#enjoy!! let me know your thoughts!!!

[somerandomdudelmao]

Heeeey what's up?

So. Do you maybe want some Transformers content made by me?

Yes? - You can find it here

No? - Understood. Have a good day👍

[pparadiselost]

dressed to kill.

various (hinata shoyo, kageyama tobio, tsukishima kei, kuroo tetsurou) x fem reader haikyuu men and the lingerie/costumes they like to see on you. warning(s): nsfw dividers: cafekitsune. minors do not interact.

HINATA SHOYO + BABYDOLLS

hinata shoyo is not a picky man. 

he’s a great boyfriend, someone who wants you to feel confident in your own skin and show off your own style. he always hypes you up no matter what you’re wearing, and the fact that he’s genuine about every compliment he gives you only adds to how much of a sweet lover he is.

but if there is one singular thing that he would get on his hands and knees to beg you to wear is nothing more than a babydoll lingerie dress.

something about them just has him going wild. it’s like he can’t think straight anymore, his usually quick brain fried into a horny hum of nothingness when he imagines you all dolled up in the sheer material. his rationale goes straight out the window and his cock takes the wheel, throbbing and aching and needing to get his hands all over your body as soon as possible.

maybe it’s how innocent it makes you look, the fabric flaring around your hips and covering the upper part of your thighs, leaving your bare legs to tease his imagination. maybe it’s how the upper half hugs your body so snugly, the thin cloth barely covering your tits and your nipples poking through if he stares hard enough. it’s really all in the balance, making your beauty shine while leaving just enough to have his imagination wandering. 

it’s almost embarrassing how often he’s jerked off to this fantasy. all of his characteristic sunny swagger is gone when he buys you your first dress and asks you to wear it, sounding more like a teenage boy about to lose his virginity rather than your energetic boyfriend. but it’s like a switch flips in his brain the very second you agree, and without a chance for you to reconsider, he throws you down in bed.

he shoves his face right in between your legs, and his mouth goes straight to where he’s been itching to be throughout this whole ordeal. the translucent material of your lingerie drapes over his head like a veil as he presses hungry kisses to your pussy. he swirls the broad of his tongue over your pulsing hole, loving the way you suck in a sharp breath and shudder. he’s going to make sure to do you right, to fuck you right, for indulging him so well.

“fuck- you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now,” he laughs against your cunt, sounding like a man starved. he might as well be, with how messily he’s eating you out. he smacks his lips, the wet sound of your juices coating his tongue and lips echoing throughout your shared bedroom. “shit- you’re fucking perfect… my pretty girl, being so good for me.”

you unconsciously clench your thighs around his head when he sucks on your clit. heat shoots all throughout your belly, and you’re sure you’re going to ruin the sheets with how much your pussy’s leaking. he takes turns toying with your puffy clit and teasing the outline of your hole until you’re begging incoherently for him to just do something to you already. your pussy can’t take being teased like this.

“fuck me! please fuck me, shoyo-,” you’re almost sobbing, the hem of your babydoll scrunched up in shoyo’s hands as he grips at your thighs to keep them pried apart. it leaves your exposed cunt at his complete mercy, and even thinking about that fact on its own has your walls throbbing and clenching painfully on itself. “anything- your tongue, fingers, cock- anything! please- need you inside me so bad, sho…”

“don’t worry.” he presses a quick kiss to your clit, the shaky moan you reward with him like honey to his ears. “i’ll get there. but fuck… you look so pretty… i want to take my time with you.”

you’re sure he’s going to leave bruises on your thighs from how hard he’s gripping you, his calloused fingers digging into your soft flesh. but everything about him is so arousing, and you’re equally as drunk off of him as he is to you. shoyo thinks he’s died and gone to whatever version of heaven there might be. placebo effect be damned, he swears on his life that your pussy tastes so much sweeter whenever he eats you out while you’re wearing your dress.

“got yourself all pretty for me, didn’t you? you knew that i would like this, that i’d want to fuck you senseless after seeing you in it. was that your plan from the start?” hinata asks breathlessly. he swallows back more of your slick, and his cock keens inside of his pants, his tip sticky and swollen and wanting literally any form of attention. but he can push that aside for now. now, he wants to enjoy the sight laid out before him, of your already fucked out face and your body covered in the delicate lace and sheer fabric he’s dreamt of, legs spread out the way he likes it and pussy drooling for no one but him. 

knowing that you put this on for him, that you dressed up for him, that you wanted to look good for him makes his dick so hard that it hurts. he promises to himself that he’s going to buy out some poor lingerie store’s entire stock just to see you in different colors and materials, and he’s going to fuck your brains out in each and every single one of them until you’re sick of even the letter ‘b’ in babydoll. 

“gonna make you cum on my tongue, yeah? love making you fall apart on my mouth,” he breathes against your cunt. he chuckles when he can feel you clenching up around his tongue, flicking at your hole and making your toes curl. “gonna fuck you on my cock after that then, doll. that sound good to you? gonna make you cum and squirt so you know just how badly all of this gets to me.”

this is going to become a bad habit of his, more addictive than anything else he could imagine, only making his obsession with everything that has to do with you so much worse.

KAGEYAMA TOBIO + ANYTHING WITH WHITE LACE

as much as kageyama tobio hates to admit it, he undeniably has a bit of a romantic streak. his love for volleyball, his dedication to bettering himself, his constant search for the one that continues to challenge him to unseen heights: it all points to the unending ache in his heart that searches for someone to be by his side.

only a part of that desire gets quenched when he falls for you. you were his first, and he’s determined to make you his last. it’s only logical, in his mind, that seeing you in white is enough to awaken something like a sleeper agent inside of him. it makes you think of the day you’ll be decked from head to toe in a beautiful white dress and a lacy white veil, and he’ll stare at you as if he’s falling in love all over again, barely holding back his tears as he waits for you to meet him at the altar.

it’s not his fault that he wants to make that dream a reality so badly. you can feel the way kageyama stiffens and struggles to meet your eyes whenever you wear white around him, be it anything from a simple pajama t-shirt to something more formal. it drives him wild, and it makes him want to eat you up, to pin you down and drink up the sight of you in that pretty color, to let whatever restraint left inside of him go completely.

it takes him a surprisingly long time for him to actually bring the idea of lingerie to you. it becomes a bit of a guilty secret of his. he buys all sorts of pretty, lacy white bras, crotchless panties, and matching sets, only to get shy and hide it away in his closet. it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, but he wonders if he’s ramping things up too quickly, if his love might become smothering to you.

but if anything, you’re worse than he is. you’re more than happy to don whatever piece he sheepishly offers up to you, and seeing you baring yourself up to him in the lingerie he could only fantasize about makes his throat close up. blood rushes to his cock, hardening almost too quickly for him to process, and his dick feels like it’s about to explode. he whines when you press up against him and coo something sweetly towards him. your hands rub against the bulge in his pants as you press your clothed tits against his chest, his cock twitches painfully when he notices the way the lace trim moves with the plush flesh.

it’s bad. he begs you to ride him, to take his cock so he can see your entire body covered in the lacy material that mimics bridalwear so temptingly. he likes hooking his fingers around the waistline of your panties just to feel the lace ride against his skin.

“so pretty- looks so good on you-,” he slurs as you buck your hips. you grin down at him, loving how fucked out and pussy drunk he looks, the way he cries out whenever you slide down his length and let his cock breach your tight hole. “gonna cum just from staring at you… fuck, you’re so fucking tight…!”

“do you like how i look?” you reach for his wrists, and kageyama feels like he’s going to die when you glide his large, calloused palms over the curve of your hips. he gropes at your figure, moaning loudly when he can feel the white fabric moving underneath his knuckles. you smile down at him, and you make sure to bounce your tits in his face to give your boyfriend a good show. “you wanted me to wear this for you, didn’t you?”

he nods frantically. his balls are straining against your ass, and your pussy won’t quit clenching up around him. he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he didn’t think you would take his thinly veiled fetish and turn it immediately against him. “you look good- look so, so good- wanna cum inside you…”

“yeah?” you repeat. you drag his hands up to your breasts, the white lace barely covering your hardened nipples. you groan his name when he touches you, his fingers pinching at your nipples and desperately squeezing at your tits. “you wanna cum inside of me while i’m wearing this? is that why you’re so hard right now? your cock’s so hard inside of me, tobio… feels so good when i ride it.”

he clenches his eyes shut at your praise, and satisfaction stirs deep inside of you when his cock twitches in your pussy. you speed up your pace a little bit, and his moans grow high-pitched, his hands gripping onto your chest to ground himself to no avail. heat blooms all over his body, and he can’t hold on much longer. your body feels too good. your pussy’s melting his dick, squeezing him into utter submission. knowing that you’re more than willing to let his lovesick fantasies play out makes him want to fuck his cock so deep and hard into you, to stuff his cum all up into your womb until it leaks out of you and drips down your thighs into a sticky mess.  

you click your tongue down at him. “eyes open, tobio. you’re the one that wanted to see me in this lingerie�� don’t tell me that you’re chickening out now.”

“don’t- don’t tease me-,” he pants, the ragged edge in his voice has the arousal in your gut churning. he glares up at you, and the hunger and barely concealed restraint in his eyes are almost palpable. 

his hands drop from your chest down to your hips. he drags your hips up his swollen length and then forces you all the way down, snapping his hips up so that his whole, thick cock plows its way into you. red, hot electric pleasure shoots up your spine, and he manages to rip a strangled cry of his name out of you.

“is this what you wanted?” kageyama hisses. “i can play this game with you. don’t blame me if i end up knocking you up after all of this.” 

TSUKISHIMA KEI + MAID COSTUMES

despite his uptight, holier-than-thou attitude he displays at times, tsukishima kei can’t deny the simpler pleasures of seeing his pretty girlfriend dressed up in a frilly maid costume with a short, short skirt. he is just a man, at the end of the day, and something about coming home after a long shift at the museum to see you greet him in the cute costume with your hair and makeup all done for him makes his body flush. 

you’re so eager to shower him with attention, to help him unwind, to call him “sir” and “master kei” in that singsong voice of yours, and you prancing around in front of him and accidentally flashing him your dainty panties whenever the skirt bounces up too high is only the beginning.

part of him wants to shove the tiny skirt up to your waist and bending you over on the nearest surface to fuck you out on his cock, hearing you choke out his name just so he can shove his fingers into your mouth and scold you about not using the proper honorifics with him. another part of him wants to take his time with you, to feel you shudder as he slowly drags his lithe fingers up your thighs, unwrapping you like his own personal present, and making you suck him off while still fully dressed all so he can cum on your costume and hear you squeal about the mess he’s making. 

it’s not like he’s pressed for time now that he’s done with work. there’s no need to pick between the two equally tempting options when he can just do both with you.

“what a messy maid i’ve got here… you’re drooling all over me. can’t take it?” a big hand tugs at your hair, surprisingly gentle despite the harsh edge to his words. you’re struggling to fit more of tsukishima’s long cock into your mouth without using your hands, tied behind your back with a white bow that matches the rest of the decorations on your maid costume. 

you swallow around him. your mouth feels so full with his length, his girth already making you struggle to wrap your lips around him fully. you like it though, you like testing your limits like this, the warm tightness of your mouth and throat serving to pleasure tsukishima the best you can. after all, a maid’s job is to live for whatever her master wants, isn’t it?

you gag slightly on his dick when tsukishima tries to push you down a bit deeper. saliva dots the edges of your lips and coats his throbbing length. you mimic the motion of sex the best you can, bobbing your head up and down as much of him as you can possibly take. you flutter your eyelashes up at him sweetly, despite the fact that you’re blowing him off and looking more like a pornstar than you are a truly innocent maid. but it’s you, and that’s what matters more than anything else to tsukishima. 

“there’s a good girl…,” he coos down at you, and the loose smirk hanging off of his lips makes your pussy throb. it’s always hard to tell when he’s genuinely praising you versus when he’s only pretending to, but it turns you on so badly to know that he’s the one in control of everything. you slobber shamelessly around him as you daydream about how good it would feel to take his thick cock inside of your pussy. he would stretch you out so good, and just the thought of cumming and creaming on his dick makes you drool that much harder around him, like a dog to a bone.

he keeps twitching and pulsing inside of your mouth, and you know he’s close from how he’s gripping your hair and his low groans. you want it. you want him to cum inside of your mouth, and you want to swallow it all. but he has other plans in mind, and despite how expertly you swirl your tongue around his sensitive head and moan at the salty taste of his pre-cum spreading all over the inside of your cheeks and in the back of your throat, tsukishima refuses to give you the satisfaction of the heady taste of his semen flooding your mouth. 

he yanks himself out of your mouth, and you whine, your throat and mouth deprived of him. you stick your tongue out, feeling like a kid with their toy stolen away, and you wiggle your hips unconsciously, arousal dripping from between your thighs and surely making a mess out of your thin panties. 

“ah, ah, not so quick,” the blond laughs down at you breathlessly. you watch with deprived and enchanted eyes as he finishes himself off, denying yourself even the pleasure of drinking his cum, and you let out a pathetic whimper when he cums on you instead. his hot cum burns your skin, hot and sticky and heavy, and it goes all over your face, your skimpily clothed chest, into your hair, and enough to flood your senses. 

you lick at your lips, the salty taste not quite enough to satisfy you completely. you need more, you want all of it inside your pussy, you’re not going to be happy with being teased and having your prize dangled in front of your eyes tantalizingly. tsukishima knows this, and he knows that a good maid should never get all needy in front of her master.

he grips your face as you try to wipe and collect his cum to lick off of your fingers. you look like a disaster, your costume now askew and his cum staining so much of your body. 

“did you actually think you deserve my cum, sweetheart?” he asks, eyes narrowing slightly into a dark sneer. you barely suppress a shudder as his cock slowly hardens again, and it might just be your imagination but it looks thicker, longer, harder than it was mere minutes ago. he smiles mockingly at you as if he can detect your anticipation mixed with fear. “my messy maid… if you want it that badly, you’re going to have to work a little bit harder for it.”

KUROO TETSUROU + PLAYBOY BUNNY

kuroo tetsurou wasn’t always the silver-tongued, handsome man he is today. people always laugh when he recounts his younger days, especially when he was nothing more than a nerdy high schooler with horrible bedhead, an affinity for chemistry, and an incessant love for his school’s volleyball team. he doesn’t have too much trouble garnering attention nowadays, but there was a point in his life when all he had to quell his own confusing teenager hormones was a pile of trusty playboy magazines stashed discreetly underneath his bed. 

it makes his cheeks prickle with embarrassment to think too long about the scantily dressed women in all of the pictures and pin-ups, worn out after years of use, but he’d be lying if he said seeing the models dressed up in the signature bunny custom didn’t do something to his adolescent mind. even though it’s so lewd, there’s something classy about the way the costume accentuates the figure and leaves just enough covered for the imagination.

it’s no wonder that that became his first pick when the idea of dressing up for him came up. and god, the sight of you shyly approaching him in the same costume that became such a staple in his heart makes him want to eat you up whole. nothing you do can cover yourself from his hawk-like eyes, and seeing you squirm and trying to hide under your hands or arms makes him want to turn you into a mess where you can’t hide any part of yourself from him.

“mmm… it fits you perfectly, doll,” a low voice rasps from behind you. kuroo’s thick thighs make the perfect seat for you, and your stomach does a flip when you can feel the tent in his pants rubbing up against your ass. the leather of the costume’s main piece does wonders to your body. they push up your tits perfectly, and that coupled with a pair of sensual black stockings, red bottom heels (which kuroo generously paid for which earned him a long lecture from you after you saw the price tag), and the cutest little bunny tail on your ass makes you the vision of a wet dream come true. 

he grips your hips, big hands feeling up the curves of your waist and ass. he rocks you back and forth on his bulge, and you’re rewarded with a groan from somewhere deep in his throat when he feels the electric sparks of having his favorite girl grinding against his erection. you pick up the rhythm, rocking your hips against him, the act so desperate and so carnal despite the layers of clothing between the two of you.

“you have- hah- no fucking clue how long i’ve imagined you like this-,” kuroo chuckles. his big palms go from your waist up to your chest, and your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his calloused fingers hover over your tits. goosebumps dot your skin as he starts to slowly grope your chest, earning you yet another provocative moan from him when he keeps rutting into the soft flesh of your ass.

you bite down on your bottom lip, grinding down on him to stimulate your clit. it feels good, the dull blooms of pleasure doing wonders for the heat creeping all over your body. the idea of cumming untouched like this makes your head spin, and you want it more than anything else. you want your hole to become a leaking, cock-hungry mess all from dressing up in a lewd bunny costume for kuroo and from humping into each other like animals in heat. you know it’s going to make being fucked out his cock eventually feel that much better. 

“please, tetsu-,” you whine, your nails digging into his forearms. your voice is high strung and strained, whiny and girly just the way he likes it best. “wanna cum- wanna cum for you… you feel so big already… wanna take your cock inside me too…!”

“yeah? you want that too? keep talking like that, and i’ll fucking lose it for real…,” he grunts. you yelp when he bites down on your shoulder, sharp teeth marking up your unmarked skin and the sudden sting has your cunt clenching up painfully. the thrums of arousal thrashing in your core are all your mind can grip onto, and the shape of kuroo’s cock straining against his pants and grinding into your swollen clit makes your whole body feel weak.

you’re glad kuroo’s enjoying this so much, that he can prop your body up the way he wants you to. he’s so strong even in the midst of this sex-induced haze, and knowing that he has nothing but this kind of insane desire for you makes you feel almost giddy. it’s nice; it’s powerful to know that you have this effect on him. 

“gonna cum for me, bunny? while you’re all dressed up and pretty in my lap?” kuroo laughs. you nod, the faux ears atop your head threatening to go askew. his hands massage at your chest, every part of your body egging him on constantly. he kisses over the bite marks he left on you, the switch between loving appreciation and starved lust telling you everything you need to know about how this whole thing with him is going to end.

it’s a no-brainer that he thinks you look absolutely ravishing in his favorite outfit, but he swears that the costume is gonna look even better when it’s all crumpled on the floor, your naked body bared all for him. you’re going to look so cute, so innocent, and so adorable bouncing in his lap as he pinches your nipples from behind, that teasing tone of his pushing you towards an unending series of orgasms. kuroo can’t wait to feel you fall apart in his arms, to feel your helpless pussy fucked out on his cock. 

“that’s my girl,” he praises you, voice hushed and sultry. “my pretty, obedient bunny. cum all you want. gonna make sure that’s all you do for the next little while…”

if you enjoyed my writing and would like to show appreciation, you can do so by donating to these vetted gofundmes to help families!

[sasanka-27]

“You have to be more careful Eddie.” Click for Part2

[luck-of-the-drawings]

EDYN TIDESTRIDER, CHALLENGER OF THE UNDERSEA, RIVAL OF THE DEEP. WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOUR BROTHER WAS CHOSEN TO BE A WEAPON OF THE GODS? HOW WILL YOU UNDO WHAT THEY HAVE DONE TO HIM?

[neko-loogi]

Here's my redesign for Husk!

So I decided to draw redesigns for Hazbin Hotel characters! I'm starting off with Husk because to me he's one of the most detailed characters. For his design, I decided to simplify it, because holy hell, Husk has way too much detail- it's insane.

I made his fur slightly darker because according to Viv, Husk is black (or at least implied), but you wouldn't fucking know that because she's terrible at representing certain groups of people. I was originally going to remove the wings entirely, but if I did, he would totally look like a furry OC, so I kept the wings, except I took away all the details and made them small. Basically his wings are for decoration.

I also made him look more like a grumpy old cat (because again, according to Viv, Husk is supposed to be in his 60's or 70's.) And finally I made him chubby because its supposed to represent a beer gut lmao-

[ghastlyaffairs]

for something as trivial and simple those feelings sure are hard to get rid of

also made a gif a version for fun + alt version with no tears under the cut

the gif is in very low resolution...this is a feature (i could make it bigger but that would require saving each frame individually and than glueing it all together. also i feel like low resolution suits it better. aesthetically and fits the mood)

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[rebo-chan]

Hello, everyone. To today's episode of Tumblr user Rebo-chan loses her mind and assigns each and every Vongola guardian a flower that I have painstakingly searched high and low for (I wish I was being dramatic, I got too invested in this as I worked on it). Is this done in a state of mania? Perhaps, but I am diseased by COVID-19 as we speak and this is what I will do with the time I am meant to be resting with. Nonetheless we must get started. Content under the cut, because I can NEVER make a short post. It's against my core beliefs clearly.

Sawada Tsunayoshi:

The European Orange Lily (Lilium bulbiferum)

My reasoning for this starts with the fact that the "lily" itself has a lot of different meanings, but the important aspect of the lily is that its considered the spring flower and represents often meanings of renewal and rebirth. The very messaging for our sweet boy, a life restarted after he meets his mentor. An orange lily specifically has meanings dipped into warmth, joy, passion (In regards to his devotion to those he loves), 'welcoming' to new opportunities in your life (lol), and most importantly - confidence and pride. Something that he grows to be over the course of his renewal, pride in his friends. Confidence in his strength to protect them. KHR is a story about a nobody becoming somebody strong enough to protect them, even and especially when they falter themselves. It should also be noted that in Hanakotoba (Japanese flower language), orange lilies represent 'revenge and hatred'. Which I think is a factor of Tsuna we can't ignore, as sweet as he is, TYL Tsuna's actions become darker the more you think about them. Tsuna can and has killed when a villain has overstepped too far, and never forget that he just wanted to know "who" Yamamoto's attacker was. For no reason, just to look at him, maybe shake his hand lol. Fr though, that boy's made of fire, both to keep his loved ones warm and to burn their enemies. I think the orange lily fits him nicely.

Also yes, I'll do my best to color-code these flowers~

Gokudera Hayato:

A Red Fressia

So, its quite hard actually to find any sort of 'red' flowers that aren't about some sort of romantic-esque devotion. Just being a red flower inherently puts you in that category of 'passion, love, marriage' meanings when it comes to flowers. It's a real struggle, but luckily he's our only red character amongst the Vongola kids. Okay, so the Freesia is represented by the concept of friendship and ultimate trust. I think it was easier for me to find a flower that represents devotion or duty and tack it on to Gokudera, but I think that's just looking at him on the surface. The story behind the freesia is that the botanist who found them in South Africa decided to name it after his friend as a symbol of their friendship. Very lovely :)<3 For all of Gokudera's dutiful affection for Tsuna, a lot of it is based on the fact that Tsuna was his first friend and the person who he trusted first. His eventual character growth and bonding with the other guardians came as he allowed himself to trust them, when he realized that his 'duty' that he believed to be absolute was above his bonds. Rather, it's his bonds that strengthen his resolve to be the perfect right hand man. Due to the intense representation of friendship and trust, freesias are given to a loved one to represent commitment to them, not unlike Gokudera's commitment to Tsuna and therefore the Vongola family unit. It should also be noted that in Hanakotoba, freesias also have a negative meaning which is childishness and immaturity which I do feel is something that Gokudera has to work through in order to become the best version of himself and has done quite well at by the end of the series. He's our little friendship blossom :)<3 Yamamoto Takeshi: Himalayan Blue Poppy

Let me start this by complaining that 'blue' flowers are so fucking rare, it took me forever to find something matched and was also color-coded with Yamamoto, that didn't dip into too indigo, because of the rarity of a nicely blue flower. To start, blue as a color has all those lovely Yamamoto vibes of being calming, easy on the mind, tranquility, all that beautiful stuff we know Yamamoto to be. (It's almost like Amano color-coded her characters guys..) Poppies themselves got a bit of cultural significance in the West, being the flowers given to WW1 soldiers after they'd passed as a way of remembrance. They're also known for growing in desolate war-torn areas, just a patch of poppies as well as having many soldiers buried with a poppy with them in honor. With that the poppy itself has themes of death, honor, lessons, tradition and remembrance. With Yamamoto’s connection to the Poppy flower, Yamamoto himself is..pretty death-coded. HEAR ME OUT. HEAR !! ME OUT!!!! Varia arc, Squalo ‘dies’ against Yamamoto. Future arc, Tsuyoshi is killed for Yamamoto being involved with the Vongola, Shimon with Yamamoto himself getting nearly killed and then that big moment where he offers to kill Daemon in retaliation for what was done to Kaoru. While not canon as well, the primo fillers are about Yamamoto dealing with the fact he DIDNT kill daisy and how he felt he had to be less easy-natured and actually go for the kills from now on. And of course, his attempt during daily life when he could not do what he loved anymore. He’s VERY death-coded y’all. But the poppy itself isn’t just some omen of death, but the lessons one can gather from those who have passed. Yamamoto’s own battle style is about taking the lessons of those before him who carried Shigure Soen Ryu and then growing upon that to carve a new and improved future for himself and those he cares about. He adapts to their lessons, what Squalo and Tsuyoshi have to teach him. On the fly, continuing the Shigure legacy and creating more moves to eventually pass on to the one that succeeds him. In general, he carries any lessons he has up until the end of the series and tries to never make the same mistake again. Whether that’s his lessons against the Mists he’s battled, his loss against Squalo for not having a proper sword style, and though he doesn’t get a chance against Gamma again, he’s always understood the importance of teamwork. That being said, he’s not just a poppy. He’s a Himalayan Blue Poppy. You see the himalayan blue poppy has a different meaning outside that of the ones that the other poppies do. With its rarity, it also represents success, potential, pursuit of dreams, and possibility.  Yamamoto is the Vongola family’s prodigy, a natural born hitman, the star baseball player on his team. Stuck at a crossroads between his dream and being able to be in a position to protect the ones he loves. An impossibly difficult choice to make, yet Yamamoto handles it with ease. He just won’t choose! He’ll do both! Which fights very nicely with the Hanakatoba meaning of the poppy. “Fun-loving” “A reminder to remember happiness.” Along with general blue color meanings of tranquility, that is Yamamoto to his core, I believe. When things get their worst, he is there to remind everyone that it is never as bad as it feels. To wash away the blood spilled, that is the role of the Vongola Rain Guardian. His crossroad isn’t an issue to him, because that’s not what he fights for! He fights to make things easier for everyone, so they may remember happiness. That sort of thing doesn’t exactly need him to make a choice on his path. Now, does it? If he’s forced to choose, he will just carve out new possibilities for himself and the ones that he loves with the lessons he’s learnt. 

Lambo Bovino: Green Envy Zinnia

Contrary to the title, the green envy zinnia has nothing to do with envy. Quite the opposite, actually. The zinnia itself represents endurance (HEAR. ME. OUT LOL), lasting affection, joy, and various other things. So, the zinnia is super fucking tough, again hear me OUTTTT. They bloom all the way from springtime to autumn, something pretty unheard of from flowers which gave them their meaning. A green envy Zinnia specifically represents growth or a journey. Wishes of a healthy and successful growth. And I believe that is the hope for Lambo, as he progresses through the series. He is quite literally a child, both himself and TYL. But that’s just the thing for him, to the one that chose the guardians (Iemitsu, it’s very implied that it was Iemitsu), Lambo is an INVESTMENT. And a correct one if twenty years old Lambo was anything to go by. Not only that, the zinnia represents a joyous endurance. This doesn’t have to be painful for him, and it’s not as he’s allowed to both be a kid in Tsuna’s care while also holding on tight when told to stay out of the fight. (“You have to take the younger me wherever you go, he wants to go with you.”). And as a bit of an angsty little hehe on my part, the zinnia also represents missing those who have passed, that you remember someone and love them even now that they’re not with you. (“Seeing you all again, I thought the day would never happen. It’s making me emotional.”) Honestly, judging by how Lambo fights when he gets the opportunity to properly do it, he just isn’t weak. Destroying Kikyo’s box animal, fighting against Ooyama, and of course against Levi too. In Hanakotoba, the Zinnia represents loyalty. He is their youngest blossom, enjoying being around the one he considers a brother with hidden potentials to grow into someone with the ability to be Vongola’s shield. If the ones he loves ever make it to see that sight, of course. 

Ryohei Sasagawa: Yarrow (Achillea millefolium) 

Okay, so the yarrow is first of all a funky flower. If you’ve never seen OTHER colors of the yarrow flower, I implore you to google it. Especially the red ones? Why are you so pretty? Lucky enough for this flower (and me I’m starting to lose my mind here, this was a much bigger task than I thought it would be) the different colors don’t change the meaning of the flower here which is neat. It also unfortunately has no hanakotoba meaning either. So, anyway. The yarrow. It represents a warrior’s bravery, protection, and healing. The healing comes from the fact that its a commonly used herb for bruises, cuts, and sprains. There’s also huge folklore around it which affects its scientific name, as Achilles used yarrow to take care of the men he was in charge of. This flower was also used as a ward against evil, where people would hang this outside of their homes in order to protect them from evil getting inside. A superstition developed around this leading to Yarrow to be named the devil’s nettle to refer to the belief that the devil would come around and shake the yarrow that people hung up due to wanting to curse them. This flower also represents strong everlasting love, to the point where a little tradition propped up where people would shove this flower up their nostrils whenever they had a nosebleed so if they dreamt about their crush it meant that they liked them back lol. Yall there was so much rich lore on this flower, it’s super neat. More than I could fit in here. Anyway, I’m sure yall see the connection with Ryohei acting as the group older brother, being the motivating factor for them. He was the first to go up during Varia arc and set the tone for the rest of the battles, that the Vongola would win. Last to show up during future, representing that all of them had finally been reunited. A draw against Aoba, again the very first battle, almost symbolizing HOW shimon would end. He’s the strength in their arms, acting as the last person to leave in future arc until they were ready to go. Taught them and helped lead them to make decisions during that arc. It’s almost his duty to protect the younger ones, even getting up on Hibari’s case in the fillers for not helping out his younger classmen. We can’t even dismiss the way he would prefer to shield Kyoko from everything that they go through, and getting aggressive with Tsuna when Tsuna broke something he thought both of them saw eye to eye on.  Not much rattles him, honestly if you pay attention to his scenes, only getting the most nervous and agitated TRULY when he fears he won’t be able to protect someone (Asking Tsuna how Kyoko reacted to the news, Tozaru getting on his case about Lambo coming to the battle) Otherwise, he’s his happy loud confident self ready to tackle on anything for the sake of the family. Destroying the misfortune that attacks the family with their own body, the yarrow represents that duty well. For every bruise the younger one gets, Ryohei has the ability to heal it. For every fear, Ryohei tackles it first. Acting as a ward and protector for his family. Hibari Kyoya

Clematis (Etoile Violette)

Clematis is a climbing flower, to start with. One of those flowers that grow along walls and vines. It’s a very adaptable flower, able to work with various environments and thrive amongst them. They’re known as the traveler’s joy, meant to wish travelers good luck and act as protection to those who pass by them. While also having a more negative reputation, having “killed” other plants by outcompeting them considered having done the devil’s work. (The plant is actually considered invasive aha oops) The clematis though, itself represents mental fortitude, cleverness, and the ability to find hope in perilous situations. Hibari himself, I mean just that back and forth reputation is just him, no? Acting as Namimori’s protector, keeping a watchful eye on the town while also being utterly terrifying for Namimori students and almost overwhelming to those competing with him. (Dino will only find escape from Hibari in death, Mukuro is the same) But, he is also undoubtedly Vongola’s wall. Similar to Ryohei, not once throughout the series really and truly faltering. The clematis itself with its representation in mental fortitude can be given to someone when they need mental strength. I think the best way to represent this is directing you to that moment in Shimon arc when Tsuna, while not physical beaten, had been mentally tormented by everything that had happened and Hibari came to his battle to Adel. A simple, but strong “Little animal, your face right now is dull. Watch my fight.” It’s in that fight Tsuna gets his mental strength back, being given a hint to answer the question he’s been stressing and faltering over. Then there’s future arc, having been the only one TYL Tsuna trusted with the plan. Kokuyo Arc, Gokudera seeing an already defeated Hibari and taking him to the battle. Varia arc, the gang realizing that if Hibari is fighting next then they may have already won it and refusing to succumb to the poison in the sky battle. Rainbow arc, Tsuna considering them in that list of people he “just expects to help him.” He has the ability to be their hope, to be another factor of their strength. Where Ryohei is holding them up on the physical aspect, Hibari is absolutely their mental strength. (Isn’t it charming that the two eldest are the pillars of their group? I think it is). Also, in Hanakotoba, the clematis represents moral beauty and order. And that’s just the kinda man who could run something like the discipline committee, isn’t? The special thing, finally is that the etoile violette represents a sense of freedom from troubles. A free man, unchained himself and choosing to help those younger than him. Sometimes for the thrill of a battle, sometimes to actually help them with the reputation of a devil. Unpredictable, but still trusted.  It’s the sky that allows the clouds to roam freely, but even someday that sky will be beaten to death. 

Chrome Dokuro

Lupine (Blue Bonnet)

The Lupine flower is before anything else, a second chance at life. A recovery from one’s trauma and the admiration that comes from that. Its gratitude and kindness put into one. There’s a legend around the lupine flower about a land full of drought where Native Americans had believed would be saved by selflessness and yet no one had come forward to do anything, until a young girl came forward and offered the last of her possessions. The rain came to fall at her sacrifice, and hundreds of lupines had blossomed from the ground saving the tribe from drought and hunger as the seeds of the Lupine could be harvested to be eaten. The Lupine represents that the world will always give back if you are willing to help. Chrome, from her introduction, is told to be a girl who has nothing. With two parents who want nothing to do with her and no friends by her side. She runs forward to save a kitten and is gravely injured. With neither of her parents willing to help her, Chrome wonders if she is going to die here but is offered a deal by Mukuro. It’s here that Chrome is offered her second chance and she spends the whole series trying to return the favor to Mukuro. All while healing from her own trauma, the type of trauma that “no one could care about her”, as she is offered food and bonds from Tsuna, Kyoko, Haru, I-pin, Bianchi, Hibari, and so many others. It's in her second chance that she gets to experience what life truly had to offer her, as thank you for her continued selflessness. It’s that gratitude that she represents and the never-ending desire to give when she doesn’t accept Mukuro’s assistance anymore with her organs because she can no longer give him anything now that he’s out of Vindice Prison. She resolves that she will become someone who can protect the people she and Mukuro like. Her confidence isn’t perfect and she falters quite a bit, not believing that her powers are as great as those around her. But, that’s okay, because her goodness has brought her to people who have got her back until she can figure herself out. She has Mammon to correct her when her illusions are seen through that they are well made, but she’s just dealing with professionals and that’s why they’re seen through. There’s Tsuna who relies on her blindly, never doubting her strength to protect them as he asks her to act as defense during Shimon arc and protect Enma from his attack. Alongside with Fran, she is trusted to protect Yamamoto and Gokudera in the final battle against Vindice and taken with Tsuna against Jaegar. She has a lot of space to continue growing, but Lupin also represents voracity and happiness in Hanakotoba. She has her second chance to learn all about that, or as Mukuro put it to her, “An ending is merely the beginning of another cycle.”

Rokudo Mukuro

Aconitum (Wolfsbane)

Wolfsbane is also referred to as Monkshood. This is another one with pretty rich lore with its connection to werewolves. It’s referred to as “queens of the poisons” and has a pretty negative message to it on the outside. First of all, this thing’s poison? TOUGH AS HELL. Delirium, frothing at the mouth, vision impairment, and of course the classic coma<3 It’s got an uncanny resemblance to what rabies actually looks like. Fun, right? Okay, fr though onto its meaning. Wolfsbane is an omen that danger is nearby, not unlike the unnerving feeling Tsuna gets whenever he senses Mukuro nearby. Said to have come from Hell itself, the saliva that has dripped down from Cerberus himself. Not unlike our sweet boy. But, being an omen does not always represent something bad. Is he bringing the danger to you, or is he warning you of the true danger that lies past him? It’s a little bit of both. Aconitum represents concealed wisdom and caution in decision-making. But it also DOES represent protection, a proper and true warning of the dangers of the wild. That beauty does not always mean safe. For his twisted sense of vengeance and believing that taking over the world is the only way to destroy it for the sake of what was done to him, he isn’t necessarily wrong for being enraged about what happened to him. Yet, despite his hate, he doesn’t drag those who he cares about further down into it than he has to. He sends Ken and Chikusa away when they are going to get caught, he never uses Chrome for anything besides as a vessel to help her, and he says during Rainbow arc that if he forced Fran to continue past his limits he’d be no better than those nasty adults of his past. Aconitum balances sweetly between light and darkness, similar to Mukuro. He won’t admit it, but he cares for those amongst the Vongola. He infiltrates the Millefiore and sends the Vongola information after Tsuna’s death, he helps Chrome form a barrier around Enma so he could be safe from Tsuna’s X-Burner. And, of course he teams up with Vongola’s team during the rainbow arc. These are undoubtedly kind actions,  but when Tsuna gets angry at Mukuro during Rainbow claiming that he didn’t believe that Mukuro was the type to abandon his allies, Mukuro says that that was just his idea of him. Even though it was Chrome ultimately rejecting him, he instead pretended that he really was some big bad heartless person. Definitely, Mukuro is no angel, but also he’s no demon either. He’s.. just a human at the end. The aconitum’s dance with both light and dark, a flower that tries to warn, can be read both good and bad depending on how you look at it. His rejection of his ‘official’ position as part of the Mafia, yet acting as the Vongola Mist Guardian when their goals align. He’s as confusing as the duty he embodies, but he succeeds nonetheless in ensuring the family is untouchable in his deceptions. After all, the best way to fool your enemies is to fool your allies first.

[rainbowchaox]

Analysis of Pissa So Far.

This is a essay looking at our favorite death dads and how their relationship changed and their different nuances from to start to most recent. This will primarily look at the major three times we had Phil and Missa interact from the start with being paired for the eggs to recently the Mexican Independence Party. So bare with me and come with me down memory lane.

I rewatched day 1 of the pairing up of pissa to mainly cope with CERTAIN lore that happened recently. And yes it’s as fluffy and cute as I remembered. But let’s start at the beginning. Before the pairing up Missa and Phil knew of each other casually like acquaintances. In real life along with in general their characters/cubitos. (Again major thanks for the server in general bringing all these wonderful creators together.) Anyways the first time Phil met Missa was when he jumped off the wall and gave them food. I like to imagine missa had a non-serious crush on the man. But they didn’t really interact. And it’s fair to understand why.

But then the egg event happened. Which honestly in my opinion was the best event to bring the Spanish and English sides together organically. And looking back now it WORKED. So back on track everyone goes to the adoption center and like most Qsmp events it’s total chaos. Phil chooses his ticket and when I rewatched it Missa literally like spammed clicked it to break it and get Phil. Atleast that is what it looks like to me. So we already have the seeds of simp Missa from the very start. Also can we all take a break and just realize they both got tickets with D? And literally they are Deathduo? The more I rewatch the pairing lottery the more I think it was rigged by the admins and not actually by chance. Every duo either had similar humor or charm.

Immediately Phil and Missa find out they both have D. And it’s casual no romantic undertones the cubitos are still getting to know each other. But Missa being a sweetheart immediately is like you can choose whatever egg. And I think this is when Phil starts to soften and gets majorly endeared towards the clumsy reaper. Like not a crush. Not love. But the seeds of the adoration and love we see from Phil down the road. The fact of the matter Phil let Missa choose Chayanne name. The fact literally the newly formed death family was being fluffy and saying chayanne will be the best egg while literally everyone was screaming in the background. Its the main thing that would later define the dynamic of the ship. The gentle understanding and teamwork. That would later be a staple whether you ship them platonically or romantically.

And chayanne is the best way to show why pissa was meant to always work. Chayanne personality and hobbies all came from his two dads (Literally the reason chayanne was interested in cooking so much was because Missa taught him to cook). And like Phil once he was thrust into parenthood with Missa immediately found him endeared by his assigned husband? The amount of times he laughed because of Missa. Another theme so important to why pissa works so well.

Missa is Philzas calm balm. He relaxes Phil so much. And that’s so rare for that to happen. So of course a hour or so in taking care of their son. Phil visibly softens and gets endeared to the man. Phil immediately starts worrying about missa when he left. Missa may have fallen first but Phil fell harder. Like more time Phil spends with Missa the more comfortable and at ease he gets. Missa fully was like I have the best husband ever let me casually call you pet names.

Not to mention two popular scenes burned into the minds of fans. The moment when Mariana called Phil my love and tried to steal him. And Phil being Phil immediately was I’m okay with my partner thank you very much. And both Missa and Phil cuddled close. I still think Missa fell day 1 but Phil was quickly getting a crush on his assigned husband. Secondly Phil literally invited Missa to bed.

Their dynamic was one of like relaxation of trust and just both trying their best for Chayanne. They easily slid into a cute dynamic as both got endeared to the others. And also in day 1 Phil never said platonic it’s only after day 1 he started using that. And only when he wasn’t with Missa. He is a repressed romantic guy struggling with a crush. Not to mention the crows practically grew so attached to Missa it was insane to see.

Anyways like most couples they had to both take care of chayanne until Missa canonically got kidnapped by wolves for four months. During the time Missa was there he was pining HARD for Phil. Calling him his love and darling in Spanish. Phil meanwhile keep saying it was platonic and most of the fans accepted that. But then Missa was gone.

And cubito Phil missed him so fucking much. It’s at this point I fully believe is when Phil finally realized he loved him. He kept referencing Missa. He made armor for Missa. He dyed his backpack black with a skull because of Missa. It’s truly my belief that Philza realized he fucking adored the man in Missas absence. He never gave up waiting for Missa. And Missa eventually kept his promise and came back to his family.

And this is when you see some of nuance or facets change slightly in their dynamic. The core is the same all the way back from day 1 but it does change. It somehow becomes softer and domestic. Sure Philza even before his grand realization in Missa absence SPOILED missa. Missa made him soft. But when the reunion happened? Somehow Philza softens even more. Somehow he spoils Missa even more. This is why I believe that Philza finally realized he loves Missa. Because there is a clear increase in the affectionate displays between them.

Philza and the rest of the server went on the mission once Missa appeared. It was legit like Philza forgot that he was a mission. Philza when Missa appeared immediately softened so much. Of course Philza isn’t angry he’s gone. He just missed his husband. And voila once asked by Cellbit “oh this is your husband?!” He immediately agreed. This is important because for months if someone asked about who is Missa he would always and never fail to say Missa is his platonic partner/husband.

But in the reunion Philza just said husband. Because in my opinion Philza fully thought of Missa his romantic partner. The fact that Philza showed everyone including Missa the skull on the black backpack almost like a bird showing off his feathers. And Missa was immediately all gushy. The fact he only looked at Missa when he said you can go into my boat. And felps not realizing the sorta of energy the two of them was having immediately was cursed to be a third wheel.

Like literally felps was in the back of the boat being all “just ignore that I’m here” when literally Philza and Missa were lost in their own fucking world. Gently flirting with each other. Felps was regretting majorly getting in the boat with them so no wonder he bounced as soon as possible. And literally they were left by themselves still on a mission to save people. But I won’t lie it was a date.

Just them loving in each other company. And Philza being so gentle and loving and protective towards Missa. Their dynamic at their core is the same yes. But it’s undeniably more romantic. And Missa side of the dynamic also changes. He starts trying his best to protect Philza. The man who has from the start been protecting him and their son.

Missa slowly starts to become more brave and actually comments on how attractive Phil is in front of him. (I can see your pecs….yes Missa we get it you love Phil). They are closer than ever. Phil also immediately accepts Missa as Tallulah other dad. Do you guys know how massive that is? He trusts and loves Missa so darn much to let him easily be part of his whole family.

And eventually Missa had to go for a bit. But the amount of pissa interaction we get during the renuion stream doesn’t end. We have loads more to dissect. Missa comes back in hope to see his son and new daughter but sadly they were sleeping but later on despite showing Tubbo around. Once he saw Missa was whispering to him in chat immediately left as soon as possible to get to his husband. Also Cellbit who was with him and tubbo was immediately like “oh you need to help your husband understandable” while tubbo was just like so confused.

Meanwhile before this Missa was crying wanting to go back to Phil. Phil is his safety blanket. Phil never fails to make him feel safe and secure and protected. There’s reasons why Missa fell so quickly. And they met up. And to bring up my earlier point above. What Phil does nest is one of my primarily reasons why I believe Phil fully realizes he loves Missa.

Yes Phil spoils Missa. It’s his love lanuage but all the gifts and upgrades he did late at night (which Phil made a mission to give stuff to Missa before he logged off.) and even the armor he made so long ago. The amount of spoiling and pampering just screams love, adoration, and affection.

And of course they get sorta matching backpacks. And of course Missa says he loves him so fast so the translator doesn’t pick it up. This leds to when Missa showed up by himself had a loony toon day before being called out by roier. He fully says he loves Philza. LOVES PHILZA. TE AMO. Romantic.

Most of the fans knew because just look how Missa acted. But once it was confirmed Missa feels romantic feelings for Philza? That’s when the majority starting fully accepting them as romantic soulmates. And started seeing Philza actions how they are. Romantic. (Though if you prefer them as platonic that’s also very valid).

The only reason a pissa wedding or confession haven’t happened is because Missa loves Philza so much he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable or burden him with his feelings for him. If philza said let’s get married he would accept immediately. But knowing Phil he will say nothing about loving Missa because he is scared he won’t be able to be protect.

And more recently. The Mexican Independence Day party. I won’t lie the times they were together they were always flirting. They were so cute. And both in my eyes were getting brave with their love for the other in their own ways. Missa literally screaming VIVA TE AMO on stage when Roier said Philza. Or Philza making sure he follows Missa during the dance. The fact Philza was so gentle explaining the recent egg disappearance and made a comment of being shock that Missa came back (he misses Missa so much each time he is gone.).

And their dynamic switches slightly again. Because Phil the whole time was worried and hovering around Missa when ingesting everything lore at once. And Missa is again getting brave he fully said he going on a date with Phil. It’s romantic. There’s no way I can personally can see it otherwise (though again if you like them platonic you are hella valid). At the start there was seeds but their romance has grown. They love each other. They need to confess for my sanity. And I fully trusts that Missa will have some sort of role in saving his love. And maybe perhaps we can get a confession or wedding in the future-

[foxaoxarts]

BEE KISS TOMORR- *dead* /j

If anyone wants to watch me drawing this like a little victorian child then the timelapse is below the cut 🤣

(FLICKER WARNING. It's all through out so be careful!👍 )

[lightbulb-warning]

so has anyone figured out WHY there is the Need To Share our Artworks™ or is it just the vibes and our Soul apparently

[noheteroexplanation]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: House of the Dragon (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Alicent Hightower/Rhaenyra Targaryen Characters: Alicent Hightower, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Aegon II Targaryen, Otto Hightower Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Lesbian Alicent Hightower, Vampire Alicent Hightower, Religious Guilt, (about the lesbianism and the vampirism), Self-Harm, the queen in chains in her dungeon era but now she is a vampire, the dungeon sex that was promised, Blood Kink, top alicent truther, timeline jumps between past (post 1x07 up to 2x08) and present (post s2) Summary:

She feels like she has drawn closer to godliness. Isn’t cruelty imperative to playing God? Isn’t power? She revels in both. (The line between holiness and abomination grows ever thinner. Are the Gods just demons by another name?)

And then the high passes and it hits her. Covered in blood with a body that has grown limp in her arms: she killed a person. Murderer. Monster.

Or: Introducing Dungeon Era™ featuring Vampire Alicent

[solomonssock]

To Capture A Demon's Heart

Mammon lovers I bestow upon you my apology fic. Please, rise up and come get your boy.

I fell for him a bit more writing this frfr

Pairing: gn!reader x Mammon (romantic feelings heavily implied, no established relationship, but don't you worry - you're working on that)

TW: Mention of Lucifer's punishments, Uhuhuh awkward discussion of infernal courting behaviors, mentions of violence, lmk if there''s anything else to add, ty!

Word Count: ~5,000

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

On the rug before you lay two options: “The Wicked Woes of Demonessa” or “To Capture a Beating Heart”. 

You flip over both DVD cases to skim their synopses, fingers trailing over the printed leads in all their infernal glory. You snort to yourself at the crossroads Asmodeus has supplied you with and wonder which would be better: an all-demon romance or a demon-human romance?

Ah-actually, the question should be: which would be easier to convince Mammon to watch with you?

The answer, as always, is neither. But that won't stop you from trying.

You shake your head, a smile pulling at your lips at the thought of how he'll react to your movie selection tonight. He's late, but with good reason, so you'll forgive him. Punishment by Lucifer is punishment enough. 

You kneel up from your position on the floor, rubbing out the pins and needles that had started to form. When all feeling returns to you, you reach under your bed to drag out the thick faux fur blanket Mammon had gifted you for your birthday this year. Custom-made, a pattern of your favorite hideously-cute zombie iguana plushies are plastered across the golden spread. You push your face into the fabric, its velvety softness tickling your skin, and inhale. It smells of the same smoky cedarwood that sticks to his skin. 

You toss it onto your bed and climb up after. One-by-one you adjust your pillows so that they rest upright against the mossy wall and face the TV. You take care to put more support on your side, anticipating he'll eventually stop resisting and cuddle up to you as he often does. When you're finally satisfied with the distribution, you hop off the bed to snatch your wallet from the table nearby. You dig inside until your finger bumps into what you're looking for; a golden grimm coin. 

Both titles are appealing enough that you're impartial to either, so you'll just do a coin toss. You're more interested in the cute expressions Mammon will show you tonight anyway. 

You flip the coin off your thumb, catch it in your palm, and lay it flat on the back of your hand. You lift your palm and grin - it's head. “The Wicked Woes of Demonessa” it is. 

A knock sounds at your door.

"Hey, Human, It's me. Open the door!" You hum to yourself, bending down to pick up just one of the DVDs. You stash both your wallet and “To Capture a Beating Heart” into your backpack and plop it into the chair farthest from the bed. You look over your room one more time and nod before walking over to open the door.

There waits your pouty demon, hair all mussed up with arms crossed over his broad chest. 

"Some nerve you got, making me wait!" He huffs. You flash him a toothy smile, tugging him inside by his elbow and shutting the door behind him.

"Happy to see you too, Mam." A light flush rises to his cheeks.

"Y-yeah..happytoseeyatooidiot," he grumbles. "Did'ya pick out a movie yet?" His eyes skitter away from you to appraise your set-up. 

Dimmed fairy lights, honey-scented candle sticks lit on golden candelabras, and the golden pendant he'd gifted you during your first year in the Devildom rests proudly over the collar of your pajama shirt. Everything is intentional. Everything is for him. 

"Sure did!" You saunter over towards your bed and bend over to pick up the DVD case from off the rug. You go to open the case, but a lack of following footfalls distracts you. You look over your shoulder to find him fidgeting in the middle of your room. 

You frown. "What's wrong Mam?" 

"W-what's that smell?" His eyes flicker to and fro, scanning your space for the source.  

"Uh, well I lit some scented candles. If they're too sweet for you I can turn them off, no problem." You toss the case onto your bed before heading for the coffin-shaped bookshelf in the back. You pick through a small black lace basket filled with spell tools you're borrowing from Solomon. 

You forget sometimes how heightened their senses are compared to yours. 

"You don't gotta go making a big deal out of it. A little sweetness ain't nothin' to the Great Mammon."  He chuckles loud and proud, but you catch the way he clenches his fists at his side.

"It "ain't nothin'" if it bothers you, Mam." You admonish. You finally find the candle snuffer and lift it out of the basket. "Your comfort is my priority, alright?"

He sputters, eyes wide, and you shoot him a soft smile as you move over to the first candelabra. "Really, it's no trouble."

Before you can snuff out the first candle stick, a firm hand wraps around your wrist. "Nah, s'fine. I..I like it." Your heart does a little flip at the admission, but as you glance down at the back of his hand you frown. 

"Aw, what happened here?" Your free hand traces the indentations pressed into his skin. They aren't too deep, but they seem a little aggravated. 

"Tsch," he releases you to shove both his hands into his jacket pockets. A slight crinkle catches your attention as they settle into the tight space, but you'll worry about that later. 

"Hey, none of that. No hiding." You place the snuffer onto the table and turn to him. You hold out your hands, palms up, and wait. Mammon can only shuffle his feet and avoid your eyes for so long.

"He's getting all creative now! Damn sadist."

You purse your lips and sigh out of your nose. Lucifer only had his brother's best interests in mind, but his methods could be awfully draconian at the worst of times. You'd seen in the group chat this morning that Mammon had tried to sell photos he sneaked out of Diavolo's private chambers. You haven't a clue of how he got past Barbatos of all beings, but you don't put it past him, he certainly is one of the most driven individuals you'd ever met. Undoubtedly, Mammon tested his luck and crossed several boundaries, but your heart aches for him. He's always hated sharing the weakest parts of himself.

"We don't have to talk about it. Will you just let me help you out a bit?" You bat your eyelashes when he finally meets your gaze. He scoffs and shrugs his shoulders.

"Can't keep your hands off me, can ya?" You quirk a brow at him, a knowing look on your face. You start to lower your hands slowly, purposefully.

"That's alright, Mam. I wouldn't want to force you." Before your hands can drop to your side, he clutches them in his own.

"Who said anything about force?! See," his hands squeeze your own, "all good to go." You drag your thumbs over the knuckles encasing your own.

"Go ahead and sit down, I'll join you in a sec." You gesture to the bed and your heart does happy little flips when he gravitates straight to the zombie-iguana blanket.

"Ya still got tha damn thing?" The question comes out soft, too soft, that you wonder if it was for you to begin with.

"Course I do. My first man gave it to me!" You can't stop yourself from laughing at the way his shoulders shoot up to his ears.

"Y-yeah," he attempts to catch himself as you walk back over to the bookshelf and dig into another basket, "It was a hassle to get it made, so don't go lettin' anybody else mess with it."

"Don't worry," you tease from the other side of the room. You can't resist the opportunity to rile up his greed, "I only take it out for our movie nights."

Sparing his dignity, you don't look up from the basket as you hear him choke a bit. When he calms down you grab the lotion-salve you'd made about a week ago, good for healing any minor wounds. Smelling of bergamot with hints of lavender, it's your proudest achievement thus far.

"Actually, speaking of our movie nights...," you stand and make your way over to the bed. Already, he's shoved off his jacket and shoes, making himself at home among the pillows. As your eyes scan his toned arms you're reminded that you quite literally have a model in your bed.

"This is the first one we've had in a while, huh?" He spreads his legs as you come closer, signaling for you to sit in between them. As you join him, his eyes soften and he holds out his hands for you to take. You're humbled by the trust he places in you.

You squirt some lotion into your hand and rub your palms together to warm it up before you reach for him. He sniffs the air and sits up a bit.

"The hells that?" 

You cock your head. Does he really not like the smell this time?

"You mean the lotion?"

"Yeah! Did Asmo give you that? I don't want that flowery shit." Ah, the real issue isn't the lotion itself . Rather, that another demon may have given it to you. Despite the laugh begging to spill forth from your lips, you manage to cool your expression.

You slowly massage the cream into your skin, biting your lip at the low warning growl that leaves him. You just had to be sure. "No, Mam. Asmodeus didn't give this one to me. I made it myself." His posture relaxes considerably.

That is, until you open your mouth again.

"But, if you don't like the smell I can go give it to him. He'd probably like it, right? I can go real qu-" You don't get to finish your sentence as his hand grasps the front of your shirt, tugging you forward until you're trapped in his arms.

"Ya ain't goin nowhere."  Goosebumps prick at your skin in response to this growl. It's not a warning. It's daring you to try your luck. You move quickly to return his embrace, smoothing your hands over his backside to reassure him. "You're stayin' here with me, understand?" Warmth flows through you from head to toe. 

"So, you don't find the scent completely and utterly repulsive?" Your hands trail upwards to massage his shoulders, pushing and prodding the tense muscles. He flinches, but doesn't stop you. 

"Ah, hold on!" Something clicks as he snaps back from you, holding you back by your shoulders. "Nobody said anythin' about being repulsed! Who said they're repulsed? Not me!" 

"Oh, good!" You pull his hands off your shoulders, dropping them onto your lap as you reach over for the lotion. Again, you warm it up between your hands. "Then just sit still, alright?"

He goes down quietly, too quietly, that you make sure to watch his face for any discomfort as you reach for the first hand. A touch to his skin surprises you. His hand is rougher than you expect, but you mask your curiosity and don't hesitate to place your hands atop his. The last thing you want is for him to recede into himself when you've finally gotten this far into whatever is happening between the two of you. You can ask about the rough calluses on his palm another day.

You start with the lines indented over his fingers, carefully kneading the skin as he hisses under his breath. His eyes, a blend of ocean and golden sun, remain transfixed on where your skin meets. But, his face is marred by a deep frown that makes your blood run cold. Did you overstep somewhere? 

"What's running through your mind?" You work your way onto his palm, tenderly rubbing the faded scars littered across the expanse of skin. The lotion can't heal something that has already come to pass. Nor can you, but you'll hold him here for as long as he'll let you. 

A sigh leaves him. "Don't go treatin' me like I'm fragile. I'm supposed to protect you, got it?"

 He's right, he's not fragile. Beneath the glamor he's taut, tough skin, with sharp fangs and leathery wings that could tear you to shreds. But, he's also the same demon who seeks you out for comfort after punishments or a big loss at the casino. The same demon who sits through horror movies if it means he'll have an excuse to spend the night with you. The demon who would truly do anything you asked of him - and that's not a power you wield lightly. 

You pat his hand with a smile to let him know you're finished and hold out your hands for him once more. You'll let him decide if he wants to continue.

"Hey, don't you dare ignore me!" Plopping his hand into yours immediately defeats the tough tone he's put on. You start from the top and repeat the motion, fingers to palm. A rush of boldness overcomes you as you press into the callouses. You adore this demon. You wish he could see himself the way you see him. 

"I know you're not fragile, Mam." You finish up the massage, but don't let go. You watch as the indentations gradually fade into even skin. "But, you're precious to me. I treasure what's precious to me. You get that, don't you?" 

Your stomach drops as silence greets you. At the very least, you think, it's a good sign that he hasn't pulled his hand away from you. You drop both of your hands into your lap and fidget with his fingers.

"You mean that?" You never knew Mammon's voice could sound so meek. 

You lift your eyes to his, grasping his hand tightly between your own. Wide eyes, mouth parted, and brows furrowed. Even like this, he's a vision.

"I mean it, Mam." 

At once, his cheeks are aflame. "I-you!" He stammers. A laugh rips from your chest, relieved that he didn't a) run out of the room or b) hide away from you. You want to tease him more, but you hold back. Instead, you reach over to pick up the DVD from off your comforter and savor this milestone between the two of you.

"Ready for the movie?" You ask, getting up from the bed.

"Huh? Oh that, yeah, yeah." He seems a bit dazed. 

"You feeling ok?" You lean over, lifting your hand to feel his forehead, but his hand catches yours before you reach him. 

"I'm fine! The hell we watching anyway?" You use your free hand to show him the DVD cover. The two demonic leads stand before each other, hand in hand, leaning in for a kiss under the title. 

"The Wicked Woes of Demonessa?!" He sounds exasperated. "W-where'd you get that junk?! We ain't watching that!"

"What, why not?" You pout, giving him puppy dog eyes.

"That's some mind poison! All it's good for is rottin' ya brain." He snarls, but you know you've got him. A little nudging is all he needs.

"Oh." You sigh, purposefully. "Well, if you don't want to watch it with me, I'm sure Beel or Mo wouldn't mind." "Like he-" "Or-" You counter before he can start running his mouth. "We can watch another movie I borrowed as a back-up."

Mammon eyes you suspiciously. "What other movie are ya hidin', human?"

You have to be a little evil in this back-and-forth or you'll never get anywhere. So, you shuffle over to the TV stand and grab the unopened DVD case resting next to the DVD player. You show him the cover and watch as he immediately recoils.

"ARE YA CRAZY?!" He shrieks. A myriad of ghosts with tormented expressions erupt from the house that rests above the title that reads: The Horrible Haunting of Hollow Hill Manner. 

"What?" You ask like it's not the most peculiar and pointed selection to ensure you two watch your movie of choice this evening.

"What?" He mocks your casual tone. "Who're ya borrowin' that from?"

"Satan." Your smile comes easy. "He recommended this one, it's a murder mystery that takes place in a haunted house. Apparently, it's based on a true story."

"A TRUE WHAT?!" He throws the fur blanket over himself, leaving only his head submerged. 

"Mammon," you snort, "you're literally one of the most powerful beings in existence. Fourth most powerful in all the Devildom."

You can't see his chest puff up, but you know him well enough to know it does. 

"E-exactly!" He exclaims. "I can take on anything. Some cheap old trick movie like that won't scare me, nuh-uh, it'll  just be a snoozefest."

"I see," you smirk, "then some cliche romance flick shouldn't be too bad, right? Wouldn't want you falling asleep on me." Hook, line, and sinker.

You pay Mammon's complaints no mind as you open the DVD case and pull out the disk. You pop it into the DVD player, thrilled you get to watch a classic demonic romance unfold. You've been curious for some time now about how romance in the Devildom differs from the Human Realm. The plot seemed entertaining enough, but really you were curious about the customs. You wanted to woo him on his terms, in a way he couldn't blow off as some human schtick. 

You press play and pad back over to your bed. He's pouty, so you decide to sit next to him and hold out on getting under the blanket with him.You'll wait until the mood passes and give him his space.You can feel his stare digging into you as the opening soundtrack plays, but you manage to keep your focus on the screen. For a couple of minutes you two sit like this.

"Why're ya bein' like that?" He accuses.

"Like what?" You snap your head to him, eyes widening as you see him sit up, blanket falling off his shoulders and into his lap.

"Distant." He huffs, looking away from you. "Y-you said you treasure what's precious to ya, right?" 

Your heart is about to fucking explode. You don't waste a minute, wrapping your arm around his and tugging at him to face you. 

"You looked upset, so I wanted to give you your space." You utter, softly. "Would you be ok if I joined you under the blanket?" 

He scoffs, lifting the blanket up and over you. "Like ya even hav'ta ask." Earlier in the night than you've anticipated, he cuddles into your side with his head resting on your chest. You can't read his face from this angle, but a subdued purr rumbling through him assures you he's comfortable. 

You two sit like this throughout the first half of the movie. It's an interesting premise concentrated on the love between a demon of nobility and a commoner of great strength who has been hired to train the noble in the art of war.  Later on, it's revealed that the commoner's unprecedented strength is due to them being an illegitimate child of a Great General of the East. The noble's father, a Recordkeeper, has hidden away documents proving the commoner's lineage at their father's request. Thus, they come to the castle under the guise of an instructor and soon find their plans disrupted when they begin to fall for the Recordkeeper's heir. 

Your curiosity is piqued as displays of what you presume is affection come onto the screen. "Hey Mam, I thought they liked each other, so why are they wrestling like that right now?"  

It's a more violent display than you expect, but you're entranced as their jaws snap, teeth are bared, and claws dig into skin. The leads throw each other against any surface within the weapon storehouse, stopping the other before they can plan an escape.  You look down at Mammon to find him hiding his face into your shirt, the tips of his ears tinged red.

"It's a show of strength." He mumbles into your shirt.

"A show of strength...," you repeat thoughtfully, "is that common in courtship here?"

Mammon groans, hiding further into your shirt. "I don'wanna talk about this. Don't they teach ya shit like that in your Demon Studies course or somethin'?"

"Unfortunately, no. The topic has never come up." Demon Studies has solely focused on social, political, and institutional relationships within the Devildom. Nothing interpersonal as far as you can remember.

"What?! Well they should, some silly 'ol human isn't gonna just pick up on that." 

"Well," you drag your fingers through his hair, "think you could enlighten me?" 

He peeks up at you with a glare. "Whad'ya wanna know?" The topic seems sensitive, so you tread lightly.

"Could you tell me what a common courtship is like here? You don't have to be detailed or anything. Like, are there steps?" Most of the romance movies you've seen during your time here have been pirated by Leviathan from the human realm. 

Again, Mammon hides his face from you. You are about to suggest you two move past the topic when he finally speaks up.

"Yeah. Yeah there are steps." You stay silent, but keep running your hand through his hair.

"Y'noticed how the noble started sendin' letters? Or how once they got a response from the sword swinger they started includin' trinkets or whatever with 'em?" A moment of silence passes and he peeks up at you. It hits you that he's waiting on you to respond.

You smile bashfully. "Oh, yes! Yes, I noticed."

He huffs. "It started then. Goin' all out with gifts, tryin' to impress each other like lunatics."

"Are trinkets usually given?" You ask.

"Mm," he hums, "yeah, but gifts are as varied as demons. Some prefer other things: food, poems, flowers, the heart of your greatest enemy, buncha stuff."

"Huh-" Did you hear that correctly? 

"The heart of your greatest enemy?" You parrot.

"What, ya sayin' humans don't do that anymore?" You shake your head. 

"None that I've met at least." You don't doubt that humans have done it at some point in time, but it sounds more like some distant wartime practice from the Middle Ages or earlier. 

"Still happens here. It's a show of strength and dedication, proof ya can kick any ass that comes threatinin' your potential mate." He seems to be relaxing more and more as you delve deeper into the topic. 

"So, the wrestling...?" 

"Show of strength. They're pretty equally matched, even though the lovebirds run in different circles. Makes 'em decent partners at least." You feel your mind expanding with the revelation that this scene is way deeper than you've realized. Despite the commoner's standing, they've been in control for most of the wrestling match. 

"Ooooh!" You take a minute to ponder. 

"So, demons won't usually go for someone weaker than them?"

"Bingo."

You wonder what this means for you two. You certainly aren't as strong enough as a demon, and especially not as strong as the Avatar of Greed. 

You lose your train of thought as Mammon sits up more to face you, poking you in the forehead.

"Doesn't mean they never will." You relax your face at his touch, you hadn't realized it was scrunched up so much. 

"It's not all about how tough ya are. It's 'bout how they make ya feel too. A courtship is pretty serious stuff, you don't pursue somethin' that intense with just any old schmuck."

Mammon's eyes follow your hand as it reaches to fiddle with the golden pendant he gifted you. In the middle lies some gemstone you can't find in the human world. It's clear with specks of gold and blue. He blushes and coughs into his fist.

"If it continues after that, it gets pretty serious pretty fast. Ya start scentin' each others stuff, which is a pretty ballsy move."

Your eyebrows jump up at this unexpected development. "Scenting...?"

"Yeah, puttin' your scent out so they know who ya belong to. No human nose is gonna pick up on somethin' subtle like that, but it's there." Wait, so does that mean-

"Is the house scented? Can it just be anything?" Mammon looks at you as if you've just grown another head.

"Huh?! No!" Embarrassment warms your cheeks.

"Why would we go wastin' energy like that? That's crazy. If anything is scented, it's intentional and nothin' time consumin'." You shrug your shoulders.

"Ah, ok. I didn't know." You fiddle some more with the pendant, looking away from him.

"Ack, no don't feel bad!" His face is just as flushed as yours, but he continues. "You didn't ask anything stupid. There's no way ya could've known!" You can't stop the giddy grin that pulls at your lips as he attempts to comfort you. You face him again.

"So, what happens next? If you're already doing something like that, aren't you practically together?" 

"Practically, but not officially." He grumbles. "Buncha kids go around scentin' each other thinkin' they're in love. The scent fades as fast as the feelin's." He runs a hand through his hair with a sigh.

"It's official when ya make it official. A spoken agreement between partners. No bullshittin'."

"That's it?" You try to sidestep the microscopic lens of human tunnel vision, but a spoken agreement feels less official than marriage in the human world. Joint assets, joint families, and rings as proof of being claimed.

"Whad'ya mean "that's it?"?! All and everything you really feel. Ya gotta say it and ya gotta mean it. It's a bindin' contract that's a bitch to ever try and break." It clicks for you then. A demon's word is binding.

"Like a pact, but for romantic partners?"

Mammon ponders for a moment before he nods. "That's not too far off. Little more goes into it, but it's complicated." The lull that comes after feels like the end of the conversation, so you take your chance.

"Mammon, has anyone tried courting you before?"

"Hah, of course!" His grin is as smug as it always is. "Who wouldn't want to take a chance to be with The Great Mammon?" He laughs to himself, but you wonder-

"Have you ever accepted an attempt?" You're curious.

"Uh-" The question catches him off guard. "Y-yeah. A handful of times, but it never went anywhere." You're a little disappointed, but you swallow down your pride. It would be more concerning if he'd never tried to find love throughout the milleniums he's lived. 

You shift your line of questioning. You'd rather focus on the present and this momentous opportunity lined up before you.

"So, say I were to get you something. What would you like?" You've never seen his head whip around so fast, truly inhuman speed as he jumps back from you and slams into the headboard.

"The hell, MC?!" His face, ears, and what you can see of his neck, everywhere is flushed at your implication. This is just as embarrassing for you, but you feel emboldened by the security of your room, the sweet scent of honey in the air, and the declarations of love coming from the movie that still runs in the background.

"What about a pendant to match mine? Would you wear something like that if I got it for you?" You've come so close. You won't give up now. 

"W-why would I want somethin' like that?" You know it's a deflection. He wouldn't have stayed with you, here and now, if it wasn't. But, you're tired of it. You only want it if he wants it too. No bullshitting, right?

"Nevermind then, Mam. Don't worry, I won't get you anything. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." You reach for the remote that fell to the floor during all the commotion. "We don't have to finish the mo-"

You squeal in shock as Mammon throws himself into you. It's enough force to knock you back onto the pillows sprawled all over. You're speechless as he hides his face into your neck. He's never gotten this close to you. 

"S'fine." His grip on you tightens. "A matching necklace, s'good."

You can't contain yourself. "Mam, look at me."

He hums but doesn't move.

"Mammon, look at me." You're gentle with him as you cup his cheeks. 

"Seriously, you would accept it?" 

"Now you're just bein' cruel. I said it's good, didn't I?!" You can feel the sting of tears building. You don't think you've ever been this happy. 

You rub your thumbs over his cheeks. "Hey, Mam?"

"Whatd’ya want now?" 

"Can I kiss you?"  

In an instant, you're pressed back into the pillows, Mammon's lips on yours. It's not fireworks like humans talk about, nor the clashing of fangs as demons might do. It's tender and filled with a longing buried deep within the soul. It's messy. It's unexpected. It's perfect. 

You pull back to catch your breath and are touched by the unshed tears in Mammon's glassy eyes. It seems the sensation was mutual.

"I love you, Mam." 

You can figure out what this means for you two going forward tomorrow. You can ask about the callouses on his hands or for the stories of hardship behind the scars. You can discuss where courtships went wrong for you both, talk through your communication struggles, and love each other openly without fear. You're just so happy, really, that he'll let you love him. 

"I love ya too, MC."  He settles back into your arms, and you two lay there for some time, movie all but forgotten.

It's when the credits roll that Mammon shoots up, rushing to grab his jacket.

"Ah, shit!" He digs into his jacket pockets, pulling out a couple bags of hellfire twists. Your shared favorite movie treat.

"I meant to give this to ya earlier. So, ya know, we could have a snack during the movie." You chuckle at him as he rubs the back of his neck.

"We still can. Ever heard of ``To Capture a Beating Heart”?"

[deathbyclown]

Bump in the Night Pairing: Crocodile x Buggy Rating: T Words: 11,000

Summary: Buggy is being haunted!!! Or at least that’s what he tries to explain to his business associates! Crocodile is not having it, but when it starts to become a distraction…well maybe he’ll humor the clown.

(Buggy is convinced there is a ghost in his room and he goes through several methods to be rid of it, with no luck. Crocodile is progressively losing his patience with Buggy until he decides to let Buggy stay over. Will Crocodile be able to help Buggy with his ghost problem?)

((The POV will switch between Buggy and Crocodile))

AO3 Link

THUMP 

Buggy sat straight up from his bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. There it was. That sound again! He glanced around in the dark room, his eyes attempting to adjust to the darkness. Only moonlight shone in through the gaps in his tent, making everything hard to see, stretched and shadowed with just the little bits of light. His looked all around and shrieked at the dark looming figure next to his vanity. His hand fumbled against his lamp, trying to find the stupid switch, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling, very aware of the thing in the room. He flicked on the light and grabbed the dagger he kept under his pillow, turning the blade to the figure, but it stood there, motionless, inanimate. He took a shaky breath, dropping the dagger to the bed, relieved to see it was just his coat rack. 

He couldn’t keep doing this! He had woken up every night to the same sound, only to find nothing in the room, his heart pounding. He would be in deep asleep, and then the thumps would happen. Like clockwork, thumping somewhere in his room that stopped as soon as he sat up. And he’d feel a chill, a presence, and all the hair on his body would stand on end, a cold sweat overtaking him, making him clammy. He’d look around the room, dagger in hand, only to find.... nothing. He was sure that someone or something was in the room with him, he just couldn’t see it. He could feel it though, that same feeling when someone is staring at you, watching you, and he’d whip his head around, searching frantically for the source of his discomfort, but there was nothing he could see. 

He tried to settle back into bed, keeping the lights on. He closed his eyes, but his whole body felt tense, his heart beating quickly, hard enough to feel it through his chest, to feel it in his throat, his mouth, to hear it pounding in his ears. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down, easing into his nice soft plush pillows and blankets. 

THUMP 

Buggy shot up and out of bed, rushing out of his room and into the town. His heart beat wildly, the cool night air chilling his clammy skin, filling his lungs. He didn’t care that he was only in his underwear and bonnet, running on dirt roads in bare feet. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew he couldn’t stay in his room for another minute. Every little sound, every small movement out of the corner of his eye made him jump, the dark quiet rows of tents and newly constructed buildings seemed much more eerie in the dead of night. 

He saw a light on in one of the buildings and made a beeline for it, as if he were a moth to a flame. As soon as he reached the building he threw open the door and slammed it shut behind him. Whoever was inside was already awake anyway, so what did it matter if he was loud? He relaxed a little against the door, the warmth and light inside felt comforting, like whatever was in his room, whatever was out there in the darkness, wouldn’t hurt him in here. 

He walked further into the building, which he realized was a home, and he felt uneasy once more, but for a very different reason. The only ones who had new homes on Karai Bari were the newest arrivals, who did not want to sleep in a circus tent under any circumstances. So he was in the home of either Mihawk or Crocodile... or one of their subordinates. Was it better to face the enemy you knew versus the one you didn’t? 

Buggy took a deep breath and continued forward, peeking around corners and doorways until he came across a partially opened door, warm light streaming from the doorway, the smell of cigar smoke wafting into the partially darkened hallway. 

Crocodile. He was awake. Of course he was, did he ever stop working? Buggy peeked around the doorway and saw Crocodile sitting at his desk, his shirt open at the collar, his hand holding up papers as he tiredly looked over them, his cigar hanging loosely between his teeth. He sighed slowly, smoke swirling from his lips. 

“Why are you here, Buggy?” He asked, his voice just above a rumble, but clear in the quiet room. 

Buggy jumped with a squeak, pulling his head from the doorway and pressed his back against the wall. He held his hand over his heart, nearly beating out of his chest; he wasn’t sure how many more scares he could take. 

“H-how did you know I was here?” Buggy peeked back in, and then slowly entered, not coming in further than a few steps from the door. 

Crocodile gave him a look, like he was stupid and then sighed, rubbing his forehead with his hand. 

“Haki.” he stated simply and then added, “You’re also very loud.” 

“I’m not that loud!” Buggy argued, loudly. 

So Crocodile could tell he was here by using...haki. He had forgotten about haki, locked it away with the rest of his memories about his time with the Roger Pirates. Almost everyone on that ship knew how to use it, but he was too young at the time to truly grasp it. And then after Roger’s execution, Buggy shed everything that reminded him of Roger, of Shanks, of his childhood adventures. All of those things, they hurt too much to think on, so he just didn’t. He had more important things to focus on, like his own flashy life! 

“Did you fall asleep?” Crocodile seemed to be genuinely asking, looked him up and down, his papers set aside a while ago as he smoked down his cigar. 

Buggy must’ve just been standing there quietly, nearly motionless for long enough to throw Crocodile off. Ha! It may not have been intentional, but he managed to trick him! He should do something to take advantage of this situation, to rub it in Crocodile’s face, but he yawned before he could help himself, revealing himself to be perfectly awake. 

“DAMNIT” Buggy shouted, suddenly, smacking his hands into his forehead, making Crocodile's eye twitch. 

“Buggy.” Crocodile stood from his desk, his voice dangerous. Buggy froze, watching as Crocodile circled his desk, standing to his full height, taking slow deliberate steps toward him. 

“It’s almost three in the morning. You’ve shown up to my personal residence, uninvited. You’re nearly naked. You’re loud. You’re tracking in dirt .” Crocodile kept speaking, each step toward Buggy felt like a threat. “You’re standing there, interrupting my work and wasting my time. So you better have a damn good reason to explain your presence here.” Crocodile loomed over Buggy, whose fear easily returned as he stood in Crocodile’s shadow. 

“C-Croccy! I. I didn’t realize it was your house! But! But you’re just the guy I wanted to talk to! Y’see there’s someone in my room... but I can’t find them! They keep making noises and-” 

Crocodile put his hook under Buggy’s chin, the sharp point pressing into him, painful, but not yet breaking the skin. 

“Let me give you an example of what you should do when there’s an unwanted guest in your room.” Crocodile grabbed Buggy by his throat with his hand, squeezing tightly, making him choke and gasp. His hands clawed at Crocodile’s arm, his body attempting to break away, but his throat was held firmly in his grasp. He walked Buggy’s throat to the front door, the rest of him following in a panic, his body swirling around him like a swarm of bees. Crocodile threw open the door and chucked Buggy’s neck as far as he could throw it, the other parts of him following like a group of ducklings after its mother. 

That didn’t go well. Buggy managed to catch himself from falling onto the ground when he re-assembled but when he took his first step he tripped and stumbled, falling face first into the dirt. Now Buggy was cold, and dirty, and had to either find somewhere else to sleep or return to his haunted room. He groaned in frustration and dragged his feet back to his tent. Maybe whatever was there would be gone because he left and it lost interest! 

... 

Buggy nodded off at breakfast, face dropping right into his plate of eggs and sausage. He didn’t get a wink of sleep last night after he returned. Instead he showered, got dressed way too early, started his makeup, realized he hated his outfit and changed. And then proceeded to change five more times, leaving clothes everywhere in his room. And then he fell asleep while he was straightening his hair and burnt off a large chunk. It was a very messy morning.  

He wiped egg off of his face for the second time that morning, stabbing a fork into a sausage link, bringing it to his mouth with his eyes closed and biting down around nothing, chewing on air as he drifted off again. 

“Captain?”  A voice cut though his snoozing and he sat up with a start, squinting and looking around. A few of his subordinates were sitting down around him, eating their own breakfast. They must’ve seen him struggling to stay awake (and eat his breakfast) because they were all looking at him with concern, murmuring amongst themselves. Buggy sat up a little straighter, remembering to plaster a confident smile on his face. 

“Did you have a long night, sir?”  One of them asked, a little timid. 

Buggy smiled tightly at them, nodding his head slowly. “Oh nothing I can’t handle!” he tried to wave away their concern. 

“Don’t worry Captain, you can confide in us!”  One of them encouraged, the rest of them sounding their agreement. 

Buggy hesitated, tightening his lips in a line as he thought it over. It was probably not a good look for him to be sharing something that could be seen as a weakness with his underlings, at least that’s what the voice that sounded like Crocodile in his head warned. But Buggy wanted to share what was going on with him, because he had never dealt with a ghost before and wanted advice. So against his better judgement he explained to the group of people sitting with him what he had been experiencing the past few nights. 

A few of them nodded sagely, and the others just looked confused.  

“I was on a ship where this very same thing happened to the captain! Y’see he had the same kind of problem, hearing sounds at night, strange noises. He swore someone was following him. He spent every night awake, barely sleeping during the day. Well he was so exhausted he finally fell asleep. He slept for near three days, so we went to check on him. And when we looked inside...he was dead. No one had been in the room, ‘cept him! The whole crew was in shock. We looked high and low for any clues, but there was no signs of foul play. The strangest thing about it was…he died lookin’ like he was screaming… but none of the crew had heard a thing.” 

Everyone at the table was silent and Buggy was sweating right through his shirt. Is that what was going to happen to him?! Was he going to be murdered by a flashy ghost, unable evade whatever was chasing him??? 

“Oh that’s a load of bullshit! I’ve heard that same story a hundred time over from a hundred different crews. That’s just a ghost story they tell to rookies!” 

The crew members started arguing amongst themselves, leaving Buggy to sneak away, trying to keep his cool so he could leave the tent unnoticed and then frantically run to Crocodile’s office. He needed someone strong and knowledgeable to help him! And since it was morning now, and neither of them were tired, maybe this conversation would go a little better than last night. 

Buggy knocked on Crocodile’s door this time, trying to restrain himself from banging, but not really managing. The door opened and before him stood Daz, who looked down at him stone-faced.  

“I-is Crocodile here? I gotta talk to him!” Buggy peeked past Daz, trying to see if Crocodile was behind him or something. 

“He’s in a meeting.” Daz answered and Buggy whined in frustration.  

“Well, when will he be done?!” He looked up at Daz’s face, pleadingly. 

“He’s busy most of the day. I’ll let him know you stopped by.” Daz closed the door on Buggy and he stood there in shock for a moment and then screamed, kicked the door, and then hobbled away in pain. 

He needed to talk to someone else about this, someone who felt obligated to help him! 

... 

He sat down with his lieutenants to devise a plan for his ghost. He explained everything to them, adding in what he was told this morning about the captain who mysteriously died. Cabaji and Mohji shared Buggy’s reaction, shocked and terrified, but Alvida just scoffed and rolled her eyes. Galdino just sat there with a serious look on his face, rubbing his chin in thought. Buggy turned to Alvida, offended by her dismissal. 

“Hey! Why are you rolling your eyes?! This real and I'm going to die!! Do you think that's funny?!” 

Alvida let out a tired sigh. “Ghosts aren’t real. You probably just have rats because your room is a pigsty.” 

Buggy’s face flushed and he growled, “Are you calling me a pig?! Because I’ve seen your room! Its looks like a torture chamber!” 

“This coming from the man who decorates his room like a 12 year-old girl.” Alvida shot back, looking relaxed, but mildly entertained. 

Buggy shot from his seat, stretching his body to tower over Alvida. “ITS FLASHY! !” 

“Buggy.” Galdino said suddenly, making Buggy twist his body toward him. “I may have a solution to your problem.” 

Buggy snapped back to his normal size and leaned over the table eagerly towards Mr.3. “Really?! Well spit it out!” 

Mr. 3 frowned a little deeper and adjusted his glasses. “If there is a being or entity in your room and it is able to make sound, then that means it must have a physical form. And if it has a physical form, then that means it has a weakness, which means we can take advantage of that weakness.” Galdino looked meaningfully at Buggy, who nodded along, thoughtfully, but he had no idea what Galdino was getting  at, and this became obvious the longer it took Buggy to fill in the blank. Mr. 3 huffed in frustration and continued. 

“And that weakness is being vulnerable to capture! So we would just have to set up a trap and then we would be in possession of a ghost! “ Mr.3’s eyes shined with excitement and determination. “Can you imagine how much of your debt would be erased if you could offer Sir Crocodile something that rare?”  

Buggy gasped loudly, drawing everyone’s eye. He rushed forward and grabbed Galdino by his shoulders, shaking him. “That’s a brilliant idea! This is why you’re my buddy! I knew you were still on my side!” Buggy grinned from ear to ear, and Mr. 3 gave him a self-satisfied smile in return, a light blush on his cheeks. 

“Well, then, lets go to my workshop! We can draw up some blueprints!” He grabbed Mr.3 under his arms, who made a noise of indignation, and flew them out of the room, Buggy’s feet pattering after him 

Alvida gave a weary sigh. “They are so stupid.” 

... 

Daz let him know that Buggy stopped by, seeming frantic, but really, when wasn’t that clown in a panic? He waved it off and continued his work, easily losing track of time, once again. He didn’t give Buggy a second thought for the rest of the day. He sat in his comfortable armchair, having just finished his dinner, and listened to his favorite record while he read the newspaper. It was a wonderfully quiet and productive day today, and it was that thought that made him realize he hadn’t heard from Buggy since this morning. It was rather unusual given that, so far, Buggy had interrupted him at some point during the day, intentionally or unintentionally, every day since they formed Cross Guild. Usually, it was from causing a disturbance somewhere on the island, and every once in a while it was Buggy coming to him directly to bother him about some kind of grievance that Buggy could easily solve himself. 

But there were no such disturbances today. And Crocodile was starting to find that more worrying than Buggy’s chaos and noise. If something happened to him, if he died or got hurt, then it wouldn’t be a problem. His followers would defer to Crocodile if he played his cards right. But what if Buggy was doing something to betray him? That would be a problem. 

Begrudgingly he left his cozy armchair and subtly made his way to Buggy’s tent. It was late enough in the evening that he was probably doing his stupidly long nighttime routine. What a waste of time, washing his face with three different soaps, adding oils and lotions and patches. All of it was slick and gloopy and sticky and smelled sweet, like something he couldn’t recall, but was being replaced in his memories by Buggy. 

As he approached he could hear Buggy being his usual loud self, and Crocodile silently breathed a sigh of relief. Well, at least he knew where Buggy was, but now he needed to figure out what he’d been doing all day. Buggy was shouting, the words indecipherable through the hum of noise across the island, but he heard another person’s voice, a man and paused at the doorway to the tent. He listened intently, only catching bits and pieces; 

“No! Not like that, you’re doing it wrong!”  

“...” 

“Can’t you make it harder?”  

“...”  

A yelp, definitely from Buggy. Crocodile bit into his cigar, not sure what to make of what he was hearing. He rang the annoying bell that Buggy had attached to his tent for visitors and waited. It became suddenly quiet and Crocodile almost went in when a very red-faced and sweaty Mr.3 poked his head out from the flaps. He looked around in annoyance and then up in fear as he saw who stood before him. 

“M-Mr. 0!” Mr.3 stood suddenly and stepped forward, revealing more of his body to Crocodile. His clothes were disheveled, his one suspender slipped off of his shoulder, his shirt open at the neck, revealing more sweaty skin. 

The irritation he felt at seeing Mr.3 was immediate and sudden. Why the hell was he in Buggy’s room looking like he’d just interrupted them in the middle of screwing? Is this what Buggy was busy doing all day? 

Crocodile locked his jaw and looked down coldly at Mr.3 who trembled in place. Crocodile was about to chew him out when Buggy popped his head out, only his head, the rest of his body left behind somewhere and now Crocodile really couldn’t get a measure of what was going on in his tent. 

“What the hell is taking you so long? I’m waiting-” Buggy did a double take at Crocodile who could feel the vein in his forehead pulsing. “Croccy, baby!” Buggy’s head floated before Crocodile who grimaced at Buggy getting so close to his face. “You’ve caught us at a bad time! We’re kinda in the middle of something, so do y’think I could do a raincheck on our meeting?” He pleaded, giving Crocodile his best pout. As if that would work on him. 

He rolled his eyes and turned his face from Buggy as he felt his cheeks warming, pretending to look disinterested as he pulled his cigar from his lips. “We didn’t have a meeting, idiot. Daz said you were looking for me.” 

“Oh, well, you’ll be proud of me, Croc! I fixed my own problem! Speaking of which, I gotta get back to it! see you later!” Buggy zoomed back into his tent and Mr.3 looked quickly between Crocodile and the tent flaps, made a sort of bow and apologized, then followed Buggy back into the tent.  

Crocodile blew smoke from the side of his mouth sharply and tried not to let Buggy’s easygoing attitude get under his skin. Proud of him? Like hell he was. Whatever he was feeling toward Buggy in this moment wasn’t something he wanted to examine. He turned on his heel and went back to his comfortable home. If Buggy was solving his own problems now, all the better. Less worry for him. Let that rotten little clown do as he pleased, as long as he stayed the hell out of his way. 

... 

“He looked kinda mad, didn’t he? Good thing he didn’t come in here, I don’t think he’d be happy to see what I’ve done with the place.” Buggy floated above his floor which was entirely covered in wax. Mr. 3 huffed and continued his taxing wax work, trying to follow the haphazardly drawn blueprint that Buggy sketched out that afternoon. 

“Are you sure you want this to be triggered by any touch? What if a rat runs across the floor?” Mr.3 panted, finishing the last series of cages hanging above Buggy’s floor. The only non-booby trapped spot in the tent was the bed and the edges of the circular tent. Mr. 3 sat down along the edge, wiping his brow, trying to catch his breath. 

“I DON’T HAVE RATS!” Buggy screeched, scowling at Galdino. 

Mr.3 huffed and rolled his eyes. “Well, whatever is taking form in your room may end up triggering multiple cages, are you sure that’s a good idea?” 

“Of course!!” Buggy held out his arms wide, “if one cage doesn’t do the job, then we’ll have all these flashy back-ups!!” 

Mr.3 sat up, and rested an arm on his knee, shaking his head. “I don’t think this is the best method, but we’ll try it.” 

“Of course this is the best method, I’m the one who came up with it!!! Now get out of here!! I need to fall asleep so the ghost will come by!!” Buggy’s hands shot across the room and pushed at Galdino’s shoulders. 

“Oh. I thought…well, right, of course…” Mr.3 stuttered, face bright red, tugging at his already open collar. He got to his feet and carefully made his way to the exit. He turned to face Buggy before he was fully out of the tent. “If you do catch something, let me know. It doesn’t matter if its late at night or early. I’ll be able to transport it.” 

“Yeah, yeah! I’ll call you! Now buzz off!” Buggy shoo’d him away, pushing him the rest of the way out of the tent and flopped back into bed. 

“Geez what a yapper.” Buggy muttered to himself, snuggling down into his fuzzy covers. 

Buggy had a good feeling about his plan, not only that, he felt safer with all these traps around him. After tonight, his ghost problems would be over!! 

… 

Pu-dup, pu-dup, pu-dup, pu-dup, pu-dup. 

Pu-dup, pu-dup, pu-dup, pu-dup, pu-dup. 

Crocodile threw out his hand and snatched up the snail-phone. 

Who the hell was calling him at three in the morning? 

“What?” He gruffed into the receiver, his eyes still closed. 

“Sorry to interrupt your rest, but I thought you should know there’s quite a commotion going on at the clown’s tent.” Mihawk’s smooth voice informed him. 

Crocodile’s brows furrowed. Why would he care about what’s happening at Buggy’s tent? As long as it didn’t affect him, it wasn’t his responsibility. 

Crocodile sat up anyway. 

“What do you mean by commotion?” 

“Apparently he’s stuck. Half the island is there, screaming about an assassination attempt. It’s quite loud. I’m surprised you can’t hear it.” Mihawk said, sounding bored. 

“You think someone tried to kill him?” Crocodile asked, putting the snail on his shoulder, lighting a cigar. 

“Hardly. If anything, he probably did it to himself. That being said, I don’t think it would hurt for us to make an appearance.” 

Crocodile mulled over his words. It would certainly look good for the both of them, would earn more favor from Buggy’s supporters, who were already skittish around him and Mihawk. 

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Crocodile sighed, hanging up and dropping the snail back onto his nightstand. He rubbed at his eyes, a headache beginning to form. Cross Guild was starting to become a lot more work than he anticipated. 

… 

Buggy wailed, his head bouncing around the wax cage. He could feel his body parts so close but he couldn’t call them back and it terrified him, made his panic leap tenfold. He sobbed, crying out for help, and he could hear voices, people yelling and calling out to him. It offered him no comfort, they couldn’t do anything about these cages! He needed Galdino! He cried out for him, hoping someone would get him and free him. 

Light began shining in, and Buggy flipped his head, watching as a hole began forming, the wax disintegrating before his eyes. 

“G-galdino?” Buggy asked, squinting against the sudden harsh light. A hand reached in and grabbed him by the hair, pulling him out. He was face to face with Crocodile, who looked furious, but was attempting to keep his composure. 

“CAPTAIN!!!!” His subordinates clamored for him, surging forward to try and see him, but Mihawk held them back. 

“Give him some space.” 

And the crowd of people pulled back, crying and hugging each other, thanking Mihawk and Crocodile. 

“What the hell did you do?” Crocodile hissed, quiet enough for only Buggy to hear, using his hook to hold Buggy as he disintegrated another cage, releasing one of Buggy’s feet. 

Buggy sniffed, wishing he had his hands to wipe his tears. “I-I was trying to catch the ghost!!” Buggy wailed, tears flowing. 

Crocodile paused and fixed him with a stare. “You can’t be serious.” 

Buggy’s bottom lip wobbled, answering Crocodile with a quiet “yeah…” 

“The only thing you managed to catch was yourself.” Crocodile muttered under his breath, releasing a part of Buggy’s torso. 

“Well, that wasn’t supposed to happen!! Galdino and me had a flashy plan!! I just forgot…” Buggy hesitated and looked off to the side, muttering the rest of his sentence out of the side of his mouth. 

“What was that?” Crocodile lifted Buggy to eye level and Buggy avoided his gaze, sweat gathering at his hairline. 

“I-I…well, I might have forgotten about the traps, and got scared when the first one fell…. and left the bed when I heard the ghost…” but then Buggy suddenly perked up. 

“Wait!!! That means the ghost in one of these cages!!!! Stop opening them!!!” 

Buggy wriggled away from Crocodile’s hook and zoomed around the room. He could feel his body parts, knew exactly which cages had him. And that meant he knew which cages were ‘empty.’ 

“Don’t open these cages!!” Buggy sat his head on one of the empty ones. 

Crocodile grit his teeth, his patience running thin. He didn’t say a word though, very aware of his audience. Crocodile opened the rest of the cages, until Buggy was back together. He left the others untouched, as requested. Buggy sighed in relief at having himself in one piece, feeling truly grateful Crocodile and Mihawk showed up to save him. 

“Thank you Croccy!!! My savior!!” Buggy wrapped his arms around Crocodile’s neck and hugged him tightly. Buggy could feel Crocodile tense underneath him but he didn’t throw him off like he normally would if they had been alone. His audience cheered and applauded, patting Crocodile, and Mihawk, on the back and offering handshakes as they left. Buggy was sure he’d hear an earful from them in the morning, but he’d worry about that later! For now, Buggy could call Galdino and get his ghost boxed up and out of his room!! 

… 

All of the cages were empty. Properly empty. Not even a rat, which would’ve been better than nothing. He and Mr.3 double checked every cage, triple checked!! But there was nothing inside, just air. 

Buggy felt defeated, blaming himself for triggering the boxes, for missing his chance to catch whatever was haunting him. He sighed dejectedly, resting his head on Galdino’s shoulder. 

Mr. 3 placed a hand on Buggy’s head, a mild attempt to comfort him. 

“Perhaps this ghost can change its form, become solid and transparent at will.” He offered, slowly undoing all of the wax as they sat on Buggy’s bed. 

Buggy looked up at him with large wet eyes, looking somewhat hopeful. “Yeah? You think so?” 

Mr.3’s cheeks turned pink and he looked straight ahead, “of course. And if that’s the case, my wax won’t be able to hold something like that.” He brought a hand to his chin in thought. 

“You may have to talk to an expert. Someone who has experience with ghosts.” Mr.3 nodded to himself, as if approving his own thoughts. 

“An expert? In ghosts?” Buggy pouted, sinking further against Galdino. 

“I-I’m sure there’s someone like that around here.” 

Buggy huffed, wrapping his arms around Mr.3, holding onto him as he thought about his words. He did have all kinds of people here, ones with some really unique backgrounds. He just had to find them. 

“I should get going.” Mr.3 whispered when he finished cleaning up all the wax, not moving. 

Buggy groaned and let go, falling back onto his squishy bed. 

“Fiiiiine!” He grumbled, wanting to stay here, but he had to meet with Crocodile and Mihawk soon. He was dreading it, this meeting, especially after last night… 

As soon as Buggy arrived to the meeting he got cut into pieces and lectured for about an hour. Needless to say he was in tears by the end but surprisingly Crocodile and Mihawk let him explain himself once they were done yelling at him. He put himself back together and explained his ghost problem. 

Crocodile scoffed. “You really thought setting up traps like that would help you capture a ghost? How stupid can you be?” 

Buggy bristled, swelling in his red outfit “Well, what would you have done!?” 

Crocodile got to his feet, matching Buggy’s height. “I would’ve laid my head back down and gone to sleep because ghosts. aren’t. real.” 

“Perona can create ghosts.” Mihawk added suddenly, making Crocodile and Buggy turn their heads to look at him. 

He just blinked slowly at them as they stared in silence. Crocodile rolled his eyes. “That’s a devil fruit ability, it doesn’t count.” 

“It does too!!” Buggy countered. He turned his attention to Mihawk, who still sat there watching them. “So you have experience with ghosts, Mihawk? Do you think you could help me out?” 

Mihawk leaned back in his seat, his fingers playing with the cross around his neck. “I have certainly experienced ghosts, but only from Perona’s ability.” Buggy’s face fell, but Mihawk continued. “But I have several books on the subject. Come by my home after dinner. I’ll have them ready for you.” 

Buggy perked back up, zooming over to Mihawk, hovering over him. “R-really?! I can come over right now!” 

Mihawk shook his head, pushing Buggy away with a single finger. “Tonight. I’ll need time to gather the materials.” 

Crocodile tsk’d, drawing the attention of both of them. “You can’t be seriously entertaining this.” He drawled, knowing Mihawk was not a joking man, but hoping that just this once he was. 

Mihawk stood from his seat and gave Crocodile a small smile. “We live in a strange world, Crocodile.” He tipped his hat and left, Buggy zooming around the room, leaving Crocodile irritated, chewing at his cigar. 

… 

Walking into Mihawk’s home felt chilling, like he was going through a haunted house, and Buggy was starting to second guess asking Mihawk for advice. The hallways were dark, narrow, and he trailed behind Mihawk as close as he dared, his hand clutching onto his coattail. 

“My library.” Mihawk said suddenly, opening a door, making Buggy squeak in surprise, his hands grabbing onto Mihawk’s arm. With both of Buggy’s hands hanging off of him, he held out his arm for Buggy, bidding him to enter first. 

“You’re quite jumpy. Perhaps a glass of wine to soothe your nerves?” Mihawk offered, picking off Buggy’s hands like they were a piece of lint. Buggy took a few steps into the space, relaxing only slightly at the sunset glowing through the large windows behind an ornate wooden desk. 

“Y-yeah. I’ll take a glass.” Buggy sat down on one of the armchairs near the desk, glancing around the room, fear making way for curiosity. It was certainly a library; floor to ceiling bookshelves lined each wall, all organized in a system Buggy would mess up if he was in charge. 

Mihawk handed him a glass of wine, the bottle seemingly appearing out from under the desk, along with two wineglasses. Buggy didn’t question it, just gulped down the drink like it was juice. 

Mihawk gave him a look of distaste but didn’t say anything, sipping from his own glass and leaning back in his chair. 

“Crocodile was sparing with the details, so I’d like to hear from the horse’s mouth, as it were, what exactly you’ve been experiencing.” His eyes were intense, practically glowing and it put Buggy ill at ease. He took another gulp of wine and clutched the glass in his hands. Mihawk was always scary looking, he tried to reason to himself, no need to be intimidated! 

Buggy took a deep breath and gave Mihawk a detailed re-counting of his sleepless nights, of being haunted by a sound that wakes him, but has no source. Mihawk listened patiently, nodding along, his face thoughtful as Buggy described his reasoning behind the traps he set up with Mr.3. 

“That logic was flawed from the get-go. One does not need physical form to create sound. Thunder claps and wind howls, but it cannot be captured.” 

“Well! I know that now!!” Buggy grumbled, crossing his arms, his face warming from embarrassment. 

“I think you’ll find the information in these books useful. I’ve marked a few pages specifically related to ghosts and their expulsion.” Mihawk pushed the pile of books across the desk. Buggy hopped up from his seat and snatched up the first book from the pile. 

“Alas, I did not come across any information about capturing a ghost. I would’ve liked to see your little spectre.” Mihawk said wistfully, thumb and finger brushing over his goatee. 

“Hah! Spend a night in my room and you just might!” Buggy commented off-handed, his attention absorbed by the drawings and words on the pages. 

Buggy went right to the page that Mihawk marked in this book. It had some interesting information, stuff he never would’ve thought about. Using holy power to expel something demonic. Of course! He needed water and salt and some crosses and statues and maybe even one or two religious fellas, the kind that wore special outfits. 

“I accept.” Mihawk answered and Buggy didn’t even register the words, still wrapped up in all the new information he was absorbing. But he realized Mihawk said something and he lifted his head, hoping he would repeat himself. 

“Huh? Whadya say?” Buggy’s brow furrowed, his brain trying to put together the words he just heard. 

“I accept your offer. I’ll stay in your room tonight. I’d like a chance to see this ghost.” Mihawk explained, leaning back in his chair, steepling his fingers. 

Buggy felt like he missed something. When in the hell did he ask Mihawk to spend the night!? Just as he was about to tell him no, a little light went on in his brain. Mihawk is powerful enough to destroy just about anyone. Or anything! And he’s offering to basically be your bodyguard for the night!!! Take the offer, stupid!! 

“When should I expect you?” Buggy asked, closing the book with a snap, knowing in the back of his mind he’d have to scramble to clean up his messy room. (Messy! Not filthy!! He didn’t have rats!!!) 

… 

Crocodile knew it was last minute, but he’d finished the last of the zucchini bread Mihawk made and he had gotten so used to having a slice after dinner with his coffee that he was feeling its absence. So, after nibbling on a few things to try and stave off the craving with no success, he, begrudgingly, made the easy walk to Mihawk’s house and knocked on the door. Hopefully he had an extra loaf or perhaps some other baked good he’d be willing to part with. Although, he knew Hawkeye’s zucchini crop has been doing well, so no doubt he has the materials to make it even if he didn’t have any bread on hand. How difficult is it to make zucchini bread anyway? … … … 

Crocodile looked at his watch, and knocked again, lost in thought about bread… … … 

What the hell is taking Mihawk so long??? 

Crocodile knocked again, louder, trying the handle. Locked. Mihawk was always home at this time of night. It was the time of day he took to unwind, part of his routine before going to bed. If he wasn’t here…then where else could he be? 

Crocodile returned home and grabbed his snail-phone, calling up one of his most reliable sources of information: Daz, who gave him a surprisingly detailed account of what occurred between Buggy and Mihawk in his home. How in the world does he get this info? Crocodile shook his head, dismissing his thought. Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to. 

Crocodile stormed out of his home, his long strides taking him quickly to Buggy’s tent. Of all places! Of all people! He can’t believe Mihawk got sucked into Buggy’s nonsense about ghosts! The whole island may be going along with Buggy’s insanity, but he would not!  

He hesitated at the entrance to Buggy’s tent, annoyed that he didn’t have a door like a normal person. He really wanted to pound his fist against something right now. He stood there fuming for a few seconds, unsure how to approach the situation. When did he become so rash and careless? That stupid clown was rubbing off on him. He grabbed a cigar from his coat pocket and brought it to his mouth, looking for a lighter while he held it in his teeth. 

“Here.” A hand appeared, a lighter with a green flame held out before him. 

“Thanks.” Crocodile leaned toward the flame, puffing a few times to get the cigar started. And then he jolted, realizing Mihawk stood beside him. 

“Where the hell did you come from?” He gruffed, irritated at being caught off guard. 

“I was reclining in Buggy’s bed, reading, when I sensed you. You seemed agitated, so I came here to check on you.” Mihawk answered easily, tucking the lighter into a heavy looking robe, his chest exposed, as it often was. But Crocodile noted he wore soft looking lounge pants. He really was spending the night with Buggy, wasn’t he? 

Crocodile wanted to snap at him, but he had to maintain his composure, to match Mihawk’s energy. But this whole thing was just absurd. 

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to help the clown catch his ghost?” Crocodile sneered. 

“Oh no, nothing like that.” Mihawk waved his hand as if dismissing the idea. 

That did not make Crocodile feel any better. Why didn’t he feel better? So was Mihawk just sleeping in Buggy’s bed…for what? He felt surge of…jealousy. And it made Crocodile sick to his stomach with the realization. 

“No, I simply wish to see the ghost, if it is indeed real.” Mihawk added, looking up at Crocodile. 

Oh. So he was here for the ghost. And not for… well it didn’t matter. 

“Of course you are. What you’re doing is absurd, but I can’t stop you.” Crocodile puffed at his cigar, breathing out a long stream of smoke. Really, he was hoping to see Buggy and rough him up a bit for inconveniencing him. That always made him feel a little better, bullying the clown. 

“I just came by to see if you had anymore zucchini bread.” Crocodile asked, pulling the cigar from his mouth and flicking off the ashes, trying to seem casual. 

“Oh yes. I have quite a bit. It’s in my freezer.” Mihawk reached into the pocket of his robe but both of them whipped around to the entrance of Buggy’s tent as they heard him scream. 

“Mihawk!!! Where are you?!?? Oh my GOD the ghost took him!!!! Crocodile’s going to kill meeee!!!!” They could hear Buggy sobbing and both of them rushed into the tent to see Buggy clutching the book Mihawk was reading to his chest, his head thrown back as he cried. 

Crocodile crunched into his cigar at the sight, irritated on so many levels; His stupid dramatics, his obvious anguish at losing Mihawk, his rightful fear of Crocodile. All of it just pissed him off. 

Mihawk walked around the room, as if looking for something. 

“It would seem I was away when the ghost appeared.” He said, sounding mildly disappointed. Buggy turned to Mihawk and shrieked, throwing the book at Mihawk and scrambled backward. 

“What the HELL is going on!?” Buggy had a dagger pointed toward Mihawk, a pillow held tightly to his bare chest. 

“I stepped away for a moment to chat with Crocodile and apparently I missed the ghost.” He said with a sigh, sitting down on the bed. Buggy’s head swiveled around, eyes widening when he saw Crocodile, just now realizing he was in the room. 

Crocodile continued to observe, smoke trailing from his lips. He felt a kind of satisfaction at Buggy being so wary of Mihawk. 

“S-so you’re Mihawk and not the ghost?” Buggy asked, his hand trembling as he held out the dagger. 

Mihawk raised an eyebrow but just nodded and said “Indeed. I am not the ghost.” 

Buggy threw away the dagger and pillow and lunged at Mihawk, hugging him tightly. Mihawk seemed mildly confused, and had a light blush on his cheeks, but seemed otherwise unperturbed. 

“I thought the ghost got you!! Why did you leave?? You scared me!!” Buggy wailed, rubbing his tears and snot into the arm of Mihawk’s robe. 

Crocodile nearly snapped into his cigar, his teeth gritting so hard at Buggy’s pathetic and shameless display. That creeping feeling of jealousy roared to life at the sight of Buggy holding onto Mihawk. He swore he saw Mihawk’s golden eyes glimmer at him before he returned his attention to Buggy, petting his head in comfort. 

“It was not my intention to frighten you. But do you think me so weak? I certainly hope I would put up more of a fight, in such a case.” He gave Buggy a small smile, and Buggy just held him tighter, babbling apologies. Pathetic. 

“If there’s no danger, I’m leaving.” Crocodile grumbled, turning away from the disgusting obvious affection the two shared. He’d seen enough. Damn that Mihawk. He didn’t realize it until this moment, but he wished he hadn’t turned Buggy away that first night. He just caught him at a bad time, tired and frustrated with his mountain of paperwork. Maybe things would’ve gone differently if he had pretended to take Buggy seriously. Maybe Buggy would be clinging onto him, grateful for his presence, squeezing him tightly with his weak little arms. Stupid clown. He didn’t need Buggy. 

… 

The sleepover with Mihawk was a bust. In fact it left him even more stressed out because he kept waking up to double check that he was there. Mihawk decided to spend the rest of the night there, still hoping to catch sight of the ghost, but nothing happened. And Buggy was left exhausted and still being haunted!! Buggy definitely heard the ghost last night!! He needed to try the stuff from the books Mihawk gave him. He’d gather the materials today and create a super flashy anti-ghost sleeping space!! 

By evening he managed to get most of what he was looking for, except the religious fellas with the special outfits. He did get a few offers from people who had said outfits, but they were just costumes. Which meant they didn’t have the power to expel demons or whatever so he didn’t take them up on it. 

He put on an iron necklace, covered his bed in salt, put an iron dagger under his bed, burned sage, said some words in a language he didn’t understand and sprinkled holy water on his pillow and around his bed. 

Sleeping in his salty bed and pressing his face into his damp pillow wasn’t exactly comfortable, and the smell of the sage just made him hungry. He had a pretty hard time falling asleep but eventually he managed, sinking into his grainy bed. 

… 

THUMP 

Buggy twitched in his sleep. He turned over, his hand brushing over grainy sheets, his dreams turning to images of the beach. 

THUMP 

Buggy clutched the sheets, his eyes shooting open. He laid there, heart beating wildly in his chest, waiting. 

THUMP 

Buggy clutched the cross around his neck and scrambled for the iron dagger under his pillow, unable to feel it. 

THUMP 

It was right next to him and Buggy shrieked, rolling away from the sound, getting twisted up in his blankets, falling to the floor. 

This anti-ghost shit wasn’t working!!! Buggy frantically clawed his way out of his blankets, stumbling onto his feet, trying to regain his balance. He could feel it, the presence in his room, looming behind him. He didn’t dare look back, running out of his tent as soon as he got his feet under him. 

There was no way in hell he was sticking around!! He hurried to Mihawk’s house, bare feet slapping against dirt and grass before hitting flat stone. He was nearly there when a large figure approached from the corner of his eye. He stopped short, freezing in place, slowly turning his head to the huge shadow slowly slinking from the darkness. 

“Ghost troubles again, clown?” A deep voice rumbled and Buggy caught a whiff of cigar smoke. 

He sighed in relief, pressing a hand to his chest. Crocodile stepped into view under a street lamp, looking tired, his hook covered in blood. 

“Wh-why is there blood? What were you doing!?” Buggy stuttered, pointing a trembling finger at him. 

Crocodile smirked and blew out a long plume of smoke. “It’s late, let’s talk inside.” He ushered Buggy to his home, his large hand on his shoulder, comfortingly warm against his chilled bare skin. But Buggy was still on edge, jumping at every little sound and touch. What if Crocodile was going to use that hook on him next!? Maybe he should just politely slip away and knock on Mihawk’s door. 

Before he knew it was was pushed onto Crocodile’s couch, a glass of whiskey pushed into his hand. Crocodile sat in his large armchair, taking a sip from his own glass. He used a handkerchief to wipe down his hook. He looked relaxed, bored, not paying much attention to Buggy as he rubbed away spots of dried blood. 

Buggy just sat there, hunched over and shivering, his legs pressed together, his glass of whiskey cupped in both hands on his thighs. There was no way he could drink alcohol right now, his stomach clenched with nerves, too volatile to accept anything so hard and acidic. He glanced up at Crocodile. 

“D-do you have any tea?” He asked quietly. 

Crocodile paused his cleaning and he looked Buggy up and down. 

“I don’t drink tea. Only coffee.” He answered, continuing to clean his hook. 

“Oh. Ok.” Buggy traced the rim of the glass with his thumb. Maybe just a sip wouldn’t hurt. 

Crocodile stood and took off his hook, something Buggy had never seen before. He tried not to stare but he couldn’t help himself. Crocodile had his sleeve folded over his arm, the extra fabric falling loose as it came free from the hook. He set down the hook on his desk and removed his coat, returning to Buggy. He stopped in front of him and Buggy stared up, shrinking slightly, unsure if he did something wrong. Crocodile placed the coat around his shoulders and took the glass of whiskey from him. 

Buggy was in shock. Did he die? Why was Crocodile being so nice to him?! Whatever the reason, Buggy wasn’t going to complain right now. His coat was so thick and cozy, still warm from Crocodile’s body heat. Buggy pulled the heavy coat tighter around himself, the fluffy collar tickling his face. It smelled like Crocodile, like cigar smoke, spicy and strong, and his cologne, fresh and masculine, and his hair product, light and mildly floral. Buggy breathed in deeply, nuzzling his face in the soft fur. 

“You’re not wearing your little sleeping hat.” Crocodile commented, removing his ascot and unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt, a thin gold chain gleaming against pale skin and sparse dark hair. 

Buggy watched him with wide eyes, his mind bouncing around at all these new sights Crocodile was showing him. He wore a necklace!? Buggy never knew that! What did it mean? Wait, Crocodile said something to him. 

Buggy’s hand went to his hair when he processed Crocodile’s comment. Just his messy hair, unbrushed and sticking out, loose over his shoulders and back. How had he not noticed. 

“It must’ve fallen off when I rolled off the bed.” Buggy murmured, tucking his hair behind his ears. 

“Your ghost made you roll off the bed?” Crocodile asked with a derisive smile. 

“It didn’t make me! I had to! It was right next to me!! It would’ve killed me!!” Buggy insisted defensively. 

Crocodile scoffed. “Your ghost hasn’t laid a finger on you this whole time, has it?” 

Buggy flushed, his body breaking apart under Crocodile’s coat, filling the empty spaces and making himself big, hovering above his seat. 

“That’s not the point! It’s still tormenting me!” 

“Is that why you were wandering around outside, past midnight, half naked?” Crocodile asked, his eyes dancing with amusement.  

“I! I wasn’t wandering! I was going to Mihawk’s house! Because unlike you, he believes me!” Buggy crossed his arms, turning his back to Crocodile. “Speaking of which! I should get going! Mihawk’ll be able to help me!” Buggy flipped his hair and started shrugging off Crocodile’s big warm coat. 

Crocodile grabbed his arm, preventing him from taking off the coat and Buggy turned his head to look at him in question. 

“Don’t bother Mihawk. You can spend the night here.” Crocodile said, his words so final, it felt less like an offer and more like a command. 

“Really?” Buggy looked up at him in awe. “Does that mean you believe me?” 

Crocodile frowned, sliding his coat back onto Buggy’s shoulders. 

“No.” Crocodile answered so firmly it left no room for argument. Buggy frowned still wanting to respond but got distracted as Crocodile pushed his hand against Buggy’s back, walking him to the door. He turned out the lights to his office, dropping them into darkness. “Let’s get ready for bed.” 

Buggy stumbled through the dark, Crocodile leading him through the hallway to a doorway that had French doors. Crocodile pushed them open and nudged Buggy forward, flicking on a lamp. Everything in the room was cool, sleek, dark furniture with leather and gold. The lighting was warm, but dimmed, making the space feel quiet, smaller. Buggy was too afraid to touch anything, everything seemed expensive and breakable. There was an armchair, a small table, an armoire, a dresser, and a bed large enough to comfortably fit two Crocodiles. The bed took up most of the space in the room and Buggy glanced back at Crocodile who put out his cigar in an ashtray on his beside table. 

“If you need to use the bathroom it’s through that door. Otherwise you can lie down.” Crocodile said, sitting down in the armchair and sliding off his shoes. Buggy nodded and hesitantly climbed onto the bed, unsure if Crocodile meant he was supposed to lay down here or somewhere else. It’s not like there was really anywhere else anyway. But he moved slowly just in case Crocodile told him off. 

But Crocodile said nothing, continuing to undress, unbuttoning his shirt, exposing the white tank top he wore underneath. 

Buggy swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, unable to take his eyes off of Crocodile’s chest. He was so large, thick, his pecs jiggling with the movements from his arms. Crocodile undid his cuffs and slid the shirt off, dropping it into a hamper. He undid the belt to his pants, curling it up like a snake and placed it in a box in his armoire. He took off his pants, exposing his dark soft looking briefs and pallid muscular legs covered in dark black hair. Buggy had to stifle a giggle at seeing the little sock garters that Crocodile had around his shins. He removed both of them, folding the straps and setting them in a box next to the belt. He removed his socks and put them in the hamper, along with his pants. He took off each ring and set them down on one of the bedside tables. 

Buggy had never seen so much skin from Crocodile. He couldn’t help himself, his eyes eating up every little detail of his body. Crocodile removed his tank top and Buggy sucked in a breath, his thick muscled body had long scars across his chest that went over his side and to his back. Scars similar to the one across his face. Crocodile glanced at him at Buggy’s face heated, looking away as soon as their eyes met. 

Crocodile huffed and went into the bathroom. Buggy slid off Crocodile’s coat and dropped it to the floor, flipping open the heavy quilted comforter. The sheets weren’t smooth or fluffy like Buggy’s, more starchy and cool like cotton or linen. How boring. And he didn’t have enough pillows! Crocodile had two pillows on each side of the bed. That was not enough for Buggy! He had to have at least five! Two for his head, one behind him, one in front of him, and one to hold in his arms while he slept on his side! How could Crocodile sleep like this? Buggy snuggled down into the bed, the feeling of the sheets scratchy against his bare skin. He huffed and tried to move around, feeling tiny in Crocodile’s oversized bed. Everything here was too big! The pillows were overly large and tall underneath his head he couldn’t lie down flat, he was practically sitting up. Buggy frowned, turning to the pillows to adjust them. He punched them a few times but nothing happened, their shape returning exactly to how they were. Buggy grumbled to himself and took the one pillow and put it behind him turning on his side but he didn’t have his hugging pillow so he laid on his back instead. Crocodile came out from the bathroom smelling like toothpaste and mouthwash, walking over to his dresser. He put on a pair of linen lounge pants and a matching long sleeved sleep shirt. Buggy watched, trying to be subtle about it, peeking over the covers. 

Who the hell wore that many clothes to bed!? No wonder he didn’t have soft sheets!! He wouldn’t be able to feel them with an outfit like that!! 

Crocodile turned to the bed and Buggy ducked down, his eyes looking over the covers. Crocodile flipped open his side of the blankets, slid in, then turned out the light. 

It was pitch black in the room. No fairy lights, no lanterns, no moonlight or streetlights, just darkness. It made the air feel heavy, and Buggy squirmed in bed, his hands subtly searching to re-locate his pillows, despite him still touching them. Crocodile turned in bed, got comfortable and remained still, quiet. 

But each minute in this darkness just put Buggy further and further on edge, until he was trembling and sweating, thinking he was seeing things move in the darkness. 

“Why are you moving so much?” Crocodile grunted, turning in bed, maybe toward him?  

“I can’t see anything and it’s freaking me out.” Buggy whispered, his hands gripping the blankets hard enough make his hands ache. 

Crocodile sighed and Buggy yelped when he felt his hand on him, pulling him closer. Buggy’s heart beat quickly, but as soon as Crocodile held him against his chest, he started to calm down. 

“Are you just now telling me you’re afraid of the dark?” Crocodile’s voice rumbled through his chest, loud in Buggy’s ear. 

Buggy looked up at Crocodile, or at least tried to, but he couldn’t exactly see him. 

“I-I’m not afraid of the dark!! Your room is just pitch black!! I can’t even see the fingers in front of my face!” Buggy said indignantly, pushing a finger into, what Buggy assumed, was Crocodile’s chest. 

Crocodile sighed in a long suffering way and turned away from Buggy moving off the bed. 

“W-wait! Where are you going!?” Buggy frantically pawed at the space Crocodile left, trying to see if he could pull him back somehow. 

Suddenly moonlight flooded into the room, the glow of the streetlights casting shadows over everything. 

“Better?” Crocodile asked, standing beside a window, the curtains pulled back. 

Buggy sighed in relief, the outline of Crocodile now obvious to him, his body washed in moonlight. 

“Yeah. Thanks, Croccy.” Buggy snuggled down into bed once more, the bed dipping as Crocodile rejoined him. 

“You’re a lot of work, you know that?” Crocodile complained, turning onto his side, looking at Buggy. 

Buggy could actually see him now, just an arms length away. Buggy gave him a bashful smile and crawled over, wrapping his arms around Crocodile the best he could and hugged him tightly. 

“I’m sorry!! Thank you for being so nice to me.” Buggy pressed his face into Crocodile’s neck and he could feel his Adam’s apple bob. “Even though you don’t believe in my ghost.” Buggy mumbled into his skin. 

Crocodile scoffed, his hand lightly tugged Buggy’s hair. “You owe me for entertaining you like this. I can add it to your debt if you’d like.” He teased. 

“Crocodile!! Don’t be mean!! My ghost tried to kill me tonight and I can’t pay back a debt if I’m dead!!” Buggy whined, pushing against Crocodile’s chest. 

Crocodile chuckled, his fingers still playing in Buggy’s hair. Buggy stilled, in shock once again from Crocodile. He’s never made Crocodile genuinely laugh before. The only time Crocodile laughed was at him, usually when he was getting bullied. Buggy smiled, warmth blooming in his chest. Crocodile had a nice laugh when it wasn’t being directed derisively at him. 

“I think the only thing that could kill you in that room would be the rats.” Crocodile smirked. 

“I DON’T HAVE RATS!!” Buggy cried, pushing Crocodile onto his back, pinning him down, straddling his waist. Crocodile laughed a little harder, his hand moving to hold Buggy’s hip. Buggy was jostled by Crocodile’s laughter and he couldn’t help but laugh lightly himself, holding onto Crocodile’s shoulders. Crocodile’s thumb stroked the top of his thigh, his touch warm, gentle. 

Buggy stared down at him, a curtain of blue hair narrowing their vision to one another. Crocodile’s eyes glimmered in amusement, a soft smile on his handsome lips. 

Wait. Handsome? Sure he looked big and tough and powerful, but…  

Buggy sat back, his fingers tracing the lines and buttons of Crocodile’s sleep shirt. Maybe he was a little handsome. He does have a nice body…and he takes care of himself… he has a nice laugh, a pretty smile and soft looking lips. Buggy’s fingers mindlessly trailed the skin on Crocodile’s neck, up to his jaw, tracing his lips. 

Crocodile’s lips parted slightly, his hot breath washing over Buggy’s fingers. He had to stop, because he was about to stick his fingers in his mouth and Crocodile would kick his ass if he did that! Buggy slid off of Crocodile, his heart fluttering, face warm and palms sweaty. What was going on!? Why did Crocodile even let him do all of that?! 

“S-sorry. We should, um, go to sleep. G’night!” Buggy stuttered out, turning his back to Crocodile, and bringing the covers over his head. Gahhh!! Why was he feeling like this!? His mind couldn’t stop racing. 

Crocodile sighed and shuffled in bed. “Good night, Buggy.” 

Buggy laid there for what felt like hours, replaying his evening with Crocodile. The feeling of his coat, his smell, watching him undress, laughing with him, feeling his skin, his breath. All of this played in an endless loop, his stomach swooping when he thought about touching Crocodile’s lips, about Crocodile’s hand in his hair, on his thigh. His skin tingled from his head to his toes, and he felt a kind of giddiness, making him squirm in bed, unable to sleep. 

Crocodile put a hand on his waist and he froze, heart jumping to his throat. He pulled him back, until he was flush with his chest, holding him tightly. 

“Stop moving. Go to sleep.” Crocodile gruffed. 

“S-sorry! Ok!” Buggy tensed, his back straight as a board. How was he supposed to sleep now!? But as he felt Crocodile’s even breathing, the weight of his hand on him, his strong heartbeat thumping through him, he was lulled to sleep. 

… 

There was something moving in the room. Crocodile could feel it even from his deep sleep, the movement tickling the back of his neck. He opened his eyes, looking around, not yet moving, loathe to do so now that Buggy was snuggled so comfortably into his chest. He would kill whoever was stupid enough to come into his room and interrupt his sleep, especially when he had a guest. His haki told him that whatever was in here was small, almost like a bird, but just floating around. Some kind of ability from a devil fruit user? Was someone trying to spy on him? 

THUMP 

It ran into the wall. So, it couldn’t see? What would be the point of that if it was a spy? 

THUMP 

Buggy jolted, gasping, his eyes flying open. Crocodile looked down at him in question. 

THUMP 

“It’s the ghost!! It’s here!!” Buggy whispered frantically, pressing himself into Crocodile. Crocodile shot out an arm using his sand to grab the object. He pulled it to himself, sitting up, holding it in his hand. 

“Buggy, turn on the light.” He told him, his voice gravelly from sleep. 

The light flicked on, both of them squinting from the sudden brightness. Crocodile blinked down at the object in his hand. 

“Is it the ghost!? Did you catch it!?” Buggy asked anxiously, leaning over to get a peek. 

 Well it definitely wasn’t a ghost. Crocodile looked up at him, blank faced. 

“Wh-what is it!?” Buggy sat back, leaning away from Crocodile’s open hand as if it would suddenly jump out and grab him. 

He held it up between his thumb and pointer finger. 

“Ewww!! Is that a spider!?” Buggy panicked, backing up even further. 

Crocodile grit his teeth and tossed it at Buggy, who shrieked and squirmed away. 

“You idiot! It’s your hand!” He snapped. 

Buggy paused and held up his arms, noticing that he only had one hand attached to him. The other laid before him and he called it back, re-attaching it to his arm. He stretched his fingers and made a fist. 

“Huh. It feels like it fell asleep.” Buggy commented, shaking his hand. His brow furrowed as he tried to wake up his hand and Crocodile felt like he was ready to strangle Buggy. 

“Buggy.” He growled and Buggy’s head shot up to look at him, trepidation clear in his face at Crocodile’s tone. 

“You’ve been crying about being haunted, causing trouble for everyone on the island, myself included, and the entire time, your fake ghost was your disembodied hand?” Crocodile bit out, the vein in his forehead pulsing. 

Buggy shrank away from him, holding out his hands, looking terrified and sheepish. “N-now, wait! I didn’t know I was the cause! And it’s not like I was making up the ghost or anything! Something was bothering me!! A-and look at that, you helped me solve my ghost problem!!! Thank you, Croccy!” Buggy nervously babbled, forcing a cheerful tone. 

This idiot clown was going to put him in an early grave. What kind of moron gets scared awake by his own hand and doesn’t even realize it? He should beat him for being so stupid. Was Buggy was cute enough to deal with his bullshit? He took a deep breath, rubbing his hand over his face. He peeked at Buggy through his fingers; Buggy looked up at him with shining eyes, near tears, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, his hands twisting in his lap. Crocodile grit his teeth and ran his fingers through his hair. Unfortunately, Buggy was cute enough. But he’d most certainly be punishing him later. Right now he was too tired to deal with Buggy’s nonsense. 

“Just turn out the light. We can discuss this in the morning.” Crocodile sighed, climbing under the covers once more. 

Buggy did as he was told, staying silent the whole time, moving slowly as if worried that any sudden movement or sound would change Crocodile’s mind. He laid still and flat on his back, the covers pulled up to his chin. 

Oh no. That wouldn’t do. Buggy was in his bed and he would be enjoying every moment of it, especially if Buggy was going to cause him trouble. He pulled Buggy to his chest, holding him close. Every time he felt Buggy’s warm body against him, smelled his sweet fruity shampoo, put his bare hand on Buggy’s naked waist, his heart fluttered and his stomach swooped. He would never admit it out loud but there was no way he was going to let anyone else sleep with Buggy.  

“Are you mad at me?” Buggy asked quietly into his chest, looking up at Crocodile. Stupid sweet pathetic clown. Every time Buggy looked up at him like that he just wanted to take a bite out of him, wanted to squeeze his cheeks until his pink lips pushed out. 

“No.” He lied, his fingers playing with Buggy’s soft hair. Buggy turned toward him, his hands on his chest, looking up at him hopefully. 

“Really?” He asked, eyes shining. 

“Yes.” He lied again, his heart skipping a beat. “Now go to sleep. We have work to do in the morning.” He slid down and kissed the top of Buggy’s head, curling his arm around him to hold him close. Buggy sighed in relief and snuggled into his chest. There was no way he’d let Buggy go. 

[osamusriceballs]

24 hours of Christmas <3

Different haikyuu characters x reader

Warnings: None

Words: ~ 2,8 k

A/n: 24 different haikyuu characters and each will get a ~100 words drabble about how they spend Christmas with you! All soft and gender neutral I think (tell me if I missed something though), no warnings here! <3

5:00 am - Ushijima

"Toshi?"

You sleepily reach for him and grab his shirt. He pauses and turns to you, just a dark silhouette in the dimly lit room.

"Go back to sleep, y/n. I'll be back when you wake up." He talks lowly, but his deep voice still fills the room in a comforting way. Reassuringly, he grabs your hand, and his thumb rubs circles on the back of your hand. "I thought you'd stay with me. It's Christmas." He hesitates and thinks about this for a second. Then, you feel the bed dip under his weight, and he pulls your body against his. "You're right. I should take a rest day. And it's Christmas." He maneuvers your body until your back presses against his chest, his warmth making you feel comforted instantly. His body entangled with yours, that's how you fall asleep again with a content smile on your face.

6:00 am - Yamaguchi

Craftsmen start their days early.

And craftsmen also work on holidays.

Two things that you had to get used to after dating Yamaguchi Tadashi for years now. Your boyfriend has to work the early Christmas shift today, which is not surprising to you.

What you didn't expect, though, was to find a fully decorated table with breakfast and a sweet note when you wake up too. "Merry Christmas! I'll miss you today, my love! Enjoy your present and breakfast and wait for me until I'm home - I want to spend the day with you <3"

7:00 am - Tendou

"Babe," he grins while he presses a kiss against your lips. You can taste the chocolate on his lips; he probably stole a bit or two while preparing all the Christmas cakes at work. "Satori, why do you still have so much energy? You probably worked 8 hours non-stop." You sleepily smile back and grab his shirt weakly to pull him in for another kiss. "The thought of coming back to you filled me with energy. Wanna spend the day with you and watch cheesy Christmas movies. I have a list of the most trashy romances. Wanna get started now?"

You groan and rub your eyes. "Maybe just a short nap? And then we can get started?"

"Okay, babe. But I might eat your special Christmas cake while you sleep." He grins mischievously, and you gasp while you hastily push back the blanket and chase him to the kitchen.

"Don't you dare!"

8:00 am - Hinata

"Shoyo," you giggle while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, feeling his soft hair tickling your cheek. "I don't wanna get up, y/n. Let's stay in bed a bit longer."

"You told me that there is a Christmas volleyball match. You told me it's a great idea to go there." You softly laugh when he whines while he keeps you from getting up. "I know. But maybe it's a bad idea. Maybe we should just stay here." You know that he's not serious, so you decide to play into his game. "Yes, Tobio can tell us about it later, huh?" Hinata raises his head instantly. "No way! Y/n, we need to go. Come!" He gently grabs your hands and directs you to the bathroom, and you let him lead you with a smile.

9:00 am - Nishinoya

"Look at this!" He excitedly points towards a dolphin, and you quickly snap a picture with your camera. "I got it, Yuu!"

If somebody had told you that you would spend Christmas in the middle of nowhere in the ocean, you would have laughed. But here you are, with only Nishinoya Yuu and more fish than you could ever count around you- and you actually couldn't be happier. "Do you want to go diving later? I have all the equipment for us." You grin and nod enthusiastically.

"That sounds great!"

10 am - Tsukishima

"Did you see my glasses, y/n?"

"I didn't- wait, I got them." You fish for them on the table, and he stands perfectly still while you place them on his nose. You smile and press a quick peck to his lips, ignoring his playful snicker after the action. "I should probably get a new pair anyway. My eyes got worse lately." He sighs, and you grin mischievously.

"Maybe you'll get a new pair from Santa tonight? Do you think you've been a good boy?"

He rolls his eyes, and you whine when he squinches your cheeks. "Careful, or else you will not get anything from Santa this year too."

You freeze at his words, thinking about the beautifully wrapped gift that you have spotted under the tree.

"I'm sorry, Kei! Please forgive me! Hey, don't walk away. KEI!"

11:00 am - Sugawara

"Did you-"

"Yes, I put the salad in the car already. We're ready, y/n, don't worry." He looks fondly at you, and you embarrassedly rub the back of your neck. "I just want it all to be perfect."

"I know." He caresses your cheek and looks into your eyes. "And it will be perfect. As long as we're together, it will always be." You nod and place your hand over his, feeling his warmth against your cheek. "Let's go then?"

His hand moves to your hand and grabs it gently.

"Let's go."

12:00 pm - Oikawa

"How does it feel?"

"How does what feel?"

"Knowing that you'll get the perfect present tonight?" Oikawa smiles, and you pretend to think hard for a second.

"I don't know. You tell me?" His eyes widen, surprised, and then he laughs happily. "I can't even fight with that. You always have the best presents for me."

You playfully puff your chest, and he laughs even louder.

"That's why I love you, y/n."

"I love you too, Tooru."

1:00 pm - Kageyama

"Tobio, can you help me with the dress?"

"Yes." You hear him yell, and after a few moments, you find your handsome boyfriend in a suit right behind you. He is quick to move behind you and to close the zipper of your dress, his hands warm and skillful as he makes sure not to twist the zipper in the process.

He looks at you when he finishes, and his gaze softens.

"You look amazing, y/n."

"You too." You smile, and he leans down to peck your lips quickly.

"Let's go then?"

2:00 pm - Bokuto

His hand grabs yours firmly, and you thankfully scoot closer to him. He wraps an arm around you, and you feel warmer instantly. "You okay, baby?" You nod and smile at him, and he grins almost blindingly at you. "You look so cute, baby. With your cap and your scarf." He pecks your lips, and you grab his hand a bit tighter, already getting flustered.

"We have to hurry, though. Or else we'll be late at my sister's." He pouts cutely, and you quickly peck his lips to cheer him up - successfully. "Don't worry. We'll be on time for the Christmas dinner."

He nods at your reassurance and wraps his arm around you, and you cuddle against him while you both enjoy each other's near.

3:00 pm - Akaashi

"Keiji?" "Hmm?" he hums and raises his gaze. "You're reading a Christmas story, right?" He nods, his eyes following you curiously when you simply lay down on the couch and rest your head on his lap.

"Do you want to read it to me?"

He smiles and caresses your cheeks lovingly. "It's a funny Christmas story, actually. It needs a bit of proofreading, that's for sure, but it has potential."

You smile at him, leaning your face into his palm.

"Sounds good. Read to me then?"

"Yes, my love."

4:00 pm - Osamu

His arms wrap around you, and you smile when you feel his chest pressing against your back.

"What's my lovely wife doing here? Smells delicious." He buries his nose in your hair, and you smile while you pat his hand on your stomach.

"Just some Christmas cookies. Do you want to help me with the frosting?"

"Hmm." He nods but makes no attempt to move but continues to hold you. "Samu?"

"Just a little bit longer. Missed ya all day." He tilts your cheek and presses a slow, loving kiss against your lips, and you happily return it.

5:00 pm - Aran

"Have you seen the-"

He stops mid-sentence when he sees you with his Christmas-themed tie. You shake your head with a smile while you come closer to help him with it. "I can't believe you're actually wearing it. It's a fashion crime."

He sighs, his eyes closing for a short second while he probably regrets ever having met the Miya twins. "I'm sorry, love. It's just one night. I'll never wear it again. We can burn it after that."

You softly laugh and rest your hands on his broad chest after you finished fixing the tie. "It's okay. I will not leave you because of a piece of cloth. No matter how ugly it is." You scrunch your nose when you look at the atrocity adorning your handsome boyfriend's chest, and he laughs softly at your words.

"That's why I love you."

6:00 pm - Suna

"You're just like the Grinch." You scrunch your nose and look at your husband. He just rolls his eyes and darts towards the Christmas tree. "If I'm the Grinch, then why are there multiple presents for you under this tree?" You cross your arms in front of your chest and pout.

"Why don't you want to watch the Grinch then?"

"Not wanting to watch the Grinch makes me a Grinch?"

You quickly realize the holes in your argumentation and make an attempt to leave the room in silent shame, but Suna is quick enough to catch you and to wrap his arms around you.

"Nah-uh, no escaping from the Grinch. Come on. Let's watch it then."

7:00 pm - Matsukawa

A lazy grin is on his lips when he bites into the last cookie, his eyes rolling back at the exquisite taste.

"Don't you dare to finish this one alone! I swear to god, I'll leave you! I'll hand in a divorce, Matsukawa Issei! No more Mrs. Matsukawa, just imagine how lonely and cold your bed will be without me!" You playfully throw your hands and give him the most intimidating glare you can manage, and he is quick to surrender.

"I give up. Come here, Mrs. Matsukawa. I saved a whole cookie for you." He grins even wider when he shows you another cookie that he hid in his other hand, and you smile and sit down next to him.

"I actually love you, hubby, you know that, right?"

“Are you only saying that because you want the cookie?“

“…is it working?“

8:00 pm - Asahi

"Come here." He opens his arms, and you quickly join him on the couch and allow him to wrap his arms around you. You rest your face against his chest, and he presses a kiss to your head.

"That was a great first Christmas together." You nod and turn your face to him, only to see him watching you with soft eyes. "I think it was great too." You glance down towards the Christmas sweaters that both of you are wearing, the ones that he actually designed himself and feel your heart swell with affection and love for this man.

A great Christmas indeed.

9:00 pm - Hoshiumi

"I can't believe you beat me at golf." He sighs and falls dramatically back to the couch, and you move around the humongous Christmas tree to follow him. "It was literally Wii Sports. I don't even think the console is properly working." You lay down next to him, and he wraps his arms around you energetically. "No, babe. I just have the best partner ever. Someone who is able to beat a professional athlete at Wii Sports? That's either a Christmas miracle or pure talent."

You giggle and allow him to press a kiss to your lips.

"Maybe both."

10:00 pm - Sakusa

You place the last plate in the dishwasher and finally turn on the machine. "I'm done with the kitchen, Kiyoomi!" You yell and grab a bottle of mulled wine and two mugs.

"I finished the living room too." You hear Sakusa answer, and he suddenly appears behind you in the kitchen while you set a pot on the stove and empty the bottle into it.

He raises an eyebrow and looks at you. "Do you want to drink a glass with me?" you ask, and he nods. "I definitely need it after today." He groans, and you softly laugh. "I'm just glad that I got to spend the day with you. No matter how stressful it was." He smiles and pulls you against his body, and you happily wrap your arms around him.

"I love you too."

11 pm - Atsumu

"Not to be that person, but there's a mistletoe above us."

"And?" You put your hands on your hips and look at your blonde boyfriend with a pout. "And that means we have to kiss." He taps his lips with his finger, and you softly laugh at his cute pouty face.

"No, I meant, and why aren't we kissing already?"

You giggle when he eagerly places his hands on your hips and leans down to connect your lips with his, and you wrap your arms around his neck while you kiss him back.

"Merry Christmas."

12:00 am - Kita

"We should go to bed." You yawn and look at the fireplace in front of you, already dreading to leave the warm spot. "We could also sleep here? I can get the blankets and we'll just stay here?" You look at him with stars in your eyes at his words, and he can't suppress a fond smile at your reaction. "Sounds good!"

It doesn't take Kita long to come back with enough blankets and pillows to make you feel like you're in your actual bed. "I think that's enough, Shin. Just come here, please?"

He nods and quickly joins you under the blankets.

And that's how you fall asleep - wrapped in each other's arms while the room is softly illuminated by the fire.

1:00 am - Kuroo

You frown upon noticing that the light in the living room is still on. Slowly getting to your feet, you move towards the living room, where you spot your husband on the couch, softly snoring despite the brightly lit room. He was probably quite tired after the Christmas party at work that, unfortunately, you could not attend. Quickly dimming the light, you go back to the living room to grab a few blankets before approaching him. You set the blankets down and gently work on his tie- and he suddenly blinks tiredly at you.

"Y/n?"

"Shh, it's me—just let me remove your tie, then we can go back to bed." He hums softly, and when you caress his cheek, he turns his face towards you and kisses your palm.

It doesn't take long for you to get under the sheets with him comfortably, and he instinctively wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

"Good night, Tetsu."

"G'night, love."

2 am - Kenma

"Merry Christmas, everyone. I'm gonna go now."

He skims through some comments, and his eyes linger on one.

"Where is y/n? Y/n will come tomorrow. If y/n's up for it, we might stream together."

He smiles at the prospect of seeing you tomorrow—finally. It's been way too long. "Y/n and I will just stay at my place tomorrow. Nothing special planned. We haven't seen each other in a while, so we just want to relax and catch up."

His eyes suddenly spot one comment from a user that is well-known to him, and he feels a blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Miss you, my kitty. See you tomorrow! <3"

3 am - Makki

"I can't believe that we played Monopoly till 3 am."

You try to hide your yawn, but he definitely notices. "It was a great gift from me then, right? We should get some rest, though; you can barely keep your eyes open."

"You're right." You yawn again, and he gently grabs your hand, helping you get up. "Come on, y/n. Enough Christmas Monopoly for today. Let's go to bed."

You nod, and he says, "I don't know if you have enough money to pay for a night with me. My cuddles are expensive." He looks at the non-existent amount of money on your side, and you playfully smack his arm.

"Hey! Careful, or you can sleep on the couch!"

"Please, no!"

4 am - Daichi

"Sawamura?" You yawn when the bed dips with his weight, and a rather cool body presses against yours. "Sorry, love. I didn't mean to wake you." You blindly press a kiss where you suspect his lips are but only find his cheek, and he softly chuckles. "Let us catch some sleep, and then we'll have our fancy Christmas dinner, okay?"

You nod and press yourself closer against him, happy that he is finally here with you in bed.

"Sounds good."

[ray935sworld]

Lost podium - marcmarc

He was used to it by now. Not that he didn't hate it as much. But it had some weird familiarity to not pull in Parc ferme and return to his garage instead.

He was used to saying an apology to his mechanics for fucking up the race. He has been so close to a podium. P2. He had been on P2 for so long and losing the 2nd place to an 8 time world champion surely wasn't the worst thing. Especially when said was on a better bike than he was.

And P3 was completely acceptable. He would be incredibly happy with a P3. But then he had pulled the stupidest move in existence. Going wide and letting Bastanini through.

He could basically hear his father sign loudly. He didn't want to talk to him right now. He knew what they'd say. He wondered when his guilt would be too much and he finally did call his parents. He had been stupid and now he had to endure the consequences all while trying his best in less than 24 hours. He felt like a child, failing one exams just to have another test in the next lesson and therefore being unable to concentrate on anything.

The unforced errors would forever break his neck. If every unforced error were an overtake, he'd have more wins than Vale and Agostini together.

He went through the interview and the evening like he always did. He told the same things like he always did. He spoke about progress he didn't truly believe in. He faked some happiness and optimism. He did believed in his team but he wasn't able to actually execute it.

He congratulated Pecco as the academy met for dinner. He forced himself to laugh about the bad jokes that were made on his behalf and shot the same ones back. He listened to Luca ranting about the Honda. He was obviously torn between happiness that there was some progress and frustration that he was still stuck in the 2nd half of the grid and barely able to fight for the remaining points.

He was used to the weird feeling of knowing he could have done better by now. He hated it none the less.

He knew how to get ride of those thoughts. But today, it was different. Today he had been so close to Marc. He had been close to him the whole weekend. Somehow they had always ended up near each other.

He had no idea how but he definitely wasn't complaining. Even though his stupid brain had decided to give himself false hope and think that Marc had looked at him during the media day and the fan parade. He even thought he had caught him sliming at him, but he had probably grinned over a joke from Alex.

Still all those moment and his mistake that cost him a podium were stuck in his mind.

He was tossing and turning in his bed but he couldn't fall asleep. He wanted to blame the jack let. But he knew it'd be a lie.

He contemplated staying awake until he was too tired to even keep his eyes open. But that would probably be still a few hours to go and then he would manage only 3 hours to sleep. 4 max. And then he'd be tired-grumpy and unable to focus on his job.

He sighed as he stood up again. He quickly threw on some running gear and went outside. Maybe getting some energy burned would help.

At the end he ran 1 lap. He was about to start the next one when someone said his name.

"Bezzecchi?" He flinched. He hadn't excatly expected company. He turned around, to see a smaller man, somehow dressed in a hoodie despite the still thick heat.

"Marquez?" he asked confused cause he couldn't quite believe that the soft lightning of the circuit was actually showing him the older gresini rider.

"Did you expect someone else at... 2 am?" he asked with a laugh. "I didn't expect anyone at 2am. What are you doing here?" he asked confused.

He was panicked. Slitly. Somehow it felt like he was crossing boundaries. Vale's boundaries, but still boundaries he should respect. After all, he had done a lot for him and talking with Marc Marquez of all people in the middle of the night surely would pass as questionable. At least. Especially cause Marc had been his crush for quite a while now.

"I could ask you the same" he countered. "But I asked first" "Right. Okay, I couldn't sleep. It was a long day and the traveling is still in my bones" "Yeah... Same" he muttered.

"Naaaah, I don't believe you" "What?" "I don't believe you. I'm old. I can't adjust to the time that well but you... What's really the reason why you're standing here?"

Marc looked at him for a second. His eyes wandered. He was clearly checking him out and a part of him regretted while the other was super happy he had gone for the extra tight running shirt.

Marc didn't had the decency to at least and hide that he was, in fact, looking at Bez body. His chest, to be clear. The tight and sweaty shirt left no room for imagination. It also gave him the answer wheter he was still wearing the nipple piercing Marc had once spotted on a picture.

He was.

He wondered what they would feel like against his skin. His lips. Before he realize what he was doing, he licked his lips.

Bez was starting to panic. His crush was clearly checking him out and now - Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He had to do something. He had to get away or close or -

"I am very sorry about you losing the podium." Marc said, eyes now locked with his. His voice was soft, but there was a daring tone to it. "I was looking forwards to share another one with you. You deserved it"

Without any of them noticing, they got slightly closer. The distance between them shrunked. "Thank you... It was... Well, you know how it is. And congrats to your podium"

"Thanks... Would have been more fun with you there"

Suddenly Marco felt a hand on his wrist. He didn't dare look. Instead he watched how Marc's eyes were focused on the bracelets there. He had got then from his sister, his mom and his best friend in Italy.

They were really meaningful to him, so he normally didn't like people touching them. This however seemed different. He didn't flinch or pulled back. Instead he tested how far Marc would go and Marc tested how far he could go. Searching for the limit. As always.

"I like having you on the podium... It makes you smile in a very beautiful way. And you look fucking breathtaking up there" he whispered, his hand now lingering around the younger ones fingers and the simply grabbing them.

Bez didn't hesitate and let their fingers intervene. It felt warm and he smiled as he looked down at Marc. They were standing closer than ever.

"Marc?" he whispered. "Yeah?" "Why are you doing this?" he heard himself ask and with that, he once again destroyed his own luck.

With that simple question doubted returned to his mind. He wondered why Marc Marquez would be interested in him - the rider that didn't live up to the expectations the most.

Unless... All the warnings that Vale had shared with the academy about other riders manipulations techniques returned. He felt panic rise on him. Was that part of it? But why him? Why not Pecco? Pecco would make more sense. Okay, Pecco was married but he wouldn't put it past Marc not to be bothered by that.

"Because I like you, Marco. You've woken my interested since you stepped up and you are smoking hot. Especially when sweaty and on top" he grinned and Bez felt his stomach heating up. He hadn't quite expected a statement that bold. "On top of the podium of course..."

"Then why do you... Why now?" After all, this was his 3rd year in MotoGP. "Well, I doubt I would still have a head if I tried this last year... And in 2022, I was out half the time. Not really a good bonding opportunity." He laughed. The darkness around them swallowed it.

Marco wasn't sure what to say or think. But there was no need. Marc crossed the last distance between them, standing on his tiptoes as he kissed his cheek. Bez immediately felt them heating up.

He knew he was turning red but Marc just smiled at him.

"Good luck tomorrow, Marco" he said as he tilted his head to the side he let go of Bez hand. "Try to get some sleep. Okay?"

He was about to turn around when Bez grabbed his wrist. He couldn't help himself. Confused he looked at him. "Is that some sick twisted way to destroy my concentration for tomorrow? Is... Did you tell that to Pecco too? Is that your way of fucking other ones races up"

He knew it wasn't nice what he accused him of, but he had to.

Marc froze. He didn't like to admit that the accusation hurt more than he had expected. He knew where it was coming from. Of course. So he didn't blame the younger rider. And in his defense, he had used some questionable methods already. Flirting didn't seem like out of pocket for him. But fake flirting? With Bez? No.

"I am not playing with you. I am very serious about this." he reassusered him. "I want you to have a good race and see you smiling on the podium again. It's where you belong and you look very pretty there."

He could see that Bez wasn't believing him. He wondered if putting his hands on his cheeks and pulling him down to him and kissing him after very sentence until he was convinced might be too much. He decided it was.

"And no. I never talked to Pecco like that and I never would. Or anyone else for the record. At least not since I know you." "I don't believe you." He smiled. It was a calm, sad smile.

"I know. That's okay. I really hope you can somehow find it in yourself to let me try and give you trust in me. I am really not lying to you, Marco." "And how would I know that?"

"Do you not trust me because you think I'm actually a bad person or because the people around you told you not to trust me?" he finally said. It was all he wanted to know. And not getting an answer, instead being answered with silence, was enough he had to know.

He smiled again, kissed his other cheek as well. "Well, then... Maybe you should start forming your own opinions. I'd be happy to help" he offered as he walked away.

"Tomorrow night. My motorhome" A thumbs up was all the answers that was given.

That was the last thing spoken between them, before Bez went to sleep. And had the best night of rest in a long time.