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changeling-droneco · 3 months ago

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Hi I'm that person who made the original post about "no doesn mean no" when a small bit of the mr beast company document was leaked, well, now we have the full document (thanks rosanna) so I'm going to go over it. Please note I am not a lawyer or a business man, I'm in college for psychology, so I might misunderstand some things or make the wrong conclusion. However, if this is a document made for the average mr. beast employee, if I cannot understand it properly, then im sure some employees also struggled

First of all, the opening paragraph. Like I get it's supposed to be like, to put people at ease, but

This is so strange? Like, first of all, this is your EMPLOYEE MANUAL, you should have run it through like, a spell check? Or had someone edit it? This is already incredibly unprofessional. Also the promising of a thousand dollars if you pass a quiz on it? It's bizarre and I'd love to see if it's an actual quiz.

Jimmy, hun, please god get an editor for this you're already trying my patience.

YOU SHOULD, you genuinely should, while interconnected these are all COMPLETELY different jobs, if you think you could write a separate manual for each branch you SHOULD

I'm sure I'm about to get an answer but what the fuck is the best YOUTUBE video then? If it's not comedy, its not production, its not quality, its not look, then what the hell is left? (monetization, it's monetization)

First of all, Jimmy, why are you using internet lingo in this, it's not a text message, this is not a place for, idc, and lol, and not capitalizing your headers correctly??? Also like I said, he's chasing trends for monetization, and also he's just wrong, there are plenty of hollywood level shows and the like on youtube. You fully admit you do not care about trends and actively rush things?

This is just fucked??? Like of COURSE IT MATTERS??? Results based company is bullshit, your employees that worked for five weeks and failed aren't "lesser" then James, it's a structural failure! They still worked for HOURS to try and succeed?? That shows merit and loyalty??? What the fuck???

Rosanna covers this one in her video but it's worth restating that this is FUCKED??? It's clear overwork "your job is your family" culture. Especially the use of the word obsessive? If you do not OBSESS over your work, you are considered poisonous. NO WONDER we have so many reports of employees doing things they feel is dangerous or unsafe, if they don't they're considered POISON to the company.

The formatting in this doc continues to fucking kill me, what are you DOING man GET AN EDITOR

This feels like such an easy fix of just...make the thumbnail after the fact? Or only make a rough draft of one first? Like if production makes a red bouncy castle instead of a yellow one, that feels like an easy fix to the thumbnail OR a communication error, and again, that's on management

A lot of the next stuff is like analytics stuff that for the most part I can't really speak on as someone who does not do any of this stuff. There are a few things though

Which like???? what??? a lull??? what do you mean "watching a video without even realizing they are watching a video??" That doesn't scream good or even mediocre content to me. If I'm actively tuning out as I watch a video, that's bad. Especially because there have been plenty of times I've been like half way through a video i go "hey this sucks actually" and click off. They actively want their audience to not be paying attention to the video so it runs all the way through, that's kinda pathetic.

I don't actually know if this is common or not in this industry, but as an outsider this seems INCREDIBLY micromanaging to me, to an immense degree.

Jimmy why are you putting swears in your employee manual?? sir??? and also something about this whole thing icks me out, I don't quite have the words but the whole emphasis on "im different im special no one else can be me" just reeks of something kind of manipulative

Why is production changing so much Jimmy??? Infinite growth is the mindset of a cancer cell Jimmy! This is incredibly unstable working conditions! Also again with the word obsession, if you take time out of your own day on your own time to watch hulu, that's seen as not being obsessed enough for the company. This is nonsensical!

Again, this is INSANELY micromanaging, and also so fucking unhinged??? "God himself couldn't stop you from making this video on time" is NOT a healthy work mindset, things HAPPEN!!!

In this segment he's actually talking normal things but I did just want to highlight his use of "freaken" who the hell puts that in an EMPLOYEE MANUEL

Again with the micromanaging, and the immense pressure on employees for problems OTHER people do. While he's not fully wrong that you should be in more contact with the contractor then the example, this is too much in the other direction. How much time in the day does he think people have?!

My kingdom for a fucking paragraph break dude, my fucking eyes. Also this is a lot of "im so great and do everything and you should do more for me and if i dont know something that's your fault" for something titled "I am not always right"

I'm getting lazy with my highlighting, but again, the micromanaging? If you're SOOO busy, the first question should be the ideal? it's quick and makes a quick decision, while the second one meanders and meanders

Again, Jimmy is pushing blame for HIS mistakes on OTHER PEOPLE. For again, a section called "i am not always right" hes taking NO accountability for that and just making the SAME excuses he's berating in other places.

I can't even tell what he means here AN EDITOR JIMMY

Autism Hell tm, PLEASE email me so I can DOUBLE CHECK IT, things in writing are SO useful

Again the language towards "C-Players" which as mr beast has said, are the people who y'know, are NORMAL employees who DON'T live and breathe this company

Okay first of all, a Lamborghini is like 300k so that's already A REALLY hard task, and i sure hope don't usually put typos in the tasks. SECOND of all the fact he thinks its okay to go "hey if the studio is literally on fire around you and you stop working to get the Lamborghini, you're not doing good enough" even if he claims it as a joke is NOT OKAY what the FUCK

We've covered this before, but to reiterate this segment is named after a sexual assault reference when it could have been named ANYTHING ELSE and harasses employees and pressures them to break rules, don't do that.

I'm not an editor, so maybe this is normal, but as someone from the outside it seems strange to put this much emphasis on dividing focus between so many videos at once.

Jimmy, hun, are you paying extra for this? Because if I'm an editor and you want me FILMING stuff then i want to be paid more for doing TWO jobs and I probably still wont be as skilled a TRAINED CAMERA MAN

First of all now THAT'S a type, consteatants. Also the fact they are aware that leaving contestants out in the sun is bad, why are you not doing MORE TO STOP IT BEYOND "hey maybe giving them three hours of heatstroke is bad, try only two next time"

Don't we love favoritism, more shitty unprofessional writings, and a completely unstable work environment?

If your people have to pull all nighters period something is wrong, and if something happens to an employees car that could have seriously hurt someone, i sure hope you care more then just "LOL FUNNY" Who's picking up the broken glass? Who's reimbursing the car owner? That one meme of "your first care should be commitment to the bit" is a MEME jimmy, it's not ACTUAL ADVICE

Ah shit I hit image limit, well, you've seen enough screenshots to know these are screenshots, we're almost done I'll put them in as quotes

"Let’s say you are tasked with finding us a castle to live in for 50 hours and while doing research you find a castle and a number to call for the owner. So you do call, and he answers. Only problem is he says he quit the castle renting business to pursue his dream of building a 100 foot tall lego catapult. You can obviously tell where i’m going with this. Ideally you’d recognize that’s badass as fuck and try to convince him to let us use it when we do find a castle. This is a bad example because it’s so obvious but if you’re doing your job right you will be doing an absurd amounts of calls and data collecting. While trying to complete your prios and prepare for the video you should always be on the lookout for new things you can bring to your creative team to inspire them. Because just like me, they don’t know what they don’t know and you can’t just say “i’m in production and i’m not very creative” because that’s literally the equivalent of saying I suck at what I do. You also need to apply this same mindset when problem solving because many people lose sight of this stuff when in the weeds. If a problem appears, always always always ask yourself if your new plan is whats best for creative, not just the easiest bandaid."

First of all it's really funny seeing all the red lines pop up, second of all this insistent blurring of everyone's job seems so strange? Again maybe this is normal, but it really feels like Jimmy wants everyone working every job, instead on focusing on what they are actually hired to do.

"What is the goal of our content?

To excite me. The goal of our content is to excite me. That may sound weird to some of you, especially if you’re new but to me it’s what’s most important. If I'm not excited to get in front of that camera and film the video, it’s just simply not going to happen."

That's fucking weirddddd, like I get that he's trying to be like "im authentic" but it always feels like a bad sign when the goal of a company is literally just "What amuses the boss" like...bad sign

"this is youtube and there are constraints. You know the video can’t be a minute so you’re obviously going to need a story to hold the viewers and there are rules to storytelling. Our audience is massive and because of that you have to be simple, for 50 million people to understand something it must be simple. Content can be anything but there is structure and rules that we must mold it into that I want to teach you about, because virality doesn’t just happen. Every frame of our videos will be seen by 10s of millions of people"

Gross

"I'd say the average MrBeast viewer is a teenage memer that likes video games."

Mr Beast is completely aware of his demographic and puts screen shots of it, he is very aware his stuff is aimed at kids, even when its about gambling or hiring people not around near minors

"I feel silly for having to write this but all the time I talk to 32 new people that have at most seen like 5 or 6 of our videos and it’s mind blowing that they don’t see a problem with that lol."

It's almost like your audience is teenage memer and that people who working here are not in fact, teenage memers.

"What you consume on social media, when you watch youtube, tv, the games you play, etc. are what I like to call your information diet.

How do you stay up to date on the latest memes? How do you know what’s going on with celebrities? What’s trending on youtube? What other creators are doing? What’s popping on tik tok? Your information diet. Consume things on a daily basis that help you write better content."

If my job as a creative writer had my boss tell me to have to see whats "popping on tik tok" as part of my job i'd quit also again, the micromanaging of someone's life as well pops up again, it's weirddd

"It’s okay for the boys to be childish

If talent wants to draw a dick on the white board in the video or do something stupid, let them. (assuming they know all the risks and arn’t missing context on why it’s not safe) People like when we are in our natural element of stupidity. Really do everything you can to empower the boys when filming and help them make content. Help them be idiots"

More favoritism

"If you’ve made it this far you are probably at least semi interested in this being your career. So I wanted to chat about it. Because if you're ambitious and want to dedicate your life to work, you picked the best company in America to do it at. I really don’t care to hoard a bunch of money and I deeply believe in rewarding the people that help this business get where it needs to be. But before I get into that, let’s talk about the future. As I write this we have 2 teams, that will grow to 4 in the next year. (and possibly 8 in the next 2 years but I can’t talk about that cause james will kill me haha). We need more leaders in the company. Weneed hard working, obsessive, coachable, intelligent, grinders that can step up and take some of these leadership spots over the next 2 years. Every single department has an opportunity for you to grow in and you’re in luck because we don’t do yearly reviews. We do whenever the fuck you want reviewes"

Lack of communication from management, and more emphasis on grinding and crunch culture, goodie, all while riddled with typos! God.

"I see a world where this company is worth billions and one day 10s of billions. And those of you that help build this will be rewarded. I want nothing more then for you to go all in, obsessive all day everyday, and become so god dam valuable this company can’t operate without you. And in return for becoming so valuable I hope to give you incredible experiences, a fun place to work, and of course, more money then you could ever dream of making at any other company."

I feel like I'm reading a fucking pyramid scheme document here, "youre so so valuable spend literally every minute of every day on this company haha" good GOD man

#mr beast #rosanna pansino #dogpack404 #jake weddle #this has been three am thoughts

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moonlightspencie · 2 years ago

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This Ain’t for the Best

Description: Mutual pining. Classic hunting scenarios. Sharing a bed. Wearing the other’s clothes. Confessions. Friends to lovers. Tswizzle title. Need I say more?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!Reader

Warnings: a little bit of violence, me cramming in every cliché i can because i love the classic fanfiction tropes more than i love breathing

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: i was kicking my feet and giggling as i wrote this, especially when i snuck in criminal minds AND taylor swift references. i love writing and never beta-reading or editing what i’ve written. catharsis.

Crashing at Bobby’s had its benefits.

First, we had the comfort of knowing where we were going to sleep at night. It was good to have a bed waiting that wasn’t in a motel room.

Second, there was almost always good food around. I had a knack for home-cooked meals, and it was much easier to be appreciated for it when I actually had a stove to cook on.

Third, there were boundless opportunities for Sam, Dean, and I to kick back and actually relax.

That’s how I ended up in the kitchen, laughing with Dean over old stories we’d told a million times before. He reached in the fridge, pulling out two bottles after we’d come down from the most recent remembrance of an old case. He cracked open the top of his beer, then my drink, sliding it towards me on the counter. Sam and Bobby strolled in st that moment, pausing when they saw us.

“You both woke up like an hour ago,” Sam said, unamused.

“6pm somewhere,” Dean and I said in unison.

We looked at each other with a small laugh, leaving Bobby and Sam rolling their eyes. I took my drink and stood a few steps away.

“We should really get going, though, Dean,” Sam stated.

“Where?” Bobby asked.

“We were planning on doing a run to the grocery story. I don’t want us to eat up all your food without repaying you, and we’re almost out of beer,” Sam said, pointedly looking at his brother.

“This one needs more of those little fruity drinks, too,” Dean teased, nodding at the bottle in my hand.

“Hey, it’s still a malt liquor. Just one that I like,” I said with a laugh.

They said their goodbyes, and I started walking into the front room. Bobby watched the door for a few moment after the boys left, then turned in the archway and locked his gaze on me as I sat on the couch.

I looked at the bottle in my hand. “I know y’all are all about beer, but I can’t help if I prefer something with a little flavor.”

“That’s not why I’m looking at you,” he grumbled, fed up with me already. “What in the world is goin’ on with you and Dean?”

“Huh?”

He furrowed his brow. “Don’t act all shy, now. You two have been flirting nonstop lately.”

“What’s new? We’re both pretty flirtatious in general.”

“Not like this,” he said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know the last time I saw that boy blushing, or you getting all flustered like a teenager.”

“I am not,” I scoffed. “Nothing’s happening, Bobby.”

“I’ve known your for five years, now, and I’ve known those boys since they were kids. You stayed in my house for a year, too. You can’t hide this kind of thing from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything. I’m an open book.”

Now, he scoffed. “Yeah, and I’m running for president.”

I rolled my eyes, taking another drink. He came closer, sitting down next to me.

“If you keep denying all this…”

I swallowed, finally resigning. “There’s nothing to do about it, Bobby.”

“Yes, there is. You could tell him.”

“It wouldn’t do any good. You know how he is, he doesn’t want to be tied down. If we don’t make any moves or promises or whatever, a lot less doesn’t get broken.”

He raised a brow. “I do know how he is. For you, he’d make an exception.”

“I don’t think so. Besides, it’s all just flirting for him. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Are you blind?”

I looked at him, brows raising. He shook his head, picking at the label on his bottle.

“Sorry. I just— I know what I’m seeing, and I really don’t think it’s just a little friendly flirting for him, either,” he said, looking at me again. “I really think you should speak up while you’ve got the chance to. We don’t often get good things with lives like ours.”

“I know. I just don’t want to screw things up.”

“You’re gonna end up screwed if you keep pushing it down, anyway.”

I sighed. He took that signal as a time to change the subject, and for that I was thankful.

“Well, let’s find you the next case, huh?”

The next one was an easy find, and it would’ve been great to break the news to the boys when they got back, if not for a very clumsy Sam walking in the door with a twisted ankle.

“You what?” Bobby asked, incredulous.

Sam sighed, pouting. “I rolled it when I stepped in a pothole.”

Dean shook his head, clearly hiding his amusement as he helped his brother hobble towards a kitchen chair.

“So, no case, then?” I asked.

Bobby perked up. “No, you and Dean can still go. I can take care of Sam.”

“Bobby…” I warned, seeing through him instantly.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Dean said, cutting off my death stare. “When was the last time we went on a case, just you and me?”

I looked at him.

“Seriously, you guys can go without me,” Sam said. “It might be good for you, Y/N. You seem a little restless.”

“I am not,” I defended.

Bobby chuckled. “Sure, you’re not. But I’m not suggesting, I’m telling you. Get out of my house.”

I glanced at him, offended. “I am a delight.”

“You are, but I still want you out. You become much less delightful when you’re antsy.”

Dean laughed. “Come on, it’s only a state over, right? If we start driving now we can make it by sundown.”

I took a moment.

“Alright,” I nodded, heading towards the stairs to gather my things.

The case was a hot mess, to say the least. We couldn’t figure out what we were hunting to begin with, and the only true consistency is that the deaths were messy, leaving each victim with a missing liver. It wasn’t until we were at the most recent site of the death that things took a little bit of a turn.

“What do you think?” Dean asked, leaning in my direction.

I shrugged, looking around the house.

“It seems… clean.”

“I mean, I guess. We haven’t found hex bags or EMF readings—”

“No,” I cut him off, gesturing around the living room. “Like physically clean. Nothing is out of place. Look at the mantle.”

I walked over, using my gloved hand to wipe along the surface. I showed him my hand.

“Clean. Not even dust.”

He raised a brow. “And that matters because…”

“Because we’re supposed to be looking for some monster-unknown that never cleans up their messes. Every other scene we’ve been to has been a wreck, so why is the only thing out of place the blood stains on the floor? This is also the first time it’s been in the victims house.”

He paused. “You’ve been watching Criminal Minds again, haven’t you?”

I rolled my eyes, taking off the glove.

“That’s not important right now,” I shook my head, standing next to him again. “And, for the record, it’s helping our case.”

“Right,” he chuckled. “Well, profiler, why don’t you tell me more about what you’re gathering from the scene.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I said with a laugh.

He smirked, placing a hand on my back.

“Let’s get out of here and figure out why things changed.”

We followed dead-end leads all over town, until we hit a lucky streak.

“Check this out,” Dean said, calling me over to the table in our room. “Remember that dive bar our last vic was seen at? Look at this dude’s last social media post.”

I walked over, resting a hand against the table as I leaned in. I looked at the laptop, raising a brow.

“Same place.”

“Same place,” he confirmed. “Wanna check it out? See if anything suspicious is up?”

“You sure you don’t just want to hit the bar?”

He looked up at me with a quirked brow.

“What do you think I am? Drinking on the job. I’d never,” he feigned innocence.

I snorted. “Right. So not you.”

“Leave in ten?”

“Sounds good to me.”

We hit the road soon after, winding up at the bar with our eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. There was plenty for us to see in a seedy town like this, but there was only one interaction that truly piqued our interested. I nodded at the man who was paying a little too much special attention to a woman, drawing Dean’s gaze in that direction. He was equally skeeved out. We kept an eye out for another hour or so before the weird activity took another step into the creep category.

We followed out the man who we caught following the woman, all the way to a neighborhood just outside the city. We made our move as soon as the man walked up to her house.

I followed Dean up to the house, and we started to slink around, waiting for any sign of trouble. I first checked through a window near the front of the house.

“Nothing,” I said, motioning for us to move further.

He took the lead, and we came up on a window that looked into the dining room. He slowly looked inside.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be freakin’ kidding me,” Dean mumbled, pulling his head back from the window.

“What?”

“Well, do you want the chance to play out your little crime show fantasies?”

I raised a brow. He sighed, shaking his head.

“That’s not— well, it is a monster in there, but not our kind of monster,” he said, tilting his head.

“It’s a human?”

He nodded. “Looks like it. Nothing supernatural that I can see. She’s passed out now, but let’s get a move on before he starts in on her.”

He started walking towards the back of the house, but I stopped him before we got to the door.

“Can— How do we do this?”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s a human. We can’t just chop his head off or exorcise him.”

“We could still stab him.”

“But should we?”

He gave me a very unamused look, waiting for me to make my point.

“Can we attempt to just— Kick his ass and leave him to deal with life in prison? Only go for the shot if it’s necessary.”

He softened. “He killed people, Y/N, does he really deserve mercy here?”

“Do you really think the prison system is mercy?” I asked, earning a slight chuckle. “I just feel weird about killing humans unless our lives are in immediate danger.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Okay, we’ll play it your way. But if anything goes sideways—”

“Then you feel free to shoot him.”

He nodded curtly, then we continued to the door. He opened it carefully, and we stepped inside, checking our surroundings before we headed towards the woman in the dining room. We saw the man first, his back to us as he sat across the table from her.

“Playing house? Really?” Dean quipped, causing the man to whip around.

My gun was pulled before the man had a chance to stand up and react. He looked between us, obvious annoyance on his face.

“You’re not cops,” he stated.

Dean smirked. “No, we are much worse news for scumbags like you.”

“Now,” I started, “you can try and fail to fight your way out of here, or you can sit still while my partner here makes sure you’re sitting nice and pretty for when the cops do show up.”

Dean moved before he had a chance to formulate a response, dragging him out of the chair. The man tried to put up a fight, but it was pretty quickly silenced by means of a fist to the face. Dean left him on the ground after a few minutes and a roll of duct tape.

“Nice,” I commented, then put away my gun.

I moved to the woman at the table who was still passed out. I checked for a pulse, and when I was sure she was still breathing, I started undoing the binding that kept her to the chair. Dean called in an anonymous tip to the police station as I finished up clearing her of everything. She started waking right as I was about to try and move her to the couch.

“Hey, hey,” I said quietly, trying to give a little comfort before her panic set in. “You’re safe now, alright? You’re fine.”

Her eyes opened, and she immediately clung to me when she saw the man on the ground incapacitated.

“What happened?” she asked with a quivering voice.

“Me and my friend Dean saw this guy creeping around your house. We wanted to make sure everything was okay, and when we found out it wasn’t, we found a way in. The cops are on the way now.”

She nodded. “Thank you. Both of you.”

I glanced back at Dean with the ghost of a smile on my face. He raised his brows at me.

“Why don’t we get you to the couch?”

“You’re not staying?” she asked, still in shock.

“No, we gotta leave,” I said, helping her to the couch. “We’ll stick around for a few minutes outside till the cops get here, though.”

“Okay,” she nodded along absentmindedly as she laid on the couch.

I walked back to Dean, motioning for us to go outside. He looked back down at the man for a moment who was still passed out, then followed behind me. We got back to the Impala and waited.

“Weird to be thanked,” I said, watching the house.

He hummed. “Doesn’t happen often, that’s for sure.”

“I can’t believe we were accidentally hunting a serial killer.”

He snorted. “I’m surprised there’s not more crossover when we hunt.”

I hummed in agreement. “I also wonder why things changed so much. From the murders messy and public to being more confined in the homes.”

“Who knows,” he said, shaking his head. “Monsters make a hell of a lot more sense than people do.”

“You got that right.”

Soon enough we saw flashing lights coming down the street. We watched some officers step out of the first car, and a few more get out of an SUV.

“Is that FBI?” Dean asked, looking intently.

“I mean, we just found them a serial killer. They’ve probably been on high alert,” I said.

He nodded, and we watched for another moment as they prepared to go inside.

“Man, those vests are cool as hell in real life, too,” I commented.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he wrapped up the conversation with a laugh.

He pulled off the sidewalk at that, and started driving in the opposite direction of the cops. We decided to stay the night at the motel, neither of us awake enough to get back to Sam and Bobby. He pulled into the parking lot, and we trudged inside.

“At least we aren’t covered in monster guts this time,” I said as I fell onto the mattress.

“Right?” He chuckled. “Cool if I take the first shower?”

“Of course. I’ll be here.”

He shut the door of the bathroom, and I let out a sigh. All of the teamwork bull crap we’d been doing certainly didn’t help my case, but I could at least be thankful he didn’t want to go the bars and find a hookup. I threw my arms over my eyes and sighed.

“Hey,” I heard Dean’s voice call out, his hand on my knee.

I uncovered my eyes. “Sorry. Must’ve dozed off.”

He smiled. “Go take a shower.”

“You sayin’ I need one?” I asked with a quirked brow.

“Yeah. You’re a mess,” he replied, a playful glint in his eye. “I don’t know how I sat in a car with you all day, to be honest.”

I scoffed, getting up. He moved enough for me to get by, but didn’t let me get far before he started talking again.

“Movie tonight?” he asked.

I rustled through my bag, pulling out my pajama shorts.

“Sure.”

“Any requests?”

“Uh,” I started, still looking for a clean top. “Maybe a comedy. We could use something funny.”

“Good point.” He stared for a moment as I kept digging. “You missing something?”

“I can’t find my t-shirt. I thought I packed three in here.”

“Do you want one of mine?”

I paused, considering the offer. One one hand, I wouldn’t have to wear a cami to bed and risk accidentally flashing him in my sleep. One the other, I’d be wearing his shirt and that would be a sure way to get me in my own head. The risks of the first definitely outweighed my lack of self control.

“That would be awesome.”

He walked to his own bag, pulling out a shirt that matched the one he wore and handing it to me.

“I still think wearing our outside clothes to bed worked just fine.”

“Did you ever feel rested doing that?” I asked.

He sighed dramatically. I laughed.

“Exactly my point,” I said. “Most of your well-being has to do with mindset, Dean.”

He grumbled to himself as he settled into bed, and I took that as my chance to get in the bathroom. My shower was quick, especially since Dean used up most of the hot water. I knew I should’ve gone first, but it forced me not to stay in forever. I pulled on his shirt and my shorts, trying not to let myself smile when I saw myself in the mirror wearing his clothes. I walked back into the room before I allowed myself to think too hard.

He looked at me as I walked out, a smile creeping on his face. I fought back my own to raise a brow as I lingered at the foot of my bed.

“What?”

He shrugged. “Funny seeing you in my shirt.”

“Looks better on me than it ever did on you,” I sassed with a smirk, crawling into bed.

“Can’t argue with that,” he noted, still watching me. He cleared his throat a moment later, looking at the TV screen. “Uh, I found something, I think. They had Step Brothers on demand.”

“Oh, perfect,” I said as he clicked play.

We settled into a comfortable silence for a while, and I cuddled into the duvet. After we were halfway through the movie, I gathered the blankets around me even more.

“Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?” I asked, looking over to see Dean still sitting above the covers.

“It’s a little cold,” he shrugged, then looked at me. “I can check the heater.”

I nodded as he got up and crossed the room. He held a hand out, a puzzled look on his face after a moment. He smacked it with his hand, and still felt nothing.

“Hm. Hang on,” he said, moving to the phone. “Hi, I think the heater in here’s broken.”

A pause.

“Ah, great. Okay, thanks.”

He hung up the phone, looking to me apologetically.

“They said the heating’s down in the whole place.”

I sighed. “That sucks.”

He sat back in his bed, looking at me for a moment before he spoke again.

“I know it’s been a while since we had to, but do you wanna come sleep in my bed tonight? I run hot, it might keep you warm.”

“I know. I had to sleep next to you in the summer, and it was like roasting in an oven,” I chuckled.

“See? It’ll work perfect when you’re cold,” he said, standing again.

He pulled the covers back, getting underneath and patting the mattress next to him. I cursed myself for finding this case in the first place.

“Just don’t complain if I kick you in my sleep,” I said, getting out of my bed.

He chuckled. “I’m not worried about it.”

I got into his bed, and he threw the covers over me. He then reached over top of me to grab the remote, pressing play and slinging an arm around my shoulders. I pulled the duvet up to my chin, leaning into his side.

This position put me in a delicate spot, and I found that to be true more and more with every passing minute. Every time he laughed, I felt it reverberate in his chest. Every time he talked to me, I’d look up to see his face inches from mine. Every time he moved, he held me a little tighter.

In short, Bobby was all too correct about me being screwed.

“Hey,” Dean said, voice soft. “You okay?”

“Mm?”

I looked at him, once again trying not to think about the proximity.

“You always laugh at this scene. You didn’t make a sound this time.”

“Oh,” I chuckled, looking towards the screen. “Sorry, I must be exhausted.”

“Is that all? Seems like there’s something on your mind.”

“Alright, Dr. Phil,” I joked.

“Seriously,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I think I just need some sleep,” I replied, glancing at him again with half a smile.

He quirked a brow, clearly not believing me, but willing to drop the subject.

“Okay. You know you can always talk to me?”

“I know.”

He smiled softly, then looked back at the TV as he shut it off. He settled into bed, still holding onto me. I snuggled into his side, using his chest as a pillow. I felt him breathe deep before he shut off the light.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night, Dean.”

I woke up the next morning before he did, and decided there was little harm in remaining there. I shut my eyes, letting myself enjoy the fact that I was still snuggled against him. It gave me a moment to pretend he was mine, at least for the morning. I listened to his breathing, and wondered if he ever dreamt about me in the same way I did about him. As if on cue, his arm tightened around me a little as he stirred. His thumb brushed against my shoulder where his hand had snuck under the sleeve of the t-shirt, though I couldn’t tell if he was really awake until I felt a soft kiss against the top of my head.

At that moment, I decided it was probably best to continue pretending I was still asleep.

He stayed that way for a little while, his hand still against my shoulder, making little patterns with his thumb. It took everything in me not to move when I felt him brush a few stray pieces of hair away from my face, and even more when he let his hand linger against my cheek for when felt like a few seconds too long to be purely friendly.

I wondered if he was always like this when I wasn’t awake. Extra attentive, and sure not to wake me. Maybe that’s why I somehow remained asleep every time I fell asleep in the car that normally jostled me around like a rag doll with his driving. I wondered even more if Bobby was right about something else he’d said days ago: the unrequited feelings might not be so unrequited after all.

I nestled my head against his chest, trying to give him a warning that I was about to open my eyes, and he quickly pulled his hand away from my face. I took in a breath, blinking slowly as I let the light seep in for the second time that morning.

“Morning,” he greeted quietly, his voice still soft and raspy from tiredness.

I smiled. “Morning.”

“You hungry?” he asked, drawing my attention to him.

I nodded, leaning back a little to see him better.

“Very, and I saw a café on the way into town that looked good,” I said.

He smiled softly, shutting his eyes for a moment. Then, he yawned, finally sitting up. He turned and looked at me as I stayed laying.

“How’d you sleep? Warm enough?”

“Thanks to you, yeah,” I replied, stretching. “I’m scared to get out of bed, now, though.”

He patted my leg over the covers, “If you want food, that should be motivation enough.”

“Good point.”

I reluctantly climbed out of bed as he walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day. It was cold, but not unbearable. I decided to throw on some clothes in the room since he always took a while in the bathroom. By the time he was finished, all I needed to do was wash my face and brush my teeth, then we were off.

Breakfast was short and sweet, and we made it back to Bobby’s in record time. We strolled in the door, seeing Sam gimping around the kitchen as soon as we walked in.

“Still letting that ankle beat your ass?” I asked immediately.

He laughed. “Trust me, if I had any control over it, this wouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”

“Maybe you just wanted out of the hunt,” I said in reply.

“Oh yeah, I loved hanging out and making Bobby bring me ice packs all day. Dream vacation, actually.”

Dean shook his head with a smirk. “You didn’t miss out on much anyway.”

“How’d it go?” Sam asked as he took a seat.

I looked to Dean who was already glancing in my direction. I shrugged.

“We stopped a serial killer, actually,” I noted.

Sam gaped. “And I ‘didn’t miss much’?”

“Just knocked him out and called the cops. Not much fun, anyways,” Dean shrugged. “Oh, we did find maybe the best pancakes I’ve ever had, though.”

I hummed in agreement enthusiastically, nodding.

“They were freaking incredible,” I said, then looked back at Sam. “And they had like, real, fresh maple syrup.”

“Unlimited stacks when you bought the platter, too,” Dean chimed in with a gleeful smile.

“You two sound like an old married couple,” Sam scoffed out with a laugh. “What, did you fall asleep together after reading the newspaper, too?”

“After watching a movie, actually,” Dean corrected, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Then, he looked at me. “Did you want anything?”

“I’m okay.”

Sam looked between us, a raised brow and an amused look on his face.

“You two actually fell asleep together?”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s what you choose to focus on?”

He smiled mischievously, then looked at Dean.

“Making moves on her, now?”

Dean swallowed, glaring at his brother with wide eyes. I furrowed my brow, about to see if I could prod Sam for information, but Bobby walked in before I had the chance.

“Hey, you two. How was the hunt?”

Dean let out a breath. “Not real eventful. I could use some sleep.”

He started walking out of the room, all of us watching as he left. Bobby turned to me first, a questioning look on his face.

“Don’t look at me,” I said with my hands up in defense. “I think Sammy pissed him off.”

“Real smooth, Sam,” Bobby commented.

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. Bobby merely sighed, going to take a seat across from Sam. I looked at them both, hands on my hips.

“Why do I get the feeling you two know something I don’t?”

“Did Dean not talk to you?” Sam asked, looking at me.

“We talk plenty.”

“That’s not what I mean. He said he was gonna talk to you when the next case was over,” he stopped, then looked at Bobby. “Case came and went, and still nothing.”

Bobby shrugged. “Out of our hands, Sam. Told you not to meddle.”

I sighed in annoyance. “You two are children, you know that?”

“Hey,” Bobby said, offended.

“I’m gonna take a walk,” I said finally, turning for the door.

The second I was halfway out, they started talking again, but I couldn’t bring myself to care too much about what they said. Clearing my mind sounded like the best option, and I was determined to do it.

I started walking around the yard, music blaring from my phone to keep me preoccupied as I watched the sky light up with a million different colors. I found an old car with a relatively clean exterior and decided to climb onto the hood. I leaned back, watching the sky as it turned darker, the stars slowly peaking out.

“Room for one more?” Dean’s voice asked from behind me.

“Come on up,” I said, scooting over a bit.

He came and sat next to me, looking up at the sky. He let out a slow breath, then looked at me.

“Taylor Swift?”

“You know it,” I replied.

He smiled, turning his head back.

“Stars are coming out,” he commented.

“They are. You should’ve seen sunset, it was gorgeous.”

He scooted closer, leaning his head against mine silently. After a moment, I let myself lean against his shoulder a little more.

“You okay, Dean?” I asked after a beat.

“Of course. Why?”

“I dunno. You just seemed a little off when we got back today.”

He sighed. “Yeah. It’s— It’s nothing.”

“You sound like me, now.”

He chuckled. “Guess we’ve got the same bad habit, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so.”

We stayed there until it got dark enough to really see the stars come out, not moving even when the chill of the night started creeping in. I readjusted my head against his shoulder, preparing myself to speak again.

“Did you really follow me out here just to look at stars?”

I felt him still. Then, after a moment, I sat up a little straighter and looked at him. He glanced back at me, clearly feeling caught out.

“Thought you could use some company.”

I raised a brow, and he smirked, looking away.

“Alright, you got me,” he said, “What gave it away?”

“First off, I’ve known you for years,” I started, nudging him in the arm. “Second, Sam and Bobby were all uppity about the fact that you apparently told Sam you had something to talk to me about.”

“I swear, he can’t keep a secret to save his life when it comes to stuff like this,” he said, rubbing at his face.

“Well, try me,” I said, unable to keep my eyes off of him. He was extra cute all flustered. “I’m a good listener.”

He let out a breath, then looked at me, scanning my face for a moment.

“I know I’ve got a certain type of reputation—”

“You?! No way,” I exclaimed with a smile, my eyes wide.

He laughed. “Exactly my point.”

“You know I don’t care about that, though. Reputations are a one-sided story.”

He hummed. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

He sighed, looking back at the sky for a moment.

“I just,” he started, giving a shrug, “I feel like it— Like it makes people feel like I never want anything but a hookup, you know?”

“It makes people feel that way?”

“I’m that easy to read, huh?” he asked, looking at me again with a faint smile. “You. I mean you.”

“I gathered that much.”

He laughed softly, as did I.

“How’d you know?”

“I had suspicions fueled by Bobby. Then you kissed me and started being all affectionate when you thought I was asleep this morning.”

His eyes widened. “You were pretending to be asleep? That’s so not fair!”

“Hey, I woke up snuggled into my own personal space heater, I didn’t exactly want to be up and at ‘em.”

He rolled his eyes, tugging me into his side with an arm around my shoulders once more.

“How long has it been for you?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t even know. I guess I started realizing it a year or so ago.”

“That’s embarrassing for me, then. I knew the second I met you,” he said with a laugh.

“Dean,” I said with surprise. “It’s been half a decade! No wonder Bobby got on my ass about it before we left.”

“Well, hey, Sammy’s been on mine for a couple years. You got off easy up till now.”

I laughed. “I guess so. To be fair, we were flying under the radar for quite a while, though. The incessant flirting the past few weeks is what got us in trouble.”

“Why did you start being extra flirty, anyway?” he asked, resting his cheek against the top of my head.

“I don’t know. I guess I was, like, subconsciously seeing a window. You haven’t been doing your normal bar hookups the past few months, so I thought maybe there was a reason for it,” I paused. “Though, finding out you’ve been crushing on me for five years kind of makes me question that.”

He snorted out a laugh. “Easier to keep my mind off you that way. That sounds terrible. I just— I never thought in a million years you’d think anything of me.”

“Well, when did you realize I might?”

He sighed. “You remember a couple weeks back when we were taking down that vamp nest? You easily could’ve died, and we hugged afterwards, but when I pulled back I… I saw that look in your eyes that seemed an awful lot like how I look at you when you’re not paying attention. I wanted to kiss you, and I didn’t doubt in that moment that you would’ve let me if I had.”

I paused. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared. We’ve been friends for so long, and we practically do everything together. I didn’t want to ruin anything on the off chance that I was reading those signs all wrong.”

“You weren’t.”

He fell quiet for a moment. I looked up at him, and he looked back at me as I did. He quickly wet his lips, drawing my gaze downward before my eyes flicked back up to his. His lips parted momentarily. Then…

“We should get back inside. It’s getting cold out here,” he said quickly.

I nodded curtly, pulling away to let him get off the hood first. He gave me a hand, helping me down next. We walked back to the house quietly, saying soft goodnights before we went to separate rooms.

I was all settled in for the night, cozy in my bed with a book in hand. Then, I heard a knock on the door. I grumbled as I got up, annoyed that I had to leave the comfort of a mattress that wasn’t a sure cesspool of germs I didn’t want to think about. I flung the door open.

“Someone better be dying or I’m gonna kick some ass for—”

Dean’s lips crashed into mine, effectively silencing me from my rant. I melted after a few seconds of mental delay, my hands gripping onto the material of his shirt as his cradled my face. I felt him smile into the kiss, drawing my closer with arms that snuck around my waist, holding me tight. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss once he was sure that the signs were all giving him a positive response.

We finally broke apart a few minutes later, breathing heavy with pounding hearts.

“I figured I should stop letting opportunities pass me up,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, good thinking.”

His eyes scanned over me, his chest still heaving.

“You wouldn’t happen to need another space heater for the night, would you?”

“I run cold, what can I say?” I replied with a smirk, and a spark in my eye.

He smiled, walking me into the room with his lips on mine, kicking the door shut behind him.

(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)

FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

#i haven’t written a spn fic in years this felt good #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #delicate #reputation #taylor swift #gender neutral reader #luna’s dean fics

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graysturns · 6 months ago

Text

𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕕? | 𝕔.𝕤.

1.5k+ words

note: hey guys :) this should be short and sweet but i hope you like it anyways. i love soft chris! also last pic is me on my period and that’s why i wrote this + i hate rachel

warnings: none i think just me hating my coworker

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

long as you dreaming bout me ain’t no problem,

i don’t got nobody, just with you right now,

11:47 pm

my phone buzzes twice, causing it to brightly light up in its spot right by my face.

“ughh, leave me alone!” i groan, tossing it to chris’ side of the bed.

“what is it baby?” chris walks into our room, shutting the door quietly and placing a water bottle on my nightstand. he sits beside me and rubs my back slowly.

“rachel from work wants me to cover her shift tomorrow. something about ACT testing.”

he raises an eyebrow at me. “isn’t that something you would request the day off for? y’know like, in advance?”

“that’s what i said.” i roll my eyes before proceeding.

“i already told her no, but she keeps insisting because i’m the only person off tomorrow.”

chris leans over to grab my phone, unlocking it and putting it on do not disturb.

“it’s about time you have a day off. they’ve been putting you on the schedule every day now.” he sighs, combing his fingers through my hair.

“i know. and today was shit.” i huff out.

“do you wanna talk about it?” chris watches me intently.

“i just don’t wanna complain too much.”

“baby, i looove hearing you complain. it’s like, my favorite part of every day.” he taunts.

“only if you insist,” i sit up and smile cheekily at him.

he repositions himself so he sits across from me, pulling his knees up under his chin.

“talk to me sweetheart,” he grabs my hand, kissing my knuckles.

“so i clock in, and right away i’m being told to get on the espresso machine. my manager was supposed to work alongside me but she kept getting pulled away for manager things so i was doing both positions at our station, which is fine, but during a rush it can be a lot.” i start to ramble.

“and the second she gets back, i get the feeling that i started my period! and i completely forgot about it because i’ve been so busy, so i didn’t have any tampons on me,” i continue.

chris drops my hand and reaches into his hoodie pocket, revealing a bottle of pamprin.

“i actually got the notification earlier from your period app, so i brought these upstairs.” he smiles to himself, opening the bottle and shaking a couple tablets out on my palm.

“chris, thank you!” i exclaim, popping them in my mouth and taking a sip of the water.

“of course babe, i got you.” he pokes my stomach.

“so what else happened?” he asks me.

“well after that it slowed down a little. but the whole coffee shop was a mess after the rush and since we were closing, we had to deep clean everything. i’m just so sore and i want to die,”

“i get it, babe. did you shower yet?”

“the second i got home. fucking rachel spilled a pitcher of cold brew on my thigh and i was so sticky.”

he nods with a slight smile, moving his body up against the headboard.

he laid back in his spot and motioned me over to lay on his chest.

“fucking rachel.” he tsks while rubbing my back.

“why do you hate her so much anyways?” he drops his head to look at me.

“well, do you remember that one day you came through the drive through right before my shift ended? you were picking me up and decided to get a drink.”

he thinks for a moment, “mhm?”

“well she was working the window, and she came to tell us all there was a hot guy outside. basically telling the girls to come look,”

“yeah i remember a few girls came by, pretending to stock cups or something. that’s rachel?”

my lips drew a tight line.

“remember how she had you pull into a parking spot, saying they’d bring the drink out to you?”

��mhm?” he asks again.

“well, she decided to write her number down on a slip of paper and hoped to give it to you on her way out, along with your coffee. i left before her, so while i was getting settled in the car, she was walking up to you trying to rizz you up.”

his mouth forms an ‘o’.

“what a sneaky bitch!” he chuckles.

i roll my eyes at him.

“chris it’s not funny. my coworker wants to fuck you.”

“well it’s never gonna happen, sweetheart. she’s insane if she thinks that.”

i mess with the drawstring on his hoodie, picking at the plastic end.

“it’s just frustrating. she’s been doing little things to mess with me, since the moment she saw us together in your car. like today with the cold brew, that was fully on purpose.”

he sighs, patting the back of my head. “why don’t you just quit? you don’t need to work.”

“chris, you can’t pay for everything,” i sigh, dropping the thin rope.

“i actually can. besides, i’d much rather have you here at home, happy and free to do what you want with all that extra time.”

i smile up at him, lightly running my nails across his stubble.

“you’re too sweet to me, but i can’t let you financially support me chris. we aren’t even married.”

this time, he rolls his eyes at me.

“so what? we already live together. you’re my shawty or whatever the kids say,” he laughs, picking up a strand of my hair, tickling my nose with the end.

“the kids in 2009, and don’t say that ever again, chris.” i snort.

“no but seriously. i know how much you hate this job. and fucking rachel.” he smirks.

“i’ll apply to a few different places in the morning. and we’ll go from there.”

“no, y/n.” he grabs my hand, holding it between us.

“it’s making you miserable, you can quit now and i’ll hold things down until you find something else.”

“chris, i already told you, it’s not fair to you. you’re not my husband, and you don’t need to provide for me.”

he looks to the ceiling for a moment, pondering.

chris faces me again, grabbing hold of my cheeks. “wanna get married?”

“married? chris i-i’d marry you in an instant but not for this reason. you can’t be-“

he pulls away from me and leans over his side of the bed, digging through his nightstand.

turning to face me, he opens his fist to reveal a ring.

what the hell? i sit up quickly.

“y/n.” he holds the ring up.

“i’ve been wanting to do this for a while. i know my timing may not be ideal, but i hate the fact that i’m not your husband, and i hate the fact that you won’t let me take care of you. married or not, i’m always going to be here to take care of you, to help you, to love on you, especially when you’re having a day like today.” chris takes my hands in his, holding the ring on his fingertip.

“..but i’d really rather be married to you and do all those things.”

“chris, you don’t mean..” i begin.

“don’t act all surprised now.” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“you know i love you, we’ve talked about getting married someday. i think we should just do it sooner than later.”

“chris, i don’t know what to say. i want to marry you, i just don’t think it should be because i hate my job.”

“it’s not because of that. i’ve been planning this, if i wasn’t then there wouldn’t be a ring here. what do you think?”

“holy fuck, chris.” i take his hand and open it, placing my left one in his palm.

“let’s get married.” i smile up at him.

he slides the ring on and tackles me into a hug, causing us both to fall backwards on the bed.

“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you!” he chants while peppering kisses all over my face.

short, sweet kisses turn into a long, heated make out that gets interrupted by three dings from my phone.

“did you not see me turn your phone on do not disturb?” chris huffs out.

“i swear to god if it’s rachel..” i pause, leaning over to pick up my phone.

“she did that ‘notify anyway’ thing. she’s insisting i cover for her tomorrow.”

my phone starts to buzz in my hand, causing chris’s head to snap in its direction.

“absolutely not!” he grabs the phone and clicks it off, throwing it on the other side of the bed.

“fucking rachel. someone needs to punch her in her throat.” he says jokingly.

“h-hello?” a small voice escapes my phone.

“shit, chris i thought you declined the call!” i lunge for the device, end the call and turn the phone off.

“do you think she heard me?” he asks, wide eyed, with a smile tugging on the corners of his lips.

“i don’t care, i’m quitting that job anyways. i have a husband now.’ i beam at him, waving my hand in his face.

“hell yeah you do!” he places his hands on my waist and brings me back down to him.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

hope u liked it 🤍 also this is dedicated to rachel i hate u please quit so i don’t have to! just kidding that’s mean! (i’m not)

comment if u hate rachel too

tags!

@imwetforyourmom @anonymouslyachrisgirl @junnniiieee07 @imtalkinnonsense @wh0resstuff

if you wanna be added comment here!

#Spotify #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo fanfic #fanfic #soft chris

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b14augrana · 3 months ago

Text

Scrubber: Off-season

You go on vacation with all your teammates and the location is somewhere familiar to them

Barça Femení x teen!reader

Part of the Scrubber universe

pt. 2 masterlist

Warnings: none! just a long, cute fic 👼

A/N: scrubber content is back 💝 just a little filler / mini scrubber series while the next part to the actual series gets written slowly but surely. i’ll most likely write a part 2 if people want x

fridolinarolfo

→ Does anyone have vacation plans??!

ingrid_engen

→ no not yet 🫤

fridolinarolfo

→ Hellooooo where is everyone else

ingrid_engen

→ get active plz @/aitanabonmati @claudiaapina @/yourname @/alexiaputellas

Replied to fridolinarolfo

Does anyone have vacation plans??!

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ anyways why did you ask about plans for the holiday? do you have any?

yourname

→ i dont have plans frido. omg do you wanna hang out??? 😋

patri8guijarro

→ I’m not doing anything

fridolinarolfo

Replied to yourname

i dont have plans frido. omg do you wanna h…

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ I have an idea 🙂‍↕️ How about we all go on vacation together? We can all decide on a place

❤️ 8

ona.batlle

→ That sounds fun 😍 Nobody be boring and say no!!!!

yourname

→ ona’s right it does sound fun i wanna do it plz 🐒

alexiaputellas

→ Where will we go

ingrid_engen

→ hmm any ideas guys? 🥴

claudiaapina

→ Ibiza so we can party 🔥🔥

alexiaputellas

→ No not with bebita around

👎 1

yourname

→ guys my friend said we should go to new zealand. i think she is biased bc she is from there but it looks like a nice place 😄

fridolinarolfo

→ I really liked New Zealand actually

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ I wish we stayed longer 🫠

ingrid_engen

Replied to fridolinarolfo

I really liked New Zealand actually

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ same!! it was such a nice place and the people were really sweet

❤️ 6

patri8guijarro

→ We should go to New Zealand on vacation 🤩

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ Me María and Clau didn’t go with you guys for the world cup so its our first time

yourname

Replied to patri8guijarro

Me María and Clau didn’t go with you guys f…

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ i haven’t gone there either PLZZZZZ can we go guys pleaseeeeee 🙏🙏🤞

alexiaputellas

→ I liked it there so if everyone else wants to then yes I think we should go 🙌🏼

❤️ 9 🔥 4 🎉 2

patri8guijarro

→ Barça on tour already??? 🤣

❤️ 7 😂 5

“I’m so excited for our break!” you exclaimed, skipping over to Alexia. The team was warming down in the gym after a training session, and you had all spent the entire day talking about your plans to go on vacation in New Zealand.

“I’m excited too. It’ll be nice to actually enjoy New Zealand, because we didn’t get much time during the World Cup,” Alexia said, walking at a steady pace on the treadmill. You leaned on the handle, nodding at her words, “I can’t wait. It looks so awesome, and my friend said it is awesome.”

“Who’s your friend?” the woman asked, looking at you with a small smile as you responded. “I met her in the park a few weeks ago — her name’s Ludo. She told me that she was born in Italy but lives in New Zealand, and apparently she’s studying here, in Barcelona. How cool is that?”

Alexia raised her eyebrows, a surprised expression on her face, “Really cool, and she’s right, New Zealand is awesome. I liked Auckland a lot. There’s a tall skyscraper in the city that lights up at night. Se ve precioso.”

“Hey, maybe next time we can go to Australia for vacation. Laia must have some friends at Arsenal that can give us some advice on where to go,” she added. Australia was another place you thought was beautiful. The beaches looked so… beach-y. They looked like the type of beaches you imagine when you hear the word ‘beach’, but Barcelona beaches weren’t too far off either in your humble beach-lover opinion.

"Are you two talking about the holidays?" It was Ingrid asking now, and she emerged from the other side of Alexia. You nodded, a smile on your face. "Yeah. I can't wait, it's literally all I've been thinking about, I'm so excited! I want to go to the beach and the city– Patri! Clau!" you yelled, beckoning to the women across the room, "We should go bungee jumping!"

Patri's face lit up. "I'll do anything that gives Ale a heart attack," she jeered, nudging Alexia gently as she stepped off the treadmill and wiped her forehead with a towel. "Cállate, tonto," Alexia laughed.

“I’m excited to try their coffee. I hope they’ve got a good coffee culture,” Ingrid said, earning a hum of agreement from Fridolina, another café enthusiast.

There were so many things to do, you couldn't keep up. When you and Irene got home, you immediately dashed to your room and flopped onto your bed with your notebook and laptop open, searching up and scribbling down a list of activities for you guys to do during your time in New Zealand. It ranged from bowling at an arcade to dining in a restaurant situated at the top of a skyscraper, so the options were endless.

Honestly, you were just happy to be going on holiday with your teammates. The destination didn’t matter.

Mateo stumbled into your room with his stuffed moose, Bombón, and climbed onto your bed, sitting politely beside you with his moose in his lap.

“Teo, me and Mami are going on holiday, so you and Bombón will be with Madre for a little bit,” you explained, earning a little nod from Mateo who pointed at your laptop screen.

“Es aquí donde vas?” he questioned, motioning to the photos on the website you had open. “Sí. Bonita, verdad?” Mateo smiled and replied with a little ‘Sí.’

“Nenita,” Irene yelled from the living room. You peered out of your bedroom as she spoke, “Can you text Fridolina and ask her how we’re booking the flight tickets?”

You nodded and retreated into your bedroom again, picking up your phone and opening iMessage.

yourname

→ @/fridolinarolfo how are we booking the tickets frido??

fridolinarolfo

→ 😅😅

patri8guijarro

→ Let’s take the Barça plane 🤣🤣

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ It’s there for a reason lol

claudiaapina

→ Barça plane or I’m not going 💯

fridolinarolfo

→ 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ I’ll ask Jona then

“Irene, Frido’s gonna ask Jona if we can take the big plane!” you said. She didn’t respond for a minute, but then she appeared at your bedroom door. “The Barça plane? The one with our faces on the side?”

You nodded once more, and Irene let out a laugh as she shook her head. “Claudia’s idea, or Patri’s?” she asked. “Patri’s, but Claudia did say that she’s not going if we don’t take that plane,” you giggled, showing her the texts on your phone. Two tiny hands grabbed ahold of you as Mateo braced on your arm and took a peek at your phone screen.

The next day, Alexia picked you up to take you to training while Irene dropped Mateo off at preschool. It was one of the last training days before the season ended, so there were some bittersweet feelings surrounding the next few days.

"I love being at work and I'm a bit sad because this season has been so good, a holiday only means it's finished,” Aitana said while you two sat down and used the foam rollers beneath your legs, “But pequeñita, the last time I went to New Zealand, all I wanted to do was win the World Cup, so I didn't do anything around the city because we weren't there for a holiday. Now that we have won it, I want to do as much as we can!”

Fridolina burst through the doors of the gym with a big smile on her face, her gym bag slung over her shoulder. “I just asked Jona about taking the Barça plane and…”

Everyone looked at her eagerly, waiting for the verdict.

“It’s a yes... but we have to pay for our own tickets since it isn’t for work.”

Claudia was the first to jump up and celebrate, followed by Patri and then everyone else. The tickets part didn’t matter, because you all got to sit together anyways.

“We’re going to New Zealand!”

After your training session, you all sat in a circle to do some stretches. The stretches part happened for maybe a minute, before you pulled a folded piece of paper out of your pocket and laid it out flat on the grass in front of you all. "I wrote down a bunch of things we can do in New Zealand. There's something for everyone, so don't worry about missing out on any cafés, Ingrid," you jeered.

Patri grabbed the paper and scanned it, a smile quickly appearing on her face. She passed it down to Claudia, and the paper made its way around the circle before ending up in the middle again.

"I want to have dinner at the skyscraper restaurant," Alexia said, her eyes lighting up as she spoke about it. A few people hummed in agreement, including you.

Claudia scoffed and shook her head, "The first thing we're doing is going to the theme park. Look forward to dinner at dinnertime!"

"You look forward to dinner at breakfast time."

"Okay, shut up Mapi."

"What about the trampoline park? You guys are totally ignoring the trampoline park!" Patri exclaimed, flailing her hands in the air. Alexia laughed and leaned back on her arms, "Yeah, because a group of grown women are allowed to be in a trampoline park with little kids. We'll crush them!"

"Not if we rent the whole place out," Patri winked, making Alexia raise her eyebrow. "Imagine that! A trampoline park, all to ourselves."

Alexia shook her head, laughing once more, "That wouldn't be too bad. At least you three could be clowns and not hurt anyone's kid," she remarked, motioning to you, Patri, and Pina, all of which made faces at her.

"It would be way cooler to hire the theme park for the night. No lines, unlimited turns, and we wouldn't need to wait forever for food," Claudia responded.

"We should go to the beach!" Ingrid chimed, pointing at the sheet of paper. That was something everyone could agree on; a nice day at the beach, soaking up the sun. There was nothing quite like the Barcelona sun, but you could at least see if the New Zealand sun came close to comparing.

“(Y/N), come on!” Alexia yelled from the living room, rolling her suitcase along the floor. You groaned, currently in the middle of trying to zip your own luggage up. “I’m almost done!”

You sat on top of your suitcase, desperately trying to push it down, and eventually, you finally managed. With a sigh of relief, you quickly zipped it up with one hand while the other kept pushing it. Alexia appeared at your door, sticking her head through the gap, “Have you got it, Chiquita?” You nodded, heaving the suitcase off your bed and onto the floor with a thud as you smiled proudly. “All done!”

"I logged into Hay Day for you, because I knew you'd be busy and forget," Alexia added, a smile of her own now gracing her features as yours simply widened. "Graciés, Ale!" you exclaimed, wheeling your suitcase forward. You stopped at the door as Alexia pulled you into a hug and placed a quick kiss to your forehead.

"Are we forgetting anything?" she asked, walking with you to the living room, and you thought about it for a moment before shaking your head with an unsure expression, "I don't think so..."

“Wait!”

You ran back into your room quickly, skidding around the corner. Alexia could hear you rummaging around for something and mumbling, ‘Where is it’ and, ‘Mierda’ before you emerged from the room empty handed. She looked down at your feet and laughed when she saw the navy blue house slippers on your feet, paired with the Barça socks you were already wearing.

“Don’t laugh, you don’t understand how nice they are,” you grumbled, brushing her off as she laughed even harder.

The pair of you walked out of Alexia’s apartment with your suitcases in hand, and you took the elevator down to the car park. There was a brief silence in the elevator for a moment, but the urge got the best of you and you began making faces at Alexia in the mirror.

You returned to a normal expression when she suddenly looked at you with her eyebrow raised, and you glanced back at her like she was crazy for being suspicious of you. Once she turned back around, you continued making stupid faces in the mirror while she wasn't looking.

The antics didn't stop when she eventually caught you; instead, Alexia joined in, poking her tongue out at you in the mirror until you both were going back and forth making silly faces at each other for the rest of the elevator ride. Soon, the empty car park was filled with the sound of laughter as the pair of you exited the elevator, stumbling over your own two feet from laughing too hard while you walked to her car.

She unlocked the car and you both hauled your suitcases into the trunk with a grunt. "Dios mío, it wasn't this heavy before..." Alexia mumbled, pulling the trunk lid down before strolling to the driver's side.

You nodded in agreement, letting out a slightly exasperated sigh as you sunk into the passenger seat.

"I can't wait until I can drive," you remarked, buckling your seatbelt. "When that happens, you owe me about... 1,000 car rides," Alexia teased, buckling her own seatbelt as she glanced at you with a small smile. You rolled your eyes, seemingly annoyed at her words, but the smile on your own face told other tales.

You wound down the window a bit, filling the car with fresh air as you emerged out of the car park and traversed the streets of Barcelona. "Are we picking anyone else up?" you inquired, and she shook her head.

"We were going to pick up Irene, but Lucia said she'd drop her off at the airport," Alexia responded, and you acknowledged her words with a little 'oh'.

"Want anything to eat, Chiquita?" Alexia asked, glancing at you for a sliver of a second. You contemplated her question carefully, hesitating every time you thought you had an answer, until eventually you came up with a nod of your head. "I'm craving an almond croissant, you know the ones?"

The blonde nodded her head, knowing exactly what you meant. It only took a few turns before Alexia pulled over in front of your favourite pastry bakery. "Vale, I'll be 2 minutes," she notified, opening her car door and shutting it behind her as she headed for the entrance of the bakery.

Shortly after, she returned with a brown paper bag in hand and a smile on her face. Opening the car door once again and sitting down in her seat, she handed you the bag. Immediately, the sweet aroma of a fresh-out-the-oven, icing sugar-dusted, almond-garnished croissant graced your nostrils. "Graciés, hermana," you thanked her, a smile akin to hers on your face.

"Want a bite?" you asked, offering the warm pastry to her as she merged back onto the main road. She took a little nibble, mumbling a thanks in between her bite. As soon as she straightened herself up, you brought your croissant back to your mouth and took a massive bite, savouring every moment spent with icing sugar on your face. ‘It adds to the experience,’ you thought.

The last bites were consumed at an agonisingly slow pace. You wanted to savour the almond-y goodness, but you also wanted to wolf it down and quit stalling — you were conflicted. Would New Zealand have such nice almond croissants? Probably not, but you’d never know unless you tried!

The prospect of more almond croissants in New Zealand got you through the last few bites without having to mourn the pastry, and before you knew it, the airport was coming into sight.

Travelling wasn’t a new concept for you; in fact, you had lived abroad in France before. You couldn’t say why, but you did for two years (give or take a few months), and some would call it a miracle that Lyon didn’t pick you up before Barcelona did.

You hated living in France anyways. It was pastry heaven, of course, but it was not Vidić lover heaven. They were all about Zidane and Henry, not a single word about Vidić. It was understandable, but still, not cool.

Also, the amount of pigeons freaked you out.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you pulled it out, already knowing who it was. Alexia’s buzzed too, but as she rummaged around for it, you had already opened the message, so she just looked at your screen.

claudiaapina

→ Where are you all

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ Deja de ser perezosa hermanas 🙄

patri8guijarro

→ Don’t listen to her we just got here because someone @/claudiaapina wanted to stop and pet someone’s dog 🖕🏻🖕🏻

claudiaapina

Replied to patri8guijarro

Don’t listen to her we just got here because s…

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ Cállate cerdita

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 💩 1

fridolinarolfo

→ I’m here with Aitana we’re just getting a bite

yourname

→ me and ale just got here 😆

lucybronze

→ I’m with Ona in the lounge 🥴

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ I saw Marta dragging Caro to the duty free though 🤣🤣

graham95

→ Be quiet Lucy I saw you kicking a vending machine earlier 😒

ingrid_engen

→ im here with maría now

yourname

→ i see irene 🥳🥳🥳🥳

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↳ bye guys me and ale will see you inside 🥸

You switched your phone off, shoving it back into your pocket as Alexia spoke with a smile. “This is going to be a fun trip.”

You nodded, your face contorting into a smile of your own as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “Let’s grab our stuff and go to Irene,” you said eagerly, jumping out of the car and rushing to the trunk, pushing up the lid so you could lift your suitcase out slowly.

You wheeled it around the side of Alexia’s car before abandoning it and breaking into a sprint towards Irene, but you were actually heading for Mateo who was toddling along behind her. You swooped him into your arms, and Irene bore an affectionate smile as she watched you carry him.

“Pequeño, I’m gonna miss you!” you said, placing the toddler back down. He latched onto your leg, hugging it tightly, and you ruffled his hair. “I’ll bring you back a friend for Bombón, I promise,” you added, giving Mateo one last hug before picking him up once more and handing him to Lucia. Irene gave the two one last hug goodbye, and then put an arm around your shoulder while her other one held the handle of her suitcase.

Alexia wheeled your luggage back over to you, and held her own in her other hand. “Ready to go?” she asked you and Irene, who both nodded.

“Let’s go!”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

#b14augrana's asks #scrubber #woso #woso community #woso imagines #woso x reader #woso fanfics #fc barcelona femeni #fc barcelona #fcb femení #fcb femení x reader #fcbfemeni #fcb femeni #fc barcelona x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #irene paredes x reader

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intotheelliwoods · 1 month ago

Note

2AL mini AU... the Leoverse.. Leo Generations...

What would their personalities be if they hypothetically did exist?

I actually had storylines in mind for a long while for both Big Leos bigger leo and Poptarts hypothetical little leo! :)

I decided that if Poptarts timeline DID go to shit... the reason would be due to Triceritons! (remember their damn skull in the krang ship? lmao what if they were still alive)

Anyways, the catch here and what makes this dynamic different is that, Poptart would not tell his little leo at all about Sprout. Not even a peep.

Poptart would also be all over this poor little leo constantly to the point of the little leo getting super annoyed. Poptart on the other hand is constantly cheery and upbeat and a giant nuisance! It is not until Poptart finally has some big mental breakdown, and tells his little leo about Sprout and the whole cycle, that the walls break and they can finally bond closely as a duo

Poptart would also, dub his little leo, Pudding. Banana Pudding. Why not.

Anyways Big Leos bigger leo is a bit of a darker story so, I am putting it under a cut, huge warning for character death:

Short version: Big Leo gets a grand total of 3 minutes with his bigger self, before said bigger self dies in his arms

Long version: I have had this one off comic in my head for so long but dont really know how to draw it and I kept thinking it was too dark to draw anyways so... I never drew it But the premise is...

It begins around the start of the Krang apocalypse in Big Leos timeline, him (still has the arm, age 18-20ish) and his brothers are all in some meeting frustrated not knowing what to do, eventually Leo decides he needs a break to think and heads off into another room and sits against a wall

A portal blue opens besides him, and out comes out his bigger self! Leo is freaked as shit before he realizes, oh, this guy is hurt. Leo goes to help his bigger self who is on the floor trying to crawl and check the damage since the guy was losing a lot of blood and it looks like a lot had already been lost

I do not have the exact dialogue down but, it is something along the lines of Bigger Leo insisting "dont worry about me, I need to warn you something, its amazing I made it here at all and.... I am sorry it looks like I showed up too late and...." He then looks into Leos eyes and becomes less tense, he goes "hey..... teacup, its good to see you before melting in for a hug. Leo hugs back and sobs, while the bigger leo soon after starts going limp..

Eventually Leos brothers would find where he hid after he stormed off to see the aftermath to the scene, they would take bigger leo over to their med bay maybe but it would be too late, and trying to get Leo away from the body was a nightmare, Leo could not stop staring

Did I just come up with the Teacup nickname while writing this all down? Yes.. yes I did....

Do you see why this might be too dark for a comic lmao?

This would also explain why Big Leo made no mention of this whole situation to Sprout, I dont think Sprout would have even wanted to know

#asks #2 arms left #rottmnt #character death #cw death

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jo-speaks · 5 months ago

Text

boat ride

in which...

Quinn takes fem! reader out for a ride on the lake.

warning: smut below! MDNI!!

note: second imagine for my 'alphabet dates' series! This one really isn't a "date", but it's okay. also, this is my first time writing smut so I would really appreciate some feedback bc I have no idea if it's good or not (i'm laughing but i'm not) wc: 2083

“Hey. Are you awake?”

You blinked your eyes open, turning to face Quinn, “I am now.” He let out a breathy laugh, “Sorry.”

Making a noise, you rolled over completely to wrap one of your legs over his waist. Your hand gently found its way to the nape of his neck, messing with the messy curls. Instinctively, he brought up his own hand to slightly lift up the big hoodie you were wearing, which was actually his, to rub the thigh of the leg that you had placed over top of him.

“What time is it?” You mumbled.

Quinn reached behind his head to grab his phone that was next to the bed, “2:45.”

Suddenly the lack of light in the room made a lot of sense. You and Quinn had been out on the lake the whole day and the second you had taken a shower after coming back in the house, you passed out in your shared bed.

You tugged gently on Quinn’s curls, causing him to let out a groan. He leaned down to place a kiss on your lips.

It started off like every other kiss, slow, soft, and full of love. But, it slowly became more aggressive. You tried to pull away to take a breath, but Quinn didn’t let you. He trailed his hand up, going from your thigh to your ass.

He gave it a gentle squeeze, causing you to let out a soft moan into the kiss. You didn’t pull away from the kiss, that had now turned into something far from sweet, as you shifted over Quinn, your legs on either side of his waist.

You rolled your hips into Quinn, causing him to grip you tighter and buck his own hips up closer to you.

Before it could go any further, you pushed his lips away from you. He tried to pull you back in, but you kept him away.

“What are you doing? Are you okay?” He asked, sounding extremely out of breath.

“Yeah, I just…” You took a deep breath, “We can’t do this here.” Quinn furrowed his eyebrows, “Why not? They’re all asleep.”

You shook your head, “I know. But how many times do your brothers wake up around this time to grab something or use the bathroom?”

Quinn took a second to think about your words, realizing you were right. He knew how you felt about people hearing the two of you during such an intimate moment, and he couldn’t help but feel the same way.

He’s the only one who could hear you that way.

After a minute or two, he lifted you off of him and grabbed his phone. Before you could question his actions, he spoke up.

“Put your shoes on. We’re going somewhere.” He mumbled, getting up and walking out of the room.

You took a moment, then immediately snapped into action. You slipped on a pair of Uggs and quietly got up to follow Quinn. Making your way downstairs, you could see your boyfriend standing out on the porch, keys in hand.

Walking over, you slid open the glass door, causing Quinn to turn around. He closed the door quickly, grabbing your hand in his as he walked towards the deck.

Obviously, it wasn’t busy at all. You could see some lights in the distance, coming from the country club, but the lake itself was pretty dark and quiet. Peaceful, even.

By the time you finished taking in the scenery, you could hear the engine of the boat turn on. Quinn grimaced at the loudness before extending his hand out towards you. You gladly accepted, stepping into the boat. You sat on the floor of the boat next to Quinn who was in the driver's seat.

The moment you were in, Quinn was driving off. The further away you got from the house, the more of your surrounding you were able to take in. Small waves were forming the more he sped up. You knew he wasn’t taking in anything, his mind only focused on one goal, but that didn’t stop you from speaking up.

“It’s pretty out here.” You said, looking up at Quinn.

He didn’t answer, instead putting the boat in park. Looking down at you, he gave you a sweet smile before pulling you up to straddle his lap. Quinn took a minute, taking in your features as he rubbed his hands softly over your thighs.

“How did I get so lucky?” He mumbled, leaning in to press his lips on yours.

Like before, there was something so sweet about the kiss. Your lips moved softly against his as you wished you could stay in this moment forever.

However, you both knew that wasn’t going to happen. At least not right now.

As if it was muscle memory, you grind your hips into Quinn slowly, allowing a soft groan to escape his lips. He gave your sides a squeeze as he pressed you down harder, allowing you to feel him through his sweats.

Knowing it was the only thing covering you, he left your hoodie on, not wanting to expose you to the chilly Michigan winds, yet his hands still found their way underneath it. You shivered as he grazed his hands over your breasts, the coldness of his fingers causing your nipples to peak.

Quinn continued his actions as he pulled away from your lips, trailing his kisses from your lips down to your neck. Your hands found their way to the back of his head, gripping tightly as he found that one spot that made you squirm.

You let out a soft moan, “Quinn.”

“I know, baby.” He whispered.

He didn’t stop his attack on your neck as he pulled your panties to the side. The second his fingers came in contact with the wetness between your legs, he couldn’t help but smirk. “All this from a few kisses?”

You didn’t get the chance to respond as he spread your slick around, quickly finding the spot you needed his fingers the most. You let out a moan, louder than you intended to, as Quinn rubbed your clit.

“Shit, Quinn.” You mumbled, biting your lip, trying to keep yourself from getting too loud.

Unfortunately for you, Quinn wasn’t a fan of the silence. He moved his fingers faster, causing more noises to spill involuntarily past and your hips to grind against his hand.

“Been so long. Let me hear you, sweet girl.” He whispered.

At this point, Quinn didn’t care if you were cold or not. He lifted your hoodie up, exposing your bare chest to him. He let out a groan before he got closer, pressing sloppy kisses all over your breasts.

It was slowly becoming too much. His fingers mixed with the feeling of his tongue running over your nipples was getting you closer and closer to your peak.

The second your noises became louder and your back arched closer to his mouth, Quinn knew it was coming.

Suddenly, the knot in your stomach snapped, a stream of obscenities past your lips as your legs shook and you gripped his hair tighter, the groan he let out only adding to the pleasure.

“There you go.” Quinn mumurred, keeping his movements going as he worked you through your high.

You shifted away from his hand the second you came down, silently telling Quinn it was too much. He understood completely, pulling his hand away from your now sensitive pussy.

He placed a soft kiss on your lips, “You did so good, baby. You always do.”

His praise was something you would never get sick of, especially during moments like this. It let you know that he cared about you, not that you ever questioned it, but the constant reassurance made sure of that.

Quinn wanted to give you a minute to rest, but you didn’t need it. Almost instantly, you lifted your hips, tugging at the waistband of his pants. He chuckled as you struggled to get them down due to his seated position.

After a few seconds of laughing at your struggles, he helped you out. He lifted his hips and pulled them down along with his navy boxers.

You let out a soft gasp as his cock slapped against his stomach. He laughed softly at your reaction, knowing you’ve seen it a million times. Pulling you back towards him, he kissed you slowly.

You were getting antsy, wanting nothing more than for him to be inside of you. You pulled away suddenly, causing a look of confusion to wash over his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need you, Quinny.” You admitted bashfully.

A smirk appeared on his face, “Yeah? What do you need from me, pretty girl?”

You were at a loss for words, the only thoughts forming in your head being lewd ones. When you didn’t answer, Quinn bucked his hips up, the tip of his cock nudging against your clit. The noise that escaped your mouth was one Quinn would never forget.

“That.” You whispered, “I need you to fuck me, Quinn.”

He smiled at your confession. Deciding not to make you wait any longer, he lined himself up before entering you with one swift thrust. The two of you let out matching moans at the action, neither one of you moving as you adjusted to feeling.

“I missed you.” Quinn panted, trying his best not to move until you did.

You closed your eyes as you lifted your hips before dropping them again, causing a raspy moan to pass Quinn’s lips. “I missed you too.”

Opening your eyes, you got a good look at Quinn’s current state. You had only moved once, but his head was thrown back and his eyes were shut as he breathed heavily. You smiled at the sight, deciding to move your hips up again to see his reaction.

The second you did, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He snapped his head up and began thrusting into you relentlessly. By the way he was feeling, Quinn wasn’t sure if he’d last.

“Oh my god.” You cried out, trying to stay up straight.

Quinn let out a strangled gasp, “You feel so good, Y/N. So-” He cut himself off with a loud groan as you clenched around him involuntarily.

Your head came down onto his shoulders as you wrapped your hands around his upper body to keep yourself grounded. Your nails dragged down his back, a cry of pleasure leaving your mouth as he hit that spot inside of you that made you see stars.

He let out a guttural moan at the feeling, knowing the scratches would be red and visible in the morning.

You rise and fall on his cock, harder and faster as you match his thrusts, his only response being a breathy grunt at the overwhelming feeling.

“I’m close, Quinny.” You whimpered, trying your best to prolong your orgasm as much as you could in order to not end the moment.

But you could only do so much.

Quinn brought one hand down from your waist to your clit, pressing down rather hard before rubbing it for the second time that night.

“Shit!” You called out.

You couldn’t keep up as he buried himself impossibly deeper into you. His actions were becoming more and more sloppy as he got close. And by the way his grip got tighter on your hip, you could tell he was right there with you.

You let out a breathy moan, “I’m gonna come.”

Quinn’s finger sped up, as did his hips, “Then come, baby. No one’s stopping you.”

It was those words that did it.

For the second time that night, you let go, allowing yourself to be in complete euphoria as Quinn continued moving, trying to extend your moment of pure bliss.

The feeling of your muscles contracting around him caused Quinn to let go with you, his release spurting inside of you as he let out noise that could only be described as sinful.

When you both came to, he placed loving kisses on your shoulder. “Did so good for me. So good.”

You made a noise, your body too exhausted to move from your current position. You both didn’t make any effort to move away from each other, trying to enjoy the closeness you had been starved of since the start of the offseason.

“I love you.” Quinn whispered, “I love you more than you know.”

A sweet smile formed on your face, “I love you too.”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes x reader #nhl #nhl hockey

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sun-kissy · 2 months ago

Text

stars & spaghetti | r.b.

a/n: here i go again, not taking a break 😭 i swear i just needed to write this! thank you @lovemenotts for encouraging me to post it 🫶 i love you lily

tw: eating disorder recovery

Regulus knows where to find you, but he also knows better than to act like he was looking for you with two bowls of food in hand.

“Hey.”

You almost jump at the sound of his voice. You turn around from where you’re sitting on the porch, giving him a small smile. “Hi.”

His heart drops a little when he sees your face, with your sunken eyes and tired expression.

“I didn’t realize you were home already. Did you come through the back?”

He hums an affirmative, sitting down next to you on the steps leading out the house.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as you slouch onto the railing on your left, blankly staring out at the road. “How’s your day been?”

Regulus casually twirls his fork into the spaghetti in his bowl before bringing it to his mouth. Maybe he believes he’s being slick, you think, but it’s obvious that he’s got twice his usual serving.

“Today’s been fine, yeah. Just busy. How was work?”

He nods in response, “Good, actually. Mark finally sent me the files I needed to get that huge contract signed, and —” He presses his fork into the pasta again, but this time brings it up to your mouth (hoping you’re too distracted to mind).

His heart drops and how instantly you swerve backwards, almost crashing into the step behind you.

“Reg,” it comes out as a betrayed hiss. You take a shaky exhale before sitting back upright. “I don’t want any; I’ve eaten dinner already.”

“Have you?”

“Yes, I —“

“Then why’s the kitchen completely clean?”

Regulus never takes a harsh tone with you, and he wasn’t going to start now. There’s nothing but quiet, genuine concern in the way he asks. Guilt claws at the back of your throat anyway.

It was one of your worse days; thoughts of excessive calories and not having worked out being all you could think about. You’d stared at yourself in the mirror for what seemed like hours, cursing every flaw of your body and wondering why me.

Without your boyfriend home, it had just felt like there was no reason to fatten yourself.

“Hey,” Regulus mutters, laying his palm facing upwards on your lap. You take it. “You’re getting in your head again.”

“Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, lovely girl.” He reaches out to gently brush a stray hair away from your face. “But do you think you could try to eat something? Please?”

Your heart stops, and it’s like your mind is reeling back into its hiding spot already. No lies on the tip of your tongue.

“It doesn’t have to be a lot, dove, he continues quietly, rubbing your fingers. “Just a few bites. You need fuel, you know.”

Regulus is looking into your eyes with that silent look now, the one which makes you feel like he’d do just about anything to save you from yourself. You don’t think you could ever say no to him.

And it wasn’t like you’d eaten anything today. You were allowed this, for your boyfriend, right?

“Fine.”

He smiles softy and tugs you closer, stamping a kiss to the side of your forehead and picking up the bowl of pasta from beside him. “So, remember that bouquet I bought you last week?”

He starts to make casual conversation as he feeds you, and you do your best to listen. It goes all the way from those flowers were expensive! to maybe we should get a cat — or a new apartment — but NOT a dog.

The food gets lodged in your throat every now and then, but you force yourself to swallow. The ‘full’ feeling starts to creep up on you like your shadow.

Regulus can sense it. “Okay, but why the hell do you like dogs?”

You decide to indulge him and go off on a tangent about the fluffy beasts, which pulls your mind away from its dark corner. The conversation makes the chore of eating easier.

You’re sure he knows what he’s doing, but you’re going to let him anyway.

Before you know it, you’re laughing so hard you don’t even realize the bowl is empty. He stands up to put it away before you get the chance to think too hard about it.

Regulus sits back down next to you. He starts to tell you about the stars, then, and you listen intently. It’s late, but you wouldn’t know what time it is. Time didn’t exist in your little bubble.

At one point you’ve curled into him the furthest you can. Your eyelids are being pulled down by the weight of fatigue, his comforting presence lulling you closer towards sleep.

He thinks you don’t hear it when he murmurs a soft I’m proud of you. You do.

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locallepidoptera · 11 months ago

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i've since finished my catch up. and now i'm both happier for it and incredibly sad there's not more. such is life. man. fans' fiction fucking rocks. and i needed a reminder. i'm on my way to reread. wishing you so much luck in all your endeavors!! thanks for being an inspiration!!

happy almost christmas. means it wasn't christmas :)) i had been listening to a new aa1 playthrough to pass the time and it reminded me that. unfortunately. i do think edgeworth is cool (i talk in jest. about it being unfortunate. lol. i'm just not into "cool" charas usually) and it reminded me that i. really need to catch up with saturation. hell maybe reread it once i'm done. i'm in need of good fic. i'm not really a quality snob usually but i've found i just don't have the energy right now to search through the main tag. and your style of writing lets me turn my brain off. < - positive connotation. if that wasn't clear.

^U^ Thanks, and Merry Actually Christmas! ;D And XD, no worries, I get it - Edgeworth is very much one of those "Unfortunately, I'm into it" characters in regards to his everything. And I say that as someone who's writing him one of the world's longest love letters in the form of a fic that's going to break 300k when the next chapter goes up and a tidy (if tiny) little AA merch collection that I'm quite proud of, if I do say so myself. ;)

"and your style of writing lets me turn my brain off" Good, wild as it may sound for a slowburn mega!fic, Saturation's meant to be a nice comfy read, so that you're able to switch off and just enjoy the fic is good. Like, I'm trying to ensure that there's plenty to be found on a deeper read, because I enjoy doing that, but if it's not enjoyable to partake in on purely the surface level, what's even the point? Anyway, thanks for the ask, and I hope you have fun on the catch-up/reread! ^U^

#hey warning i talk a lot in the tags about personal sorta feelings. so.#aa fanfic. always a hit or miss for me. i say that with no ill will! its really a huge fandom nd i have vv specific tastes i've discovered #not so much in quality but in subject matter. nd besides. i'm neutral on a lot of fan favs and in love with a lot of generally hated charas #phoenix and edgeworth are both exceptions to that. i like them a lot. but i. naturally. dislike fics that dunk on my favs. even offhandedly #and it can be hard to find fics that i know won't. or hell. just artists that i know won't. so ace attorney is a fandom i tread vv lightly #this blogs always been an escape from that and i'm happy for it. number 2 reason i'm so excited for the in-universe time to pass is #i'm really excited to see the second trilogy adjacent plot-lines approached with. genuinely anything but total hatred. delights me #the glimpses we've got so far r some of my favorite parts of the fic #number 1 reason. is. you write good. i don't know what else to say #if i had a nickel for every time i've written down rambly tmi posts about why i love saturation i'd have two nickels. which isnt a lot but #last one's more than a year old and had a billion grammar mistakes #but i look back on it fondly anyways. i like getting my feelings out #since that last post! i've actually written fanfic! its not aa and it isn't posted anywhere but ao3 (even then. nothing but a fandom tag)#cuz i'm embarrassed. but i'm happy i wrote it down anyway. you + lots of other fic writers have changed me forever and it shows and #i'm happy that it shows. i love creating and i love others creating #online writers have bettered my writing. online visual artists have bettered my visual art. online poets have bettered my poetry. and #i wouldn't have it any other way. life is fun we r young etc. yknow

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forever-rogue · 10 months ago

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I have a pretty personal request ❤️ (and I completely understand if you don't feel comfortable writing it.)

But I have been struggling with self-esteem and acceptance of myself since gaining some weight. I know I'm beautiful, but that stupid, nagging voice in the back of my head can be a bitch.

I came up with an idea about reader who's in an established relationship with Joel Miller. They've settled into Jackson, and with the changes that come with that stability, she's noticed the changes in her own body and has to deal with it. I can just imagine how soft and fluffy Joel would be once he's made aware of what she's dealing with.

Or maybe I just really need a Joel of my own to cuddle and tell me I'm beautiful 🥺🥰

Thank you!!

AN | Here you go, I hope you enjoy! Also, a friendly reminder that you're lovely just the way you are 🥰

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Weight Discussion

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was the first time you'd looked at yourself in a mirror in a long time. Like properly looked at yourself. You'd been in Jackson for a few months now and were experiencing a stability that you hadn't known in so long. It still felt odd some days, waking up next to Joel in a warm, soft bed without having to worry about anything. But it was slowly becoming your normal life and while it was an adjustment, you were beginning to love it.

Happiness and peace looked good on Joel and Ellie. And you. But, and this was what had been nagging you, lingering in the back of your mind, you'd noticed some physical changes as well as everything else. You'd felt them before you'd fully looked at them - at yourself.

The bathroom boasted a large mirror but you usually didn't spend a while lot of time looking at yourself. You hadn't for years, so why start now?

Well, the simple answer was that now the changes were undeniable.

With a heavy sigh, you closed the bathroom door and glanced at yourself. Your face was a little fuller than you'd remembered, the darkness around your eyes lessened. Your skin looked good and your hair was styled and shiny. These were the changes you liked to see. You noticed the same, more or less, on Joel and Ellie too.

It was the rest you were worried about. You shucked off your sweater and pajamas pants and slowly allowed yourself to look over your body. You didn’t fixate on your body too much; for a long time survival and getting through your day to day was all that was on your mind. But now it felt like you had all the time in the world.

As you looked yourself over, you could see that there had been some physical changes. You looked softer, your tummy and hips fuller than you’d remembered since you were young, your thighs bigger as well. You sighed to yourself and turned on the showers before you could think too much about it. It wasn’t a big deal, you reminded yourself, it wasn’t a big deal.

You heard a knock on the door before it was slowly pushed open and Joel poked his head, “hey sweetheart, got room for one more?”

You panicked for a moment, trying to figure out how you could manage to get out of this one, “umm, I’m almost done actually. I’ll be out in a second and then its all yours.”

“Alright,” he lingered for a moment; you knew that he knew that something was up. Joel wasn’t stupid and he was very perceptive, “sounds good. Everything alright?”

“Of course,” you almost choked on the lie, “everything’s fine.”

Joel made a small sound before gently closing the door. You tried to swallow back your tears but soon enough they were running down your cheeks and mixing in with the stream from the shower.

It was just another change and it would be okay. You’d get there eventually…you hoped.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey baby,” Joel found you as you were in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner, a small smile on his face. He’d noticed that you’d been acting a little off but didn’t want to push it, he knew that you’d go to him when you were ready to.

“Hi Joel,” you looked up and offered him a smile you hoped mirrored his own, “what’s up?”

“Nothing,” he insisted softly as he came over to you, “just wanted to see my girl.”

You tutted at him softly as he came to stand behind you, wrapping an arm around your middle as he leaned his chin on your shoulder. You froze for a moment, sure that he was going to make some sort of comment about how soft or squishy your body was but he said nothing, instead pressing some kisses to your shoulder. You stopped what you were doing, closing your eyes and leaning into him, “Joel.”

“I love you, you know,” he whispered before you slowly turned around in his arms so you could face him. He reached up and put his hand on your face, slowly brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“I know,” you promised, leaning into his touch and turning your face so you could press a kiss to his palm, “I love you too.”

He watched you for a moment before leaning in to kiss you. You decided not to think too much about, not to worry about anything, and instead leaned into him and kissed him right back. It had been a bit since the two of you had a bit of time alone, and you hadn’t helped anything but pulling away from him whenever it was just the two of you. But you’d missed this and missed him, his touch, his everything.

You relaxed into his touch, letting him kiss you dizzy. Eventually his hands wandered down to your hips and that caused you to freeze up. You put your hands on his forearms and pulled away from him, breaking the kiss. Joel, good man that he was, stopped immediately and let go of you. You shook your head, more at yourself than anything else and blinked back your tears, “sorry, I just…it’s me.”

“It’s alright,” he whispered softly, “you don’t have to apologize. If you want to talk about whatever’s been going on, I’m here. You know that, I ain’t going anywhere. I love you.”

You inhaled deeply before slowly letting it all out and nodded, “thank you.”

“Do you want a hand finishing dinner?”

“Yes,” you appreciated the kind and gentle man that he was, “I’d like that a lot.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You walked into the bedroom, finding Joel already in bed and reading. You closed the door and leaned against, looking him over for a moment. He paused after a moment and looked up at you before marking his page and setting it to the side, “penny for your thoughts?”

You nodded slowly before making your way to the bed, sitting cross-legged on top of the covers next to him. There were a few moments of silence as you sat there and picked at a few loose strands on the hem of your sweater. Joel reached out and gave your knee a gentle squeeze. You reached for his hand and weaved your fingers through his, “I don’t want you to hate me.”

“Baby,” a small huff of laughter escaped him but his voice was low and gentle, “I don’t know what you could have done or do that would ever make me hate you. That’s impossible.”

“It’s just…I don’t know,” you shrugged, reassured a little bit that he wouldn’t hate you anyway, “I really like it here in Jackson. I’ve liked it since we’ve been here. But I think I’ve gotten too comfortable.”

“Too comfortable?” he repeated slowly, “ain’t that a good thing?”

“It’s….my body,” you admitted reluctantly, “I look different…I’ve gained weight. I don’t look like I used.”

“Okay,” he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. You were a bit taken aback by his nonchalant response, “I guess I don’t understand why it’s a big deal. But I want to understand.”

“I…because I look different and I was worried that you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

“That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard,” he tugged on your hand in a small attempt to pull you closer, “there’s nothing you could do to make me love you any less. That includes your body changing - happens to everyone. I’ve grown a little softer around the middle since we’ve been there but I haven’t heard you complaining. We’ve all grown comfortable here, but that’s a good thing, it means we’re safe and home and we’re living. Not just alive, but living.”

“I…hadn’t thought about it that way,” you whispered, “I hadn’t really noticed anything different about you.

“See? It didn’t matter to you, why would it matter to me? And even if it wasn’t any of those things, it wouldn’t matter to me. I love you,” you were perched on his lap now, looking at him with soft eyes. His hands settled on your hips and he gave them a gentle squeeze, “besides, ain’t nothing wrong with a little thicker, baby.”

“Joel,” you were laughing now, but a few tears managed to run down your cheeks; but these ones weren’t of sadness. He wiped them away tenderly, “thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he insisted, “I’m just telling you how it is. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me and only had sex in the total darkness?” admittedly it sounded silly when he said it like that. Your face warmed up as you bit your lip and shyly nodded. That look on its own was enough to make him practically melt, “oh baby.”

“It didn’t seem stupid at the time!” you burrowed your face in your hands to try and hide but he pulled your hands away from your face, “don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not, it’s affectionate,” he grinned, “you also don’t think I noticed anything. I might be dumb at times, but I ain’t stupid.”

“But you didn’t…say anything,” you cocked your head to the side as he raised an eyebrow.

“Again…why would I have?”

“You’re the best,” you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in to hug him, clinging onto him like a koala, “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, “no matter what either of us look like. You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“No you’re just trying to flatter me,” you snorted in amusement as you pulled back to look at him, “don’t look at me like that with those big brown eyes, Miller. That’s cheating!”

“It’s not flattery, it’s the truth,” he said, “and I’ll look at you any which way I want. Okay?”

“Okay,” you teased, “whatever you say.”

“That’s right,” he nodded in agreement, “now take off this sweater and leave the light on…only if you want to though.”

“Now that I can do,” you grinned, “gladly.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #tlou #pedro pascal

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strongheartneteyam · 1 year ago

Text

Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!human!reader/female!dreamwalker!reader

Neteyam is aged up.

Chapter 2

CW: angst, reader hates her life, neteyam is like her "secret admirer" but he eventually becomes obsessed, so, it gives off some creepy vibes, possessive neteyam, forbidden love, neteyam is REALLY protective over her, neteyam isn't really fond of humans (hates them) and only makes an exception for reader, TRIGGER WARNING for a few depression symptoms (such as reader holding back tears and looking miserable really often), stalking, obsessive behavior & possessiveness

Synopsis: Reader is unhappy with her human life. She works for the lab as a cook. She's a Dreamwalker and she spends every free day she gets walking through Pandora's forests. In one of those days, Neteyam sees her but she doesn't notice him. He falls in love, seeing how happy she is amidst nature. Neteyam finds out she's actually a human in an Avatar, so, he finds a way to go where her real body is. He hates to admit it but, seeing her in her human body, he realizes he still loves her. After watching her, he notices how she's always happier when she's in her Avatar, so, he develops a deeper connection to her. However, he becomes obsessive. Reader has only heard about him, the famous son of Jake Sully and future Olo'eyktan, praised for his great achievements as a young Omatikaya. After getting reader's attention, Neteyam asks her to choose to live forever in her Avatar, becoming his mate and making tsaheylu with him, gaining a new home as a fresh member of his tribe. Reader is scared and torn, since, even though she's intensely attracted to him and only truly enjoys life when she's Dreamwalking, she doesn't really know him and she's afraid of dying when trying to go past Eywa's eye. But Neteyam just won't give up on her that easily.

♡ This is Reader's Avatar

☆ This is the official playlist for this story, the songs I listen to while working on it.

•

Finally, this fanfic is out!! lots of people seemed to love the tiny sneak peek I posted so... I hope you guys will love the fanfic itself too hehe I'm so relieved I could finally post it ooof My environment is the worst EVER rn & i haven't had any motivation or focus to write lately BUT i seem to be getting out of that damned writer's block I was in (ITS THE WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD UGH HATE IT TO DEATH)

Not proofread. My life is a hurricane, so, we don't work with proofread stories here. Hope you find it in your hearts to forgive me, my angels :')

na'vi words:

yawne - beloved

tsaheylu - the neurological bond the na'vi make with their mate, through their tendrils, at the end of their long braid.

Chapter 1

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

I love your touch, cold as ice

And I love every single tear you cry

I just love the way you're losing your life

Oh, my baby, how beautiful you are

Oh, my darling, completely torn apart

Gone With The Sin (HIM)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Neteyam would look at you every moment he could. He didn't have that much free time since he was the Olo'eyktan's son and had so many responsibilities weighting on his shoulders. But he would always make any sacrifice he needed to make to find time to see you. Even if it meant using the few hours he had to himself to contemplate you. His sad, gloomy-eyed, beautiful girl. You were not actually his yet, but, he was determined to make that change.

Neteyam saw you holding back tears way too damn often, so, he was always deeply worried about you, and, that was one of the reasons why he was always creeping around, high up in branches of trees located in Hell's Gate, watching over you, almost every day, ready to help you, defend you from any danger, to say "screw it" to how out of the blue it would be if he - a stranger, a male na'vi stranger - just came up to you and said "hey, I've been watching you for a while, and… I'm so, so in love with you. Please, leave this damn idiotic human life you live and let Eywa help you be transferred to your Avatar body for good, just like she helped my father. You're so insanely pretty like this - and I have never felt attracted to any female of your demon kind before, so, believe me when I talk about your beauty - but you look even prettier when you're in your Avatar form. Let me make you my mate, let me make you the future Olo'eyktan's mate. I can give you a far better life than the one you have now"

He knew he was just a weird alien boy (as the humans would probably say), stalking you, always up in the highest tree branches he could find and reach, watching a girl while she cooks - as it was your job - like a hunter watching their prey. But he meant no harm. On the contrary, he meant to take care of you, to save you from it all. Because he wasn't blind. Neteyam saw how unhappy you looked while peeling potatoes (he knew what they were because his dad who was once human told him and his siblings about how delicious that vegetable from Earth tasted, especially when it was made as French fries) to cook on the high-tech stove the humans used to prepare their meals in and prepare mashed potatoes to those damn lab guys who invaded his Planet and did nothing but harm.

Neteyam thought it to be unnecessary. His future mate could easily prepare the same potatoes in a bonfire he would light up for you in the Omatikaya forest. He knew they would taste even better roasted in the natural fire than just plainly cooked in that energy fueled cooking device the humans used. He could give you a life so incredibly better than the one you had right now, it pained him to see his yawne working so hard to feed every damn scientist in that cold, air-conditioned lab while not being as appreciated and thanked by them as you deserved to be. You could be preparing food to feed his children instead, the sons and daughters he would give you, if only you accepted becoming his forever mate.

He hated the humans. They didn't know how to lead a proper life. But you were different.

Neteyam knew how breathtaking you looked in a na'vi like body because the first time he saw you, you were in your Avatar body - as you were a Dreamwalker - and that's when he fell in love with you. But he learned to love your human body too. He could never hate you, even in your human form. You were the only human he did not despise.

The day Neteyam first saw you, he was out in the forest to hunt and gather food, collecting bladder polyps, lionberry seeds and trying to kill a hexapede, so, he could bring all of it home and him and his family could eat a nutritious dinner.

That's when he heard a squeaky, funny laugh. It was a female voice, he recognized. Neteyam followed that sound just like he was a sailor and the girl whose laugh he heard was a mermaid, bewitching his senses and drawing him closer.

When he saw you, it was like his heart was going to explode in a thousand pieces, so fast it was beating inside his rigid ribcage, so strongly the blood was being pumped through his arteries. He knew he had to make you his mate, to have you forever.

Neteyam had always been a practical and rational young man, he had to be. He was the eldest son and had to look after his 3 younger siblings and not show a single sign of weakness when his father would scold him in a harsh tone, whenever any of his siblings - specially his younger brother, Lo'ak -, got into trouble and somehow, Neteyam ended up having to take responsibility over their actions. "But that girl… that beautiful, ethereal girl… she makes me believe in things I've never even considered before. I know it sounds stupid to say that about a girl I just met, only some minutes ago but I don't care", he thought. Only he and Eywa herself knew the raw, powerful feeling he was experiencing at that moment. He just wanted to let go for a while. To not force himself to be all brains, zero heart for once, just once. And you were gifting him the opportunity to do just that. Your beauty was so enchanting, it could leave any creature in awe.

His father had once told him about Christianity, one of the most popular religions back on the glory days of the Planet Earth, and, of course he didn't follow those beliefs, his spirituality was completely based on Eywa, the Great Mother, the spirit and moving energy of Pandora, but, if the beings called "angels" his father talked about were real, Neteyam was utterly sure that they could only look like you.

You were perfect. Every curve of your body, every bioluminescent freckle, every pattern of your stripes, your long dark braided hair falling like water on your flawless back, as you kept smiling and touching every single flower you could see, playing in a foolish way, just like a child. He felt a primal urge coming from his guts to make tsaheylu with you right there, right at that moment.

So many thoughts roamed through Neteyam's mind: "I need her… right here, right now. She's… ugh… I've never felt anything like this before… What's going on with your stupid mind, Neteyam?! You can't just choose any girl to be your mate, you'll be the next Olo'eyktan, remember?! The best choice would be a girl who has a calling to be Tsahìk. Maybe your parents will try to arrange a marriage, to find the perfect match for you. Damn! Who am I trying to fool? She is the only perfect match for me…"

Neteyam started to watch you go about the forest every chance he got.

When he found out you were actually a Dreamwalker, a human in a body created in a laboratory, a hybrid of demon and na'vi, a freak... It was like his world was falling apart, piece by tiny piece crashing on the floor. How did he not notice your fifth finger before?! Was he that much under your spell, that blinded by how beautiful and charming you were?, he asked himself.

So, he told himself he was going to find a way to at least see what your true form looked like. He hissed at the thoughts and feelings you had caused him the whole way to Hell's Gate, where the laboratory was and where he knew all the humans that stayed in Pandora and had an Avatar stayed.

When Neteyam saw you in your human body, he got hit by something as strong as lightning. The moment he sniffed your sweet scent (the smell you had in your Avatar had notes of your original human scent, as your DNA was used to build that body), the moment he recognized that melodious voice… The expression in those eyes, that smile, that laughter… it was you. His yawne.

He didn't understand how that was possible, what he was feeling. Nevertheless, he realized he still loved you. His heart still beat fast for you. It didn't matter which physical form you took. Na'vi or human. You were you. And he loved you. Madly.

His people had a great contempt towards the ones who Dreamwalked. They were "demons in false bodies", like his grandma and his mother always said. And Neteyam himself felt the same. Worse, he had felt disgusted by the love and desire you made him feel, back when he watched you wandering around the Omatikaya lands, when you would jump like a little kid, so happy playing with the bioluminescent, neon plants of the forest.

But, still, that feeling lingered inside him. The attachment, the deep affection, the devotion… He could not comprehend it.

All Neteyam could grasp was that he hated all humans, but you were the only exception.

Even though you were originally human, you had a na'vi heart. He just knew that. As crazy and impossible as it sounded, he figured out it was true. And that blew his mind. That sorrowful girl he was seeing cooking in a small technological kitchen was not the same one he had seen at the forest. But it was, at the same time. It apparently made no sense, but it actually did. You were not where you belonged. You did not belong imprisoned among those four walls that the other humans kept you in. That you were keeping yourself in. You belonged free amidst the Pandoran trees. You did not belong in those big human clothes. You belonged in a comfortable loincloth and a big leaf necklace covering your beautiful breasts, letting the wind hit your skin.

You seemed out of place in that environment you were currently in. And that made Neteyam feel something so overpowering. He knew it was useless to try and fight it. He was not even sure if he even wanted to fight it anymore. That feeling was good. It felt just like what he felt when he thought you were a na'vi girl. He even felt attracted to you, even though he still thought you looked much prettier in your Avatar body.

He was fully aware you were one of the demons. But you were not like the rest of them. You were special. He could tell that. He could tell you'd be a hundred per cent happier if he could convince you to become na'vi. And that's exactly what he was planning to do. He still did not know how, but he would find a way.

༊⁀➷

Taglist:

@crazy4books1

@samistars

@lik0

@miri-belle

@nerdybouquetofkittens-blog

@xxunnie

@your-girl-mj

@sereisstuff

@darktyrantwinner

@henhouse-horrors

@explosiongamora

@yeosxxx

#neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x human reader #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x f!reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #atwow neteyam #avatar fanfic #avatar fanfiction #neteyam x dreamwalker!reader #neteyam x omatikaya!reader #neteyam x human #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam angst #neteyam #neteyam fic #kxamtxomaw writes

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bitterkarella · 11 months ago

Text

Midnight Pals: 2 Fisted Tales

Stephen King: hey patricia is it true you used to write comics? Patricia Highsmith: [long cigarette drag] Highsmith: who told you that

King: well, i just heard- Highsmith: was it stan lee? Highsmith: musta been stan lee Highsmith: never met a cat who talked so much Highsmith: might as well be a dame with all the yap yap yappin

Dean Koontz: wowwwww did you really meet stan lee, patricia? Highsmith: yeah Koontz: wowwww! what was that like? [flashback] Stan Lee: hey there comics fans its me, stan lee Lee: how bout a date? Highsmith: no dice

Poe: steve King: i just thought she'd like to tell us about her Poe: steve Poe: just no Poe: no King: ok fine Barker: i'm gonna hear the comic story Poe: CLIVE NO

King: ah but patricia i think we'd all like to hear a comics story Patricia Highsmith: i ain't gonna tell no comic story King: well maybe I can't convince you King: but I bet I know someone who can! Alan Moore: [appearing in a flash] who dares summon the arch magus? King: the arch magus! Poe: the arch magus! Koontz: the arch magus!

Moore: speak! what boon ask ye of the arch magus? King: hey alan you've worked in comics King: how about you tell patricia that comics aren't stupid Moore: Moore: i cannot tell her that

Moore: comics are the bane of my existence! a curse upon them! Highsmith: now this guy, this guy i like Highsmith: he's got a real noodle in his noggin Moore: the arch magus would do well to hear your counsel, mortal Highsmith: sure, we could jaw a bit

Highsmith: how you feel about snails, archmagus? Moore: be these your familiars? Highsmith: "familiars" Highsmith: listen to this cat

Highsmith: ok fine you mooks wanna hear about my comics Highsmith: i'll tell ya Highsmith: but only cuz i'm here among bros Highsmith: long as its just dudes Highsmith: cuz these stories Highsmith: they get a little rough Highsmith: and you know how dames are

Highsmith: so this story's just for us dudes Highsmith: so franz Franz Kafka: what? Highsmith: you gotta go Kafka: huh? what? Kafka: why? Highsmith: you just gotta go Kafka: i don't understand Barker: oh my god franz get a clue Poe: clive

Highsmith: submitted for the approval of the midnight pals Highsmith: i call this the tale of the crime puncher Highsmith: it's about this real swole square headed guy who punches criminals Highsmith: pow! punch! bam! Highsmith: that's what comics are all about

Highsmith: so there're these 2 palookas who fight crime Highsmith: named steve and ploopie Barker: i'm sorry what Highsmith: steve and ploopie Barker: steve and WHAT Highsmith: what, you got cabbage in your ears? ploopie Barker: Barker: i'm sorry WHAT

Highsmith: anyway steve and ploopie gotta do some punching Barker: there's a lot of punching in these stories Highsmith: that's what kids want in comics Barker: huh sure yeah Barker: Barker: i'm sorry steve and WHAT Poe: let it go, clive

Highsmith: so this world war i playing ace crashes into a polish swamp Highsmith: when he dies, it creates a big mud monster Highsmith: who goes to america to harass some kid for his model air plane Barker: i'm starting to see why you didn't want to tell these stories Poe: CLIVE

Highsmith: i didn't just do action comics tho Highsmith: i wrote educational ones too Highsmith: like the two-fisted tales of oliver cromwell Highsmith: or don't mess with galileo Highsmith: or catherine the great takes out the trash

King: why didn't you stick with comics, patricia? Patricia Highsmith: eh you know how the comics biz is King: but I've heard its actually a growth industry Highsmith: is that so King: yeah they tell me that there's lots of opportunities in comics for girls Highsmith: ugh pass

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #stephen king #clive barker #edgar allan poe #dean koontz #patricia highsmith #alan moore #franz kafka #stan lee

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obsessedwithtoomanythings · 1 year ago

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Keep Your Eyes Open

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader

Warnings: Smut, P in V, female anatomy, reader is called she, lots of talk of guns, but no gunplay (I mean, it’s on the table and it’s in her hand, but it’s never explicitly used for the sexual stuff), dirty talk, crush confessions, Leon asks her out then fucks her.

Words: 4K

A/N: This is my first smut in forever. Cheers to Leon S. Kennedy for bringing back that smut inspiration! Inspired by this post! Thanks to @angelltheninth for letting me write it!

“Listen, you know I consider you a friend… but-” Hunnigan starts, eyes filled with concern as she looks over the piece of paper littered with holes. Let’s just say more of my shots ended up in the wall behind the target than the actual target.

“I know, that’s why I’ve been going every day, Ingrid.” My defense is pointless, and we both know that.

“Your firearm recertification is in 3 days. If your accuracy doesn’t get better by then, you won’t be allowed to carry a gun. Do you understand what that means?” She asks as if I haven’t been losing sleep over the issue.

“I know.” It means I’ll be the only agent in this fucking building who isn’t carrying a gun. “I’ll become ‘the girl who can’t carry a gun’ faster than you can say ‘fuck off’.”

A scowl comes from the agent in front of me. “Language,” she reminds. “Maybe you should ask another agent to help?”

“And let the whole building know I’m about 11 shots away from failing my recertification? Pass. I’ll just go practice some more,” I scoff, before turning on my heel to step toward the door.

“Just think about it! I know a lot of agents who aren’t dicks and who are more than willing to help!” She shouts, but I’m not listening anymore. I step out of Ingrid’s office into the cool hallway, shutting the door behind me with an almost silent click. Taking a steadying breath, my feet begin to carry me toward the place I’ve been seeing in my nightmares lately. The shooting range.

“Hey, rookie!” I hear a voice say, halting me in my tracks before I was able to close much distance between me and the stairs. I turn my head toward the voice. Leon Kennedy.

“What’s up, Agent Kennedy?” It feels formal to call him that, but while we’re in this building, it feels wrong to call him by his first name, given he is technically my superior.

“Agent Kennedy? Feels a little formal,” he says with a teasing tone, and I chuckle at him voicing my thoughts.

“Well, we are at work,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. Leon and I have become an unlikely pair of friends. The best agent in practically the entire country and the agent who is about to fail her firearm recertification. ‘Maybe he’d be willing to help me?’ The thought is dismissed as quickly as it appeared. ‘And make him think you’re incompetent? Pass.’

“True. Still feels weird though, Agent.”

“Wow!” I gasp in feigned surprise. “I’m not ‘rookie’ anymore?” A small smile makes its way across his lips as he chuckles.

“You’re definitely still ‘rookie’, just felt like being nice.” His comment is followed by a brief roll of my eyes.

“Okay but seriously? What’s up? I have some stuff I have to do, unfortunately,” I sigh, anxiety filling me again.

“Well, I wanted to see what you were up to.” The smile is still there. Any idiot with eyes can see how attractive Leon is. Bright baby blues, cut jawline, nose that anyone would be lucky to sit on. I have definitely had more than my fair share of daydreams starring the agent in front of me.

“I was headed down to the shooting range. I have my recertification in 3 days.” I pray he’ll opt to find something else to do.

“Oh, that shit’s a cakewalk.” Yeah, for you.

“I really want to practice a bit more. I get nervous before stuff like this.” Admitting this is not an easy feat, my cheeks dusting a light pink in embarrassment.

“Okay,” he says, and for a moment, I think he’ll depart with a ‘good luck’ and a wave. Why the hell would I be so lucky? “I’ll come with. I’ve taken that test a few times so I’ll be able to reassure you that you’ll pass with flying colors.” My eyes widen significantly, and the nerves suddenly take over my tongue.

“N-no!” I stutter, much louder than I intended. His eyebrows furrow over in confusion at the sudden outburst. “I-I just assume you’ve got better things to do.” Smooth.

“Not really. I was hoping to spend some time with you, so it’s no big deal.” Kill me now. He moves toward me, wrapping an arm around my waist to turn me and walk toward the range. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

This is going worse than I could have ever imagined. The target has maybe 3 holes in it and I’ve unloaded a whole clip of 15 shots.

“Well, it’s better than the last clip,” he chuckles, eyes still locked on my practically unscathed piece of paper. The shots didn’t even hit anything vital. I drop my head to the countertop in front of me in defeat.

“I may as well just hand over my gun right now,” I mutter into the hard surface below my forehead. Leon’s hand rests on my back comfortingly before he speaks.

“No, come on. I’ll help you,” he says, bringing the target closer to switch it out for a new one. I turn my head toward him with raised eyebrows, mostly in a ‘how can you possibly fix this?’, my temple resting against the cool surface now. “I noticed a couple of things you can fix that’ll help.” A sigh, forehead back on the counter. Leon pats my back again. “Seriously. Come on.” I rise up again, cheeks red from embarrassment as he pushes the target back to the required distance. Not that I think I’d do any better if it was closer.

“Leon, it’s pointless.”

“No, it’s not. Raise the gun.” I roll my eyes and do as he instructed. “Okay, first off, you’re locking your elbows. Loosen up.” He says, tapping a finger in the crook of my elbow. A chill runs down my spine at the contact. ‘Wow, it’s been too long since I got laid.’ I drop my elbows slightly, noting that it definitely feels awkward.

“This feels weird,” I mutter. Leon smirks.

“I’m sure it does if you’ve been firing with your elbows like that. Loosening them helps with controlling movement caused by the recoil.” He explains, and I’m grateful he’s actually telling me reasons, as it’ll make it easier to remember. “Do you fire with your feet like that?” I glance down at my position, my feet across from each other, shoulder width apart.

“Yeah?” I say, forming it as a question.

“Bring your dominant foot forward. It’ll steady you more,” He says, his tone definitely airing more on the professional side.

“Sir, yes, sir.” The words are mumbled with a light giggle at the end, and a small smile raises the corner of Leon’s lips.

“Okay try firing now.”

I squeeze the trigger slowly, the jolt surprises me which causes my eyes to close for a split second, and to steady myself, I accidentally move my feet back into their original position. The shot lands in the wall. Again. The disappointment on my face must be tangible from a mile away.

“Okay, I think I can fix this actually,” he says, and I sigh in defeat.

“Yeah I’m sure you can, super cop.”

Suddenly, as if the world is working against me, his much larger frame is pressed against my backside. Feeling his chest rise against my back and his hips grazing my ass, I breathe in a quick gasp. Completely enveloped in his scent, hard lines of muscle and heat practically radiating from him, it’s a miracle I don’t melt into a puddle right here on the concrete. His hands find my ear protection, removing the makeshift headphones from my ears, much to my confusion.

“The problem is,” he says, his breath tickling my ear, and I swear he can feel the shiver that runs down my spine, pooling in my panties. “You’re scared of it.”

“W-what?” I stutter, completely affected by his presence.

“You’re scared of the gun. The recoil scares you, and so does the sound of the shot,” he explains, voice barely above a whisper. “I think you’ll find the sound isn’t nearly as loud as you think.” His arms come up, fingers grazing along my skin which causes goosebumps to rise across my arms. He rests his hands right below my elbows, the warmth practically seeping into my bones. “Let me take the recoil. Just focus on keeping your eyes open.” His words send a wave of heat through my spine and I try and fail to not shift against him. His leg shifts forward, forcing my dominant leg into the position he recommended earlier, which presses his hips tighter against me. I almost topple over from the overwhelming sensation of heat from him mixed with his intoxicating scent filling my senses, and for a moment, my vision blurs and I squeeze my eyes shut to clear the sight. Like flipping a switch, his fingers graze my chin, lightly pressing against the edges of my jaw to get my attention.

“Leon, I can’t-”

“I believe I asked you to keep these open, sweetheart.” The agent’s voice is rough in against my ear, and I can feel the vibrations from his words rumble through his chest against my back. It feels like I peel my eyes back open as they beg to remain closed, and I attempt to get my focus on the target in front of me instead of the man behind me. “Now, squeeze the trigger.”

As I do, his hips move forward against me, and I release a gasp. Focusing on keeping my eyes open. The shot rings out, not nearly as loud as I assumed without the ear protection on. Exactly like Leon said. It makes contact with the paper, inches from the paper’s bullseye. My jaw drops at the sight. I actually hit the target.

“Good girl,” he mutters, arms dropping to rest against my waist tenderly. “Told you. You were focusing on it too much.” I feel my arms relax, pointing the barrel of the gun toward the counter as I attempt to turn around to face him, but his frame is like a brick wall.

“Leon,” I begin before another intake of air comes from my chest as Leon’s lips land on the soft skin of my neck. The reaction is immediate, my hips canting back toward him as I set the gun down.

“Nuh uh, baby. Pick that back up and finish unloading the whole clip,” he breathes into the column of my throat. “Want you to get used to this stance so you’re ready for your exam.” The light kisses quickly dissolve into small nips and bites, a moan tearing from my lips as my head lolls back, resting on his shoulder. He stops immediately.

“Leon wait-”

“I told you to finish firing the clip. It’s only 14 more shots. I think you can handle it.” A breath breaks from my chest as I lean forward, arms coming back up into the position Leon had put me in, although his hands remain on my hips this time. The gun goes off again with a bang once, twice, three times, landing in similar spots as the first shot, although they are definitely getting closer to the edge of acceptable. They are hitting the target though. As I squeeze the fourth shot, the man behind me pushes his hips forward again. “Stop thinking, sweetheart.”

“You know, if you wanted to fuck me, you could have just asked me to dinner.” The words come out much more breathy than intended, and I feel like I’m waving a neon sign that says ‘I want you to fuck me’. He chuckles lowly against me, his breath tickling my ear once again.

“I wasn’t sure how you’d take that,” he admits.

“But pushing your hips into me isn’t more forward than that?” I tease. Fifth shot. Only 9 more. He shrugs.

“I came up behind you to gauge the reaction before I did that though, didn’t I?”

“And what did my reaction tell you, Agent Kennedy?” My words are much softer now as if talking louder would shatter the mood of the room, which is alight with tension.

“That you want me to fuck you silly.” Sixth shot. “Did I read that right, rookie?”

Seventh shot. I nod gently, trying not to seem eager, despite the fact that my panties are practically ruined by this point, heat gathering in my lower belly and twisting.

“Leon, can we just-” His fingers skim over the waistline of my skirt, just barely dipping below it.

“No. Not until I know you’ll pass that recertification.” He’s gone back to nipping at my neck until he finds that patch of skin where my neck meets my shoulder. A moan leaves my lips unbidden, and I can practically feel his smirk against my skin. “Go on, sweetheart.”

Eighth shot. More than halfway done. His hand drops down further into my skirt until it’s grazing across the damp spot on my panties and I feel more than hear the low groan that he releases. “Fuck, baby.” My arms go lax as his fingers draw a single circle over my clit through the delicate lace before he moves to remove his hand altogether.

“Leon, no,” I protest as he presses his lips against my ear, intentionally using a low rumbling tone.

“Finish. Firing.” The command springs arms back up into position.

Ninth shot. Tenth shot. Eleventh shot.

“Doing so good, baby,” The praise goes straight through me, a wave of arousal leaking through the lace. Hands dropping back down to my clit, Leon pushes my panties to the side easily, swirling a finger through the wetness pooling there before bringing it up to press cruelly against my nerve endings. “Is all this for me, sweetheart?” Twelfth shot. I nod, lips pressed tightly together to muffle the squeaks and sounds attempting to leave my throat from his attention. Thirteenth shot. One more.

As I squeeze the trigger on the final shot, Leon’s fingers press into me harshly, hitting that sweet spongy part inside unintentionally and it causes a jolt in my limbs. The shot hits the wall with a pop. I hear a brief ‘tsk-tsk’ in my ear before he speaks.

“Reload.”

“But I-”

“I said, reload. You’re gonna do all fifteen again.” Dread takes over and I feel tears pool in my eyes in frustration, and Leon coos in my ear at the sight. “Oh, poor baby. You can do this.”

“Leon, please, I can’t. I need-” I gasp, setting down the gun on the counter being careful not to flag either of us. (cause gun safety is a thing).

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.” Cocky asshole.

“You.” The word is nothing but a plea.

“Aw, baby. How about I give you what you need, and then you fire off those fifteen shots? That sound like something you can do for me, pretty girl?” I nod eagerly against his shoulder before his hand is between my shoulder blades, pressing my chest to the chilly countertop.

“What about the door?” I ask, breathless and red in the face.

“I locked it when we came in here,” he mumbles as he grips the hem of my skirt and brings it up until he can see the damp lace covering me. Did he plan this? The question surfaces but before it can leave my mouth, my panties hit the floor around my ankles. “Fuck, I wanna taste you,” he whispers, more to himself than anything, but I groan in protest.

“Please just fuck me, Leon,” I practically beg, impatience leaking from my pores at this point.

“I don’t know babe, I’m kinda hungry,” he says, and I don’t need to turn around to know his signature smirk is plastered on his face.

“I will let you later, I promise. I need you right now. Inside.” His chest presses to my back, bringing his mouth close enough to hear him as he speaks.

“Later? You saying you want more than just this?” The clinking of his belt is audible over my heavy breathing because of course, I’m the only one out of breath. I nod. “I wanna hear it, sweetheart.”

“Yeah. I like you,” I start, arms splayed out flat over the top of the counter, fingers searching for purchase.

“Maybe we should get dinner after this then?” He asks, still smiling. I nod.

“Fucking finally,” I mutter and upon hearing this, Leon laughs. Not a deep chuckle, not a teasing sound, a real laugh. An almost embarrassed laugh. Hands finding my waist and giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“Took my time with it, didn’t I?” He asks, and I can hear the nerves in his tone. He’s embarrassed. Like, really truly embarrassed.

“Yeah, you sure di-” The words are cut off as he presses the head against my entrance, dipping the tip in for the briefest of seconds before pulling out and repeating the process. It feels like hours of this torture, his teasing thrusts and slight grazes over my clit before he finally, finally, slides in to the hilt, bottoming out in one stroke. We both release groans at the sensation of my walls molding to accommodate his length, twitching, and spasming as I tighten unconsciously.

“Holy shit, pretty girl, I wasn’t expecting you to be this tight,” he growls into my spine, hunched over my frame as he collects himself. When he does, he leans back, hands moving from my hips to grasp my shoulders, bringing my front away from the surface til I’m practically upright, his cock still nestled snuggly in my heat.

“What are you-”

“Now, reload the gun.” His tone sends a wave of slick down around his length, and he rumbles a groan against my collarbone.

“What-”

“I told you that you were gonna fire off those fifteen shots.” My hands shake as I grasp the glock in my hands, reloading and then trying and failing to return to my stance, so I opt to just position my arms correctly. “Good girl.”

My finger in place, I take a deep steadying breath squeezing. Leon pulls his hips back and slams back home as the shot rings out, and I stop a scream from ripping free as my hands fly back to the counter.

“Lee, you can’t just do that.” The words come out as more of a moan than actual words, the syllables slurring together like a girl who’s had one too many drinks.

“Yet you still hit the target,” he says proudly. I look up and notice that there are fifteen holes in the paper. Sixteen total shots were taken and only one missed. Shit if I had known this is how to get good at shooting, I would have asked sooner. “Come on. You got fourteen more, sweetheart.”

The other shots follow the same routine as the first.

Shot.

Thrust.

Praise.

By the time I’m on the last three shots, my whole body feels like it’s on fire, every inch covered in sweat from his punishing thrusts, tears dripping from my eyes.

“You are doing so good, baby. Three more.” He sounds as wrecked as I feel, voice gravelly against my pulse. His hands grip beneath my elbows again, pressing them back into the correct form. “You are so close.”

The bullet hits the paper with an audible pop. His cock slams back into me, tip hitting my cervix hard enough that I’m pretty sure it’ll be bruised. Broken moans fall from my dry lips, mouth feeling akin to sandpaper.

“Good job, baby. Two more.”

“Please just come for me Leon, I can’t anymore,” My arms droop, barely able to hold the weight of the gun that I’ve grown used to by this point.

“Come on, you can do this. It’s just two more shots. You are doing so well,” he reassures before sinking his teeth into my skin, leaving a plethora of bruises and marks across the tender flesh.

“What if I miss?” I ask, anxiety poking through, mind locked on how he stopped last time.

“I won’t stop this time. You’ve more than made up for the shot you missed earlier.” I sigh in relief. Forcing my arms back up, I try to steady myself before Leon’s fingers find my clit and I squeal, completely losing my aim due to the tight circles he’s rubbing. “Take the shot, baby.”

I fire, bullet catching the edge of the bullseye and I feel a swell of pride before Leon presses a deep thrust accompanied by a swirl on my clit, and his name spills from my lips as a plea.

“Please come for me, please.”

“Tell you what, if you get a bullseye, then I’ll cream this little pussy, how’s that sound, baby?” The pace of his fingers doesn’t change, and I can really only nod, mind barely able to remember why we were in here in the first place.

Taking aim. Deep breath. Squeeze.

The bullet lands dead in the middle of the red target. I practically drop the gun from my fingers, relief overtaking my senses.

“Atta girl,” Leon groans, pressing my frame onto the counter as he picks up speed to a fast pace, leaning down to crowd against me. My fingers reach up behind me, bent at the elbows, to cling to his hair that grazes against my temple as my eyes squeeze shut. His name is a broken sound coming from my lips as the coil in my gut tightens with each twirl of his fingers and each pass of his tip against my sweet spot. “Open your eyes when you come for me, rookie.”

Most of his words are just a jumble as the coil snaps and a scream rips from my already sore throat, but I can make out a ‘good girl’ and ‘creaming my cock so good, gorgeous’ here and there through the haze of my orgasm. It takes a few more thrusts before Leon groans and curses, lips pressed to my spine as he spills himself inside my still-spasming hole.

It takes a few moments for us to move again, deep breaths the only audible sound in the silent room. He’s the first to move (him and his damn stamina), sitting up to stand before slowly pulling his length out, watching as his seed trickles out slowly and groaning at the sight. Leon reaches down, pulling my panties back up and adjusting them into place tenderly, mindful of the soreness he had no doubt was blooming. With a small tug and some slight wobbling on my end, Leon helps me into a standing position facing him now, small of my back barely resting against the edge of the counter as his hands hold me steady.

“You alright?” He asks, and I giggle and smile in response, leaning my face forward into his shoulder. He chuckles to himself, pressing a kiss to my hair. “I mean it, you okay?”

“Mhm. I’m good. You owe me dinner though.”

“Of course, need me to carry you?” I nod through a wave of sleepiness.

“Wait,” I say, hands on his chest as he looks at me, blue eyes shining with concern. “Can you kiss me?” I ask, shyness returning full force, and he laughs again. In favor of answering, he leans forward, pressing his lips against mine in a sweet, tender kiss. His lips are dry, as evidence of our exertion. We pull back from the kiss with dumb smiles decorating our faces, and he pulls my skirt down to cover my panties, planting another quick kiss on my mouth.

“So where do you want to go to eat?”

I step out into the hallway, flat shoes making far less noise than my usual heels. Leon looks at me expectantly.

“So?” I skip up to him, lips finding his as my arms wrap around his broad shoulders. Pulling back, I shoot him a smile before speaking.

“Guess who just passed her firearm recertification with flying colors?” I tease.

“Nice! See? I told you, cakewalk.”

Tags: @house-of-kolchek

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy smut

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 7 months ago

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taking what's not yours - f. castle & m. murdock

a/n: ALRIGHT ITS FINALLY DONE uhhh sorry this has no smut i was just goofing and wanted to write something cute with our two favorites and you guys seemed to really want this one so! i have no regrets actually! im gonna go take a nap now warnings: polyamorous relationships, frank has nightmares, reader is autistic, reader has an oral fixation/biting problem, nosebleeds/blood, crying, cursing, lots of cute nicknames, talks of death, some sexual comments, lots of kissing and fluff word count: 3.2k comments and feedback are always appreciated <3 summary: a week in the life of a relationship with frank castle and matt murdock, your two favorite vigilantes. pairing: frank castle x autistic!gn!reader x matt murdock now playing: taking what's not yours - tv girl "you know where to find me/and i know where to look"

Soft country music from before country music as a genre went modern and became what it is today plays from the radio Frank insists on keeping on while he cooks dinner. His flannel is tight around his chest and the sleeves are rolled up as he brings a spoon to his mouth, tasting the sauce he’s been preparing for the past few hours. He adds more pepper.

The door opens from across the apartment, and all he hears is, “Frank! Tell Matt to stop being mean to me!” You and Matt make your way through the apartment after taking off your shoes and coats, Matt loosening his tie as he follows you into the kitchen. Frank turns when you step into the kitchen, immediately moving over to him and finding your place in the crook of his arm.

“Red bein’ mean to you, honey?” Frank asks as he kisses the top of your head, grinning at Matt as he huffs, standing with his hands on his hips.

“Yeah, it doesn’t matter if it’s handsome if he’s so mean, does it?” You ask.

“No, it doesn’t,” He grins, and you stick your tongue out to Matt playfully, and he mimics you before going over to Frank and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Hi.” The lawyer hums, happy to be back home with his two favorite people.

“Hi.” Frank grins, unsure of how serious you are about Matt being mean to him. “What’s going on, why are you being mean?” Matt raises an eyebrow at you, unhappy with your running to Frank.

“Can’t just run to daddy to fix your problems, pup.” He accuses, and you scoff. His words are playful, but your face is red at the call out.

“You know what, Murdock—”

“Hey! Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Frank cuts in, and Matt tilts his head in your direction, and you quietly plead for Matt not to tell on you, and--

“They bit me.” Frank sighs at his words.

“I was being affectionate!” You immediately go into defense mode, ducking out of Frank’s arm, trying to casually walk off from the pair towards the fridge, only for Matt to grab your arm, pulling you between the two men, your back against Frank’s chest, face to face with Matt.

“You cannot bite people, pup.” Matt says, and you frown.

“I like biting people—”

“That’s a problem!” Frank’s words attempt to be serious, but they’re coated by a soft laugh as his hands, rough from a long day of working blue collar, rub up and down your arms.

“See? You’re getting Frank to agree with me, do you know how hard that is to do?” Matt hums, and you tilt your head.

“What? You love Frank, it’s actually kind of gross—”

“It is gross isn’t it?” Matt asks teasingly, leaning up to kiss Frank again. You roll your eyes at the fact that you’re being reprimanded by your boyfriends, sandwiched between them, forced to deal with the consequences of your actions. “But I’m being serious, okay?”

“Matty,” Your head leans back against Frank’s chest, “I don’t bite anyone who isn’t you or Frank..”

Alright, let’s level with each other—Frank and Matt are well aware of the fact that you’re neurodivergent. You get overstimulated with loud, crowded situations very easily, you struggle to understand jokes a lot, and you once told them that in middle school, you became so hyper fixated on waffles to the point where you ate them for breakfast and lunch most days, practically begging your mom to let you have it for dinner most nights (She let you have them once a month) and then, after fourteenth months, you stopped. You have not been able to eat a waffle since.

The point is the two men you’re sandwiched between are no strangers to your neurodivergence. They know it’s stimulating in the best way to chew or suck on something, your oral fixation coming back with a vengeance after you tried to repress it for so long. You chew on everything. You chew on the strands of your hoodies, you chew on your sleeves, you chew on ice, gum, you chew on your boyfriends, and you chew on your cheeks to the point where you draw blood, which always gets Matt to scold you, because he can smell the coppery blood from his place across the room, and immediately tells Frank.

Matt Murdock is a little tattletale.

“We’ll figure it out, okay?” Frank hums, resting his chin on your shoulder. “We’ll get you something to chew on—”

“What, like a chew toy? That’s embarrassing,” you groan, and Matt just laughs a bit, leaning in to oppress a kiss to the shoulder that Frank is not leaning on.

“Then stop biting, pup.”

You pause, contemplating the options you have. Fix your biting issue or have Matt and Frank fix it for you. Honestly, you don’t think you have the neurotypical willpower to fix this problem, so you go,

“Okay, fine. You guys have my permission to do what you want to fix it.” You huff. Frank presses a kiss to your cheek while Matt presses a kiss to the other. You feel the smirks against your skin, and you realize what’s happening before you can run, “Wait, no, I swear to god—” Matt picks up your legs with ease as Frank secures his arms around your torso, the pair beginning to carry you to the couch. You groan as they throw you onto the leather couch, landing with a huff. “You’re both awful.”

Matt leans down and bites your shoulder.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it?”

“Jokes on you, Daredevil, I’m into that—” You feel Frank sink his teeth into your arm.

“Wrong answer.” Matt responds for him.

Later that night, after dinner, you’re laying against Matt, your legs resting in Frank’s lap. You’re listening to music, and the environment is very relaxed, none of you are particularly on edge. Matt’s fingers are resting in your mouth. You relax like this a lot, just sucking his fingers gently. You’re absentmindedly just sucking on his fingers when you bite down on them—It’s not an accident, and Matt would call you out on it if you lied.

So when you bite down, not entirely consciously, he huffs, “With the biting, baby, come on,” he softly condemns, and remembering your deal, Frank gets up with a sigh, patting your leg before he got up and headed to the kitchen. You’re confused for a second before Matt’s nose twitches with recognition, so he grabs your shoulder and pulls you close, his hand finding your cheeks and squeezing your mouth so that it’s in an ‘o’ shape.

Frank approaches you with a spoon and a jar of peanut butter, and your eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, and the rest of your features are squished by Matt’s hands. Frank scoops a big wad of peanut butter onto the spoon before sticking it in your mouth. You’re confused, as Matt’s hand leaves your face, as you begin munching on the peanut butter.

You take a while to eat the peanut butter, quietly enjoying the taste while enjoying how long you’re keeping yourself busy, since it’s taking a long time to work down the peanut butter due to how sticky it is in the roof of your mouth. When you’re done licking and enjoying the taste of the peanut butter, you look to Frank.

“What was that for?”

“Well, it kept you busy from biting, didn’t it?” He grinned. Your face is flushed as you hand him the spoon.

“Can I have some more?”

Frank chuckles and kisses you quick.

“Sure, honey.”

A few nights later, Frank sits on the couch of the apartment, the windows open wide as he listens to the howling wind outside. He’s waiting. Waiting for what, he doesn’t know. His skin is still hot, trying to relax after waking up from a nightmare. It’s always the same. Maria and his children, always dying in his arms. Always sitting at the kitchen table, always with you and Matt, always dead.

The chill that comes in from the window is enough to make him feel alive through as he quietly waits for Matt to get back. He’s in an old tee shirt and sweatpants, flicking his lighter on and off in the quiet as he tries to focus on something that isn’t the idea of the pair of you dead, dead like his wife, dead like his kids, dead dead dead—

“Frank? What are you doing up?” Matt’s soft voice echoes through the apartment, and his head tilts softly. He goes over to the couch, still in his full Daredevil suit. Frank stands up and goes over to him by the window, pulling off his cowl just to look at his face. His hand lands gently on Matt’s face, his thumb rubbing gently on the scars that surround Matt’s eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Matt catches the lie and does not call him out.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Frank’s jaw hardens, and even though Matt cannot see, he avoids his gaze. And in a moment of pure vulnerability, he wraps his arms around Matt, holding him close. Matt’s hand gently runs up and down his spine, trying to comfort him. After a few moments of quiet, he asks, “Do you want me to wake them up?” You were always better at making people feel better than Matt was—Especially Frank.

“Nah.. No point..” He says quietly. After a few more minutes of quiet, he feels another pair of arms wrap around him from behind, your chest against his back. You press soft kisses onto the back of his shoulders.

“Too late.” Matt hums. You’re wearing an old tee shirt of Frank’s, a pair of boxers you bought for yourself and a pair of Matt’s fuzzy socks. You stay there for a little while, sleepily hugging Frank, comforting him. Your eyes grow heavy, and slowly, you fall asleep against him, just for a moment. Then, Frank picks you up, and you wake up again, tired.

“What? What’s going on?” You ask him, and he just smiles down to you.

“We’re gonna go to bed while Red showers, and he’ll be right back.” He tells you, gently placing you on the bed. You yawn as Frank crawls into bed, and you find yourself on top of him, your legs tangled with his. You listen to Matt shower and fall asleep waiting for him to come join you.

He comes back out with his hair wet, in just his sweatpants. He tucks himself into bed, his arms around Frank, as you sprawl out on top of them, desperately needing to be close to both. Frank is nowhere near tired. Matt knows that, and just gently kisses his hair and the back of his neck.

“You need sleep.”

“You ain’t the boss of me, red.” He grumbles, and you hush them harshly, causing them to both laugh a little bit. Matt slowly falls asleep, trying to stay awake to comfort Frank, but he’s spent his entire night beating the shit out of goons and criminals, so he’s absolutely spent. Frank tilts his head and presses another kiss to his lips. “Go to bed, I’ll be okay.” Matt wants to protest but he just buries his face in the crook of his neck.

Frank’s hands gently trail your torso a bit. His hands are rough and sort of cold, but they just explore your back as he attempts to find sleep. It’s a fruitless venture, but he doesn’t mind. He’s okay with just listening to the pair of you breathing.

“Are you two wearing my flannels?” Frank has about seven flannels, and he has four in the wash and one that has a tear waiting to be fixed, so he’s looking for his spare two when he finds you painting Matt’s nails on the floor of the apartment. You’re painting Matt’s nails a nice shade of dark red, with little hearts in a lighter pink.

That had taken a lot of convincing, really, but once you had agreed not to bite him all day, he reluctantly agrees to let you paint his nails, desperately wanting to be good at something and be focused on one thing for more than twenty minutes.

Periodically, Matt’s foot will tap against your back, reminding you to adjust your posture as you work on your masterpiece. He just got done with a big court case, so he tells you he’ll maintain your artwork for at least a few days. But yeah, you two are most definitely wearing Frank’s last two flannels.

“They’re comfy,” You defend, focusing on your work. Matt’s foot taps against your tailbone to remind you to straighten your back.

Really, Frank doesn’t mind. But he enjoys fucking with the two of you, so he just smirks and sits behind the pair of you. ‘

“But they’re my clothes—”

“Well, you should have thought about that before you left them out, Frank.” Matt smirks, knowing exactly what he’s up to.

“Besides, look how good Matt looks in your clothes!” You hum, leaning over to nudge him gently, a grin on your face. You finish up Matt’s nails, capping up the nail polish as Matt begins gently blowing in his nails to get them to dry faster. Then, you wipe your nose, thinking it’s running, and when you pull away, you see a swipe of blood on Frank’s warm flannel. Oh, fuck.

With his slightly wet nails, Matt’s movements are not nearly as quick as he would have liked as he smells the blood before the gushing really starts, ripping off a paper towel and quickly holding it under your nose, and you take it from him to hold it there as he stands up, going to get something softer like a tissue or toilet paper to pack your nose—

You hold the paper towel to your nose, and guilt already starts to eat at you, as hot tears fill your eyes and then you feel silly because you think Frank might think you’re overreacting, but you just find his hands on your shoulders as he says,

“Hey, hey, why are we crying?” And you feel even sillier.

“I ruined your flannel.”

Frank had been covered in blood more times than he could count, as has Matt—their bodies are riddled with scars, head to toe, bullet and stab wounds echoing over the rough skin of both men, mostly faded now, but Frank is no stranger to blood—It doesn’t even bother him anymore, and Matt can’t see anyways, so what does he care about the sight of blood?

But you, who cannot kill the bugs that find their ways into your apartment, who gasps and covers their mouth when you accidentally curse in church (Matt always laughs, the dick), who orders the same lunch every day and has been unable to drink anything that wasn’t ice water, are horrified at a swipe of blood on a stolen flannel.

“Oh, no, honey, you didn’t ruin anything,” He shakes his head, and gently tugs at the flannel that hangs on your arms, “Come on, let me get this off,” The Punisher’s voice is gentle, a type of gentle reserved just for you, one that the countless skeletons in his closet, all with a bullet in their skulls, do not know and could not possibly perceive. You allow him to slip the flannel off, as Matt comes back with a rolled-up tissue, before sitting in front of you, kneeling as if he’s at mass—

“Lean your head forward for me,” he asks, his hand on the side of your head, and you do, taking the paper towel away, just for Matt to gently push that bundled up piece of tissue into your nose, to get it to stop bleeding.

Your boys, they are experts at getting things to stop bleeding.

At least Matt’s nails look really nice.

Frank throws the flannel in the wash, along with the rest of your laundry, and you find yourself sandwiched between them, the perfect amount of squeezing happening on either side of you, the same affect a weighted blanket would have on you. Your hot tears roll still, quietly betraying you, as the pads of Frank’s rough fingers come up to wipe them away, and Matt’s thumb finds it’s place sitting between your lips.

You sit like this for a while—Frank pressed up against you, Matt in his flannel and you, gushing blood from your nose, packed tight with tissues, and Matt’s thumb as your favorite stim toy.

A few days later, you’re just decompressing from work—Your bones ache, and you’re waiting for Matt to get home, wanting to satisfy that oral fixation, as if it’s the worst craving you’ve ever had. Sensing your restlessness, Frank puts a small package in front of you. You raise your eyebrow, and look at him, skeptical.

“Is it a bomb?” He scoffs and chuckles a bit.

“Open the damn package.” His voice is laced with the smirk that sits on his face, not mad, not upset, not at all judging. Your fingers peel back the packaging, and when you’re done unwrapping, you’re left with a soft necklace, and a blue, rubber moon. You look to him curiously. “It’s uh,” he leans down so his forearms are keeping him up against the counter. “You chew on it. You’re not gonna stop bitin’ or sucking on stuff, so, you might as well bite something that isn’t human.” He tells you.

In truth, Frank had spent all damn day scrolling on your laptop, looking for the perfect fix to your problem, and grew frustrated when he realized that all the stim toys were marketed towards young boys who had the privilege of getting a diagnosis young (living with and loving two people with disabilities, as well as having horrible PTSD, has radicalized Frank Castle).

You grin when you hear his explanation, getting up and going to him, resting your hands on his shoulders before leaning up and kissing him softly.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Honey.”

From across the apartment, you hear the door open, and a voice calls out,

“Are you guys cheating on me? You know I can hear you across the apartment, right?” Matt’s voice calls out, and you laugh, as Frank just smiles.

“Yes, I can, Red,” He says back, before leaning in to kiss you again.

Your eyes are heavy with sleep as you spot Matt, laying across the couch, looking like a god damn renaissance painting. He’s so hot. You find yourself walking over to him, dropping your new necklace on the coffee table, as you climb on top of him, finding yourself literally acting like a blanket, burying your face in his neck as his hand comes up to, like usual, let you gently suck on his fingers.

Frank rolls his eyes when he sees the pair of you cuddling, and just shakes his head when he sees the stim toy abandoned on the table. He takes out his phone and takes a picture of the pair of you, Matt just in his briefs, and you in your entire pajama ensemble.

The apartment is full of a gentle silence, as Frank watches the pair of you sleep, quietly thankful that he kept living.

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brucebocchi · 28 days ago

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Summer 2024 anime roundup: ALL IN ONE

hey! i also post these reviews on my ko-fi. this is a labor of love so if you like the stuff i write, i'd really appreciate it if you'd throw a few bucks my way. thanks!

Well, I'm much busier now than I was in the first half of the year, so that means less time for anime and less time for writing about it. I managed to watch only (ONLY?) nine shows this season, so might as well put it all in one post.

As always, each show's OP is linked in the title.

Let's jump in.

Returning anime

NieR: Automata Ver. 1.1a, part 2

After a COVID-plagued production delayed the last few episodes of its first half last year, A-1 Pictures’ adaptation of Yoko Taro’s landmark action-RPG returns to deliver the real meat of the story. And as with the game, the first half of NieR: Automata Ver. 1.1a was something I’d classify as “pretty good!,” while the remainder is what makes the entire endeavor worthwhile.

I’m happy to report that not only did the studio not lose a step, but they improved on the presentation of Ver. 1.1a immensely. The action sequences are superb and expressive throughout, and the CGI integration is actually, y’know, integrated this time out. The score, both original and borrowed from Keiichi Okabe’s contributions to the NieR duology, remains as evocative as ever. They also ramped up the cheesecake more than a little bit, and let’s be real, that was the draw for a lot of people in the first place.

If there’s any one thing Ver. 1.1a can claim as an advantage over the game’s narrative, it’s that the former does a lot more work in building on A2 as a character. There’s just enough to chew on in the game, but having more of her backstory from the YoRHa stage play and manga adaptation integrated into the narrative makes for more of a meal. Having A2’s history and real personality pinned up as a backdrop as she struggles to suppress both really fleshes out her journey and eventual resolve as shit continues to hit the fan. She’s also just a big ol’ tsundere sometimes. And not for nothing, but they gave her an absolute DUMPY for no reason, but I can’t really pin that as a negative.

9S’ whole thing happens too. I really don’t have much to add to that.

When I reviewed this show’s first half at the end of 2023, I mentioned that the initial concern with the anime’s very existence is that it’s adapting a narrative that is functionally being told through the very fact that it’s a video game. The delivery of the game’s true ending, especially, is so innately A Video Game that it’s functionally impossible to adapt directly into a television show. I’m happy to say that although that function is lost, Ver. 1.1a’s ending is still plenty satisfying (and I’m told especially so for Drakengard fans, without giving too much away). Something is still very much lost in the transition, though. In his review of the penultimate episode, Anime News Network’s James Beckett wrote:

What the anime of NieR:Automata has not been able to capture in these critical final moments is the way that the game makes its players complicit in the tragedy in a way that they could never be if they simply sat down and passively watched these events unfold from behind the safe veil of the fourth wall. It would be like if we were each individually guided on stage to place our hands on Hamlet's shoulder and push him gently onwards to his final destination. It doesn't change anything about what happens in the story, but it changes everything about what it means to us.

These acts of “ludonarrative culpability,” as Beckett called it, are the reason why Yoko Taro is considered an auteur in the gaming sphere. Both NieR games are tragedies writ large, and Yoko’s genius lies in making you, the player, carry out the tragedy, often well before you realize what you’ve wrought. And to Beckett’s point from his review, NieR: Automata is a perfectly fine sci-fi story in its own right, but the game puts the blood squarely on the player’s hands and inserts them into the narrative in a way that simply watching cannot. The connection I felt to the story was only there because I’d already played the game myself; I can only imagine how it would feel if this was your introduction to NieR.

So to return to a question I suggested at the end of last year: Do I recommend this to people who haven’t played the game? Eh, not particularly. It’s a well-made show, to be sure, but there’s enough missing from what makes Automata such an exceptional game that I’m not sure I can recommend it wholeheartedly if you’re not already familiar. Then again, I wouldn’t really know how it reads from the other side. To those who know and love the game, Ver. 1.1a isn’t quite the “Rebuild of NieR” some were hoping it to be, but it’s an interesting companion piece that takes surprising strides to tie it even closer to the preceding franchise. If you’re a newcomer? YMMV. Either way, play the game.

Oshi no Ko, season 2

I spent far more time than was necessary in the Discourse Mines following Oshi no Ko’s thunderous debut last year and a controversial (but fortunately inconsequential) turn of events in the manga shortly after the season finale. Though I remain one of the series’ foremost glazers, I’ve had my moments where I worried that maybe I overrated it a bit in my head, that I carried too much water for writer Aka Akasaka, and that I’m still riding the high of the series’ premiere.

Oshi no Ko’s second season completely erased any lingering worry almost immediately and reminded me and the world that yes, it Really Is That Good. The “It’s So Over” switch flipped to “We Are So Back” as soon as best girl Kana Arima and co-lead Taiki Himekawa dazzled their co-stars and one another with literally colorful displays of their acting prowesses. My expectations continued to rise as an active reader of the source material, and studio Doga Kobo continued to surpass them. This adaptation is just that good.

Aqua’s quest for revenge and Akasaka’s continuing examination of Japan’s entertainment industry both lead us into the world of stage acting, specifically 2.5D adaptations of famous manga and anime. Aqua is cast alongside Kana and his sham girlfriend and former reality show co-star Akane in an adaptation of the fictional smash hit shonen manga Tokyo Blade, along with several members of a theater company to which Ai once belonged. While Aqua is more concerned with getting dirt on Ai’s background than he is with acting, Kana and Akane have much more personal stakes as they try to show one another up and still put on the best play they can. Kana can’t stand Akane’s absolutist, matter-of-fact approach to acting (nor the fact that she’s fake-dating the guy for whom Kana’s down abysmal), while Akane, who idolized Kana as a child and is disappointed to see her take a step back as an actress, is trying her damnedest to rekindle the spark that convinced her to pick up acting in the first place. On the fringes, rookie actor Melt Narushima is trying to make up for a heinous performance in the first season that earned him the scorn of his more experienced castmates as well as a mangaka’s permanent ire.

A good amount of this arc does feel like Akasaka was still sorting through his feelings about the Kaguya-sama live adaptation when he wrote it, but he also gave himself some room for reflection on his own side of the equation as a mangaka. Tokyo Blade’s creator, Abiko Samejima, holds her creation very dear and is not impressed with the script. Her friend and former boss, Yoriko Kichijouji, is entirely too familiar with how badly the process can go; her own manga, Sweet Today, was horribly botched in this show’s first season, and she wants to help Abiko-sensei keep a level head. Kichijouji-sensei is the voice of reason this time out as she points out all of the concessions creators may need to take in order to get their work adapted and the unimpeachable truth that mangaka are basically crazy people (and you can practically hear Akasaka screaming through her lines; four months after Kichijouji said this in the manga, Kaguya-sama published its final chapter, marking Akasaka’s retirement from illustrating serialized manga). At her urging, in addition to an all-nighter helping Abiko-sensei make a deadline, the play goes off without any more hitches.

I didn’t much care for the Tokyo Blade arc in the manga but I knew full well that it would translate well to anime just as well as the acting sequences in the first season had. Akasaka’s decision to have the actors treat the stage as a battleground felt a little silly on the page, but experiencing everything again in sound and motion reminded me that this was the same genre of psychological competition that made Kaguya-sama one of my all-time favorites. Doga Kobo is just stupidly good at adapting manga. God, the animation is incredible. Character animation is as deliberate and mesmerizing as always, and emotional moments are punctuated by interpretive splashes of watercolors. Melt’s breakout on stage was a standout moment in the manga, but the abstract, expressionistic depiction of his redemption was so perfectly conceived on screen that life imitated art: Kichijouji-sensei cried in the anime, and manga artist Mengo Yokoyari cried in real life.

I could go on and on and on, but if you’re already this deep into Oshi no Ko I really don’t need to tell you anything else. This season, for all its gorgeous visuals and onstage glory, does not hesitate to remind you at the worst possible moments that this is still ultimately a revenge story and pulls the rug from you just as gleefully as it dazzles. The first season was already exceptional, but the second cements Oshi no Ko as an all-time great adaptation. As a fan of the manga, this is as good of an anime as I could ask for, and then some.

Mixed Bags

My Deer Friend Nokotan

I’m just exhausted.

I’ll admit, I bit a little too hard on the marketing. The preview trailers promised madcap, nonsensical fun on the level of Nichijou or Asobi Asobase, the cast was exceptional, and the OP’s refrain was a total earworm (Shikanoko Nokonoko Koshitantan! Shikanoko Nokonoko Koshitantan! Shikanoko Nokonoko Koshitantan!). It even has the cast jumping in the air! And we all know the Ryo Yamada rule! This was going to set the bar for gag anime!

Oh, how little I knew. Y’know how sometimes you see a trailer for a middling comedy movie and you can tell they already gave away all of the movie’s best jokes? Turns out My Deer Friend Nokotan did just that. I did temper my expectations; it’s not like I thought this was going to be the second coming of Nichijou or anything, but I guess I was still expecting something, I dunno, funnier?

The premise seemed to lend itself to a good comedy either way: Torako Koshi, a former delinquent, has successfully expunged her prior reputation and worked her way up to becoming her school’s student council president. All of that is nearly thrown away when a bizarre new student, Noko Shikanoko, immediately clocks her and almost spills the beans. Also, Shikanoko (who prefers to be addressed as Nokotan) has antlers and can commune with deer. She may even be a deer herself. She hoodwinks Koshi into starting a Deer Club at school, where they recruit Koshi’s upsetting younger sister Anko and the languid, rice-obsessed Bashame. Allegedly, shenanigans ensue.

Take this with a grain of salt, as humor is very subjective, but this show just plain isn’t very funny. Nokotan’s gags hit at least as often as they miss, and a lot of them just feel unforgivably dull. One bad segment can feel like an entire episode. The only reliable gags are gross-out humor, outsized slow-motion violence, or Nausicaä references. Everything else is just Koshi barging into the lower third of the screen to shout about how wacky the joke was just then.

Look, I know that humor doesn’t always translate across cultures. The things I don’t understand about Japanese humor could fill several libraries. I do, at the very least, get the basics of the boke/tsukkomi dynamic (fool and straight-man, basically) and how the reaction to a silly thing is usually the real punchline. I’ve absorbed enough Japanese media to adapt to that momentum. That nearly goes out the window here, because Koshi’s role as the tsukkomi is a straight-up momentum killer. It’s rarely just a “wait, what?!” or a “yeah, that’s rich coming from you;” it’s usually more like “wait, that is so ridiculous! You couldn’t possibly have pulled that off! And what’s that you’re wearing all of a sudden?” The rhythm is just gone. Comic timing? Don’t know her. Even if I thought the joke was funny at first, you could probably see any semblance of a smirk fading off my face by the time she was done. And hey, maybe some of this stuff doesn’t translate. Maybe it’s not that funny in Japan either.

The other characters outside of our main two really don’t help. Anko’s whole “yandere siscon” act isn’t very funny to start with, and she brings nothing to the table otherwise. Bashame is such a nothing character that even Koshi was sick of her by the end of the season. And while I feel like a good narrator can add a good level of je ne sais quoi to a comedy anime (see: Kaguya-sama), an overly intrusive one can actively take away from the humor (see: the Kaguya-sama dub). Nokotan’s narrator comes at it with a sort of winking, nudging “HEY, WE’RE A GAG ANIME” energy that gets too grating, too quickly. What doesn’t help is that he eventually affects a fake-desperate “please watch this show and tell your friends!” bent that called to mind Ron Howard’s narration in Arrested Development’s third season as it was approaching cancellation. Meta humor, as in the latter, can absolutely elevate the level of comedy; 100 Girlfriends in particular wielded it like a machete. In Nokotan, on the other hand, it betrays a clear lack of confidence in the writing, and there’s nothing less funny than comedy that doesn’t even believe in itself.

It’s not all awful, I swear. There are genuinely some very good gags; Nokotan’s cat-and-mouse game with an anachronistic matagi was a blast from beginning to end, and the skin-suit gag got a bigger laugh out of me than almost anything else I saw this season. Any good anime, especially a comedy, lives and dies by its voice cast, and Megumi Han’s performance as the titular Nokotan is this show’s whirring, beeping life support. She makes the absolute most of her considerable range as the jokes call for it, while somehow never stepping on her own toes by dipping into her Kana Arima voice from Oshi no Ko. Koshi shares a VA with Hatsune goddamn Miku. Bashame is pretty much only tolerable thanks to the languid performance of relative newcomer Fuuka Izumi, whom I’m very glad to hear in something that isn’t Gushing Over Magical Girls.

And aside from the music (the OP, to be fair, is infectious), that’s about all there is to like about the production. Did Studio WIT really make this? It looks like it could’ve been made by anybody, and that’s not a compliment. The uncanny CGI deer were the only real visual standout, and even those lost their shine before long. Something attempting to be this audacious needs to have a look to match, and Nokotan falls flat. Again, maybe that’s on me for trying to hold it to the standard Nichijou set.

I’d honestly be surprised if this gets picked up for another season. I’d be hard-pressed to come back for more.

No Longer Allowed in Another World

(CONTENT WARNING for discussion of suicide)

Osamu Dazai was one of the most complex and fascinating figures in Japan’s modern literary canon, right up there with his ideological opposite and real-life rival, Yukio Mishima. Dazai was, frankly, a disaster. He was a serial womanizer, terrible with money, repeatedly disowned by his family, unemployable, a deadbeat dad, and hopelessly addicted to drugs and booze. His magnum opus, Ningen Shikkaku, or No Longer Human, is a stark semi-autobiography, just barely fictionalizing his repeated failures of dignity and self-preservation, including his several failed attempts at double-suicide with his many illicit lovers. The same year it was published, however, Dazai was successful in his final attempt, drowning himself alongside his mistress in 1948.

But like, what if he got hit by the isekai truck instead?

Isekai Shikkaku, or No Longer Allowed in Another World, fully Goes There. The series begins with the legally distinct, unnamed Sensei and his lover Sacchan blindsided by an anachronistic truck along the riverbed. Sensei comes to, alone, in a monastery inspired by the JRPGs from well after his time. He doesn’t know what’s going on and he doesn’t care. All that matters is that he’s still alive, and that sucks for him. Sensei is greeted by Annette, an elf priestess in a virgin killer sweater, who is shocked to discover that not only has he not gained a single stat boost by coming to this world, but he’d also rather kill himself than take her up on the standard offer of an OP cheat skill (and he’d also just rather kill himself in general). So he bounces to go find Sacchan. His refreshing outlook on the new world, as opposed to the other excitable losers who got isekai’d before him, completely melts Annette’s brain to the point of falling in love with him on the spot, so she dons her sluttiest Persona 3 battle armor to chase after him.

Sensei hates this shit. Contemporary western fantasy hadn’t made its way to Japan yet in his time, so he has zero point of reference in this world, and he sure as shit has no clue what a JRPG is. The level-up jingles give him migraines. He has no self-preservation instincts and the only solace he has in this strange new world is a jar of toxic sleeping pills that he munches like M&Ms. He has no interest in or aptitude for fighting, so when he encounters a big-tiddy catgirl being squeezed half to death by a walking tree’s branches, Sensei sees the perfect opportunity to get himself killed. Unfortunately, his blood has become so toxic from said pills that piercing his skin instantly kills the tree, saving the young lady he incorrectly names Tama. Much to Annette’s consternation, she joins the party, and they set out on Sensei’s quest to find his lover and finally die in peace.

As you can guess, that’s not what happens. For some time, we see Sensei throwing himself in harm’s way, floridly imploring various fantasy monsters to kill him in one shot with their big bats, to the point where they get creeped out. His vaguely-threatening exhortations for death make for a fine formula, but one that can wear thin quickly. Before it gets that chance, though, the seed planted in Annette’s introduction bears fruit: The visitors to this world from our own aren’t here in isolation, and they have succeeded in completing the usual isekai goal of overthrowing the demon king. There’s now a massive power vacuum, and nature abhors that shit, so a cabal of erstwhile isekai protags dub themselves the Fallen Angels and decide to take over.

This turn was, to put it bluntly, the main thing that kept me watching. There’s a fine bit of commentary inherent to this framing that the type of wet-noodle, borderline faceless self-insert isekai protags tend to appeal to antisocial losers who would rather give into their basest impulses than see an opportunity to actually better themselves. This is not at all lost on Sensei; his keen eye for the human condition leads him to interrogate the Fallen Angels his party encounters so that he can write about their own failures as humans, as well as the gaping voids in their previous lives that led to them acting like petty tyrants as soon as they gained a bit of power and treating a brand new world like their own personal playground. Sensei’s writings reveal that he did indeed gain a power when he came over to this world; if he sees fit, a finished book will surround its subject and reanimate them back in their original world and afford them a second chance to right their wrongs or, in one particularly moving case, start over on the right foot.

For as audacious as No Longer Allowed’s premise is and as impeccable its comic timing and voice cast (you will find some absolute heaters completely buried on the call list), I just didn’t find it all that compelling. Isekai as a genre is so oversaturated that it was old hat to call it oversaturated even five years ago, so while I do try to pan for gold, sometimes I just come up with a neat-looking river stone. Hell, I can’t even say this one’s all that neat-looking; there’s nothing that looks all that great about it to begin with. The character designs and backdrops are pretty standard JRPG-style stuff that you’re just as likely to find in the likes of Helck, with lackluster animation to match. Didn’t care too much for most of the characters either. Even for its commentary on the isekai genre and the type of person it caters to, No Longer Allowed just ends up shaking out like another isekai series.

There’s clearly more at play here, and I might just go ahead and read the manga because I didn’t really find myself looking forward to watching the anime. Maybe it just didn’t translate well. No Longer Allowed in Another World does clearly have something to say under its silly premise, but its method of getting that message across is, ironically, buried underneath the usual trappings of the genre it’s trying to say something about.

Wistoria: Wand and Sword

I’m gonna preface this by saying that Wistoria is probably the best anime I watched this year that I’ve classified as a “Mixed Bag,” save for Jellyfish Can’t Swim in the Night. I’m generally of the mind that excellent production can make up for a middling story (my enjoyment of the likes of Solo Leveling and Wind Breaker this year was pretty emblematic of that), and that is the case here for the most part. Wistoria, story-wise, is nothing special; it’s your standard power fantasy set in a magical school, but the entire presentation is just almost fascinating enough to overcome that hurdle.

Hell, it’s almost not even worth going over the plot. Unassuming boy named Will goes to a magic academy, he doesn’t have any magical aptitude, so he makes up for it by honing his hand-to-hand combat prowess in the school’s designated dungeon. It’s Mashle meets Solo Leveling. Will gets picked on (like, a LOT), but he doesn’t care, because he made a promise long ago to reach the pinnacle of magical society to reach his childhood friend, who happens to be a genius mage. There are duels, there’s a tournament, there’s monsters, you know how this goes.

Will has allies in the school, namely a female friend who’s madly in love with him as well as a professor who covers for his shortcomings in magic-related subjects, but remember that this is a self-insert fantasy: There are also increasingly menacing bullies for him to put in their place. Will is challenged by a Snape-like instructor, a classmate who just hates him so much for not having magic aptitude, and a top performer at the school who’s just flat-out evil (and racist to boot!). And of course the latter two also have goon squads of snickering hangers-on. Will always succeeds, of course, because despite his shortcomings, he’s the strongest and most specialest boy. It’s almost like an isekai without the isekai. Too bad we find out that Will is hilariously shredded, which kinda blows a hole in the self-insert aspect.

Goofy shonen-isms aside, there’s still plenty to enjoy here. Varying types of magic, artifacts, and fantasy races abound, and lore is sprinkled throughout the show in character biographies in the commercial break eyecatches. The story does get gradually less stupid as the season goes on and characters are better fleshed out. And hey, there’s nothing wrong with watching a really strong dude beat the shit out of monsters and assholes.

The only thing that really kept me coming back to Wistoria was that, plainly, it looks and sounds fucking awesome. It’s not the best-looking anime I watched this season (that would either be Oshi no Ko or one of the next two anime on this list), but Wistoria takes such a surprisingly cinematic approach to such an uninspiring story that I couldn’t help but keep watching. The lighting effects are lush, combat animation is bonkers in its best moments, and the score is pretty darn good too. It definitely takes some big swings at simulating camera movements and perspective shots that don’t always accomplish what they set out to do, but I can appreciate the ambition bleeding through. I can see the vision, and that’s what counts.

The actual content is pretty paint-by-numbers, but Wistoria is well-made enough that it’s worth a shaky recommendation. Maybe just turn your brain off until the action picks up. I've heard the manga gets pretty good from here on out, so I'll probably stick it out for another season.

The Gems

The Elusive Samurai

If you’re not already familiar with this series, do me a favor and watch the OP linked right above. Pretty good character animation, right? Expressive, weighty, plenty of personality. The colors pop like crazy too! A lot of the time, an anime series will heavily stylize its OP to attract eyeballs and YouTube metrics, oftentimes bringing in outside animators and directors for a unique feel. In the case of The Elusive Samurai, I cannot stress enough that all that animation is the standard.

Yes, this show looks exceptional. Even putting aside the fact that it’s historical fiction, this show has a truly timeless look to it that I still struggle to put into words. The Elusive Samurai is clearly a modern production but bears all of the hallmarks of what great animation has always looked like when a studio is willing to invest in it: Colors are so bold and saturated that I want to take a damn bite out of them, backgrounds are painstakingly hand-painted even for brief cuts, and there even seems to be a film grain overlay to really sell the classic feel. It’s not perfect (I’ll get into that later), but holy shit is it a feast for the eyes.

Adapted from the pages of Weekly Shonen Jump, The Elusive Samurai is a heavily fictionalized retelling of the fallout of the Siege of Kamakura in the 14th Century. Tokiyuki Hojo, left without a family in a bloody coup of the shogunate, is prevented from committing suicide by enigmatic priest Yorishige Suwa and then thrown right back into the fire of the battlefield. Yorishige, who has prophetic visions of the future, foresaw Tokiyuki’s ascent to leadership and wants to see how he fares in battle. Tokiyuki didn’t bother with his training as a young master, instead playing elaborate games of hide-and-seek with the Hojo clan’s advisors, so in the face of certain danger, he’s left with no choice but to do what he does best and run the fuck away. And as with evading his training, Tokiyuki realizes that it’s way more fun than actual combat, and the future is suddenly even more clear to Yorishige: Evasion, not bloodthirst, will guide Tokiyuki’s path to revenge.

At Yorishige’s increasingly unnerving behest, Tokiyuki goes into hiding at Suwa Shrine and begins building a squad to take down the usurper, Takauji Ashikaga. Along with Yorishige’s daughter, Shizuku, he teams up with young warriors Kojiro and Ayako, and in their travels pick up the crass, kitsune-masked thief Genba and the food-obsessed swordsboy Fubuki. It’s fine as extended casts go, though we don’t get much from a few of them past their introductory arcs. Tokiyuki is an absolute delight, though. He’s a sweet and joyful kid despite his circumstances; real shonen protag material. And most importantly, he’s completely over Yorishige’s shit.

I’m a sucker for magical realism, and The Elusive Samurai delivers. Yorishige really does appear to be a prophet, to the point where he can even predict Dragon Ball Z (yes, really), and he and Shizuku are capable of pulling off acts that any actual person would consider a literal miracle. Mythical beasts roam the land and those that were slain appear to reside on a different realm accessible to the Suwas. All of Takauji’s top soldiers have senses and abilities far beyond anything human or animal, and Takauji himself seems to have borrowed some of his prowess from the devil himself. With this show’s commitment to top-tier visuals and animation, the sky's the limit for what we can see, and it kept me glued to my TV every episode. It almost made me want to watch Demon Slayer. Almost.

The cast has some solid performances from familiar names and voices: Yuichi Nakamura is his usual blusteringly silly self as Yorishige, Aoi Yuuki is a riot as Genba, and Katsuyuki Konishi (Kamina himself!) infuses Takauji with appropriate menace. There’s some Chainsaw Man and Bocchi sprinkled into Tokiyuki’s clan of rookie warriors as well. Good stuff, but what really caught my attention was a surprisingly familiar voice giving life to the bug-eyed villain Sadamune Ogasawara: None other than Yutaka Aoyama, the narrator of Kaguya-sama: Love is War. Nobody could have more perfectly infused Sadamune with the appropriate level of self-serious goofiness than the guy who narrated Kaguya-sama’s balloon game like it was an NFL Film. Perfect casting.

As incredible as this show looks most of the time, the remainder does have a critical issue: CloverWorks didn’t seem too invested in hand-animating horses or any of the show’s characters riding them, so it opted instead for CGI. Very poorly-implemented CGI. I really try to take stuff like this as it comes, but the modeling looks way too video-gamey for the style the rest of the show is going for, to the point where I’m taken out of it. There’s really no excuse for something this uncanny with the high bar The Elusive Samurai set for itself early on (and yes, Uzumaki is airing as I write this, and I’ll talk about the similar problem that show has at the end of the year).

I know I just said this about Wind Breaker last year, but this may be CloverWorks’ other Big Shonen Hit. It certainly has the juice, between the wacky gags and shockingly brutal violence, and CGI issues aside, the studio has clearly invested in it. A second season is already on the way, and I’d say it’s paid off. If the studio can iron out the kinks, this could end up becoming an all-timer.

Makeine: Too Many Losing Heroines!

If I haven’t made it clear enough, my anime journey has turned me into a bit of a romcom guy. Couldn’t tell you why. Maybe it’s because Tenchi Muyo was a formative anime for me, or maybe it’s because I got on Kaguya-sama relatively early in my return-to-weebdom trek and I’ve been chasing that high ever since. I could go on and on about the ones I’ve watched and which particularly stood out, but we’d be here all day. At the same time, though, a burgeoning market for the genre, particularly among the shonen demographic, means that there’s gonna be some real slop out there. Plenty of anime, manga, and especially light novels are targeted at the “lonely boy who wishes cute girls would attach themselves to him just because he’s A Nice Guy” type, and while there are some genuinely excellent series that cater plenty to that kind, there’s a well-defined line between the good and the trash.

Makeine is well aware of that line and elects to skip rope with it. Genre subversion is at its best when the work in question shows a genuine care for the milieu it’s satirizing, and Too Many Losing Heroines is to trashy light novel romcoms what The Eminence in Shadow is to edgy isekai and Bang Brave Bang Bravern is to vaguely homoerotic mech warfare. It’ll slap you in the face with every dumb threadbare cliche you’ve come to expect from the genre, and it’ll do so with a smile.

These stories are usually fronted by a total wet noodle and Kazuhiko Nukumizu is the soggiest soba you’ve ever seen. His main interests are water fountains and hey, wouldn’t you know it, light novel romcoms. As far as he’s concerned, he’s a background character with the personality to match. He’s thrust to the forefront, though, when he’s caught staring at his classmate, Anna Yanami, embarrassingly picking up the pieces from being brutally rejected at a cafe. She forces herself into Nukumizu’s booth and helps herself to several courses’ worth of stress-eating on his dime, which he never agreed to. As recompense, Anna decides to cook him lunch until her debt is more or less repaid, and would you look at that, Nukumizu just made a friend!

As the title would suggest, Anna’s not the only lovelorn maiden finding her way into Nukumizu’s school life. He’s exhorted into joining the school’s literature club, where he meets the track runner, Lemon Yakishio, and the lit club’s stammering stalwart, Chika Komari. He also has to bear witness to each of their own crushes backfiring and deal with the fallout. And amidst this chaos, there’s plenty of botched confessions, getting locked in storage closets, boob faceplants, and all the other nonsense you’d expect from the genre. And it’s terrific! And in the midst of all this, even as Nukumizu seems to be a passenger in this journey, you see him ever-so-slowly realize that he has some agency and grow closer to these girls. Makeine is plenty silly and more than a little stupid, but there’s plenty of heart in here as well.

The offbeat character dynamics and clever dialogue are what really make this. Everyone is just refreshingly weird in their own ways. Anna is a complete menace and totally convinced she’s the protagonist of life, and she may not even be wrong. I almost don’t care whether she and Nukumizu get together or not; they’re such a fun “serious guy/goblin mode girl” pairing that I’m not that interested in their dynamic changing. Komari and the lit club VP Koto are a dynamic fujoshi duo, ensuring that the club’s shenanigans aren’t too shonen-centric (and funny enough, Koto has her own idea for an Osamu Dazai isekai). Everyone in the student council has something demonstrably Wrong With Them, the homeroom teacher is a disaster, and the school nurse probably belongs in prison. I love every single one of them. I could’ve done without Nukumizu’s offputtingly-clingy little sister (and learning about her analogue in this season’s other romcom LN adaptation, Alya Sometimes Hides Her Feelings in Russian, was enough to put me off of watching it), but it looks like one of her own female classmates is in love with her, so that could be gold in later seasons.

A-1 Pictures, to borrow an industry term, put its entire pussy into this production. As with last year’s Heavenly Delusion, there was so much love put into the lighting effects, background art, and character animation that I felt like I was watching a Makoto Shinkai film at times. All of those elements working in tandem massaged my brain in such a way that when every episode ended, I was left confused because hey, where the hell is the rest of the movie? Makeine is also loaded with killer visual gags, and I give A-1 a ton of credit for letting those jokes land without calling too much attention to them, unlike a certain other show I watched this season. The opening and endings were real treats, with three different EDs as the season progressed, each depicting one of the titular heroines’ personal journeys (and performed by each respective girl’s VA, no less). This is some real investment on the studio’s part and it absolutely paid off.

I promise that every time I compare a romcom to Kaguya-sama, it comes at a great inner struggle to prevent myself from doing so, but if that anime is truly over and this is where A-1 is focusing its resources, Makeine may very well be a worthy successor. I really can’t say for sure whether this or The Elusive Samurai was the best new anime of the summer season, and it doesn’t help that they aired on the same day and I’d always watch them back-to-back. Just know that they’re easily two of the better anime I’ve seen this year.

Mayonaka Punch

If “mega-cancelled YouTuber starts up a new channel with a bunch of disaster lesbian vampires” isn’t enough of a hook for you, I really don’t know what else to tell you.

Masaki got kicked off her popular NewTube channel after punching one of her co-hosts, and the internet is letting her hear it. Maybe barging in on the “we’re firing Masaki” live stream and tackling one of them didn’t help either. Rather than film the bog-standard apology video, she figures she can just wing it and start up a solo channel. Masaki decides to start by playing the hits and drunkenly recreate her first channel’s breakout video in a spooky abandoned hospital, and finds more than she bargained for in a vampire named Live (pronounced like it’d be short for Olivia) who really, really wants to drink her blood in particular. Masaki nearly falls to her death in a panic, only for Live to save her and reveal that she has the very filmable ability to fly, so Masaki cuts a deal: If Live can help her get a new channel off the ground, Masaki will let her drink her blood.

This is tremendous content, so Masaki moves in with Live at Banpai Manor along with her vampire roomies to produce a new channel, co-starring the eternal 10-year-old day trader (night trader?) Ichiko, the soft-spoken fujoshi musician Fu, and the heavy-vaping gambling addict Tokage. They name the channel Mayonaka Punch (because mayonaka means “midnight” and because Masaki punched the shit out of her former co-host) and quickly get to work trying to beat Masaki’s former channel to their goal of a million subscribers (and a delicious lunch for Live). Even though they try to pass off their vampire shenanigans as Very Good CGI, they run afoul of a vampiric authority figure for exposing their identities, so they have to get internet famous the old fashioned way: Cute Girls Doing Cute Things.

I can’t quite put into words what a blast this show is. Mayonaka Punch frequently barrels along at a madcap pace, often punctuated by an electro-swing score, as its cast of loud idiots (and Fu) carom off of one another to chaotic effect. The voice cast really sells it, too: Ikumi Hasegawa (Kita in Bocchi the Rock!, Vladilena in 86, Übel in Frieren) owns every ounce of Masaki’s mounting exasperation as she deals with all the vampire nonsense while continuing to avoid the consequences of her own actions. Fairouz Ai continues her MVP-caliber resume for 2024 in style as Live, infusing her with a kind of desperate manic energy as she scratches and claws for Masaki’s approval. This was easily my favorite of her many roles so far this year, and two years removed from Chainsaw Man’s debut, it’s been a treat to hear her once again voicing a feral, bloodsucking loser.

As silly as Mayonaka Punch gets, though, it delivers some serious emotional blows when you least expect them. The fourth episode, centering on Fu’s history, is one of the best of any anime I watched this season. There’s also some very interesting history between Live and the head vampire’s go-between, Yuki, that was told through (though partially buried by) a series of video game facsimiles, and I hope there’s more there someday. And, of course, there’s Masaki’s evolving relationship with Live, with romantic undertones so tantalizing they might as well be overtones. I really thought there wasn’t enough time left in the season to reach a satisfying conclusion, and though it might not have fully reeled in the yuri bait, I was pleasantly surprised at how well everything tied together.

Mayonaka Punch’s ending is open enough that I can only hope it gets a second season, but I’m not about to hold my breath. That’s a tall order for original anime that don’t set the world on fire, but this one has all the right pieces for a future cult classic. Liked and subscribed.

Suicide Squad Isekai

When this was announced, the only reaction it really got out of me was “Sure dude, why not.” As far as what this show is, it does what it says on the tin. It’s an isekai featuring a motley crew of anti-heroes plucked directly from the David Ayers and James Gunn Suicide Squad films. You already know what you’re in for.

Sure enough, this is a straight up Suicide Squad story from the jump: Harley Quinn and the Joker (the latter sporting yet another heinous makeover) try to pull off a heist, it goes sideways, Harley gets arrested and forced into Amanda Waller’s scheme to mine rare resources in another world alongside Deadshot, Clayface, Peacemaker, and King Shark. It’s your standard JRPG-style isekai fantasy world, except the previous Suicide Squad of Enchantress, the Thinker, Ratcatcher, and Killer Croc seem to have run roughshod over tensions between races and kingdoms, leaving Rick Flag alone to pick up the pieces.

And what ensues is pretty much what you’d expect. Everyone looks appropriately anime; Psycho-Pass character designer Akira Amano did especially good work with Harley, to the point where I’m shocked that a billion-yen idea like “anime Harley Quinn” was slept on for so long. All of this makes it even funnier that Peacemaker is still very much just John Cena. Character designs aside, Suicide Squad Isekai only seems to look good when it wants to; most of the moment-to-moment stuff looks a bit muted but absolutely pops off when business picks up. There’s even a flashback sequence of Deadshot and Ratcatcher that has a sort of loose, crumbly Masaaki Yuasa look to it. Despite the genericism of the setting and inconsistency of the aesthetic, though, Suicide Squad Isekai still carries plenty of style with it. The intro and outro are both blasts; I didn’t realize until the season ended that the “Tank!”-style OP was by Tomoyasu Hotei, the composer of the most iconic piece of music from Kill Bill. The ED (content warning: Mori Calliope) heavily features Amanda Waller getting down in ways I can only hope to one day see Viola Davis recreate.

The fusion of American and Japanese styles is definitely awkward at times; the occasional references to other Warner Bros properties like Lord of the Rings and Tom and Jerry feel particularly shoehorned in considering this is a Japanese production, but the voice cast makes up for a lot of faults. Anna Nagase captures Harley’s freewheeling energy perfectly, and her penchant for nicknames is extra cute in Japanese when she’s calling the Joker “Purin-chan” or King Shark “Nana-chan.” Jun Fukuyama is a real standout as Clayface, channeling the flashy spirit of Joker (not this one, the Persona 5 one) to animate Basil Karlo’s irritating showmanship. Takehito Koyasu as Peacemaker doesn’t quite have the self-serious goofy energy we’ve come to expect from the live action version, but it’s such funny casting on its face that I don’t really mind. Can this tradeoff go both ways? I want John Cena as DIO yesterday.

For a Studio WIT production and a story by Re:Zero’s writers, Suicide Squad Isekai may occasionally feel like less than the sum of its parts (par for the course for the property’s recent adaptations, unfortunately, save for the Gunn film), but if you don’t come at it expecting too much you’ll have a good time. Far from my favorite this year, but it’s a crowd pleaser, and those, I like.

#anime reviews #nier automata #oshi no ko #my deer friend nokotan #shikanoko nokonoko koshitantan #isekai shikkaku #no longer allowed in another world #wistoria wand and sword #the elusive samurai #makeine #too many losing heroines!#mayonaka punch #suicide squad isekai

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