#this is all pretty unoriginal i think

[quinn-pop]

happy cringe day wednesday here’s that future meta knight design from this thing

i wanted to change his palette so it would be more balanced with the horns and reflect his role in dreamland’s monarchy. hence, the red. and the fur. which is also just because i thought it would be nice and comfy. hard to design a cape for someone without much in terms of shoulders.

kirby’s also here, ready for a sword fight, but…we can ignore that :)

[papasmistakeria]

Y’know at first I was a bit iffy with people saying the reason Sweden won is cause they let international votes and that non-Europeans and non-Australians just Don’t Get It. But then I open the Indonesian Eurovision group chat and I would like to sincerely and formally apologize cause you guys were right, turns out most if not everyone in the group chat (excluding me and like 2 people) spent their votes for Sweden and you guys are absolutely right we’re not ready to vote

[devilsskettle]

don’t worry darling is like. unnecessarily trying to reinvent the stepford wives however it is inch resting to me that this movie got so buried by whatever was going on with the cast drama when it’s a movie that speaks to delusional radicalized incel bullshit + the stake that men have in controlling women’s lives and bodies + power dynamics etc etc which idk i just feel like even otherwise progressive people are so quick to completely shut down media with feminist themes if it’s too in-your-face about it and they’ll come up with a bunch of excuses about why it’s cringe. i’ve seen so many people be like “don’t even bother to watch the film, it probably sucks, the drama during production is way more entertaining” like whatever, it’s not a revolutionary movie, i liked it though and i think we still need explicitly feminist films and i have concerns about dismissing a film without even knowing the basic premise because of (what seem to me to be low stakes) interpersonal issues among the cast

[mayadoesfandomstuff]

I do see that the series takes some of the themes from Ovid's work and as much as I do have a mixed opinion on it since his work wasn't necessarily supposed to be an official roman version of things but political criticism of the government as well as a way to trash the greeks, it does work well with the overall theme and narrative that Percy Jackson has built up with how gods are fallible and in fact had done a lot of wrong and them ignoring their kids is an awful thing and they should be better parents.

Like, yeah, I do have my own gripes with the usage of Ovid's Medusa rather than the original Greek one in the story, but it does work with the larger narrative of the series so it's not that big of a deal for me.

[anonymous-existences]

DCxDP Prompt 15 :

Danny/Wes idea, Demon Sibs Combined into it.

Short prompt and vague stuff. If I had to motivation I'll do some continuation to it but picture this.

DanyalDanny knows he's adopted, always had known especially since he was adopted as the Fenton's were out and about looking for ghosts back when he was merely 6, they found him all battered and bloodied up and immediately took him in as their own, Jazz was very pleased with a new little brother and she became her reason to stay and purpose to protect.

The Fentons aren't the best but they loved Danny, Danny could say the same as he was shocked to see their reactions when he first called them 'Mom' and 'Dad'. They burst into tears and pulled Danny into a love filled bear hug, Danny could say it was the most love he has ever felt.

But Danny, he would never talk about his past, no, no, he claimed amnesia. He felt subtle guilt when he lied about it but now it felt insignificant to worry about, after becoming a Halfa due to the portal accident, he found himself in the middle of simping A-listers and a conspiracy theorist who immediately clocked him upon sight(how did he do that??).

Wes Weston always had the affinity of finding out someone's identity behind a mask, he always voiced out these thoughts knowing no one would believe him but at times it can still get pretty annoying. Danny Fenton caught his eye, he never paid attention to the boy but he kept a secret tab on him, the way he walked felt stuff and subtly regal, the way he talked had a hidden southeast accent(?) that Wes couldn't pinpoint where came from.

Considering the Fact that Danny was adopted... Completely out of nowhere, the Fenton's picked up a boy from somewhere in the world and adopted him without question but Wes doesn't think that's suspicious since the Fentons ARE the Fentons after all.

What kept his tabs, and everything else come to life is when Phantom appeared, Kyle Weston, his brother refused to help and exempted himself from Wes's spiraling Theories piling up.

Wes immediately clocked Phantom as Danny, It's too obvious for Christ's sake, Fenton? PHANTOM? It was so original and unoriginal at the same time, Wes still forced his brother to listen and at some point Wes noticed Dash stopped bullying Danny after having Dash listen through Wes's Theoretical Rant.

Dash and Kyle want nothing to do with Danny, they don't have him, they just suspect Wes is secretly gay and his love language is comparing his crush to the awesome town vigilante ghost.

Everything is as normal as everyday until the GIW found out about Danny's identity, The Fenton Parents and Jazz weren't there when they took Danny away for 'Examination'. So Wes did what any normal person would do, pull out the exact blueprint and hidden passageway of The GIW Facility Base and Bust Danny out of there without getting the already wounded and partially open boy even more injured and in pain.

The Fenton parents did everything they could do to hide Danny as soon as they got home after Wes had contacted them somehow, they love their baby boy so much, He's their Danny, their Daniel, their Phantom.

Wes dragged Kyle into the mess, Not that Kyle had any options and thus. With the help of Jazz who was in Gotham for college, The Fenton Parents stayed behind to keep the GIW in Amity, And Wes along with his Begrudgingly Dragged Along Older Brother Kyle, Is heading to Gotham.

Did Danny anticipate that Wes and Kyle both have truth altering possibly also Reality Warping curse that they bend to their will, but then again sometimes they're too stupid and too human to use these curses to their advantage.

They arrived in Gotham and at first everything was Normal, Danny became the Handyman of their free and he'd fix anything for food and any of the sort. Especially candies for children who wanted their toys fixed, Wes was the weird quiet one who was deemed tough on the outside, soft on the inside because of how oddly kind he still was despite his first impressions.

Kyle was the chill one who was denser than rock in most occasions and jazz was the oldest one who was raising them(along with Kyle) as well as pursuing psychology.

Now here comes more of the DC part :

Wes starts to theorize about the bats, same old same old, Danny listens to them intently as Wes makes pretty good points about the identities(Except Bruce Wayne as Batman, cuz that guys a Total Himbo Billionare.)

Danny and Robin meet by pure coincidence. Danny recognizes him immediately, Damian impulsively taking off his mask and charging at Danny, Both knew they were not Clones of each other and Danny comes home with an unmasked Robin and not any of them feels that this is something out of place.

Going as far as serving Damian a plate of food and Danny introducing the Weston Siblings and Jazz. Jazz immediately mentally adopting Damian because he's her baby brother Twin thus he's just another little chick of hers.

For a while Robin takes time to have dinner on their house, Alfred obviously instantly notices but doesn't mention it Infront of others but merely tells Damian to stay safe and eat well.

The Batfam slowly notice the change of demeanor, Damian slowly getting less aggresive and acting softer and perhaps a tad bit too innocent like for their comfort, they finally follow him to the place he frequents and sneaks off to every night and they see him take off his mask and hug someone who's the exact replica of him, just blue eyes.

They see him drop his guard and become comfortable by their small dining table that fits 5 perfectly. If it weren't for his current costume at the time then he would have looked like a normal civilian boy.

Shenanigans Ensue. You guys can take it from here ✨

[tittiesnhrtz]

i was having a really bad day and only ellie williams fluff could save me bahaja. this was written under fifteen mins so it’s not proofread. also this is pure fluff.

the lamp in the living room casts a glow on the silhouette of your wife sprawled on the couch, with its dim yellow light highlighting her pretty features and the book nestled on her lap. she pretends to be enamoured by the still words on the paper, though what she’s really enamoured by is the sight of you examining the basket of tangerines. your brows are furrowed in concentration as you stare at the circular fruits, probably trying to tell which one is the most succulent, you only want your wife to have the best one after all. she watches as you finally pick one out of the dainty basket, thinking about how she managed to get so lucky, her perfect wife who’s always there for her, anchoring her to the peacefulness of life. almost every thought that weaves itself into her mind is about you— while she’s at work, while she’s at home, even when she’s sleeping, her dreams are a figment of her moments with you. her calloused palms having learnt the texture of your skin, always seem to crave your warmth, unable to stay away from the expanse of your flesh. your stomach, your legs, your arms, your ass, she’ll take whatever you give her happily.

she makes space for you as you lay down beside her, your fingers peeling the outermost layer of the fruit, just like you’d peeled all the tough layers she put up, getting to the core of her heart, learning her soul inside out. you take a piece and bring it to her peach hued lips. she gladly welcomes it, the juices dripping down her chin. “so messy.” you chuckle and wipe the pulp away with your thumb. “‘s not my fault you weren’t holding it properly.” she places a lingering kiss to your nose bridge, letting the sticky liquid make a home on your nose. “ellie!” you exclaim, giggling and nudging her shoulder. she takes a few pieces of the tangerine from your hand and pulps their juices out onto your neck, only to lick them clean, the warm muscle of her tongue flicking across the pulse of your neck. “you’re so gross.” you put the rest of the fruit away from her grasp, letting them rest on the round oak table that serves as a coffee table in the depths of your house. “mhm, you love me anyway.” she smiles against your neck, slender fingers crawling under your cotton dress, tugging and sliding them off your body. your bra and underwear follow suit, joining the fabric on the ground. her hands trace every contour, every blemish and every flawless crest, worshipping your skin like its her salvation. “my pretty girl.” she murmurs, manoeuvring your body to fit inside the oversized t-shirt she’s wearing, her skin erupting at the feel of yours. her arms encircle your waist, spooning you, seeking closeness. her hand slides down, pressing against your pelvis, fingers playing tenderly with the hair that adorns your pussy, in a loving manner. “i love you.” a kiss to your earlobe. “so.” a kiss to your forehead. “so.” a kiss to your collarbone. “much.” a final and gentle kiss to your cheek. you smile at your lovesick wife, equally as hopeless as her. “i love you too. so, so much.” you repeat her euphoric words, longing to hear the three most unoriginal words again and again. she reads your mind, knowing you and your heart’s way better than yourself, and repeats the words like a lullaby, creating a symphony in the humdrum of the living room. all that matters to her is your soft breathing, the book being long forgotten, bridged somewhere between your bodies. as she whispers the words that have became your private altar, her throat grows dry until slumber takes over her body, her eyes fluttering shut as her cheek presses against yours, relishing in the solace of your love.

[mountainficss]

!! mentions of: cockwarming, unprotected sex

keep having this sick nasty dirty unoriginal thought of cockwarming wonwoo while he’s playing his lil computer games.

gamer!wonwoo that would just look so gorgeous in the dim lighting of his room, his features illuminated by the light of his computer. you’d stand behind his chair and watch him play, massaging his shoulders and pressing the occasional little kiss to his cheek which would make him smile and blush. he’d even abandon the game and swivel around to face you, the overwhelming feeling of missing you hitting him like a truck as he wraps his arms around your torso to pull you close to him. you were wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties underneath and he still thought you were the most breathtaking human on earth. he’d gaze up at you lovingly through his glasses and ask you in the quietest voice ever if you’d sit with him while he plays. and how could you say no to sweet wonwoo ;( so you sit on his lap while he plays, facing the computer while his arms wrap around you from behind to tap on his keyboard. it would start off innocent at first, but feeling the warmth of your thighs and your ass pressing against wonwoo’s cock would make him needy underneath you. he found it harder to focus on his game, but he didn’t even want to. didn’t care that his friends were in his ear giving him the most shit for his declining game performance, because all he can think about right now is you. he wants to be closer, wants to feel your warmth but is sooo shy and will have trouble even thinking of how to politely ask you to sit on his cock and absolutely ruin him. you’d sense a shift in his behavior and his distracted playing, so you’d just ask him instead, the sudden request making him blush but eagerly nod his head. you’d stand up, pushing his chair back slightly so you can untie the strings of his sweatpants and pull them down just enough so his cock smacks onto his stomach. you’d sit on his lap facing him this time, pulling your panties to the side and slowly sinking down onto him. he’d let out a relieved sigh, feeling your tight warmth around him and distracting him even more from his game. you’d shush him gently and press kisses to his exposed skin, licking up his neck to his ear and nipping it lightly. you wouldn’t move, forcing him to refocus and try to play better and win like he usually does. only after a few rounds of his game would you start to harshly bounce on him when he least expects it, drawing a loud yelp of surprise from him. he’d completely forget about his game, his hands ditching the keyboard so he can wrap them under your (it’s his but that doesn’t matter) shirt and around your waist. you’d scold him slightly for not being able to play properly and he’d let out little mumbled apologies, telling you how he tried so hard to win for you but he just wants your touch more than anything :( just wants to give all of his undivided attention to you because he loves and misses you so much. you wouldn’t stop bouncing on him until you both are out of breath and satisfied <3

won’t be a one time thing either, would definitely be reoccurring. most days you’d let him mute his mic so he can moan and whine as loud as he wants, but sometimes you’d make him keep it on and hide all of his disgustingly lewd sounds from his unsuspecting friends. you’d make him keep conversations with them just so you can hear him struggle to hold back his pretty sounds. all while his face is super red and he’s doing his absolute best to win for you and please you :( i love shy wonwoo so much.

[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."

[hazbinwhoree]

reader that keeps adam in line and behaving well by simply flooding him with affection. adam being rude? grab his face, call him baby, tell him how handsome and great he is. then have him be have nicer to prove how kind a man he apparently is.

You Catch More Flies With Honey

“Holy fucking shitballs, am I seeing who I think I’m seeing?” Adam stopped walking abruptly as Charlie and Vaggie passed them. “What is she doing here? How did she even get up here?” Lute snarled.

“Who cares? I’m handling this shit, right now!” Adam moved to follow them, but (Name) stopped him with her hands on his chest. He looked down at her, his anger softening.

“You want to start a fight on the promenade in front of everyone?” Lute pointed out.

“Better than waiting for the fucking extermination–” (Name) cuts him off, yanking him down by his collar. “Adam,” she said sweetly. “Baby. Remember the Seraphim’s rule?” Adam grumbled, but didn’t argue. (Name) patted his cheek. “And you’re better than starting a fight like that. That’s not the kind of man I’m dating.”

Adam whined, but leaned into her hand on his cheek.

Lute rolled her eyes at Adam’s behavior. At least (Name) had him on a tight leash.

During court, (Name) was working overtime.

“Webster’s Dictionary defines redemption as–” Charlie began. “Objection!” Adam interrupted. “Lame and unoriginal.” (Name) nudged his arm. Sera, however, agreed with him. “If you have actual evidence then show it already,” Adam snapped. (Name) rubbed his back.

Court carried on, and eventually Lute got pissed and interjected. “What are we even talking about? Some crack whore who fucked up already? He blew his shot like the cocks in his mouth, this discussion is senseless and petty.”

Adam joined her and they flew down to Charlie and Vaggie’s level and (Name) didn’t even bother trying to follow. Adam and Lute fed off one another, and (Name) wasn’t at all surprised when Adam let it slip about the exterminations.

The room errupted into chaos, and before long, Adam was outing Vaggie as a fallen angel. As he threatened Charlie and Vaggie into the portal back to Hell before closing it on them, (Name) flew down from her seat.

“That was unnecessary, Adam,” Sera said stoically. She looked at (Name) with a “take care of it” look. (Name) marched over to Adam and Lute and dismissed Lute. Once Lute was gone, (Name) pulled Adam down by the collar to cup his face in her hands.

“That was mean, handsome.”

Adam looked sheepish. “Yeah I know…”

(Name) sighed, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Mean enough to warrant no sex tonight.” Adam’s jaw dropped. “No!” (Name) let go of his collar, taking his hands in hers. “You’re lucky I’m feeling nice, pretty boy.” Adam sighed in relief.

“But you are going to leave their hotel alone.”

“What?”

“I’m serious, Adam. You’re going to go about the extermination the way you usually would. You’re not going to target their hotel.”

“But–” “Or we could just not have sex tonight.”

Adam whined before finally agreeing. “Ugh, fine.”

“Thank you, baby,” (Name) cooed, cuddling up to his chest. Adam wrapped his arms around her. “Yeah, whatever.”

“You’re too handsome to be doing all that asshole shit.”

Adam softened under the praise, picking (Name) up so she could kiss him on the lips. “I’m sorry,” he said when (Name) pulled back.

“Just do better, my love.”

“I will.”

[prentissluvr]

just an observation — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, a little cliche hehe, reader is shorter than sam, poor editing as always, 1.3K words. requested !

prompt : one being shorter and it being a source of great enjoyment for the other.

sam really tries not to tease you about your height; he’s supposed to be a gentleman, and it’s not your fault that he’s so tall. but he just finds it so completely endearing that you’re shorter than him, and sometimes he just can’t help it.

you’re rambling about some movie that you watched last night, wandering the kitchen as you grab everything you need to make something to drink for the both of you. he leans against the counter, eyes trailing your sweet form.

“i don’t normally watch rom-coms, and it was sort of really bad, but it’s hard to resist anything with david tennant,” you say, coming to stand right next to him and open the cabinet by his head. instinctually, you put your hand on the corner to make sure it doesn’t hit him and reach up to grab your favorite mug. only someone (sam) has put it on the top shelf.

it’s not as if you can’t reach the cup. with a stretch and maybe some help from getting up on your tip-toes, you absolutely can. but sam is right there, willing and far more able. he doesn’t hesitate, turning a little and grabbing the cup with ease. you get a full, close-up view of his arm as it reaches right in front of your face and holds the cup out for you with a smile on his mouth that’s both sweet and teasing all at once. 

you narrow your eyes at him but let your own mouth curve into a little smile. it’s difficult to react properly to him when he’s being a teasing asshole and genuinely just trying to be helpful.

“thanks,” you grumble, taking the cup from him and grabbing his own mug from the lower shelf. he just hums an affirmation in response, seeming unnecessarily pleased with himself. you brush it off with a small laugh under your breath, then move to fill your cup with your choice beverage and sam’s with coffee from the half-empty pot. just to be close to him, you return to the spot at the counter next to him, preparing each drink the way they’re most well liked. sam lets you do it, only because he knows you like to do little things like this for him. 

that, and he loves watching you do anything at all. he loves to pour his undivided attention into you, sometimes so lovestruck that he doesn’t even care if you notice that he’s totally in love with you, despite the fact that he probably shouldn’t be. fuck being friends, he thinks sometimes.

so he watches and notices as you take extra care and precision to prepare his drink than yours, and he watches your lips move as you continue talking about the movie. it sounds like a bad movie, but you smile when you describe it to him, so he couldn’t care less.

“despite it being a pretty bad movie, the leads made it fun to watch,” you admit without hesitation. “it was horribly cliche and unoriginal, but there were some really sweet moments with her mom, and i don’t know anything much about cinematography, but i thought it was just gorgeous.” you slide his cup over to him and begin to work on your own.

he takes it with a sweet, “thank you,” and you just nod as you keep on blabbing, carefree and casual as sam looks at you like he’s in love with you.

“the setting was so beautiful, and the way they did the colors was just so pretty. so of course, that made it feel all romantic and shit,” you say, turning around with your own mug in hand to lean against the counter the same as sam. you take a sip of your drink and hum a little in satisfaction, and if your eyes weren’t trailing along the cabinet across the room, you might catch the adoration in his eyes. he schools his features to look more neutral when you look at him with this sort of longing that catches him off guard. “it was filmed in scotland, and sam, i have to go to scotland someday. it’s unbelievably beautiful to me.”

he smiles at you all soft. “we can try,” he says, not even thinking as he says those words. he just wants to please you.

you laugh a little. “well, that’s wishful thinking,” you sigh playfully. though, it’s completely true that the chances of you getting a break, much less an international one, are quite slim. you like the idea anyway. and you love that he said “we.” he’d go with you, that means. he’d try because he wants to make just about anything you want into a reality. a minute in silence slips away, like the coffee in his cup. you make it so perfect, he can’t keep his lips from the rim of the mug.

and while he’s content watching you sip away at your own drink, he likes hearing your voice so much that he’d like to fill the air with words rather than rustling clothes.

“you look extra short today,” he comments, a smirk splayed across his face. a screw must be loose in his mouth, because things that he’s not meaning to say keep falling from his lips. but he keeps thinking about the way your mouth tilted down just a little when you saw that your mug was higher up then usual, or the halfway annoyed smile you gave when he pulled it down for you. so this is the part where he just can’t help but tease, only because he loves you and doesn’t know how to show it.

“well, you must have grown in your sleep then,” you tease back, rolling your eyes. “what a rude thing to say,” you joke, “and here i was, thinking you were a gentleman.”

he shrugs, the smile on his face stretching wider. “i was just stating an observation.”

you tilt your head to the side and look at him with the hint of a smirk in your grin. “you know, you try to hide it, but i think you like that i’m shorter than you, don’t you, sam? which is silly, because most everybody is.”

he’s taken aback by that. he never expected you to call him out on it, to notice just how much he really enjoys being taller than specifically you.

“just stating an observation,” you quip when it takes him more than a moment to reply.

“and you like that i’m taller than you, so i guess that makes us even,” he grins. he pays plenty enough attention to you to know that it’s true.

you bite the inside of your cheek, already knowing you don’t have a better response to that. you raise an eyebrow at him. “fine. we’re even then,” you acquiesce, both begrudging and holding back a smile at the same time.

he tilts his head and looks at you with a glint in his eyes. “not that even,” he teases, clearly alluding to the difference in height between the two of you.

you roll your eyes again and scoff out a little laugh. “very funny,” you deadpan, unimpressed by the joke. you can feel him shifting closer to you, like he can resist it. his arm brushes against yours as he takes another sip of coffee. god, he’s flirty today. sam keeps you on your toes, he keeps you guessing and wondering and you know that he’s too nice to be sending mixed signals on purpose, but you just can’t tell.

you feel like you’re sitting on the bank of a river, dressed in white with a handful of daisies by your side and picking petals reciting “he loves me… he loves me not,” over and over again. today it feels like “he loves me.”

[dalekofchaos]

Not interested in LIS:Double Exposure

Okay I saw the Double Exposure trailer and I am not playing it.

Multiple reasons.

The Deck Nine IGN article. I will not support a developer that knowingly protected a bigoted groomer and allowed a Nazi to sneak in White Supremacist signs in the game.

Max learned nothing about the first game. Nevermind there is no Chloe, Warren or anyone from Arcadia insight(we'll get to that) Max apparently formed another codependent relationship that she couldn't let go to the point where she's fucking up reality by creating yet another parallel world. Either Deck Nine is entirely unoriginal or Max didn't learn a damned thing

That is not Max. If your defense is "she grew up" I got news for you. I've looked the same for nearly a decade. I've had friends while changing their aesthetic, they look the same. you don’t look like an entirely new person when you age, the new model looks nothing like max there’s barely even resemblance. Also I know, we all change our style as we get older, but Max's style was unique and it made Max Caulfield who she is. It didn't need to change. Deck Nine just Stephified Max. Was it really that hard to give Max bangs? Not just that. No freckles, eyes and eyebrows look completely different. This is not Max Caulfield.

4. No one from Arcadia Bay returned. It's pretty obvious Deck Nine is either keeping Chloe's fate a secret, but it's also clear they are trying to skirt around the issue of the endings without pissing everyone off. Feels like a copout to whatever ending you chose to give a new cast of characters. For the fans who wanted more time to play as Max and Chloe, I feel bad for you, I especially wanted to see Chloe again. So what the fuck was this supposed to be for then?

Though another point; why the hell are we supposed to be okay with the fact that Max is using her power again to save this brand new character we have zero previous connection to? Especially if the game’s gonna try to straddle both endings to LiS 1; seems very insulting to have Max be okay with doing it for a character we have no previous attachment to, but she’s left her girlfriend to die alone, thinking nobody loved her?

Also you had the perfect chance to make a fucking game that has Max save Rachel. I know I just did a tangent about Max not learning anything, but if you were just going to have Max use her powers again, why the fuck didn't you do it to save Rachel from a fate she never deserved? Godfucking forbid you give attention to Warren, Kate or Victoria. I just wanted to see these characters get some screen time, make cameos or give us SOME hint to what they are up to after the events of the first game. But no, we can't have that. We can't be given anything of substance for Warren, Kate or Victoria. Can't learn anything about their fates in the LIS 2 Save Arcadia Bay ending, can't find out Warren or Kate survived the storm in Wavelengths via talking to Steph during the storm anniversary and we can't see them again in DE. I know it's just a teaser, but seriously why even do a new Max game if we don't even get cameos from these characters? Knowing how Deck Nine is, they are just gonna find a way to demonize Warren to paint him like Eliot, regress Victoria's character and not even give Kate the time of day to mention. Jesus fucking christ, I just wanted to see Max and Warren Go Ape, fun Max and Victoria photodates and to see Max and Kate have one fucking Tea date. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR???

5. Deck Nine are literally just swiping DontNod’s characters for the purposes of chasing that brand recognition. It's just copy pasting lighting in a bottle and milking a cow out of this franchise. BTS was remotely successful because of Chloe and Rachel's relationship. True Colors is fun at first, but realize it's just a hollow imitation of the first game. DONTNOD's story was original, fun and unique. I had problems with it but it was still THEIR story on their terms and not developed from a place of corporate cynicism asking for preorders ASAP that come bundled with a box of tissues and bobbleheads of dead teenagers. Read recent interviews from DONTNOD and you can TELL they got burned by SquareEnix over this. I hope they can channel that into something with Bloom and Rage because I’d love to see them recapture that magic again.

I had fears of what would happen if Deck Nine ever got their hands on Max. And looks like I was right to be worried.

To be clear, I think making stories with someone else’s character is great and cool and it’s literally what fanfiction is and technically, MUCH of mass media now IS “fanfiction”. The difference here is DONTNOD deliberately wanted LIS 1 canon left alone, near as I can tell. But no, Square Enix wanted a franchise and Deck Nine was more than happy to milk the cow for all it was worth and Deck Nine has shown they don't understand DONTNOD's characters

The game looks like it's repeating everything about the first game, but none of the charm that made it great. It's beat for beat the same fucking game. Dead friend, murder mystery, but without the ambiance, charm or magic that made the first game good. Deck Nine is completely unoriginal, DE is a soulless cashgrab and their hyperrealism killed the entire essence of the game and its characters.

It's quite literally a copy and paste of True Colors, but with Max.

And when we just look at this. Double Exposure is just soulless. It's style over substance and I knew. I just KNEW that if Deck Nine got their hands on Max it would be half-assed and soulless shit like this. They dared to slap Max's name on a Steph lookalike and then just do True Colors again, but more hollow.

There's something just so disappointing about the change in art style over the years. The art direction in the first game was charming and now it just feels kinda soulless. The awkward chunkyness of the models really made it stand out but now it feels way too smooth

life is strange going from one studios passion project to another’s cashgrab is one of the biggest modern tragedies in the world deck nine they could never make me like you. All the charm of the franchise from the cartoonish artstyle to the episodical releases has been completely stripped away it’s just very disappointing to see.

This meme is literally Double Exposure.

[ttkinnie]

Tokyo Revengers characters as animals 💖 (for no reason)

Kazutora: let's start with the most obvious one, our resident tiger. Which is funny considering he gives 0 tiger vibes. Or maybe rescued declawed tiger from an abusive circus. Wait a sec... Hanma and Kisaki have a circus theme going on... why did I never notice this? This starts well. Saddest tiger pic I could find

Baji: A black gray wolf of course. 'nuff said

Chifuyu: A cat. Kitty kitty meow meow. Not crazy enough to be orange, but he's gotta have green eyes and a kind face. This tuxedo:

Koko: Talking about cats, here he is. Most obvious choice I've ever made. Black cat of course, very fancy, will knock shit off the counter and eats only the most expensive wet food

Inupi: second most obvious one because you've gotta pick the race of the dog too. I say he's the only serious golden retriever you've ever seen.

Takemichi: A mouse. He is squeaky and scared, looks like he eats cheese. Very cute. Big eyes.

Hinata: A doe, beautiful and kind but will ram into you if you touch her loved ones

Naoto: a buck because I am unoriginal. he does give off buck vibes tho

Hanma: I know the official art makes him a caracal but I love being contradictory so maned wolf it is. Plus look at its long legs and creepy demeanor, it's him

Kisaki: Listen, I am not the most partial person when it comes to him. He's my little meow meow, I wanna put either cat or bunny ears on him and squish his cheeks. But! Let's be honest, that boy is a snake. The deadliest snake in the world, the saw scaled viper, not the most venomous but highly aggressive. He eats mouse Takemichi for breakfast. Also look at its scales, they remind me of his adult hair.

Mikey: A honey badger, small and cute but will bite your balls off and kill your family for fun.

Draken: A lion, beautiful mane and a symbol of strength. Lives among a tribe of lionesses (lucky him)

Mitsuya: I do not like spiders. At all. But an animal literally producing silk is the only choice for Mitsuya. However I am not masochistic so i won't put a spider image, just the web

Taiju: Great white shark. Very smooth skin. Anyone who tells you they have sandpaper skin is lying.

Hakkai: A seal, same eyes, same innocence, favorite prey of the great white shark

Yuzuha: An orca, beautiful but deadly. Only predator of the great white shark. Also eats seals but let's not comment on that. I support women's wrongs.

Pah-chin: it's too cliché to put warthog here, so i won't. He's a cane toad, one of the stupidest animal on Earth, one of their most common cause of death is eating shit they shouldn't because they stuff their mouth without thinking. They also hump anything, including dead animals from another species, and lay their eggs anywhere, which leads to a high mortality rate among their offspring. Why did I give so many facts? I don't know. Look at it.

Peh-yan: A tarsier. it's the eyes.

Sanzu: Arctic hare, crazy eyes and a gift for divination if you can understand his language

Senju: a cutie baby. Bunny x2, will kick you.

Takeomi: a rat. I am not a hater, rats can be cute, but this guy definitely gives off rat vibes

Wakasa: So very pretty. White leopard of course.

Benkei: A bull. I always thought his tattoos were a bull, but I was wrong I just looked it up. Still a bull.

Shinichiro: This one was though, but I'd say a koala. I'm partial about it, but I feel like he would give his children poop to eat, and their reproductive habits are also not a good look on them.

Emma: Japanese dwarf flying squirrel because I play favorites and that's the cutest little furball ever. it looks like it's wearing eyeliner

Izana: Another small but deadly thing, the Australian box jellyfish, found notably along the coast of Malaysia (I feel so clever right now)

Kakucho: Fiercely loyal dog, he's a Rottweiler. Don't tell me Izana and him don't have some kind of puppy play going on.

Ran: Secretary bird. Canonically hates Kisaki which explains why he stomps snakes to death. Wears killer eyeshadow and looks like they hate your fashion style

Rindou: Did you know a group of male Pacific tree frogs is called a chorus? me neither, which is why Rindou is a Pacific tree frog. Peace of music, yeah

Mucho: Polar bear, cold and aggressive. Plus arctic hare and polar bear, there's a theme

[ninyard]

The monsters and their ability to pick up languages is so interesting to me so here’s some random HCs about monsters + languages that are definitely not original at all:

- Neil learned French in Europe before him and Mary found their way to French-speaking Canada. He essentially had to semi-adopt the language discrepancies while he was there, and even though his fluency is in French from France, sometimes he messes up and pronounces things weirdly or differently (and Kevin frequently makes fun of him for it)

- Kevin has some rusty Japanese that he was forced to learn growing up. He can understand it pretty well, and can somewhat speak it to a lower level, but he can’t read or write it. He’s not fluent, and probably couldn’t hold a conversation with a native speaker, but he could understand his Japanese counterparts in the Nest when he needed to.

- In turn Kevin isn’t able to order in Japanese at a restaurant, but he could explain the rules of Exy to someone fairly coherently if he had to.

- This isn’t an original thought by any means but Neil and Kevin definitely speak in French when they’re by themselves just to make sure they don’t lose it.

- They sometimes make calls to each other on the court in French, and because of this, most of the team picks up very basic calls in French. None of them can actually speak it, but Andrew picks up a little more than the rest, having spent so much time with Kevin. Again, couldn’t hold a conversation, but every now and again he recognises certain words in their conversations.

- Neil is like a walking version of those White Guy Speaks Chinese And Stuns Waitress (he can understand her?!?) polyglot youTube videos. It becomes more of a hobby for him once he’s settled and the FBI are off his back, but the foxes are constantly shocked by how many languages he can speak. He is fluent in English, French, and German of course, with some conversational Spanish, but he can pretty much have a basic interaction in most of the languages of countries he’d been in. His Dutch is the worst, because he could never quite grasp the proper pronunciation of things, but one time he speaks to a waiter in Italian and Andrew can’t believe it.

- (RIP Neil Josten, you would’ve loved duolingo)

- When he goes to the Olympics he’s like a kid in a candy store. It’s like a subconscious bingo game for him to speak to someone from every country at least once.

- Aaron loves listening to music in German. He would definitely drag Nicky to a rave if they ever found themselves in Berlin.

- Katelyn asks him whenever they have their kid if he wants to raise them bilingual, but he decides not to because he only really learned German for Nicky and his brother, and doesn’t really speak it at all after he graduates.

- Neil and Nicky study Spanish together sometimes. It helps Nicky stay close to his roots now that his immediate family is pretty much out of the picture. It means way more to him than Neil even knows.

- Another unoriginal one but Andrew and Neil definitely do learn sign language in the future. I could talk about this one forever.

- When Kevin gets frustrated, he finds it hard to speak ANY language. He messes up words in English, forgets how to say things, and occasionally is the butt of the joke when he combines a French and English word accidentally.

- Kevin watches anime when nobody is around. He thinks dubbed anime is a crime.

- Andrew thinks he’s pretty good at German until he tries to have a conversation with Erik and realises wow native speakers talk a lot faster than we do. You wouldn’t know, because even if he just understands half of a sentence, he can usually piece together what is being said 90% of the time, and he would never admit out loud that he needs Erik to slow down when he’s talking so he can understand him.

- He is, however, REALLY good at accents. He has a talent for speaking gibberish but sounding as if he’s speaking fluent French. It drives Kevin up the wall when he does it, but he also hates when he can’t understand what Kevin and Neil are saying to each other.

And Bonus:

- Jeremy is really bad at accents. He is initially frustrated by Jean and his French, but once he understands that it is Jean’s first language (that the Moriyama’s took from him), he makes an effort to try and learn. He’s just really, really bad at it. Jean cringes every time he tries, because he speaks with a heavy American accent. Jean is not pretentious about his language, but he is, at the end of the day, French. So when Jeremy says bonjour in that hideous so-Cal accent, it’s in part endearing that he’s trying, but mostly like nails on a chalkboard.

[ryoko1232]

Background, english is not my native language, i never promised something good, all I said is I wanted to write

(Also got no beta readers, this is RAW)

This is like chap 1/2

Unoriginal Idea : what if Polites and Odysseus ate the lotus fruit?

Slight NSFW (dw the smut is in chap 2 if i ever write it)

@jugganautism you wanted to see it here it is

1051 words (was losing motivation sorry)

“Here you go!” The lotus eater pushed fruit to their feet and Polites’s eyes lit up. “See? This life is amazing when we greet it with open arms!” Both Polites and Odysseus bit into the fruit as the Lotus eating creatures sang with Polites. “Whatever we face, we'll be fine if were leading from the heart!” Polites hugged Odysseus as he continued singing. “No matter the place, we can light up the world here's how to start!” Polites smiled as he looked Odysseus in the eyes. “Greet the world with open arms, greet the world with open arms!” Both men sang in unison.

They took a bunch of Lotus fruit, thanking the Lotus eaters as they left. Though after a few minutes, they fell, their heads were dizzy as they went unconscious. Waking up an hour later their minds were relaxed and… empty. “Ody!” Polites hugged Odysseus, kissing him on the neck and nuzzling him. Odysseus couldn't think any thoughts, it was so hard to think, but… why think when there was a pretty boy right infront of him.

Odysseus grabbed Polites’s face and started kissing it, guiding his tongue deep in his mouth. Polites almost started choking if they hadn't pulled apart, though, he was quick getting on top of Odysseus. They were very sticky since they fell on top of the Lotus fruit, that caused Polites's top to fall leaving his chest bare.

Odysseus quickly started to lick the fruit’s jam(?) off of Polites's peck. Feeling Ody’s tongue playing with his nipples made him whimper, he gasped when he started sucking. Moans could be heard as Polites slowly hump Ody, he started to warrant blood in his mouth due to the Lotus, but he felt too good to care. When Ody bit down, it caused Polites to jump away. Ody immediately went back onto Polites, kissing him once more. As they passionately made out, the crew wondered where they were.

“It's only hours away from sunrise, I should go look for them” Eurylochus announced, “disobeying captain? Really?” Perimedes replied. “Captain said to wait for him, it might be dangerous” Elpenor said behind Perimedes, causes him to respond with, “Obviously, its dangerous!”. “Ody is like a brother I cannot live without, knowing I could've save him from death is a worse pain then never going home” Eurylochus reasoned, Perimedes only tsked, “this is why you shouldn't have connections, you're getting yourself killed!”. “For the lives of my friends!” Eurylochus said, “As second to command you have no right to talk back, if I am not back when the sun directly above you, you have my permission to burn the island” he commanded the crew.

“If you don't return who will be the next captain?” Perimedes lit up, “I would suggest votings, though if Choosing one was obligated, my vote goes out to Menelaus” Eurylochus’s words caused an argument among the crew while he left, he heard Agamemnon shout “I SHOULD BE CAPTAIN, OBVIOUSLY!”.

Ody and Polites were cuddling up, Polites was nuzzling, kissing and lightly sucking Ody’s neck as he held him tight. They were surrounded by crushed Lotus fruit, a bit of blood stains from Ody’s bite and from a few scraps they got from rustling around in the grass. When Eurylochus found them he was horrified, “ODY! POLI! ARE YOU TWO OKAY??” He immediately went to their side.

“Eury!” Polites smiled and pulled him into the hug, Eurylochus sat up, and made sure the two followed. “What happened?” He asked, “Oh! Uhhhh… I don't know” Odysseus shrugged, Eury was scared that a witch had erased his memories. “Eury you should have some food!” Polites offered some Lotus fruit to Eury and he knew what happened. “Ody, Poli, please tell me you did not eat that” “why?” “Ody, look at the way the fruit is glowing and filled with glowing seeds” the gestured to the fruit in his hands “ it's a Lotus, it controls your minds and… never… lets you… leave…” Eurylochus realized what he was saying. Odysseus and Polites couldn't leave the spell of the fruit, they’re trapped.

No no no no no, he couldn't lose his friends… there- there has to be something they can do. “Ody, Poli, follow me” Eurylochus said though the two men showed no rush in getting up. “Why? Come on it's so relaxing here!” Polites smiled, leaning into Odysseus. Eurylochus needed to get going before their men lit the island up, so in desperation he picked both of them up and carried them to the ship. The crew was very surprised to see them. “Woah, what happened?” Menelaus asked, tears already prickling his eyes Eurylochus said “Th-they ate Lotus fruit! They're minds are trapped!”. “Lotus fruit…” the crew echoed, “told you they were gonna-” Elpenor shoved Peremides to stop him from continuing.

“Oh gods what am I gonna do-- how does one even undo a lotuses magic?? do we wait for it to wash off?? oh dear-” Eurylochus was panicking, while he was panicking Ody and Poli was back to making out. “WOULD YOU TWO STOP MAKING OUT SO LOUD I'M TRYING TO THINK HERE!” Eurylochus snapped at them. “Captain.. what's the funny man saying there?” Poli asked resting his head on Ody’s shoulder. “I’unno but I don't like his tone” Ody replied looking at Eurylochus.

Eurylochus couldn't care less, he was so worried that his friends were trapped like that, the he would have to explain to his sister in law, mother in law, and wife that Ody was like… THAT. Not to mention how devastated Polites’s family would be. The haven't left the island as they tried to hatch a plan, before someone pipes up “why don't we just lock them in the captain cabin”. “And what good would that do exactly?” Another asked, “Buddy, look at them” the first replied gesturing at the two men who were making out. Ody hd his hands on Polites's hips, guiding him back and forth as he deepens their kiss.

“Yup throw them in the cabin” Perimedes says already grabbing Polites off Odysseus, Elpenor followed with Odysseus.

[satcrvz]

R U MINE?

in which you get stood up, but suguru is always there to comfort you

f!reader x suguru geto wc: 1.1k not proofread

im sure everyone realizes that i use songs for my titles. i'm v #unoriginal :3

10:23 PM

cold, wet, and definitely exhausted, you trudged through the rain-soaked streets, your mood matching the dreary weather above. It was supposed to be a simple date, but you found yourself standing alone.

you had made an attempt to call shoko, who had set you up with the guy in the first place, but you were met with the voicemail tone almost instantly. her phone must be dead.

you found yourself texting geto instead, seeing if he could come and get you.

you

suguru, can you come get me?

suguru :p

what, he made you pay for the food?

you

no… i got stood up if you must know :/ please come? i’m cold

as you wait for his response, your attention is drawn to the sound of an approaching vehicle. turning your head towards the street, you see the headlights of a car emerging through the darkness, casting a warm glow on the rain-slicked pavement.

“sorry” you blurt out before he even gets the chance to question you. he turns to look at you with a slightly confused look on his face, “you're good, you don’t have to be sorry for anything” you nod, and the two of you ride in silence for the next 3 minutes.

geto breaks the silence, “oh shit, i didn’t even ask you where i'm dropping you off.” angling your head towards him, you inform him you’re pretty close to his house, and you’d rather be there.

after you step through the door of his house, you immediately start pacing around the room vomiting up words, most of it being; "he's such an asshole," "he didn’t even try to tell anyone he couldn’t make it!” geto had always been good at listening, especially during your rants.

it goes on for about 6 more seconds before he stops you, "you should go change clothes. you should’ve brought an umbrella". this earns an eyeroll and a snarky comment from you, "well suguru, i didn't plan on being rained on. clearly i have no clothes"

"don't act like a stranger yn, go shower and just grab some of my clothes from the drawer" you give him a nod, and make your way down the hall to his room while taking off your heels. you shut the door behind yourself and look through the bottom drawer which was full of his shirts that you occasionally like to borrow, and about 2 pairs of shorts you left from when you slept over.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

you walked out the bathroom into getos room, and decide to try and call shoko again. to your surprise, she picked up.

the two of you exchanged words, you letting her know what happened, and her apologizing profusely. somewhere along that convo, you reached the topic of geto.

“well, i think he’s into you”

"please don’t make me delusional right now, i seriously doubt it."

"i’m usually spot on with this type of thing! don’t doubt me. i’ve seen how he looks at you"

is she forgetting the reason why you wanted to go on that date? it was more of a free your mind of geto thing, but obviously that turned into the complete opposite. after about 2 more minutes of talking, you say your gooodbyes and make your way back to the living room.

you plopped next to him on the couch. he'd been on his phone previously, but picked up the remote as soon as you came. the two of you scan movies as he goes through them, when he randomly pauses,

“y’know, you’re really pretty. i don’t see how you got stood up” oh? oh. was he messing with you? you kept your eyes focused on the preview, fighting back a smile, “..thanks. i’m confused too, it seemed like he was genuinely into me”

"is insidious okay?"

“do you want me to have nightmares?”

“you’ll be fine”

you felt far from fine. all that ran through your mind was the feeling of his knee against yours, the sudden closeness overwhelming you. you nudged his leg, "close 'em slut"

as the smirk spreads across your face, geto arches an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. "what was that, yn?" he teases, a playful glint in his gaze. you laugh while shaking your head "nothing," you continue, "just watching the movie"

god must've not been on your side in that moment. a figure runs by in the movie scaring both you, and the character.

"if you're scared, you can move closer" he teases, "i don't bite"

you get nervous at the idea, but quickly straighten yourself out, "if it makes you feel better, fine." you quickly add on that you're doing it because he suggested it, not out of fear.

as the movie went on, you found yourself glancing at him when he wasn't looking. you take into account how his eyes follow whatever's on screen, and the way his lips curve into a smile whenever you slightly jump.

later, the movie comes to an end, but the two of you make no attempt to move from the couch. the room is just filled with comfortable silence and the soft sound of the air conditioning.

his voice cuts through the silence, his tone gentle and low, "y'know, despite you being stood up and rained on," he chuckles a bit, "i'm really glad you ended up with me tonight."

you hum and acknowledge his words "me too," you say while drawing circles on the back of his hand.

"there's something i wanted to tell you, but i never found the right time to, and i didn't really know how" your heart skips a beat at his words. "and what would that be?" curiosity was eating you up.

"i really care about you, more than i could probably say in words," your movements of tracing shapes stopped. however, he continued, "i enjoy spending time with you and. . ." there's a short pause that felt like forever, "can i kiss you?" he whispers. you don't hesitate to nod, anticipation coursing through you.

as his lips meet yours in a gentle kiss, you realize that despite the unexpected twists and turns of the night, you wouldn't have wanted it to end any other way.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

you

girl i love you. getting stood up was the best thing thats ever happened to me

pookie bae

very odd sentence composure. what does that mean 😭

you

nothing..... just know it involves suguru

pookie bae

WHAT? are you guys dating now?????

pookie bae

girl respond i need details!!! this is a milestone!

[sammyluvr]

just an observation — sam winchester

cw :gn!reader, fluff, a little cliche hehe, reader is shorter than sam, poor editing as always, 1.3K words. requested !

prompt : one being shorter and it being a source of great enjoyment for the other.

sam really tries not to tease you about your height; he’s supposed to be a gentleman, and it’s not your fault that he’s so tall. but he just finds it so completely endearing that you’re shorter than him, and sometimes he just can’t help it.

you’re rambling about some movie that you watched last night, wandering the kitchen as you grab everything you need to make something to drink for the both of you. he leans against the counter, eyes trailing your sweet form.

“i don’t normally watch rom-coms, and it was sort of really bad, but it’s hard to resist anything with david tennant,” you say, coming to stand right next to him and open the cabinet by his head. instinctually, you put your hand on the corner to make sure it doesn’t hit him and reach up to grab your favorite mug. only someone (sam) has put it on the top shelf.

it’s not as if you can’t reach the cup. with a stretch and maybe some help from getting up on your tip-toes, you absolutely can. but sam is right there, willing and far more able. he doesn’t hesitate, turning a little and grabbing the cup with ease. you get a full, close-up view of his arm as it reaches right in front of your face and holds the cup out for you with a smile on his mouth that’s both sweet and teasing all at once. 

you narrow your eyes at him but let your own mouth curve into a little smile. it’s difficult to react properly to him when he’s being a teasing asshole and genuinely just trying to be helpful.

“thanks,” you grumble, taking the cup from him and grabbing his own mug from the lower shelf. he just hums an affirmation in response, seeming unnecessarily pleased with himself. you brush it off with a small laugh under your breath, then move to fill your cup with your choice beverage and sam’s with coffee from the half-empty pot. just to be close to him, you return to the spot at the counter next to him, preparing each drink the way they’re most well liked. sam lets you do it, only because he knows you like to do little things like this for him. 

that, and he loves watching you do anything at all. he loves to pour his undivided attention into you, sometimes so lovestruck that he doesn’t even care if you notice that he’s totally in love with you, despite the fact that he probably shouldn’t be. fuck being friends, he thinks sometimes.

so he watches and notices as you take extra care and precision to prepare his drink than yours, and he watches your lips move as you continue talking about the movie. it sounds like a bad movie, but you smile when you describe it to him, so he couldn’t care less.

“despite it being a pretty bad movie, the leads made it fun to watch,” you admit without hesitation. “it was horribly cliche and unoriginal, but there were some really sweet moments with her mom, and i don’t know anything much about cinematography, but i thought it was just gorgeous.” you slide his cup over to him and begin to work on your own.

he takes it with a sweet, “thank you,” and you just nod as you keep on blabbing, carefree and casual as sam looks at you like he’s in love with you.

“the setting was so beautiful, and the way they did the colors was just so pretty. so of course, that made it feel all romantic and shit,” you say, turning around with your own mug in hand to lean against the counter the same as sam. you take a sip of your drink and hum a little in satisfaction, and if your eyes weren’t trailing along the cabinet across the room, you might catch the adoration in his eyes. he schools his features to look more neutral when you look at him with this sort of longing that catches him off guard. “it was filmed in scotland, and sam, i have to go to scotland someday. it’s unbelievably beautiful to me.”

he smiles at you all soft. “we can try,” he says, not even thinking as he says those words. he just wants to please you.

you laugh a little. “well, that’s wishful thinking,” you sigh playfully. though, it’s completely true that the chances of you getting a break, much less an international one, are quite slim. you like the idea anyway. and you love that he said “we.” he’d go with you, that means. he’d try because he wants to make just about anything you want into a reality. a minute in silence slips away, like the coffee in his cup. you make it so perfect, he can’t keep his lips from the rim of the mug.

and while he’s content watching you sip away at your own drink, he likes hearing your voice so much that he’d like to fill the air with words rather than rustling clothes.

“you look extra short today,” he comments, a smirk splayed across his face. a screw must be loose in his mouth, because things that he’s not meaning to say keep falling from his lips. but he keeps thinking about the way your mouth tilted down just a little when you saw that your mug was higher up then usual, or the halfway annoyed smile you gave when he pulled it down for you. so this is the part where he just can’t help but tease, only because he loves you and doesn’t know how to show it.

“well, you must have grown in your sleep then,” you tease back, rolling your eyes. “what a rude thing to say,” you joke, “and here i was, thinking you were a gentleman.”

he shrugs, the smile on his face stretching wider. “i was just stating an observation.”

you tilt your head to the side and look at him with the hint of a smirk in your grin. “you know, you try to hide it, but i think you like that i’m shorter than you, don’t you, sam? which is silly, because most everybody is.”

he’s taken aback by that. he never expected you to call him out on it, to notice just how much he really enjoys being taller than specifically you.

“just stating an observation,” you quip when it takes him more than a moment to reply.

“and you like that i’m taller than you, so i guess that makes us even,” he grins. he pays plenty enough attention to you to know that it’s true.

you bite the inside of your cheek, already knowing you don’t have a better response to that. you raise an eyebrow at him. “fine. we’re even then,” you acquiesce, both begrudging and holding back a smile at the same time.

he tilts his head and looks at you with a glint in his eyes. “not that even,” he teases, clearly alluding to the difference in height between the two of you.

you roll your eyes again and scoff out a little laugh. “very funny,” you deadpan, unimpressed by the joke. you can feel him shifting closer to you, like he can resist it. his arm brushes against yours as he takes another sip of coffee. god, he’s flirty today. sam keeps you on your toes, he keeps you guessing and wondering and you know that he’s too nice to be sending mixed signals on purpose, but you just can’t tell.

you feel like you’re sitting on the bank of a river, dressed in white with a handful of daisies by your side and picking petals reciting “he loves me… he loves me not,” over and over again. today it feels like “he loves me.”