#//she's just got such a kind & giving heart and most people can't see past her addiction to get to it

[troublcmakcrs]

y'all: umm... whatcha got there?

me, with the oc i created solely to ship with tweek in his older verses: nothin, mind your fucking business

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Dating After A Toxic Relationship

A/N: Not requested, just an idea I had 😊 Remember, requests are open! Be sure to read my rules and please respect that I'm only interested in writing for these characters. Thank you! Feedback is always appreciated 💜

Butcher is very vocal. He knows you jump and scare easily, so he always makes a point to say where or if he's going to touch you, if he's upset and why (so that you don't worry you're the reason), when he'll be back, etc. This takes a lot of trial and error between the two of you. Butcher is an angry, violent person. You knew this going into the relationship. There's always a worry it could turn on you, and that's what he fears most: that you'd ever be afraid of him. He reassures you constantly he would never, ever hurt you. He knows all about what your ex did. You wanted to be up front and honest, knowing some of your behaviors might seem strange or out of place. The last thing he ever wants to do is emulate your ex and though it takes a lot of rewiring and assessment of his actions, he's trying to be better for you so that he doesn't lose you.

Hughie hates what your ex has done. Bit by bit, you give him the overview of your relationship, what they were like, and how they treated you. Sometimes you jump or flinch and he's reminded all over again that, despite what he does, there will always be this underlying fear and distrust. It took a long time to date him let alone tell him everything. He's patient and gentle and makes sure you're okay with every step you take further into the relationship. He takes every relationship show regardless of past history. When you see your ex again you have to pull Hughie away, not wanting him to start anything. He can't help it. He looks at them and he sees red. He's filled with disgust and hatred. Hughies always been on the timid side, but the thought of someone hurting you like that boils his blood.

Annie never wants you to feel like you have to hide that kind of thing from her. She knows all about power hungry people who take advantage of others. Still, she can't believe it. You're kind and funny and sweet and you always have everyone's best interest at heart. You know what it's like to get hurt, you wouldn't dare hurt someone else. She knows you don't want any trouble with them, you just want to move on, but she can't help but light up when she sees them. Secretly she goes to them and makes it known if they so much as look at you, even think about you, they're done. She's always asking if what you're doing is okay and wants to be as open as possible about boundaries. You're grateful she likes innocent touching, mostly hand holding, and when you're having a hard time you know she'll grab your hand and squeeze it, reminding you she's always here for you.

M.M knows all about your ex. He was the one to help you get out of that relationship in the first place. Since then you've become really close, so close he's now your boyfriend. After your ex shows up at your work one day, Marvin decides to take things into his own hands. The Boys make a special appearance at their apartment where they make it known they are never to go near you ever again. You have a lot of fears about trusting someone again, especially in a relationship, but M.M. is patient. He never wants you to feel like you have to do something you don't want to or aren't ready for. He's more than okay with taking things slow. He actually prefers it that way. He's extremely protective over you and, unfortunately, are his biggest weakness. If Homelander ever found out about you, M.M. would be done for.

Frenchie met your ex a few times before you broke things off. The way they spoke to you, wanted to control you, all the sings were there. He feels awful that he didn't see it sooner, but you could never blame him. You're just glad you got away from them. Frenchie is attentive and devoted and males sure you're comfortable with every step in your relationship. He offers, jokingly though not jokingly, to have your ex killed when they start sending calls and texts and emails. You assure him it's okay, you'll handle it. He knows you're more than capable, but he's always got a back up plan ready just in case they want to try anything more. He's extremely patient when you decide to tell him. He knows there's more to the story than what you're sharing, but he doesn't push it. He's grateful you shared anything at all. It's a big step and means a lot that you'd trust him.

Kimiko is learning to trust just like you are. You've both been through a lot, but you find a great solace in one another. Kimiko isn't sure who this random person is that shows up looking for you, only that the rest of The Boys are suddenly cagey, angry, and very protective. They're grateful you're not there. When she asks about them, you finally tell her. You dated a while ago and it wasn't a safe relationship. You thought you could get away from them, but they seek you out. They like to know they're in control. She feels awful. You're genuine and smart and sweet. Those terrible things that happened to you only made you softer and, unfortunately, more prone to anxiety and distrust. She leaves it up to you to take the next steps in your relationship. You appreciate more than you could ever put into words. You love her, but you need to take things slow.

Bonus! Homelander killed them a long time ago. The moment you showed up in his life, he knew there was someone who'd hurt you. It takes a long time to tell anyone, let alone him. One day the phone calls and texts and emails just stop. They stop showing up at Vought looking for you. You think you've finally scared them off or perhaps they got bored, but it was actually your new boyfriend. Normally he'd like to boast all about how he tortured them, h9w easy it was to kill them, how stupid they looked when he pulled out all their teeth, but he knows you wouldn't like that, so he keeps it to himself. He knows no one will miss them. You certainly don't. You're sleeping better now and getting more comfortable in your relationship without the constant threat of them showing up or following you. Homelander rests easy knowing they can never hurt you again. He lacks a lot of self-awareness in this department.

[mitch-the-silly]

Totally love your works. I have an angst idea 😆 so fem!reader and Vox have been in a long term relationship, like during the time Alastor was gone. Now that he's back, he's become his obsession and starts to neglect reader and brushes any affection she's trying to give and receive off. When she finally tries to talk to him about how he's focusing all his energy on the radio demon, he basically goes off on her and says how it's the only thing that matters. She, feeling unimportant, leaves and it's not until he sees her things gone from their shared place that he realizes he fucked up.

Can lead to him groveling like a simp and end in fluff comfort and makeouts. Or can end there if you wanted to leave your readers in suspense if you want to do it in two parts 😈 muaha I'm evil.

RAHHHHHH!!!!

I took some time with this one because I had to cook it up with care. When I tell you Alastor and Vox's dynamic is what I BREATHE FOR-

Now add someone else to the mix on Vox's side- This is something I've been waiting to write for WEEKS-

RAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

I was going feral writing this- Anyway, enjoy your angst >:DDD

This is a two parter!!!

Vox x fem!reader

Angst!!!

"Can't Seem to Hold Me, Can't Seem to Let Him Go" Pt.1

Part 2

It was a privilege to receive affection from Vox. Not even that, but it seemed that if it wasn’t for you, his life was boring and mundane. Nothing truly got him all excited and manic anymore, and he was starting to hate his life a little bit. He was already at the top of the game, he and the rest of the Vees were the most powerful overlords. What else was there to do around here?

But, well, all was not bad, he had you. While the power he held had a kick to it, there was nothing like the drug of rivalry. But with Alastor gone, he had to settle for the next best thing, love. Oh, it ought to be an adventure. And that drug had such a kick, oh he was obsessed with it.

And that’s where you came into the picture, he met you at a nightclub. So pretty and talented, just the kind of people he loved to surround himself by, just what he wanted, just what he craved… And you kept him as entertained as he needed to be. To the point that he felt like perhaps he was sort of falling in love with you. Oh, how the bliss of forgetting his fights of the past with a pretty woman. He’d allowed his heart the validation it needed and he figured if someone loved him as deeply as you did, truly everyone loved him.

Of course, he still had to balance Velvette and Valentino, but that was the mundane part of his power-hungry scheme. The mixture, of your attention and doting intertwined with his total control of the population… oh he was living the life… truly. Or at least that was what he tried to tell himself. Ever since Alastor disappeared, he felt a hole in his heart. Something that couldn’t quite be quenched by all the power the world had to offer or the women this land had to throw at him.

It was the pure thrill of obsession that he missed, that he craved, but no one was a worthy opponent to him anymore. Alastor was gone. Alastor… his one and only obsession… what was he to do now? He could not fathom being this bored and empty all eternity. But what could he do about it? Nothing but sit and sulk, truly. But to himself, of course, he knew that telling you this would just leave you confused about your position in his eyes. And he truly did care about you, but… you were the only interesting thing in his life, and his one fatal flaw was always wanting for more.

You had your arm linked with Vox’s, ascending from his TV surveillance room onto the upper floors. You tapped his shoulder, catching his attention. “You’ve got a little somethin’.” You chuckled, pointing at the corner of his mouth. “Let me get it.” You giggled, gesturing for him to lean down. He obliged and you wiped the edge of his lips with your thumb.

“Forgot to get that spot. It’s hard to get all of them, you know? You should start cleaning up your own mess.~” He teased.

“It’s not my fault someone wanted to make out down there…” You huffed jokingly, linking arms with him again. You two stood still, smiling like cardboard cutouts as you waited for the elevator doors to open. The second they did, a crowd surrounded you two. Asking both of you all sorts of questions. It was always this way, an everyday routine since Vox was a celebrity, and by dating him, so were you. Every public area you were in was nothing but camera flashes and microphones. It was a bit much at times, but Vox enjoyed it so much, that you didn’t seem to mind too much. Once their questions were answered, and Vox shooed them away, you two went to your destination freely. And you continued to do this for days and days after that. You loved your routine, and found peace in the sort of monotony you two had.

But oh no, no good thing lasts forever. An unlucky morning, you found yourself in Vox’s surveillance room, sitting on his lap, enjoying each other’s company. It was a day like no other, truly.

“Look at that!” He shouted, pointing at one of his monitors, “What does it feel like to be with someone so rich and fucking powerful, baby? Just look at how easily they flock to me~” He chuckled, caressing your face.

“Oh~ You’re just the perfect mastermind~ I’m the luckiest sinner in hell~” You cooed, kissing the bottom corner of his screen, leaving behind a red lipstick kiss stain.

“Why don’t you kiss a bit higher?~ You missed my mouth entirely~?” He cooed back, fake pouting at you as to request you kiss his lips.

You obliged, leaning closer to him, but just before you planted your kiss, his face blared with an incoming call screen. His ringtone was so stupid, but it was charming nonetheless. You saw who was calling him: Velvette. She was either calling to annoy him (which you totally respected; annoying Vox was your favorite pastime after making out with him), or because she needed something important. So you sat back down in his lap as Vox answered the phone, passing the call from his face to a television.

“Hello there, Velvette! How are you this… hellish morning?~” Vox chuckled, picking up his coffee mug and taking a sip from it, after which he pecked your lips. He was a huge fan of flaunting you to his fellow Vees.

“Oh cut the shit Vox. I need you up here. Now.” Velvette demanded, side-eyeing you slightly, but then smiling when you looked at her.

Vox, continued to tenderly touch you, caressing your cheek, not even looking at Velvette anymore, just admiring your precious face. “Whatever could be the problem, dear?”

“Well, your little boy-toy, is wrecking my department while I’m trying to pull together a show! And-” She paused, to turn behind her, Valentino could be heard in the background as flying body parts flew behind Velvette. It was most definitely another Valentino tantrum. Vox had no choice but to turn to her now… “So get your ass here! Now. And don’t bring your girlfriend, it’s NOT going to make Valentino feel any better, you know how he’s always bitching about her.” Velvette yelled, after which she turned around to yell at Valentino, immediately hanging up afterward.

Vox sighed, the adoring smile he gave you morphing into an annoyed frown. “Stay here, doll. I have to stop another tantrum…” He picked you up and placed you on his chair. Then he walked away, muttering under his breath about how tedious having to check on Val was and how he hated his life.

A bit of pity overcame you, but you figured it was simply the burden power came with. You frowned at being left out of the situation, but you smiled at the realization that you didn’t have to sit there and wonder what came of this whole fiasco. Vox’s cameras! Oh, they were all over the place, and you knew how to work the surveillance room perfectly.

So you began to observe him, watching him talk to some paparazzi, announcing a new product or line, perhaps, then leaving towards Velvette’s department. And ‘in shambles’ was an understatement when it came to describing what you saw in there. Models running around, Velvette yelling at some designers, Valentino had definitely thrown the place off course, but you knew Velvette had it under control. She was always on top of things.

You observed how she spoke to Vox, shooing him up to Valentino’s tower… You hated that place. You would have started off there if it wasn’t for Vox seeing you first. And oh the stories you’ve heard about it… You didn’t talk to Valentino much, but the very few times you did he was very passive-aggressive. You didn’t like him much, but you understood that the porn industry was something Vox needed to have control over in order to have the power he desired. You weren’t too fond of… his history with Vox, and you didn’t even wanna know if they still had something going on. You preferred to stay in the shadows about it. If anything was still happening, you were sure it was because Vox needed him in check. And Valentino was a tricky one for sure, but you’d rather not think about the subject.

You observed Vox enter Valentino’s quarters, his room was full of that red smoke he always had around him. You knew it was a drug of sorts… it made you sick to your stomach to think that maybe Vox was under it too… But, again, not something you liked to think about. Vox approached him and the second Valentino saw him, he got up, smashed his cocktail glass on the floor in pure rage.

You weren’t one to criticize people’s maturity (it’s not like your Vox wasn’t quite the man-child at times), but you hated the way Valentino tended to pounce at first signs of anything. His short temperament sort of pissed you off. Or maybe it wasn’t his temperament that ticked you, it was probably the attention Vox gave it. You proceeded to listen to their conversation, Valentino complaining about another one of his employees… Typical of him. It didn’t surprise you it was Angel Dust who he was bitching about. He always bitched about his star employee.

And you could tell Vox was uninterested, observing him text on his phone as Val ranted. Funny enough he was texting you. You found it so cute how perfect his grammar was over text. He loved to portray himself as refined and superior in every aspect.

Val’s rambling again

What do you wanna get for dinner?

I was thinking, maybe… Chinese?

What do you think, Doll?

After which, a phrase Val said caught his attention and he indulged him with a response. Response which was met with more screams and whines from Valentino. And just as you were about to text Vox back with the answer to his question, you saw how Val took Vox’s phone and smashed it into the wall. You sighed in annoyance. You were about to switch off their conversation until you heard Valentino say where Angel Dust was…

He was living with Lucifer’s daughter? Angel Dust living with Princess Charlie? This only meant he could be in one place, that hotel you heard her announce. Valentino rambled about going there and killing everyone there, which Vox immediately shut down. It was his perpetual situation. He always had to put Valentino in his place, reminding him that his delusions were not to be acted upon.

He always talked to Valentino like he was a child. He did the same to you too, but it was more loving… You were sure. When he spoke to Valentino that way, it was more condescending. You liked to hear that even Vox thought this was stupid. Either that, or he was using his TV Show Host Voice to get through to him. You huffed at the sight of Vox lighting a cigarette for Val, listening to what they were talking about again. Since you’d zoned out while mentally criticizing Val.

“You know…~ Angel isn’t the only one spending time at this ratty hotel with the devil’s Princesa~...” Valentino cooed, turning back to Vox who was messing around with some of Vaelintino’s things.

“Oh? Who else is in there? Someone who… owes you money?” Vox replied, as uninterested as before, but still attempting to put up a facade for his fellow Vee.

Valentino laughed at his response, “Someone who owes us much more than money~...” He chuckled, shaking the ashes off his cig.

Vox lifted a brow, pretending to care. But he was about to care about what Valentino had to say, very soon.

“The Radio Demon is there…~” Valentino cooed.

Vox’s demeanor switched in a millisecond. The mere name sent shivers down his spine, his hypnotic eye bulging on his screen as he dug his claws into the nearest piece of furniture. He began to crackle with electricity, his voice was low and extremely reverbed. "W̵h̵a̷t̸ ̴d̴i̵d̸ ̷y̶o̷u̷ ̷j̵u̵s̶t̶ ̷s̴a̴y̷.̵.̷.̵?̶ ” He muttered, turning slowly to Valentino.

You could see something in him change. It was a bit scary in all honestly, you knew Vox to be one to put up masks, but this one… it was one you didn't even know he had up.

“Oh, you heard me~.” Valentino replied, grinning back at him.

“Alastor… came back and he is with Lucifer’s d̶a̸u̶g̸h̴t̴e̵r̶ … and that wasn’t the F̷I̷R̷S̴T̴ ̵ F̷̺̕Ủ̷̺C̵͕̕K̵̟̚Ị̵̉N̸̺̂G̸͖̍ ̵͔̽T̷͍͊H̸̫͘I̸͇̒N̴̪͘G̵͙̿ ̸̦͠Y̵̜̎Ọ̴̍U̶̫̎ ̸̪͘T̴͓̕O̸̙̎L̵̼̓D̴̛̥ ̶͊͜M̷̮̆Ē̷̫?̴̧̆!̶͎̕ ” Vox roared, grabbing Valentino by the collar.

The taller demon brushed this gesture off, walking away from him, “Hey~ Killing Alastor is your kink~!” Val chuckled, sitting on a countertop near some monitors.

Without wasting a second, Vox zapped towards the little surveillance Valentino had in his room. You could barely see what was on that screen, but it was enough for you to be able to tell that The Radio Demon was in that footage. You watched the way Vox observed him. It was obsessive, so attentive and careful. It… it made you a tiny bit jealous, in all honesty. For the past seven years, he’d only looked at you that way, or rather, he’d never looked at you that way and to that extent at all.

You observed Vox mutter about Alastor, (ignoring Valentino’s complaints about Angel Dust) he was buzzing and crackling like crazy. Was he livid? Excited? You just couldn’t tell. But you didn’t have much time to think, because, in the blink of an eye, Vox wrapped his conversation up with Val and zapped his way out of his tower.

After which, you heard the doors to the room you were in open up. You got up, seeing Vox approach you. You tried to speak to him, but he shoved you to the side. “Not now Y/n. Go upstairs.” He commanded.

Sitting in his chair, he pressed a button, connecting himself to the machine before him. He was getting ready to broadcast.

His behavior took you aback. You couldn’t believe he’d done this to you. But what else could you do? He’d ignored you.

So you went up the elevator, observing his display via television.

He was losing his fucking mind. Spiraling. You’d never seen Vox like this. And yet, one would think he’d be pissed by this new discovery… but he was… genuinely smiling… you’d never seen him this happy.

Shit got interesting when Alastor responded, however, beginning his radio broadcast. Of course, Vox broadcasted this on the channel too with the intention of beating Alastor on air. A mistake he was sure to pay for. You watched Alastor tear him to bits, hearing even that Vox had asked Alastor to be a Vee and him rejecting the offer as the reason for their rivalry.

And then it clicked… Vox saw Alastor as his main priority. And if what Alastor said was true… Vox’s approach to this refusal was “If I can’t have him, I must destroy him.” Of course, you weren’t allowed to ponder on this much, since Vox began to glitch.

He was losing his patience, spiraling more and more, threatening Alastor until he caused a blackout and ending his broadcast.

Over the darkness of the room you were in, in the distance, you could hear the ominously menacing voice of Alastor as he warned Vox that the time of his reign was over… you could imagine what this made Vox feel. He’d essentially lost the argument by losing his composure.

Alas, you were sure you could try to find him downstairs. He confided in you, you were sure about this. So after a huge blow to his ego such as this, you had to go to him and console him. So you made your way back to his surveillance/broadcast room. You opened the doors to see him crouched down over a screen. He swiped through the footage of everyone in the Bee district speaking. “Where is he? Where is he broadcasting from?” he cried out, switching from screen to screen, checking every camera on every sector on the Pentagram. “He put a fucking tower in that hotel?!” he raged.

“Vox…” You mumbled softly, approaching him.

“Not now.” He blurted bluntly. “Ughh… I need to meet with the other two… Alastor’s return brings in a new set of problems.” He chuckled. And while he tried to sound as annoyed as possible, you couldn’t help but see that light in his eyes. One you didn’t even know was missing. He was obviously enjoying himself, but why? Why was he this excited?

“Don’t overexert yourself, ok?” You suggested, trying to look out for him.

“Don’t overexert myself? Alastor is fucking back! I’m not sleeping until this fucker is taken down!” He spat back, walking off.

You let him be, it seemed to be important. But as days went by, he began to spend less time with you to the point in which he began to ignore you. He’d shove you to the side to spend his day obsessing over sabotaging Alastor. Days passed and he shut you out, completely cutting you off in order to spend more time feeding his obsession. You couldn’t stand this, you had to tell him to turn your way.

So you went to his broadcast/surveillance room, observing the way he peered over his screens. Spreading rumors and lies about Alastor in order to smear his image. He muttered as if he was spiraling, speaking things that sounded like gibberish when paired with the sound of his revered and staticized voice.

“Vox…” You spoke, trying to catch his attention.

“W̶̥͗H̸̠͒A̵̳̓T̵̩̏?̷̲̕!̵͎̓” Box yelled, turning to you in annoyance.

“I need to talk to you.” You spoke, a bit taken aback by his reaction to you speaking to him.

“I’m too busy for that. Another day, sweetheart.” He spoke, shrugging you off.

“No, another day will not do. I want to speak now.” You demanded.

“Now’s not the time to be a brat. I’m busy and that’s final.” Vox huffed, attempting to get you to leave.

“Why are you ignoring me?! Ever since Alastor came back, you haven’t even said more than three sentences to me! Am I not important to you?” You cried out, getting all up in his face. If he refused to acknowledge you, you were going to make it impossible for him to do so.

“Hey hey hey! I’m busy! Go bother someone else, this is important!” He protested, pushing you away from him.

“You’re not listening to me!! Am I not important!?” You screamed, shoving his arms away from you.

“Alastor is important to me right now! Does that answer your question?!” He yelled back, turning away from you to do as he had before.

You stood there in shock, he’d essentially told you that you weren’t important to him. What was truly important to him was Alastor and the sabotage of his power. So you walked off, running away from him.

Vox did not realize what he’d done. He was too obsessed and preoccupied with his own obsessions that he didn’t seem to notice that he’d driven you away…

[woso-dreamzzz]

Champions League

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Alexia Putellas x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The second time you meet Alexia

The only fun thing about the Champions League this year is that, with Not-Wolfsburg in the final, you get to go back to Sweden.

You love going back to Sweden because it means Morsa doesn't force you to speak English all the time. It also means that you get to have your favourite foods practically on demand at the hotel and it doesn't take ages to get like when Morsa makes them at home.

"Why aren't you playing?" You ask Zećira as you all file out to sit on the bench.

She shrugs. "I think Emma has a plan."

"Momma says Barcelona is very good," You say," But they're in pink."

Zećira chuckles. "Does wearing pink mean that they can't play well?"

You shrug. "I dunno." You think for a moment. "Are the Barcelona girls cool?"

Zećira laughs again as she taps you on the nose. "Don't go turncoat on us," She says," You're a Chelsea supporter, aren't you?"

As you're talking, a deflection from Melanie tumbles into the goal and even you recognise the wince that all of the Not-Wolfsburg girls give. You've got a bad feeling that this won't go the way Momma and Morsa want it to go.

Your interest in the match dims after that until a penalty is given away. Like always when there's a penalty, you perk up and move to stand on Zećira's lap so you can see properly.

Jonna makes sure you don't wobble off and you watch with eagle eyes as Ann-Katrin goes the wrong way and the Barcelona eleven slots it home.

It's fairly impressive to watch and you're filled with that same bouncy energy you always get when you're allowed to watch penalties. It annoys Morsa and Momma, you think, the way that you're most animated watching people take penalties.

At Not-Wolfsburg, that's always when you come to take part in training. Not to shoot your own penalties, of course, but to help save the ones shot at Zećira.

Momma and Sam get some pretty good chances to shoot but it's either not on target or deflected by Barcelona's keeper.

Barcelona get another two goals in the first half and, in your heart, you know that Not-Wolfsburg has already lost so you don't even bother listening to the way the girls on the bench are trying to encourage each other to not give up hope.

But, they all seem to shut up and let everything sink in when Morsa comes beelining towards you when the halftime whistle rings. You're sitting right by the tunnel that all the players are going down.

You get up, ready to take Morsa's hand but she just falls to her knees in front of you and pulls you into the tightest hug of your life. You hug her back, feeling a little bad that the game is going this bad.

A few of the Barcelona girls do a double take as they walk past to their changing room. You're not sure why. Maybe it's because you're so little and Morsa's hugging you so tight.

Momma comes and kneels in front of you too, stroking her hand over her face and pressing her lips to your hair. She murmurs something in Danish that you can't quite hear but it makes Morsa sigh softly before releasing you.

"Sorry," You say to them both," That Not-Wolfsburg is losing."

"It's not your fault," Momma says," Come on. Let's get you nice and fed."

Coach Emma makes you leave the changing room after you've eaten. You know that means she's going to yell. She always makes you leave when she's going to yell, ever since the first time when your English was not so good and it scared you so much that you cried.

So, with your special drink and a packet of Ahlgrens Bilar, you sit outside and press your ear to the wall to try and hear what Coach Emma is saying.

The walls are thick though so you can't hear anything.

You kind of wish that you had gotten your girl-swan out of your bag because you're a little bored without it and you just have to kind of wiggle your legs on the floor to amuse yourself.

Coach Emma's still yelling and you huff and look down the corridor to the big room before the tunnel where a blur of pink is moving out to the pitch.

They're talking in Spanish like when you went to Barcelona last year with Momma and Morsa. You still don't know Spanish so you don't pay them much attention until the sounds of cleats get closer to you and you look up.

A few of the Barcelona girls have approached you, shifting on their feet like they're not too sure what to say.

You don't offer up any explanations to them. You just move to sit cross-legged in front of them and munch on your marshmallow cars. You look down at your packet briefly and then back at the girls, smiling and offering the packet up to them.

It gets smiles from them and a few even take some of your cars. The girl from the beach last year, the one with the dog who is also somehow Barcelona's eleven, crouches in front of you. This time, she doesn't try to speak Spanish at you.

"Your mamas are in there?" She asks, indicating towards the closed door of the Not-Wolfsburg changing room.

You nod.

She nods too. "And you will sit here and not wander, yes? So your mamas know where you are?"

You nod again.

She thinks for a moment. "Can I wait with you? To make sure that your mamas get you properly?"

You shrug. Coach Emma is taking longer than usual to yell at them. "Okay." You move to sit back against the wall again and take a long drink of your special drink. You don't know what it is (Momma never tells you) but it's nice and it's like being cradled up in her arms in Denmark in Momma's momma's house.

The other girls in pink head out to the pitch after beach girl tells them something in Spanish.

"You're going to win," You say simply.

It's clear that she doesn't expect you to say that because she looks at you all weird.

"Momma and Morsa are gonna be sad," You continue, squishing one of your sweets between your fingers," But that's okay 'cause Zećira says that she'll let me play in goal with her no matter what."

"You like playing in goal?"

"Uh-huh. Zećira's teachin' me. She's the best."

"Really?"

"I'm gonna be better though and I'm gonna get Momma and Morsa the Champions League medals they want."

"Princesse."

You look up to see Morsa in the doorway, her hand out waiting for you. Momma's behind her, with a much more friendly face as you approach.

"Putellas," Morsa says," What are you doing here?"

"Just keeping her company," Barcelona's eleven says," I'll...I'll go now." She heads off down the corridor and turns back to wave at you once before disappearing back through the tunnel.

"Momma?" You ask," Why's Morsa angry?"

"Morsa's just having some big feelings," Momma assures you as she walks you out and sets you up in your seat with more snacks, your baby blanket and your girl-swan," And no matter what happens, she's going to need our help with those big feelings later, okay?"

"Cuddles at bedtime?" You ask.

"Cuddles at bedtime," Momma confirms, pressing a kiss to your head before heading off to the rest of the team.

You look nervously at Zećira, leaning against her as she wraps part of her coat around you. "We're going to lose," You whisper," Morsa's going to be so sad."

It goes exactly as you expect and you feel a little wobble in your chest when the whistle goes and you see Morsa look up at the sky like she's trying not to cry.

Zećira helps you down from your seat and you sprint across the field to crash into Morsa.

She's definitely crying now and she drops to her knees and presses her chin onto the top of your head. She keeps repeating the same words to you over and over again. "I'm sorry, princesse. I'm so sorry, princesse."

You can feel her tears drip into your hair and you make sure to squeeze all of your love into the hug. "It's okay, Morsa," You say," I'll get you a gold when I'm older. I'll get Momma a gold too." You look at Momma over Morsa's shoulder. "I promise."

Momma joins the hug too as Morsa cries into your hair. "It's okay, Magda," She says," It's okay."

You stay glued to Morsa's side as Coach Emma brings everyone in for the huddle talk. Morsa's still crying slightly and you offer her your baby blanket for comfort, which she swings around her shoulders and holds like it's a lifeline.

"Momma," You whisper, tugging at her arms as you look nervously at Morsa," Momma, can we go now? Morsa needs cuddles."

"We've got to get our medals first," Momma says," Just a bit longer."

"No! Morsa needs cuddles now!"

"I know," Momma says," Just a little bit longer and we can all go back to the hotel and have lots of cuddles."

You relent briefly though it's not long before you've attached yourself to Morsa and she even carries you up onto the stage to get her medal, which immediately gets put around your neck.

"Is Morsa going to be okay?" You ask Zećira as she pulls you away to go play in goal as the Barcelona girls start getting their medals.

"Your Morsa's going to be just fine," Zećira promises you," She just needs some comfort from your Momma right now so we're going to set up here for a bit."

You look back at Morsa and Momma and then nod at Zećira. "Okay."

Even though she didn't play today, she still brought her gloves and helps you put them on.

"Okay," She says," Now, what's the most important thing when being a keeper?"

"Doesn't matter if it goes in, as long as I try," You reply.

"Good."

She takes little shots at the goal for you to save and then chips one over your head when she notices you're distracted looking at Morsa again.

Both of you completely miss the approaching figure until she stops in front of you.

"Hello again," Putellas says.

"Hi."

Zećira takes a step forward, almost protectively but Putellas doesn't seem to care, kneeling down so she can be your height and peering past Zećira's leg to properly look at you.

She's in a different shirt on now but she's still got the pink one in her hands too. Her medal is around her neck like Morsa's is around yours. She's smiling at you too, holding out the hand with the shirt to you.

You step past Zećira and cautiously reach for it. You hold it in your hand before tugging it over your head. You smile back at her.

"Can I play?"

You look at Zećira, who shrugs.

"Your choice."

You look back at Putellas. "Okay."

She kicks the ball gently at you a few times and smiles every time you make a save. Zećira stays nearby, sometimes approaching to give you little tips or to tie your hair back and adjust your gloves.

Morsa and Momma finally come over a long while later. Morsa's finally stopped crying but you don't even try to save Putellas' shot as you approach Morsa to make sure she's okay.

"Better now that I've got you," She says when you ask, heaving you up onto her hip as Momma presses ticklish kisses to your face.

Putellas stands there awkwardly, now completely outnumbered by Chelsea girls.

But Morsa smiles at her, tugging down at your new jersey. "We don't have a wall here, princesse. Why don't you go and stand next to Alexia and we can take your picture?"

You wiggle down and crowd into Alexia's space. She crouches down to your height as Momma takes out her phone. Her hand goes to rest on your shoulder as you beam up at the camera.

"That's being framed," Morsa says.

(It does get framed and put on your bedside table where it's joined over the years with pictures of you with other footballers)

Alexia awkwardly clears her throat. "Can-Can I have a copy?" She asks, almost shyly," I think it would be nice to have one to remember her by when she's the best keeper in the world."

Momma laughs in delight and nods," Put in your number. I'll send it to you."

"Best keeper in the world," Zećira says wistfully as she helps you pull off her gloves," You're going to have to keep training hard."

"She will," Morsa says," She's going to get enough medals to give out to a whole team."

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

Unintentional

Pairing- Ao'nung x Sully!reader

Summary- After moving in with the Meykayina people and learn their ways you unintentionally catch the heart of the Olo'eyktans son.

Request-yes

Tìyawn- love

Moving to Awa'atlu was hard, it was even harder when the a few of clan members kids wouldn't stop picking on you and your siblings. Most stopped after a while, but Ao'nung was relentless and you just ignored him as your father wanted you to. But sometimes you could see a little glimmer in his eyes when he saw something he loved and you had a little hope that he would stop. And he did, he started helping you and your siblings learn the ways of the Meykayina without being a total ass about it. And in return you did what you always did put on a shining smile and be kind.

Ao'nung was going crazy however. When you and your family first came to his home he was skeptical, why would the great Toruk Makto need sanctuary? And when his father allowed you to stay saying yes and that he and his sister would help you guys learn the way of water, he went ballistic. But when he saw you and when you sent a sweet smile that could make the grouchiest Na'vi smile back his heart rate spiked, palms became sweaty, and his tail wouldn't stop wagging. What did you do to him? And the more he watched you learn the more this curse you put on him grew and grew.

But he refused to believe it as he believed he hated you, but did he really.

After a few months, after putting all the bullying in the past the closer he got to you and your siblings the more his heart grew for you. And it was settled Ao'nung the son of the Olo'eyktan was in love with you, Y/N daughter of Jake Sully the Tourk Makto.

So piece by piece he started to collect things he saw you liked and he put them together and made a beautiful gift that just so happened to be a satchel, the holder was a big a beautiful clam like she'll that opened, and surrounded the outer of it were silver pearls, and the strap like thing that took him weeks to make were all kinds of gems and stones that you would stare at on the beach he would slyly pick it up and at night he made it, and not he is giving it to you.

Ao'nung was not one to be shy when talking to people but when he saw you he's hands instantly became soaked in sweat. He ran to you, "Hey Ao'nung why are you in such a rus-" cut off by him giving you the satchel and him running off. You look at the bag and run your hands over stones you pick you head up and expect him to be there but he wasn't.

And that's what would happen, he would give you gifts, bouquet of flowers he picked just for you, necklaces, head pieces, tops he forced Tsireya to teach him how to make. Then he would take you on walks just the two of you, he held you arms as you interlocked yours with his you talked about all kinds of things. His feelings only grew as yours started to blossom.

You thought he was just being nice, but everyone in Awa'atlu knew what was going on Ao'nung chose you and it seemed maybe you would choose him. But, there was another person who didn't know Ao'nungs intentions, Jake Sully. He was confused, why was his daughter getting so many gifts, did you make them, did you finally get new friends. Those questions ran throughout your father head but he shrugged them off, but he couldn't really shrug anymore when he would walk through the clan and would here ".....y/n....." In multiple peoples conversations.

Here he is cutting fruit with your Neytiri, "Hey 'tiri." He began cutting the small fruit he had into fourth. "Yes Ma Jake." She said cutting the larger fruit into squares. "Why is Y/N getting so much stuff I know she can't be making all this stuff herself." He chuckled picking up a necklace you must have dropped. Neytiri looked at him bewildered, he didn't know you were being courted? She never knew if the sky people had courting traditions like they do here on Pandora but this just answered a lot of her questions.

He looked at his wives expression and a nervous laugh came out of him, "What." He said. "She being courted." Neytiri smiled at the thousands ght of her eldest being able to find love. But then she saw her husband and his face. "Who?" He asked clicking his teeth right after. "Oh Jake do not do that." Neytiri scolded him for being such a baby. "I'm not doing anything who is it?" He asked again and Neytiri only shook her head before sighing. "Ao'nung I believe." As soon as the words left her mouth Jake's jaw fell to the floor. "Him!" He yelled. "Oh yes him he makes her smile makes her happy they are actually on a walk right now." Neytiri regretted telling him as soon as he walked out of the pod and running to the beach.

He spotted you and Ao'nung in the water his hands around your waist, "Oh hell no." Jake whispered to himself before walking over to you two.

"What are you doin." He asked crossing his arms over his chest as he looks at Ao'nung and hands on your hips. Ao'nung looks at where your father's eyes laid and he removed his hands and you stepped back. "Oh me and Ao'nung were just swimming." You say cheeks covering a shade of indigo. "Yeah looked like swimming to me come on your mom wants you home." Jake said. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. "She said I didn't have to be home till an hour before Eclipse me and Ao'nung actually got food for a picnic." You say grabbing his hand from under the water making him smile at you.

His eye twitches, "Well she wants you home now so picnic later sorry Ao'nung." He says picking the basket of fruit up. "Oh," you say looking at So'nung apologetically. "It is okay tìyawn." He said giving a small smile before tilting his head downward. Jake's ears perked at the pet name he called you. "Okay I'll see you tomorrow." You say giving him a small peck on the cheek. Jake's mouth fell open as you got out of the water, he was stunned his little girl isn't little anymore. He walked after you and caught up with you.

The walk was silent for a while before he spoke, "Tìyawn really." He joked making you giggle. "Yeah dad really." You reply before laughing again. "Gross." He said making both of you burst at the seems with laughter.

[gietterbug]

Spy x Family Code: White - Highlights

*This post contains spoilers. Scroll away if you still need to watch the movie. **Reposted because it didn't show in the tags.

Since the movie is out and has been circulating on the internet, I would like to talk one thing or two about it. I'm overjoyed about the release and have watched the movie numerous times. So here are some highlighted scenes, or at least the ones that have become my favorites and lingered in my mind for way too long.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

First off, this scene. It's just a small gesture of Loid because apparently he's worried about Yor's mouth due to the "irritating" lipstick she's wearing.

But tell me, what kind of man would give a woman such a pleasant little gift if he did NOT love her. It's not like, "You're nothing to me. Here's a new lipstick for you!"

Loid is not going to declare "I LOVE YOU" explicitly; the hell is he going to, but we have eyes, and we see. Your small gesture and little gift say everything I need to hear, and I won't take your for the mission excuse anymore, Loid Forger.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I'm fully aware that the "Yor getting jealous" trope is becoming redundant nowadays. Some people say they're overdoing it and no longer find it interesting to talk about. But I beg to differ. I'm still on the Yor's jealousy bandwagon because it's become a crucial element in her and Loid's relationship. Yor does not necessarily have the right to get jealous and upset about the idea that there is someone else in Loid's heart. Heck, I dare say she can't pull out the "wifey" card because we know it's all fake.

But that's not that.

For me, to say that Yor is jealous there might be another woman in Loid's life is an understatement. It's not to say she is being greedy, but she does want Loid, and only him, not just because she's technically his wife—her genuine feelings for him are growing, and we can see that. She does not want to lose him, let alone to be out of the picture. It's Yor being true to herself. It's Yor fighting for her love and affection for Loid.

Extras:

Yor's heart is already shaken at the possibility of Loid cheating. And HE does not help by throwing such flattery and complimentary comments about his wife. This dense man…

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I liked what Anya did in this scene.

Afraid of her family falling apart, she tried everything she could to prevent that, and that is... through her parents' flirting 😏

She's still a little kiddo, but being the telepath that she is, she still wants her family to stay intact. Anya pushing Loid and Yor together to have some kissy-kissy time never gets old, to be honest. I always enjoy it every time she does that. Anya recollecting what Becky said about divorce and the "supposedly" bloodbath also added some comedic sense to the scene.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

This has got to be my #1 favorite.

The only physical intimacy in this scene is just Loid putting his hand on top of Yor's. Nothing more. Okay, we may have moved past that episode where LoidTwilight pulled a honeytrap on Yor, AND we can't dismiss the fact that maybe, there's a definite chance that he just used her.

But this time, he is determined to keep Yor around for real. He even restated his granade proposal to stick with each other—basically their wedding vows—and had no intention to break that promise. What's this smell? It's a whiff of peak romance.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

This scene made me feel warm and fuzzy.

What came to my mind when I was watching this scene was that although Twilight is the best and most renowned spy there is, he's still lacking some things. One of them is, for sure, parenting, which we saw from the earlier episodes of the series, he picked it up from books.

Yor always plays along with Anya to keep her entertained, and it's also one of her ways of parenting that some people may have dismissed. Yor arguably does better in this field than Twilight from her own experiences, the big chunks of which were from when she raised little Yuri. This should eliminate the questionable discourse of Yor "unfitting" for the mother role.

This scene got extended to when Yor told Loid that it was a family trip, that Anya was looking forward to this trip, and that they all should go together.

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This may be the last for now: the Forgers walking hand in hand at the end.

I couldn't imagine the hardships this family went through throughout this movie. (Ok, I know some were absurd, but let's move past them for the sake of this post.) Despite being a fake family, they still came as one and worked hard together to put things back in their place and resolve all the problems. Like... they didn't have to do that; their family is a pretend. But they did. They're complete, and it's so beautiful to see ❤

[sylveon-and-velveon]

@fandomhungryuwu You son of a bitch I'm in! I love that song so much XD

Playing "Here Comes the Hurricane Bitch" around the slashers

This will include: Michael Myers {OG & RZ}, Brahms Heelshire, Jason Voorhees, Billy Lenz, Freddy Krueger, Stu Macher, Billy Loomis, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Harry Warden, Tiffany Valentine

Feel free to request any shitpost writing prompt ideas you can think of in my asks, I love silly non-serious ideas XD

OG Michael Myers

Silently judging you

Also probably just hearing a bunch of random noises instead of the absolute banger that is this short song

Yeah my headcannon still stands on this man being a Kate Bush fan. That man would would fucking listen to her songs while killing people

Slowest middle finger you've seen someone give you while "HERE COMES THE HURRICANE BITCH" is blasting out of the speakers

RZ Michael Myers

Confused would be an understatement for him

But he'd mainly be annoyed by the loud noise blasting from the device you're playing it from

Reminds him of the shitty people from his past :<

Just turn down the music enough for you both to vibe to while eating some yummy food :D

Brahms Heelshire

Bro hears "hurricane" and one of two things happen:

1: He thinks a hurricane is nearby.

2: He's confused as fuck on what a hurricane is

Secret third option is BOTH-

Please reassure this poor man that it's just a song, until he either understands or stops freaking out TvT

Homie only knows the sound of pianos

Jason Voorhees

Nothing sexual? Damn he's fine with it, just a little uncomfy with the continuous "bitch"

Other than that he's happy to watch you enjoy the music, even if you're going full gremlin mode throughout it all

If you're happy, he's okay with it

Just don't start blasting NSFW music in his vicinity-

Billy Lenz

Wanna see a gremlin be a gremlin with you? Billy's got ya back!

Whether he understands the song or not, he will be a gremlin with you the second he sees you are now a gremlin to the music.

You are now one with his gremlin kind, you can't run now

I dunno what that means either, but it makes sense XD

Freddy Kreuger

Pure chaos, that's the song. Of course he'll love it

But the second he finds out there was indeed a hurricane called "Katrina"? Ohohoho.... ya fucking lost him

What, is he dying of laughter? Dunno, but ya lost him XD

Oh he'd totally copy how "bitch" is said in the song as an inside joke between you two

Stu Macher and Billy Loomis

Oddly enough I think they'd be their own type of gremlins to the music

Billy's killing someone to the beat of the chaotic music that's somehow a vibe

Stu's just going fucking feral to the music, enjoying his heart out

You're either watching the chaos unfold or joining in with one of them

No inbetween-

Thomas Hewitt

Oh look another judger-

Probably not judging as much as the others

If the music makes you happy, he doesn't mind

But that ain't stopping him from being confused at your taste in music being in his mind "loud and obnoxious"

Bubba Sawyer

The most confused out of all of them, change my mind

Doubt anyone's told him what a tornado is, let alone a hurricane

Also I highly doubt he's seen either in action, that be on TV or not

He'll probably vibe with you, but just a little confused on everything about the music lol

Harry Warden

My point still stands, I need GIFs of this man-

But with the music? Most traumatized

You've somehow unlocked some kind of PTSD that motherfucker had in the back of his mind

Totally not helping when you're blasting the music that literally says:

"HERE COMES THE HURRICANE BITCH-"

Tiffany Valentine

All here for it

Oh she's slaying the music with all her outfits

Probably would join in with you dancing to the music, but would take it a little more seriously lol

Is my love for her fabulous outfit choices too obvious?

[audzss]

Thin Line ~2~

Summary: After the fateful night of Rafe crawling through Y/n's window, everything went back to normal. Until a week later, when there's a familiar knock. Y/n can't help but wonder what kind of game Rafe is playing.

Thin Line Masterlist

Word Count: 1,412

Warnings: Talks of Domestic Violence

Thin Line

When Y/n had woken up, Rafe was already gone, the only reminiscence of him was a crumpled up blanket on the side of the floor where he slept. The fact that he had just left without even letting her know made her feel a little weird, like it was something that she had to hide.

When she had showed up to her first college class that morning, Rafe seemed completely un-phased by what had happened, like he didn't have a care in the world, his bruised cheek and eye being shown to everyone, but no one dared to ask. In fact, most people probably already knew what happened, Ward wasn't very good at hiding the way he treated his own son.

As she walked past him, he just mumbled the usual, "Bitch.", and she just scoffed, walking past and mumbling her usual "Douche." This whole situation left something inside of her feeling deeply unsettled, almost feeling bad for him. Well, she would have felt bad for him, if he wasn't such a dick.

At Lunch, Y/n's friend sat at the same table as Top, her boyfriend. Which happened to be Rafe's bestfriend. Great, just her day. When he sat down, he immediately targeted her. "Huh, didn't know the circus was in town." Y/n Immediately stood up, ready to walk up to him and beat his ass, and she would have, if it wasn't for her friend who dragged her back into her seat.

Over Lunch, they had only said a few more words too each other. Mostly insults, some arguing over random shit that their friends were bringing up, and it finally felt normal again. Normal if Y/n ignored the nagging feeling of her heart strings tugging every time she looked up and saw the bruises on his face.

-

"He did what!?" Y/n's bestfriend yelled over the phone. She really, really tried not to tell her what Rafe did, but she just couldn't get the whole thing off her mind. Anytime she had a moment to think about anything, her mind would always lead her to a panicked Rafe forcing himself through her window, crying and begging her to let him stay over.

"It's not that big of a deal, we all know how Ward is.. I just feel bad, like maybe I'm being too mean to him." Y/n mumbles, tapping her pen on her desk while she stares at her homework that she has no plans of completing anytime soon. Chelsea scoffs over the phone.

"Y/n, he was being a dick first. You have every right in the world to be a bitch to him."

She groans, letting her head fall into her hands. "I just-", she stops at the sound of someone knocking.. on her window. She looks over to see a tired looking Rafe through the glass, his head is down and one of his hands is scratching at the back of his neck.

There’s got to be a reason he came back to her house, there’s no way his dad took his car keys again. Besides, why would he want to be here in the first place? They don’t like each other, they don’t get along, they can’t be around each other for more than 30 seconds without throwing insults around left and right, so why is he coming to her?

She sighs and looks back at her phone, "I.. I'll call you back Chelsea.." She says with a sigh before hanging up and getting up off of her desk chair, walking towards the window yet again. She slides the glass up quietly, and Rafe finally decides to look up at her.

He looks thoroughly exhausted, heavy bags under his eyes that he looks like he's having trouble keeping open. She just sits there staring at him for a second, giving him a frustrated look. He opens his mouth, then stops himself, Y/n wonders what he was going to say.

"What are you doing here, again." She mumbles, watching him frown and look down, fumbling his hands together in an anxious way. "Can I come in..?" He whispers, and Y/n doesn't know if it's on purpose or if he's too tired to talk any louder.

"Wow, actually asking me this time? How thoughtful of you." She says, rolling her eyes. He furrows his eyebrows, quickly losing his patience. "Can I come in or not?" He says a little louder, his voice sounded like it was barely working.

Y/n sighs and moves out of the way, allowing room for him to pull himself up and into her room. At least he's not soaking wet this time around.

She carefully closes her window, not wanting to make much noise, before looking back at Rafe. "You look tired." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Ya' think?"

Y/n crosses her arms, giving him a pointed look that says 'if you keep acting like this I'm kicking you out.' He presses his lips together and looks around a little, before walking towards her desk and settling in the office chair that she had just been sitting in to do her homework.

"What are you doing?" Y/n asks, annoyed that he's waltzing around like he owns the place, typical Cameron. "I think-" He interrupts himself with a yawn, "I think I'll sleep in the chair, the floor hurt my back."

"No, this is my house, your sleeping on the floor. Besides, I was doing homework." She states, walking over to where he's sitting down, his eyes closed but his face still tense.

"Right, we get it, your better than everyone else miss 'I do my homework every night'." He uses finger quotations for the last part, and Y/n's patience is running thin. "Get. Out. Of. The. Chair." She says, one last time. He squints one eye open to look at her before sighing and standing up, wobbling around a little.

She smiles and seats herself down on her chair, but her little moment was almost immediately ruined by the person who ruins it best. As she turns around to revel in her win, she see's Rafe splayed out on her bed.

She hurriedly stands up. "Have you lost your mind! You are not sleeping in my bed." He just mumbles something incoherent and buries himself deeper into the pillow.

"Rafe!!" She almost yells, wincing at the fact that her dad might have just heard that. He groans and turns over onto his back. "I get it, we hate each other, but I just wanna sleep here.. until your done.. with.." He trails off, already falling asleep.

Y/n almost laughs at that.. Not the falling asleep part, nope, definitely not endearing. "Pfft.. You don't hate me, if you did you wouldn't be here." But before she could coax an answer out of him, he was already asleep. She groans and gives up, allowing him to sleep there, just until she was done with her homework of course.

-

After a two long hours of what felt like an endless amount of numbers and equations, she was finally done with all her homework. Her eyelids felt too heavy as she limped over to her bed, before remembering that a Rafe Cameron occupied it. She looked over his sleeping figure before reaching out and shaking him.

"Rafe.. Wake up.." She mumbled, shaking him a little harder, but to no avail. At this point, she was too tired to deal with this, and it would just have to wait until morning. She pushed his arm and leg over, making enough room for her to lay down without being close to him.

She yawned, reaching out to turn off her lamp.

"I'm scared, Y/n." She immediately stopped in her tracks, that bastard, he was awake the whole time. It took her a good ten seconds before his words even processed in her brain.

"Huh..? Of what..?" She mumbled, sitting up to turn and look at Rafe, who was staring at the ceiling with a lost look in his eyes. "He keeps.. He's getting worst, last time I was here.. because I left the fucking front door open.. I didn’t mean too..”

Y/n's heart drops at his words, and no matter how much she despises Rafe, she wouldn't wish something like this on her worst enemy. "I.. I'm sorry Rafe.." She whispers, truly meaning it.

When he finally looks at her, his eyes are half way closed and glossy, his bottom lip trembling. "I don't.. know what to do." He breaks down, tears streaming down his red cheeks.

Y/n doesn't even think before laying down beside him and putting an arm around his body, stroking up and down his arm in a soothing manner. "It's okay.. You'll figure it out, I promise."

[dronebiscuitbat]

Kiara's Introspection

(I'm sorry in advance- this might trigger some folks. *it's also me venting a 'lil*)

Kiara lays staring at the ceiling, counting the minutes and the seconds as they tick by. It's nearly 10pm, and she should definitely be going to sleep. She has school tomorrow.

Still a quiet dread builds within her, anxiety burning within her core as another minute ticks by. The two story house is quiet, she can hear the soft breeze pushing a branch against the glass of her window, the insects and the creatures of the night calling their symphony. It should have been calming…

“Our daughter is with a freak!” Crash.

She closes her eyes at that, the quiet dread blooming into a miserable kind of acceptance that spread out from her core and into her limbs and her very fingertips.

“Our daughter is happy! Why can't you see that!” Thump.

They weren't talking about her. Rarely was there an argument about Kiara herself, she was the good girl, never acting out, never talking back, never an… incorrect type of feeling. No, they were talking about;

“It's not right Delilah! It's not right! Bennita-

“Benji! You can't even call him by his name?! If Zoey knew you were speaking this way she'd-

“Not a He! I don't give a damn what she'd say! Maybe she'll finally see reason!”

They were talking about her older sister, Zoey, who had moved out to live with her boyfriend- a boyfriend that used to be a girl. Benji.

“She'll tear you a new one! That's what she'll do. And you know that too! Otherwise you'd say it to her face!” Thunk

“It's not how we were made! She should know better, Kia knows better! We raised them better!”

She flinched at that, the words swirling around her processors like a typhoon during the wet season.

I know better… I know better.

What did she know better? That Benji was a boy? That Zoey loved him?

That… that she was supposed to like boys?

She did though, she did like boys, Rad was cute and funny, his eyes were bright and full of life. He had a wonderful singing voice… he was kind.

She did- but.

The feeling of her best freinds shirt wrapped around her body suddenly felt heavy- and not in a good way. Like it was trying to suffocate her. But if she ever tried to take it off it didn't often make the feeling better, just made her feel more alone, more confused.

She liked boys.

The grew to something even more painful, her core feeling like it was squeezing hard.

Was it wrong to look at a girl in a pretty dress and see that it was pretty? That she looked pretty?

That wasn't wrong right? It was fact… objective. Someone got dolled up and looking nice and so she takes notice -wether their in a suit or a dress.

But the pain got worse instead of better, it was making it hard to breathe. The argument downstairs grew in intensity.

“And you know the Doorman girl is too! Look at her! Look at the way she dresses, the way she acts- what kind of example is that setting?!”

She was happy she didn't hear the slur that he was referring to, she had before, but this time she'd gotten lucky.

That was about Tera.

“You are not barring her from seeing her! They're family at this point! You'll break her heart!”

The pain that was coiled in her core identified themselves, they were sobs, sobs that came out harshly as they pushed past her throat and spilled out of her mouth.

“She'll ruin her! She's already bringing stuff from that damn house home!”

A bad influence, A freak, more names she wouldn't dare even think because attaching them to her best freind felt like the worst type of slander.

Tears pricked at her eyelights, couldn't they give it a rest?! There was nothing wrong with Tera, nothing. Why couldn't he see that?

She was boyish, sure. Standoffish, most definitely. But she was so strong, and brave, and… warm. So warm, and so inviting. Willing to listen, and to understand. She was one of the kindest people she had ever known.

Was that bad…?

No…

No it wasn't bad. That's how freinds should make you feel, warm and happy.

Safe.

Freinds make you feel safe.

“Listen to me bitch! She's my daughter! I can control who she sees!”

“And you don't think Uzi will question why her daughter's closest freind suddenly doesn't want to see her?! You don't think Tera won't be able to just ask her, and her not say “Daddy won't let me see you?!”

“Fuck you!”

It… it wasn't happening. She wouldn't be stopped from seeing her. Mom wouldn't let that happen… it wasn't happening. It wasn't happening.

A pathetic whimper escaped her as she trembled with more sobs. Safe. She wanted to feel safe.

Tera made her feel safe, she'd always made her feel safe. Like nothing could ever touch her as long as she was wrapped in her arms and sheltered by those leathery wings. And she'd purr, and that was so calming; like personalized white noise.

Pain creeped into her core again- that was wrong… wasn't it?

It didn't feel wrong. But her processors began to scream and her head began to hurt.

Was it wrong to like the way Tera looked in a suit? Was it wrong to say she was handsome?

Was it wrong to think about running into her arms, to be bathed in her warmth? To hold her hand?

Was it wrong to feel that way?

Tera wasn't a boy.

She liked boys

Was she wrong? Was she damaged? Because Tera wasn't a boy.

But she liked her.

She was supposed to know better… what did that mean?

Was this a choice? It didn't feel like a choice…

She… liked… boys?

[mikachacha]

𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛) 𝙿𝚝. 1

Synopsis: As Bada's fame grew, the further you grew apart. It was becoming too much that one night, you sat her down as you made the difficult decision to go on your separate ways. But then there's still a hope inside of you that maybe like the leaves that grow back from the bareness of trees after the harsh winter, your love will grow stronger from this challenge that life has thrown. You're still hoping that the wounds from the past will eventually heal and all will be alright in time.

Warnings: Angst and language

(A/N: I was supposed to make this really sad for both parts but people talked me out of it 😌😌)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸

As Bada's popularity grew, the further you grew apart. There were more fights than time spent together. It reached the point where you're now contemplating if you're gonna leave or stay because it seems like everything you and Bada once cherished is gone. So one night, you sat her down. You already had your bags packed just in case this talk with her doesn't end well, you're gonna have to move out so you and her could heal separately from everything that went down between you the past few months.

"Can't we talk about this tomorrow, Y/N? I'm really tired and all I want to do is sleep." Bada asked, clearly irritated. You tried your best to not cry at her tone. You wanted to have this one serious talk with her. Maybe it's gonna be the last time you're gonna talk to her. You took a deep breath before looking at her, a sad smile painting your face.

"I know you're tired, Bada but I'll try to make this quick, I promise. After this, you're free to do whatever you want. I won't be bothering you anymore. Just give me this time to talk, just give us this time to really talk." you told her and Bada could feel her heart start to beat fast. She noticed how sad you looked but you're still trying to smile even though there were tears trying to escape your eyes.

"W-what are we gonna talk about?" Bada asked, clearly nervous now. She has this unpleasant feeling in her stomach that only got worse when she saw you wipe some stray tears from your cheeks. You looked at her and sighed. Even though things may not end up being great between you and her, you're still gonna be there to support her even though it's gonna be from afar.

"So I've been thinking about this for quite some time, Bada.. It's hard, it's not the easiest decision for me to make but seeing how we drifted apart from each other the past few months, I think it's time for us to let go of each other. It doesn't mean that I don't love you anymore, I still do. But what else are we holding on to at this point? We're always at each other's throat, every conversation ends up with us screaming at each other and just hurting each other with words. Hell, we don't even sleep in the same bed. I know everything is going well with you right now, career wise and I'm not gonna make you choose between me and your dreams so I think it's better for us to part ways.." you told her and your words left Bada stunned. She was so focused on her career, on her ambitions that she pushed you away. The first person who really believed that she'll reach this kind of success, the person who was there for her through everything.. The person who loved her despite everything.

"Y/N.. Please don't leave me, please.. I'll change, I promise. Just please— don't leave me.." Bada begged, even knelt down in front of you while begging for you to stay. It made your heart ache seeing her like that but at this point you're just so done. Not that you don't believe her but she always begs you to stay with her, maybe show you some changes for a few weeks at most then it goes back to the same routine. You held back your sobs and walked past her, grabbing your belongings and exiting the apartment you shared with her. You sat in your car for a bit, just crying your eyes out at how horrible you felt leaving her like that but it's for your own good. It's better to let go than keep holding on to the things that hurt you.

Bada was left there, her tears wouldn't stop falling. She went to chase after you after she found the strength to get up and get out of the apartment but you were already long gone. Bada walked back to the apartment crying and just cursing herself for how stupid she was. She lost you while chasing her dreams. She lost someone important because she was way too focused looking ahead without realizing that someone is left behind.

You stayed at a friend's house for a bit until you can find an apartment you can rent. Everyday you spent far from Bada was pure agony. You wanted to go back to the apartment you once shared with her and ask her to take you back even though you were the one who broke up first but you must stay strong. It's important that you put yourself first before you can go love someone once more. It's gonna be hard to go back from the start but you promised yourself that you're gonna do your very best to pull through this.

It has been half a year since you and Bada broke up. You already forgave her and forgave yourself from everything that transpired between you. It's a long process but day by day, you were slowly rising back up. You still supported her, watching this competition she's on with her team. You're still amazed at her dances, her leadership skills and most importantly, you're happy that she's doing so much better even without you. She's thriving and you love that for her.

"Shit I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.. Fuck.." you cursed under your breath, panicking a little since you spilled your iced americano on someone's clothes. Your mind was preoccupied by something and didn't notice someone in front of you then you bumped in to them.

"It's okay, Y/N.. You don't have to say sorry." your eyes widened in shock as you heard Bada speak. You looked up at her, she's holding back tears as she's looking at you. There's pain and longing in her eyes that made your chest hurt once more.

"Bada.. It's been a while.." was all you could say as you were holding back sobs. You thought you were finally okay but seeing her right now made all the pain and memories flood back in your mind. You're honestly lost, all you wanted to do is hide away like you did.

"I looked everywhere for you, Y/N.. Tried to call you, tried to message you, tried everything but it was no use. You changed your number, deactivated your social media, no one knows where you are.. I missed you Y/N, so much. I know apologizing won't make the things that was said and done disappear but I still want to say sorry to you for everything I did.. I didn't deserve you back then, still don't deserve you until now.." Bada's words felt like a stab to the heart by a million blades. She looked for you, did everything she can to hopefully make it up to you but she couldn't since you changed phone numbers and just hid away. Not even your closest friends knew where you lived. You just wanted to hide away to heal.

"I forgave you, Bada. I already did a long time ago.. And I'm sorry for not reaching out to you but believe me, I celebrated every milestone in your life from afar.. I didn't stop supporting you, didn't stop praying and wishing that you reach all of your dreams in life." you gave her a smile though your tears have fallen to your cheeks.

"I know this will sound stupid right now but Y/N, I want to be in your life again.. I tried so hard to forget you, to move on from you but I couldn't. My heart still beats for you, everything reminds me of you and your love.." Bada cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears with her thumbs. You're not gonna start lying to yourself and say you don't love her anymore because you still do. The feelings you had for her never faded. If you were to choose who you will love, who you want to be with even on the next life, your answer will always be Bada. But even with those thoughts, there's still fear lingering in your mind. What if you end up hurting each other again? You don't know how you're going to deal with it once more if it happens.

"I don't know, Bada.. I really don't know. I want to let you back in but I'm scared. What if we end up hurting each other again? I don't know if I'm able to deal with that kind of pain again.." you told her truthfully and you could see from Bada's eyes how her heart broke hearing those words from you. What she did in the past still haunts her to this day.

"I understand, Y/N.. I do. But please let me make it up to you, let me prove myself to you once more.. Let me do things for you that I never got to do when you were with me. Let me make up for all the promises that ended up not being true. I swear even if you don't take me back but I got to do those, I'd be happy and won't be bothering you anymore.." Bada pleaded with you and you took a shaky breath before sighing.

"I can't promise you anything right now, Bada.. I'm really sorry. Just give me some time to think about everything you just said, yeah?" you told her and she nodded her head before reaching for her phone in her pocket and showing you her phone number. You couldn't help but chuckle a bit seeing as she didn't change her number or even changed her phone wallpaper. It's still the picture you took together when you celebrated your second anniversary.

"Please text me if you made up your mind. Please, Y/N.. It would really make my whole year.." Bada pleaded once more and you nodded your head before you went on your separate ways. You just hope that whatever decision you come up with, it will not lead you to break your heart once more.

You spent many nights trying to decide whether you want Bada in your life again or not. It scares you a lot but you also couldn't deny the fact that you are still madly in love with her. You wanted to start fresh with her but also still a bit guarded considering what happened months ago. You sighed as you picked up your phone, scrolling through the contacts and found Bada's number.

"It's now or never, Y/N. You're either healing your heart with this or delivering yourself to another heartache.. But then wounds from the past will eventually heal.. All will be alright in time." you felt like going crazy from all the emotions you're feeling as you sent a text to Bada, asking her when she's available to meet. You asked to meet at the place where she took you on your first date. Now all you have to do is wait patiently for her to respond and hoping that it's not too late for you to message her.

[leviathans-watching]

Breaking the Ice

includes: diavolo x f!reader (she/her & you/your pronouns used, no physical body description)

wc: 14k | rated t | m.list | crossposted on ao3

warnings: cursing, more raunchy than my normal stuff (implied/fade-to-black sexual content), past raphael x reader

huge huge huge thanks to my three amazing betas for this @jeschalynn, @hyperfixat, & @fickleminder, you all seriously elevated this fic and i'm so grateful to you!!

a/n: i have been (slowly) working on this since NOVEMBER. you can't imagine how good this feels to finally post 😫😫. here's a guide to the boys' positions & numbers if you're interested and also where i go over some of the hockey terminology used within this fic! please remember to reblog/comment/etc., it's really appreciated! also blah blah blah creative liberties and suspension of belief. i'm also not a hockey experts so mistakes should be expected 👍

“Say,” he begins, “I couldn’t help but notice you had on a general jersey tonight. I’m surprised you weren’t repping Simeon’s number.”

“And have more rumors about our relationship spread? I don’t think so. Simeon hates when people think we’re dating, which happened for a bit with the CC Chols. Says it gets in his way when he’s trying to find a date.”

“In that case, how about I send you one of mine?” he offers, and you blink up at him.

“A jersey?”

“Yeah, how about it? You could wear the ‘C’ off of the ice.” His dark eyes are even more shadowed and immensely alluring.

“I suppose that’d be okay,” you agree nonchalantly, though your heart is pounding in your chest. You can’t believe the captain of the Devildom Dogs is flirting with you!

∙

Following your childhood best friend across the country after his trade to the Devildom Dogs—one of the most prolific AHL Hockey teams in the business—hadn't been the plan, but you can't say you're not liking it. Especially because the handsome and charming captain of the team, Diavolo, seems to be making it his new season goal to break the ice between you and get to know you better.

“And now,” the announcer’s voice echoes over the arena, egged on by the cheers of the crowd, “we welcome the Devildom Dogs out to the ice!” 

The sounds of blades scraping on ice fill the air, and the raucous cheering only grows louder. It should be no different from your old arena, your old team, and yet it is. 

Well, except for one thing. Person. As he skates out onto the rink to warm up, Simeon catches your eye, giving you a quick wink that’s barely visible through his helmet. You sigh good-naturedly, and he smiles. 

You and Simeon have been friends for as long as you can remember—since birth, if your mothers are telling the truth—and when he’d been traded from the Celestial City Chols all of the way across the country to the Devildom, you hadn’t really seen a reason not to go with him. Your work was completely virtual, and there hadn’t been anything really tying you to the Celestial City after your engagement had been called off. Honestly, though it kind of sucked that Simeon got traded to the biggest rival of the CC Chols, you have high hopes about this new city and team. 

A puck slams into the glass just in front of your face. You don’t jump. The boys on the CC Chols had always loved to mess with you and you were long used to things flying at you at what seemed like a million miles per hour. But it wasn’t one of the CC boys who’d sent that puck flying, and as you scan across the ice, you see it was one of the forwards, number one. Simeon had been kind enough to give you the down low on all of his new teammates, and you’d spent a fair amount of time pouring over the roster and memorizing stats, so it’s not hard to put a name to the number. Face. Whatever. 

Mammon, starting forward for the season, gives you a smirk then turns away, all flashy footwork and dexterous control. You pause to admire the way his jersey stretches across his back, and then the jersey itself. Damn, he looks good. The jersey looks good—you had designed it after all. 

You hadn’t always wanted to be an AHL jersey and logo designer, but through a combination of hard work and dumb luck, you are now the hand behind a myriad of teams’ looks, including the Devildom Dogs and the Celestial City Chols. Not that many people know about the person behind the designs. The average person is typically a lot more invested in the person wearing the jersey, not the one designing it, which is just fine with you. With the amount of money you’re getting, you honestly don’t need recognition. 

That paycheck allowed you to purchase the highest level VIP season tickets for the season, managing to snag the seat closest to the home team benches, meaning you’re only a few feet from the team. Simeon had laughed when you’d told him this, but you hadn't cared. Now you can make sure he heard you when you yelled at him for his playing.

As you wait out the warmups, you try to compare this rink with that of your old team. The biggest difference that you could sense was the vibe. Back at the Chols’ rink, the air had been light, filled with more excitement than anything else. But here, it’s different. There’s a bloodthirsty undercurrent running through the crowd, a cutthroat competitiveness that’s completely new to you. The fans are already bothering the opposing team, hurling taunts and insults their way, with the mascot of the Devildom Dogs, an iteration of Cerberus the three-headed dog, whipping the fans into an even crazier frenzy. 

And it’s not only the fans that are different; the players are, too. Even within the League, the Dogs have a reputation for playing fast and dirty, masterfully bending the rules without breaking them. You’ve always been impressed by them (not that you’d ever admitted it before, as doing so would have been treason to the Chols), but you’re kind of excited to be able to openly study and praise their skilled playing. Especially since you hope this will give Simeon the team that he needs. It had been clear to you, that he was a cut above the rest in the Chols. Not that that was a bad thing, but now you hope he can be matched, have the room that he needs to stretch his wings and fully use his talent without his team falling behind.

Before you know it, warmups come to an end. The non-starting players file back into the benches and you’re proud to see Simeon remaining on the ice. He’d been traded during the off-season, so it had completely taken you both by surprise to hear he’d be a starter, considering all of the veteran players on the team.

You stand for the national anthem, then finally, finally, the puck is dropped. The team they’re playing against today is one you’re not all that familiar with, and honestly couldn’t care less about, so you focus your attention more on watching Simeon play than you do the game as a whole. 

Due to the proximity of your seat to the benches you’re able to hear the chatter of the players, the coach barking orders, and even the signal to change lines. It’s a whole new experience. When you’d go to watch the Chols’ games, you were in the VIP lounge, which, while pretty fancy and awesome, was removed from the ice and the actual grittiness of the game. 

Plus, you never got a moment to yourself. All of the other wives and permanent girlfriends had always wanted to chat, and while they were pleasant enough, sometimes you just wanted to lose yourself to the game, yell and scream with the rest of the crowd. 

Simeon is on a line with Solomon, who’s a forward, and Leviathan, who’s a left-winger. He’s playing hard and well, proving he deserves to be on this team. You egg him on from your seat, making an effort to have your voice heard above the crowd. The Dogs are playing fairly clean tonight, and you wonder if it’s because it’s opening night. 

Or maybe it’s because they don’t need to play dirty. It’s clear they outclass the opposing team in every way, their insane training schedule paying off. The boys are blurs on the ice, and hardly ever on your side of the rink, as they’re pushing hard to keep the puck near the opposing team's goal. At least you’ll be able to see better when they switch sides in the next period. 

Simeon returns to the benches and gives you a grin, chugging water. You flutter your fingers in a wave, mouth twisting with a smile. Solomon, following his gaze, locks eyes with you, and you flick a glance between them before turning back to the game, determinedly not looking over. Your eyes are drawn to Diavolo and Lucifer, the defensemen currently on the ice. The other pair you’ve seen tonight, Barbatos and Belphegor, are good, but these two… they’re something else. 

They move in perfect formation, seemingly able to anticipate one another’s actions. You remember that Simeon had said they’ve been together since the Q, even were drafted together which is practically unheard of, and now you understand why. They’re menaces of black and red, and it would be a complete shame to separate them. There was even talk of Diavolo moving up to the NHL at one point, but after he became captain he chose to stay down. 

You watch as Diavolo steals the puck from under the opposing team’s nose, sending it neatly toward Lucifer, who delivers it right to Asmodeus. He, like the rest of the team, is incredibly talented, but unlike the others, he relies on speed and agility rather than brute force. You’d read somewhere he’d taken a fair amount of figure skating classes to improve his balance and form, and it’s really paid off. 

Asmodeus takes the puck all of the way down to the other end of the rink, passing to Mammon, who scores. You’re on your feet with the rest of the arena before you can think, cheering loudly. The boys do a quick celly then get right back to business, switching out with Simeon’s line. 

The players on the bench all slap Mammon on the back as he takes his seat, casual as can be. 

“You should have sent it to me,” Satan grumbles, barely audible over the din of the crowd and you unashamedly eavesdrop, not even bothering to hide your stare. Around you, the other superfans are still celebrating and their enthusiasm is infectious. 

“Whatever,” Mammon shoots back. “I got it in, didn’t I?” 

Asmodeus laughs, light and airy. “Barely.” 

“Can it, dipshit.” Mammon leans over and smacks him on the shoulder, and you notice he’s taken off his gloves. You smother a chuckle, then return your attention to the ice. The opposing team’s fighting pretty hard, but they’re clearly fighting a futile battle. Any time they manage to get the puck near the Dogs’ goal it’s quickly sent back across the ice, and the few rare times they do manage a shot, it’s easily stopped, mostly by the d-men or the goalie. It almost seems like the Dogs are toying with them, letting them get close to scoring and then removing the chance completely, then repeating the action. 

Frustrated, one of the players on the opposing team lashes out, dropping his gloves and rounding on Simeon. He dodges the clumsy blows easily, putting him in his place with a clean uppercut. The ref finally gets between them, taking longer than normal, something you’ve noticed from watching the Devildom Dog’s old games is pretty usual for their arena. They tend to let them go a little longer, which gives the Dogs a better opportunity to beat the shit out of the other players with beautiful brutality. The Chols had been all about good sportsmanship, so fights were a lot less common with them than the average team.

You wish you had been filming, but no doubt there will be videos online depicting the fight thanks to some other fan uploaded within the hour. 

Simeon is unscathed, but the other player spits blood across the ice, glowering at him. You let out a long whoop, and he half turns towards you, lips curving up in a small, feral smile. You can already see it—this change is good for him.

They both get a few minutes for roughing, but Simeon looks all too happy to be in the sin bin. You can’t help but snap a few pictures, throwing them on your story. The game resumes with more energy, with both the players and the crowd whipped up into more of a frenzy. The fans want blood, or at least for crushing defeat to be delivered, and it seems like the team’s hellbent on delivering. It’s a fantastic game, wilder and more energizing than you’ve seen in a long time, and you can’t help but be excited for the upcoming rest of the season. 

As the game draws nearer to the end, the opposing team pulls their goalie, but quickly puts it back after the Devildom Dogs score yet another goal, increasing the already sizable score gap. When the buzzer finally goes off signaling the end of the game, the away team looks utterly defeated while the Devildom Dogs celebrate. You catch a few curses and middle fingers shared between teams, and again, have to laugh. 

You stand and cheer with the rest of the crowd, reveling in the thrill of the win along with the team. Simeon’s in the center of it all, receiving congratulatory slaps and fist-bumps, and you know without a doubt he’s been accepted as one of their own. You’re a bit relieved—he’d been worried about not getting along with the others. Not that it’s necessary at this level of playing, but at his center, Simeon likes being liked and had been worried about how he was being received. 

Around you, fans start making their way out of the auditorium, and you follow, knowing Simeon’s going to go out to celebrate with the rest of the team. You feel eyes on you as you leave. You look over and make eye contact with the team captain, Diavolo, who gives you a half genuinely warm, half inquisitive smile. You tilt your head and smile back, slightly teasing, then turn away. 

∙

The walk back to your and Simeon’s shared apartment isn’t far, but it is a bit chillier than it is this time of year in Celestial City, so you’re grateful when you’re able to close the door behind you. You send off a quick text to Simeon telling him you’d made it safe, then just pause for a moment, digesting the game. The boys had played great, your jerseys had looked fantastic, and you were pretty sure you’d already caught the attention of some of the players. You’ll get to know them all eventually, or at least that’s what you assume since you’d been so familiar with the CC Chols, so you’re not too worried, but the image of that smile the captain had sent you plays in your head. It’s unusual for fans to be given attention like that, so you wonder if Simeon’s already said something about you.

Shaking yourself, you start your bedtime routine and change into more comfortable clothes. You won’t actually go to sleep for a while, perks of making your own hours and being a night owl, but starting it early never hurts. You also need to stay up for Simeon, as you know he’s going to want to tell you all about the game from his perspective. You’re excited to hear it, as well as excited to hear what hanging with the guys after is like. 

Time passes, and with no word from him, you begin to get a little worried. It’s not unheard of for him to come home late. If he were with the Chols, you wouldn’t be worried at all, but he’s in an unfamiliar city with unfamiliar guys, you’ve heard about the hazing horror stories. You uneasily move around the apartment, trying to convince yourself that you’re overreacting. Suddenly your phone rings, that familiar ring-tone carrying through the air, and you hurry to answer it, raising your phone to your ear. 

“Simeon?” you ask breathlessly. 

“Uh, not Simeon,” an unfamiliar voice says, and you jerk back, checking the caller ID. It is Simeon’s number. “My name is Diavolo, I’m captain of the Devildom Dogs hockey team, the one that Simeon recently joined. I’m not sure what all you know or who you are, but your name is favorited in his contacts, and I think Simeon needs to get picked up. I would drop him off myself,” he adds regretfully, “but I’m a little buzzed and don’t want to get behind the wheel.” 

“Totally understandable,” you assure him. “Is Simeon okay? What happened?” 

Diavolo sighs. “Solomon and Asmo happened. They’re two other team members and they love welcoming the new team members with open arms. And lots of booze.” 

“Are you saying he’s drunk?” you ask, finally catching his drift. “Simeon doesn’t typically drink much.” 

“Asmodeus can be very persuasive. And not like, black-out drunk, but definitely feeling it.” 

“I see. Well, what bar are you guys at? I can swing by to pick him up now, if you’d like?” 

“That would be great,” Diavolo sighs with relief, and his warm tone sends butterflies through your stomach. He gives you the location and you realize it’s only a few blocks from your apartment, easily within walking distance. You’ll walk there, and if needed, call a rideshare back. 

“I’ll be there in like, fifteen minutes,” you say, already pulling on your shoes. You look like crap, but honestly, you’ve never been one to care about things like that.  If Simeon’s drunk enough that you need to pick him up, you really don’t want to waste time. 

“Okay, thank you. And I’m really sorry about all of this,” Diavolo says earnestly. “I’ll be having words with Solomon and Asmo both about this.” 

“Don’t be,” you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. “It’s only natural they’d get rowdy after a win, and I’m sure you have your hands full with everyone else. I totally get it. As long as it’s not a repeating occurrence. I can’t come and get him after every game.” 

Diavolo laughs, deep and warm. “Yes ma’am. See you in a few.” 

You hurry to the bar, hand wrapped around your pepper spray. Though Celestial City has been pretty safe, you know that the Devildom is less so, but there are enough people still out that you don’t feel too sketched out. When you arrive at the bar, you walk in, scanning the room for the team. They’re easy enough to spot, and you make your way over. 

“No more autographs,” someone groans as you approach, and you realize it’s Belphegor, the d-man who plays beside Barbatos. 

“I’m not here for that,” you say, and everyone looks over. You only have eyes for Simeon, who’s slumped over in a booth, tapping away on his phone. “Get up,” you demand, poking him in the side. 

While he struggles to sit up properly, sluggish from the booze,  you lean over to Diavolo. 

“Hi,” you say, clearing your throat, “I’m MC. We spoke on the phone earlier.” 

“You’re the chick who was at the game,” Mammon crows, pushing himself next to you before Diavolo can reply. “It’s nice to meet ya!” 

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you too,” you say, taking him in. He’s tall and muscular, but nowhere as near as broad as Diavolo, who is honestly, a hunk of a man. 

“Thank you for coming,” Diavolo says gratefully. “I’ve been giving him water to help him sober up but he’s still tipsy. You got here quickly.” 

“Yeah, well, our apartment is only a few blocks from here,” you say with a shrug, pulling Simeon up to his feet.

“You live together?” Out of the corner of your eye, you see a flash of honey-blonde hair and Asmodeus as he speaks up. “Are you two married?” 

Before you can reply, Simeon laughs, and it seems like he’s starting to sober up a little. “No. Lord, no.” He continues to laugh, shaking his head.

You roll your eyes and clarify, “No, Simeon and I are childhood friends. When he got traded to the Devildom Dogs I decided I was sick of the CC Chols and followed. And it’s a good thing I did,” you say severely, turning your scolding to Simeon, “because look at the state you’re in.” 

“Please,” a smile tugs at the edge of his lips, “if you’d been here you’d be way worse off than me and we both know it.” 

Well, he’s got you there.

“Hey,” Simeon says, and it’s like a lightbulb has gone off over his head. “I just had the most genius idea. MC, let’s stay here for a bit so you can meet everybody.” 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” you say doubtfully, and the boys all begin talking at once. 

“No, no, sit down!” Diavolo encourages you, and after another moment of hesitation, you sit. Simeon slides back into the booth, scooting further over so you have room, and you make sure to jam him in the side with your elbow ‘accidentally’ as you’re settling. He pinches your side in return, but since you’re in public you can’t retaliate like you would at your apartment, or even back with the CC Chols, who were familiar with your relationship. Starting the night by getting into a hissy slap fight isn’t the image you want to start off with. 

“Um, congratulations on the game,” you say. “You all played very well.” 

“Of course we did,” Mammon crows, “we’re the fucking Devildom Dogs!” 

“Mammon, be polite,” Lucifer, Diavolo’s d-man partner says, and Mammon makes a face. “Thank you very much,” he says, turning to face you directly. “I’m Lucifer, and this is…” 

Lucifer introduces everyone around the table for you, and you do yours when they’re finished. 

“So, MC, what do you do?” Satan asks. 

“I’m a logo designer,” you reply. Simeon rolls his eyes at your vague response but doesn’t spoil your fun. “I run a small design business out of our apartment.”

“You must be pretty good to be able to afford those seats,” Solomon points out slyly. “That is if you’re a season ticket member? I guess you could have just bought it off the actual member for the night.”

“So, you’re not successful?” Belphegor asks.

Simeon shakes his head. “No, she is, but she’s also really humble.” 

“Sure, humble,” you agree wryly. 

“Is there anything you want to drink?” Diavolo cuts in, leaning over the table to be heard better, but you shake your head regretfully. 

“Sorry, not today. One of us has gotta be able to manage getting us home.”

“Next time, then?” 

A handful of men have pursued you in the past, but he’s definitely the most charming, you think as he gives you a look both guileless and expectant. And you’re not opposed, so you laugh and agree, “Sure, next time.” 

“MC, was it?” Asmodeus purrs, and you turn to him. He knows damn well what your name is. “Are you seeing anyone?” 

“Ah, no,” you reply, and your mind flashes back to your ex-fiance. Your relationship with Raphael had been fun, but it was clear that neither of you were really interested in marriage, but the pressure took its toll. Honestly, your decision to move to the Devildom was a really good opportunity to start fresh. You were glad you didn’t have any reason to really see him anymore. “I broke off my engagement recently and I’m still trying to get back on the dating scene.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Asmodeus says a bit awkwardly. You wish you’d given him a little less of the truth.

“Don’t be.” You give him a bright smile. “It wasn’t a bad relationship, we just realized that we weren’t compatible long-term and it was best to part ways.” 

“Kudos to you for having the balls to break it off, then,” Diavolo speaks up suddenly. “That must have been difficult.” 

“It was difficult at first, yeah,” you reply, “but it was the best choice and I don’t regret it.” 

“Enough of that,” Simeon cuts in, throwing his arm around your shoulders. He can sense your reluctance to fully jump into talking about your failed relationship. “I think MC wants to know more about all of you.” 

“That’s true,” you agree with a laugh. “A girl can’t help but be curious about the most notorious team in the AHL.” 

“What do you think of us so far?” Satan asks, raising one neat eyebrow.

“You’re all a lot nicer than the rumors say, for one,” you begin, and Mammon laughs. 

“Well, that’s because we like you so far. Believe me, if we didn’t, you wouldn’t be callin’ us nice.” 

“I’m almost offended,” Solomon says, putting a hand on his chest. “I’ve been described as a lot of things, but nice’? I deserve more credit than that!” 

“Well damn, okay,” you say jokingly, holding your hands up innocently. “I wasn’t trying to offend. I guess you’re all also a lot funnier than I thought. In my experience hockey boys usually aren’t quite as witty as you’ve been tonight.” 

“Was that an insult to hockey players?” Beelzebub grumbles to Belphegor, who nods seriously. 

“I think it was.” 

“Well not to you,” you say exasperatedly, and the honeyed laugh that you get from Diavolo feels like a win. 

The night goes on with info and chirps being swapped back and forth, and by the time it’s time to pack up and all separate, you feel like you’ve gained a lot through this experience. Your worries are mostly assuaged; you’ve gotten to know all of the boys at least somewhat, and everyone now knows you.

“Well, we’re this way,” you say to Diavolo, who walked you out. Simeon is still inside, paying his tab, so it’s just the two of you under the entrance lights. The city is dark yet still busy, and you’re glad to see the nightlife is what had been advertised, lively and entrancing. “It was really nice to meet you. Thanks for letting me hang out and meet everyone.” 

“We enjoyed your company,” he says smoothly. “Thanks for giving up your evening to spend time with a bunch of nice, witty hockey players.” 

“Oh my god,” you groan. “You guys are never going to let me forget that, are you?” 

“Nope.” His teeth glint in the light, standing out against his dark skin. He has a nice smile, you think to yourself before you realize you’ve been staring. 

He doesn’t seem to mind, though, if the interested expression on his face is any indication. 

“Say,” he begins, “I couldn’t help but notice you had on a general jersey tonight. I’m surprised you weren’t repping Simeon’s number.” 

“And have more rumors about our relationship spread? I don’t think so. Simeon hates when people think we’re dating, which happened for a bit with the CC Chols. Says it gets in his way when he’s trying to find a date.” 

“In that case, how about I send you one of mine?” he offers, and you blink up at him. 

“A jersey?” 

“Yeah, how about it? You could wear the ‘C’ off of the ice.” His dark eyes are even more shadowed and immensely alluring. 

“I suppose that’d be okay,” you agree nonchalantly, though your heart is pounding in your chest. You can’t believe the captain of the Devildom Dogs is flirting with you! “You can just give it to Simeon whenever it's convenient for you.” 

“Oh, no,” he disagrees, “I think I’ve gotta give it to you directly, you know, to make sure it gets to you safe and sound. How about you swing by one of our practices next week? I can give it to you then.” 

“I’ll have to check my schedule,” you say, knowing you’re definitely free. “I’m a busy woman. Popular, too.” 

“I don’t doubt that,” he recipes silkily, but before either of you can add anything else, Simeon appears, his suspicious eyes glancing back and forth between the two of you. 

“MC, stop your flirting so we can get home,” he instructs, and you laugh. 

“As if you’re not the reason we’re still here. See you, Diavolo.” 

“I’m holding you to that,” he calls as you walk away. “Next week, okay?” 

“We’ll see,” you return without looking back. You both know that means ‘yes’.

∙

Cracking your back, you push away from your desk, finally finished with work. The Devildom Dogs reached out to you and asked for a Veterans Day design, so you’ve spent the whole day brainstorming potential ideas for the jerseys.

You were glad they contacted you, especially since they were asking for a rush job which meant you were able to get them to sign a contract that would pay you a lot of money. Man, you love your job. And money.

“Done with work?” Simeon asks, poking his head into your room. Your apartment was pretty modest so your workspace was in your bedroom, and honestly, though it was kind of cramped, the setup was pretty sweet. 

“Yep,” you say, and he walks fully in, sitting on the bed. “Management of the Dogs reached out, they want Veterans Day jerseys.”

“What do you have so far?” he asks, and you spend a few moments looking at the designs you’d thrown together. 

“I really like that one,” he says, choosing his favorite, and you make a mental note of that. Ultimately, it comes down to the people you’re working with with the Devildom Dogs, but Simeon has pretty good taste and is usually right about which design will get chosen.

“How was your day?” you ask. They didn’t have a game or official practice, but you were pretty sure you’d seen him heading out to the gym earlier in the day. 

“It was good,” he says, flopping back onto his back, “but I’m tired. And I don’t want to cook.” 

“I don’t either,” you admit. “Takeout?” 

“My trainer’s going to kill me,” he grumbles but opens his phone and starts scrolling through the delivery options. 

“You rarely go off of your diet plan,” you dismiss. “Once in a while won’t hurt.” 

Within a few moments, Simeon’s placed an order at some sandwich place nearby. “Should be delivered within the hour.”

“Sweet.” 

When the food comes, the two of you ignore your table to sit on the couch, putting on the shows you’ve been watching. You take a moment to snap a picture of him, the TV, and the food, and put it on your Instagram story. 

It’s only a few moments before your phone buzzes and you see someone’s swiped up. 

Diavolo_14: Is that meal trainer approved? 

MC: What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him lol

Diavolo_14: I guess at least it’s sandwiches. Could be worse.

MC: And I convinced Simeon anyway, so blame me not him

Diavolo_14: Oh, I have no doubts about who’s responsible. What are you watching?

MC: Some dumb sitcom. IDK, Simeon and I just make our way through shows together for something to do

Diavolo_14: Jealous. 

MC: Of the food?

Diavolo_14: Of Simeon. I want to watch dumb sitcoms with you. 

“What—or who—has you smiling like that?” Simeon asks, leaning over to look at your phone. You turn it away from him, sticking out your tongue. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“It’s Diavolo, isn’t it?” he asks, and you roll your eyes. 

“You better not try to warn me or him off, okay? We’re both adults and—”

“I literally do not care.” He gives you a sideways glance. “Unless he breaks your heart, of course. But other than that, do whatever you want.”

“Thanks for the heartfelt sentiment,” you say sarcastically, and he laughs. You’re so glad Simeon’s never been the overprotective type, as you’d definitely chafe under it. Over time, the both of you have mostly been a listening ear, only giving advice when asked, and it’s a system that works really well for the both of you. 

With a start, you realize you’ve left Diavolo hanging, and go back to the DM thread. 

MC: Is that so?

Diavolo_14: That is so. Now, when are you going to come to practice to get that jersey?

MC: Well, I was going to surprise you tomorrow…

Diavolo_14: And now I’ve ruined the surprise, haven’t I?

MC: Yeah lol. 

Diavolo_14: Well, you should still come tomorrow.

MC: Alright, alright, see you then

Diavolo_14: Looking forward to it, MC.

His words send a flutter through your stomach, and you have a hard time focusing on the show for the rest of the night, too busy thinking about one, handsome captain of the Devildom Dogs. Simeon chirps and needles you for it, something you let him do because you probably deserve it. 

“Whatever,” you finally say, standing up. “I’m going to bed.”

“Oh, yeah, get that beauty sleep,” he replies. “You need it.” 

Grabbing a throw pillow, you chuck it in his direction, making a hasty retreat to your room. 

It’s hard to fall asleep, but once you do, you have good dreams and wake up well-rested. Even though you’re really looking forward to Simeon’s practice, it’s not until the afternoon so you keep busy working on the Veterans Day jersey designs though your mind drifts more often than you’d like to admit. 

You’ve only known Diavolo for a few days, but things are just so electric with him. Sparks truly do fly between the two of you and his flirting makes you feel giddy, but your last relationship wasn’t been filled with lots of laughter so you feel like you’re entitled to it. You wonder if he feels this way too. Does he feel the connection? What does he want with you? Before you can linger on the thoughts, you stand, forcing yourself to switch gears.

“Ready to go?” Simeon asks when you walk into the living room, and you nod. You have your laptop just in case you get bored (which you doubt will happen) and you put it in the backseat of Simeon’s car. 

“This is so exciting,” you say, only half-kidding. “Behind the scenes with the Devildom Dogs. Do you think the others will mind me watching?” 

Simeon shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t think so. Everyone likes you and this gives them a chance to show off.” Laughing, he says, “I think they might like you more than me.” 

“That is so not true,” you argue with an eye roll. “They’ve only met me once. And how could they? Everyone has always gotten along better with you than me anyway.” 

“Yeah, because I’m not annoying as hell,” he says nonchalantly, and you send him a glare. 

“You’re so lucky you’re driving,” you threaten. “I don’t know why everyone always thinks you’re so angelic. You’re such an ass to me.” 

“It’s deserved,” he points out, and okay, you have to agree.

When he pulls into the parking lot behind the ice rink they use for practice, you waste no time gathering your shit and hopping out of the car. 

“Nervous?” Simeon asks, and you scoff.

“As if.” It’s a half-lie. Maybe nervousness isn’t the right word. It’s more like… anticipation.

Simeon leads you through the back doors to the rink, and you look around, taking everything in. You’re assuming it’s open to the public when it’s not in use by the team and that theory is backed up by the presence of a skate rental sign pointing down another hall.

“You can hang out on the stands,” Simeon says, pointing like you don’t already see them. “I’ll tell everyone you’re here and they can do whatever they want with that info.” 

You sit near the rink, but not directly in the front row, and mess around on your phone for a few moments. You’re expecting people to approach you from the ice so when someone taps your shoulder, you jump, looking behind you.

“Sorry, sorry,” Diavolo says, holding out his hands in a peace gesture. His grin is easy and just as attractive as you remembered. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“You’re good,” you say. “I was just waiting for you to skate over to me, not walk.” 

“What I’m hearing is that you were waiting for me.” He does something with his eyebrows that comes off as insanely attractive and you wonder just how desperate you are. 

“Well, yeah,” you say. “I was promised a gift.” 

“That you were,” he agrees. “And I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait a little longer for it. I left it in my car and since practice is starting so soon I totally don’t have time to go and get it. Darn.” 

“Is this your way of asking me out after practice?” 

“Well, it was my way of asking to give you a ride home, but hey, that works too,” he chuckles, eyes sparkling with some positive emotion you can’t quite pin down. “As long as Simeon won’t get mad. I know you’re close friends.” 

“Him?” You laugh. “He won’t be, first of all, because neither of us really cares what either gets up to romantically, and secondly, even if he was, it would be none of his damn business. I’m a grown woman with my own agenda and I’m glad he’s always recognized that. Even when we were younger,” you say with a sigh, “he’d let me get myself into all sorts of scrapes and situations, then just smugly tell me it was my own fault. Nothing serious, of course, but out of the two of us I’ve always been rasher and he definitely uses that for his entertainment.” 

“Seriously?” Diavolo questions. “He seems so kind and nice. I have a hard time believing that.” 

“That’s because he wants you to think that,” you tell him darkly, and the laugh you get in return is glorious, full-bellied and rich. 

Not noticing your sudden stupor, he sighs, catching his breath. “Well, I better get on the ice. Duties of being a captain and all of that.” 

“What, actually having to show up to practice and set a good example? So hard.” 

“You get it,” he says, and you shake your head, unable to stop your smile. 

“Watch me on the ice?” he asks, beginning to walk away backward. 

“Obviously,” you say, “but Diavolo…”

“Yeah?” he begins to reply, then trips over a bench, stumbling to the ground. 

“...there’s a bench behind you,” you finish, and the gobsmacked look on his face is one you endeavor to remember, pressing into your memories.

The boys waste no time getting into the swing of practice, though you receive a few looks and waves. Their drills are intense and difficult looking, but they make them seem easy. Watching them makes you yearn to get back on the ice, a feeling you haven’t had in a while. Maybe you should see what days the rink offers open skate and pull yours out of your closet. 

Watching them makes you feel oddly nostalgic. Both for the Chols and for the rec league with Simeon. You’d played hockey with him through school, quitting in college when he’d been scouted directly to the Chols. You’d been the forward to his right wing, and though you’d never had the same amount of sheer talent as him, you’d been no slouch.

But as time went on, you’ve been satisfied with just watching. Marveling at the feats the Chols were able to do on the ice, rather than rush to attempt them yourself as you might once have. 

You’d been on the ice with the Chols a few times, but after the first year, the novelty had worn off. You’d shifted to the stands after your engagement, sticking with the other girls, and again, while that had been fun, you’re realizing now that you truly, sincerely missed the feeling of skating. 

The coaches hardly pay you any attention, and while you’d thought that maybe your presence would have distracted the boys, they’re all business, showing you a much more serious side than you’d seen so far. Discounting that first game, of course. 

Before you know it, the practice is halfway over. It’s going by way too fast!

“Hey,” Simeon calls from the ice, grabbing your attention. “We’ve got a five-minute break. Come down here!”

You roll your eyes but stand, crossing the short distance to the edge of the rink. He’s out of breath and sweating, clearly working hard on the drills. 

“What do you think, huh?” he asks, putting a hand on the board. 

“Yeah, I want to know!” Mammon cries, skating over and almost running into Simeon. “Cooler and better and more awesomer than the Chols?” 

“‘Awesomer’ isn’t a word, dimwit,” Belphegor says, clearly listening in on the conversation, and you laugh. 

“Way awesomer than the Chols.” 

“Glad you think so,” Diavolo says from behind you, and you jump. Again. Man, he’s really got to stop doing that. Or maybe you need to be more attentive; you hadn’t even seen him get off the ice! He’s sweaty too, hair sticking down slightly on his forehead, but unlike with Simeon, you drink the sight in. God, this man gets more and more attractive every time you see him. “Did you see me out there?” 

Honestly, he was pretty much all you could look at. 

“Of course I did.” 

“Was it impressive?” 

Mindful of Simeon, Belphegor, and Mammon (whom Diavolo doesn’t even seem to care about), you choose your words with care. “Don’t fish for compliments.” 

He grins, opening his mouth to speak, but before he can, the coaches call everyone to the ice. 

“Stop your flirting, Captain!” Mammon cackles, and Diavolo sighs. 

“I barely even got to talk to you!” 

Your heart flutters. “Well, I’ll be here after practice…” 

“That you will,” he says dorkily, looking all too excited. How can this man go from unbelievably sexy to cute so quickly?

The rest of practice flies by, and when it’s called to an end, anticipation bubbles in your chest. Diavolo nods towards the shower, and you give him a thumbs up. Simeon shakes his head with a laugh, and you can’t help but flip him off. 

You pack your things slowly, or maybe it’s that Diavolo showers quickly, because he walks out of the locker room at the same time you approach it. And lord, if you’d thought sweaty Diavolo was attractive, then what was post-shower Diavolo? Off the fucking charts is what. His shirt, slightly damp, sticks to his chest in a way that makes you want to drool. 

 “Ready?” he asks, taking your laptop bag from you before you can protest. 

“Of course.” You gesture for him to lead the way. “I’m excited to see this jersey after hearing so much about it.” 

“And I’m excited to see you wear it,” he replies smoothly, and your cheeks heat up. 

“Sweet talker.” 

“Honest,” he corrects amusedly, holding the door for you as you exit the building into the parking lot.

His car is nice. Much nicer than Simeon’s well-loved and well-worn sedan, it’s sleek and expensive looking. Too bad you’re not much of a car girl, otherwise you’d definitely appreciate it more. You notice it’s also clean and smells good when you buckle in. 

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry,” Diavolo says, sliding into his own seat. “Burned off a lot of calories at practice there.” 

“What about your meal plan?” you question, faux-innocently, and he raises his eyebrows. 

“What my trainer doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” he replies, repeating your earlier words back to you. You can’t help but giggle. 

“Well, I’m hungry too, so I think lunch is a great idea,” you say. “I’m obviously new around here so I’ll let you choose. Now, I want to be impressed.” 

“Yes ma’am.” He starts up the car and smoothly exits the parking lot. “How about my favorite brunch place?” 

“Isn’t it a little late for brunch?” you ask, and he shrugs. 

“Eh, they serve brunch all day.” 

“That sounds good to me,” you say, and he grins. 

“Good, because it’s literally right down the road.” 

∙

Once you’re seated inside, Diavolo takes the menu from your hand and sets it aside. “You won’t need this,” he says. “Trust me.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know I was dining with an expert,” you joke. “Fine, I’ll trust you. But if you get me something I don’t like, get ready to pay the price.” 

“If it’s you—” he waggles his eyebrows devilishly “—I wouldn’t mind getting punished.” 

You shake your head, trying to clear the thoughts and images that had arisen from his words, and take a long sip of water. “So, um, what do you like to do?” 

“Play hockey.” 

You wave a hand. “You know what I mean, dipshit.” 

“Fine, fine. Let’s see… I enjoy running, especially at this park near my place. The sunrise is super pretty. And I spend a lot of time with Barbatos and Lucifer too.” 

“You do?” you ask, surprised. They were pretty close for a professional team but you hadn’t known it was that close. 

“Yep. Been friends with them forever. Barbatos, for as long as I can remember—I’m pretty sure our parents introduced us in the hospital—and Lucifer and I met at a camp years ago. It’s honestly pretty crazy we made it to the same team.” 

“Wow,” you say, remembering reading headlines of the unexpected draft pick for both of them, “that is crazy. I’m glad you guys are all so close.” 

“Well, most of us have been on the team for at least a season,” he replies. “I’m glad Simeon’s growing closer with us too. He seems like a really cool dude.” 

“He is,” you reply, “but don’t tell him I said so. He’d never let me live it down.” 

Diavolo winks, miming locking his mouth with a key. “Your secret’s safe with me.” 

The waitress comes to take your orders then, and you leave it all to Diavolo. He gets the same dish for the both of you, promising it’ll be worth it.

“I hope so,” you say. “I’m kind of nervous. I’ve never heard of a dish called ‘Hotter Than Hot Toasted Sandwich’. It’s a good thing I like spicy food. What would you have done if I didn’t?” 

He looks sheepish then, rubbing at the back of your neck. “I asked Simeon just to be sure.” 

The thought put into it touches you, and you look down, then up at him through your lashes. “I see.” 

The conversation drifts, moving from one topic to another with ease. And that’s what things are with Diavolo. Easy. He’s kind and funny, attentive to your feelings, and seems to find you just as appealing as you find him. 

That is, if you’re reading the signs right, but honestly it’d be kind of hard to interpret his actions otherwise.

Your food arrives, and thankfully, it’s as delicious as he’d promised. You both finish eating at around the same time, and as if she’d been waiting, the waitress comes and drops off the check. Before you can move, Diavolo has his card out, a shiny black Amex, and sets it on the table. 

“I’m not going to argue,” you say with a laugh, and he smiles. 

“Good. I want to treat you.” 

“Careful,” you warn playfully, “or I might get used to it.” 

He leans forward, a little more serious. Those eyes burn into you, making you breathless even though he hasn’t said anything. “And what if that’s what I want?” 

You blink at his sudden bluntness. It’s almost hard for you to believe what you’re hearing. That a man like him is interested in a girl like you. Not that you’re not a catch, but damn, he’s out of this world. “Well,” you finally say, “I guess you’ll just have to keep taking me out to prove it.” 

“If that’s what it takes,” he says lowly, “then I’d be happy to provide. Let’s get out of here.” 

The waitress had apparently grabbed his card and returned it without you noticing, so when he stands, it takes you a second to follow. He leads you back to his car. 

“Do you need to get back to anything or can I steal you for longer?” he asks, and you consult your watch. 

“Unfortunately, I do have a work meeting in like an hour,” you reply reluctantly. “That's not enough time for us to really do anything.” 

He frowns. “That’s unfortunate. I wanted to show you around the Devildom since I figured you hadn’t had much time to explore.” 

“That’ll just have to wait until next time,” you say airily, and he shakes his head. 

“You really do know how to wrap me around your finger.” 

You give him the address to your apartment, and all too soon he’s pulling up outside of the building. 

“I had fun today,” you say earnestly. “Thanks for taking me out.” 

He reaches into his back seat and pulls a piece of fabric forward. The jersey, you realize, as he presses it into your hands. A smile blooms on your face. 

“I had fun today too,” he says. “And I better see you wearing that to the game tomorrow. That is, if you’re coming.” 

You unbuckle, throwing his door open. “Oh, I will be. Coming, that is. And wearing your number.” 

∙

The season continues. You wear Diavolo’s jersey to the games, cheering for the Dogs with wild abandon, and they continue to win. And win, and win, and win. 

(“It’s all thanks to Simeon,” Solomon faux-whispers to you at one celebratory post-game hang. “He’s way better at being my right than Asmo ever was.” 

“Rude!” Asmo returns, jostling into Solomon’s side. Everyone laughs, and you easily join in. These boys, they’ve become a part of you, like you’ve become a part of them.)

Off the ice, you and Diavolo grow closer. You get familiar with his life outside of hockey, staying overnight at his apartment here and there when you both have the time. You haven’t put a label on it, something Diavolo seems to sense you’re not ready for, as the ended engagement with Raphael is still a little fresh, but it’s clear to the both of you that this isn’t some passing fling.

Before you know it, months have passed, and it’s playoff season. The Dogs obviously make it, having a perfect season thus far, as do the Chols, who had a rocky start to the beginning of the season, probably due to the changed dynamics without Simeon, but quickly redeemed themselves to finish strong. 

(“We bring home the Calder Cup all of the time,” Belphie says with an eye roll. “How is this season any different?” 

Mammon grins slyly. “It’s different for our dear Captain. After all, he’s finally got someone he wants to win the cup for.” 

Diavolo’s hand, where it’s wrapped around yours, squeezes lightly.)

Diavolo offers to fly you out to the West Coast for the championship game, as somehow, the Chols made it into the final two. They never quite managed that when Simeon was on the team. You decline, not because you’re not going, but because you can fly yourself. 

The bonus from both teams’ championship jerseys is sitting nice and pretty in your account right now.

You’re a bit nervous on the plane. Not because of the flying, but at the thought of seeing the Chols. Especially since this wasn’t any old game, but the championship one. It’d be a hard loss, for whoever doesn’t make it, and though at this point, your loyalties lie entirely with the Dogs, you don’t want to make anyone on the old team feel betrayed.

It’d also be your first time seeing Raphael in a long time, and the thought makes you a little scared. But you’re also hopeful. Hopeful that you’ll get to see people who were once your world again without it being too awkward. 

Although, considering the rivalry between the teams you’re not sure how feasible that one is…

When you get off the plane, carry-on in tow, you text Diavolo that you’ve landed safely, not expecting his reply to come right away. 

Diavolo_14: I’m glad you made it 

Diavolo_14: Still not sure why you wouldn’t fly in with us though :((

MC: I told you, I had it covered. You can spoil me some other way, on a trip that’s unrelated to your games

Diavolo_14: Is that you saying you want to travel with me in the off-season? After all of this postseason stuff is completed?

MC: Yes but you already knew that.

Diavolo_14: I suppose I may have had an idea.

Diavolo_14: Anyway, don’t get in a taxi or anything, our hotel is within walking distance.

MC: I already had reservations somewhere else!

Diavolo_14: Reservations Simeon canceled

Diavolo_14: I was hoping it’d be a nice surprise but if you’re uncomfortable with it I can get your old room back. 

MC: It’s not bad, and I am surprised. I just don’t want to distract you before such an important game.

Diavolo_14: Pssshh, this game is nothing. And you’re never a distraction &lt;3

MC: Liar. 

MC: Remember when I made you late to practice last week?

Diavolo_14: Oh yeah. Anyway, if you’re really fine with it you’d be sharing with me

Diavolo_14: It’s got a jacuzzi tub………

MC: You spoil me. Yes I’m fine with it. 

MC: What’s the name of the hotel so I can walk there?

Diavolo_14: You should be able to see it if you go to the east entrance and look up.

MC: Oh, good, I’m near there. Hold on

Diavolo_14: Yeah just look up and over by the sign for the shuttle, then slightly to the left.

You do as he directs, eyes widening when instead of a hotel, you see a familiar head of red hair. He waves, and you cross the street in a hurry.

“Hey!” he greets, wrapping you in a hug. “You sure it was a good surprise? I was worried it’d be too much, but I really wanted you with me. If I went too far, seriously, tell me. I know we haven’t really talked about where we are but I really like you and it seems to be the same for you so I’d hoped it would be alright. Plus, Simeon said you’d like it. And yes, I’m totally throwing him under the bus right now in case you don’t,” he adds, trying to alleviate some of the seriousness.

You laugh. “I like it. And I like the idea of a jacuzzi tub. I’m all gross from the plane. And I do like you, a lot, so you have nothing to worry about there. It’s a sweet gesture.” 

Diavolo leans in to kiss you then, something you return, pleased. Though it’d only been a few days of separation, you’d found yourself really missing him. Almost too much, you worried.

Once you break apart, Diavolo takes your bag from you, slinging it over his shoulder, and you can’t help but smile up at him. You twine your fingers through his, relishing the feel of the west coast. Though it was winter, the balmy beach weather was much nicer than the frozen streets of the Devildom. And to think you once considered this weather cold. 

Diavolo and you mosey out of the airport and down the street, not in any particular hurry. When you do get into the lobby, you’re instantly greeted by half of the team, who’d apparently been stalking the two of you from the expansive windows. 

“You made it!” Asmo cheers, eyes sparkling. “Now we can really have some fun!” 

“Sorry, sorry, but I’m afraid I’m going to be keeping MC all to myself for the time being,” Diavolo says, not sounding very apologetic. “We’ve got a date with the jacuzzi tub.” 

“We?” you say, giving him a look. “Who said anything about ‘we’? I said that I wanted a bath.” 

Simeon laughs, shaking his head, and you share a smile with him. 

“No, no, come on,” Diavolo begs theatrically. “Don’t deprive me. Of the wonderful jacuzzi jets, of course,” he adds hastily, seeing your unimpressed look. 

“You’d better be nice to him,” Lucifer warns you, in a tone you’ve only recently begun to recognize as his joking one. “I already gave up rooming with him for you, and I don’t need him complaining to me. Not when I now have to deal with rooming with these nitwits.” 

“Hey!” Mammon and Simeon protest. 

“It’s not like I said your names,” Lucifer says drily. 

“Yeah, but it was clear you were talking about us,” Mammon responds, and their squabbling fades into the background as Diavolo pulls you to the elevators, mashing the ‘Close Doors’ button before anyone else can get on. 

“You didn’t really mean that, did you?” he asks, turning to you. “You’re going to let me in the tub, right? If you don’t it might cause me to not play my best and lead to the Chols winning the cup tomorrow. You don’t want that, do you?” 

“Oh, we’re threatening now, are we?” you laugh, and he shakes his head. 

“Not threatening, just informing.” 

“I see,” you say. “Well, since I have a vested interest in seeing the Dogs take this game, I guess I’d better do anything that I can to ensure a win.” 

“Anything?” Diavolo asks, eyebrows waggling, and you give him a sly smile. 

“Anything.” 

∙

“Are you getting hungry?” Diavolo eventually asks, and you roll over to better face him. He looks like a dream, hair spread across the pillow, dark skin beautiful against the white sheets. “Lucifer just texted; apparently some of the Chols want to meet up at a bar, do a little pre-game catching up. They really want to see Simeon.” He hesitates. “But if you don’t want to do that, we can grab food somewhere else by ourselves.” 

“No, no,” you say quickly. “I’m not going to deprive the team of its captain. And, I have missed the boys. I’d love to see them. I’m just a little nervous.”

“Because of Raphael?” he asks gently. You’d filled him in on your past with the other hockey player, in bits and pieces, and Diavolo's been fully understanding, sharing his own stories of past love in return. You’d only grown closer through honesty, and you’re glad you’d been open with him, as now you don’t have to do any awkward explaining or suffer through any misunderstandings. 

“Some,” you admit honestly. “Well, mostly because of him. But I think it’ll just be weird to see them all. The Chols were my life at one point, you know, so it’s just going to be bittersweet. I do want to see them, though,” you add firmly, making up your mind, “so let’s go.” 

“Are you sure?” Diavolo reaches over, brushing across your cheek. You lean into his touch, nodding. 

“I’m sure. Now, stop touching me, because I need to actually get out of this bed and get ready.” 

“You already look perfect,” Diavolo insists, and you bat his hand away, sitting up. 

“Flatterer,” you reply cheekily. “But I’m pretty sure you’re the only one I want to see me like this. So let me get ready, alright?”

“Fine, fine,” he says. “I guess I’ll shower. Unless you want to join?” 

“No!” you huff with a laugh. “Stop tempting me. And, we just took baths.” 

“Well, I need a shower if we’re going to leave this hotel room,” he says meaningfully, and though your cheeks heat a little, you remain strong. Seeing that, he sighs, then stands, heading for the bathroom, leaving the door open as he dramatically turns on the shower, sending you enticing looks over his shoulder as he does so.

Once he finally gets in, you pull yourself out of bed, moving over to your carry-on. Thankfully, you’d packed a couple of outfit choices, not knowing what to expect. Choosing the most suitable, something casual and yet attractive, you get dressed, then realize you’re going to need the bathroom to fix your hair and do your makeup. 

“I’m coming in,” you call, toiletry bag in hand. It only takes a second for his head to pop out from behind the shower curtain, excitement diminishing once he sees you’re dressed. 

“Oh,” he says. “I thought you meant into the shower. But I guess not.” 

“Stop it, you,” you say, turning on the sink to wash your face, and he laughs. 

You’re almost finished with your makeup when the shower turns off, Diavolo stepping out a moment later with the towel low on his hips. You studiously ignore him, applying mascara with more focus than necessary. He doesn’t let that slide, wrapping his arms around you from behind. 

“You better not get me wet,” you warn, switching to your setting powder. 

“I won’t,” he says, and you turn your head slightly, giving him a look from the corner of your eye. His chin rests on your shoulder, and when you turn, your faces are mere inches apart. Diavolo hugs you tighter, kissing you, and you’re glad you haven’t applied lipstick yet. 

“Alright, alright, get off of me,” you say after a moment, a small smile crossing your lips. “Unless you want to have to take another shower.” 

“Cruel woman,” Diavolo bemoans, but does as you say, disappearing into the other room to get dressed. He returns a moment later, in dark jeans and a t-shirt, one that displays the Dogs’ logo. 

“You can’t be serious,” you say as he combs through his hair with his fingers. 

“What?” 

“Team merch, really?” 

He cracks an attractive smile, mirth dancing in his eyes. “Of course. I’ve gotta represent, you know.” 

You can only shake your head. 

As you’re putting on your shoes, there’s a knock on the door. Diavolo answers it, revealing Barbatos. 

“Oh, good, you’re both decent,” Barbatos says mildly, and you give him a glare. “We’re all headed downstairs.” 

“We’re ready,” Diavolo says and you stand, making sure you have your purse. You all walk down to the lobby, Diavolo’s hand in yours the whole way. 

“How are you feeling?” Simeon asks at one point, voice quiet.

“Nervous,” you reply honestly. “You?” 

“Nervous,” he echoes. “But I think it’ll be fine. I’m excited to see Raphael and the others again.” 

“I am too,” you agree. “It’ll be nice to catch up. Especially before we kick their asses tomorrow.” 

Simeon laughs. “I like the way you think.”

As you get closer to the bar where you’re all meeting up, you can’t deny that your hands get a little sweaty and your stomach starts to knot. You know the worst thing you'll find is a shit-ton of awkwardness (or at least that’s what you really hope), and that once you see it through it’ll ease, but you’re still not super keen on putting yourself in the situation. 

Ten minutes, you tell yourself, then things will be fine. Plus, you’ll have Diavolo and Simeon by your side and all the other boys to make distractions and break the ice. 

Diavolo squeezes your hand as you enter the bar, and immediately, your eyes find the familiar sight of Raphael’s ash-colored hair. You gulp; there’s no turning back now. 

“Hey!” Mammon calls out easily, and the boys turn. You recognize some others aside from Raphael, and thankfully a few have brought their wives, making it less awkward that you’re there and also giving you a breath of relief because you were familiar with them. 

Raphael’s eyes lock onto yours, then sharpen on you and Diavolo’s linked hands. There’s no animosity in them, just that same awkward cautiousness you feel, another relief. 

“Hey, come join us,” Raphael says, gesturing to the rest of the table. The bar staff, or maybe the Chols, had pushed a few tables together, making a monster table to fit the mishmash of people. You pull out a seat between Simeon—who’s across from Raphael—and Diavolo, who lets go of your hand as you sit. You smile at the girl across from you, not recognizing her. 

“Hi,” you greet the table at large, among various other greetings being given. “It’s nice to see you all again, and nice to meet you, those I haven’t met yet.” 

The girl across from you smiles at that, introducing herself as Thirteen, the main goalie’s sister. 

“So, uh, how goes the season?” Raphael asks Simeon awkwardly. “You miss us yet?” 

Simeon laughs. “Miss your snoring? Nah, not really. And the season’s going great, obviously. I’m glad you guys made it this far too, it’ll be fun to put you in your place.” 

“Starting the chirping already?” Diavolo asks him, throwing an arm across your shoulders. “Careful, Simeon, I think we’re outnumbered here.” 

“You’ve changed, Simeon,” Raphael says. “I think the Dogs are rubbing off on you. Anyway, MC, how have you been? Business going well?”

“Oh, yeah, your designs for this season are killer,” Thirteen adds before you can answer. “I mean, the font change for the Dogs’ numbers was such a good touch.” 

“Oh, thank you,” you laugh. “I’m surprised anyone picked up on that! It’s such a small detail but really impacts the overall vibe of the Jerseys.” 

Awareness dawns on Diavolo. “Wait. Are you talking about the team jerseys? As in, the jersey designs?” 

“Bingo,” you say slyly. “My job: designing jerseys for sports teams. Mostly hockey teams.” 

“I forgot you guys didn’t know,” Simeon says. “Yeah MC’s like, totally in charge of the jerseys. Remember the Veterans Day design? I helped with that.” 

“Barely,” you snort.

“You’re serious,” Diavolo mumbles. “How did I not know that?” 

You shrug. “Well, I didn’t mention it when we first met and it hasn’t really come up since. Anyway,” you turn back to Raphael, unable to hide your amused smile, “yeah, business is going well! Thanks for asking. How’s that knee been?” 

“Oh, you know,” Raphael shrugs. “I’ve been more careful this season since I don’t have someone to nurse me back to health.” His ears steadily turn red as he realizes what he just said, and you’re sure you’re no better. 

“Well,” you begin, but thankfully Simeon cuts in. 

“You were always lucky with that. Lately, MC just throws an ice pack at me. No sympathy, I swear!” 

“That’s because your injuries are all your fault,” you criticize. “Never stops when he should, this guy.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I’m getting something from the bar. Raphael, you want something?” 

They both head for the bar, and you sigh, slumping in your seat. Diavolo leans over to you, eyes concerned but also accusing. 

“I guess we’ll talk about the jersey thing later,” he says, quirking his lips slightly. “I’m sure the team will be very interested to hear. Who knows, maybe they’ll have some design input.” 

“Oh, god,” you say quickly. You hadn’t even considered that. “You’d better not tell them, I swear! I’ll kick your ass if you do.” 

“I don’t doubt it,” he assures you, laughing. “But seriously, I can’t believe I’ve never known that. Now I feel like a bad person for not knowing something so basic. And also kind of like an idiot. I guess I just thought you were acquainted with the upper staff through me when it was really through your own work. Self-centered, much?” 

“Really, Diavolo, it’s fine,” you assure him. “I was aware you didn’t know, even taking care to avoid bringing it up at the beginning. Now you do know, so you can stop feeling bad about it. And I’m sorry if you feel betrayed, that wasn’t my intention.” 

“No, no,” he hastens. “It just reminds me how much I still have to learn about you.” 

“Well, there’s lots and lots of time for that,” you reply, and he smiles, something in his eyes easing. You really hadn’t intended to hurt him with this and now just feel like an asshole. “And I have so much to learn about you, too. But I’m looking forward to it.” 

Realizing how rude you’re being to Thirteen, perhaps at the same time, you and Diavolo turn back to her. So lost in your own world, you hadn’t realized Solomon had taken Raphael’s empty seat, now engaged in some fiery debate. 

“Let’s stay out of that one,” Diavolo murmurs to you, as Solomon starts using four-syllable words he only pulls out when he’s trying to academically shame someone, and you nod. 

Instead, you and Diavolo split up, talking to various people around the room. It’s nice for you to check in on the Chols’ players and their wives and partners, and they seem just as happy to see you. Any worries of tension (to you or to Simeon) disappear quickly, and you find yourself interacting with them just like you used to. One look at Simeon shows he’s faring well, surrounded by teammates old and new. 

Warmth expands in your heart and you grab another drink from the bar, just happy to be with the people you love and care for.

(Your eyes find Diavolo as you think that, and though you don’t particularly care to dig into the sentiment, you find yourself comfortable with it all the same.)

Raphael finds you, eventually, offering another beer as a peace offering. You take it, looking at the man you used to love so dearly. You still love him, but only as a friend. Something settles in your chest at the confirmation of what you’d been suspecting: any lingering feelings for him have fully dissipated and you’re ready to move on. Fully.

He seems to realize this, and you suspect that he feels much the same way. The memories between you will hold a special place in your heart forever, sometimes even hurt, but you don’t regret the time you’ve spent with him. You only regret that you hadn’t met Diavolo sooner. 

“You’ve got yourself a real catch,” he says, a little sleepily in the way you know to mean he’s slightly inebriated. Not too much, of course, but socially, as are most of the players. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well.” 

“Thank you,” you say. “I’m glad, you’re doing well too, Raphael. Congrats again on making it this far this season. Your playing has been incredible.” 

“You’ve been watching?” 

You sigh softly. “How could I not? Especially at the beginning of the season, when all I was doing was missing you. Guys. You guys. The Dogs are great, of course, but I can’t lie. They were a little intimidating at the beginning.” 

He laughs. “You should see them on the ice.” 

“Oh, I can imagine.” 

A silence, soft and fragile like an early spring day falls between you two, and you give him one more smile. “I’ll see you around, yeah? Don’t be a stranger.” 

“I won’t,” he promises, and you both exchange one more look, laying it all to rest, before you float off to find Diavolo, who’s conversing with Lucifer and one of the rookies from the Chols.

“Everything alright?” he asks, pulling you into his side, pressing his cheek to the top of your head.

“Yeah,” you say, leaning into him. “Everything’s alright.” 

∙

Excitement bubbles through your veins as you take your seat, one similar in position to the one you have at the Dogs’ home rink, basically on the ice and near the team box. The only difference is that you’re on the away side instead of the home, allowing you to continue to sit near the Dogs.  

As a personal guest of the Captain, you’d been offered a plush VIP box but had declined, preferring to get down and dirty in the thick of things as you always had. 

Diavolo’s name sits proudly across your shoulders—his real jersey, not a replica sold to fans—and you inhale the spicy scent of his cologne (yeah, you’d asked to borrow it to spray on the jersey, so what), reveling in the electric feeling filling the arena. Though many of the fans are in the white and light blue of the Celestial City Chols, quite a fair amount of black and red can be seen throughout the crowd, showing the many diehard fans who’d made the trip across the country. The only similarities between the teams’ color schemes are the gold accents, glittering and shining under the harsh overhead lighting. 

Everyone is excited for this game. Not only is it the last deciding game in the finals, the one that will determine who will take the freaking Calder Cup home, but it’s also between two rival teams. Two rival teams that are both determined to work themselves to the bone, pouring blood, sweat, and tears into winning (though not all of it their own, knowing the Dogs). It’s going to be a game that’ll go down in AHL history.

The minutes tick by and finally both teams take the ice for warm-up. The boys wave and smile, Mammon taking care to be an ass and send a puck right towards your face, as has become his pre-game ritual, but you really only have eyes for Diavolo.

Diavolo, who looks hot as hell in your championship jerseys (white, with red, gold, and black accents), who blows you a kiss as best he can around his mouthguard, who looks like he’s ready to lead his team to a very satisfying and devastating victory.

You would swoon but instead settle for yelling and screaming just as loud as the rest of the arena. 

After the starting lineup is announced, with much more pomp and circumstance than the other games, and the national anthem is finished, you sit on the edge of the seat, watching as the ceremonial puck is dropped. It’s very nice and all, but you’re ready for the game to begin.

After what feels like forever, it finally does, and you watch as Raphael and Simeon face one another, kitty-corner. It’s surreal, after so many seasons of watching them play the same line. Diavolo and Lucifer aren’t far behind the forwards, and every member of both teams is completely and utterly focused on the puck.

The arena is so silent you could hear a pin drop as the music fades, and in a clatter of skates and sticks on ice, the puck is dropped. The Chols gain possession, the center sending the puck back to the left d-man, who sends it to the left winger smoothly. The Dogs don’t take that lying down, and chase after the puck. Levi gets there first, and manages to take the puck, passing it to Solomon, who forges a blazing trail down the ice. Amidst the various cheering and booing, you think, perhaps delusionally, you can make out Thirteen’s unique tone, screaming out her displeasure. 

The Chols d-men are frustratingly persistent, and what follows is several minutes of back and forth, with both teams failing to make a goal. Shots are attempted by both sides, but are all blocked by the goalie or intercepted by other team members, and when Beel finally gets the puck in his glove, you let out a sigh of relief that they’re all able to take a break. You watch as the players all assemble for an end zone face-off, one that the Dogs win. Both teams are playing viscous and dirty, with checks rattling the boards all around. 

“Get it out of there!” you scream, as yet another attempted goal shot is made, and as if they hear you, the forward line, which is now Mammon, Asmo, and Satan, push back towards the Chols’ goal. A brief scuffle near the defending line takes place, and the ref whistles, calling offsides on the Chols. 

The first period passes without any goals, despite both teams' desperate pushing. Though neither side scores, you know it’ll only be a matter of time in the second, as the Dogs have been gaining momentum as the night goes on. 

You whistle at the boys as they make their way from the bench to the locker room and Diavolo grins up at you, pulling off his helmet. He’s sweaty and out of breath, but handsome as all get out, and you’ve never been prouder to be bearing his name on your back. 

When the teams finally return after the break, you’re back on your feet, cheering as they take the ice. The Dogs gain possession of the puck in the first face-off, heading the opposite way than they had been previously due to the goal switch, unstoppable. Asmo, who has the puck, leaves the other team in the dust, zipping through and shooting in the blink of an eye. It goes in, as you’d hoped, prayed, suspected, and the roar of the crowd is thunderous. You can’t help but imagine what it’d be like in your home arena, in your home city. 

And it's odd. Sometime, over the course of the season, the Devildom had truly become your home. It’s not a shocking thing, by any means, but serves to make you cheer that much louder and clap that much harder. 

With a goal under their belts, the Dogs have a new fire lit beneath them. But the Chols aren’t giving up easily, and once Raphael checks Simeon hard across the boards in front of you. He’s a fearsome one when it comes to that, known even during his rookie days for his painfully-placed and technically legal elbow placements, and you wonder if the smile that had been shot your way was purposeful. Simeon skates it off impressively, though you know he’ll be aching later.

Diavolo does a great job staying on top of defense, and you’re aware of that same ease between him and Lucifer that you’d picked up on during their very first game together. You’d gotten to know Lucifer well during the season, and you make a mental note to yourself to take extra care when making his ‘good job on winning the Cup’ basket, to thank him for being such a great friend and partner to Diavolo.

When the two of them go back to the bench, switched out by Barbatos and Belphie, Diavolo waves at you in between great big gulps of water, and you make sure to take lots of pictures when you can tear your eyes from the game. 

The CC Chols score as well during the second period, tying them up as they go into the third. Though you’d think they’d all be quite tired, neither team is flagging, both playing and pushing hard. The Chols get another goal in, unfortunately, when Beel’s just a tad too slow, and you’re once again aware you’re in the fan minority as the crowd goes wild. 

They stay in the lead for several heart-pounding minutes, and apparently fed up with the tension, Mammon drops gloves, firecracker personality on full display. He gets the Chol player into a headlock, raining punches down onto him until he’s pulled off by the refs, much to the crowd’s disappointment. That gets him a few minutes in the sin bin, and you groan, knowing what a disadvantage the Dogs are at. The last thing they need is to be two down in the final period!

Diavolo rallies the team, showing his incredible skill and prowess as a captain, and thankfully, the Chols are unable to use the power play to their advantage, and Mammon skates back onto the ice like a hellcat.

Gameplay is stopped again after elbowing is called towards a Chols player, and you cheer as he gets some time in the box. Unlike the Chols, the Dogs score on their play, tying it all back up. Satan manages to scare and gets piled on by the team, and for once, he’s not pushing them back, a rare smile lighting up his face.

The end of the period draws nearer and nearer, and yet neither team pulls ahead. Anxiety and excitement are racing through you, and you continue to scream out your support, even as your voice grows hoarse.

Will this game go into overtime? That almost never happens in a finals game like this!

But as you resign yourself to the possibility, Simeon takes possession of the puck, passing it to Solomon, who goes to take a shot, and upon realizing he doesn't have a clear one, gives it right back. Simeon doesn’t hesitate, finely honed instincts taking over, and delivers it into the net with only a few minutes left of play. You scream, cheering as loud as you can, and the celly that follows is almost disrespectful, lasting a bit too long. 

Though the Chols don’t give up, they're unable to get another point before the buzzer sounds, and you can hardly believe it. The Dogs won! Your team won the fucking Calder Cup!

The boys celebrate in the ice, hefting Simeon up and onto their shoulders and Diavolo takes the cup and delivers it right into his waiting gloves. Simeon hefts it, grinning and crying, and you feel yourself crying too, unable to believe how far he’s gotten, the monumental feat he’d just completed. 

Diavolo’s eyes find yours, and hastily, he skates for the bench, fitting on his skate guards sloppily. As if he expected it, the door attendant pulls open the door to the dating section, still blocked by the metal gate, and you reach for him through the bars, glad they’re wide enough for you to pull him close by the pads and kiss him long and hard. Fans around you boo and scream, but you’re lost in your own world, lost in him. 

“I love you,” Diavolo says as he pulls away, breathing heavily. He’s crying too, but his smile is ear-to-ear, and you pull him in again, peppering kisses all over his cheeks, nose, and forehead, overwhelmed by your joy. 

“I love you too,” you say, and finally, someone opens the gate between you, and Diavolo lifts you up into a hug, kissing you again. You hear camera shutters and see flashbulbs go off and have no doubt your image will be all over articles and social media posts by tomorrow, but can’t bring yourself to care. Eventually, Simeon joins you, and you break from Diavolo to hug him tightly, both of you breaking down fully into sobs.

Diavolo lets you have your moment with your best friend, but Simeon’s soon stolen away by members of the team and you’re all shepherded out of the stands and off the ice so the boys can do their post-game photos and interviews and the like. Diavolo hesitates to pull away, but you shove him along, smiling. 

“Go,” you say. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.” 

“I love you,” he says again, a little helplessly. 

“I know.” 

How did you get so lucky, with this man, this team, this life? You watch the boys, heart bursting, and can’t wait to support them for their next season as well.

Although, not before you and Diavolo do everything you want during the offseason, including traveling and exploring, putting some of both of your accumulated wealth to good use. You’ve heard the Maldives are pretty this time of year, and nice and relaxing for Diavolo to recover. And private, you think with relish. The hotel you pick will be private. Very, very private. 

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[gatitties]

Hello hello! May I request Female!Teen!Reader x Strawhats, Kid Pirates and Heart Pirates? All are Platonic! The reader has the power to change, well, everything. Past, present, future, people's behaviour and appearance, animals, history, and more. But she can't change the memories of the people or their feelings. She's kind of like the author in their universe. Able to rewrite and write in general. Everything she writes comes true. But with every change she makes, it takes a day off her lifespan. She can only use her power three times a day, and if she uses it for more than three times then it takes 1 year off her lifespan. She is careful though, and hasn't used it for more than three times a day her whole life. And another thing! Everything she rewrites or writes in general, is tattooed on her body. It just appears after she's done changing stuff. So eventually other people discovers this, in some way. People who don't have good intentions. It didn't really bother her for some time because, well, she can just write/rewrite the enemy's ship route or weapons and stuff so that it will not lead them to her. Until the day she used her powers three times a day already and there was an enemy that got too close. A strong one, stronger than all of the crew combined. So naturally it put her and her crew's life on the line. The enemy didn't give the reader a choice, she HAS to come with them. They plan to kill her crew, even the ones that aren't capable of bringer her back from the enemy. Better safe than sorry. With no other choice, the reader uses her powers again to get the crew to safety and take the enemy down. That's two changes, two years off her lifespan. That's the first she used her powers for more than three times a day. She'll do anything to keep her friends (or chosen/found family) safe and sound. They have big dreams and a bright future ahead of them after all. Except, instead of returning back to the crew, she left. That's the most logical thing to do, isn't it? That way her crew will be safe. She's a danger to them all. But she knows even after she leaves the enemy will still use them as hostages. So she changes the news' content to that being her crew abandoning her because she was a danger to them. That's not true, of course. But some lies just have to be said. So now her crew will spend the next 8 months chasing her down to get her back to them. I'll leave it to you with how will that go and what the aftermath will be like. Thank you and have a nice day/night!!

─Strawhats, Kid Pirates & Heart Pirates x teen!fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: Even with the power to write and rewrite the course of your life and the lives of others, bad things are bound to happen.

─Warnings: none

─ You are quite aware of your power and what it entails to have it, despite not being the most mature person within the crew, you recognized certain limits and did not waste many of your opportunities to re-write something.

─ However, you are still a teenager, a little careless to use your power one day in the hope of being able to spend a good time with the crew without anyone interrupting, the problem was that it ended up not being a calm day like you thought.

─ You tried to solve the problem by taking a year off your life, however the enemy ended up with you at their side, you could see Luffy's desperate look and Zoro's furious one, everyone seemed dejected when they took you away.

─ An exhaustive search began to find you, and at first you used your power to write some things so that they could find you, hope persisted in you, however, when you saw how they were damaged to find you even with your help, you changed your mind drastically.

─ As much as it hurt you, you didn't want to go back to them, because you learned that danger would only loom over them if you were by their side, you didn't want to see the scared expressions of Nami, Usopp or Chopper, you didn't want to see a Sanji or Robin wounded, you didn't want to see Franky, Brook or Jinbe receive an attack to protect you from danger.

─ Of course, rumors about you spread like wildfire, before you could go unnoticed, but due to the abuse of your power that you had done lately, practically your entire body was tattooed with the events that you changed.

─ However, this crew will not give up until you return to them, they do not care about the dangers they have to go through, the threats they have to face, you are part of the crew and you should not be going through this.

─ You try to get them away by changing the story plot, but it seems that their feelings are stronger and more immovable than your powers, your captain doesn't give a shit about temporarily abandoning his dream of being the king of pirates if it is to rescue one of his comrades, there is no way they will leave you behind, especially now that they know that your name is recognized at such a young age.

─ You fight as much as you can with the temptation to use your powers to annoy the crew a little, they also encourage you to do some stupid things with them, but Killer will always make you keep a cool head, he knows that you can easily get carried away by your naivety sometimes.

─ You are always a great support, that's why they were quite aware that if someone discovered your powers you would be a target, and even though Heat and Wire did everything possible to protect you, they kidnapped you.

─ You were completely scared because in your state of hysteria due to the kidnapping you lost at least two years of life, you were too scared since you had never reached that extreme.

─ But as the days progressed and you saw great pirates, thieves and even marines come and go, you realized that now you were not just a simple carefree teenager in Kid's crew.

─ You knew that Kid is a proud idiot, and that he wouldn't let one of his comrades be kidnapped just like that, so you heard a lot about him causing chaos wherever he went to find you.

─ You tried countless times to change his route, to make them not find clues about you, but the redhead's fiery determination and the support of his companions meant that your efforts were not enough to keep them away.

─ They could feel that their journey was complicated, that their clues sometimes reached a dead end, they knew that it was you trying not to expose them to more dangers, but you should know them better.

─ These savages enjoy seeing blood flow like rivers, that now your name was known were only advantages to overcome themselves in increasingly difficult duels, even if you don't want to fight against that, you shouldn't worry because they will be ready to attack like mad dogs defending to their offspring.

─ Law makes you aware of how beneficial and dangerous your abilities can be and strictly prohibits you from using it more than three times, as you can sometimes be careless or capricious without ever knowing how valuable a life is.

─ Although everything went to shit when they came under attack and took you in the middle of the fight, Shachi could see it with his own eyes but he couldn't do anything, he saw you fight but give up due to the excessive use of your power.

─ They will take their time to find the little clues you left, although from the beginning you were reluctant to let them find you due to the exposure you have now gained in the pirate world.

─ It bothered you a little that, even re-writing things, your friends were still so persistent, but Law was not going to let someone so young be used as an object of benefit for your powers, he knew that they would end up killing you for the excessive use.

─ They came close to making you return to them on a couple of occasions, but you had to look ahead and deny the offer to return to the crew, you couldn't look because you wouldn't be able to bear seeing Ikkaku look at you sadly.

─ You become a little desperate because they don't seem to back down from leaving you to your fate, although you may have freed yourself from your captor at first, many other people are also looking for you now.

─ Shachi, Penguin and Bepo are constantly after you, begging for you to come back to them, it's too difficult for you to contain yourself because you miss them too.

─ Law ends up dragging you to the Polar Tang like a scolded puppy, you didn't usually act like a brat despite your age but during this whole situation you managed to irritate him, just stop trying to carry all the weight, they are there to support you and it's not like if they didn't know how to get rid of problems.

[pastel-rights]

Pick rooms that belong to your current obsession (media) and put your friends in them

Hell.

... juuuuuuuust kidding. /ref

Unfortunately, I don't have just one obsession, I have a group which I rotate in my brain like the lego man in the tumbler, so... I'm sending everyone to their new homes, and if you're unhappy with where you stand, sorry, I do make the rules actually! Who's ready to see their new home?

Let's see... who's first?

...

Issy. Issy! You're first! I'm sending you to... the Hadal Blacksite! Go my Issy, be free, commit crimes, and fight with Sebastian. He owes me a gummylight I WANT it.

You can have Idol's room, as a courtesy even. Free food, fuck the searchlights, nice performances, a tooooooon of stuffed animals, honestly anything comforting you can think of, Idol 's room has it. Pretty neat to be honest.

Only thing is she sleeps on a mattress on the floor but if you can get past that part? 10/10 room.

Satoru? Do I have to? Can't I send him to hell? Pretty please?

No?

Damn. Damn! Ugh, fine uhm. Shit where DO I put his ass? I can't send him to hell, I can't leave him homeless, that just makes ME the asshole.

I'll put him innnnnnnnnnnnnn. theeeee. Hotel from the Inn-Sanity. Yeah! go. go fuck up the priest for me, sweetheart! the wedding can go back on once I'm undoomed by the inn-sanity's narrative. /ref /silly

Saturday can have the room from the first Amanda the Adventurer! Fucking love that game, love myself a good haunted television adventurer. Go, solve the mysteries in my death tapes!

Navi, I'm sending you to into the second Amanda the Adventurer game. I'm sure you'll be able to figure out all the secrets in that game before the monsters find you, no? Teehee. (a threat)

Try not to die too soon, m'kay? /j

Fifi... hmph. I don't know where I can possibly send you without you causing an issue to be honest. So, choose an analog horror from this book, whatever fills your cannibalistic heart with the most bloody joy.

Don't tell me which one you choose though. I don't need to know.

Originally, I was going to give you Lighter's room, but since you want to act like you're a goddamn stalker and serial killer, Taegan Mariah Collins, you can have Ronin's room. Goddamn antichrist actin' ass.

I got a short fuse for fools, don't get arrogant. /lyr

Yuu is going to the murder house hehehehehehehe.

Four... honestly, I can just send you to Octavinelle and call it a day, because you are an eel and whatnot. Eels love water and shit, right?

...

Actually, I think I'll send you to Fontaine, it's probably a nice, better place, more room for you to swim around, more people worthy of being squeezed, it's a pretty sweet deal, no?

Maybe we can go track down some assholes together. Just, don't mind me setting myself on fire. C4 Hu Tao does things to you... shudders.

Klai can have her time in a LGTS/Pocket Mirror themed room. I know, I know, I'm a goddamn saint. Not my personal interest of course, but, I know my cilentle.

Clown... clown clown clown clown clown... can I send them to the circus from Madagascar. Afro circus afro circus afro polka dot polka dot polka dot afro.

Beth! Beth!!! I'm sending you to... Bonnie's Bakery!

Wait. Wait no not Bonnie's Bakery. Not that one.

Cooking Mama, that's the one. Final answer. Go make your silly foods, bestie. I do want a discount though I am hungry. /j

Pins feels like a Home Safety Hotline girlie. If you don't know the game, bestie, go check it out. That game would do WONDERS in Dynathus.

Whatever, go my HSH Pins. /ref Enjoy your new room, the free computer, and the power over every life that calls your hotline, babe. Good luck!

Emma and Al are kind of a package deal, I can't separate them! And if I ever separate them, feel free to kill me actually. Okay well don't actually kill me, dying sounds painful please please please please-

Rooms for them, rooms for them... hmm. I think they'd be fun roommates for a Dollmare themed room or the Inn-Sanity as well. They'd make the horrors real fun real fast, me thinks. I could count on them to have my back in these worlds.

They're fun people, so, their rooms should reflect that.

Me, personally? I think Rina deserves a cute room, something reflecting her fun personality and amazing presence!

I'm sending you back to your FNaF phase. sowwy. You'll forgive me, righttttt? Rightttt????? Righttt!

I think a FNaF Joy of Creation room for Rina would just be... a little silly, teehee!!

Lupi... hmm. Congrats, you're getting an Honkai Impact 3rd themed room, specifically, the Elysium Realm. You now have an in-home bar, ain't that nice?

Orange can have a DHMIS room, I think the vibes fit them perfectly. Fun, colorful, slightly cursed, tons of plotting plans to have, and overall just extremely silly and fun to visit.

Joe. Omori room. All three spaces included. Enough said.

.

.

.

Well, that's it. If I missed you, let me know! This post took forever to think of and make. Teehee.

[mcbride]

Daryl Dixon Rewatch S1E02 - Alouette

what i loved the most about this ep was getting to know these kids, their way of living and surviving, and how that allowed us to take a look at Daryl's own stolen childhood. but first things first, Daryl's one track mind - his goal is to return home, in spite of everyone he has any kind of conversation with telling him home/family is who you're with now.

also sassy!Daryl is back full force, and that's one of the things i love the most about this show. some more thoughts after the jump...

it's ironic and hilarious, how Daryl was deemed the one, the messenger, to protect the new Messiah by Isabelle, and the dude keeps getting tricked, trapped, bested by old dudes and children and saved by a nun and some random kids. one thing is what the characters say and believe, and the other is what we are watching on screen. Daryl's not a hero, and the show is making that clear, IMO. not with words, but with action.

Father Daryl, plsss. the moment he is saying grace surrounded by a bunch of children is one of the most genuine Daryl moments in years. there's some kind of innocence and honesty we rarely see that gives us another look into who he is. slurping some good soup without a care in the world for one brief moment in time.

and then there's Mork and Mindy, and how Daryl smiles watching it with them kids, his own childhood feeling so close and far away, bringing up old memories, the only happy memories of his brother Merle while they were kids. it's beautiful.

the share a bed scene with Izzy no one asked for, but that is meant to show they getting to know each other, and i get it, the show is doing it to keep us wondering if something is gonna transpire, keep us interested and invested.

when Daryl says the kids can't miss something they never had (aka normal childhood), he is talking about his own childhood, and perhaps soooo much more he wished he got to live and experience. i will not mention Carol cause that seems wildly inappropriate, but there i mentioned her. she's his only link to who he was and who he is now. despite them never openly talking about their history, Carol knows Merle, knows where he comes from, the type of life he had, and they are connected through that pain of what life should have been like if they hadn't been hurt by people who were supposed to love them and protect them in the past. anywaysss, i just got way too deep.

Daryl's desperation to get to that radio and take him one step closer to getting home makes him do something he normally wouldn't: LIE!!

RJ, the asshole, is telling him all that matters is getting back home to his wife and kids, and Daryl be like "dude, same," but he gets uncharacteristically cruel when he tells him that there's no home to get back to, that everybody is gone, and i can't help but think that's Daryl's own fears talking.

"i'm better off on my own," he said. he was def not since the kids had to pull him out of that walker pit after he blew shit up, like he does. the funny part was when he gets up like an old man with bad knees. there goes that hero!Daryl image out the window once again. he's feeling his age lol

then Daryl does the most Daryl thing he's done since he got to France. he put down that walker!kid for Lou. that's who Daryl is. he cares about people, he will take the weight off of them and offer some comfort. he's not a hero, but he is a good guy with a good heart. he is a man of honor. Carol was right! and he apologizes for lying to Lou.

Laurent should have stayed with those kids at the preschool. he obviously didn't wanna leave, he made friends, and they could teach him everything he needs to know how to survive and live and be happy. but he is "special," or so his aunt says. imma say it again, if Laurent is to have a happy ending, this is exactly where he should end up at. s2 i'll be seated and waiting for you to deliver Carol and Daryl saving this kid together, and letting him live happily ever after with this group.

that final bonding moment between Daryl and Laurent is very moving. Daryl keeps telling him he is lucky to have people who love him and who will protect him, something he himself never had. this ep took one deep dive into Daryl's childhood while still giving us the Laurent origin story. WELL DONE, Zabel.

see y'all next week!!!!

50 days left until the premiere of THE BOOK OF CAROL!!!!!

[inkdrinkerworld]

Omg omg omg LOGAN... please... babe... I will give you my firstborn???

I NEED a Phoenix! Reader logan story where somehow through the multiverse shenanigans days of future past logan meets with reader whos in this marvel universe and she's basically taken the spot of Jean like, there was no Jean, just y/n.

And it's just them falling into a routine like they've been together for so many years, and they're just catching up on lost time, spending every moment with each other, he's amazed at how you can control your powers, even though you still have difficulties and they're so understanding of each other and they're just IN LOVE---

I'm so sorry if this is so complicated lol ily

omg baby this is so good!!

it's your hair that catches his attention first, long and red and curly down your back. then your suit, similar to his universes jean and he's scowling at the professor.

"is this some kind of a joke? who is she?" you can hear them, but logan doesn't care, not even as you help alex move something from the plane.

"she's this universe's pheonix. but she's nothing like jean," it's high praise if it's coming from the professor, "she can control it, or control it better than our jean."

it's hard for logan to warm up to you at first, but he tries. mostly because you're so kind even when he's brutish and crass.

"logan," you say as you sit down beside him, hands hovering in your lap as you stare at him. "why don't you like me?"

he's got a cigar in his mouth as he contemplates your question. "s'not that i don't like you kid," he says carefully. "i just," he sighs, pulling the cigar from his mouth. "i just knew someone with your exact powers and it didn't end too well for her."

you nod, "the professor told me about your phoenix," your eyebrows draw together, logan grunts when the tip of his cigar is lit and burning. "sometimes the power is too much, but most times, you can get it right."

the war only brings you and logan closer, the entire thing a bit taxing on you as you fight and try to keep everything in order.

you're fighting mystique when you can feel the phoenix coming forward.

"you're gonna need to get everyone out of here, logan!" you yell, wrist flicking to draw away some of your companions coming to help.

"what are you thinking of doing?" he yells back, and you close your eyes, showing him your plan in your mind.

'be careful,' he speaks to your mind and you smile, stretching your hands forward to reach the machines.

you're still not sure what your power looks like when the phoenix comes out, but you focus on the sentinels, focus on keeping them away from the people who have come to be your friends.

your scream is the last thing you're aware of, then logan catching you before you fall to the ground.

"c'mon sweets, don't think you're getting away from me that easily."

"wouldn't dream of it logan, but did we win?"

he chuckles, gives you a nod and watches as a smile spreads on your face. "did you like the phoenix?"

he tuts, shaking his head, "like you better."

when you both get back to the future, you and logan settle in together to no one's surprise.

"did you ever know that would happen?" he asks you one day, your body draped over his as his hands massage your thighs.

"i can't see the future, so no." you giggle when he pinches your thigh. "honestly, i thought you'd never warm up to me."

he frowns a deep frown, "what?"

you lean on his shoulder and say, "well you were always broody and grumbly when i was around, like you were waiting for me to screw up or do the same thing she did."

logan's heart pinches a little, "m'sorry princess. i know you're not the same as her. m'sorry." his forehead is pressing into yours now and you smile.

you wiggle your fingers and the lights dim, making logan smile. "i know you are," you kiss his jaw, "do you think you could build a bookshelf from thee wood out in your workshop?"

"you're getting better at deflecting affection," he kisses you square on the mouth. "yeah, i can build you a couple shelves." logan makes no move to get out of bed though- instead he flips you over so you're under him again and squealing.

[irish-urn]

Okay, so this is a dasey question that has been plaguing my mind for quite some time and I feel like you, the brilliant and talented dasey extraordinaire, would be able to give me an adequate answer:

Why is it that in most high school Dasey fanfics (at least the ones I’ve read) do Derek and Casey only spend the night/hang out in Derek’s room? I find it to be an interesting event that seems to repeatedly happen in dasey fanfics and honestly, I think it makes so much sense but I can’t quite figure out why it does. So I was hoping to get your take on that, even though I know you specialize more in post-highschool fics.

Thanks for your amazing writing!

My goodness gracious me. Who spilled the beans on one of my biggest weaknesses: flattery? Who did it?

Oooooh. That *is* a question. Why *do* so many fics have them hang out/spend the night in Derek's room?

Okay. So, first I thought about logistics, but I honestly can't tell and don't know where Derek's room is situated upstairs except that it's next to Casey's. I think Casey's might be closer to the bathroom? Which would likely mean there would be more traffic going past her bedroom: and if that's the case, that might be one of the reasons. People who know the show a lot more than me might have figured out that it's just *safer* for Derek's room to be the private room.

But, since I'm not 100% sure about that, I'll move on to what I do know for sure, and that's Derek. Derek is very possessive about his room. It's his room; we see how hard he fights to keep it. Furthermore, if I remember correctly, Edwin tells us very early on that no one goes in Derek's room without his permission. Casey, obviously completely ignores this rule, BUT the three younger siblings do still have a healthy amount of respect/fear. So I think they would knock. Do they have the same kind of fear of Casey? No. So there is a greater chance of, especially Lizzie, just walking into Casey's room (even though we all know the main intruders are Derek and Casey themselves).

I also can't see a high school Derek being cool about sleeping in Casey's bed. He's spent soooooo much time whining about the way she smells, her perfume, her shampoo, her laundry detergent, her body wash -- to admit otherwise (that he actually loves the way she smells) would be to admit defeat. And I find it unlikely that any version of high school Derek would be comfortable enough to admit those kinds of feelings for Casey, to admit that kind of tenderness. Would a high school Derek admit that he finds her hot and that he likes her? Yeah, if he thought he would win himself a Casey, he just might. But there's a certain amount of vulnerability in sleeping in someone else's room. It's... no longer your territory. And as long as Derek and Casey are in Derek's room, he's still got home turf advantage.

(Never mind that we ALL know that Casey has him wrapped around her finger, but let's allow the boy some dignity)

Now, while we can say that all of that is equally true for Casey, or for any human being, I think we all get the feeling that for Casey to admit her feelings for Derek, to sneak around with him, to make out or have sex with him, would already be the height of vulnerability for her. Our Casey, who narrates the show because she wants to control the narrative, who wants us to know her side of the story before anyone else, who is so deep in denial about her feelings for Derek... If she ever actually admitted it, then she's already been so very, very brave. So for her to then submit enough to agree to Derek's room... Well, whatever. She's already done the most difficult thing she could do; this is minor in comparison.

Furthermore, I think Casey's romantic side would be thrilled to spend in the night in her boyfriend's arms, surrounded by his scent and his heart, and although she would likely make him tidy it up before she spent any significant time in there (and then finish the job to her standards)... I think even that domesticity would charm her.

...So, yeah. I think that's why a lot of writers choose Derek's room, and why we all go along with it. It just fits, don't it?