#slight teasing

[aventurineswife]

may i please request sampo (you choose the other characters) with a dog hybrid gender neutral reader? in the sampo one, can the reader fall asleep on top of him in dog fashion?

Lay Your Head, Rest Your Heart

Tags: Sampo x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Dog Hybrid!Reader, Fluff, Found Family, Light Humor, Comfort, Slow-Burn Romance, Protective (?).

Warnings: Minor gambling references (Aventurine's part), Slight teasing and playful banter, Fluffy physical affection (ear ruffling, head pats, cuddling)

Sampo strolled through the bustling marketplace, his jacket fluttering with every smooth stride. His eyes gleamed with mischief, darting from stall to stall, calculating potential profits. Business was good, but it got even better when he had an adorable partner in crime—or, rather, a partner in occasional chaos. That partner was you, a loyal, dog hybrid who, despite your wagging tail and puppy-like energy, often brought him a surprising amount of good fortune.

“Sampo! Look at this!” you barked excitedly, holding up a shiny trinket you’d found at a nearby stall.

Sampo chuckled, running a gloved hand through his hair. “Nice find, pup. But remember, the best treasures aren’t the ones you buy—they’re the ones you ‘acquire.’” He winked, leaning down to ruffle your ears.

You scrunched your nose but didn’t argue. He had a point. Sampo always knew how to turn a simple situation into something profitable—or at least amusing.

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. The marketplace had begun to quiet down, but the day’s adventures left you utterly exhausted. You let out a long yawn, your tail wagging lazily behind you.

Sampo glanced over, smirking. “Tired already? You’re supposed to be the energetic one!”

“Shut up.” you muttered, plopping down on a soft patch of grass.

Sampo joined you, leaning back on his elbows. “I’ve got to admit, you make the day a lot more interesting. Not every merchant can say their partner chased off a Silvermane Guard by barking at them like a mad pup.”

You grinned, your sharp teeth glinting in the fading light. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Before Sampo could reply, you crawled over and flopped onto him, your head resting against his chest. He froze, blinking in surprise.

“Uh…not that I mind, but what’s this about?” he asked, though his voice was softer than usual.

“Comfy...” you murmured, nuzzling into his jacket. Your ears twitched slightly, and your tail wagged a couple of times before going still.

Sampo sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Of course you’d use me as a pillow. What else am I good for, huh?”

Despite his teasing tone, he didn’t move. If anything, he adjusted his position to make sure you were comfortable, even if it meant lying awkwardly on the uneven ground.

As you drifted off, Sampo stared up at the starry sky, the usual glint of mischief in his mint-green eyes replaced with something softer. He reached out with a gloved hand, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

“You’re a weird one, you know that?” he whispered, though there was no malice in his tone—just quiet affection. “Not many people trust ol’ Sampo enough to sleep on me. Guess you’re either braver or crazier than the rest.”

The gentle rhythm of your breathing was his only response.

For once, Sampo didn’t think about profits or schemes. He simply lay there, enjoying the warmth of your presence and the rare tranquility that came with it.

“Guess I’ll let you off the hook this time,” he murmured, closing his eyes with a faint smile. “But don’t expect me to make this a habit, pup.”

Yet, even as he said it, he knew he wouldn’t mind if you did.

Aventurine adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, their rose-tinted lenses catching the low light of the casino floor. The clinking of chips and the whirring of roulette wheels filled the air, but none of it distracted him. With a flourish, he placed his final bet on the roulette table, the corner of his mouth lifting in his signature confident smirk.

"Let’s make this one count." he murmured, leaning back as the wheel spun.

Beside him, you—his ever-loyal dog hybrid companion—sat cross-legged on a velvet bench, your tail wagging idly as you observed the chaos of the casino.

“Do you ever get tired of this?” you asked, your ears perking up as someone cheered in the distance.

Aventurine chuckled, turning his gaze towards you. “Tired? Of course not. The thrill of the gamble is what keeps life interesting, darling.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled nonetheless. “You and your dramatic flair.”

“Flair is what makes me charming.” he countered, his voice dripping with amusement.

As the roulette wheel slowed, the ball clicked into place. A chorus of gasps rippled through the table as Aventurine’s number came up. He leaned forward with a mock gasp of his own, gathering the chips with practiced ease.

“Would you look at that? Lady Luck smiles upon me once again.” he said, sending you a wink.

You shook your head, unable to hide your grin. “You’re unbelievable.”

The casino emptied as the night wore on, leaving the two of you to wander back to Aventurine’s suite. It was as extravagant as one would expect from someone like him—gold accents, plush furniture, and a panoramic view of the glittering cityscape below.

You flopped onto the oversized couch, your tail thumping softly against the cushions. “I’m exhausted. How do you have so much energy after all that?”

Aventurine removed his choker, draping his coat over a nearby chair. “It’s all about pacing yourself. Though, if you’re tired, I suppose we could call it an early night.”

“Early? It’s nearly morning!” you teased, stretching out with a yawn.

He chuckled, grabbing a blanket from a nearby cabinet. “Fair enough.”

You watched as he settled into an armchair, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he sorted through the chips he’d won earlier. The sound of them clicking together was oddly soothing, lulling you into a sense of calm.

Before long, you found yourself sliding off the couch and padding over to him. Without a word, you curled up on his lap, your head resting against his chest.

Aventurine stiffened for a moment, caught off guard. “Comfortable, are we?” he asked, his tone a mix of amusement and fondness.

“Very...” you murmured, already half-asleep.

He sighed, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he draped the blanket over you both. His fingers absently brushed through your hair, his usual bravado replaced with quiet contentment.

“For someone who claims I’m ‘unbelievable,’ you seem to trust me an awful lot.” he mused, his voice low.

You didn’t respond, your breathing slow and steady as sleep claimed you.

Aventurine leaned back in his chair, his eyes softening as he gazed down at you. In all his years of gambling, scheming, and taking risks, he’d never expected to find someone who made him feel this… grounded.

“Not bad for a gambler’s companion...” he whispered, the usual sharpness in his voice replaced by something gentler.

The roulette of life kept spinning, but for now, he was content to stay right where he was—at least until morning.

[maiiruo]

20 minutes.

nsfw ahead !

nanami was always precise with his time at work, but when it came to you he would drop anything n everything for whatever you wanted.

4:40pm. only 20 minutes until he got home. 20 minutes until you would feel his hands on your waist, your thighs— you could wait 20 minutes, right? wrong. 4:45pm and you’re knuckles deep into your cunt, begging for something — someone, you knew wasn’t home for another 15 minutes. bringing your phone up to your two toned lips, you press the little mic icon to let him know how bad you missed him. how bad you needed him back home.

whimpering through words, you finally click send.“f-fuck— ken p-please… please come back baby..”

kento was always punctual, replying to you in almost a minute — “5 minutes. I’m on my way.”

those 5 minutes felt longer than anything. your eyes on the door, waiting for his car to pull in the driveway, his keys jingling at the door— “baby? where are you?” loosening his tie as he opened the door, he practically bolted for your room — he was just as impatient as you. you knew he left work early, only 10 minutes, but you knew he would use that against you, he knew that’s what you wanted. his figure was so much bigger than yours, shadowing you as he stood over your bed; “you know my shift wasn’t over.. you couldn’t wait 5 minutes?” speaking in such a low voice, yet he still sounded firm in his question. almost shying away, you answered so silently it could be taken as a whisper. “i missed you so so much, baby, i’m sorry” his tired eyes shamelessly undressing you.

condescendingly, he refused to acknowledge your desperation and took his seat at the end of the bed. “oh baby.. you know better than to interrupt my work just because you want me to ruin you, don’t you?” almost immediately, you felt the blood rush to your face and the slick between your thighs grow. watching him through your doe eyes, he beckoned for you to stand between his legs, embarrassing you as you stood with nothing but his shirt and pink, lacy panties. “clothes off, baby.” his voice much more demanding than it was before. almost stalling for time, you fiddled with one of the sleeves of his work shirt; “but—” “but what? you were so brave over the phone, sweetheart. where’s that confidence gone?” you knew you wouldn’t win at this, so, reluctantly, you took off the shirt you were wearing and waited meekly, his eyes scanning your body of the marks he left the last time. “panties too, come on.” you knew what he meant, yet you also knew how humiliating this was — even though the wetness dripping down your thighs said otherwise.

finally standing naked in front of your lover, his hands ran over your waist, grabbing at your hips to help you straddle his thighs. “did you try to cum without me, baby?” in a low whisper, he spoke against your ear so soft you could feel his breath on your skin. nodding gently, you replied in an almost silent voice; “mmhm…i’m sorry ken” his hands, remaining on your hips slowly rocked your cunt back and forth against his thigh, your breath hitching from how bad you waited for this. you wanted more, you wanted that full feeling you couldn’t replicate yourself. “poor baby, interrupting my work just so you could fuck yourself on my thigh?” his voice falsely sympathetic, you tried to reply through muffled whimpers, pleading for him to go faster. “p-please—want more, want you” begging to no avail, your hips bucked faster, your body almost beseeching you to cum while nanami’s hands overpowered you, forcing you to stay at an agonisingly slow pace. in between placing kisses on your chest, he controlled you so easily. “slow, baby. you wanted me here, i’m going to take my time.” you could see the tent in his work pants grow, precum slowly seeping through leaving a wet patch where, he too longed for your pretty cunt around his cock.

what felt like forever finally passed, his hands granting you permission to speed up, to use him for your pleasure. you palmed his cock, dragging your thumb over the patch his precum stained, his pretty lips parting to let out small, low moans from how bad he yearned for this. “f-fuck ken..please, ‘wanna cum, please let me cum, baby.” soft lips that wandered your dark skin— he was enamoured by you, yet he still wanted to tease you for your desperation. his hands coming to a halt, he forced your hips to cease, his eyes meeting yours. “oh, sweetheart, i never said we were finished.” your thighs practically trembling, you looked at his eyes in confusion while he looked at you with condescending sympathy.

still in his work clothes, he lay you on your back to give you what you couldn’t wait 20 minutes for, unbuckling his belt and finally revealing how he needed you just as much as you did.

“legs open, baby. show me how much you missed me.”

don’t steal, translate or repost my work

©maiiruo

[karimationkat]

Tsukasen kissing in the hotsprings because why not? Kgkghkkhkhkgkg

[tea-darling1]

Something something art post i suppose

In the prev one i said i may properly render / colour the helen hc design sheet and i got BORED so i did it except the motivation ended the moment i had to render the outfits so lets pretend that i purposefully left them like that :3 eugh the fandom is dragging me back kicking and screaming atm

i swear if the quality goes down ill flip out!!!!! Because my handwriting is unintelligible, heres a transcript of all the hc notes i made on the design: Highlighted information: Name: HELEN OTIS DOB: 1.10.1980 (1stoct) Age: 23 (2003) Pronouns: He/They/It (doesnt label/recognise this) Sexuality and Gender: Agender, biromantic, greyasexual (doesnt label/recognise this) Japanese, german, british. Relationships (associated typically with): the puppeteer, judge angels, ej, liu, hobo heart, nina 1st bust & side profile: Resting bitch face, 2c-3a curls <3 (im bad at drawing curly hair </3) baby side burns (he can't grow facial hair), Hooked/roman nose & prominent cheekbones, soft lips and jaw though. 2nd bust, mask and eye: tones of moles, his mask hooks under his chin, mesh eye sockets, leather straps, "THE GUY!!", monolid & slight downwards droop, greyish blue eyes (point to little creature) this kinda stare. Outfit 1: General/normal attire, typically what he 'works' in, usually what he wears his mask with, crazy long black gloves for multiple reasons: 1. sensory issues 2. prevents traces 3. to be mysterious 4. he likes them :), idk why his legs are so long </3 he's not that tall please, 5'8, chunky combat boots because i said so, (kinda) skinny jeans!!, some random rag idk he's an artist he needs it. trust, the turtleneck is SLEEVELESS (so he doesnt overheat.. no..other..reason...), iconic smiley face pin, Outfit 2: work/art outfit, usually what he wears when he's 'creating', he a bit beefy, comical rubber gloves, typically works in private because of the amount of skin exposure, (slight blue), is that blood or paint who knows? Outfit 3: formal/public, typically worn w/o his mask , in public scenarios, very formal, proper neat, looks smaller bc his chunk boot platforms were snatched, dress shoes i fear, scarves are also an option. (ANATOMY NOT ACCURATE!!)

[somegrumpynerd]

The funny thing about dadmare is that Nightmare has no idea what a parent-child relationship is like because he effectively didn't have one. So when someone tries to tease him by saying he's being a dad and he denies it, he's being 100% honest

[wishfuldivine]

I need me some more Gaz being a fucking insufferable Omega when none of his Alphas give him attention?

I can see him being the more annoying type that riles them up instead of the whiney and absolute begging.

With Price, he'll be such an insufferable brat who will hide his cigars with not one ounce of regrets or care.

With Soap, he'll steal all of his hair gels so he couldn't do his stupid Mohawk that he so secretly loved to pull on despite anything.

And with Ghost, poor lieutenant. He would use all of his teas right in front of him. Have the audacity to even hum and nod in approval to the delicious taste.

And the Alphas? After DAYS of their Omega doing that, they still don't break or give a shit. So Gaz has to pout and deal with it.

[10piecechickenmcnugget]

(hi chat. i wrote a fic about oli cameo-ing in wild life. it’s about 1k words. lizzie jimmy and scar are in it. it gets a little sad. i hope you enjoy it)

Oli snickered at the absolutely dumbfounded expression currently being given to him by none other than Jimmy Solidarity.

“Hiya Tim. Did you miss me?”

Jimmy continued to stare with his jaw halfway to the void. “What- you- you’re not- how are you here?”

Oli just grins, sitting back and crossing his legs with what he hopes is an annoyingly smug expression. Judging by the way Jimmy’s eyes flash, it’s working.

“I’m just that special. Being practically god and all, I thought I should pay a visit to my sweet sweet boy.” Oli waves a hand, tilting his head. Jimmy looks cute when he’s confused.

“Does Grian know you’re here?”

Oli grins. “Who do you think invited me?”

If Jimmy wasn’t in shock before, he certainly is now. “Grian. Brought you. Here. To his death games.”

Oli swings his legs absently. “Someone had to write a song for that little trivia bot. 2 of them, actually. In one day. Not sure how I pulled that one off, not to mention the snails.”

Jimmy dissolves into a fit of nonsensical babbling, and Oli can’t help but it burst into laughter again. While Jimmy processes this, Oli decides it’s about time he takes a look around. He hops off the block he’s sitting on, spinning around slowly to take in Jim’s base.

It’s cutesy, he decides, and almost painfully familiar. The cherry theming, the hilltop location, the giant animal statues. It always comes back to death and canaries, somehow. Oli can’t figure out how Jimmy keeps getting away with this. He walks slowly, dramatically sweeping around to take everything in. Listening to cherry petals shift under his feet and trying to drown out the phantom sound of explosions in his head. Jimmy has stopped talking, and is staring at him as he wanders. Oli flashes him a smile. Jim just looks apprehensive.

Oli doesn’t blame him. He’s not supposed to be here, even by Grian’s standards. And mathematically, Oli has an infinite amount of kills per death games he’s been in. He’s not a player, and as such he can’t die. He’s immune to Grian’s wildcards and rules. He’s practically a god, in a way, which is not really something he’s ever experienced. It would be more fun if he was allowed to stay. Maybe he can write another song.

Deciding there isn’t much more to look at, Oli turns fully to Jimmy. It’s uncomfortably quiet. Oli is about to make another quip when the silence is broken.

“Oli? What on earth are you doing here?”

If Oli thought seeing Jimmy messed with his head, hearing Lizzie calling out for him is like a shot to the brain. Even so, he can’t help but smile as he turns around to meet her.

“Lizzie!”

She runs up the hill towards him, slightly out of breath, transparent wings twitching in an all too familiar way. She pauses a few paces away, shooting him a grin.

“I knew those stupid snails sounded familiar. Joel recognized you first. How did you even get here?”

Pretending the mention of Joel doesn’t make him want to explode, Oli just shrugs. “Grian invited me. Voiced some snails, made some songs, and thought I’d come by and cause problems before he kicks me out again.”

Lizzie rolls her eyes. “To be honest, I’m surprised he hasn’t.”

“Well, I am technically God now, so…”

“Is that right.” Smoothing out her dress, Lizzie moves closer, forming a small triangle with the three of them. Jimmy still looks befuddled and Lizzie has that same mischievous glint in her eyes she always does, and Oli is suddenly very homesick. Is that even the right word? Home is where the heart is, or something.

“Yep! 100%, genuine, certified, bona fide God. Can’t die, and my snails wreaked havoc like none other.”

“You’ve got me there.”

“So,” Oli claps his hands together. “This is your guys’s base? Very cherry-esque. Draw inspiration from anyone?”

Lizzie puts her hands on her hips. “Hey! Pink has been my thing since we were kids. Cherry biomes were made for me. I’ve been making cherry wood houses since before your stupid hog.”

“How dare you!” Oli gasps, putting a hand over his chest. “My hog was not stupid, he was magnificent. And pink was my thing too! I had pink hair for a while there, remember?”

“Yeah, cause of me! I’m the only reason you dye your hair at all! And besides, you don’t even die it pink anymore after-”

Lizzie cuts herself off suddenly, eyes wide, and Oli freezes in place. Jimmy looks taken aback by the sudden tension, looking nervously between the two of them.

After what feels like years, Oli exhales. “… Yeah. Alright. Pink is your thing.”

“Oli…”

Oli turns around suddenly, walking purposefully towards the large birds marking the front of their base. He adjusts the little green halo floating just above his hair, which is notably not pink. “These are cute.”

Lizzie, forever hyperaware of Oli’s incessant need to avoid his problems, just sighs. “Aren’t they?”

And just like that, it never even happened. Jimmy eventually realizes he’s never getting any answers, and joins in the banter, helping Lizzie take Oli on an official tour of their base. Eventually Scar returns, resulting in a 20 minute long argument that ends with Lizzie half dragging Oli down the hill and towards the cave BAM has claimed as their own. Lizzie bitterly shows him where her snail first made an attempt on her life, and Oli’s apology is ruined by the fact that he can’t stop snickering.

Eventually Lizzie drags him back up to the surface, and all too fast for Oli’s liking it’s nightfall. Scar unhelpfully comments that they’ll need their sleep to deal with whatever horrors will happen next session, and that Grian will probably be on Oli’s case soon.

Reluctantly, Oli says his goodbyes. And if he hugs Lizzie just a little too long, she doesn’t comment on it. And if his heart isn’t quite in the jokes he makes at Jimmy’s expense, no one says anything.

He doesn’t really know where he’s going. He’s not entirely sure how he got there at all, to be honest. He supposes he’ll have to track down Grian and ask. He doesn’t want to leave, he’s getting awfully tired of finally finding his friends just to lose them again.

Maybe Grian will add him to the next season.

[mrsoharaa]

ᯓ⁠ ❥ Miguel being too cooped up in his office? sweetheart, wear one of his long, white fancy button ups (that you love to wear around your shared apartment, keep the first three buttons undone- trust me) wearing only that and your pretty laced panties (but if you're feeling a bit more petty, wear those gorgeous newly purchased sheer stockings that connect with the matching garter that you had just bought for special occasions!), and portal your way into his office dressed just exactly like that. Strut your hips a bit as you walk, taunt him. Tease him. Make his ass drool and work at whats he's missing (you) out on, for being so encased with his job.

And if that doesn't work (which I'm sure it will hehe) then force your way inbetween his beefy legs, prop yourself onto his desk directly in front of him and spread your pretty legs before him. Watch him immediately silence himself, aimlessly gawking at you with peering eyes scouring hungrily over you. ♡ ୨ৎ

[aventurineswife]

Reader speaks sometimes in their native language when they are frustrated/excited/in the middle of a rant switch languages. And it intrigues Aventurine, who secretly starts to learn the language too, just to listen in secret.

One day, maybe during a light argument between them, reader drops a cuss word that does translate to "f*** you" and aventurine takes this moment to reply, while grinning from ear to ear "oh? Youre offering for once?"

Stunned silence.

Reader starts freaking out in their native language while aven just stands there with that shit eating grin.

Established relationship. No, they never done the deed, but he wanted to catch reader by surprise, and he did. He so proud of himself.

“You think you’re clever, but just remember: I’m one step ahead”

Summary: You and Aventurine are sharing a relaxed afternoon, and a playful argument about his so-called "inspirational mess" turns into teasing banter. When your frustration leads you to mutter in your native language, Aventurine—who’s secretly been learning it—seizes the chance to tease you in return. Caught between embarrassment and laughter, you realize he’s been one step ahead, and Aventurine is all too proud of himself for the surprise.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Established Relationship, Fluff, Playful Banter, Lighthearted Argument, Language Barrier, Teasing, Humor.

Waring: Slight Swearing.

A/N: THIS IS SUCH A FUNNY REQ!! I LOVE IT HONESTLY!! 🤭 (As someone's who's native language is not English, this is very funny and cute at the same time🥹🤧like imagine your s/o learning your language just so you can communicate freely or learn what you have been saying 🤭🫶💖🥹)

You’re both lounging around his suite on a lazy afternoon, a stack of paperwork untouched as the conversation somehow spirals into an easy back-and-forth about each other’s quirks. It’s all lighthearted and playful, but it doesn’t take long before you’re teasing him for his incredibly deliberate way of never quite cleaning up his cards and dice, always keeping them just a bit scattered, “for inspiration,” he claims.

“Inspiration, huh?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “Well, maybe my inspiration would be higher if I didn’t trip over your cards every time I’m here.”

Aventurine raises his hands in mock surrender. “I’m telling you, darling, you can’t rush art! It’s all about atmosphere.”

“Atmosphere?” you scoff, switching to your native tongue as you get more animated. “More like a mess that you just want me to overlook!”

He smirks, feigning offense. “My ‘mess’ is a masterpiece—unlike someone’s habit of muttering incomprehensibly every time they don’t get their way.” he teases, with that knowing look in his eyes. He’s clearly waiting for you to switch languages again.

You roll your eyes, slipping into your native tongue almost instinctively. “Maybe if you weren’t so infuriatingly full of yourself, I wouldn’t have to mutter at all.”

Aventurine chuckles, his grin only widening. “Full of myself?” he repeats, pushing back just enough to keep the mood light. “Look who’s talking—every time you walk into this room, you practically take over.”

“Take over? Oh, please,” you huff, slipping deeper into your language as you mutter, “if anything, I’m saving this place from turning into a pigsty.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly waiting for the right moment, and finally, you let slip a particularly choice phrase—a cuss word that, in your language, translates a little too directly to “fuck you.”

He seizes the opportunity, his face lighting up with a triumphant grin. “Oh? You’re offering for once?”

The world goes still. You blink at him in shock, the realization dawning as your mind scrambles. He understood you—completely. Your cheeks flush, and before you can help it, you’re sputtering in your native language, tripping over words and trying to make sense of how he even learned it.

Aventurine just stands there, that infuriatingly smug grin plastered across his face, arms crossed in satisfaction. “Surprised?” he drawls, clearly reveling in your stunned reaction. “Turns out you’re not the only one with hidden talents.”

You start freaking out, half-laughing, half-ranting in your language, swearing at him all over again. He just chuckles, standing back and drinking it all in, proud as ever for catching you off guard.

“Oh, please,” he says with a chuckle, “keep going—I’m starting to enjoy these rants.”

You cover your face, torn between embarrassment and laughter, and finally shake your head. “One day, I’m going to get you back for this.”

He leans closer, his voice low and challenging. “I’ll be waiting, darling.”

[shehungthemoon]

enter sandman came on the radio and i immediately regressed into my petey emotions. just need to accept that im never gonna be over him.

[kybercrystals94]

Embroidered Skulls

Read here on Ao3!

Febuwhump 2024 | Day 20 | Prompt 20: Truth Serum

Rated: G | Words: 1092 | A slight mishap leads to some honest answers. [Character Focus: Tech, Hunter, Echo, Crosshair, Wrecker]

I am steeling my little heart for season 3…so light hearted whump is being served here today ^_^

“Ah, you’re back,” Tech says, glancing up when Hunter and Echo clamber up the ramp of the ship. “Wrecker and Crosshair should be returning in short order as well.”

Hunter and Echo exchange glances, wordless communication flashing between them in microexpressions Tech cannot read.

“Did the extraction go according to plan? Were there any issues?” Tech asks.

Echo stiffens at the question, and Hunter turns away to drop the small crate of serum on one of the crash seats.

“It…went. It was fine,” Hunter says, his back still to Tech. “We’re fine.”

“We’re fine,” Echo agrees with a sharp nod.

Tech narrows his gaze.

“I mean…” Echo continues, looking uncomfortable. “We’re not injured. But there was a mishap.”

“Echo,” Hunter groans.

“A mishap?” Tech presses. “What sort of mishap?”

Echo shifts from one artificial leg to the other. “Well…”

Hunter spins around, pushing Echo aside. “We lost one of the vials. That’s all. It was destroyed.”

“One of the truth serum vials?” Tech keeps himself carefully composed. “Were either of you exposed?”

Hunter huffs, crossing his arms. “Were you exposed?”

“That is not a logical response,” Tech says, deadpan.

“Yeah, well,” Hunter sputters, “Why aren’t you answering the question?”

Tech rolls his eyes. “No. I was not exposed because I wasn’t there. I’m going to assume that you both were exposed which explains why you are behaving erratically.”

“You can’t tell Wrecker or Crosshair,” Echo pleads.

“Echo! Stop talking,” Hunter cries.

“You stop talking,” Echo shoots back. “You’re the one asking Tech if he was exposed to the serum you dropped half a klick away!”

“That’s because someone didn’t make sure the second latch on the crate was secure!”

“Oh, so it’s my fault?”

“Yes!”

“At least we now know that the serum is effective,” Tech sighs, picking up the crate of drugs to stow away before Wrecker inadvertently causes more mayhem.

“Tech,” Hunter cries, trailing after him, “is there an antidote?”

“The effects should wear off on their own with no detriment to your health.”

“But Tech…”

Tech locks up the crate and turns to his brother. “Hunter, do you honestly think I have an antidote to a newly discovered truth serum just lying around in the med kit?”

Hunter hesitates. “Yes?”

“That was a rhetorical question, but I appreciate your honesty,” Tech says with a barely concealed grin as he brushes past Hunter back into the main hold.

“Tech, this isn’t funny!”

“That entirely depends on which side of the argument you’re on,” Tech says. “And I’m sure that Wrecker and Crosshair will be on my side.”

“You can’t tell them!”

“I won’t tell them anything. The two of you on the other hand…”

“Maker, Tech, you have to help us,” Echo says.

A distinct voice bellows outside the ship, “We’re back! Did you miss us?”

Hunter and Echo give Tech an beseeching look, and he almost pities them.

Almost.

Wrecker comes bounding into the ship followed by the much more sedate sniper. Crosshair hits the control to close the door before turning on the group still crowded in the hull. “Is something wrong?” he asks, taking off his helmet.

“Why would something be wrong? Nothing’s wrong,” Hunter says quickly.

Too quickly.

Crosshair smirks. “What did you do?”

Hunter’s jaw tightens, but he keeps his mouth shut.

Crosshair’s gaze slides to Echo. “What did he do?”

“Hunter broke a vial of the truth serum,” Echo says.

Crosshair’s face goes slack with surprise for a moment before a wicked grin curls across his face. “Did he now? That’s unfortunate.”

“What does that mean?” Wrecker asks, looking concerned as he glances between the color drained faces of Echo and Hunter.

“It means that loose lips crash starships, Wrecker,” Crosshair says.

Wrecker looks puzzled for a moment before it clicks, and he smiles broadly. “Ah, I get it.”

“There’s nothing to get,” Hunter snaps. “Tech, get us out of here. We have a mission to complete.”

Tech nods and heads for the cockpit, Echo following closely behind him.

“If you think I’m going to help you not inadvertently answer incessant questions, you are mistaken,” Tech says, settling into the pilot’s chair and flicking switches for the startup sequence.

“How long will it take for this to get out of our systems?” Echo asks.

Tech sighs. “I may know many things, Echo, but even I have my limits. I would need access to the research and chemical makeup of the drug to accurately answer your question.”

“Give me your best guess.”

“You will not like it.”

“Tech!”

“I would estimate that you and Hunter will experience the effects of the drug for approximately one standard week.”

“No! You’re lying!”

Tech smiles. “At least one of us can.”

Echo drops into the copilot’s chair with a growl. “You’re the worst.”

Tech gets them situated in a hyperspace lane before a tangle of cajoling voices approach the cockpit, and Hunter enters followed by Wrecker and Crosshair. Hunter sits down, and turns his chair away from his siblings.

“C’mon, Hunter,” Wrecker says, “Don’t you want to tell us?”

“No!”

Crosshair chuckles. “He’s telling the truth.”

“Shut up, Cross.”

“But really, Hunter, we need to know…where’d you learn how to embroider skulls onto your bandanas? Or do you have them done somewhere? And if that’s the case, then where?”

Hunter decidedly keeps his jaw locked shut.

“It would be more effective if you asked the questions individually,” Tech offers. The look of utter betrayal Hunter shoots him is heartbreaking, but the engineer simply shrugs. “This is a research opportunity I am unwilling to pass up.”

Echo chuckles, drawing Crosshair’s attention. “You know something about this, don’t you?” he asks, pointing at the cyborg accusingly.

Hunter’s eyes widen, and Echo swallows.

“I’m not sure what you’re asking,” Echo says, evading the question carefully.

“Where does Hunter keep his art projects?”

Echo scoffs. “Hunter doesn’t do art projects,” he says, looking relieved. A fatal mistake.

“Where does Hunter keep his embroidery kit?” Tech specifies.

“In a box under the nav computer. There’s a hollow behind the main hard drive,” Echo says.

“Echo!” Hunter gasps.

Crosshair and Wrecker exchange thrilled glances before racing out of the cockpit. Hunter goes after them, ordering them to leave his stuff alone.

“How did you find out about Hunter’s sewing project?” Tech asks wryly.

“Eh, I found it one day when I was doing repairs.”

The two are quite a moment while they listen to the indistinct squabbling and laughter behind them.

“But really, Tech, how long until this stuff wears off?”

END

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[happyk44]

Percy bleaching his hair because he thinks Nico is solely attracted to blondes, based on Jason, Apollo, and Will

Nico bleaching his hair because he thinks Percy is solely attracted to blondes, based on Annabeth and Luke

(Percy laughing because, oh gods no, Nico, I am was attracted to your dad in a major way for years a couple days, being blonde is irrelevant)

(Nico laughing, because, oh gods no, Percy, you were my childhood crush in a major way for years, being blonde is irrelevant)

[whatisamildopinion]

Three cheers for the appearance of an (unintentionally) deadbeat dad!!! He's late, but he's here, folks!

Snippet from the chapter below the cut!

“We’re picking up a rogue celestial signature in Avernus.”

Pok blinks. “What? Is there anyone assigned to Avernus right now?”

“No! That’s the problem! No one is supposed to be there, there are no active missions there right now. But we’re picking up a presence, and a strong one. There’s some kind of emergency signal. And the beacon of the Bottomless Pit is lit.”

Pok feels the surprise in his chest grind into a halt and curdle into panic, thick and sour. “Has anyone responded to it yet?”

A crackle of static. “Captain Bill Seacaster’s armada.”

His eyes go wide. “Fuck.” 

“Fuck,” agrees the operator. “We’re pulling you. Whatever this signal is, we can’t figure out how to contact it, but it’s sending out a distress signal. We can’t pin down the location with enough precision to get it back on our own without bringing Seacaster’s whole cavalry back with it, which I don’t have to explain would be bad in more ways than we can express.”

“I’m on retrieval,” Pok surmises. 

“Yes.”

“Copy that.”

[just-a-forest-nymph]

Hear me out… free use sleepy thigh fucking… Waking up to your tired groans as you sloppily buck into my thighs finishing in between them before you fall back to sleep leaving me used, sticky and wet. Me trying to wake you up again with my hips grinding against your cock. My pussy weeping to be filled. Only upon awaking, you use my thighs again in your delirious sleep state while I beg you on repeat… just a thought.

[rjavenuru]

you're doing it on purpose, aren't you, sir?