes, and subject matter constantly changing, they are always game to adapt to literally any situation.

And on a similar note, this show sounds terrific. Yoshiaki Fujisawa, composer for series like Mushoku Tensei, Land of the Lustrous, and A Place Further Than the Universe put in serious work highlighting the beauty and absurdity of Apocalypse Hotel in equal measure. One recurring track, usually used as the backdrop for exploration of the ruined landscape, called to mind old Pogo tracks from YouTube (remember Pogo?). The OP, Aiko’s “skirt,” is painfully fitting for the show; a beautiful but dissonant solo dance in the dark, for an audience of none, giving way to joy and community. The real masterstroke was a late episode, mostly devoid of context, in which Ponko forces Yachiyo to take a day off (labor laws still apply, after all) and take in the city for herself, in a long, ponderous stretch without a single line of dialogue. This whole show is a feast for the senses.

I haven’t even talked about how fucking great this show looks either! This is a really special one.

I could talk about this show for ages. I went in with no expectations and ended up loving my stay. Apocalypse Hotel is a serious contender for anime of the year, and I really hope more people catch word of it. Five stars.

Kowloon Generic Romance

Nostalgia is a hell of a drug. It’s tempting to want to go back to the time when you were younger, when better things seemed possible, when you were happier. It’s a defining characteristic of our present time, for better and for much, much worse. You can call it escapism, you can call it arrested development, you can call it commodifying something that may have never actually been there, and you’d be right more often than you’d be wrong. If all you have is what you used to have, are you truly living in reality?

Kowloon Generic Romance ruminates on nostalgia in the most effective way possible by evoking a bygone style of anime that oldheads on Twitter continue to gush over. It fully looks like an early 90s production, from its angular, dare I say outdated character models, to its pastel and gem-tone color palette, to its luscious hand-painted backdrops. Its entire aesthetic, right down to the bubble-era Chinese fashion and the very fact that it’s set in Kowloon Walled City, makes you yearn for the days of that classic handmade quality. If not for the occasional use of CGI or the sudden prevalence of smartphones in its second episode, I might’ve actually been convinced for a minute that it was a 30-plus-year-old show. It’s incredibly on the nose that nostalgia, deja vu, and romance are key themes in this series, because the way this show looks and sounds elicited those exact same feelings in me.

Based on the nearly-completed manga by After the Rain creator Jun Mayuzuki, Kowloon Generic Romance centers around Reiko Kujirai and Hajime Kudo, a pair of Japanese real estate agents working together in Hong Kong’s Kowloon Walled City. Though the city is decrepit and overpopulated, Reiko and Kudo live a cozy, almost idyllic life, eating the same lunches, playing mahjong, and bickering like schoolchildren. While Kudo seems perfectly content with this life, Reiko wants to branch out a bit more: She’s made a new friend who recently moved into the city, she’s trying new restaurants, and above all, she’s fallen hard for the beefy idiot who works right behind her. Those feelings get a lot more complicated, though, when she finds a Polaroid of the two of them together with a written caption celebrating their engagement.

Reality is a tenuous thing in this twisting narrative, and at the center of it is Kowloon itself, which was famously torn down in 1994 and converted into a public park. How is such a relic of its time still standing in the era of smartphones? What past actually lies within its walls, and how is it impacting the present? What–and who–is actually real in here? Who was Reiko before now, and what was her relationship to this city? Kowloon Generic Romance’s story is constantly turning on a dime, its mysteries always multiplying and deepening. A bizarre pharmaceutical company with a strange snake-like man at its helm, the sudden disappearance of a waiter at Kudo’s favorite haunt, and the giant floating tesseract in the sky only complicate matters. What starts out as a romantic period piece seamlessly morphs into a sci-fi thriller where everything is in question.

The very concept of the “self” is examined quite a bit in Kowloon Generic Romance. Reiko is faced constantly with the question of who she is, who she was, and whom she could be; whether it’s at all possible to become her “absolute self,” as is often repeated throughout. Her new bestie Yaomay (voiced pitch-perfectly by Aoi Koga, who put in serious work this season) is the perfect partner for her in all this, as she has a past she would prefer to bury in order to become what she always wanted to be. She changed her name and every last detail of her appearance in order to reach her own self-actualization, and she’s exactly whom Reiko needed to meet: Whereas Reiko sees herself as a walking facade, Yaomay sees the art in artifice and believes herself to be a literally self-made woman. It raises terrific questions about identity; at what point does acting aspirationally become your true self? Does outgrowing your aspirations strip you of your “self?” Can you truly have a “self” if you’re living for someone else, or worse, someone else’s downfall?

Not for nothing, but this show is fucking sexy. It’s not just that the characters themselves are plenty good-looking (and I must note that Yaomay and especially Reiko are two of the most attractive anime women I’ve ever seen in my life; they just don’t make ‘em like that anymore), the way they dress and carry themselves is just mesmerizing. Hell, just the first episode exemplified this: The opening scene is just Reiko smoking on her patio in her pajama shirt, and a later scene of her splayed out, sweating, exhausted from painting a hot room had me fanning myself. The onscreen romances and attempts thereof are magnetic. Mayuzuki just gets it. There’s also a good amount of time dedicated to a frankly-depicted gay relationship, a major character who is intersex, and another with a complicated relationship to gender expression. Sexy AND sexually progressive. Great way to cap off Pride Month.

Kowloon Generic Romance, as a television series, is very propulsive and can move from scene to scene rapidly, in no small part because it is an 11-plus-volume manga crammed into a complete 13-episode narrative. The story is told from beginning to what we can only assume is its canon ending, as Mayuzuki is likely still several months away from finishing the manga as of the anime’s finale. I read as much of the manga as has been translated into English after the halfway point of the season, and while the pacing is far more brisk in the anime, I’m happy to report that very little is actually lost in translation to the screen. Kowloon Generic Romance’s manga moves at a leisurely, almost sleepy pace, and while the anime doesn’t have quite as much time to luxuriate in its established vibes, they’re still very much there. Some scenes and flashbacks are told in different order, we see less of Reiko’s friend Xiaohei seemingly working every odd job around the city, and some of Kudo’s hobbies like mahjong and patronizing a porno theater are either downplayed or cut out entirely (the scene I used as a header took place in said theater in the manga, for instance). For efficiency’s sake, I can’t say I mind too much. I struggle to think of how we could’ve gotten a better adaptation than this.

I’m stuck between this and Apocalypse Hotel as the anime of the season, but I’m leaning towards this one ever so slightly. And at the halfway point of 2025, I’m comfortable calling Kowloon Generic Romance the anime of the year so far. The summer season is insanely stacked, so it could quickly and easily be dethroned, but my memories of this show will always be fond ones.

mono

I knew nothing about this one going in other than that it was an adaptation of another manga by Yuru Camp creator Afro. What I didn’t expect was just how much Yuru Camp is still in this: Though plenty of the hit series’ DNA is evident in mono, I wasn’t expecting to see its fingerprints all over it as well. If you’ve been dying for more Yuru Camp since the end of season 3 a year ago, you can do a hell of a lot worse than this.

mono follows Satsuki, an amateur photographer who mostly just joined her high school’s photography club to take pictures of her senpai, and An, who joined the same club just to take pictures of Satsuki taking pictures of their senpai. When said senpai graduates, though, Satsuki is left in a bit of a rut. An suggests they carry on her legacy, and they agree to get cameras of their own: Satsuki gets a 360-degree camera for landscapes, and An orders an action cam off of eBay, which… never shows up. The girls manage to track down the seller, whose address turns out to be a dagashiya housing Haruno, a mangaka, whose editor is asking her to write a new manga about high school girls (and also a free-roaming cat named Taishou, who rules). Seeing a perfect opportunity, she offers to help the girls out with their club in exchange for letting her base the series on their escapades. In order to stave off being folded due to a lack of membership, the photography club merges with the similarly tiny cinema club, helmed by the sleepy-eyed, enigmatic Sakurako, and the Cinephoto Club is born.

It’s pretty easy to write mono off as a little too meta and self-referential for its own good, especially as far as Haruno is concerned, but Afro’s work is so characteristically charming that I didn’t really mind. It’s much more of an outright comedy than Yuru Camp; it exhibits the snappy timing of a gag series from the outset, but it soon falls into a more familiar iyashikei rhythm once Haruno-sensei starts chauffeuring the girls around Yamanashi (seriously, whatever their tourism board is paying Afro, they’re getting their money’s worth). Yuru Camp’s shadow looms large over this series, but its success is so intrinsic to what mono is that I can’t help but do the Leo point when we see the odd Rin Shima cameo or pinecone saying “konnichiwa.” It also has just enough in common with other iyashikei-flecked slice-of-life series like Dagashi Kashi and Insomniacs After School that it feels like its own thing; Afro likes diving into the little things they cover, so we get to learn bits and pieces about photography, architecture, local history, and even booze. It’s like going on an educational trip every Saturday.

While they’re no OutClub, mono’s cast definitely carries the show. Sakurako is a likable enough protagonist, but the rest of the club really shines here. An, voiced by Aoi Koga (at this point one of my favorite VAs), is delightfully genki and far too silly for her own good, and the mush-mouthed Sakurako, voiced by Hikaru Tono (Anna in last year’s Makeine), is full of surprises, whether it’s a bottomless stomach or seriously impressive bug impressions. Haruno (the always wonderful Reina Ueda) and her gal pal videographer Kako are a great time as well, and much like in Yuru Camp, it’s fun watching different permutations of these ladies get together and trek for local eats. But we all know Taishou is the real protagonist here.

This is the debut production from studio Soigne, and they absolutely crushed it. Though the studio had no hand in Yuru Camp, they did a bang-up job of imitating a lot of the same look and feel while still setting mono apart as its own thing. Hell, one look at Satsuki and An’s triangular brows and you immediately know it’s an Afro production. It’s definitely riding on Yuru Camp’s cache a bit in some places, especially the OP, but the animation style is much looser overall, especially in the episode where Haruno gets shitfaced at a wine tasting (with an obligatory Toba-sensei cameo to boot). The studio also has plenty of fun playing around with stylistic switch-ups, from an Initial D-esque downhill race to occasional forays into horror thanks to one of Haruno’s mangaka buddies. If anything, mono feels like Yuru Camp without the guardrails, and it’s been a blast to see what direction it might take next.

Watching Yuru Camp isn’t a prerequisite to your enjoyment of mono, but it certainly helps, and if you’re already a fan, it’s a lovely companion piece with a ton of Easter eggs for your enjoyment. On its own, it’s a plenty enjoyable iyashikei slice-of-life and an easy recommendation for a cozy weekend. I want some shaved ice now.

A Ninja and an Assassin Under One Roof

Here’s a curious production by Shaft: The same studio known for high-value anime productions like Madoka Magica, Nisekoi, and the Monogatari franchise took up the mantle for this oddball yuri dark comedy about, well, [gestures at the title]. You’d probably never know it if you didn’t look it up for yourself, but some fun wrinkles are thrown into this happy gay murderfest as the blood flies and the bodies fall.

NinKoro, which I’ll be calling it for short from here on out, follows the misadventures of Satoko, a doofy kunoichi who managed to escape from her ninja village to the city, and Konoha, a high-school-aged assassin-for-hire who saves her from a ninja pursuer. Satoko thanks her by cleaning up the crime scene using her unique ninjutsu that can turn any object into a pile of leaves, and Konoha sees an opportunity for partnership. In exchange for taking Satoko in, Konoha enlists her help cleaning up her murder scenes for a cut of her earnings as she climbs the assassin rankings. Satoko also cooks. And cleans. And shops. And sleeps in the kitchen. But she’s such a happy-go-lucky dingdong that she doesn’t seem to mind, even as she puts everyone in their orbit in certain danger as more ninjas track her down, but Konoha’s always there to put them down. See, it’s a symbiotic relationship!

The character growth in this was the part that really compounded my increasing enjoyment as the show went on, because not for nothing, Konoha straight up SUCKS for like the first half of this show. She largely ignores the eager-to-please Satoko and just sits around on her bed staring at her phone all day when they’re not working (unfortunately, same). She understandably has her walls up as an assassin, but sometimes I just feel bad for Satoko, even as it’s played for jokes. There’s an early tease of vulnerability in the terrific episode where she gets along better with a robot stand-in for Satoko than she ever had with the genuine article, which feels even crueler when the real one comes back, but patience is plenty rewarded in the back half of the season. We get some good old-fashioned Yuri Yearning as the show goes on, too. I’m particularly impressed with the fact that although this is nominally a gag series, NinKoro is surprisingly committed to its own progression and isn’t afraid to build on itself, with even minor joke details coming into play in unexpected ways later on. This is a much smarter show than it lets on.

The cast, and more specifically the casting, carry NinKoro a long way. Haruna Mikawa (Satsuki in the aforementioned mono and Sung Jinah in Solo Leveling) is an absolute blast as both Satoko and her robot analogue Roboko, and the living legend Kana Hanazawa, who also performs the OP, nails Konoha’s cold, sardonic demeanor. The will-they-won’t-they between them is largely played for laughs for a while, but their chemistry genuinely builds as the series goes on. The pair’s rival-turned friend, the mad inventor assassin Marin (perfectly voiced by I’m in Love With the Villainess’ Yu Serizawa), is a blast every single time she’s on screen, if for no other reason than the fact that she continues to put up with Satoko despite being completely fed up with her shit. Satoko’s butch ex-ninja friend and her girlfriend are also great and usually willing to help, even though they’re constantly being put in harm’s way because Satoko's opsec is dogshit.

As enjoyable as NinKoro largely is, I did occasionally find it at odds with itself. Though its sense of humor is plenty dark, and I do enjoy dark humor, its subject matter seems needlessly cruel sometimes. On occasion it’ll bookend an episode with a flashback to the newly-dead ninjas planning out their futures together or lingering shots of their now-empty homes. I can appreciate that the series reminds us that Konoha’s wacky, silly executions do indeed have a human cost, but for a while it seems like it’s just taunting us for laughing, and to what end, I’m still not entirely sure. It never seems to go anywhere except for occasional scenes in an afterlife where all of the slaughtered ninjas get to see each other again, and though it does partially give us a (very silly) plot point, I really don’t know what the point of those early “hey these people are DEAD” scenes were other than to make the viewer feel bad. There’s such a gulf between the comedy and the darker elements that it inflicts some serious tonal whiplash.

What really compounds my bafflement with this being a Shaft production is that Madoka director Yukihiro Miyamoto was also tapped to direct this. While the whip-fast gag pacing is tremendous in NinKoro, it doesn’t feel like anything particularly special about 80% of the time; it comes across like a pretty straightforward, decently-animated slice of life. That remaining 20% is where it shines, with wildly well-animated sequences of new ninja introductions right before Konoha swiftly and mercilessly cuts down yet another one. Satoko’s introduction at the start of the show is brilliant; it looks like it was perfectly ripped from an 80s animation. There are also some very intricately-animated shots of girls’ hands touching and caressing each other. I mean, obviously, this is a yuri series. Don’t think I didn’t notice.

I was mixed on NinKoro for a while, but it really found its footing eventually and became a genuinely enjoyable watch. It’s likely that this show is done after just one season, which is the sad truth for most yuri series out there. It’s a shame, but I ended up surprisingly satisfied with what we got. As gay dark comedies go, you can do a lot worse.

Rock is a Lady’s Modesty

Yuri bait is a time-honored tradition in girls’-band anime. You get a bunch of young women together in one place in a pressure-cooker environment like making music and you’re bound to see a lot of emotions flying and hormones pumping. There are so many lingering looks and fawning comments to pore over, so many definitely-not-romantic confessions to debate endlessly, and so many lyrics to decode through a lesbian codex. It’s an art, just as much as the series themselves and the music that comes from them, to pick up and devour any possible crumbs of girls’ love within these fictional bands.

Rock is a Lady’s Modesty, meanwhile, does away with all that coward shit and gets mega gay with it.

Lilisa Suzunomiya’s mother married into an extremely rich family, which granted her access to a similarly prestigious all-girls’ private high school. Though she comes from a more modest upbringing, she’s fitting in pretty darn well! She is the absolute picture of ladyhood, carrying herself elegantly and performing well in class, and most importantly, the other girls adore her. Lilisa is sure to mind her P’s and Q’s at all times so she can attain the school’s top honor of Noble Maiden, proving she’s the paragon of ladyhood, and beat all these rich bitches at their own game by showing that she and her mother belong in high society. 

Problem is, acting prim and proper like this has Lilisa feeling a little pent up: Her father, who is no longer in the picture, taught her how to play guitar, and she’s gone without that outlet for some time now. One day, she stumbles upon the school’s old building, and in its music room she stumbles across a classmate, the beautiful Otoha, going apeshit on a double kick drum. Otoha immediately sees through Lilisa’s facade and encourages her to grab a guitar and play with her, only to completely overpower Lilisa’s playing with her loud, propulsive drumming. Lilisa gets frustrated, but she relishes a challenge, so she starts shredding to keep up, and Otoha responds in kind. By the time they’re done, they’re both so sweaty and adrenaline-high that they can only start screaming at each other, hurling vulgar abuse back and forth until they’re both satisfied. And so begins a beautiful friendship.

Lilisa’s caught between two worlds, and she’s able to channel her frustrations through music. There’s plenty to be said in Rock Lady about finding your identity through music, and the class struggle she’s found herself in plays a massive role. Spite is one hell of a motivator, especially when it comes to making music, and when rocking the fuck out isn’t enough, sometimes you gotta just scream at someone like a delinquent. The two bandmates they gain, school “prince” Tina and icy ronin guitarist Tamaki, are dealing with struggles of their own, and need a lot of time and practice before they feel comfortable with their roles in the band. They have their own issues to sort through, but dedicating their time to the music, finding their own niches, and just feeling it out go a long way towards their self-actualization.

Though I haven’t seen it explicitly tagged as such just about anywhere, Rock is a Lady’s Modesty is 100% a girls’ love series, arguably more so than NinKoro. The dialogue between Lilisa and Otoha is Bravern-esque in its excessive innuendo to the point where both entendres might as well be the same thing, and the musical interplay between them is straight up depicted as TV-safe BDSM at times when they’re at odds. And this show is SO fucking sweaty. Even putting the sexually-charged language (and occasional imagery) aside, it’s kind of impossible not to look at Rock Lady through a queer lens; the girls’ relationships to each other, their music, and their social obligations can be read as pretty clear allegories just beneath the surface. So many of their character arcs are about living as one’s true self, bucking conformity, and defying traditional expectations of being ladylike in order to do what they love. The band’s commitment to performing fully-instrumental music when everyone else, bands and audiences alike, put vocals on a pedestal, can be read as an obvious metaphor as well. Everyone’s internal conflict is about repressing the irrepressible for the sake of fitting in, to the point where you can replace “rock” with “WLW” in like half the dialogue and you’ll basically get the same meaning. I mean, come on, Lilisa’s stage name is Lily, which is, of course, English for “yuri.” And this yuri, too, is rock.

The music, it should go without saying, fucking rips. I was already made an all-too-late fan of BAND-MAID by the OP to last season’s excellent Zenshu, but the band is inextricable from what makes Rock Lady a hit: Not only did they crank out another screamer for this show’s terrific opening, but they contributed both the music and the motion capture for the girls’ performances. The terrific ED, by pop vocal group Little Glee Monster, probably would make me roll my eyes if an English analogue played at the grocery store, but it works really well here. The actual diegetic music dies out a bit in the middle episodes of the show (and frankly the plot sags along with it), but that drought is ended as the band gets together in earnest and the story ramps up towards its explosive, dare I say climactic, finale. I did think it was funny that the western bands Lilisa cited as her influences were Led Zeppelin, Linkin Park, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers (yeah, me too, when I was 12) when the actual music sounds nothing like any them, but that’s just me being a snob. What counts is what we got, and I’m sure the mangaka is plenty happy.

The CG motion capture for the girls’ performances is… fine. It’s kind of like in Medalist where it’s cordoned off just enough from the rest of the show that it registers as its own thing, but also like in Medalist, it’s just good enough that I’d have been happy if the whole show looked like that, or like a cel-shaded Girls Band Cry. The regular animation is plenty great and rife with visual gags and metaphors that really play up the GL “sub”text, but the real treat is when Lilisa and Otoha get whipped up in their post-music fervor and their character models turn all snarly and sketchy, like they got plucked out of a Trigger animation. If the whole show looked like that it might be closer to perfect, but the switch-up is so much fun I found myself looking forward to it just as much as the music that always precedes it.

While the band’s growing pains in the middle of the season dragged the narrative down for a couple episodes, I’d still say Rock Lady is a winner and one of the better anime I’ve seen so far this year. Rocking out with your cock out isn’t limited to sex nor gender, and these ladies have fully whipped ‘em out. Get your lighters and middle fingers up.

Witch Watch

This is a series I constantly see on the Manga+ app and had heard next to nothing about, but I was interested when the anime was announced. An enthusiastic recommendation from a friend put it on my must-watch list, and it’s been a pleasant surprise all season. A funny, cute slice-of-life is like catnip for me, so I’d happily pass that recommendation along.

Nico Wakatsuki, a high-school-aged witch, moves back to her hometown to reunite with her childhood friend, Morihito Otogi, an oni, in order to take him on as a familiar and a bodyguard. Morihito (whom Nico very cutely calls Moi-chan, because his name was hard for her to pronounce as a kid) takes her into his home right as his dad conveniently leaves for an indefinitely-long work trip, which makes things very interesting because Nico is secretly head-over-heels in love with him. Along with her other familiar, the Kansai tengu Kanshi, Moi is determined to prevent a prophecy delivered to him in secret by Nico’s mother to ensure disaster doesn’t come her way. Hilarity ensues, and perhaps romance as well.

A gag series surrounding a dim, clumsy witch-in-training is an endless fount of comedy, and it helps that the cast surrounding her is just as charming. Morihito makes a great tsukkomi to the constant insanity surrounding him, but it’s just as entertaining when he drops the act to reveal that in plenty of ways he’s just as much of a goober as his friends are. Kanshi is a total riot, never taking just about anything seriously, and the chaotic energy between him and Nico is irresistable. Keigo’s kind of a drip, but he’s been a rewarding character to get to know. I’m hoping for more of Nico’s friends in class, Kara and Kukumi, if only because they’re voiced by Rie Takahashi and Konomi Kohara, and their closet-otaku homeroom teacher is dropping HxH and Demon Slayer references left and right. I could keep going.

And although this is a gag series at its core, Witch Watch does have some serious heart. The central romance plot, slow-burning though it is, is just compelling enough to string me along, even if this ends up being on some Nozaki-kun shit and going nowhere forever. Nico and Moi are cute as hell together, and I love that despite him being an outwardly serious, stoic guy, Morihito very clearly cares a lot about Nico. I’m rooting for those crazy kids. It’s also sweet seeing Nico employ her magic powers to help people with very real problems, and her willingness to genuinely help improve their lives makes her an easy protagonist to root for, even if she’s equally prone to causing disasters.

Bibury has done a fine job with this show. It looks solid just about all of the time, but the production’s strength is in how well it matches the manic pacing of adapting a gag manga (I like to think 100 Girlfriends’ success is what got the studio the rights to this one). The manzai pacing of the dialogue is great, and the production team is always game to go in different directions for the sake of a joke, like Kanshi stuck operating at 10x speed or Nico helping a lovelorn classmate who looks and acts like he came from an English textbook. I can see why the source material has been running for over 200 chapters, and like with 100 Girlfriends, I can just as easily see the studio being in this for the long haul.

I gotta speak my truth here: This show has one of the best OPs I’ve ever seen. YOASOBI’s “Watch Me!” is an earworm, to be sure, but even above that, it looks fucking stellar. The muted linework, soft color palette, and freakishly fluid movement reminded me immediately of recent One Piece OPs as well as Fan Letter, and wouldn’t you know it, it was directed by the very same Megumi Ishitani that was behind exactly those. It’s mesmerizing to look at. Even if I wasn’t already enjoying the show, I’d have kept up with it week in and week out just to catch the OP every time. There was even a surprise flex in just the third episode that was presented as Nico accidentally breaking the whole thing down to its key animations, which not only still looks insane but is apparently also hiding some Easter eggs from the mangaka's previous work, Sket Dance. I have no hesitation in saying that “Watch Me!” belongs in the same conversation as contemporary instant-classic OPs like “99.9,” “Daddy! Daddy! Do!,” and “Bling-Bang-Bang-Born.” YOASOBI can’t keep getting away with it.

I was surprised to learn that Witch Watch is continuing into the summer season, and although I suddenly have a ton on my plate with nearly a dozen prominent anime continuing and coming back in July, this show’s going to continue to be a great palate cleanser. I’m not totally enchanted yet, but I’m looking forward to seeing it continue to work its magic.

[courtingchaos]

Feast

Pairing: Eddie x Reader x Steve, past Eddie x Steve (set in my Line Cook Eddie AU)

Word Count: 9.8K

Summary: It’s a Graveyard Lake House Smash 🎃

A/N: When I tell you Woof, I mean WOOF. I don’t want to tell you all how long I’ve had this sitting in the crockpot. It’s surprising it didn’t turn to ash. Instead I got this! Struck by what I can only describe as mania I was able to finish this and edit it all with the help of @jo-harrington . Now I have many many MANY people to thank for this even being an idea for me to play around with and I won’t fill this page up with a bunch of tags. Those of you that were there for its inception know and that’s what matters. Talk about a fucking labor of love. I pulled this out of my own viscera, I hope you like it ❤️ (Also, reference is made to the fic Strawberry if you guys want to go look at that smut too, but it is not needed.)

Warnings: Drug use (cocaine, weed), Drinking, DVP, Unprotected sex, Sex while under the influence

NSFW 18+ No Minors

“Oh this is cute.” The flyer invite is bright orange and full of Eddie’s little doodles.

“Yeah? You like it?” Eddie leans over your shoulder. “Made it all by myself.”

“You even signed it, look at you.” You grab his chin and give it a wiggle before he plants a kiss on your cheek.

“Obviously we’re invited. I’ve got my costume all planned out already.” He heads into the bedroom and misses you pulling a face.

“Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I won’t be there.”

His head sticks out around the doorframe, “What?”

“Yeah, too many requests off. I gotta close.”

“Okay? You’re off at what, 9:30?” Eddie waves you off before disappearing in the bedroom. “I’ll pick you up and we can be to Steve’s by 10, 10:30. Piece of cake, piece of crumb cake.” He does his best Father Guido from inside his closet and it makes you laugh.

“I’m gonna be tired, Ed.”

“And I’m gonna have weed.” He reappears with a different hoodie on.

You huff. “I don’t have a costume.”

“I’ll find you one.”

“I hate bagged stuff!” You aren’t really arguing with him, just pushing his buttons enough to see where his exasperation will take him. It sends his arms over his head while he goes headlong into all the costumes you could put together with the shit in your own closet.

“So no bagged stuff! You could pull off a Nancy Downs or a Sidney.”

“Will you go as Stu?”

Eddie stands like he’s upset with you, arms crossed and voice dropping low for a moment. “You know damn well I’d have to go as Billy. Plus,” he flits his hand beside his face, “like I said I already have my costume.”

“You won’t tell me?” You don’t even fake your pout. “I need help with an idea! Come on!”

“It’s a surprise!” He shakes your shoulder and when you don’t stand he hauls you up by your hand so you can finally run errands for the day. “Look, when we’re done at the store I’ll help you dig through your shit and piece something together.”

By store he really meant every shop in town with a Halloween section and only a quick run into a grocery store for mac and cheese. One of your last stops is at a Party City where you’re staring at the wall of masks feeling a little dejected. Halloweens haven’t felt fun in a while and this one was shaping up to be just as disappointing. You’re eying one of those big articulated scarecrow masks when Eddie comes bounding up to you with a clutch of cellophane in his hands.

“I figured it out.” Is all he says before practically skipping back the way he came, right into the latex and spirit gum section.

“Ed I don’t want to do a whole thing, especially if I can’t wear it at work.”

“No this is easy shit, it goes on like a temporary tattoo.” He holds one of the thin packs up against your face before shaking his head and tossing it back on a hook. Another one he’s been clutching skims your cheek and his eyes light up. “No this is perfect.”

“You gonna let me in on this little secret?” You crane your neck to see what he has. “Is that a pentagram?”

“Do you still have that cheer skirt?”

You think you might know what he’s getting at. “The black and red one?”

He nods his head and picks up a packet of ‘fresh’ colored blood.

“Yeah.” And with that he’s off down the aisle again, beelining for the color coded tailgating section.

“If they have them in stock—hell yeah.” He holds up a red and a black pompom. “Cookin’ with fire now.” His grin is infectious.

“You know I don’t have any costume contacts, right?”

Eddie’s ‘pshh’ is so self assured. “With this it won’t matter.” He points at the pentagram transfer. “See? I told you I’d figure it out.”

In the small bathroom at work you feel only slightly ridiculous.

It’d been a few Halloween’s ago that you’d worn this skirt and now it’s a little more snug, sits a little higher on your thigh and hugs your stomach a little tighter. The cropped tee doesn’t leave much to the imagination and the thigh highs feel a little like overkill.

It’s cute, objectively. You know it but you still spend a little too much time staring at the back of yourself as best you can, making sure your whole ass isn’t out on display. A soft knock on the door reminds you of your faithful coworker waiting on you to finish up so they can run off to their own plans.

“Sorry, one sec!” You shove your work clothes into your tote bag and give yourself one last hard stare. “You’re gonna be fine.” You say with some finality to your reflection, black press on nail tapping on the glass.

Outside Eddie sits in his truck, idling next to your car and you take your sweet time strolling over to him. His eyes glint in his side view while the rest of his face stays obscured and you wonder just what costume he’s put on, right until you catch the tilt of his head and you see what sits there. Your pace quickens and you have to hold the hem of your skirt down when you all but run across the parking lot, stopping at his open window to stare at him wildly.

“Oh no, you did not.”

He most certainly did.

The cigarette clenched between his fangs glows in the dark cab, shimmering lips pulling into a smile around the filter. “Do what?” He asks like he has no idea what’s on his body. The run of chains around his neck clink and catch the light of the street lamps. From under his curls the tips of pointed prosthetics peak out, gold rings pierced through the latex. The matte red body paint lays in a thin layer on his face and just barely down his neck, his chest on full display under his barely buttoned black shirt.

“Not the Bard.” His hands glint with more rings than normal, jeweled gold he’d picked up at last year’s Ren Faire. You catch the black claws stuck to his nails and he laughs at your shocked expression.

“What’s wrong with my Bard?”

You gesture wildly at his whole being and you haven’t even started to look up at the horns on his head. Long red ones that curl against his crown, gold chains dripping off the curves. Painted bands shimmer just like the gold on his lips and you almost open your mouth to cancel your plans.

Eddie clicks his tongue at you like he’s read your mind. “Hop in quick, it’s like a 45 minute drive.”

You huff, hands still anchored on the window while you gawk at him. His make up is perfect, his clothes thrown on too easily. There’s a smokey scent that lingers, something not from his cigarette, and you wonder if he got into your perfume oils; Incense and wood fire swirling around him. He taps your knuckles to get them off his door and when you go to walk around the bed of the truck he just whistles at you, nodding his head towards the hood.

“No no, give me a little preview.”

You almost don’t give in. The doubt is trying its hardest to claw up your back but you ignore it and let the headlights cast your shadow on the building. Eddie’s delighted laughter rolls from his open window and when you get into the truck his hand finds the exposed swath of thigh above the socks.

“Told you it’d come together.” A firm squeeze and a straying pinky when you twist around to set your bag in the backseat, the soft pads of his fingers grazing higher under the hem of your skirt.

“You like it?” You sound a little unsure, like he wasn’t the one to lay the outfit out for you to give your seal of approval. It isn’t like you need his constant validation but it feels nice to let him ogle you every once in a while.

“If I didn’t have promises to keep I’d be taking you straight home.” He leans in toward you, careful of all his pieces and face paint, lips close but just out of reach.

“The quicker we get out there, the quicker we can get home.” You try to bridge the distance but Eddie pulls back, another sharp grin aimed at you.

“You should finish your makeup before we get there.” He taps the glove box before leaning back into his seat. “I saved you something for the ride over.”

He keeps his hand in place the whole way to Steve’s. Even when you pull out the joint he rolled for you, in the fun striped papers you’d shown him weeks ago. You relax and try to get your eyeliner done first before you’re too high to care and when you’ve finally put your bag away Eddie becomes your sole focus.

His hand might stay firmly planted but yours don’t. It starts off easy enough, plucking at his necklaces and pendants, letting them fall back on each other and clink. A twist of a ring on his free hand and pulling at the bracelet warmed by his wrist. You run a light finger along his pointed ear and you don’t miss the slight shiver that runs down his neck.

His neck.

You drop that hand and trail the tip of your fake nail over his skin to pull up goosebumps, carefully avoiding smudging any paint. He lets you drop a peck or two but he’s serious about not messing up his makeup, “at least not yet.”

Since you’ve been denied a treat, you pull lightly at his collar so you can nibble on his shoulder. Fingers trailing down the wide open valley of buttons, your other hand dancing across his lap to scratch at the seam of his jeans.

“You’re terrible.” He admonishes you but it’s all for show, if he was serious about you taking your hands off him he wouldn’t have grinned at you like that.

Halfway out of your seat and draped over the center console is how you spend the last half of your drive, an earring between your teeth while you distract him just enough to swerve a few times.

The lake house emerges along the horizon suddenly, almost like you’d been distracted by the button on Eddie’s jeans. The gravel crunches under the tires down the long drive and orange, green and purple string lights help direct you to the actual house.

Steve’s family’s lake house is a mimic of a rustic cabin, one big peaked roof and a massive back deck that wraps around the side. It looks like someone pulled a giant A-frame directly up out of the ground, Halloween decor and all. You stare up at it surrounded by trees, the big windows flashing intermittently with light, music thumping dully out into the sleeping nature.

“Whoa.” Actually you loose all focus of what’s in Eddie’s pants as you finally grasp the size of the property and the crowd outside.

“See? Could have missed all this if we’d just gone home.” Eddie parks and unbuckles himself so he can twist around carefully for the bag in the back. “Now sit still, I gotta put your pentagram on.”

That pulls your attention back to him, especially when he sets a water bottle down first. He peels the transfer apart and you watch him silently, lulled by a full work day and the haze of weed. He’s right, it does go on like a temporary tattoo and when a drip of water falls between your breast you giggle.

“Making a mess already?” You hold the edges of your cut up collar away so you don’t get it stuck and Eddie just shakes his head.

“Are you gonna be like this all night?”

“Do you want me to be?”

Eddie’s hand is flat against your chest to hold the prosthetic in place so you know he feels the uptick of your heartbeat. It’s close and cozy in this cab, close enough that you can see the corner of his mouth twitch and the crinkle of his light crows feet. His eyes drop from your chest to your cleavage and you lean in a little more, push your arms in a little tighter.

“Can I have a kiss?” Whispered just between you two. “Since I’ve been so good tonight.”

He hums, lips pursed, and checks on your pentagram instead. The paper lifts and his hand moves away and you follow him, lips leading to the golden shimmer you’ve been eyeing. It’s quick but it’s what you wanted, just a little more of his attention on you.

He huffs when you pull away. “See this is why I wanted to wait.” His thumb rubs against your chin and he pulls it back to show you the smear of red. “Now you’re marked.”

You think if you can crawl into his lap right now he might abandon this deal tonight. He looks at you from under hooded eyes, eyes that linger on your bare skin. There’s a moment when he takes a deep breath you think you can maybe break him with a well placed purr of his name but—

“Eddie!” The rap of knuckles on the window makes you jump and with it the spell breaks. Robin is waving at the two of you, grinning wide and unknowing of what she’s done. “You guys look great!” Her voice is muffled by the glass so Eddie opens the door and starts his personality up for the show.

You figure out that Robin has gone as Weird Barbie and you love it, especially because she’s obviously a few Malibu and Pineapple’s deep and she keeps you slung close while she directs you and Eddie around.

“Jon and Nance are Beetlejuice and Lydia.” She points in a vague direction of the house where you see neither of them. “Lucas and Max couldn’t make it because they’re doing the ‘parent thing’ obviously.” Her air quotes almost make her spill her drink and Eddie takes it from her with a sigh.

“It’s not even midnight yet, Rob.”

“Hush! I don’t actually know what the hell Dustin is, I think it’s a chemical compound.” She says out of the side of her mouth, gesturing at Eddie to give her a sip from her solo cup. “Will is an amazing Orville Peck, he made his own mask! The fringe is so long!”

You laugh at her pointing at meaningless areas, no one being where she thinks they are.

“And where’s our host?” Eddie asks, scanning the heads outside.

“Oh he’s been so lame. You know, he slapped a name tag on an hour before the party and called it his costume?” Robin looks so disappointed. “I offered to make him a Ken three months ago and he acted like I’d insulted him.”

“Well what’s he wearing? I’d rather him not blow up my phone.”

“Black hat, backwards like an asshole. Red sweater.” Robin drops you off at the doorway into the cabin and snatches her drink back from Eddie. “Name tag says ‘God’.” She leaves you with a heavy eye roll before slipping into the masses.

A quick schmooze around the open downstairs and you’re finally left to your own devices, drink secured in your hand.

“Now don’t go running off without me, okay?” Eddie puts a stern finger in your face and you snap your jaws at it. He ignores you. “I’m serious, meet me up in the loft.” He points the same finger upwards and you nod wordlessly. “Hopefully this shouldn’t take too long and we can go hang out on the dock.”

You frown. “It’s kind of cold out.”

“Oh no.” Eddie waves his hands at you, feigning being distraught. “I guess we’ll have to cuddle, oh no!”

You flip him off as he walks away and he blows you a kiss and immediately you begin timing him to see how long it will actually take him.

You don’t recognize anyone here. Maybe a few people from Stacy’s, some of the line cooks and waitstaff, but no one you can start a conversation with that wouldn’t end up feeling awkward. There’s the obvious close friends of Eddie’s but even they aren’t as known to you and even so, you’ve spotted them chatting with other people already. You sip on your drink and you sigh and resign yourself to waiting it out.

Leaning on the bannister of the loft you look down and spot Eddie animatedly telling someone something, his jewelry sparkling in the flashing lights. His voice carries sometimes, even in a party like this and you watch him with amusement. It doesn’t take long to loose him though and you pull your phone out to distract you, just before a flash of maroon catches your eye and you turn to find Steve looking surprised with two cups in his hands.

“I was trying to sneak up on you, how did you know?”

“I bet you’re one of those guys who doesn’t say ‘behind’ at work, aren’t you?”

“Oh no, I learned my lesson there.” He sets the drinks on the bannister and pulls up his sleeve to show you a silvery scar near his elbow. “That’s where I took a parring knife around a corner, I don’t fuck around in there anymore.” He laughs.

“Was it Eddie?” You ask like you already know the answer but Steve shakes his head hard.

“No, some other dude but Ed did yell at him for walking around with a knife held out in front of him. ‘What are you trying to do, shiv him?’” He puts on a face that you correctly guess is an imitation of an angry Eddie.

“Aw, did he look out for you?” You reach out and pinch Steve’s cheek and he swats you away, his ears flushing a bright red.

“Speaking of, where is he? He has my weed.”

“I don’t know, I lost him in the masses.” You gesture at the crowd below just as the music and lights change, making it darker and harder to make out a detail.

“Shit.”

“Shit indeed. My high is wearing off and there are too many people I don’t know here.” You finish off your drink and Steve is holding up one of his cups to replace it. You raise an eyebrow in question and he just swings it at you so you’ll take it.

“I saw you up here, thought I’d bring you a drink. Didn’t know how long you’d been here.”

Something about his expensive smile always makes you want to giggle. You know that he’s aware of his charms but even then you can’t help how easy he makes it. The flattery is always there, especially if Eddie is around, and if you didn’t know any better you might have the sneaking suspicion he was flirting.

“All by my lonesome?” You shake your new drink at him and he rolls his eyes.

“Not like that, I brought two in case Ed was up here.”

He’s always flirting actually, you think it might just be an integral cog of his makeup at this point. You’ve seen the way it slips into the most innocuous conversations with Eddie, though he’s always trying to banter.

You drop the sly accusatory look and shrug. “Good luck. I was told to stay put till he came back.”

“Or, and hear me out, we could go find him together.” He says it like it’s the best idea he’s ever had and honestly? You look around at the sparsely populated loft and check the time on your phone, noticing you’ve already wasted half an hour doing nothing.

“I’m in.”

An hour of wandering and you haven’t run into Eddie again. He didn’t ditch you, far from it. You know your blood covered boobs and incredibly short skirt wouldn’t leave his mind but you do know he how he loves to talk. Someone must have gotten him on a kick and he’s been passed around through groups, his storytelling making bursts of laughter float up from different corners of the party.

“Did he really tell you stay upstairs?” Steve asks, shouldering through a group with a short wave.

“Yeah, but he looses track of time at parties. You know how he is.” You’re a few drinks deep now so any annoyance has burned off, especially since Steve has been nice enough to walk around with you. The view from behind while you followed wasn’t bad either. It makes you smirk and you hide that in your drink, your wandering gaze following his long legs.

One more inside lap before you both stop at the kitchen island covered in bottles to top up and Steve finally calls it.

“Wanna go sit outside?” He nods his head towards the back deck. “Quieter.” He heads for the wall of windows where people filter out to sit by the water. You weren’t kidding earlier when you said it was chilly and you really hadn’t thought to bring a sweater with you for some reason. Steve notices you hesitate though and seemingly understands. On his way to the door he lifts the seat of a bench up and pulls out a blanket.

Water laps at the deck softly and the chatter dies down finally, the music a distant thump and you feel a little sober taking in the fresh air. Steve holds up the corners of the blanket for you and when you don’t immediately move in he shakes it at you.

“I’m not gonna bite.”

“Aw, really?” It slips out before you can catch it. To Steve’s credit he takes it in stride, barely breaking a grin when you finally snatch the blanket from him. He digs around in his front pocket for a moment and pulls out a crumpled pack of Marlboros. There’s one already tucked behind his ear and you’re about to remind him when he holds up a slim joint.

“I know this is a sad offering, but you want?”

As if on cue there’s a peal of laughter followed by a big splash and you step closer to Steve on the dock to get away from the rippling water. “Jesus, please.”

He eyebrows twitch up and he points lazily at the name tag. “Actually it’s God, but same-same.”

He pulls two Adirondack chairs together and you slide back into one remembering to keep your knees together so you don’t accidentally flash Steve. He holds the joint out to you with his lighter and you gasp theatrically.

“And a gentleman at that!”

It takes a few strikes to get the beat up bic to light and you can feel Steve staring. At first you think he’s judging your lack of finesse but when you go to hand him his lighter his eyes snap up from your legs, a tight smile flashed at you before he holds his hand out to take the joint back. He keeps the conversation light, he tells you about what this lake house used to look like and how much his parents sunk into it to remodel it. He makes small talk seem fun when he frosts his words in charm and you remember the last night he’d been particularly plucky with you.

“I.D.?”

“Steve it’s me.”

“Can’t trust it, gotta see I.D.” He shrugs and holds out his hand and gestures at you when you don’t make a move for your wallet. There’s not even a hint of a smile on his face and you wonder if maybe he’d gotten in trouble for giving you so many free extra pours.

“Okay, okay fine here.” Behind you Eddie is deep in conversation with Jeff about switching a shift and hasn’t noticed the third degree yet. When you finally get the plastic slipped out of your wallet Steve snatches it and leans back with it held up close to his face. He studies it like he’s never seen you or an I.D. before and he keeps flicking his eyes back and forth between it and your face.

A nervous grin breaks out of you when the situation isn’t changing. “Steve? Did I do-“

“There it is.”

“What?” You laugh through your confusion.

“I just needed to see that smile.” Steve hands your card back and slides your drink across the counter with an easy grin.

The high is returning and with it the questions that slip easily from your brain and straight out of your mouth. “Can I ask you something?”

It takes Steve a moment to tear his eyes away from the surface of the lake where it reflects the string lights. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Remember a few weeks ago when you did the thing with my I.D.?”

His eyebrows scrunch together hard when he tries to piece together what you’re saying. “Your I.D.? Did I loose it?”

You flap your hand at him to try to get him to remember. “No no, the smile thing.”

“Oh!” It dawns on him, his glassy eyes widening. “You like that? That’s one of my better ones.” He seems proud of himself for a pick up line.

“Were you just trying to piss Eddie off or do you just flirt with everyone?”

“Honestly?” Steve scratches his chin lightly, staring back off into the lake’s glassy surface. “I really like messing with Ed. He trusts you so I like to push his buttons.” He shrugs. “Also I do flirt with a lot of people, it gets me good tips.” His laugh makes his eyes crinkle and it makes you think of Eddie.

You take a break to find the bathroom, and to scan for your boyfriend, and when you come up without him you grab two beers from the massive cooler and head back outside. Steve seems a little more alert than when you left him and he points to a space under the deck where two people are cloaked in shadow.

“See that?”

You lean your hip into Steve’s shoulder to balance yourself as you squint, two things becoming harder to do especially together. It isn’t until a wig gets tugged off and both of you gasp, finally realizing that Robin has found a different Barbie. She tugs at Robin, hauling her towards the boathouse and Steve starts laughing.

“Should we help her or…?”

“Nah, she’ll find me in the morning.” Steve sighs and runs his hand up the back of your thigh.

Hm?

You run that feeling through your cotton stuffed brain again. The back of your thigh, the part that is so very bare and just under the hem of your skirt is hot, skin sticky where a palm sits now. It’s wide and a little rough and his fingers give a quick squeeze to the fat there and then proceeds to sit still. You move slowly, your head dropping down to stare at Steve’s easy posture.

“Steven?” You ask slowly.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you with not even a twinkle in his eye. If he were to move his thumb just the slightest bit up he’d be grazing the cuff of your ass and you wonder if he can even feel the sudden heat rolling off you.

“What’s that you got there?” You don’t break eye contact with him.

“Something soft.”

The giggle escapes before you realize it and something in Steve’s features shifts into what looks like pride. You don’t forget where you are so much as you take the bait and turn towards him, leaning down so you’re close to his face and can see the light dusting of freckles on the bridge of his nose.

“I think,” you whisper and cast an exaggerated look around, “you’re tying to get a rise out of someone.”

“Oh?” His cheeks flush, just a tinge of pink that catches your eye.

Steve’s head goes back with a tug of his backwards cap.

“Harrington.” Eddie makes his grand reappearance, seemingly stepping from the shadows to stare down at Steve who stares up in dumbstruck awe.

You’d noticed horns approaching when you’d leaned down and maybe it was the combination of liquor and weed but something bold had taken over, especially when you knew you had Eddie coming to swoop in.

“Finally finished your rounds? I’ve been waiting.” Steve asks your boyfriend, who keeps the bill of the baseball hat between his knuckles.

“You finally finished feeling up my girl? I’m waiting.”

You don’t expect that, the warmth in his tone. The little chuckle, the joking grin. Something about Eddie taking this on the chin makes you pay attention.

“Oh what’s a thigh between friends, huh?”

You can hear the edge in Steve’s voice now, the push to Eddie’s pull. That palm stays firmly planted on you while the two men stare at each other. It’s like they’re speaking in silent code, cats flicking their ears to get their point across. Eddie seems to give in first with a small shrug, letting go of Steve’s hat though his head remains lolled back to stare at the red demon above him.

“Is this imposter bothering you?” Eddie gestures at the peeling name tag stuck to Steve’s sweater and you think about it, honestly.

Where you are right now, is it bothering you?

The hand cradling the back of your thigh, is that bothering you?

The way Eddie seems to be reading your mind, his eyes bouncing between your own and the smile you just realized is warming up your face, does that bother you?

“No.”

This feels like earlier in the night. A heavy hand anchoring you to the moment. A little buzz from your warm high. You’re listening to Eddie smooth talk Steve but all you want is something tactile. Eddie crouches down so he’s eye level with Steve and they lean into each other to conspire, you’d know that look on his face anywhere. It’s one he’s shot you over countless drinks and through crowds and at dinner with friends. He’s got his mind set on something.

He’s too far away though for you to absently run your fingers through his hair so you grab the next best thing. The fringe sticking out from under Steve’s hat is so soft when you rub it between your fingers. Little flips of sun bleached brunette that curl up under the brim and around your finger, twirling between your press ons.

“How is your hair so soft?”

Eddie tilts his head just as Steve slowly turns to look at you with a confused smile. “I spend a lot of money on conditioner.”

“What’s it made of, spun silk?” You drag your nails up the back of his head and he shivers.

Eddie looks downright gleeful. “I told you.”

“Told him what?” Distracted by Steve letting his head fall into your palm you miss Eddie shooting his friend a look.

“How are you feeling?” Eddie asks suddenly. “You still wanna head out?”

“No.” You scratch Steve’s scalp and watch him melt down into the lounge chair. “This is fun.” His hand finally sides down to wrap around your thigh, holding you against him.

“Well Steve has told me something very interesting.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s got a little surprise I think you might enjoy.”

“Oh?” You grab a handful of hair and give Steve a light tug. “Did you bring me a gift?”

“It’s for all of us, actually.”

2 am and the party continues outside the heavy door to Steve’s bedroom. No one blinks an eye when you pull Eddie through the doorway minutes after Steve disappears in there. Not even a knock when Eddie kicks it closed and spins you around to face him.

“You sure about this?” He asks quietly, walking you backwards into the room.

“Absolutely.” You grin, nodding at him.

“Positive?” He holds your gaze to make sure you know he’s serious. Your hands clamp around his face and you pull him in close.

“Yes Eddie.”

Steve’s solid chest bumps into your back, the sweetness of his cologne bursting around you.

“You got it?” Eddie looks past you to ask Steve.

Steve huffs. “Yeah I got it.” He moves around behind you, digging something out of his pocket and his knuckles drag over your ass before his hand appears around you with a little twisted bag between his fingers. “You wanna do the honors?”

“Oh please, it’s your party.” Eddie plays with the hem of your skirt but he watches Steve untwist the bag. Eddie gives you a peck when he catches you trying to turn your head, pulls at your hips to make you face Steve and that self assured grin is present when Eddie holds you still.

“You ever done this before?” Steve asks when he holds up the baggie, eyes dropping to your lips.

“Uh, once. Didn’t really like it.” You watch him work while Eddie stands behind you and runs his hands right up under your skirt. He laughs into your neck and his breath slides under the ripped up collar of your t-shirt. “I don’t think I was with the right people.” You stare at Steve while he dips his index finger into the powder.

“You’ve never done this together?”

“Nope.” Eddie answers for you, his face peeking into your periphery. “Strictly a weed and liquor household, like god intended.” His laugh sends a zap through you, slowed and tingly against your current high. “Isn’t that right baby?” His hand sneaks up under your jaw where his fingers press into your cheeks making your lips purse and part slightly. When Steve’s fingertip grazes your bottom lip you open wider and both men laugh.

“Eager.” Steve says before his finger pushes past your lips and rubs down the side of your gums. The taste is an immediate bitter tang followed by the salt of his skin and you grunt quietly, closing your lips around him. “You’re telling me she’s not a natural at this?” Steve looks past you to Eddie, ignoring you tonguing his finger.

“Not with coke, but she’s real good with things in her mouth, aren’t you?” Eddie’s hand runs down the front of your throat and you hum in agreement. Steve’s finger pops out of your mouth and dips back into the powder, swirling around while he watches from half lidded eyes Eddie kissing along the back of your neck.

“One more.” He promises with a smile and when his finger dips into your mouth again you start to feel the tingle along your gums, something that dances up along your cheeks and zips through your hairline. It fights against the sluggish feeling of the weed and lights up a part of your brain that was trying its best to stay focused through the liquor. Steve is eyeing Eddie while the latter pushes up your shirt, an exchange again made through glances. Steve barely gets his finger out before his mouth is on you, his tongue pushing past your lips to chase your new high.

He’s so warm everywhere. His lips against yours and his chest pressing in and his hands that go right for your jaw those long fingers in the strands at the nape of your neck that give you a shiver up your spine and Eddie must feel those goosebumps when they sprout, they appear so fast and right under his lips and—

“Hey,” Eddie says, turning your head to the side “take a breath.” He breaks your kiss and you whine at the missing warmth of Steve’s soft mouth. “Yeah I know.” He soothes, running a thumb down your cheek. “You still gotta breathe.”

You roll your eyes and take a deep, dramatic breath to show him you still can. Beside you Steve sniffs off the back of his hand before he attaches himself to the side of your neck. His tongue trails over your pulse and Eddie holds your gaze and your chin before he leans in to kiss you.

The coke makes you less hazy, takes the soft edge of the weed and brings it into focus. The feel of Steve’s lips moving up your neck and Eddie’s fingers around your chin. His tongue in your mouth and his other hand slowly tugging up your skirt and Steve’s big palms running up your sides. You can hear the thump of the music outside that feels like it’s trying to keep up with your heartbeat.

There’s a hand pulling at your shirt, pulling it over your head and a hand running up the side of your neck and you hold onto the front of their shirts. You have the distinct feeling of floating while you get pulled and pushed and somewhere in the flurry of caresses you whine into Eddie’s kiss.

A break of lips on your skin and Steve’s shirt hits the floor and then your skirt is getting pushed down to meet them. The strappy set you’d picked out last minute, with all its crisscrossing bands over your hips and across your chest, form a rude arrow between your tits to guide their eyes.

Eddie stares and runs a fingertip under one of the bands to snap it. “Special occasion?”

You don’t answer him, too busy trying to get at his buttons to get his shirt off too. Those tattoos sing at you to be seen and you want to see the starkness of Eddie against Steve’s sun kissed shoulders.

Behind you Steve slides a hand up over your bra and the other down your spine, his lips on the back of your neck. It takes you a second to realize he’s trying to get you to the bed but Eddie notices and changes his stance. He knows how to move you around when he wants and he grabs you around the ribs to give you a push. It’s like all your other games now especially when Eddie starts to follow you back as you shimmy towards the pillows.

The clink of a belt buckle reminds you that Steve is still here. He holds out the baggie to Eddie. “Before you loose track.”

You notice it then, the lack of inebriation in Eddie. Sure he’d been a little toasted from the drive but while he made his rounds it seems like you and Steve were the only ones drinking.

“Actually, come here.” Eddie takes the coke but stops crawling toward you, instead sitting up on his knees and motioning for Steve. “Let me try something.”

Steve can’t get out of his jeans fast enough. He almost trips in his eagerness and Eddie uses it to his advantage. Steve’s flipped on his back with a laugh and all you can do is watch, fascinated with whatever Eddie has planned.

“Do you remember that time we all came up to see you play in college? Like all of us, I think it was the game you tore your shoulder.” Eddie looks down at Steve getting comfortable and throwing his arms out to the side. “That party the night before? What was that girls name?”

“Becca.” Steve says, shifting his gaze to look at you. “Stupid college fling.”

You nod wordlessly and start trying to unhook your bra without moving much. Eddie laughs and holds the baggie open so he can dip his finger in.

“Ah, Becca. She broke up with you the night before a championship game dude. That was cold.” Eddie acts like he’s swirling candy through sugar the way he twirls his finger around but the way you and Steve watch him it might as well be. “Remember how like, no one could find you in the morning? They thought you had gone off and drank yourself stupid over a girl, but where were you again?”

Steve just laughs but you want to know, you want to be in on the joke. Like most times it feels like Eddie hears your thoughts and he turns those big eyes full of mirth to you.

“He was actually passed out in the back of my van, naked.” Eddie gestures at Steve wearing only his boxers and smiling up at him. “This kind of reminded me of that.”

Eddie hovers over Steve, finger ghosting over his lips. “Open.” Steve’s grin splits and Eddie’s claw disappears behind white teeth. Dark ringed eyes flick up to find you where you’ve gone still against the pillows. He looks unbelievably wicked in this room, the gold shimmer on his lips barely mused from kissing you. He must have tossed the small fangs earlier but his mouth still poises danger while Steve sucks on his finger.

You finally find the momentum to drive off the pillows and over to the two of them just as Eddie follows his finger in with his lips. Steve lets a soft moan escape before Eddie covers his mouth with his own, gold staining pink.

You drop your shoulders mid crawl to stretch your hand into Steve’s hair again. You run it through the roots while you stare at them kissing, Steve groaning in the back of his throat when you pull.

“Like that?” You whisper so you don’t break their spell and Steve nods as he looks for something to hang on to. His fingers catch on your bicep and in Eddie’s hair and he’s anchored, hips rolling up into nothing while you tug on the crown of his head.

There’s a little bit of time that seems to slip away from you. One moment you’re watching Eddie take Steve apart and the next he’s moved you again, his arm slung around your middle to pull you flush against his chest, your underwear clutched in his fist, your thoughts soft

Steve watches Eddie’s tattooed hand slide gently around the front of your neck and he knows he’s in trouble. It’s both of you really, not just Eddie, driving him insane. He tilts your head back onto his shoulder and smiles down at you with what Steve thinks is pure adoration. When Eddie shifts his attention to Steve there’s a swooping low in his abdomen at the thought of being let in on whatever this is.

“Wanna help me out?” Eddie tilts his head toward you and that’s when Steve realizes that both you and him are fully naked. Clothes shed in the fast moments between kisses and yet Eddie still has his jeans on. Steve could break out his machismo here, could challenge this and let it be over quick and fast and typical or he could let the reigns go for a night. He thinks about letting himself not be in charge as Eddie moves above him while nudging you forward, knees straddling his hips and before he knows it he’s almost fucking you.

“That feel good baby?” Eddie’s teeth glint in the low light when he bites lightly at your cheek and leaves another mark of red and gold. You laugh breathily and nod your head, pushing your hips down just a little and the head of Steve’s cock pushes in. Both of you gasp and Steve thinks he feels a tear escape. The immediate wet surrounding him and the little display Eddie is putting on above him goes right to his balls and for a moment he thinks he won’t last past this. Eddie’s other hand trails down your stomach, fingers seeking further and further until they reach your bush and the gold rings distract Steve for just a second before they sink into your folds.

You crumple and slide down his cock further and Steve is trying to be respectful, as respectful as he can be, but he’s testing his own limits. A swift buck of his hips and he’d be home.

“I think you should give Steve a break, he looks like he’s loosing brain cells.” Eddie keeps you pressed to him, head lolled back and mouth open and panting, hips searching out his teasing fingers on your clit. “C’mon, give it up for Stevie.” He fake pouts at you and then turns it on Steve.

“Fuck you Ed-“ He’s cut off by the fall of your hips now seated flush against him. Everything about you is warm and wet and soft and amplified. His hands fist into the sheets beside him in an attempt to keep them to himself for the first time tonight, an attempt that Eddie calls out.

“You can touch her Steve, she isn’t gonna break.” He demonstrates this by digging his fingers in a little around your neck and you squeeze around Steve in response. “You want him to touch you, right?”

“Please.”

“Oh, she’s asking so nicely.”

Steve tries to think back to the first time he ever made a passing comment about you and wishes he could kick himself. He’d gone into this night with one other threesome under his belt, some half met happenstance from ten years ago. It’d been sloppy and messy and he’d bent the two girls around to his will but this? He’s unprepared. Any and all of his personal history with Eddie should have given him some kind of clue, but the two of you really are nothing but a flashing red light of trouble.

Your knees dig into his sides while one hand ghosts over his abdomen, looking for purchase. Eddie still holds you close but keeps his eyes on Steve, a suggestion in his gaze.

“Go ahead.” Eddie purrs and Steve finds himself lost in more than just his high. If he didn’t know any better he’d be convinced of his friend’s true nature, a pest of a demon hellbent on driving Steve certifiably insane. However he finds his hands running hot over your thighs and up your sides, over your stomach and under the swell of your breast. Anywhere he can run his hands over the soft skin you’d kept barely hidden all night, skin that he’d been staring at.

Eddie chuckles when Steve finds a nipple, a fierce pinch to it making you gasp and roll your hips and Steve can’t help himself anymore. He grips and thrusts up to punch a sharp moan out of you. Eddie’s fingers stay buried in your cunt and splayed across your throat to keep you pinned to his chest. Steve’s immediate fast pace makes you bounce and he’s transfixed when Eddie sneaks a finger into your hanging mouth to hold your jaw open.

“You should hear her.” He drops a kiss to the corner of your mouth before letting go, lowering you to lay on Steve’s chest. A whine comes from you, a deep sound that pitches up when Steve shifts to hold you in place. He already sits so deep but when he winds his arm around your neck to hold you close you gasp. You can feel Eddie move on the bed, can feel his hand run over your ass, can feel the brush of his suddenly freed cock along your inner thigh. Steve adjust you so your cheek is flat against him and pulls at your hip to spread you open for Eddie.

“Fuck now isn’t that a pretty sight?” His thumb is rough against such sensitive skin when he glides it around your cunt. You try to move your hips as much as you can but the angle you’re at only affords you short rolls of your hips.

“Oh you can do better than that for Steve, can’t you?” Eddie teases and you whine into Steve’s chest.

“He’s being mean isn’t he?” Steve whispers to you. They both laugh at your groan but Steve shushes you, palm rubbing over the back of your neck where he holds you down. “I’ll be the nice one then, huh?”

Struck dumb by the feeling of Eddie pushing forward ever so slightly, all you can do is nod. He tilts your chin up to hold your gaze, his pupils blown out wide and dark and you wonder if yours look just as big.

“Can I—“ Cut off by the feeling of something cold dripping on your ass you almost sit up out of Steve’s grip before Eddie giggles a quiet apology and tosses a little bottle of lube over the side of the bed.

“What do you want?”

“Coke.” The zing is fading and you want to feel it again. The race of goosebumps across your bared flesh. The tingle over your scalp as Steve’s finger glides along your teeth.

Eddie laughs and reaches over to grab the bag and hand it to Steve, tasking him with your request. Still held in place, Steve brings his finger, wet now and dipped in white again, back to your mouth. His finger rubs your gums again and the head of his cock nudging deep and the feel of Eddie’s pressing where Steve already is and you don’t know how much more full you can get. It’s a stretch just with Steve but the insistent pressure from Eddie, the feel of his cockhead popping in makes your breath catch. He’s being careful, just so careful but that need to feel everything and move and moan takes over again and Eddie puts a heavy hand on your back.

“Breathe, baby.”

Instead you whine, held between two solid bodies that keep you still, that stroke your spine and run rough fingers into your hair to keep you from spinning out.

“That’s a pretty sound.” Steve says lowly and out of the corner of your eye you watch him hold his hand up to Eddie who sucks that same finger into his mouth.

The thought is brought to the forefront of your mind quickly, the image so clear and grounding, of Eddie sucking your purple strap. It stops the other spinning thoughts and that initial head rush fades. Against Steve’s chest you mumble about Eddie’s pretty sounds, dazedly watching Steve’s long finger pop out from between those gold lips.

“What was that?” Steve sounds a little breathless.

“Eddie makes pretty sounds too.” The images shuffle in your brain. “When I fuck him he whines and it’s like he’s about to cry or something it’s almost too much.” Behind you Eddie laughs and thrust his hips and you choke on your words, his cock pushing further in and stretching you more. Steve’s laugh turns into a hiss and the hand on your neck clamps down when Eddie’s cock rubs against his.

“Keep talking.” Eddie is breathless but still the only one not blissed out. “You gonna tell him how good I look sucking dick?” He rocks his hips forward gently and ghosts a palm over your lower back. “Steve already knows about that, don’t you big guy?” Eddie teases before leaning over you to catch Steve’s eye. The smear of gold on his bottom lip drives Eddie crazy and the laugh turned stuttered moan when he drives deeper into you makes him wish he had more than just two hands.

“Or maybe Steve can tell you about when I’d drive out for those big parties.”

You like it when Eddie’s gets mouthy. When he starts sparring to get the upper hand. You’re smiling into Steve’s chest with just the barest glimpses of Eddie above you. He rocks in and out of the corner of your vision and under your ear you can hear the rumble of Steve trying his best to keep it together.

“Remember almost getting caught in the frat your freshman year? What a bunch of dumbasses.” Eddie’s laugh has an edge to it now and your chest swells with some kind of pride that he’s finally starting to falter.

“Yeah…b-because you c-couldn’t shut up.” Steve finally speaks, his hips starting to falter the slow rhythm he’d been keeping up. “It’s why we had to mo-ve to the van.”

Eddie’s hand appears when he lays his whole body on you so he can reach for Steve’s hair to give it a tug. The change in angle and Steve’s moans cancel out any quip you were trying to cobble together, a calm instead seeping in as the coil low in your abdomen begins to tighten. Eddie runs his mouth but you can’t pay attention to him with the way him and Steve seem to work in tandem for a blissful moment.

It’s too much and it’s not enough and you pant and whine and scratch at Steve’s chest. There’s no more rhythm then, just the snapping of their hips against you while they race to their own ends. Steve grips you hard before he slams his hips up one last time and stills, a long groan from deep in his chest your only warning before he cums. It’s a chain reaction of Steve going boneless and Eddie cursing behind you, picking up pace and bullying that tender spot enough to make you seize up. It sneaks up on you so fast, makes you loose your breath for a moment. A leg shaking orgasm, your fingers wound tightly enough in Steve’s hair to make him hiss, all you can hear is the guttural groan coming from you and Eddie’s praise. It tumbles out of his mouth with little sense and you know he’s done in when his thumbs rub tight, fast circles on your hip before he stills.

Hearing and speech aren’t really a thing for you yet but you do grunt in appreciation when Steve seems to come to some of his senses and reaches up to pull the stupid horns off of Eddie’s head that’s resting between your shoulder blades.

“Thanks.” Eddie’s breath fans over your sweaty skin and he makes no attempt at moving yet. Someone has fingers in your hair, you can’t tell, and Eddie is rubbing his face against you and giving you little kisses along your shoulder. Steve’s breathing is finally calming down and in turn it makes you even out too, realizing how sticky you are everywhere.

“I hate to break this up,” Your voice is scratchy and small coming from between them, “but I need to go to the bathroom.”

You stumble back into the room, falling down into the bedding and Eddie slithers up from where he was sitting at the foot of the bed to leave a trail of kisses all the way up. He winds himself between your legs and drapes them over his hips and continues to leave kisses up your stomach and over the peeling prosthetic on your chest. He dots your neck and cheeks and all around your mouth before he finally gives you a real kiss. He makes you giggle with his doting and when he tries to put your underwear back on for you but the straps outwit him. Instead he tugs on the sheet beneath you and tucks in around you, leaving your clothes on the floor for later.

“Do you need anything?” He says it quietly, thinking Steve is dozing beside you. “Other than water I mean.”

You’re tired and achey and still high from various things and all you can think to ask for is: “Crackers.”

“In bed?” Eddie gives you an unbelieving look but when you just grin sleepily at him he shrugs. “I won’t kick you out.” He gets up slowly and kicks stuff around on the floor to find his own shirt when the shifting of bed springs grabs his attention. Steve is seemingly trying to sneak out of the bed without saying anything, keeping his back to the two of you while he toes his underwear over to himself.

Eddie waits for some kind for acknowledgement but when it doesn’t come he clears his throat lightly. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He says it like he’s surprised that you and Eddie are still there. “I’m gonna get out of your hair…I gotta make sure no one set anything on fire and like, find Rob…” He looks around for his pants and won’t meet Eddie’s eyes.

“I’m just going to get water, you don’t have to leave. It’s your room anyways.”

“Well I’m not kicking you guys out.”

“Steve.” You don’t mean to admonish him but that’s what happens. With the sheet tucked up around your chest you pull on the slack to show the other side of the bed. “Get back in here.”

He doesn’t move, just sighs deeply and reaches for his cigarettes.

“I’m serious.”

Eddie watches you point at the empty spot with some finality and he almost tells Steve it’s in his best interest to listen to you.

“I just—“

“It’s cold. I’m cold. Get back in the bed.” You slap the pillow. “Please.”

Steve does look at Eddie then with concern and all Eddie can do is chuckle. “I’d get back in there unless you like spit in your iced lattes for the next however long.” He leaves for the promised water and Steve sits on the edge of the bed and acts like you’re making him go to the dentist.

“Hey, if you want to leave you can, I was trying to be funny.”

“I didn’t want to intrude.” Steve sighs and throws himself back onto the pillow. “You guys were having a moment.”

You pull a confused face. “Do I need to remind you what we were just doing?”

“No.” Steve laughs.

“Because I can’t give you graphic detail but I can tell you that I got pretzeled up pretty good.” You reach over to rub a hand over his chest, running your fingers through the dark curls. Eddie sneaks back in and you notice the music isn’t at the level it was when you came in here.

Around the blinds is a light blue border bleeding in and you would really like to bury your head under the covers and keep petting Steve. Eddie makes you drink water though before anyone can get comfortable, even bullies Steve into finishing his. Eddie does his normal and climbs into bed to immediately lay half on your back, his arm flung over to mess with Steve until he relents and tilts his head over so Eddie can twirl a strand around.

Tucked between the two of them you’re almost asleep when you remember something from the heat of it all and you shake with silent laughter.

“What?” Eddie asks and Steve gives you a half awake eyebrow raise.

“You know he’s a tiefling right?”

That wakes Steve up a little. “What?”

“Yeah, his tiefling bard. You called him a demon earlier and it made me laugh.”

Steve sighs and ignores your sleep talk and you try to expound but the heavy, comforting weight of Eddie and Steve’s warm chest under your palm cut you off before you even realize you’ve fallen asleep.

[choco-bite]

First of all this is nsfw blog so i do not want any minors lurking around here. Shooo! You don’t belong here. This blog is not for you.

And people over 18 please put your age in your bio or I’ll block you. I need your age visible when i stalk your blog from reblogs

Hello, myself J (picky for telling my name) 26yo switch leaning soft dominant. Lately I’ve been enjoying posting about being a sub so there’s that. My pronouns are he/him and I’m straight. Do not ask for personal details if we get comfortable I’ll tell you. I’m very much flirtatious so i like to flirt with everyone when i get the chance and the right opportunity. Also I’m a writer. A true hopeless romantic by heart. Sometimes im clingy, get obsessive and pretty possessive. I’m here to have fun and explore my kinks and meet similar minded people.

Spamming is a love language for me. If i like your blog, I’ll spam you, like your posts a lot and may drop a cute ask.

I may or may not follow you. I would like to follow those who posts their own thoughts here. I’m tired of seeing the same posts over and over through reblogs. So if you’re blog with just reblogs I won’t follow you.

– My kink includes:

Breeding, praise kink, degradation kink, humiliation kink, somno kink, ddlg, mdlb, pregnancy, piss kink, dirty talk, spanking, anal, rimming, orgasm control, orgasm denial, total power exchange, roleplay, adult nursing relationship & more

– my limit includes:

Scat, gore, vomit, sharing, threesomes, foursomes, hardcore stuff, balls kicking, licking shoes, licking floor, toilet stuff will include more later

Title/honorifics I prefer: daddy/dad (when domming)

Title/honorifics i want to call you by: mommy (when subbing)

Petnames i would like to call you by:- princess, babygirl, little girl, little doll, angel, sweetheart, baby, darling, cutiepie

Petnames i adore: baby, my babyboy, cute boy, little boy, sweetheart, darling, my love, my little prince

Dm is open for anyone right now. I maybe closing or opening as i see fit. I work and sometimes it gets hectic for me to reply. It’s not you just my stupid work. I’m always down to make friends tho. Hit me up anytime <3

My telegram:- homesickforyou

However I’m not much of a conversation starter. If you want to talk just hit me up. I don’t mind 💋

Aftercare is everything

Consent is everything

do not kink shame or I’ll block you on site

my posts under tag: choco typing

My asks under tag: choco spilling

few tags I adore: oh mommy & me and who

reblog if my posts made you cum, twitchy, leaky, creamy

If you’ve cummed to my posts you’re obligated to tell me [and give me something as a gift 🫢🎀]

stay safe, stay healthy and be kinky

l love you 3000

Divider credits goes to: @saradika-graphics @steddiecameraroll-graphics @anitalenia

[asce-of-hearts]

🦘Don’t tell me these touches meant nothing

and maybe 

🕷 One day you’ll love me back. And that day, I’ll be sure to make you mine.

For yandere ace or Luffy ? I think it would suit them , with a darling who a very affectionate person only for darling to friend zone Ace/Luffy😈~

Those Who Persevere

Contents: Yandere!Ace with prompts 🦘and 🕷.

more Ace content here

TAG LIST

PROMPT LIST

WARNINGS: YANDERE, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP (FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS), NSFW-ISH, OBSESSIVE AND POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, USAGE OF THE WORD WIFE OTHERWISE GENDER NEUTRAL, GN!READER, READER IS KIND OF MEAN BUT WHATEVER.

"Fuck, baby. I'm gonna make you my wife someday." He grunts, all of his muscles tensing as he pumps your insides full of cum. His body cages yours, and your nails rake down his toned, freckled back as he grinds against you, just for good measure.

After you both come down from your high, after you're both cleaned up and only laying in bed, you drop the bomb.

"Can you stop saying things like that?" His eyes dart towards your body, you seem uncomfortable, even when your body doesn't pull away from his warmth as he's cuddling you.

"Things like what?" He asks, cocking a brow. He was just about to fall asleep when you had to open your mouth.

"About us getting married and stuff. I don't know if it turns you on or whatever, but it makes me really uncomfortable." Ironically enough, he freezes for a moment. Only staring at your face as you gently rub his arm, trying to soothe him in case his feelings got hurt. You sigh. "Look, Ace. I- I really like you, alright? You're incredible in bed, and I enjoy it when we also go out and do other stuff. But- uhm... I don't... love you." You give him an awkward smile. "You get it, right? We're just... really good friends who have really good sex."

"What the fuck are you even saying?" He turns to cage you against the bed again, he looks hurt, furiously hurt. The sweat on his skin evaporating as soon as he looks at you, like he's about to burst in flames. "Really- Really good friends?" He asks, letting out a humorless chuckle. "Really good friend!? Since fucking when!?" The bed-sheets are burning under his fingertips, and you feel scared, agitated. Ace has never given you a reason to feel threatened, not even when you knew about his past, his quirks, his sheer power. So how is he becoming so menacing in this moment.

"Come on, Ace. Just- Just calm down, alright? Let's talk about this!"

"I don't want to talk! I want to understand. How- Why?" The look of hurt in his face is making you feel bad, you avert your gaze, biting the inside of your cheek. "Don’t tell me these touches meant nothing..." He asks in a whimper, his hands searching for yours, tangling your fingers together.

"Of course they meant something. Just... just not what you think." You murmur, trying to let go of his hand without seeming too cruel. Although in that second, every thing you do or say seems so cruel to him. "I'm sorry, Ace. I didn't think you felt that way. If I knew that I would've... walked away, to not hurt you."

"You're not walking away." He growls, he lines his cock with your entrance again, and pushes forward, making you gasp, your toes curling at just how good the tip of his dick feels pressing against your sweet spots. "I don't care how, I don't care if it takes months or years or centuries. One day you’ll love me back. And that day, I’ll be sure to make you mine."

ghhkkkhkhghhhhhh i need him

hope you enjoyed this!!!

Have a great day/night

TAGGING:  @bookandyarndragon @massivepenguinunknown @yukimutsu @anieluvs @eroscastle

@aenbyveryverygayperson @goldenglow149  @lurexin @hbk99450 @stranger00001

@DelicatelyCraftedBambi @kitzusune @yeonieesss @3v37773 @420a1lday

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@cherycheryblossomsweet @mimihaitani

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[randybutternubber]

My idiot chud son, Rusty

And the backstory I made tf up for him if anyone wants to read it plus my analysis of him as a character.

This is my design for him. looks ridiculous 💔💔💔

These are the clothes I imagine he would perform in. He also has a cleft lip, I think this kind is called unilateral incomplete. Not sure how well I drew it so if anyone was curious abt what it was there you go

Okay I’m going to paste my HCs about him under a cut because this is long and I would feel bad flooding the tag

By the way, only the last part of this write up is actually written somewhat well/in a more narrative way. I was just doing a quick write up months ago but I got overly excited half way through and went nuts, but couldn’t carry that energy back to the beginning.

I promise if you can get through the sloppy stuff the last part might actually be worth it. It’s still sloppy but I had fun. I tried to clean it up but eh. I’ll just mark when I started going nuts so the tonal whip lash is more palatable. Enjoy the shit I made up about my stupid chudling. Tell me what you think about my brain diarrhea

The premise of my HC backstory for him is that Rusty took care of his mother from a young age because she was suffering from huntington's disease after they immigrated to the counties.

Huntington’s is a cruel disease, and it does not kill quickly. It’s a slow and degenerative death.

His mother was a refugee from the Korean War- a stowaway, as was he- leaving him unable to ask for assistance when his mother changed.

He was conceived not a long time before his mother left but months before they would arrive. he would never know his father, not even his name , only that he was unlike his mother- white, not “oriental”.

And he, as a result, was treated as neither by both sides- all except for his mother.

When he was 9 He worked on the docks to a small, dirty little pier fair. He’d sweep up droppings from small unseen life, clean up piles of sick, and sift through thin sand under the docks for lost change to supplement his paltry salary.

but, as all children do, he’d sometimes slack off to watch the shows. He wished he could walk on the tightropes or swing from the trapeze- he wanted to fly too.

His mother scared him. she didn’t recognize him sometimes, and he couldn’t recognize her at all, but he was crushed with the guilt of wanting to leave her, because without him, she would die, and if he stayed, he would grow up to become like her.

For context, Huntington’s disease is a genetic disorder and if one of your parents has it the chance of you interesting it is very high.

Rusty’s mom also became erratic and sometimes aggressive- something that can happen to people with Huntington’s disease.

She would have episodes of rage and extreme confusion. Rusty didn’t understand why his mom changed, and he would often climb onto the roof of the house. He was terrified of heights but more scared of his mother.

(This is the part where I got too excited and actually started seriously writing)

One day, there was a great cargo ship that docked near the fair. He stared at it blankly. His hands were wet with spittle from trying to help brush her teeth, and there was a deep convex wound blossoming on his right.

She had cried today when she saw what she had done, a thin pink discharge coating her teeth like cheap veneers. He wished she had yelled, not beg for him to hug her while he stood inanimate and still, urine tricking down his leg and his bitten hand thumping like a second heart.

He boarded in secret and was a stowaway in all forms.

He slept among the cargo, in the freighter’s ice cold stomach and laid there, smothered and compact in the dark, laid to rest by the ships metronome sway.

And so he drifted into a world so similar yet different, infested with life of all shapes and sizes, some so spectacular that they could make crowds roar, and others so abhorred and aberrant that they would likely find themselves out of place even in the most exotic menageries.

And still there were others, children of all creeds, tongues, and complexion. They would stare at him with their little dormice eyes, heads popping up and disappearing as soon as they had emerged, like puppets in a shooting gallery. But when under the spotlight and draped in ridiculous costumes that hid the gaps between their ribs, they were brilliant and spectacular- they glowed, and Rusty- Rusty glowed too.

there were lights, sword swallowers, fire breathers, and funambulist- human canon balls, tigers tamed by wild children with whips, roaring audiences, and man dressed in purple- a companion to the diminutive doll-man perched on his lap.

And so he drifted deeper into Nowhere. And then I didn’t write the end but he got trafficked into the fuckinb carnivale and now gets bullied by borderline geriatric gay men.

Rusty’s back story mainly focuses on themes of escapism, abandonment, and the fear of growing up. He’s trapped in between two looming hells- growing up in the nowhere to become as morally bankrupt as any other adult, or to live in the waking world with the possibility that he could die a slow, degenerative death.

Because of this, Rusty is mainly motivated by desperation and feeling like he needs to escape. Similarly to how the devs said that the monsters lack goals but more follow these base urges, pretty much their id, rusty feels that pull too, deep in his tummy, and it’s got him guthooked.

But how do you escape two, almost certainly inevitable fates. Would you choose the certainty of becoming a monster and retaining your autonomy, or would you wait years, building up a life that you know has a very real chance of being dismantled by an incurable illness?

If rusty has survived my idea is that he would have become a Houdini like magician for the funfair, being locked up in absurd contraptions and escaping them on stage. He never stops running, never stops writhing away, always escaping.

He’s very much a “chew your own leg off to escape the bear trap” type character

And every time he escapes he ends up in another hell, another trap, out of the frying pan into the fire and then back again.

He was born as a result of an escape, and he died the same way. Even if he never got the chance to inherit her illness, he may be more like his mother than he will ever know.

Rusty is a sad character. Some people strongly dislike him for what he did to noone, which I understand, but I genuinely think it was due to desperation and some serious lack of foresight (my idiot chud son) At the end of the day though, he did end up using her, and I do think that part of him knew that and still did it. Rusty effectively threw her under the bus, and, intentionally or not, used her as bait.

At the same time though, Rusty likely suffered abuse for years at the hands of the ringmaster and dummy, along with maybe even the other performers to a lesser extent. I don’t think it’s fair to treat him as a villain like some people do to him (to a much lesser extent) and six

I see him in a similar boat to six in some ways. Even though he’s a teenager (I HC him as 16) he’s lacked a proper social structure for what can be assumed to be a massive chunk of his life, so he’s definitely way more immature if that makes sense. He hasn’t had time to grow in a way that wasn’t induced by trauma and pain. The environment of the carnivale itself is perfect for breeding resentment between performers, and Rusty is the star.

People often want to think they’d do the right thing in high stakes situations, but just one split second decision can turn you from victim to villain in the eyes of others.

It is incredibly hard to predict how we will react in life or death situations, and I feel very bad for Rusty despite all his flaws.

I also feel for noone too since she never even got a chance to process Rusty’s assumed death. Not to mention she never seemed to realize that she was essentially being manipulated by him- after all, it seems like Noone is used to that kind of treatment from not only her peers, but the adults around her.

They’re both deeply traumatized children, and Rusty is my idiot chud son.