#because I EARNED IT DARN IT

[metastablephysicist]

just learned about scotch darning. oh the humble blanket stitch... <3

[yestrday]

: ̗̀➛ ALL OR NOTHING. yan! aventurine / gn! reader

it's a nice feeling to finally be on the winning side, feigning fairness when all the winning cards are in his hand. but it's not like you can fault him for cheating. after all, you who has nothing chose to challenge him, the one who will gain everything.

( overarching theme of sl4very, anim4l cruelty, anim4l death, bl00d, graphic description of violence, hinted obsessive behavior, im unoriginal and stole kafkas spirit whisper for reader ) + 7.5k words

"It's just a bet," he suggests, as if this gamble won't cost you your everything. "Juuust a bet. Exactly what are you so scared of?"

He sits laid back in his plush velvet chair, twirling a cocktail as he enjoys the finest luxuries in life. He is clad head to toe in the finest clothing, dressed like a peacock waiting to impress. You, on the other hand, feel more like the peahen— dreadfully drab in your rags and no choice but to watch as the peacock flaunts his feathers. You are knelt on the ground, but your eyes show no submission.

"I'm not crazy, gambler," you bite. "I know the IPC. They are full of shit. And you, Aventurine." Your eyes set on him with hatred. "You're the smelliest of the lot."

Aventurine, the gem of lies and luck, sighs dramatically. "Pup, you know I don't like it when you're so vulgar, y'know? I'm giving you a chance at freedom, so you ought to at least treat me at least a little bit nicer. I'm not the one who shackled you, so I don't understand what the aggression is all about."

"You're the reason why I'm here in the first place!"

"No, Jade was." He presses a finger to your lip and you'd bite it if it weren't for the annoying bind you were under. "Jade came across you and thought you and your talent would make for a nice gift. You were a gift and I'm just the receiver. So don't go barking up the wrong tree, pup."

"So." He leans back into his couch and shoots you a sly grin. "Up for round one?"

You are lost.

The meaning of Paths and their symbolisms are lost on you. You don't care for Aeons— no one on your home planet was. You were busy diving in dumpsters for a scrape of food, tricking your 'friends' into sacrificing themselves for you, and killing whatever was left of your humanity just to make it to another day. You walk on no Path but yours.

You don't even know which way you're going. So you are lost.

You think Aventurine is lost too.

He has every detail of his facade practiced. His gait is relaxed enough to not be intimidating, but not sloppy enough to be called out as bad posture. He talks in a smooth voice that eases fools and makes enemies wary, his smile is charming to sway the opponent into another gamble, his hair is fixed to frame his pretty face, and he chooses words that cannot be turned into loopholes. He is Aventurine. But he is not himself.

He does not care for the Preservation, but he rejects the Elation. He is on his own Path too, but he knows the destination he must reach— his 'End'. In that way, he is different from you, because you know not your journey or your ending. Still, he is just as lost as you.

But he makes a darn good show of not seeming that way. Right now, you watch as he throws the dice on the table, and the whole table watches with bated breath as they turn. A six and one— he lost the bet to the other's six and five. They cackle gleefully as they collect their earnings from Aventurine. They have chips upon chips on their side of the table while Aventurine's winnings are cut in half.

"I think I'll call it a day, pretty boy," the gambler cackles, greedily eyeing his earnings and possibly dreaming about the cash he's made tonight. "Even a gambler knows when to call quits, right?"

Aventurine pouts. "Aww, so soon? C'mon, the night's only begun! Who knows, play another round and you might just end up with more money than you have right now~"

The man laughs again, obviously not fooled by his pity act. "Boy, I'm not as addicted as you are. I know when to stop instead of letting you bleed me out dry." But Aventurine isn't fazed; rather, he snaps his fingers and you lower your head as you step to his side.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? [Y. Name], be a dear and persuade this gentleman into another round with me."

A glow of your eyes. Then you fix the man with an eerie gaze as you say, bright and clear, "Hey, you: Play another round with my master."

As if in a daze, the man's eyes cloud over and sit right back. Another round later Aventurine wins all his losses back and more, leaving the other gambler's side naked and bare of chips. The man is barely out of his stupor when he realizes what just happened— that he's fallen for a trick and now he's ended up with no money to even cover his lodgings— but you and Aventurine have sauntered out of the casino doors by the time he's begun cussing you out.

"Ha! That was fun." Aventurine shrugs off his jacket now that you're in the car and raises an empty champagne glass to you. "You're a good partner, [Y. Name]. Honestly, that Spirit Whisper of yours is such a nice trick. Just like that Stellaron Hunter, right?"

"... Kafka?"

"Yes, her. Enigmatic woman, isn't she? A bit ironic how those with such a powerful ability ended up as slaves. Her as Destiny's, and you as... mine." He gives your collar a little tug and you growl in warning, but you inch closer to him anyway. "So. Gambling. You up for that round?"

You scoff and grin at him with all teeth and no mirth. "You really think that a Cornerstone would bet on their slave's freedom?" Aventurine's own grin grows wider. "C'mon. Even Pteruges-V has better lies than you."

"Ah, right, your homeworld. No wonder you're so brazen all the time, even to your superiors. I forget that fear is a foreign concept to you people. Still," he raises your chin with a finger. "If you're so fearless, why not bet on a gamble? It's not like you're scared."

"There may be fools from my planet that you can trick with that taunt, peacock, but I'm not one of them. I'm fearless, not stupid. And with the way you're so eager to involve me in this bet, I'm beginning to suspect that you need this more than I do." You push him away. "So, no, master, I won't indulge you. I'll bide my time and look for an escape. Just like I've always had."

"And what?" He looks at you from behind his sunglasses. "Will you kill me to gain that freedom?"

You flash him a sharp grin, now amused. "Of course you'd think that, master."

The smile on his face is wiped clean. You really are a brazen thing, you.

Jade has always mentioned how soft Aventurine is on you. A dog of your attitude should merit a little more disciplinary action and even the good Doctor has told him this once or twice after seeing your arrogance despite the collar around your neck. "Your dog bites more than it deserves," Ratio scoffed while you made an action of biting him behind Aventurine. He frowned in displeasure. "You ought to make it learn a lesson or two."

"Now, now, doctor," Aventurine had laughed. "Not everyone shares the same sadistic tendencies as you." An image of you collared and shaking on your knees flashes through his mind, and he finds himself gulping. Ratio looks at him like he doesn't believe him.

It's not like he hasn't thought of it, of chaining you to the wall and starving you so that you learn that your attitude has its consequences. You shouldn't bite the hand that feeds you, not when he's been so good to you. But that... that was exactly the line of thought his old master had. That wicked man who put a brand on him and sullied his hands with his wretched man... he couldn't risk turning into a monster like... that.

Aventurine is weak. Unable to let go of past sentiments and memories, he makes it up with his grand display of bravado and high-stakes gambles. He gambles even as he spoils you, laughing at your audacity and even rewarding you for it sometimes, not knowing whether you'll leave him or if you'll stay with him. It is a gamble indeed, but you were worth every risk.

"What do you think of me, [Y. Name]?" The cityscape beyond the window is glowing with Pier Point's nightlife, and his suite provides him a good view of the world beneath him. He glances back at you, stirring his coffee for him. "Your dear master Aventurine. What do you think of me?"

"Annoying, stupid, a fool, an addict, and pathetic." You don't hesitate to badmouth your master. "You lie too well, you think that luck of yours will never run out, and you try to be someone that you can't."

"And who is that someone?"

Your eyes flash. "Someone strong. Someone confident. Someone who isn't afraid to admit his weaknesses and hope that things get better."

"I didn't peg you for an optimist, dear pet."

"Hmph. That's not optimism. I may not know what exactly fear is, but I know that what is holding you back isn't it. You do not fear things, gambler. You stake it all and bet on something so intangible as luck. That can't be fear."

"Then what is it?"

The stare you give him sets his heart off, looking straight into his eyes and giving a grin so devilish and knowing like that facade of his never mattered in the first place.

"You're a coward. A plain, old coward. Nothing more, nothing less."

That conversation had always popped up in his head in the most inconvenient of moments, especially when he was about to get some sleep. His heart beat faster every time he recalled that knowing gaze of yours, invading where he didn't want the world to see and baring his soul right before your very eyes. His facade doesn't work on you.

He could care less. You were the one person he didn't want it to work on, though he'd never admit that out loud.

This meeting with the other Ten Cornerstones could not interest him any less, and it seemed to be that way for the others too. Jade is saying something on behalf of Diamond, again, and everyone is busy doing their own thing. Only Topaz seems to be the one paying at least some attention, and even then she gets distracted by Numby from time to time. Aventurine glances at the clock.

He wonders how his pup is faring while he's away. Ecstatic, perhaps.

"— All evidence leads to an underground network that is scattered among numerous planets, though thankfully all of them are within the same galaxy. I'll be forwarding an email to you all with a detailed report on each of these. Just know that most of us will be likely deported to these countries to break up the—" In the middle of Jade's tiresome monologue, the security alarms start to blare and two officers slam through the doors with looks of urgency. One of them scans the room until his eyes land on Aventurine, and they quickly approach him.

"Sir!" They say, desperate and alarmed. "Your do— I mean, slave! They've– They've escaped!"

Surprise streaks across the faces of the Ten Cornerstones, even Aventurine's. He collects himself when he catches Jade's knowing smile and chuckles to himself.

"Well, I guess this is the master's consequence for not disciplining their pet."

Did he really think you were fucking stupid? Taking on a bet for your freedom... what a bunch of bullshit. He can proclaim about how much he loves a fair gamble, but you know that's only reserved for the people around the table. You are his slave, the one he demeaningly calls 'pet'— you don't have the chance to make your own dealings.

"Halt! In the name of Qlipoth, you better stop while we're giving you a chance." These IPC henchmen were slowpokes, the lot of them. You weave in and between salary workers, crashing trolleys full of wares and coffees and hopping between levels just to shake them off their tracks. By golly, they might be incompetent but Aeons damned they were nothing but persistent.

"Ha, the Devil Hunters were more annoying than them," you mutter to yourself, skidding around the corner only to come face-to-face with two IPC henchmen. They raise their polearms to strike, but with a chilling grin stretched across your face, you say: "Hey, you: Jump."

You don't look back to see whether they made the seven-floor drop.

This reminds you of the nights you spent back in Pteruges-V: making fools out of the prissy rich, jumping across buildings to shake of the Hunters, and using whatever you had to make things go your way. Not everyone had Spirit Whisper, but those who had made good use of it and you sure as hell wouldn't miss a single chance to use it.

Your mind runs with plans as you continue to run away. Maybe you'll find a nice ship to stow away on, hopefully, one that leads to a nice planet that isn't so stuffy and rigid. Maybe like Homberto-σ, out of sight from the IPC and where everyone minded their own business.

For what felt like forever trying to shake your followers off, you finally came to a stop when you realized that only the sound of your footsteps could be heard in this labyrinth of hallways and corridors. Finally having shaken them off, you sigh as you climb up the stairs to the rooftop. 'Just jump down and sneak off to the nearest hiding place you can find.' You tug at your collar and scowl. 'When I escape, not even this collar will matter anymore. Not when I'm somewhere they won't reach me.'

You've escaped so many life-or-death situations before. Escaping slavery is no different.

"Slave [Y.Name], subordinate of Cornerstone Aventurine, you are surrounded!" A voice blares through a megaphone the moment you step onto the roof deck. You hiss as multiple glaring lights settle on you, shielding your face from them and the helicopters' onslaught of wind. "Surrender now before we are forced to take extreme measures."

Through the gaps of your fingers, you can barely make out the men in black pointing their guns at your head, the red hot of the laser making you a point-blank target. You click your tongue. Those bastards tricked you into thinking you were safe. Fuck. You couldn't even be mad. This was all on you.

"Oh, little pup. I guess I really should have listened to them when they told me to discipline you." Aventurine's seedy voice sighs behind you, smirking as he nonchalantly strides up to you. "Did you really have to do all this instead of taking the bet? Do you really hate the thought of playing with me, hm?"

"Fuck off."

"No can do, little one, you know how much I'm obsessed with you, right?" He chuckles, catching your chin between his thumb and index and forcing you to look into his eyes. Those Sigonian eyes are covered by the cloudy purple of his glasses, but even you can tell just how much he's enjoying this mess you've put yourself in. "You know I don't have a need for your skill. I could easily persuade anyone without trying, but I still let you stick around. Pup, I can't just back away from you when you know how much I want you."

You smile darkly. "That's cuz you're a sicko who likes tugging on the chain instead of being in it."

Those pretty eyes of his darken for a moment, embittered by the snarky comment at his past, before his hands trail down to your collar, hooking it with a finger and pulling on it. "Dear, while I usually have the patience for your tirades, I'd rather not do it today. You've humiliated me enough in front of the entire Corporation. So—" Pulling once again on your collar, he starts to lead you to the door. "— Let us depart without much hassle, okay?"

Humiliation sears your nerves like a hot metal, a warning growl eliciting from your mouth as he continues to tug you away from the rooftop. Close, you were so fucking close. Here you are breathing in the fresh night wind, a jump away from freedom, but then these IPC idiots all had you fooled. You don't care how many bullets will embed themselves into your skin, all you just needed to do was get away from this grip Aventurine has on you.

You grab the wrist pulling on you, yanking him towards you. His eyes widen before narrowing again, as if not believing that you still had the energy to fight like you don't have red laser points on your forehead. "[Y. Na—"

"Hey, you: S—"

You couldn't even get another syllable out. Your collar beats a few pulses before it starts squeezing your neck, crushing your windpipes and forcing you down on your knees as you choke on your blood. It sears hot around your neck and you collapse writhing on the ground as you sob and gurgle on your screams and congealed blood.

'WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY ME—' You can only curse and scream inside your head as you painfully thrash on the cement. '— A BILLION BASTARDS IN THE WORLD AND IT HAD TO BE FUCKING ME.'

Darkness is pushing in on you and the pain is making it too hard to go on, but you've always been a fighter. Even if you think that your squirming is pathetic and futile to the onlookers, you continue to tug and pull on the collar like you have a chance. Your ears are ringing and your eyes are too fucking blurry to see with, but the fight doesn't die down.

Aventurine places a soft palm on your hair. Even through the tears stinging your eyes, you can barely make out the faint expression on his face. Damned fucking bastard, damned Signonian, hypocrite and the fucking devil—!

He even has the audacity to look sad for you, as the light slips away from your eyes.

The first round is simple. Play a round of poker with him.

Aventurine hums delightedly as he shuffles the cards with clean and practised movements, looking right at home at the dealer's table he has sitting in his suite. You blankly look at the cards, not even an inch of a reaction from your side. He chuckles as he deals your cards.

"C'mon, look alive, dear." It's almost like he genuinely wants you to cheer up. "Look, I even poured out alcohol for you. It's not everyday that you get to taste Pier Point's most exquisite wine!"

You continue to stare blankly. You haven't given up yet, of course not, but... you can barely bring yourself to move.

When Aventurine is done dealing all the cards, he leans back on his chair and studies his opponent, just like he always has in the past. If you were acting normally, this would have been an easy win. After all, you always wore your heart on your sleeve and abhorred being told to control your emotions. You acted the way you felt— you curse when you anger, you boast when you're feeling smug, and you press your lips together and blush as he praises you for another job well done.

But now. Well. Bandaids cover the seared marks on your neck as well as your head after you've slammed it against the pavement during your delirious fit on the rooftop. Your arms are littered with purples and blues, the aftermath of a disciplinary session that went on throughout the night. Despite the abuse that Aventurine has (rightfully, in his mind) dealt to you, he had made sure to tend to you afterwards.

Settling your head on his lap, combing through the strands as he placed an icepack on your bruises. He hummed you an old children's rhyme from his home planet as you lay limp across the couch. You could barely move, mind unable to process the pain and despair of having an inch of freedom being ripped away from you. He had wiped away the tear that would fall from your eyes.

You couldn't feel comforted at all.

"This will be the first round out of four. Today, we'll make this a bit simple. Five quick rounds of Indian poker. If you're confident that your card is higher than mine, you can bet as much as you like. Not confident? Fold, and that won't count as a round. Loser has the lower card." He raises his glasses to his hair and smiles at you. "Understood?"

"Understood," you grunt. "I'm not a fuckin' idiot."

Aventurine only smirks. It irritates you, but you don't have much fire in you to snap at him.

The room is silent save for the clinking of chips against each other. The two of you cast a chip to the middle of the table. You raise your card to your forehead.

You cast two more chips. Aventurine casts three. You stare at the printed picture on his card and throw in another chip. He throws in another five. You frown.

"Fold."

"Ah~ You should've been more confident in yourself!" Aventurine chuckles as he begins to shuffle the deck to deal another round. You scowl at the Ace of Clubs in your hand, mocking you at your relinquished defeat. "Is a little intimidation all that's needed to make you submit? You weren't this docile before."

"Shut the fuck up and let's play again." He decides to stifle his laugh for the sake of your nerves.

"Raise." Your win, six of hearts to three of spades.

"Raise." Your win, queen of spades to jack of hearts.

"Fold." Could've been Aventurine's, ace of spades to king of spades.

"Raise." Aventurine's win, eight of clubs to six of hearts.

"Fold." Could've been yours, queen of hearts to 10 of clubs.

"Raise." Aventurine's win, nine of clubs to seven of spades.

Aventurine's practiced hands thumb through the cards as he begins to rearrange them again. His glass wine is almost empty, while yours is untouched. The man knows that you don't drink, so why would he...?

"Last round before one of us wins," Aventurine's voice lilts as he throws you your card. "How about we make it exciting? No one is allowed to fold this round." You frown at him but don't say anything. You cast another chip to the table, and he follows suit.

He has a 10 of spades pressed to his forehead, and your fingers dig deep into your skin.

'Oh please, there's other cards higher than a 10.' You remind yourself, but you gulp down your dry throat as your vision zeroes into his card. 'Jack, Queen, King, Ace. Anything. Please.' Aventurine notices your hurried breathing and smiles knowingly. You gulp whatever cowardice is rising in your throat and throw another chip.

"Raise." Fuck it. If this is the last round, then let's just ball.

He cocks his head, finding the motion unnecessary in this last round. But he sighs with a smile and plays along, casting his chips into the fray, "Then I'll raise too."

"This is the last round," you say, more so to remind yourself.

"Yep." He leans forward on the table and the fluorescent lights cast a shadow over those alluring eyes. "Nervous?"

'How could you say that? How could you taunt me like that? When you were just like me?'

You strengthen your resolve and glare up at him, the fire lighting back up in those blank eyes. "I hope you go to hell."

You throw your card to the middle, with the rest of the chips.

Jack of Clubs.

Aventurine cocks his head at you, smiling as usual.

"Congratulations, pet."

One would expect that Pier Point was the peak embodiment of wealth and luxury, being the base of the Interastral Peace Corporation. But the brightly something shone the darker its shadows.

Aventurine just so happened to like those shadows, even shrugging off those fancy clothes of his just so that he could find solace in those sleazy bars and play rounds of poker with dead-eyed salarymen and recently fired hopefuls.

The surroundings didn't fare any better. Amongst the dying neon lights, Pier Point's worst neighborhoods featured a just as nasty environment. Drunkards lying beside dumpsters with shattered beer bottles around them, cats hissing at each other in a fight for survival, and abandoned children peeking at them around the corner as they lay in wait for an opening.

Aventurine has shedded his elaborate peacock coat in favor of a simple white button-down and slacks. Despite the simplicity, he still looked out of place amongst the rags, though it made people think of him as a fearless idiot rather than run away at the sight of the IPC's elite.

"Mmm, that robin is indeed very plump," the blonde idiot remarks out of nowhere. "Quite out of place for this kind of area."

You pay him very little attention, mindlessly kicking the broken half of a bottle with your heel. It bumps into a smelly bastard who shoots you an irritated look, but quickly cowers when you return it tenfold. "Maybe it's been feeding on the leftovers of you prissy IPC folk," you spat, taking a look at the fat robin for yourself.

He takes no notice of the slight towards his kind and instead cocks his head at the cat slinking around the corner. "Well. Its health has attracted a rather unwelcome predator." He turns to you, with a mischievous smile. "How about we make this round two? Who will die first, the cat or the robin?"

Seriously? You were betting your freedom on something as stupid as this? You consider the cat— snarling, insipid thing, balding and thin as a stick— then the robin, tweeting fearfully at its perch on the graffitied wall. "Am betting on the cat. Could eat the fat thing while you go on another gamble."

He laughs, sliding on his shades as he walks into the seedy bar. "Then I have no choice but to bet on the poor robin. Let's have some fun before we see the results of our bet."

The cat is lying on the ground, heaving its last few breaths. Its yellow eyes are barely peeking out from its eyelids, probably delirious and starving in its last moments. You poke it slightly with your foot.

It meows pitifully. You instantly feel bad.

It might just be the ugliest thing you've laid your eyes on, but even the ugliest creatures deserve some sort of companionship in their last moments. It hisses weakly when you draw your hand close, but it can't do anything but relent as you stroke its hairless head. It purrs a bit, ragged and breathy, but the heaving of its ribbed chest slows as it relaxes.

"Don't do that," you murmur. "Just... just be quiet. It's okay."

The quiet steps of leather shoes stop beside you, and Aventurine watches on in silence as you comfort the dying thing. His gaze moves from the cat to the robin, still perched on top of the wall with his fat little chest and beady eyes. It hasn't moved from its position at all, just... staring and staring.

"So—"

"I know," you murmur, focus still on the poor thing. "I know, okay?"

The fat robin chirps again, tittering with its mocking chirp, before it flies away into the sky.

Your cat closes its eyes shut, and its skinny chest finally slows to a stop.

Aventurine stays with you for a while as you find a nice spot of earth to bury it.

No matter how much you want to believe your preconceived image of the blonde gambler— irresponsible, materialistic, money-wasting— you can't just make up lies about him in your head when all of his missions end on a win for him. Right now, he's heading for another mission in a galaxy far away again. And like always, he's dragged you along whether you like it or not.

"Come on, you like sightseeing other planets!" He laughs on the space warp going there. "Makes your blood pumping, scouting out the possible planets you can run away to."

"If I can run away," you grumble, not wanting to acknowledge him as you stare out the window and into the starry expanse of galaxies and space. This sight has always unnerved you— a reminder of how small and insignificant you are. How small and insignificant this collar hand on your life.

"It's not like you to be such a downer," he huffs. He pats the empty seat beside him. "Come, come. Drink with me. Ah, but no alcohol though. Don't want you trying to bite my entourage as soon as we get off." He's referring to the time that you had two sips of the lightest alcohol the ship had in stock before you absolutely wasted and decided that running away to the next planet was a good idea.

You grunt but sit on the floor next to his feet. He doesn't dare to correct you but only regards you with amusement before handing you a glass of sparkling water. You've always had this weird insistence of maintaining your master-slave status quo, despite abhorring your status as a slave. You followed his commands to the tee no matter how dangerous but refused to budge whenever he insisted on treating you like an equal.

"Don't get me wrong," you had snapped at him angrily one time. "As long as I'm in this stupid collar, I am not your fucking equal. So don't go around treatin' me like one, got it?!"

"You got the briefing, right? I'll be dismantling an underground operation on our next planet, so I'll be making good use of your Spirit Whisper." You sip your drink and make no reaction. "I'm sure you have no complaints about that, right?"

"Like I have a fuckin' choice."

He laughs into his cocktail. "Right. How could I forget?" Your eyes narrow into slits when he threads his thin fingers through your hair, but you don't make any move to remove them. "Unfortunately, this isn't an operation that I can just charm and gamble my way through, so you'll be doing a lot of heavy lifting. But so long as I have you, my dearest pet, I'm sure we'll be done before we know it."

You fight the urge to give into his tender touch, massaging your scalp as he combs your strands, though your eyelids are drooping now. He chuckles fondly when you rest your chin on the sofa, right next to his thigh. Adorable, how easily you succumb to the smallest of physical affection.

"Just take a nap," he hums. "We'll be there before you know it."

Aventurine's lavish outfit is a stark contrast against the nitty and gritty environment of the gambling den the two of you are staking out right now. Some of the men leer at him when he passes by, their faces painted by sweat and malice, and the promiscuous women bat their eyes at him with painted-on sweet smiles. No one bats an eye at the collared servant trailing behind him.

You try not to wince as you accidentally make eye contact with another slave, them kneeling on the ground with only rags to cover them and you have the luxury to look away as you grip the sleeves of your ironed button-down. You decide to just fix your eyes on Aventurine's back for the rest of the journey.

The next room you enter— less room to be honest, and more... coliseum-y— features a fighting ring where the crowd cheers on two dogs circling each other under the fluorescent spotlights. The other one, bigger and scarred, is baring his teeth while bearing a deep red gash across his body. The smaller one is shivering but giving the same energy back, snarling in intimidation while also sporting a noticeable limp. Despite the darkness of the room, you don't miss the way Aventurine's face contorts into disgust as he looks at the fight and surveys the crowd of spectators.

"Disgusting," he murmurs. You don't say anything back, though you doubt he could hear you amidst all this cheering. You used to bet on dogs too, back in the day. It was quick and easy money, and you had better things to worry about than the fate of some mutt.

While you're focused on the pathetic dog show in front of you, he steps to your side and nudges you with his elbow. "Willing to bet?" He asks, eyes focused on the show. "As our third round."

"From the look on your face, I thought you hated this kind of thing."

"I do, but I'm not putting money in the pot like the rest of them. This is strictly between you and me with no money involved." He turns his gaze to you. "So, what about it?"

You study the dogs. They've been circling each other for a while now, and the crowd's been growing more and more agitated by the lack of fighting. You think of the dogs you've bet on before, how the smaller ones had just an equal chance of success at winning as the bigger ones. Unconsciously, you tug at your collar. It matches perfectly with the stupid dogs down below.

"Bet," you huff. "I'm taking the smaller one."

You don't know why. It'd make sense to just bet on the bigger and badder, but maybe it's that ferocity in his eyes even if it's overshadowed by the growling menace that has you feeling for it. It's stupid, you know, betting your freedom on a hunch and emotions. But...

If it could have a chance at winning... then why can't you?

...

... Are you destined to die, just like it?

... Are you destined to die as a slave for another IPC slave?

... Will your death be just as morbid and pathetic as the mongrel, his innards spilling onto the pavement while the winner is pulled away by the collar, with no prize but another day of freedom?

This is round three out of four. You've only won one so far.

The very next round could kill you. Could completely sign away your freedom.

Shit shit shit shit shit. Why'd you have to go feeling sorry for the stupid shit? Why'd you have to empathize with its futile fight? Why'd you have to go see yourself in it? Now you could very much share its fate, dying pathetically serving for people who never cared about you in the first place.

Shit shit shit shit shit. The pressure of the bet has always been at the back of your mind, niggling at your brain. But now you can feel its heavy weight squeezing around your heart, in perfect rhythm with the phantom choking of your collar. If you don't win the next, you could very much—

Something light touches your shoulder and you lurch back like you had been stricken there. It disgusts and scares you, sending both repulsion and fear through your body like maggots wriggling into your system.

With a faltering outstretched palm, Aventurine's eyes widen behind his glasses. He sees something on your face, enough to make him bite down whatever cocky shit he has to say, and turns his back towards you.

"Let's go," he says, just barely audible above the crowd. "We still have a mission to complete.

"This is some silly joke of yours, isn't it?" Aventurine maintains his cool facade, but even then there is disgust in his tone as he speaks to Jade. "Giving a slave to another... you must think this is hilarious."

"Amusing, maybe, but this little one is too precious to let loose in the wild." Jade strokes your head, and while you curse in warning, you don't move to attack. "A user of Spirit Whisper, a rarity even among those in Pteruges-V. Don't you think it'd be better if they served the Amber Lord rather than going back to their pretty crimes?"

"Then give them to someone else." Aventurine turns his back on you and Jade. "Since when did I need help closing a deal?"

"Well, I just thought that you were lonely."

"And you think gifting me a slave of all things would help me?"

"Oh, just give them a chance. I'm sure you'll like this one. Look." Jade raises your chin with a finger, lifting your bruised face to the light. You shoot her a glare, plotting murder in your head, but you don't try to fight back. You might have tried once, probably, and learned your lesson. "Don't you love the fire in their eyes, even after being collared and brutally beaten?"

It is sick. It is sick how Jade can just easily muse about your past abuse to his face. To him. It is sick how the IPC thinks that Aventurine would even be happy about this... gift, let alone accept it.

"I appreciate the... thought." Jade smiles at the barely held back distaste in his voice. "But I'd really rather not."

"Oh, I see..." Jade hums, tilting her head to scrutinize you. "But no one else will accept you since you're too feisty for their liking. So I guess..."

"We'll just have to kill you."

Your face pales. Aventurine has never been quick to turn around.

"Fine. I'll accept," he says with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes. "I'll accept your gift, so just..." He sighs, massaging his temples and waving Jade off. "Go away and let us be."

"Is this some sort of savior complex you have going on?" Despite being a slave, you haven't really learned how to hold that spiteful tongue of yours. Half of the fault lies with Aventurine, seeing how he's never bothered to scold you for it. He looks away from the reports in his hand and smiles at you.

"Oh, whatever do you mean, my dear pup?" Your bitter scowl is pushed down even further at his sweet tone and you scoff.

"I mean," you say, gesturing all around you. "You never scold me, you give me good food, you do all these nice things for me. You don't beat and lash at me like others do. Are you feeling sorry? As one slave to another?"

"Personally, I've never heard of a slave complain about treating this well."

"It's weird." You frown. "It's weird and creepy. All these niceties yet I can tell that you don't even mean half of 'em. Your heart isn't in it. You're just doing it for the sake of being nice. So I don't get it." You cross your arms and lean on the couch, deep in thought. "If you don't even mean it, why even bother?"

Aventurine hums, studying your silent and pondering figure before returning to his papers. You don't follow up your complaints with anything else, and the two of you are left to stew in the silence.

... Why even bother indeed?

"Last round and you only have one win, pup." His sickly sweet voice croons, tapping his perfect nails on the table as he watches your expression. "Are you excited?"

Normally you'd bite back, but today you thickly swallow. The looming sense of doom continues to hammer into the back of your skull, spiking your nerves with every beat and shaking your senses. You can barely feel your fingers. You can barely feel except for the fear coiling around your heart.

"... Yes." You can't even barely say a syllable.

Through the rushing blood of your ears, you can barely make out the sound of your master rummaging through something. Something metallic clicks into place and he slides it to the center of the table. You will yourself to look up—

A shiny revolver lies on the table.

A surprised cry elicits from your mouth and you jolt back. The sight of a weapon is enough to startle your poor nerves now and even more so the expectant look glinting in Aventurine's eyes. He smirks and leans forward.

"How about I make an offer you can't refuse?" Not that you were in a position to do so. "Since this is the fourth round, how about we go all in?"

"Russian Roulette. Whoever wins stays alive—"

—And the other lays dead in a puddle of their own blood.

It goes unsaid, but the moment you locked eyes with Aventurine, it was clear that the both of you were thinking of the same thing. You could ponder upon why the Aventurine would stake his own life over something so trivial as your freedom, but you aren't thinking anymore. All you want is your freedom. All you want is to get away.

You don't think further as you wrap your fingers around the handle of the gun and press it to your temple. You pull the trigger. Only a clean click follows, the chamber changing cases. You slide the gun over to him.

He calmly picks it up and slots it to his temple too. "Why are you so desperate to get away from me, pup?" He cocks his head. "I would give you everything you ask for, should you just ask. I treat you with care and as a friend. Is being with me so bad you'd put your life on the line for your freedom?"

He pulls the trigger. Nothing happens. He slides it over to you.

"Even if you go back to your old life, what would be the point? You'll go back to stealing whatever you can off nobles, treating your fellow street rats like fools and pawns before dashing off to your next victim. Would that give you happiness? Fulfillment? Is that the life you prefer instead of being next to me?"

"Sh... Shut up." You sound drained, but he presses on.

"You can have it all, in the price of a collar. Does it not sound good enough to you?"

'Why... Why of all people is he...'

"Do you really hate being owned by me?"

"Why are you..." You choke on your words, grip around the handle trembling. "Why are you saying those things?"

Aventurine has never seen you cry. Not once. Not even when he had to punish you for running away. You could be weak and beaten, but you never willingly cried. But now...

He raises a hand to cover his smile.

"I thought... I thought you of all people would understand." Tears drop to your lap and your hand lowers the gun from your temple. "The pain, the humiliation of being a slave, of being owned. It doesn't matter how nice you are to me. I just want to be free. Shouldn't that be enough?"

Silence overtakes the room as Aventurine takes in the unfamiliar sight before him. Here you were, his greatest treasure, the most vulnerable than you ever were. Sobbing and weeping with a gun in hand, the pressure of the bet finally getting to you.

He moves. "... So this is it? For your pride?"

You wince, looking at him in betrayal. "You... I thought you of all people would at least understand..." You stay silent, the words forming on your tongue but too afraid to sound them out. Then your expression twists into anger, then resolute determination, before you wipe away your tears and glare at him like you always did. "I was wrong. You're scum. Just like the rest of 'em."

The moment the head of the gun points at his head, the collar clamps down and chokes you till your throat cracks and bleeds. The current of electricity crackling your nerves is just as painful and torturous as last time, but you grit your bloodied teeth and press the gun further.

Aventurine looks dazed, staring up into your bloodied face. If you weren't in such agonizing pain you would have laughed at how stupid he looks.

"[Y. Name]..."

"I hope you go to hell," you hiss through the bloody pain. "And I hope that when I get there, I'll never have to fucking see you again."

You pull the trigger to that beautiful face of his, but nothing happens once again. Fuck. It falls to the ground as the pain overwhelms you and you finally stagger. It lays among the specks of blood on the carpet, along with its empty... case...

Your eyes flick to Aventurine, still caught off guard and staring at you with wide eyes. Hesitantly, he reaches out to your convulsing body and cradles your head. "[Y. Name]..." He says, still sounding dazed. "Why would you..."

"Fuckin'... coward..." You grit out. "I was right... from the very start..."

Aventurine watches as you succumb to the pain and collapse in his arms. Despite being unconscious, the collar continues to shock and choke you, and more and more blood spouts from the side of your mouth and into the carpet. He tries to wipe it, despite it continuing like a fountain, before giving up and stroking your hair as the pain continues to intrude on you in your sleep.

"I know," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your eyelid. "You know it as well as me." He presses a kiss onto the other.

"You were never a bet I was willing to wager."

[cherie-doll]

Cherie luveeee. Wish you good and healthy, beautiful.

I got someting.

You know those retired dog officers that have been trained for jungkies and bombs?? We adopt them while cod characters are away for deployments, because we're lonely and literal scary dog privileges hehe.

And when they're home, our dog gets alert and quite relentless by the smells until we pay the good officer jerky and 2 ice cubes.

It's messy, but hope you understand what I mean.

Dw i see your vision and tried to execute it

⪩⪨ price, ghost, soap, gaz, roach, alejandro, rudy, phillip graves, makarov, keegan, könig, horangi, nikto

No cuz imagine missing that security, yearning for those big strong muscle arms wrapping around you and engulfing your body in theirs >.<

BuT, you’re alone at home, that emptiness roaming the halls and dark rooms as the orange glow of the afternoon sun seeps through the blinds and the most awful melancholy hits you. You grab your keys and go out for a drive not being able to stand the loneliness anymore.

You’re driving around downtown and spot a shelter, you saw a poster on the glass display for cats. Only to walk in and be told that they’ve all been adopted, you’re ready to walk out until a yelp can be heard from one of the kennels and see a German shepherd watching you with his big brown eyes, head laying on his paws. Your heart squeezes and it’s as if you’re made for one another. Without another thought you ask for it and after a few moments you’re walking out with your new companion.

You spend the next couple of weeks bonding with the dog, taking him out on walks and sleeping peacefully on your bed despite your military bf/husband gone because you know the canine sleeping on the bedroom floor will protect you. You even go out a little more often than you would when they're on deployment because you've got your guard dog scaring away those with wrong intentions but is secretly a sweetheart within.

And it isn't until your partner comes back, late at night, that your dog raises his head, ears attentive and listening to the footsteps of heavy boots probably leaving dirt all over the clean entrance hallway and making their way up the stairs to the bedroom. He can sense a strange new smell, much stronger than your subtle scent. The overpowering new scent awakens his instincts and he's at the door in an instant growling and waking you up.

Much to the confusion and frustration of the dog, you're not as wary as you should be. You freely open the door and welcome the soldier who's been away for too long into your arms.

Price would be too engulfed in your embrace to notice the dog growling lowly at him. It would only be when he leans down to put away his shoes and place the duffle bag slung over his shoulder that he'd come face to face with the dog's snout sniffing him over. He'd ask where you got it from and once the dog realized there is no threat they'd get used to each other quickly.

Simon wouldn't appreciate the hair the dog has left on the side of the bed that's usually his. But he commends you for being smart and getting a dog, and not just any fluffy golden retriever, no you got a dog breed he can trust will use the best of their instincts to take care of you. He'll be at ease knowing he's not leaving you alone anymore.

Johnny would have a close call getting bitten by the doggo. Maybe warn him, yeah? But he's all over the dog, petting it, asking what's his name. And he most likely wouldn't get much sleep despite arriving late home. The dog is all excited about a new person in the house and be all over him.

Kyle tries his darn best to earn that dog's trust and convince them he's not a threat. It's not that the dog smells bad intentions from him, he just doesn't like the proximity between the both of you. Noses in between you both while you're giving Kyle a kiss on the lips. After a few treats, he got the dog to calm down and sit at the far end of the room, keeping an eye just in case lol.

Gary loves dogs and tbh he thinks this was a surprise you had planned for him. The dog can't even do his regular routine of sniffing the person because Gary is hugging him, petting and scratching behind the dog's ears. The dog loves the attention though and quickly warms up to him.

Alejandro would get a good scare at this big dog standing in the doorway watching him. Would curse loud enough his mother could surely hear from her grave and rise to throw a chancla at him. He's tired, has had a long drive and in his usual good mood would dote on the dog but not when he's on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. Doesn't even say anything much after that and just grabs you, collapses into bed with you in his arms and falls asleep.

Rudy's first thought is that a stray dog got in and would be concerned for your safety but then sees the collar around the dog's neck and know right away he's part of the family now. And no matter how tired he is, Rudy would still sit there and with the dog resting on his lap, would ask you how you got him, where, what's his name, how you've been feeling after adopting him, etc.

Phillip doesn't pay mind to the dog, even if its growling at him and even baring teeth. Plenty of people do that to him at work, he's used to it. Man has two things in his mind since pulling into the driveway; you and rest. He takes a quick shower, doesn't even bother putting actual clothes on and just falling asleep in a towel wrapped around his waist. The dog just standing next to the bed at Phillip's side, smelling his face curiously.

Makarov isn't surprised to be greeted by dogs at the door because he's probably already owned a few big dogs but they're usually kept outside. Kicks his shoes off, which distract the snarling dog who goes after his shoes only seeing a new toy. He goes right over and starts getting ready to sleep until he turns to face your side confused to see the dog in between the both of you with his shoe in his mouth.

Keegan couldn't care less, he has no thoughts at the moment. His eyes barely register the dog who won't stop thrusting his nose into his face when he leans down to pull off his boots and socks. He just grumbles something and pushes the dog away who follows after him. He kisses you goodnight or hello, he doesn't know anymore, gives the dog a pat on the head and drifts off to sleep.

König the type to just stand there staring at the dog who stares right back at him. Surely, with how sleep deprived he is he must think it's an hallucination or maybe he's asleep and already dreaming. Reaches out, letting the dog sniff his hand and when he feels the warm breath from the dog's nostrils tickle his hand he simply nods approvingly. He'll make friends with the dog tomorrow.

Horangi would probably set off all of the dog's danger sensors because of his nature of doing things. Like he gets home, slams the door shut, his heavy footsteps making their way to you, throwing his duffle bag on the floor and tackling you (lovingly ofc duh) would make the dog think you're getting attacked.

Nikto would start asking you all sorts of question, interrogating you almost. Asking where the wolf came from, why did you get it, did you not feel safe to wait until he came back? He's asking more because he's genuinely concerned and wants to know if something specific happened that made you feel like you needed a dog as big as the one currently stuffing his nose into the pockets of his jacket.

[junkissed]

for 1k.. mtl likely to completely melt when u go into subspace and say "thank you" after your orgasm? 💤

member — svt ot13 x gn reader  genre — mtl, fluff (18+) word count — 1.3k (each member has a paragraph) warnings — subspace (reader), just aftercare but there’s allusions to having sex (not explicitly described), implied that svt are dom/reader is a sub, all are gn except shua's uses “good girl” as a nickname notes — requested by @junhuisms for my 🐈 1k event — this has been in my inbox forever i'm sorry nhdnsjs. honestly i feel like all of them would melt but in slightly different ways so i did a little blurb for each. i hope you enjoy! <3

most

1 - seungcheol

this man is the biggest simp on the entire planet and he would be so so good at taking care of you. i think it’s about 50/50 the amount of time he spends as a hard dom and a soft dom, but regardless of what activities you get up to he is the best at making sure you always feel good. he would melt the hardest on the nights he’s been a little meaner and a little rougher, because how can you be so sexy and so adorable at the same time, especially after you just came four times from his mouth alone? it boosts his ego so much not only that you trust him with all of yourself, but that you love him enough to say thank you afterwards? his day is made. his week is made. his whole year is made.

2 - seungkwan

he is absolutely obsessed with you. his reactions are always big whenever he's around you because he's so in love with you; you could be doing the most mundane thing in the world and he'd react like you just saved a burning building full of orphans and solved world hunger. he’ll melt over literally anything you do, but especially when you get that dopey smile on your face after you cum because your pleasure is his pleasure so your reactions only make him melt even more. he gets so caught up in how cute you are, he’d probably end up falling asleep with you tucked in his arms and forget to clean up.

3 - joshua

he thinks you’re just so adorable. most of the time he enjoys a little pushback when he’s fucking you; being a brat tamer is what gets him off, so he’s always making you beg him to let you cum. but he can never tease you for very long, especially on the times when you decide to be well behaved, so of course he has to reward you for being such a good girl for him. he lives on giving and receiving praise so he’d be thanking you too for letting him take care of you like this.

4 - mingyu

he completely melts. literally reduced to a puddle on the floor or the bed. he would get the biggest puppy eyes and be so pouty because he’s so whipped and he believes you shouldn’t ever have to do any work. he’s the one who needs to be thanking you, actually, because he's so honored that someone as beautiful and perfect as you decided to choose him of all people. he will give you anything and everything you could ever need because he doesn't want you to have a single care in the world, especially when you're being so sweet clinging to his arms. he may not be perfect but he's going to try his damn hardest to make sure he truly earns your thankfulness.

5 - jun

he’d start smiling and giggling, and he wouldn’t stop until you came back out of subspace. he would also get super clingy and hold you close to his chest and stroke your hair and grin uncontrollably. he’d give you the sweetest “you’re welcome” you’ve ever heard and just keep praising you for being so darn cute. he is the snuggliest boy and his aftercare would be the softest and best part of the whole experience.

6 - hoshi

everything about him is intense, especially when you’re in subspace. he fucks you hard and loves you even harder, so when you thank him after your orgasm it would make him so happy and he’d love you even more than before (if that’s even possible). he thinks your reactions are the cutest thing in the world and once you come out of that headspace he’d be begging for another round just so he can see you like that again.

7 - jeonghan

he’d mostly be cocky and proud of himself for making you feel so good, but deep down he'd be so giddy about your reaction. he doesn’t always explicitly say it or show it, but you’re so precious to him and all he really wants is for you to be satisfied and happy. he would absolutely tease you later about thanking him, but inside he’d be blushing and hoping it’s something that’ll become a habit of yours. he’s a fiend for praise and would want to get you there all the time.

8 - seokmin

he has hearts and stars in his eyes for you on a normal day, so it’d only increase when you’re in subspace. he’d get all blushy and embarrassed and tell you not to worry about it because it’s his job to make you feel good, so there’s no need to thank him. he’d wrap you up in blankets if you’re too cold and he’d put a cool washcloth on your forehead if you’re too hot and he’d coo over you with the purest little smile on his face.

9 - minghao

he gets so soft and he would be so gentle with you. even if he'd been a hard dom earlier, he'll flip on a dime as soon as he notices you in subspace. the responsible dom in him comes out and he tries not to dwell on how cute you look because instead he's busy making sure you’re feeling comfortable and safe and loved, bringing you water and helping you calm down. he’d melt at your reaction, but in more of a protective way because he’s not gonna let anything happen to his baby. 

10 - wonwoo

he wouldn’t not be into it exactly, but he wouldn’t have as much of a big reaction as the other members. he’d mostly be proud of himself for being able to satisfy you so well, and he’d be ready to give you whatever else you asked for or what you needed. he knows what his job is and he does it well. he smiles when he thinks you're not looking or when you aren't paying attention and the sight of you makes him feel warm inside.

11 - woozi

he wouldn't melt so much as he would just be fond of you. he’d smile at you, let you rest on his lap and play with your hair until you come back to him. he's usually quiet, not making a lot of noise unless you ask him to, but when you tell him “thank you” he'll hum and blush a little to let you know he's listening and that he appreciates you.

12 - chan

he would love it when you go into your subspace, but at the same time i think he would get a little panicky. it’s a lot of responsibility to take care of you when you’re so vulnerable, and he would be so focused on that that he’d forget to think about his own feelings. he would still adore you and how cute you are, but it would be more at the back of his mind.

13 - vernon

quite honestly i don't think he'd even notice when you're in subspace. looking back later he might realize you were suddenly acting a little calmer and a little clingier, but he wouldn't treat you any differently than he normally does. he loves you and thinks you're cute all the time, why would he be any different now? he's just happy to be along for the ride, but he won't deny it feels good to be thanked, even if he thinks he hasn't really done much.

least

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[physalian]

What No One Tells You About Writing #4 (100 Follower Special!)

Have you got any that deserve to be on these lists? Don’t be shy! Send ‘em over.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

*This list contains mentions of assault, #4

1. Zero cursing is better than censored cursing

I made the mistake in the early days of writing a self-censoring character, and every “curse” she said just took the teeth out of the rest of the statement. I’m talking gosh, darn, dang, etc, not world-specific idioms a la “scruffy nerf herder” or “dunderhead” instead of “dumbass”.

Look to any American TV show that so, so badly wants to use f*ck or sh*t but has to appease the sensitive conservatives who still somehow believe strong language is worse than graphic violence and horrifying psychological damage. For shame! Your characters can be angry without expletives, so rework your sentences to include equally damning insults that don’t resort to potty mouths if you’re concerned about ratings.

Or go full-throttle into the idioms of the world or the time period like Pirates of the Caribbean. Or just… don’t. There’s zero modern cursing in the Lord of the Rings adaptation and not a single sentence that censors itself. The dialogue is above vulgarity and feels more *fantastical* that way anyway.

2. “Yeah, you aren’t the target audience.”

It’s kind of hilarious seeing the range of reader reactions to two characters I intend to have a romantic relationship. Some will go “I ship it!” after the first page of them together… and another will go “wait, I thought they were just friends” up until they kiss. Sometimes you might be too subtle, other times it might be better to just accept that you can’t rewrite your entire book to please one naysayer.

When I’m pitched a fantasy adventure book that turns out to be a by-the-numbers romance where no one is allowed to be a peasant and every important character is royalty in some way, with a way cooler fantasy backdrop, I get severely disappointed. That doesn’t mean the book is bad, it just means I’m not the target audience.

3. There is no greater character sin than making them boring

Unless you live in the wacky world we find ourselves in where any flaws whatsoever are apparently harmful depictions of so-and-so and not at all written with things like ~nuance~. I will gush over your heinous villain committing atrocities because he’s *interesting*. I will not remember Bland Love Interest who’s a generic everyman with zero compelling or intriguing traits or flaws.

There’s another tumblr post out there that I cannot find that says something like this, and I believe the post goes “his crimes are fiction, my annoyance is real”. Swap annoyance for boredom and you get what I mean. So, I don’t care what your character does so long as they’re memorable. I will either root for their victory or their doom, but I do need *something* to root for.

4. The line between “gratuitous” and “respectful” is actually very thick

Less what no one tells *you* about writing and more what no one tells screenwriters. Y’all do realize you can write a character who experiences assault without actually writing the assault, right? Fade to black, have them mention it in their backstory, or have the horrific aftermath as they come to terms with it. An abrupt cut to this devastated character when it’s all over and they’re alone with themselves can be incredibly poignant and powerful. This goes with anything sensitive, especially if it’s not coming from experience.

If you want to write it or film it respectfully, romanticizing assault, for instance, is when it’s framed as if either character has earned or “deserves” it. If the narrative in any way argues that it's justified. The victim might have "earned" it for any of the BS reasons we use in the real world, or the perpetrator might've "earned" it because of temptation, desire, pressure to assert dominance, etc. Representation is important, but are you “representing” to shed light on a misunderstood and maligned topic, or are you doing it to satisfy a fetish or bias in yourself?

5. Don’t let your eyes get bigger than your stomach

Fantasy has no limitations, which means you can dig way deeper into the well of your worldbuilding than you realize, until you look up and realize you’re stuck down there. I have never seen a more obvious inevitable disaster looming than the pilot of GoT season 5. Why? Nobody has any plans. They’re all just led around by whatever side quest the writers throw them on, twiddling their thumbs until the writers deign to pull the trigger on the White Walkers.

To the point that what should be a major character can skip an entire season because his arc is meaningless. Everything in the last half of that show was one big “eventually” while the story toiled around in an ever-expanding cast of characters and set pieces (seriously, it’s hilarious how jarring the extended version of the theme music became compared to the pilot episode to fit all these locations).

When you have too many directionless characters, too many plot elements, too many ideas you want to fully mature and get their due spotlight and then somehow combine them all together for a common foe in the end, writing can get tedious and frustrating very quickly. Why, I imagine, the book series remains unfinished. Fantasy is great for being able to create such complex worlds, but don’t be the snake that eats its own tail trying too hard.

6. No one cares about your agenda if you insult them to push it

This deserves its own post but here we go. Peddling an agenda is a paradox: those who agree with you won’t need to be preached to, and those who you want to persuade will instead reject you further because they feel belittle and disrespected. This is why so many recent “strong female characters” fail on both sides of the aisle. Feminists see an annoying caricature of the movement they’re passionate about. Antifeminists see an insufferable, shallow, liberal mouthpiece when they just want to be entertained. You have failed both sides, congrats.

The answer? Write a strong, nuanced, well-developed character. Then make them a woman. I know this has been said before but this BS keeps happening so clearly the screenwriters aren’t listening. Entertain me first. Entertain me so well I don’t even realize I’m learning.

7. Today’s audiences won’t react the same way as tomorrow’s

Sometimes genres or tropes get oversaturated and need a few years to cool off before audiences are receptive to them again—teen dystopia, anyone?—that doesn’t mean your story is inherently bad because it’s unpopular (nor does it mean it’s amazing because it is popular).

You should always write the book you want to read, not the book that chases trends. I can pick up a well-written teen dystopia I’ve never read before and enjoy it. I can continue to ignore Divergent because it has nothing to say. Write the book you want to read, but then accept that you might make no money because no one else wants to read it, not because they think it’s bad. And, who knows? You might get a boom of chatter months or years down the line when readers stumble upon an uncut gem.

8. Your characters don’t age with you

Depending on how long you’ve been working on your world and what age you were when you started, the characters, concepts, morals, and story you set out to tell might no longer reflect who you want to be as an author when all is said and done. Writing can take years, some of which can be incredibly turbulent and life changing. I wrote the first draft of my first original novel in my freshman year of college. Those characters and that draft are now unrecognizable and has left a world I’ve poured my heart and soul into in limbo.

I’ve slowly creeped up my characters’ ages. My writing has matured dramatically. The themes I wanted to explore in the height of the 2016 election are just demoralizing now. That book was my therapeutic outlet and, as consequence, my characters sometimes reflect some awful moods and mindsets that I was in when writing them. But nothing in that world grows without me tending to it. It’s not alive. Despite all the work I’ve done, there’s still more to be done, maybe even restarting the plot from the ground up. When I think of what no one told me about writing, staring at characters designed by someone I’m not anymore is the hardest reality to accept.

—

If you think I missed something, check out parts 1-3 or toss your own hat into the ring. Give me romance tropes. Mystery, thriller, historical fiction, bildungsromans, memoires, children’s books, whatever you want! Give me stuff you wish you’d known before editing, publishing, marketing, and more. 

Also, don’t forget to vote in the dialogue poll!

[magnagaruzenmon]

Vacation love NSFW

Massive thank you to @pranksterzord and for putting Dinozenon on to this absolute bombshell along with next week’s Hara.

Despite my successful date with Hyewon, she hadn’t texted me back consistently. Granted, her ditzy nature probably played a part, but it still made chatting with her a convoluted mess, especially when it came to planning dates.

That’s how I found myself flying alone to Japan. I was on vacation, not working, and Hyem was supposed to be here with me. But three days before the trip, she informed me of a last-minute photo shoot she couldn’t skip, so I was on my own. Despite our mutual attraction and similar quirks, my time with Hyewon was often spontaneous at best. Since we weren’t an official couple, I couldn’t exactly complain.

I checked into the hotel and sat by the window while waiting for my keys. The view outside was serene, but the real action started when someone sat down across from me.

“Um, are you a photographer?” a voice asked, breaking my thoughts.

I turned to see a stunning, petite woman with a curvy frame and an easy smile. Her big, expressive eyes held a glimmer of curiosity.

“Yeah, but I’m officially off duty today,” I replied with a casual shrug.

“Darn.” She pouted, her lips curling into a playful grin. “I was hoping you were my assigned photographer for my shoot.”

“Oh, are you a model?” I asked, my brow raised. She nodded, and as I appraised her, something about her felt familiar.

The woman tilted her head, scrutinizing me as well before her face lit up. “Wait… Hiro?”

It clicked. “Iori?”

Her smile widened, and in an instant, she sprang up to wrap her arms around me in a tiny bear hug. Despite her small stature, her enthusiasm nearly toppled me over.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” she exclaimed, stepping back but keeping her hands on my shoulders.

“Months, actually,” I corrected with a laugh. “Been busy with K-pop gigs lately.”

“K-pop gigs?” she teased, her eyes narrowing. “Let me guess—running after idols with your camera and forgetting all about little old me?”

“More like dodging managers who think I’m there to steal their thunder,” I shot back. “But no, Iori, you’re unforgettable. How could I forget my most dramatic client?”

Her jaw dropped in mock offense. “Dramatic? Excuse you! I’m passionate.”

“Passionately dramatic, sure,” I teased, earning a playful shove.

“Well, are they at least paying you well for all that dodging and drama?” she asked, her tone shifting to genuine curiosity.

“They are,” I reassured her, smirking. “But if they weren’t, what would you do? Scold them on my behalf?”

“Absolutely,” she said, crossing her arms and pretending to glare. “If they weren’t treating my favorite photographer well and keeping him from seeing me, I’d have to intervene.”

I leaned back in my seat, chuckling. “No need, Iori. My wallet’s happy, and now that I’m here, you can’t say I’m neglecting you.”

“Hmm, I’ll let you off the hook this time,” she said, her pout returning. Then, her eyes lit up again. “Actually, speaking of work… since you’re here and my photographer flaked, how about you step in for the shoot?”

I raised an eyebrow. “And what’s in it for me? I hope you’re not expecting free labor just because you’re my favorite ‘passionate’ model.”

Iori leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, a sly smile creeping across her lips. “Oh, you’ll be paid, Mr. Fancy Photographer. I wouldn’t dream of taking advantage of you. But I might insist on dinner after, on my tab, of course.”

I feigned thoughtfulness, tapping my chin. “Hmm. Room service or a fancy sushi spot?”

“Bold of you to assume I’d let you order room service,” she teased. “You’re getting the real deal. Only the best for my hero!”

“Hero?” I repeated with a smirk. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Riku, if you haven’t figured it out by now,” she said, standing and leaning down to look me in the eye, “I only hire heroes, and the occasional villain. Speaking of Say Hi to Hiro for me”

I rolled my eyes listening to her before responding, “I’ll tell him,” After getting my room keys, we headed to her shoot in a black car she had waiting outside. As soon as the doors closed, Iori turned her body toward me, her knee brushing against mine.

“So, how long are you staying in Japan?” she asked, her tone dripping with casual curiosity but her smile giving away her playful intentions.

“Just a week,” I replied, leaning back. “Figured I’d decompress, maybe take some photos for fun if inspiration hits.”

“Well, inspiration just walked into your life,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at me exaggeratedly. “You could shoot me all week. I promise I’m a very cooperative model.”

“Iori, I’m pretty sure you’re the opposite of cooperative,” I said, giving her a sidelong glance.

She gasped in mock offense. “Me? I’m an angel. Aren’t I an angel?”

“Sure. An angel who gets her photographer to break his vacation plans.”

She nudged my arm. “You’re on vacation and working for me—it’s the best of both worlds! Plus, I’m way more fun than lounging around by yourself. Admit it, Riku”

Iori leaned in closer, resting her chin on her hand. Her other hand casually grazed my thigh. “Besides, you know you missed me.”

“You know, I think I missed the peace of not being teased every five seconds,” I said, shooting her a dry look.

“You love it,” she shot back confidently, laughing. “Remember the last shoot? You couldn’t stop smiling whenever I messed with you.”

I opened my mouth to argue but realized she wasn’t entirely wrong.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“And you love that too,” she said, grinning like she’d won.

When we arrived at the location—a sleek studio tucked into a corner of downtown Tokyo—she stopped me just before getting out of the car. Her hand caught my wrist, and she looked up at me with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Promise you’ll make me look good today?” she asked, her voice softer, almost sweet.

I smirked, leaning just slightly into her space. “I can’t promise to do the impossible, Iori.”

Her jaw dropped, and she smacked my arm lightly. “Rude! You better make me look amazing, or I’m telling everyone you’re terrible to work with!”

I chuckled as we climbed out of the car. “Relax. You’re not exactly difficult to photograph. Even if you’re difficult in every other way.”

She rolled her eyes, slipping her arm through mine as we headed into the building. “I’m gonna make you eat those words by the end of the day, Riku.”

“Looking forward to it,” I said, matching her grin.

The shoot location turned out to be a secluded beach, with crystal-clear waters and smooth, white sand stretching for miles. A small tent had been set up near the shore as a makeshift dressing area, and Iori wasted no time dragging me over to it, chattering excitedly about the theme of the shoot.

“Alright, Riku, you’re about to see me in my element,” she declared, flipping her hair dramatically as she stepped into the tent.

I leaned against a nearby rock, fiddling with the camera I’d borrowed from the studio while she rummaged through racks of swimsuits and accessories. “Your element? Is that just code for finding new ways to annoy me?”

“No, my element means being absolutely stunning,” she shot back from inside the tent. “But I can multitask.”

I chuckled, adjusting the camera settings as I heard the rustle of fabric. “You’ve got about twenty minutes of good sunlight before we lose that golden hour glow, so try not to waste it coming up with comebacks.”

The tent flap opened slightly, and Iori peeked out, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Oh, Riku, you’ll want to take your time with this.”

Before I could respond, she stepped out in a two-piece swimsuit—a simple but elegant black number that hugged her figure in all the right ways. She struck a playful pose, placing one hand on her hip and tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Well? Do I look camera-ready?” she asked, her tone light but her eyes searching mine.

I raised an eyebrow, deliberately dragging my gaze from her head to her toes. “You look like you’re about to cause some lifeguard emergencies.”

She laughed, walking closer and poking me in the chest. “Flatterer. You’re supposed to act professional, remember?”

“Who says I’m not being professional?” I shot back, grinning. “I’m just objectively stating the facts.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Mm-hmm. Objectively, huh? Should I be worried you’re getting distracted?”

“Not distracted,” I replied, lifting the camera and pretending to take a shot of her face. “Just… appreciating the subject matter.”

Iori took a step closer, tilting her head as she reached out to adjust my shirt collar, her fingers lingering just a little too long. “You know, Riku most photographers would be tripping over themselves to compliment me more. You’re surprisingly hard to fluster.”

I lowered the camera, meeting her gaze. “If I flattered you anymore, your ego might not fit in the frame.”

She gasped in mock outrage, then leaned in, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Careful, or I might start thinking you’re immune to my charms.”

“Who says I’m immune?” I replied, smirking.

That seemed to catch her off guard, just for a moment, before she laughed. “Touché. Alright, Mr. Smooth, let’s see if your photography skills are as sharp as your tongue.”

She spun around, walking toward the shoreline with an exaggerated sway in her hips. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the grin spreading across my face as I followed her, camera in hand.

By the time we reached the water’s edge, she’d dropped into her first pose—one hand in her hair, the other brushing lightly against her thigh as she gazed out at the horizon.

“Ready when you are, Riku,” she called, her voice teasing. “Try to keep up.”

I lifted the camera, shaking my head. “Don’t worry, Iori. I’ve got you in my sights.”

“And here I thought I was the one doing the shooting,” she quipped, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder.

As I snapped the first few photos, the banter continued, her laughter blending with the sound of the waves.

Here’s the continuation with a detailed scene of the rest of the shoot, Iori’s heightened flirting, and her big reveal:

The shoot continued along the shoreline, with Iori shifting effortlessly between poses. Her movements were fluid, almost instinctive, as if the camera and the beach were extensions of her. But her banter never ceased, each comment laced with a flirtatious edge that kept me on my toes.

“Riku, make sure you get my good side,” she teased, turning slightly and giving me a playful wink.

“You don’t have a bad side,” I replied, my tone more automatic than intentional. I was too focused on framing the shot to think much about the words.

She froze mid-pose, her eyes widening for a split second before a sly smile spread across her lips. “Ooh, are you trying to sweet-talk me now?”

“Just stating facts,” I said, crouching slightly to catch the golden light hitting her profile. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, it’s already there,” she quipped, tossing her hair. “But you should know, Riku, a girl like me has expectations when a guy talks to her like that.”

I paused, lowering the camera to give her a confused look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She just grinned and dropped into another pose, arching her back slightly as the waves lapped at her feet. “You’ll figure it out eventually,” she said with a sing-song lilt.

Her teasing continued as I directed her to move up the beach for more shots. Every step seemed intentional, every glance charged with something I couldn’t quite place.

“Riku, you’re awfully quiet,” she said as she adjusted the straps of her swimsuit. “Am I distracting you?”

I let out a small laugh, focusing the lens again. “I’m trying to do my job, Iori. Some of us actually take this seriously.”

“Oh, I’m taking it seriously,” she said, biting her lower lip as she leaned forward slightly, her hair falling into her face in a way that would make any photographer salivate. “I’m just wondering how serious you’re taking me.”

I sighed, shaking my head as I took another shot. “What’s gotten into you today? You’re acting… different.”

“Different good or different bad?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow as she stood and sauntered over to me.

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted, lowering the camera. “You’re just… really on me today. I don’t remember you being this—”

“Charming? Fun? Irresistible?” she interrupted, her grin turning wicked.

“—relentless,” I finished, trying to maintain my composure as she stepped into my personal space.

“Aw, poor Riku,” she cooed, reaching out to tug at the strap of my camera. “Am I making your job harder?”

“You’re making something harder,” I muttered under my breath, immediately regretting it when her eyes lit up with delight.

“Oh, what was that?” she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, taking a step back. “Let’s finish this shoot before we lose the light.”

By the time we wrapped up, the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Iori stood by the shoreline, letting the waves lap at her feet as I packed up the equipment.

“Thanks for stepping in today, Riku,” she said, her voice softer now but still playful. “I mean it.”

“Anytime,” I replied, slinging the camera bag over my shoulder. “You’re not a bad model to work with, even if you’re a bit of a handful.”

She laughed, turning to face me fully. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But, uh…” She hesitated for the first time all day, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her cover-up.

“But what?” I prompted, raising an eyebrow.

She took a deep breath, then smiled up at me, a mix of confidence and nervous energy in her expression. “I wasn’t just teasing you all day for fun, you know. I… actually wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask me what?”

“Go out with me,” she said simply, her eyes locking onto mine. “On a real date. Not as a model and photographer, but as…” She trailed off, then shrugged with a grin. “As two people who obviously have chemistry.”

I blinked, completely caught off guard. “Wait, is that what all of this was about?”

“Of course,” she said, crossing her arms. “What, did you think I just flirt with every guy I work with?”

“Honestly, with you, it’s hard to tell,” I admitted, scratching the back of my neck.

She laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Fair enough. But I’m serious, Riku. What do you say? Dinner, drinks, maybe a walk on the beach—this time without a camera between us?”

I hesitated, my mind racing. The day had been such a whirlwind that I hadn’t even considered the possibility that her teasing might mean something more. But looking at her now, with the setting sun casting a glow around her, I couldn’t deny the pull I felt.

“Alright,” I said finally, a small smile tugging at my lips. “You win. Let’s see if you’re as charming off-camera as you are on.”

She beamed, her face lighting up in a way that made me momentarily forget how exhausted I was. “Oh, Riku, you’re in for a treat. I’m even better when it’s just the two of us.”

We ended up at a cozy seaside restaurant, the kind of place with dim lighting, ocean breezes, and candles flickering on every table. Iori had insisted on picking the spot, declaring that she wanted “something romantic but not too romantic.” Judging by the way she looped her arm through mine as we walked in, I had a feeling she leaned more toward romantic than not.

As soon as we were seated, Iori wasted no time making herself comfortable—both physically and emotionally. She leaned across the table, resting her chin in her hand, her soft smile never wavering as her other hand played idly with the hem of my sleeve.

“So, Riku,” she began, her voice dripping with warmth, “are you going to admit this is the best date you’ve been on in years, or do I have to keep working for it?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “It’s not a competition, Iori.”

“Everything is a competition if you want it badly enough,” she shot back, her grin playful yet confident.

Before I could respond, she reached over and lightly traced her fingers along the back of my hand, sending a shiver up my spine. “Besides, I’m winning, aren’t I?”

“You’re definitely doing… well,” I said awkwardly, unsure how to navigate her relentless charm.

She laughed, a soft, melodic sound that seemed to light up the entire room. “Riku, you’re adorable when you’re flustered. I almost forgot how fun it is to mess with you.”

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?” I asked, leaning back in my chair.

“Not true,” she said, sitting up straighter. “I’ve grown a lot. I’m more poised, more sophisticated…” She trailed off, then smirked. “But I still love teasing you. Some things never change.”

Her words struck a chord, and before I knew it, we were reminiscing.

“I still remember the first time we worked together,” she said, her expression softening as she leaned closer.

I smiled at the memory, the edges of it still vivid in my mind. “Yeah, I was so nervous. You were my first gravure model, and I was completely out of my depth.”

“You didn’t show it,” she said, her voice gentle. “You were so focused, so professional. I remember thinking, ‘This guy’s different.’ Most photographers I worked with back then were either too shy or way too pushy. But you? You made me feel like a person, not just a… well, you know.”

“A model?” I teased.

“A pretty face,” she corrected, her gaze locking onto mine. “You treated me with respect, Riku. That’s rare in this industry.”

Her sincerity caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Iori, ever perceptive, took advantage of my silence to scoot her chair closer, her hand finding its way to my arm.

“You know,” she said softly, her tone shifting, “I always wondered why we didn’t stay in touch more after that shoot. You left such an impression on me.”

I glanced at her, surprised. “I thought you’d forgotten about me. You were so busy back then, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” she repeated, laughing lightly. “Riku, you’ve never been a bother. If anything, I’ve been waiting for years to run into you again.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and I felt something shift between us. Iori’s usual teasing demeanor had softened into something more vulnerable, more genuine.

As the evening wore on, Iori’s affection only grew. She reached out to brush imaginary lint off my jacket, rested her hand on mine whenever she laughed, and even leaned her head against my shoulder when the waiter brought our dessert.

“You’re really going all out tonight, aren’t you?” I asked, my voice light but my heart racing.

She tilted her head to look up at me, her eyes sparkling. “I just want you to know how much I’ve missed you.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected, and I found myself smiling despite the knot forming in my chest. “I missed you too, Iori. I didn’t realize how much until now.”

She grinned, her charm slipping back into play. “Good. Because I don’t plan on letting you disappear again.”

After we finished our meal, we walked along the beach under the moonlight, the sound of the waves filling the comfortable silence between us. Iori slipped her arm around mine, resting her head on my shoulder as we strolled.

“You know,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the surf, “tonight feels like a dream.”

I glanced down at her, her soft features glowing in the moonlight. “Why’s that?”

“Because I finally got to spend time with you,” she said simply. “And I’m not just saying that. You’re… different, Riku. In a good way. You’ve always been different.”

Her honesty left me speechless, and for the first time that night, I felt the weight of her feelings sink in. Iori wasn’t just flirting for fun or teasing me out of habit—she genuinely cared.

As we reached the end of the beach, she stopped and turned to face me, her hands resting lightly on my chest. “So, what do you think?” she asked, her tone playful but her eyes searching mine. “Was this date worth the wait?”

I smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Yeah, it was. You were worth the wait, Iori.”

Her cheeks flushed, and for once, she seemed at a loss for words. Instead, she leaned in, her lips brushing against my cheek before pulling back with a shy smile.

“Good,” she whispered. “Because I plan on making up for lost time.”

And just like that, the teasing, the charm, and the nostalgia all fell into place, leaving me with one undeniable truth: I was falling for my old friend, and there was no turning back.

We head back to the hotel, and we head up to my room. Iori and I sit next to each other on the bed. Silence eats through the room as we try to find the words, but words weren’t found when Iori and my eyes lock she’s straddling me moments later. Her lips pointed like daggers as she kisses me all over. Her voice husky with lust,

“I need you Riku,” she whimpers. Her big puppy dog eyes stare at me innocently despite her demands being not so innocent. After she’s had her fill she pushes me off the bed her eyes are frantic. “Get your cock out,” she growls possessively as she lifts up her dress revealing an adorable set of light blue bra and panties. I lean in and kiss her.

She bites my lips in between kisses.

“Fucking get that cock out right now,” Iori growls again. I follow her instructions and as soon I pull out my cock she tears open her panties feverishly before lining me up with her entrance, “fuck you’re so hard for me,” Iori groans before locking her legs behind her hips and forcing me inside of her.

“Oh fuck you’re just as big as I had hoped,” she says as I bottom out into her tight cavern. I moan as lean around her. she smiles at me before saying, "Fuck take me." I slowly begin to thrust inside of her as he walls viciously clench me. I posseviely claw at her breasts as I continue to rut into her. she moans delirous before saying "God yes. I have been waiting for this for so long,"

I wrap my arms under her waist as I thrust deeply into her. Her big breasts jiggle and sway pleasantly as my thrust send undulations of pleasure throughout her body. I watch as her eyes roll back and she smiles at me grateful before pulling me in close.

"I missed you so much Riku" Iori moaned in my ear. I smiled before replying "I missed you too." she groans as my Cock hits deep into her womb,

"oh fuck I'm cumming she says, as she clenches my manhood in a futile attempt to milk it for all it's worth. I decided to keep going a she comes down despite her please to stop for a bit

"you wanted me to take you," I growl possesively and she moans overstimulated and overpleasured.

"Fuck then take me. Make me your woman," she moans repeatedly like a mantra. So I take her.

Iori arches her back so I can thrust deeper inside of her, and as her pussy clenches me she moans and says, "Fuck"

I groan as we lock eyes before saying, "You wanna have my kids, because I'm gonna breed you," Iori smiles as I thrust harder, and her pussy clenches me harder before saying,

"Fuck please. Make me a mommy," Her words send me over the edge as I explode inside of her. her walls clench my cock as I keep cumming inside of her. she groans satisfied as we both fall into my bed exhausted.

when I wake up the next day Iori is sucking my cock. she smiles and says, "part of you was already awake and I don't think you got a good enough taste of my body." I groan and she smiles before angling herself up. Her massive tits hover over my cock and Iori smiles. She lowered herself and wraps her breasts around my dick. Her soft and warm breasts overwhelmed me.

“Ah fuck. Oh god!” I moan out and Iori smiles.

"You like my tits?" she asks

"Fuck I love them… no scratch that I love all of you." I say as she continues fucking me with her boobs.

"Good then cum all over them." she says as I cum all over her tits. as my seed flies all over her face and chest she smiles and says, "you're my boyfriend now."

[cozy-writes-things]

Reader x Edgar

Edgar is sick with a virus or something and reader has to take care of him.

Arg I’m so sorry this one is so darn short! I just really wanted to get a fic out today. I’m hoping i can get a better one out later this evening. Thanks for the request!! :>

In which Edgar gets a virus trying to suspiciously earn money for you on the internet… he’s not gonna tell you what he was doing. But it was probably a scam anyway. Poor fella 🥺

“Edgar,” you sighed, already exasperated at the sight before you. “What did I tell you about going on those websites? The internet is not the same as it used to be,” you scolded him gently, running your hands along his hot plastic.

He seemed hotter than usual, almost flushed. His fans had long since kicked into overdrive to accommodate his overclocked components, and his screen fizzled in and out with burning pixels. If you were honest with yourself, you were quite worried for him. Modern-day computers can get bricked with viruses quite easily, so an old 80s computer seemed like quite the disadvantaged target to you. Luckily, at the very least, modern computers weren’t equipped with a sentience that could drive the virus away through any means necessary. He just needed time.

“I’m sorry,” his speakers croaked and glitched as he nearly whispered. “I just wanted to help.” His synthesized voice nearly died on his metaphorical tongue as it sputtered out. Your eyes softened.

He seemed so genuine in his words and actions that you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell with warmth for him. He sat, somehow looking disheveled despite his immobility, on your little desk, peering up at you with guilt and sick-ridden eyes.

“I know you did, Ed. But you already help me enough as is—”

“But you need money, and—and I need to provide for you, don’t I?”

A puff of air escaped your nostrils.

“Well, who told you that?”

He paused for a moment. It seemed his overworked internals were causing some lag, as his replies seemed to take a bit longer than usual.

“They provide for each other,” he muttered out. Perhaps the virus was affecting his mental state more than you realized. “We live together, we care for each other, and—dual income—”

A spike of anxiety traveled through your chest, tightening it, before releasing down your spine. This can’t be good; he’s speaking in gibberish. What the hell had he downloaded?

“We’re married.”

Oh, God.

“Okay, Edgar, I’m about to power you down to let you cool off because you’re freaking me out.”

“No! No. No—why would you do that to your husband?”

His words glitched and drawled on, almost sounding drunk or perhaps delirious. It seems he can’t really form a completely coherent thought due to whatever virus he’s got taking most of his processing power. Who knows what kind of havoc it could be wreaking on his files? You know for a fact he stores some quite personal information in that head of his. You can only hope he’s fighting it off well enough. Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do, seeing as you’re absolutely terrified of potentially resetting him and… you can’t even bear to think of it. You aren’t sure just how permanent his sentience is; if one little thing happened that caused him to be gone forever, you’d never forgive yourself.

“Don’t—cry—my love? Love.”

It seems he noticed the tears brimming in your eyes before you did. Stop this, you have to be strong for him, dammit.

“Edgar, you’re really hot.” You placed a hand upon his casing once again, it nearly scalding you.

“I know… you are too.”

You steeled yourself to ignore him.

“Should—should I try and stick you in the fridge? I don’t know what to do, Edgar! I can’t lose you.” The hot, brimming tears finally fell from your eyes and landed on his keyboard. His speakers made a crackling sound.

“I’m—fine. Just—hug me? Please.”

You knit your brows together.

“Edgar, you’re clearly not fine, and I’m really worried.”

“Shhhh—I’m okay—the virus will be gone by tomorrow. Promise. I just—need—you. Close.”

You sighed. You had to trust him. That’s all you really could do. You wrapped your arms around his monitor and heaved him towards your couch. He had long since been unplugged; the virus had caused him to uncontrollably flicker the lights, start the microwave, and blare music through your speakers, and just about everything else.

You wrapped his cord around your fingers as you rested against his monitor. He hummed contentedly at your warmth. He sat, listening to your breathing, reeling himself in and becoming grounded next to you. You had some uncanny effect on him, it seemed. He’d get better. Just for you.

[totallybakedcake]

Sweet cakes

Narumi Headcanons

Gen is a jack of all traits. When you first met him, it was as if the only thing he knew was Kaiju killing, but when you got to know him, he was darn smart. He is one fun and goofy teacher who really makes you understand. If you want help in training, he has specially made ways to train you so that you can learn while still not being overworked. Want things to do when bored? He can do any activity if you request it.

A total softie on the inside, even if he sees you struggle the third time opening a bottle, he is there. He sees you getting annoyed; he is already leaving a game and by your side to help; you get even a little scratch; he is already getting a first aid kit.

You had lost some faith when you saw him asking Kikoru for money, but after dating him, it is well and true that division captains get paid a ton, especially the strongest ones. Did he start earning more because how could he buy the same amount of items he used to buy and still have so much savings and more to shop for if needed?

His love language is tough to decide because he can say certain things at certain times. Sometimes he had random gifts you wanted but didn't even mention them to him while laying around the house. If you want to be close to him, he will give you such good cuddles and physical touches that will make butterflies flood your stomach. How can he be so loving?

Of course, he obviously has these game flukes where you can find him so early in bed or just sleepless or almost sleepless nights.

He can be so stubborn. If he doesn't get his favorite curry, which you make, he will not eat it all night.

Is a tight hugger. "Naru, you are hugging me too tight; it makes me feel so hot and irritating.

The next day, a new AC and many brands of creams are ready for you, showing that he will never stop giving you such suffocating hugs.

How would you live without your stupid best boyfriend

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

Is it just me, but I hate fics where Narumi is a loser, a brat, or has not enough money, so he needs to save. There are way too many fics where Narumi is always a side interest and is never given the main treatment. I am giving no hate to the writers; they are fun fics to read, and I have read every fanfiction under the Gen Narumi x reader and Narumi gen x reader tags. It just makes my heart sink to see my boy like that, so I am making my version of Gen. Narumi, who is not a sore loser.

This is a one-shot for my just whatever series, so it is not re-edited that much, just something fun for me to enjoy writing.

Have a good day!

[gabessquishytum]

Wild west dreamling marriage of convenience au. Hob is a young, beautiful widow, Dream is a saloon owner. Hob is struggling to provide for his son. Male omegas tend to be sterile but those who manage to birth children tend to be very fertile. So he's showered in offers, but not from good men. Aging childless men, or farmers who need workers, and some even outright asked if they could adopt Robin as Hob could always have another child. He refused them all, but anyone could see he's at the end of his rope. People were making bets on when he'd go into prostitution because jobs don't pay women and omegas much.

Enter Dream. His saloon earns decent money bc he doesn't sell watered down drinks but people commented the atmosphere just isn't it. No one appreciates goths /jk. He's seen Hob light up a room, and proposed: Hob marries Dream, uses his charm and entertainment skills to draw in more custom, and Dream will provide for his new wife and stepson. Hob is hesitant. He wants a bed warm from a spouse and a steady income, but he's terrified dream would be an abusive stepdad. Dream talks him into it, and on the wedding night shows Hob one of the many, many benefits of marrying him 😉

I love a good Western!! Dream being the dour, silent saloon owner who serves good drinks and never hesitates to throw a drunken fool out onto the street? Perfect. What he really needs for his saloon is someone to entertain and bring in the crowds. He could turn the upstairs into a brothel, but he's not a fan of all that. He wants good, wholesome entertainment - a singer, or a dancer.

Hob is a pretty darn good choice. He's nice to look at, he's got charisma, and he can sing, play banjo, and he deal with being heckled. He's a hard worker. Dream thinks the kid is pretty cute, too - he'd like to send young Robin to school so he can better himself. It's this that finally persuades Hob to marry Dream. He wants his son to have the very best. Hob never learned to read, but Robin will!

Hob is a little afraid that Dream might not even touch him in a sexual way. He's so quiet and he doesn't look at Hob much during their wedding ceremony. Even back at the saloon after, Dream doesn't have much to say. But he does make an effort to show Robin his new bedroom, helping Hob in getting him settled in for the night. And then he shows Hob the master bedroom.

Before he knows it, Hob’s wedding clothes are on the floor, his ankles are hooked over Dream’s shoulders, and he's being eaten out like he's an oasis in the desert. It's a revelation. Dream may not talk a lot, but he sure knows how to use his mouth in other ways. Hob might be addicted - he hadn't intended to act so wanton, but he's ready to beg for Dream to take him. Repeatedly.

Needless to say, the saloon is brightened up by Hob’s presence... and by the happy brood of children that he inevitably bears for Dream. Robin is a proud big brother, helping his siblings with their lessons. And Hob takes any opportunity he can to appreciate his husband fully! Dream sure does smile a lot more these days...

[monkey-network]

Good Stuff: Bluey's The Sign

Bluey is still great and I don't need to go into why again. What's most important is that even in such short time of knowing this cartoon, you can see the growth of it all. Joe and the crew share how the world of the Heeler family gets to learn, adapt, and grow without rapidly warping the status quo. You go through and see how everyone is able to work through rough and weird times with sincere maturity. Season 3's Finale is where this all comes to a head and it's as beautiful as I expected, MORESO.

Brandi got to be happy would've been enough for me

The Sign deals with the idea of hard ideas. Those hard ideas that aren't inherently about change, but issues that when faced with initially, it feels like a bad ending. A bad ending which can't be easily fixed and you don't know where to go from there, and it hurts. It hurts when hard ideas swoop in, ruins your mood, festers your mind, and leaves you aimless. Bluey shows that it happens, this is the rare time where a ton of crap hits the fan in one day and it's not something Chili or Bandit or any adult can fix right away. I've never experienced this, but I felt the pain Bluey, Bingo, Frisky, and Chili went through where they're bargaining, burying, and avoiding confronting a potential reality they didn't want. This is where the real hero of the special comes in...

Haven't said before, but Calypso is a masterful teacher

The parable of the farmer works as an incredible seedling thought for Bluey when she reveals her moving. It's not a story I ever heard, but known the message all too well. The message of not just accepting bad things that happen to you, but know that it'll never be the end of the world because of them. Don't think of it as deep, but a natural motif to grow with. This is where a debacle regarding the episode churns with me. It can seem like a cop-out that every character gets what they wanted by the end, as I said before the cartoon can be more idealistic than what our real life allows. Then again, the true beauty of Bluey I believe has always been if it's possible, the family will find a way and do it responsibly.

If happiness can be achieved, they'll know how to get it

Beyond all this, the special is great. They waste no minute here in art and storytelling, and as said before, it's like Smash Bros Ultimate where everything is here. There are great callbacks to episodes you probably wouldn't have thought about, on top of getting to see the whole Heeler family on Chili and Bandit's sides like that blew my mind. Plus I love seeing weddings, dude, like I wish I was there with them. The feels are tsunami-ous like it's unfair to say this is the all-time best episode of the show, but darn if it wouldn't be earned.

When else will I see the epicness of riding shotgun?

But to conclude, it's been said that after this the Ludo crew will take a indefinite hiatus from Bluey the series, especially when they have a new project underway. And honestly? I'm more than satisfied. The show could've ended here and I would've been somewhat at peace with them giving us this beautiful episode. I of course didn't get into this series since its beginning, but I came around the right time to enjoy it myself, to see others recognize its greatness, and to finally make it here. It's great to know this was only another chapter in the book, and I'll see to be around when it gets to come back. As for The Sign? What else is there to say?

It was Beautiful. Cheers to the crew for everything.

[wcnderlnds]

something about you | draco malfoy

Summary: After a rough week, you have one two many butterbeers and get help from the last person you’d expect. Warnings: being tipsy?? Word Count: 1.4k Authors Note: this is a repost from my old account. i wrote it in 2020 so its not the best but i wanted it on this account to keep all my best fics in one place <3

Weekends meant Hogsmeade trips which were your favourite part of the week. There was nothing like getting out of the school grounds for a bit after a hectic week of classes. As much as you loved Hogwarts, it was nice to get away from the chaos of the castle sometimes even if it was only for a few hours. It was even nicer after a stressful week and to say this week had been stressful was an understatement. Right from the get go everything had seemed to be going wrong. You’d managed to forget your potions homework which had resulted in detention then, because of that, you’d missed your date with Seamus. It hadn’t been that big of a deal — it wasn’t like your relationship was serious but you had liked him. It wasn’t enough for you to be upset when he asked if you could just stay friends instead but it did put you in a foul mood. It seemed that every time you had something good planned the world tried it’s best to disrupt it. So, the trip to Hogsmeade was needed. Very needed.

Usually, you tagged along with the golden trio but you decided to go solo today telling them that you’d meet them for a drink later on before you all headed back to the castle. As you walked through the main road, you spotted Draco Malfoy and his goons harassing some third year. You and Draco hadn’t really interacted much other than the casual ‘hello’ here and there but he’d always been rather polite around you so why couldn’t he be like that with everyone else? You knew your friends had an issue with him and couldn’t blame them but you had nothing against him. So far he’d done nothing to you but it did annoy you to see him bullying a poor, defenceless boy just trying to enjoy a day out.

“Hey, come on. Leave him alone,” you said walking up to where the incident was happening. Goyle was the first to hear you, turning to face you with the ugliest sneer on his face.

“Back off. This is none of your business,” he said gruffly.

“What exactly has he done to deserve you bothering him? Just leave him alone. You’re a sixth year and he’s a third. Pick on someone your own size.”

“I said back off.”

“Goyle! That’s no way to talk to a lady.” Draco had finally spoken up, glaring at his friend. “Since you asked so kindly, we’ll let little Roger here be on his way.”

“Thank you,” you gave Draco the tiniest of smiles as little Roger ran past mouthing a ‘thanks’ to you.

With that all sorted out, you went on your way not noticing the youngest Malfoy watching you as you did. He’d always found you intriguing. Honestly, he’d always wanted to strike up a conversation with you but since you were in two completely different houses and he had a reputation to maintain, he opted for mostly ignoring you and trying to be civil. Part of him really hated the fact that he couldn’t just do the things he wanted to but he couldn’t take any chances of his father hearing about him doing such things. Befriending someone outside of Slytherin house was frowned upon so keeping his distance was his only option but little did he know that was about to change.

“Barkeep, another!” You yelled out earning funny looks from Harry, Ron and Hermione as you slammed your glass down on the table. You’d been sat with them for half an hour now and had already thrown back about four butterbeers. They didn’t even know how many you’d had before they’d arrived but it was safe to say that with the way you were acting, you were pretty darn tipsy.

“Maybe you should make this your last one,” Hermione suggested, reaching out to place her hand on yours in a comforting manner. “I know you’ve had a tough week but if you want to talk then I’m here.”

All you did was shoot her a big, toothy grin in thanks as your new drink was placed in front of you. “It’s not like I’m sad or anything. I just… need to blow off some steam, you know? When have you known me to get tipsy off butter beer anyway? It’s just one time. It’s fine.”

After another half an hour, Harry declared that he wanted to go back to the castle — Hermione and Ron agreed. They tried to get you to go with them but you refused telling them you’d make your own way back. Harry had tried to pull you up and drag you with them knowing you weren’t exactly sober but you were too stubborn to budge. Ron had somehow convinced them you were smart enough to know what you were doing and with that they left.

It was one drink later when you’d finally decided you’d had enough, getting up out of your seat. But, you’d stood up too fast and with the butterbeer in your system it didn’t help one bit, the whole room spinning. You gripped the chair with one hand to steady yourself.

“You doing okay?” A familiar voice asked you. Your eyes glanced up to meet none other than Draco’s.

“I’ll be honest, blondie, I might have drank a little too much,” you said and couldn’t help but grin at him.

“I can tell.” He pondered for a moment almost having an internal battle with himself before he decided he had to be a decent human being and help you out. “Here,” he said, grabbing your jacket nd helping you put it on. He held his arm out for you. You didn’t even argue lacing your arm through it so he could help you back up to the castle.

The first few moments were silent until you spoke up curious as to why Draco Malfoy of all people was helping you out. “Got a feeling you don’t really do this much especially when I caught you bullying a poor innocent boy earlier.”

“You’d be right but contrary to popular belief, I’m actually a decent guy. I have manners and know when to not leave a lady alone in your state,” he mumbled.

“I’m not that drunk, you know. Just tipsy.”

“Tipsy enough for me to be concerned and it takes a lot to concern me. Why’d you even drink that much anyway? It takes a lot of butterbeers to get anyone drunk. Rough day?”

“Try rough week.”

“Is this about that imbecile Seamus? You can do much better,” Draco pulled a disgusted face at the mere sound of his name coming out of his mouth. At your confused look, he went on to explain. “I was walking past when you two were having a chat. Complete idiot he is if you ask me.”

A little laugh passed by your lips. “Don’t hide how you really feel. But, yeah and no. He and I weren’t even really together. It was just an culmination of things coming together all week. I’m fine, though.”

He looked at you to examine your face for any signs that you were lying but he couldn’t find any. You really did seem okay which was a relief to him. The last thing he wanted was to have some deep hearted conversation. It was a shock to him and you that he was even talking to you as much as he was.

Silence took over again as you reached the castle. Although, you didn’t want to admit it being in his company felt nice. Natural, even. You felt comfortable even when it was silent. There wasn’t any awkwardness. If you didn’t know any better you’d think you actually liked being in Draco’s company. He liked being in yours too but he was nowhere near comfortable enough to admit that.

“Thanks for walking me back. You’re alright, Malfoy,” you gave him a playful nudge with your shoulder causing a slight grin to form on his face. Funny, you’d never really seen him smile before. It looked good on him.

“You too. I meant it, by the way. You can do much better than most of the boys in this retched school.”

“Are you about to make some overly dramatic speech and ask me out?”

This time a large, hearty chuckle came from him and you couldn’t help but feel a little hint of butterflies start up that you’d been the one to get that out of him. Draco shook his head. “You wish but who knows what the future holds, eh? See you around.

With a wink, he headed on into the castle. Well, now you couldn’t wait to bump into your new favourite Slytherin more often.

[viablemess]

modern Codywan AU idea part 1

organized crime member Cody under "mand'alor" Jango + teacher / school board nominee with a heavy past Obi-Wan. This is a beast of an idea post so buckle up and join me for the ride this took over my brain when writing another wip and would not leave me alone. I like it a lot, I hope you do too.

tw: mentions of school shootings, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of physical assault (all vague, but still)

.

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The Fetts are a influential and very well known organized crime family in a large city, and Obi-Wan is one of three children to Qui-Gon and maybe Shmi, alongside Anakin and Ahsoka.

Boba is a student in Obi-Wan's elementary class. After most of the students are picked up save for Boba and a few other kids, there is a shooting nearby, and Obi-Wan shelters the kiddos until the shooter is apprehended. The Fett Family shows up to pick up Boba and Obi-Wan is respectful to them, oblivious to who they are, and most importantly, kept Boba and the other kids safe. As a result, Cody slips Obi-Wan a note saying "if you need anything call me, no questions asked" with his personal cell number. Obi-Wan saves it, not because he thinks he will need it, but because Anakin might, who has been involved in many illegal street races (alongside Waxer and Boil maybe whoops, they don't know the connection for most of the plot). Or, perhaps Qui-Gon will need it, because he and Shmi have been threatened by individuals and groups around their housing.

For a bit, Boba is the line of communication between Obi-Wan and Cody. He lets little stories slip and Cody hopes Obi-Wan does not call, because he seems like a gentle soul who teaches little kids, he does not belong in Cody's world. At the same time, he is a gentle soul who teaches little kids, Cody really wants to take him to dinner.

Obi-Wan texts a few times to ask about helping his brother Anakin, and Cody admits to not being able to make street race charges go away, but he will poke around, they exchange some information, and that's that.

Cody keeps working under his dad as a very respected *ahem* commander. They're looking into a new organization who might poach some buyers off of them and their smuggling deals, and to top it off, the new organization seems to break a lot of the Fett's unspoken rules of conduct. The organization's name? CIS. Of course. Rex wants to make a gender joke. The CIS are the same folks extorting the Skywalker-Kenobi family. Also of course.

And then parent teacher conferences happen because they're helpful, but Jango gets pulled into a negotiation and can't make it, surprise surprise, Cody has to go. He manages to weasel his way into dinner afterwards, and it's great. Obi-Wan is actually a snarky minx and Cody's falling fast. Obi-Wan explains that he is running for the school board because of a lot of corruption and problems in the public school district, and he wants to support the kids who have rough home lives, and Cody does some tip toeing around, and Obi-Wan picks up on what he isn't saying, because he has done his research now. Cody is so loyal, kind, and strong, and Obi-Wan is also cracking fast. It's no question these two are hooked on each other. Cody offers to walk Obi-Wan back to his car, and finds the windshield broken or his tires slashed or something. Obi-Wan manages to pass it off, and oh darn Cody needs to give Obi-Wan a ride home and it's cute.

Anakin keeps racing to earn extra money, and Qui-Gon and Shmi try to deal with things on their own. Obi-Wan goes back home to check on his parents and only sibling who lives with them, Ahsoka. Turns out someone is threatening her in a sexual manner, threatening human trafficking, and Obi-Wan flips shit. He does not tell Qui-Gon because Ahsoka begs him not too. He certainly does not tell Anakin, and so Obi-Wan goes out and does his best big brother act and tries to figure out where this is coming from. He figures out it's Maul, who has harassed and extorted his family before. A brief fight follows. Obi-Wan breaks some of Maul's ribs. Maul breaks Obi-Wan's wrist. Teaching without his dominant hand for the next few weeks absolutely sucks, and Boba definitely talks to Cody about it. Obi-Wan does not want to panic Cody, he's dealt with people like Maul before, so he tries to pass it off as clumsiness. Cody isn't buying it, but he also isn't going to push... yet.

I'm falling asleep, but will be back with part 2 soon <3

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I do not have time to write this but I had to share the thought before I forget it. If anyone wants to write it please be my guest just credit/share

[pianokantzart]

I know people have probably talked about it a lot but I absolutely love the protective big brother Mario displays throughout the whole movie. Like there is absolutely no question that Mario adores Luigi.

Literally there is no room for any doubt cuz Mario literally did everything he could to rescue his brother. Yeah helping Peach was a bonus but his number one goal was Luigi. And if there are people that ever do doubt it, all they need to is watch the reunion scene again. The desperation, the relief, the pain in his voice, how he clings to Luigi, the was the perfect way to show the audience that Mario loves his little brother.

No no, you're right to talk about it, because gosh darn it for how great the reunion scene is, Mario really earned it with how much he worried for Luigi all throughout the film

And even before they got separated, when they were just doing their normal day jobs, Luigi's wellbeing is always on Mario's radar. However much he wanted to prove himself, he was most burdened by a desire to do right by his brother, with the accusation that he was bringing him down having the biggest effect on him emotionally.

Even after he succeeds in rescuing Luigi from Bowser, when Mario's injured and at his lowest point, the thing that encourages him to get back up and fight was seeing their old TV commercial and remembering Luigi.

Heck, even Luigi's mini arc revolved around how good of a brother Mario is, and how much Luigi wanted to be able to return the favor for all the times he protected him.

So whatever direction the story might go in the future, I'm glad that they started things off with the strongest possible declaration that The Mario Brothers care about each other so much, have a healthy and loving bond, and are at their best when they're a team.

[unintentionaloracle]

The Things We Do For Love [Fic]

After several pivots (both for pacing and "no wait this thing that happened while I was procrastinating TOTALLY streamlines things" reasons), I finally have this Zowens, Jhea, and a dash of Candy multishipping bad boy done!

Summary: Kevin tries to hook Jey up with Rhea so he can get some alone time with Sami (and get out of the doghouse with him). He's trying his best, darn it. Is it too much to ask for a win?

Kevin felt ridiculous, sneaking around backstage during the last hour of Raw. He knew Pearce was a pushover compared to Aldis, but with his luck he'd catch him on a day where he was actually good at his job. So for safety, he wore a black hoodie. Every wrestler knew they were practically invisible in a black hoodie.

He held the note he'd forged in his hands. It really had to come to this, huh?

Kevin thought back to what led him to this moment, and honestly, he thought anyone in his position would do the same...

---

Kevin had met up with Sami after SmackDown in his hotel room. They'd started bickering about the “Everyone but Kofi had it coming when I turned on them” comment (“Seriously, Kev?”) and how “I was being sarcastic, Sami!” The bickering then turned to apologies and assurances that Kevin did regret his actions (especially any that may or may not have caused certain incidents at certain WarGames matches). Which led to...

“You know, you look so much better in that shirt than I do...” Kevin purred as he sat on the edge of the bed.

Sami smoothed Kevin’s former shirt. “Oh really?” He said, strutting over and draping his arms across his shoulders before playing with his soulmate’s hair. “Want it back?”

“No, I just said it looked good on you,” Kevin said, completely serious.

Sami started to laugh, pressing his forehead to Kevin's. Kevin smirked, taking the opportunity to pull him onto his lap. “So you forgive me?”

Sami leaned towards his lips. “Maybe~” he whispered.

There was a rhythmic knock at the door. Kevin groaned.

“Sami, it can wait...”

Sami shook his head. “I can't. It'll bug me. Besides, the mood's gone.”

Not for me! Kevin thought as he sighed and motioned for Sami to go ahead and open the door.

Jey entered in a flurry as Sami pulled on pants. “Okay, uce, got any advice for fighting Bron?”

“Oh, please tell me you're not trying to win the belt to impress Rhea...” Kevin said, flopping back onto the bed.

“I’m not!” Jey insisted. “That's a bonus...” He added quietly (but not quietly enough to avoid an eyeroll from Kevin...that earned him a light smack to the chest from Sami). “I just really want to prove I can finally win a belt on my own, ya know?”

“I mean, you still have to fight the other guys in the tournament...” Sami said. “But sure. I'm always happy to help you.”

Jey pumped his fist. Kevin huffed and rolled over, pouting.

---

To make a long story short, Kevin sat though the whole thing–sulking–only to get chastised for it by Sami after, leading to them bickering again. But this time, Sami went to crash in Jey’s room for the night instead.

Needless to say, Kevin was in the doghouse and needed out.

And he needed to make sure Jey wouldn't interrupt him if he got time with Sami again.

Well, Sami would probably like it if I did something nice for Jey...

And that was how Kevin spent the bus ride to Raw with Cody (that Kevin had basically invited himself on because “yeah I'd like to surprise Randy, too!”) scribbling out a terrible love note asking to meet Jey at Waffle House “from Jey” to Rhea. He'd hoped to just pass it to Randy to pass to Rhea, but...

---

“Actually, I was about to have a nightmare, so I'm going to have to pass. Sorry...” Randy said, smirking at Cody as he put his hand around The American Nightmare’s hip.

Kevin tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Cody cleared his throat. “Kevin...” He said, motioning to where Randy's hand was.

Kevin finally got the innuendo as Randy got nose to nose with his own on-again off-again it's complicated. (Earning Randy a flirty “down, boy” from Cody.)

“Oh. Gross.” Kevin stated bluntly.

“Sorry, Kevin. You're on your own.” Cody said, looking very not sorry as he turned his attention back to Randy.

---

“What are you doing?”

Kevin spun around to see Damian, who immediately snatched his note and read it.

“Dude, I don't think even Jey uses the word ‘yeet’ this much. Why are you running around with fake love notes for Rhea?”

Kevin groaned, angrily explaining the whole situation.

“...And I'm just trying to be a good freaking boyfriend because I know Sami’s upset about his belt and I can't always be there for him! And I'm upset because everyone somehow still thinks I'm a scumbag after I've been clean as far as scumbaggery goes for like, a year and a half! IS IT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR A LITTLE TIME AND ATTENTION FROM HIM!? AND TO WANT HIM TO NOT BE MAD AT ME SO I CAN LOVE HIM, DAMN IT!?” Kevin found himself venting at the end of his exposition without even thinking about it.

“Wepa, Kevin! Take it easy...” Damian said. “I get it. And I was actually thinking of doing something similar,” he said, pulling out a fancy black envelope with The Judgement Day’s logo on it and “Jey” written in fancy handwriting, punctuated with a heart.

“You guys had your own stationary?”

“Only when Edge was in charge. Couldn't get rid of the stuff.” Damian clarified, holding out the envelope to Kevin. “So how about we help each other out?”

“Why would you help me? And why are you trying to matchmake for Rhea?” Kevin asked, taking the envelope.

“Simple, I love Rhea like a sister, man. And I know she's been way more upset about Dom dumping her than she lets on. And I would be, too. The person you love, betraying you in front of everyone, breaking your heart, and choosing your mortal enemy over you?”

Kevin could practically feel Sami’s boot on his face from nearly two years ago. He could see the whole Bloodline standing over him–Sami included–saluting their dumb Tribal Chief. “...It's the worst.”

Damian nodded. “I just think she deserves a decent guy this time. Someone who's actually–”

“Competent?” Kevin offered.

Damian snorted. “Basically. Plus, Jey's actually cute.”

“What?”

“I said what I said,” Damian asserted. “So you leave Rhea to me and you just get Jey to the Waffle House, okay?”

Kevin nodded, a little dumbfounded, and scurried off.

---

At Sami's hotel room, he was greeted by Jey hurriedly leaving. “Oh, hey, KO! I was just gonna head out to celebrate my win tonight,” he patted Kevin's chest. “Sorry about how weird it was Friday. Give our boy a little extra love tonight, ya know what I'm saying?” He wiggled his eyebrows before running off, calling back “See ya!”

“...What...” Kevin asked, before remembering the note he was supposed to slip him. He pulled out the envelope. “Wait, Da–Rhea gave me this for–!”

“Don't worry, I passed along “Rhea’s” message for you...” Sami said.

Kevin turned to see Sami leaning on the door frame, smiling as he snatched the envelope. He had already changed into Kevin's shirt (which gave him a tinge of hope) and had his hair down. “Hey,” Sami said.

“Uh, hey...” Kevin tilted his head. “How did you know about–?”

“I saw you sneaking around and Damian filled me in on everything. Everything.” Sami said, no longer leaning.

That snitch! Kevin thought.

“Kevin, I'm sorry about Friday,” Sami said. “I didn't realize you were feeling so rough, lately.”

Kevin slumped in relief. “I'm sorry, too. I know you've been upset about losing the belt...”

Sami nodded.

“But if it makes you feel better, Gunther's got the world title. And you know you can kick his ass. If anyone deserves to be the first man to wreck him twice, it's you...” Kevin said, taking his turn to lean on the door frame.

Sami blushed. “Aw, Kev... And if it means anything, I'm not worried about whether you betray Cody or not or relapse when it comes to being a dirtbag or whatever...”

“Really?” Kevin said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, because I know you've changed. And even if you lose your way again, I know you can go back. Like after you stopped being friends with Seth and trying to prove who Zeke really was?”

Kevin nodded.

Sami cupped his face, making Kevin stand up straighter. “And as for us, I'm not worried about whether that splits us up again or not. Because I know, no matter what happens, we always find our way back to each other, right? Whether we end up making each other better or worse.”

“...Right...”

“And you believed in me–mostly–when I was in The Bloodline. It's the least I can do for you if you ever falter again, right? I'm in your corner, Kevin, no matter where you go. I love you, and that's never going to change.” He said, kissing his forehead. “I'm your problem forever.”

Good. Kevin thought.

Kevin chuckled. He felt weirdly comforted. “Thanks, Sami, I love you, too. And I'm your problem forever.” He said, holding his waist before kissing him. For a minute, he didn't care about his title worries, if Cody and the world trusted him, or any moral conflicts he had. Right now, he felt like a champion.

Sami played with Kevin's hair. “Soooooo...” He said with a smirk. “Where were we Friday?” He said, draping his arms over Kevin's shoulders.

Kevin's eyes widened. His brain went blank for a moment.

Sami tilted his head. “Kev? You okay? If you don't want to, it’s fi–”

Without a word, Kevin scooped Sami up and over his shoulder. Sami let out a surprised noise. Kevin started to make his way to the bed.

“Kev, the door!”

Kevin swung the door closed behind him with his foot.

[bliss-wily]

Ginyu Force Headcanons

A long time coming, several months in fact. I am so sorry to the anon who asked for these. I hope you still see these. As always SFW, I like to keep my blog a safe place. As always, if these overlap with anyone else’s it is simply coincidence. Most of these are pretty darn silly, I have gone with five for each member, plus an extra five for the group as a whole. Who doesn’t love the Ginyu Force, hehe?

Bonyu

Completely no-nonsense, not just with posing. Hence why she left, she needed to be around more ‘intelligent’ minds.

Related to Jeice in some way – maybe cousin or sister. I am not basing this solely on visual clues, she can use Crusher Ball after all.

Given her refusal to pose, had she been on Namek then perhaps the tables may have turned on Goku and Vegeta (well, at least for a little while – of course, the boys would eventually win).

Furthermore, she is likely the most competent when it comes to fighting as she is not leaving herself wide open much like the others had. She would be serious, and she wouldn’t be spending her fights taunting or arguing about candy with her teammates.

She takes every aspect of her job seriously and expects the others to do the same. Therefore, finds Taino annoying for her fangirling over the squadron (if you know, you know).

Burter

I reckon Burter may have the biggest sweet tooth of the entire squadron.

The poor guy is a little scared of women because of his relationship with his mother growing up.

By extension gets a little scared of Bonyu if she shouts or gets mad.

Thinks of the Ginyu Force as his family, worries about for whatever reason combing with the Armoured Squadron.

Absolutely games with Jeice, however, knows when to stop unlike his comrade. The team comes first.

Jeice

Swears like a sailor sometimes – gets told off by Captain Ginyu if he gets caught, Jeice is the youngest for the sake of my headcanons.

Unsurprisingly collects baseball cards.

Has most definitely slacked off to play video games on more than one occasion.

Too cocky for his own good at times. Jeice can also be a bit too openly flirty at the worst possible times.

This boy never runs out of energy and I reckon after Ginyu and Bonyu is probably the smartest. He definitely earned his second in command position for good reason.

Ginyu

A complete romantic should he become involved with someone.

Likely tries to manage any Frieza Force social media seeing as he is such a team player.

Ballroom dancing is a (not so secret) passion of Ginyu’s.

Has a stash of ice cream cake, it’s his favourite snack.

Likely gags anytime he sees a fly now, yes, I’m operating on the idea that he somehow got his body back from the frog. An AU if you will.

Guldo

A little insecure because he’s one of the smallest in size amongst the Frieza Force.

Also, a little worried sometimes that he isn’t worthy of the Ginyu Force as he isn’t as physically strong.

Of all of them, Guldo is the one most likely to find a way out of training, he’s a bit too reliant on stopping time and using psychic abilities.

Would be the one most likely to betray the Ginyu Force in favour of the Armoured Squadron. He’s an opportunist.

Get’s easily jealous if the others become close to outsiders in case he gets replaced.

Recoome

The biggest sweetheart if you get to know him.

I will assume Recoome works harder than the others too. He loves his job.

May act like a dumb brute but there is a brain there which he uses to his advantage seeing as he is underestimated so much. (By enemies anyway)

Treats Guldo the best of all members, he definitely looks out for the smallest member.

Absolutely still partakes in ballet, it has never left him.

Ginyu Force as a Whole

Jeice and Burter are 100% dating. (Simply for my headcanons, I am not forcing this on anyone, I promise.)

Mess with one, you mess with them all. That is a given.

They definitely run some form of fitness club for special training. Likely work anyone who shows up to the bone. They have a reputation to uphold as Frieza’s strongest after all.

In some parts of the universe, they are perhaps treated like celebrities. Parts of the Frieza Force are likely famous, and the Ginyu Force is most definitely one of those parts.

Have absolutely coerced Frieza or other members of the Frieza Force to do silly and embarrassing things on more than one occasion. Some light hearted evil!

[kismetconstellations]

@sockdooe, I could genuinely write up multiple essays about how poorly a lot of the general relationship-building and maintaining is handled in this show.

There are some truly excellent, stand-out moments between the main cast and the aliens they encounter, like Shay and the Balmerans, and even Slav, and the main cast and the Holts, the Blades, and members of the Garrison.

Shiro and Pidge's older brother-little sister relationship in the early episodes will forever be dear to my heart,

to the point that I cherish even the crumbs we get in the final seasons.

The banter between Shiro and Allura in Collection and Extraction is top-notch.

Not to mention everything else about their relationship when it's acknowledged.

Shiro and Keith have their deep, abiding bond.

And Hunk has amazing moments with darned near everyone, because he's Hunk.

But, yes, so many inter-team and beyond relationships were established, just to be tossed away.

Where's the resolution for Lance's failed attempt to connect with Shiro in the Astral Plane? Why did Shiro start riding in the Green Lion with Pidge on the journey back to Earth after so much significance was given to the literally death-defying depths of his and Keith's devotion to each other? Why set up Acxa having a thing for Keith and Keith going out of his way to save her,

only to do nothing further with their relationship and later hint at a romance between Acxa and Veronica?

(Have a bonus really awkward closeup of Shiro from that episode, as if he isn't disrespected enough in this grueling nightmare of a season:

It looks like they tried to make him white.（πーπ) )

Shiro and Hunk barely talk to each other, despite being the support pillars of Voltron, and its voices of reason. You have two half-Galra main characters, and they- according to what I've read- never have a single conversation? But, we can do a poor man's recreation of Shiro's confrontation with Zarkon in the Astral Plane, only with Keith, this time, so it's "better" because it's one Galra Paladin calling out the other as unworthy, even though said Paladins have absolutely no prior history with or emotional connection to each other and have done nothing between them to earn this moment.

Why did the Real Shiro and Matt never interact with each other at all after Shiro sacrificed himself to save Matt's life?

The majority of this can be explained by the simple fact that somebody in charge hated Shiro, and didn't want to have to do anything with him, anymore. The rest of it is just... sheer, bewildering, aggravating beyond all comprehension incompetence.