#flamboyant ring costumes

[wrestlingarsenal]

So I've been diving deep into the wrestling career of the Heel known as Chris Colt -- searching for his rare 1970s matches on YouTube, and falling in love with him as one does with gay wrestling icons.

My obsession was kicked off by a recent episode of "Dark Side of the Ring" which aired on Vice earlier this year. I recently streamed it and couldn't help noticing Colt's blatant homoerotic energy, which was perhaps not clocked by most str8 fans at the time.

As with most wrestlers featured on "Dark Side," Colt's life story is filled with trauma, addiction, violence, and a sad ending. However, he was also really sexy, and gay, and clearly loved everything about pro wrestling. All of today's images are from the Dark Side of the Ring, Season 5, Episode #6, "Chris Colt: Welcome to My Nightmare."

His persona and his wrestling performances really captured my fancy. Like other 70's Heels using the Gay Master persona, he mixed queer hip-swiveling with aggressive brutality and eye make-up. He was a violent, sissified dick-tease, just how I like them. He liked to bite and scratch his opponents like a sassy bitch. His costumes were colorful and always super queer, and oftentimes either he, or his opponent, or both would end up bloody-faced.

His many innovations added entertainment value to pro wrestling which we still enjoy today. He was the first to adopt flamboyant Rock n Roll fashion, and first to use Entrance Music (in his case, Alice Cooper's "Welcome to My Nightmare.") He was one of the first to jump off the top rope onto a prone opponent. And most of all, he knew the audience wanted MORE than just the same old holds and finishers -- they wanted to see sex in the ring (as much as the law would allow.)

He was also gay IRL and didn't seem to care who figured that out (which was rare, and rather trail-breaking, during the homophobic 1970s.) And I'm sure he got bullied and blacklisted and possibly beaten because he happened to like men.

Check out the documentary and let me know if you feel the urge, like I did, to hug Chris Colt and tell him it'll be OK. You can hopefully find it if you have the Vice Channel on your cablevision. I know it's also available for streaming from Amazon Prime Video for like $2.99:

[bxtxnx]

[☿ + ♀] put a ring on it.

Venus conjoining Mercury in your chart can most often make you obsessed with rings. Because Mercury rules the hands, when it's conjunct your Venus, ruler of beauty, it puts an emphasis on your hands. Your nails need to be done (or to be well-kept and presentable at least) and your outfit feels incomplete without at least one ring or bracelet.

For this one, though I'm focusing only on rings, because I'm obsessed with them. And yes, I do have a Mercury-Venus conjunction.

The sign Mercury and Venus are in add nuance to the type of rings one likes.

Mercury and Venus in Aries can make you like bigger and heavier rings that add an edgy vibe to your look. You can also like smaller, thinner and simpler rings, because they are more convenient and don't get in the way.

In Taurus, Mercury and Venus put an emphasis on quality of the rings. Someone with these placements can prefer to go for a smaller or simpler ring, investing in its quality and material instead. So, if you are on a budget, you may prefer a smaller ring that is made of gold or silver, instead of a bigger and flashier costume jewelry. In terms of design, Taurus placements can go for flashier styles, with bigger rings or rings with a more intricate designs or some precious stones.

A Gemini Venus and Mercury combo can go for all types of rings, but the more fun and interesting looking the ring is, the better. You can also go for all sorts of combinations - many stacked dainty rings, wearing two or three statement rings or just one ring that fits with your outfit.

Cancer Mercury and Venus can go for smaller and more dainty rings. Antique rings are also one of the go to for Cancer. If a Cancer has received a ring from a family member, you can bet that that will be the ring they wear the most.

Leo Venus and Mercury can go for various types of rings, as well as they like the design. Dainty rings, cocktail rings, wedding band type of rings, nothing is off limits. They like it, they will get it and wear it, depending on the vibe they are going for on each particular day.

A Venus-Mercury conjunction in Virgo can make you like minimalistic or simple rings. You may also go for smaller and daintier rings for the sake of convenience. Virgo placements like simplicity but also appreciate paying attention to the details, so you can go for one or two small rings or a few thin stacked rings that match perfectly to make an interesting an detailed pattern.

Libra Mercury and Venus can go for dainty rings, looks with stacked rings or pretty, statement, cocktail rings with some sparkly rhinestones. If a person with these placements has been given a promise or engagement ring or is married, this ring will be the most precious to them and will always try to compliment that ring either by wearing less or smaller rings so they don't clash with the promise/engagement/wedding ring or will always consider carefully what rings they buy and wear, so they match the promise/engagement/wedding ring and not overshadow it.

Mercury and Venus in Scorpio can have you going for extremes, by wearing A LOT of rings or very big and heavy rings. If a ring looks edgy, Scorpio will like it, especially if it has a skull or something like that on it. On the other hand, they can also go for simpler (but still big and heavy) rings, if they are going for a more sophisticated style.

In Sagittarius, Venus and Mercury give you a "more is better" attitude when it comes to rings, so you can wear many rings or go for bigger statement rings. You can also go for more interesting and flamboyant designs.

Having Venus and Mercury in Capricorn can sometimes make a person not like rings at all and not wear them. If they do wear rings though, Capricorns go for simpler and classy styles. They can also go for a statement cocktail ring, as long as it looks classy in their eyes and the design isn't too bold or dramatic.

In Aquarius, Mercury and Venus can give you a very eclectic style and go for all sorts of rings, but the more unique they are the better. This is the sign that is most likely to go for a colorful stainless steel type of ring or anything that is more unusual. The brighter, more colorful or interesting the ring is, the better. They can also combine rings in very unexpected ways.

With Venus and Mercury in Pisces, you can be going for all sorts of rings. Nothing is off limits here either, because what matters is that the rings match your style and outfit for the day. However, simple rings may be too boring for you and you may go for ones that look more interesting in terms of design. ☽

[urfavoritewriter]

Ghostface Meal, Part II

A gift for a very good friend of mine. <3

Content: M/Multiple Prey, Oral Vore, Digestion, Unwilling Prey, Muscular Pred, Ghostface, Male Observer, Belching

As Chris ventured back into the lively atmosphere of the party, his shirtless form with the bulging, full-of-Alex belly stood out amidst the sea of costumes and flashing lights. The Ghostface mask perched atop his head added an eerie allure to his imposing physique. He moved through the crowd with a predatory grace, his eyes scanning the room for his next target.

Nearby, a young man dressed as a cowboy caught Chris's attention. The cowboy's outfit consisted of a worn leather vest adorned with fringes, tight jeans, and a classic Stetson hat perched jauntily atop his head. His rugged appearance contrasted with the flamboyant costumes around him, drawing Chris's gaze like a moth to a flame.

With a confident stride, Chris closed the distance between them, his muscles rippling beneath the dim lighting of the party. The cowboy glanced up at him with a mix of curiosity and apprehension, clearly taken aback by Chris's squirming belly.

Without a word, Chris reached out and grasped the cowboy's shoulder, his touch firm yet strangely inviting. The cowboy's eyes widened in surprise as Chris's strong grip guided him closer, their faces mere inches apart.

With a sudden, fluid motion, Chris's other hand shot out and wrapped around the cowboy's waist, pulling him even closer until their bodies were pressed tightly together. The cowboy's heart raced with a mix of fear and excitement as he found himself ensnared by Chris's powerful embrace.

“Hope you don’t mind joining the private after-party,” Chris said, “’Cause you’ve got a one-way ticket there.”

With a primal growl, Chris lunged forward and engulfed the cowboy's head in his gaping maw, his powerful jaws snapping shut with a resounding crunch, bitten as he’s being swallowed whole but not enough to end him right away.

As the cowboy's struggling form disappeared into the darkness of Chris's gullet, a deep, satisfied belch reverberated through the room, signaling the completion of yet another successful feast.

As the partygoers began to notice the peculiar sight of Chris, shirtless and bulging with an unmistakable gluttony, a wave of confusion rippled through the crowd. Some exchanged bewildered glances, while others gasped in shock at the spectacle unfolding before them.

With a self-satisfied smirk, Chris patted his distended belly, relishing in the weight of his recent indulgences. His appetite had been ignited, and he had no intention of stopping now, especially since Robin was waiting for him up there where he promised he’d be back.

With a predatory gleam in his eye, Chris began to move through the crowd once more, his strides purposeful and determined. He approached his next unsuspecting victim, a young woman dressed as a glamorous flapper from the roaring twenties. Her sequined dress shimmered in the dim light of the party, her laughter ringing out like music to Chris's ears, oblivious & thinking people were having rowdy fun.

With a deceptively charming smile, Chris sidled up to the flapper, his muscles bulging beneath the dim light of the party. Before she could react, Chris's strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to his towering frame. His grip was firm yet strangely comforting, drawing her into his embrace with a mix of fear and fascination.

With a playful wink, Chris leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered teasingly, "Looks like you're the next lucky contestant in my little game."

The flapper's eyes widened in disbelief as Chris's other hand shot out and clasped the back of her head, tilting it back at a precarious angle. In one swift motion, he opened his mouth wide, revealing row after row of gleaming teeth.

With a mixture of horror and fascination, the flapper watched as Chris's jaws descended upon her, swallowing her head whole in a single, merciless gulp.

Undeterred by the chaos unfolding around him, Chris continued to waddle through the crowd, his eyes scanning for his next victim. Man or woman, it mattered little to him.

As the chaos of the party escalated into mass panic, Chris found himself swept up in a whirlwind of movement and noise. People were running in every direction, their screams echoing off the walls of the house as they fled from the terrifying spectacle unfolding before them.

But amidst the chaos, Chris remained strangely calm, his focus unwavering as he continued his relentless pursuit of sustenance. With each swift movement, he snatched up another unsuspecting partygoer, his powerful arms enveloping them in a vice-like grip before they even had a chance to react.

As he swallowed down his latest victim, a surge of exhilaration coursed through Chris's veins, driving him onward in his quest for more. He moved with an almost supernatural agility, darting through the crowd with ease as he zeroed in on his next target.

But amidst the chaos and confusion, there was one person who remained firmly planted in Chris's mind: Robin, the shy and unassuming boy whom he had left behind in the room upstairs. With each passing moment, Chris's thoughts turned to the young man, his heart swelling with a strange mixture of protectiveness and desire.

As he swallowed down yet another hapless partygoer, Chris's mind drifted back to the image of Robin, sitting alone in the room, tears glistening in his eyes. The memory fueled his determination, driving him to continue his rampage through the party with renewed fervor.

With each swallow, Chris felt a strange sense of satisfaction wash over him, his belly swelling with the weight of his latest conquests. As he swallowed down another partygoer, Chris couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation at the thought of having the boy rub & worship his growing belly, putting all his weight to work.

As Chris sat on the floor, his muscular frame dominating the room, his shirtless torso gleaming under the party lights, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself. His belly, now swollen to a massive size, bulged out between his powerful thighs, a testament to the feast he had indulged in moments ago. He absentmindedly rubbed the distended mound, feeling the weight of his conquests squirming within.

With a mischievous grin, Chris whistled for Robin, the shy and slender man he had left in the room earlier. As Robin descended the stairs, his eyes widened in shock and amazement at the sight before him. The room was filled with the aroma of food and the sound of muffled protests emanating from Chris's belly.

“U–Uh… Chris–”

"Well, don't just stand there cutie, this is all for you to enjoy~," Chris said casually, gesturing towards his swollen midsection with a nonchalant flick of his hand. Robin approached tentatively, his gaze fixed on the round mass before him. With a mixture of curiosity and excitement, he gingerly reached out to touch Chris's belly.

As his slender fingers made contact with the warm, taut skin, Robin felt a rush of exhilaration. “You’re so big ,” He began to explore every inch of the dome-like mound, his hands tracing the contours and feeling the occasional punch or kick from the prey trapped within. “I can feel them moving inside you!” Despite the chaotic scene unfolding around him, Robin couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for the powerful figure before him.

“Probably just letting you know they love being in there,” He said, as Robin continued to worship Chris's giant belly, his slender fingers exploring every curve and crevice, Chris casually reached up and pulled his Scream mask back down over his face, the eerie grin now concealing his features once more. The mask perched perfectly on his head as he leaned back against the wall, enjoying the sensation of Robin's touch against his distended abdomen.

With each gentle caress, Chris could feel the vibrations of the prey inside, their muffled protests only serving to fuel his amusement. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Robin, so small and delicate compared to the massive mound of flesh before him.

“You’re so warm, so big, and so squishy!” Suddenly, Robin leaned forward, his entire weight pressing down onto Chris's stomach with surprising force. The sudden pressure caused Chris to let out a deep, rumbling belch that echoed through the room, the sound reverberating like a beast's roar in the quiet of the night.

BuUuUuuRrRpp!

Chris laughed heartily at the sound, reveling in the sheer power of his own body. Bringing Robin in closer, Chris lifted his mask up slightly, revealing his lips beneath the eerie grin. He looked into Robin's eyes with a mixture of amusement and desire, his voice low and husky as he spoke.

"Well, aren't you a bold one," Chris said, his tone teasing yet tinged with a hint of admiration. "Feeling better already?“

“Very.” He said, his expression a stark contrast to when he was crying back in the bedroom; He had a smile on his face, enjoying himself as Chris’s huffed breath washed over his face.

As Robin leaned in closer, unsure of what to expect, Chris met him halfway, his lips crashing against Robin's in a fiery kiss. The intensity of the moment took both of them by surprise, their mouths moving together in a passionate dance fueled by desire and hunger.

"Mmm, that's it," Chris murmured against Robin's lips, his voice husky with desire. "You feel so good."

Chris's hands roamed eagerly over Robin's slender frame, exploring every curve and contour with an almost primal hunger. He could feel the heat radiating off Robin's body, the softness of his skin driving Chris wild with longing.

Meanwhile, Robin's fingers found their way to Chris's chiseled pecs, kneading them with a mixture of awe and reverence. Each touch sent shivers down Chris's spine, his body responding instinctively to Robin's every caress.

"You're so fucking hot," Robin whispered, his voice laced with admiration as his fingers trailed down Chris's chest.

Chris chuckled, the sound vibrating against Robin's lips. "You're not so bad yourself," he replied, his tone playful yet tinged with a hint of lust.

As their kiss deepened, the air around them crackled with electricity, the intensity of their passion igniting like wildfire. Moans and gasps escaped their lips, mingling together in pleasure as they lost themselves in each other's embrace.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they surrendered to the heat of the moment, their bodies pressed together in a frenzy of desire. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, as Chris’s belly groaned loudly, churning around its occupants.

Chris broke the kiss, but instead of pulling away, he wrapped his strong arm around Robin, pulling him close in a tight embrace. Their bodies pressed together, the warmth of their closeness enveloping them both as they shared a moment of intimacy.

As they held each other, Chris let out a contented sigh, his eyes closing in bliss. "Let's sleep here while I digest," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "And then, how about we go on an official date? That's if you're fine with me carrying a belly tomorrow from what I got in front of me." He slapped his belly, prompting a muffled yelp of pain.

Robin's blush deepened, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'd love that," he replied, his voice soft and earnest as he nuzzled against Chris's chest. "And I don't mind at all. Besides, it's just proof of how lucky I am to have such a strong, handsome man like you."

Chris chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to Robin's forehead. "You're too sweet," he murmured, his voice filled with affection. "Now, let's get some rest. We've got a big day ahead of us."

Together, they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms, the promise of a new beginning lingering in the air. For Chris and Robin, the night was just the beginning of their journey together, filled with love, passion, and the occasional indulgence in their shared desires.

[cressida-jayoungr]

One Dress a Day Challenge

November: Oscar Winners

The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert / Hugo Weaving as Anthony "Tick" Belrose (Mitzi Del Bra)

Year: 1994

Designer: Tim Chappel and Lizzy Gardiner

In a movie full of flamboyant costumes, this minidress adorned with pink and orange flip-flops definitely stands out for its original materials. It's got a definite 1960s vibe, between the length, the colors, and the "pop art" feel to it. Accessories include matching earrings, knee-high "gladiator" sandals, a cotton-candy-pink wig, and many large rings.

This was the first movie I ever saw Hugo Weaving in, so he wasn't cemented as "Agent Smith" in my mind, as he seems to have been for those who first encountered him in The Matrix. Consequently, I had no trouble shifting to viewing him as Elrond in the LOTR movies.

[intricate-ritualz]

dear evan hansen movie:

jared: good luck

*3 HOURS LATER*

doctor: your gay reduction surgery was a success!

connor: where is jared?

doctor: who do you think took your gay?

connor: NOOOOO

in all seriousness (coming from someone who has barely watched the entire movie 😭) connor’s costuming was LAUGHABLE. in the through the window book it’s mentioned how the costumers didn’t want connor to look too “textbook edgy” … they dress him in mainly grays, not too many harsh blacks, lots of layers. he looks like he spends a lot of time at thrift stores, basement shows, etc. like he’s the kind of guy to wear clothes to the ground (despite his parent’s wealth) we only get a few small glimpses of the Real connor, so his clothing telling us a bit abt who he is/was is rly important. the black nail polish and rings look honestly out of place on this guy with his graphic t and skinny jeans and clean cut hair😭😭”don’t worry straight connor can’t hurt you”straight connor:

AND PLS. PLS DONT GET ME STARTED ON FLAMBOYANT OPENLY GAY JARED.😭🤦‍♀️ if we are going to IGNORE the fact that this version of jared seems like he Hates evan. that many of the people who have played jared have said that part of why jared is so Awful to evan is due to him being scared of showing evan how much he truly cares abt him (maybe due to some not so platonic Feelings he’s harbored for evan) IF WE ARE GOING TO IGNORE THAT. this is just . a Complete assassination of jared’s character. jared is REALLY heavily implied to be closeted let’s admit that 😭(the obsessive gay jokes that are a liiittle too thought out ..”that’s like the EXACT FORMULA for secret gay hs lovers!” we get it jared you read BL) (the fiddler on the roof reference in his breakup speech with evan😭okay secret theater kid) (the obvious lying about getting with girls) (there r So many more specific lines but one that sticks out to me is a cut line jared says to evan abt zoe “what are you going to do? spoon? veeery heterosexual” OH MY GOD? STRAIGHT PEOPLE DONT SAY THAT JARED 😭) so jared is closeted in the show, which adds to the idea that every character wants to be “seen” in some way. but jared is not only closeted. he’s also a MASSIVE LOSER. this fun, openly gay jared doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who is CLINGING to his childhood best friend (all while simultaneously being an Ass to him assuming he’ll cling back no matter how he’s treated) bc, as evan says during their breaku– imean falling out “maybe you only talk to me bc you don’t HAVE any other friends, jared!” “dw openly gay jared can’t hurt you!” openly gay jared:

anyways. seeing jared’s character absolutely MURDERED like this pissed me awf sooo much . same with connor save him from that t-shirt god.

[nerdygaymormon]

Happy Pride

I want to wish a Happy Pride to:

Green Carnations

In 1892, Oscar Wilde had some of his friends wear a green carnation on their left lapels to the opening night of his show. An elegant and witty character in the play—who paralleled real-life Oscar Wilde—wore a carnation as part of his costume. Why green? It was an unnatural color for a carnation, Wilde chose this since it was said that homosexuality was unnatural. The green carnation became associated with Wilde and his flamboyant friends, and spread as a secret code to show others that you're gay.

"Be Gay, Do Crime"

The slogan "Be gay, do crime" has existed since at least 2011. The slogan suggests that crime and incivility may be necessary to earn equal rights given the criminalization of homosexuality around the world and a reminder that the Stonewall uprising was a riot. The slogan stands in contrast to the polished, corporate version of contemporary Pride, and shows that queerness has always been transgressive, regardless of its legal status. Part of being queer is being willing to push boundaries and protect one's self from the law since we have traditionally been attacked by it.

Peppermint Patty and Marcie

Peppermint Patty defied traditional gender norms. She played all sorts of sports at a time when it wasn't common for girls to do so. All the other female characters wore dresses, but Patty wears a t-shirt, shorts and sandals and the only other female character not to wear dresses is Marcie.

Peppermint Patty regularly flirts with Charlie Brown and has a strong bond with Marcie. While we don't know for sure, it certainly seems that Peppermint Patty is bi and her best friend Marcie is a lesbian.

I can imagine Peppermint Patty organizing the school's GSA or an all-inclusive dance, and loudly calling out any queerphobia. I like thinking of Patty getting a man's suit from a thrift store and going to Prom where she dances with both Marcie and Charlie Brown

Absolut Vodka

In 1979, Absolut entered the American market, but sales were slow. In 1981, Absolut starting targeting the LGBTQ consumer with the idea this group are trendsetters. Since 1981, Absolut has had print ads in queer magazines, sponsored events in gay bars, donated more than $40 million to queer charities and causes, sponsors the GLAAD Media Awards, and numerous major LGBTQ events in the US annually. Absolut has commissioned many openly gay artists to create ads, such as Andy Warhol, Nereyda Garcia Ferraz, David Spada, Keith Haring and Kenny Scharf. Supporting the queer community in 1981 was risky, but they have invested in the community and earned loyalty in return.

Pink Triangle

In the 1930s and 40s, just as Nazi Germany required Jews in the concentration camps to wear a yellow star of David, gay men, bi men, and trans women had to wear a downward-pointing triangle on their chest. The symbol was reclaimed in the 1970's by the queer liberation movement as a symbol against homophobia, and then was adopted widely by the LGBTQ community. The community took this symbol from the holocaust to show we are stronger than the worst done to us.

The pink triangle has largely been replaced by the rainbow Pride flag, and a reason for this is explaining why a pink triangle is the symbol of the community required an explanation of its dark past and therefore was about what others did to us rather than a symbol representing who we are and our hopes & aspirations. Although it isn't used much anymore, it's important to remember the pink triangle as the first widely-adopted visual symbol of the queer community

Ace & Aro Rings

Beginning in 2005, wearing a black ring on the middle finger of your right hand became a way for people to signify their asexuality. The material and design of the ring are not important as long as it is primarily black. It’s about carrying a reminder on our hands that there are others like us, and it's a way to identify each other. A white ring on the left hand of the middle finger is the aro equivalent.

Eyebrow Slits

Eyebrow slits was a trend in the hip hop community in the 1990's and called "eyebrow cuts." The trend fell out of style, but was brought back in the 2010's by some male artists and models as an edgy fashion statement. Lesbians quickly adopted this trend, perhaps as a way of showing they aren't beholden to gendered fashion rules, and it quickly grew in popularity on social media as a way for members of the queer community to express themselves and signal to each other. It seems natural that a fashion style containing an underlying rebelliousness appeals to a group who are marginalized by society. The eyebrow slit trend largely has faded except among the LGBTQ+ community, and so has become associated with us.

Nautical Star Tattoos

For centuries, sailors would get tattoos, often of images with symbolic meanings, such as the nautical star (which represents the North Star) which was believed to ensure a sailor’s safe return home. In the 1940s and 50s, lesbians were navigating the choppy waters of societal norms and expectations, and this five-pointed star tattoo became their compass, helping them find others like themselves. They'd get this tattoo on the inner wrist because it could be covered by a watch strap during the day, allowing women to hide their identity when necessary for their safety or professional lives, but could reveal it in safe spaces. This symbol was revived in the 1970's and is still used by some to this day.

Online "Am I Gay?" Quizzes

A common experience of people who are gay, bi, and pan, is they find an online quiz that will ask a few questions and then determine whether you are gay, or will reveal how gay you are (as though this can be graded like a school test). Sometimes the questions are lighthearted, while others try to be more serious. Here's the thing, more than any quiz results, searching for this type of quiz is probably the biggest indicator that a person experiences attraction to people of their same gender. It can be helpful for someone to have a "confirmation" of how they're feeling, and thus these "am I gay" quizzes will remain a rite of passage many.

Subaru

In the early 1990's, Subaru was struggling. Sales of their dependable but plain cars were in decline. Subaru knew teachers, healthcare professionals, IT professionals, and the outdoorsy types bought 1/2 their cars in America, and they targeted advertisements at those groups. Soon they realized there was yet another core group, lesbians were 4 times more likely than the average American to purchase a Subaru.

Subaru began printing advertisements that made subtle nods to lesbians in a way that slipped past the notice of other Americans, such as having the license plate "XENA LVR" on a car. Many ads had taglines with double meanings. "Get Out. And Stay Out" could refer to exploring the outdoors in a Subaru—or coming out as gay. "It’s Not a Choice. It’s the Way We’re Built" could refer to all Subarus coming with all-wheel-drive—or an LGBTQ identity.

Subaru noticed a group of customers and created ads for them, a group which often felt unwelcome and invisible. The campaign was so successful that it became a stereotype that lesbians drive Subarus, even leading to the word "Lesbaru." Polls show that the queer community views Subaru as the most queer-friendly brand.

[stabbyfoxandrew]

angel neil or arsonist neil !!! i cant choose bc i adore them both <3

WIP Wednesday (5/8) | Guardian Angel Neil AU (Part 186)

“Boo! You’re both lame,” Nicky says, leaning against the wall. He fiddles with the ruffles of his shirt and sighs. “I wish they’d had my size in that angel getup. I would’ve made an awesome sexy angel.”

Andrew once again thanks the universe for not supplying his cousin with such an outfit. And Kevin drops his head against the back of the couch, looking unconvinced.

“Hey, I mean… That might not have been a one night thing,” Nicky says, wiggling his eyebrows. “Erik might’ve liked it.”

“Ew,” says Aaron as he emerges from the bedroom with shittily-applied green face paint.

“You look like a pickle,” is the first thing Andrew thinks and it falls out of his mouth before he can take a breath. After turning to look at Aaron, Nicky hoots and Kevin chuckles.

“Fuck you. It’s clearly a zombie outfit,” Aaron says, gesturing to the ripped up clothes and paint on his arms.

“Zombie pickle,” Nicky giggles.

Aaron points at him. “Shut up, Nicky. This was your idea in the first place!”

“No, I told you to get the werewolf costume,” Nicky says, wagging his finger. “You said it was stupid and I suggested getting the other pirate suit so we could match. You told me that was even stupider and grabbed this. Remember?”

Aaron gives a deep sigh. “Yeah. I remember.”

“Is everyone ready?” Andrew asks, standing up. “Lazy vampire, flamboyant pirate, zombie pickle?”

“Yes, baby cow,” Aaron snides, making Nicky coo. And Andrew glares at them both.

“OMG. He does look sort of like those cute ones with the hair, doesn’t he?” Nicky says. “Andrew, maybe you should get a nose ring.”

“Maybe you should shut up. My knives are real, yours aren’t.” Andrew says, pointing to the plastic cutlass hanging on Nicky’s hip. 

“Lead the way, baby co—” Nicky cuts off to clear his throat. “Cousin.”

[hexalianrebel-blackfeathers]

(Tickle) Fight Club; Chapter 2

Panda’s Notes: I just love this AU. >w< I hope you guys are having fun with it too.

[Ao3] || [Cookies Found: 0] || [Commissions] || [Ko-fi]

[1] || [2]

Warning: This is also almost 10k words. Everyone gets at least a little bit wrecked. >w<

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Rec Center out on the edge of Queens was always just a little quieter on weekday mornings. The after-school clubs were, well, after school, and most of the noisy people popped up after their work shifts.

Now who did that leave?

Well, so far, it looked like mostly seniors. There were yoga classes, a quilting club, maybe three different book clubs meeting at the same time, swim class; probably a few others.

Sweet old retirees were only about 80%. So, what comes after that?

College kids and freeload—freelancers.

Miles blinked at the middle-aged receptionist that he’d been attempting to make small talk with while waiting for the others. That was an…intriguing Freudian slip. He made a show of putting his jacket back on to cover his Princeton shirt, and the receptionist huffed and glanced back at his papers.

The door suddenly opened, and Miles recognized the voices making up the loud chatter.

“Ugh, speaking of…” The man murmured, and Miles wasn’t sure if he wanted him to notice the side-eye he was giving or not.

Ganke, Margo, and Hobie approached the counter, and Margo was not nearly as shy about glaring at the older man. Miles nearly flinched out of his skin as Hobie dragged a finger up his spine, and the cutting look in his eyes went dull when Hobie winked and smirked.

“Morning, Charles.” Ganke said with a casual grin. “Can we get 230, please?”

Charles huffed, reaching under the desk. There was a clatter of metal, and Ganke reached to pull the clipboard on the counter toward himself. He quickly signed something and politely thanked the receptionist as he took the key, ignoring the way they were shooed away from the desk. Miles crossed his arms, about to step back when:

“I don’t see why you hang around folks like that, Brown.” The man grumbled.

Hobie chuckled, shrugging without taking his hands out of his pockets. “Someone’s gotta keep them outta trouble, yeah? Cheers, mate.”

Miles did a full double-take before following the group to the hall. “You’re the one he likes?”

“Call me a paleontologist, eh? The way I work dinosaurs.” He snorted, and Margo punched his arm with a laugh. “Just a bit of my glamour though, innit, love?”

Miles might have been watching his hands more than listening to his words. He was wearing several rings and bracelets on the hand he kept gesturing with, and Miles kept staring until one of his fingers tapped his nose as they got to the elevator.

“Yeah, we’re not entirely sure what his problem with us is.” Ganke sighed, resting his hands in his pockets.

“We’re not?” Pavitr chimed in, looking up from his phone. “I remember something about ‘Obnoxious Flamboyant Queers’—”

Gwen stifled a laugh, and Ganke winced and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, thank you, Pavi…”

Pavitr shrugged, sneaking himself next to Miles as they all crowded into the elevator. “He told me that before he knew I was with them.” He chuckled, and Miles subtly tried to peek at what he was scrolling through. “Don’t mind him, though, Fish. He’s just an old gossip, likes to run his mouth without watching it.”

“We show up in costume one time…” Ganke huffed, leading them through the hallways to the same meeting room from days before. Everyone spread out for a moment, tossing their bags and jackets under the side table or onto the sofa against the back wall. Miles was careful to squeeze his backpack up against the side of the sofa, and Hobie set a fabric guitar case decked out in patches and colorful binding in the corner.

“Ain’t you a sight today, too, Freckles~” He murmured with a faint whistle, brushing freshly painted nails across Miles’ cheek as he walked back to the others. Miles rested his hand on his face; his cheek was warm.

Those marks on Hobie’s face seemed familiar; if his brain could shut up, maybe he could place it.

“Alright, Miles, step on up!” He flinched a little as Margo called him, turning to find them gathered around the big office chair that had been at the desk in the other corner. He grinned nervously, fidgeting with his hands as he took hesitant steps toward them.

“C’mon, cutie~” Margo called again, gently taking his hand as he got close and setting him into the chair. “All you, Tiger.”

Ganke stepped forward, clapping his hands together as he began. “Okay, Miles, let’s get the boring stuff out of the way; as team lead, I get to welcome you officially to our little chaos factory.”

Miles snickered, shifting the chair a bit with his foot. “They put you in charge, huh? Chaos factory might not cut it.”

“Well, I call it ‘Acting Manager’. Our little ‘Founder’ isn’t here, and I can’t trust Hobie with anything ‘bureaucratic’, so…” He rolled his eyes with a little grin as Hobie stuck his tongue out. “Anyway, yeah, things to keep in mind: The bottom line is respect. We respect space; we respect boundaries. Even if you join, you never have to do anything you don’t want to do. Everyone has their role, even outside of the ring. Safe words are the law; if you intentionally disrespect someone’s safe word, we are legally obligated to cave your head in. This room is where we usually meet for big projects, but generally, we just hang out wherever we like, a lot of planning gets done on the Discord and such. You’ll probably see this room a lot to start, since you’re new, but we know all the best places; trust me. Oh, big thing, should have said this: we do run a social media thing; sometimes we post little sessions we do. Nothing gets posted without the consent of everyone in the video; we’ll pull down anything if someone gets uncomfortable after the fact; and if it comes to it, we will delete stuff from the drives and any copies that might be floating around. Everything we can from our end.”

Miles focused on the explanation; it felt like hearing someone read out terms and conditions, but this was the first time he really knew it was important. The others looked serious, only occasionally glancing at Miles while Ganke spoke. It was a little weird, considering how he’d met them all.

A smile crossed Ganke’s face, and he chuckled. “You always look so nervous when you focus. At ease, soldier.” He teased, patting Miles’ shoulder as he walked around the chair. “Now, Miles, I like to think I know you by now, so I think you’re a good fit for the club. You know everyone here has a good impression of you. Naturally, you get final say. You wanna hang with us?”

They all seemed to light up a bit as he glanced at them. They weren’t good at hiding it, either.

He laughed softly, sitting up straighter. “Of course I want to hang out with you guys; I thought we established that much.”

Ganke clapped his hands sharply, grinning excitedly as he stepped back. “Well, alright! That’s the contract done, which means you get to enter the Gauntlet of Death~!” He reached suddenly, fluttering his fingers against Miles’ shoulder.

Miles giggled brightly, playfully shoving his hands away. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means we’re going to go around the group, draw straws maybe, and everyone introduces themselves. Ice breakers and initiation.”

“What exactly is the ‘death’ part?”

“You know what the ‘death’ part is, don’t be cute.” Ganke pulled the arm of the chair, turning him slowly as he spoke. Whoever’s turn it is: they get…two minutes?”

The others nodded excitedly, and a nervous smile crept onto Miles’ face.

“They’ll do an ice-breaker; you’ll get to see their style, and then, they have to show you a clip from our files. Basically, like, we tease you, but you get to see us vulnerable too.”

“Really, now?” Hobie leaned onto the back of the chair, and there was a collective eyeroll through the whole room. “Ain’t exactly easy to find one of you lot getting the better of me.”

“I have at least twenty results that say otherwise, but alright.” Gwen taunted, flinching with a squeak when Hobie glared at her.

“Anyway—” Margo spoke up, gently elbowing Hobie in the side. “How are we going to take turns? I can look for the straws again.”

Hobie leaned suddenly over the chair, one of his hands poking Miles’ cheek. “How ya feel about spinning, love?”

“Yes.” He said immediately, overlapped by Ganke’s “Absolutely not.”

“Aw, Tiger~” Hobie teased, rocking the chair slightly. “He said he wants to.”

“Miles would say yes to jumping out of a plane. We are not playing Spin the Bottle with my friend’s brain.”

“You guys play Spin the Bottle together?”

Ganke rolled his eyes, and Miles didn’t miss the blush on his face or the others snickering. “Not anymore.”

Hobie ruffled his hair to get his attention. “Because I always win.”

The smirk on his face did not help Miles’ flailing thoughts. “I-I… Wait, how do you win at—?”

Ganke had grabbed the arm of the chair, pulling hard to spin the chair as Hobie jumped back. “Step up!”

There was an excited sort of shock throughout the group before someone stepped forward and grabbed the arms of the chair. Miles flinched with a laugh as Pavitr leaned close to him.

“Uh, hey! So, I’m Pavitr Prabhakar.” He said confidently, steadying the chair before resting his hands on his chest. “I do most of the moderating on the socials, take most of the photos, and I design the costumes. Speaking of, we need to design you a costume.”

Miles nodded, and he was about to say something when Pavitr’s hands suddenly moved to his shoulders. His nails dragged slowly along Miles’ arms, and he fell into soft giggles as he curled away from him.

“That works on you, huh?” Pavitr grinned brightly. “And how about here?” He shifted to scribbles on Miles’ elbows and giggled as he snickered and crossed his arms.

It couldn’t have been an entire minute when Pavitr stopped, but he aimed some quick pokes up Miles’ sides before he pulled away and fished in his pocket for his cell phone. “Okay, it’s kind of goofy, so no judging me, but the numbers are pretty good, so I think you’ll like it.”

He set the phone in Miles’ hands, casually resting his elbow on his shoulder and leaning on him.

The clip started with Gwen, actually. She held her phone camera up to a wall mirror and waved. Hobie walked briskly behind her, putting up two fingers behind her head before ruffling her hair. Both of them laughed, and when Gwen turned, the camera got a clearer view of a small box held under her arm before it cut to a different room. Gwen had angled her camera somewhere up above a table, and she sat across from Pavitr, who was drawing something on a tablet. After a few seconds, she shifted her arms, pulling the box up from her lap and pushing it subtly toward the middle of the table.

Miles blinked, almost pausing the video. Where had he seen that box before? The video was clear enough that he could see the unique little paint details. He just couldn't remember what they were from…

Pavitr glanced up as she moved, watching her open the box and pull out a little key. The key fit into a little painted-on lock, and a mechanism was wound until it let out a few uncomfortable clicks. When the key was released, the box started to play a jingly version of “Pop Goes the Weasel”, and Pavitr smiled as he watched something the camera couldn’t see for a few seconds before going back to his drawing. Gwen leaned on one hand, watching him with a smirk. “All around the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel…” She sang casually, earning a little chuckle as Pavitr seemed to struggle with drawing something. The camera caught her leg shifting to give him a light kick on the sole of his shoe. “Pop goes the weasel~” Pavitr’s eyes had moved to her as he smiled playfully, but he was quick to return his gaze to his tablet. Coincidentally, this was when Hobie started sneaking slowly into frame behind Pavitr’s chair. He made a shushing motion to her and the camera, and she bit her lip, covering her mouth. “A penny for an artist’s brush; a penny for an easel—” She managed to keep her voice even through stifled snickers, and Pavitr murmured the lyrics with her as he tried to focus. “That’s the way the money goes; Pop—!” Suddenly, chaos. Hobie had lunged close, grabbing Pavitr’s hips right on cue, and Pavitr shrieked, nearly flinging his tablet as he fell into loud laughter from the kneading fingers on his waist. Hobie and Gwen laughed brightly, and she reached to close the music box and grab his tablet before it slipped off of the table.

“Okay, that was kind of hilarious.” Miles smirked slightly as the video ended and Pavitr leaned to take his phone back.

“You think so, huh?” He chuckled, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “It’s actually a teaser for a longer video—” Pavitr couldn’t help giggling at the curious spark that lit up Miles’ eyes, and he poked him teasingly on the nose. “—but you won’t earn that one so easily, Fish.”

Before Miles could tease him back, Pavitr had grabbed the arm of the chair and spun it again, much more gently, but still. Within a few seconds, the chair was grabbed by one arm, and Gwen seemed to flinch when his eyes met with hers. She smiled a bit shyly, shoving her hands into her pockets.

“I’m Gwen Stacy, and actually, the guys kind of stole me from the Theater Club you saw the other day. I play drums, and I write and choreograph the very rare scripted scenes we do. Not to mention trading favors with the Theater Club when we need them.”

Miles grinned up at her, leaning on one hand. “So, you’re an actor, huh? I could see that.”

She chuckled, but she shook her head. “A dancer, mostly. Plus, I do a lot of stunt practice.”

Miles bit his lip on a smirk. He might have been blushing. “So, you joined Fight Club to get into a new character?”

Gwen sneered despite the blush coloring her cheeks. “No, I joined Fight Club to wreck lees like you.” She moved quickly, her fingers scribbling across his stomach and squeezing at his hips. He flailed to grab at her wrists, loud giggles taking over his voice before he could protest.

Ganke leaned in suddenly, catching Miles’ leg halfway through an involuntary kick. “Whoa, okay!” He laughed. “Probably should have mentioned, but he kicks like a horse, so you guys might want t—”

“That’s not true!” Miles tried to argue, a squeak jumping out at another pinch on his hip.

“Uh, the bruise on my ribs from high school would like to object to that!” Ganke snuck a poke at Miles’ side as the others laughed with them.

“Wanna hold him for me real quick?” Gwen asked with a giggle, shifting to the side of the chair.

“Of course!” Ganke smirked and grabbed Miles’ ankles, pulling him down into the chair while Gwen lunged to blow a raspberry against his stomach. He giggled loudly and flailed, held up by Gwen keeping the chair in place.

“Y’know, you are tougher than you look, Fish.” She taunted, helping him back into the chair and punctuating the tease with a poke at Miles’ bellybutton as Ganke stepped back. “Pavi hit the roof when we got to my turn.”

She smirked over her shoulder, only to flinch slightly and giggle at the false step Pavitr gave her in return.

“Yeah, you’re a little too jumpy for me to be scared of you, Ghost.” Miles taunted back, reaching out and playfully beckoning her closer. She glanced subtly over Miles’ head before grinning brightly and sitting on his lap as she pulled her phone from her pocket. Miles tried—and failed—to ignore the heat rushing to his face as she showed him the video.

This video had started with Hobie kneeling on the floor, a pillow resting against his lap that Gwen was leaning on. She fiddled nervously with the sleeves and hood of her sweatshirt, her smile growing brighter when Hobie’s hand moved to pet her hair. Both of them looked up—Hobie smirking as Gwen shrunk with a squeaking giggle—and Ganke walked into frame and got down onto his knees, boxing them around Gwen’s thighs and setting his weight on her legs. He grinned playfully, quickly sneaking a poke on her already bare stomach before holding his hands up for her to see. “Hands.” He said simply, chuckling as she giggled softly. “What’s funny? Are you nervous already?” She glanced at the wall, but she nodded, pressing her own hands to her face. “Because…We’re going to tickle you~?” Ganke rested his hands on her stomach, and her hands didn’t hide how red her cheeks and ears ran. “I think we can assume that’s a yes.” He teased, poking at the back of her left hand. Hobie had glanced subtly at the camera, smirking just a little as he moved his right hand down to scratch lightly at her lower back. She squeaked and tried to squirm, giggling softly and grabbing at her hood again. “Wait, what are you laughing about?” Ganke asked, lifting his hands away from her. “I’m literally not even touching you.” Gwen suddenly flinched, giggling harder and arcing slightly away from the scribbling fingers on her back. “Dude, seriously!” Ganke stifled a laugh, trying to keep a straight face. “We haven’t even started yet! Hobie, what gives here?” “Oi, you’re asking me?!” Hobie lifted his hands away, placing one dramatically against his chest. In the same moment, Ganke’s hands dropped, fingers scribbling wildly across Gwen’s stomach and sides, and both of them sneered as she squealed. “My hands are right here, bruv; I have no idea what you’re on about.” “Well, it’s not me!” Ganke insisted again over her loud giggles, and his hands were immediately replaced by Hobie’s sneaking up into her armpits. He snickered and smirked as she laughed and tried to twist out of his hands. “Your girlfriend’s a goober, man.” “Guess I can’t argue much with that, eh?” Hobie pulled her back to her original position between them, and he clawed another squeal out of her before pulling his hands back. “What do you think, then, love? Ready to start?” Gwen glared up at him, and all three of them burst into giggles right after.

“You are actually the cutest thing.” Miles teased, poking at her side. “And I get the worst cute aggression.”

She pressed her palm to his face, giggling brightly as she fled from his hold and pulled the chair into a slow spin. Miles caught the playful smirk on Hobie’s face as she snuggled into his side, and he tried not to let his gaze linger on them too obviously. This was quickly made easier by the chair arm getting yanked to one side.

His best friend and gracious host smirked at him tauntingly. “Hey, I’m Ganke Lee, and this is Jackass.” Ganke leaned on one hand, gripping the back of the chair and looming over Miles. “Nah, but seriously, I am often your lovely host, depending on the event. I built and programmed our little website where the videos get posted, and a few other little…projects you might get to see sooner or later.”

He winked playfully, and he offered his hand to Miles with a little flourish. “Madam~?”

Miles barely contained a laugh, setting his hand in Ganke’s palm. “Aw, sir, aren’t you taken~?” He teased, giggling at the pout Ganke gave him in return.

“You think you’re so cute.” He accentuated the drawn-out sound by turning Miles’ hand and dragging his nails gingerly down the inside of his wrist. Miles flinched a bit, glancing up at Ganke as he struggled to keep a straight face. “But you still make that goofy face when I—” His grip locked around Miles’ hand, and he drew spiraling shapes into his palm.

“G—W-Wait!” He shoved at Ganke’s arm with his free hand, curling his fingers as he broke into stuttering sort of giggles and squeaks.

“Hm… Seven Silver Satchels…” Ganke hooked his thumb around two of Miles’ fingers, drawing them apart and scratching between them; he sighed, completely unfazed at the squeal and grip on his arm. “I can never remember those little stories. Ooh, except Bee Sting! I remember you loved that one before! Dammit, how did that go…?”

Miles started to laugh, trying to shove him again. He was definitely not in the market to relive much more beyond Ganke’s iron grip on his wrist. “Fuck you; you’d better not!”

“Swear Jar, 5 seconds!” Margo called out, with Pavitr half overlapping her.

Ganke suddenly released his hand, and Miles burst into louder laughter as he kneaded along his hips. “This is what happens when you run your mouth around here, Princess~ And don’t you forget who runs things, either.” He smirked, patting Miles’ shoulders as he grabbed his phone. He dragged the chair in a circle as he searched for a video, shaking his head as he chuckled and turned the phone to Miles.

The video started with Ganke looking just a bit antsy, a nervous smile pulling his lips as Pavitr stepped into the camera’s view and sat with him on the sofa. He lifted his hand expectantly, and Ganke hesitated just a little before offering his own hand. Pavitr took hold of his wrist, moving closer to Ganke as he pulled his arm out mostly straight. “Okay, so. I’m going to tell you a story.” Pavitr said simply, glancing back at Ganke’s nervous face. “Okay…” He said warily, shrinking back just a little bit. “Right, so… It’s about this guy. He’s kind of this grouchy and greedy treasure hunter type. Actually, he might just be a dragon, instead of a person. Anyway, he lives up in this, like, cave house—” As he mentioned the cave, Pavitr’s free hand moved up and scratched two fingers gently on the side of Ganke’s neck, earning a sharp flinch. “—and one day, a genie or something comes out of one of his hoard piles and tells him about this big treasure hidden somewhere along a long, narrow path.” He smiled as he watched gears turning in Ganke’s eyes, poking his cheek as he started again. “The dragon goes out and quickly finds a path nearby. At the very start, there’s this little tunnel leading into a big open cave. The walls inside are all covered with stones, and the floor has soft grass and fascinating little plants and mushrooms poking out. The cave has a spring in the middle, and when the light comes in just right, all of the stones sparkle, and the mushrooms glow. The dragon didn’t really care about all that though. He knew the stones weren’t worth much, and all of the plants might as well be common weeds. But still, he searches for a spot and starts digging.” Pavitr’s hand suddenly shoved under Ganke’s arm, fingers scribbling as he held onto his wrist and smirked at his laughter. “The impatient dragon huffs and leaves the cave, continuing down the path—” Pavitr dragged one finger along his arm, drawing circles along the inside of his elbow. “—Until he comes across this burrow in the ground. He tries to dig into it…” Ganke tried to pull back, giggling loudly as Pavitr’s nails ran wild in that spot.

Miles was a bit shocked at how strong Pavitr seemed to be; he knew for a fact that Ganke could pull pretty hard under pressure.

“And this family of rabbits pops up to yell at him. When he mentions the treasure, they all seem to smile before hopping off and calling him to follow.” Pavitr’s fingers finally walked down to Ganke’s wrist, and Ganke’s cheeks ran red as he watched him warily. He tapped along the tips of Ganke’s fingers as he spoke. “The family led him to a spot where the path branches out, and each rabbit taunted him with an offer of a different treasure. The dragon got so angry that he tore into the ground as he roared to the sky!” Pavitr scratched and scribbled at the center of his palm, grinning toothily as Ganke burst into cackles and shoved against his shoulder. He giggled a bit himself, cringing at the light slaps his captive flailed against his arm. “Yeah, I don’t actually remember how that story ends.” Pavitr shrugged, smirking toward the camera until Ganke’s free hand suddenly grabbed at his hip.

Miles hummed faintly, biting his lip on a smirk. Ganke’s hands…He’d actually forgotten about that. “And you have the nerve to think I’m cute, Mr. Lee~” He taunted.

Ganke smirked right back. “That isn’t what I said, Princess. I think you’re a little brat.” He pulled his phone away, closing the video on his and Pavitr’s laughter and ruffling Miles’ hair as he stepped back.

Miles laughed softly, watching as Pavitr playfully nudged Ganke’s side and Gwen whispered something to him. That’s three down, out of—

The chair was whipped around by one side, putting him face to face with Hobie and Margo. Both seemed to study him for a moment, playful grins taunting him.

“What do you reckon, lovely?” Hobie teased.

“I reckon I’ll lead.” She chuckled, and Hobie pat Miles’ head before disappearing behind the chair. “I’m Margo Kess, cutie. I partner with Ganke a lot; with our teammates out of the game, we do the hosting, more often than not. He says he does most of the programming, but I’m not slacking in that department. I mainly handle server maintenance, though.”

Miles grinned as he watched her. “How’s that been going? I know he can get all competitive when he meets someone good with tech.”

Margo glanced at Ganke, and a slight sneer crossed her face. “Oh, we moved past that already~ Now—” She snapped her fingers sharply, and all of a sudden, Hobie’s hands reached from behind the chair, snatching Miles’ wrists and pulling them over his head.

“Wait-wait-wait!” He squeaked, bursting into cackles when her hands shoved under his arms. She quickly stepped around to the side of the chair, managing to avoid the kicks that started almost immediately.

“Ooh, I know I’ve said it already, but you are just adorable!” Margo curled her fingers, scratching more earnestly with her nails and grinning as he shrieked. “It’s really that bad, huh? I was wondering during the match; you can’t even talk~! You’re such a teasy thing too; I hope you know that the snarkiest lers are always the squeakiest lees.” She leaned close, her voice just barely tingling along Miles’ neck and ear. “Every little trick you use is a little hint at one of your weaknesses. Like so…”

She let her fingers slow to drawn out spirals leading to the centers before circling back. Miles keened in the chair, trying to pull his arms down as he fell into giggly squeals. Margo chuckled, giving him a few final scribbles before pulling her hands away and thumbing stray tears off of his face. Hobie let his wrists go, and he wrapped his arms tight around himself as he caught his breath between giggles.

“There you go.” She pat his shoulder, and he cringed slightly as her fingers brushed too close to his neck. She smirked as she lifted her hands innocently. “Did we learn anything?”

“I…” Miles let out a soft laugh, hesitating to relax. “I bet I learned your weakness.”

She nodded with a smirk “Heh, you’re going to fit in great here. Hobie?”

Hobie chuckled, pressing something on Margo’s phone before handing it off. Margo rolled her eyes, shooting a sharp glare at Hobie before leaning on the chair to show Miles the clip.

The video started with Ganke waving to an apparently hidden camera with Margo working on a laptop nearby. “Margo, can you do me a favor real quick?” He grinned as she looked up. “I left our schedule book up in the meeting room. Should just be on the round table.” She nodded as she removed her headphones. “230, right?” “Yeah, go left from the elevator. But the east staircase is closest to it.” As she waved casually and walked out the door, Ganke grinned toothily before jogging to the camera. There was a familiar clicking sound—a phone keyboard—before the video cut to the meeting room. Hobie was leaning on one of the bookshelves, tuning a sticker-covered guitar with one hand while he looked at his phone in the other. The door opened out of frame, and Hobie glanced up as Margo walked into the room. “Hey, man.” She called to him, approaching the table where the camera was set up. “Sorry, you busy?” “Just some practice.” He shrugged, slipping his phone into his pocket. “You after me?” “No, Ganke said he needs the schedule book? It’s not on the table.” “Oh, damn. I moved that. ‘S up here.” He tapped the decorated spine of one of the binders with one finger before starting to play a few notes on his guitar. Margo set her hands on her hips for a second, chuckling as she shook her head and approached the shelf. She didn’t seem to notice Hobie smirking when she reached for the book. When her hands lifted over her head, Hobie suddenly scribbled his fingers under her arm, and his eyes lit up as she shrieked and laughed. She quickly shoved him backwards, watching him warily until he reached back to unclip his guitar strap. There was a frame of panic in her eyes when he set the guitar down and chased her off, both of them laughing outside of the frame. The video quickly cut to another scene, with Ganke setting up a camera while Margo shouted and Hobie laughed behind him. “Hobie Brown, you lanky prick!” Ganke stepped aside to reveal Hobie standing mostly rigid with one arm over his head. In his hand was a black headband with glittery purple cat ears that perfectly matched the biker jacket that Margo suddenly took off to lunge at him more properly. “Oi, come on now, I thought cats could jump!” Hobie taunted, managing to hold her back with his free hand. Hobie let her get closer, just barely lowering his arm as she reached up. He glanced slightly over her head, and Ganke stepped forward quietly. Just as it seemed like she might grab her headband, Ganke quickly slipped his hands under her arms; she yanked her arms down, nearly falling over as she squealed and laughed loudly. The video turned into a compilation of small clips. All of them ending in Margo getting tricked into being poked or outright attacked. Pretty much all Ganke and Hobie though, the only one with Pavitr ended with him as the one getting chased. There was one final clip at the end: apparently Ganke had asked Margo to grab the schedule book from the meeting room again. Margo had approached the shelves while looking at her phone, but as she noticed Hobie standing there, she paused. He smirked at her, motioning to the book with questioning eyes. She chuckled and sighed, shaking her head. “Nah, he doesn’t need it that bad.” Hobie burst into surprised laughter, pulling her into a hug against his side.

Miles let a few snickers slip out, having barely contained himself from laughing at most of the clips.

“She still falls for that, y’know.” Hobie noted, his fingers playing gently at the edge of Miles’ ear.

“The hell I do!” Margo huffed, giving Hobie that familiar side-eye.

“’Course you do. We just have to be more creative.” Miles barely noticed Hobie’s hand moving behind her shoulder until Margo’s hood was yanked off of her head. She was about to scold him when Ganke suddenly poked her as she was putting it back on.

“I am going to kill both of you.” She said, somehow sounding firm through her giggles.

“I noticed that Gwen didn’t have any little scenes in there.” Miles finally interjected without letting any laughter slip through.

Margo laughed softly, glancing over her shoulder, and Gwen blushed brightly as she looked away. “Oh, honey, Penguin knows not to play with me. Right, Tickle Button~?”

Gwen smiled shyly, hiding her face with her hood and squeaking nervously as Margo approached her.

The room was suddenly quieter: four sets of eyes suddenly focused on something above Miles’ head. He glanced up with a slight smile, finding Hobie leaning casually on the back of the chair as if he were simply waiting for something. He looked back down at Miles and let a smug grin spread across his face.

“Oh? Down to me then, is it?” His bracelets clinked together as his hands dropped to Miles’ shoulders. “Now, I’d hope you haven’t forgotten me already, love, but I’m Hobie Brown. If you hang around our little sites and junk, I make most of the music. With Gwenny, of course, when I need quality drums. Claw likes to waffle about and all, but he is right; I’m one of the three founders of this little thing.” He leaned close, and Miles squeaked as he whispered into his ear. “He’s right about the paperwork too, sweet; I honestly can’t stand that shit.”

Hobie stepped back, dragging his fingers under Miles’ chin while he nudged the chair with his hip. “I liked the way you put it the other day, actually. I am the final boss. ‘S my character when we do that kind of thing. Well, it used to be; the story’s somewhere else now, but we do what we want around here, y’know?”

“You guys have a whole story?” Miles asked with a bit of a chuckle, as if he weren’t struggling to keep from staring.

“Ain’t Shakespeare or anything, but I do think Gwen’s holding out on us sometimes.” Hobie leaned over him, pulling the side of his chin when his gaze wandered toward Gwen again. “If you survive this, we’ll fill you in on it. See whose side you fall on.”

Miles blushed, smiling excitedly as he ran his fingers along Hobie’s bracelets. “You all seem so keen on killing me. You’re making me think I’m the real boss now.”

The light caught on browns and greens in Hobie’s shocked eyes, and the others snickered around whispered comments. Hobie chuckled, loosely taking Miles’ hand and letting one of his bracelets slip over his hand. He passed it over Miles’ fingers with his thumb, tapping the gold band before poking his nose.

“Then I’ll give you a li’l fight, Freckles.” As Hobie looked up, Pavitr tossed him what Miles quickly recognized as the strap from Hobie’s guitar case. Or a spare one, at least. He made a single loop through the buckle, and before Miles could think of a snarky question, Hobie had snatched both of his legs. He quickly realized that the strap was just a scare tactic—not that it didn’t work, of course; the shock that ran through him when it cinched around his shins was something else—but he still found himself flailing when Hobie’s arm hooked his ankles while his free hand pried at the heels of his sneakers. He wasn’t entirely sure who suddenly pushed against the chair to keep him from slipping onto the floor, but the room felt charged with excitement. The others talked over each other before trying to shush themselves.

Hobie chuckled as he glanced back for a moment. “Let’s see what we’re working with, eh?” Miles hadn’t even heard his first shoe hit the floor before Hobie was scribbling his fingers across the mostly black sole on his sock. Miles gripped at the arms of the chair, quickly falling into loud laughter. “Oho, he’s such a ticklebug, isn’t he? Not a safe spot on this one.”

Miles squealed and flailed for a second, his hands clutching at his sleeves. “D-Don’t tease—No!” He tried to struggle, finding Ganke and Margo at his sides to keep him from falling again.

There was a sudden pause. The others gasped softly as Hobie went quiet for a moment. He chuckled again. “Ah, there he is~ Little feckin’ hypocrite.” The other shoe dropped; Hobie’s nails dug right under Miles’ toes, and Hobie sneered as he shrieked. “You can talk all day long, but you can’t take it~? So if I just… Tickle tickle tickle~?”

“Hobie!” Miles nearly whined, and Hobie laughed just a bit tauntingly.

“Oh, and he’s so cute! You’re lucky this is just the test run, love; I know some games that would kill you~!” He scratched purposefully at some of the small sunflowers printed along Miles’ socks before prodding his toes again and smirking as he giggled. “Ooh, I bet you shriek at piggies too, you little punk.”

He tapped his fingers casually on Miles’ heels, glancing over his shoulder again. “What are we thinkin’, lads?”

Miles panted softly and rested his arms over his face, smile stuck on his lips as he listened to the others conspiring.

“Just one more?” Gwen’s voice. Miles felt something tap on his knee and down his leg.

“Once more, eh? I—” Hobie suddenly laughed. “See, this is why you have my heart, Gwenny.”

Miles pulled his arms down, only for Ganke to loosely grip his wrists. He almost started to say something when another shriek ripped from his mouth. Ganke just barely managed to keep him from flailing, hugging him tight as he cackled and writhed. Gwen had looped the tail of the strap between her hands, holding his ankles mostly in place while Hobie’s nails scratched under his toes and the hairbrush in his other hand scrubbed relentlessly over both soles.

“Okay, okay!” Miles laughed, trying to struggle. “Stop it; I can’t—!”

Hobie chuckled tauntingly, tapping Miles’ foot with the back of the brush as he stood up. He took a gentle hold on Miles’ chin, smirking as he looked into his eyes. “Poor, poor Fish~” He pulled his hand away, patting his head before turning to walk. “He’s a keeper, alright, Claw.”

The room got quiet again. Gwen slipped the strap off of Miles’ legs, and Ganke softly rubbed his shoulders as he caught his breath. Both of them watched Hobie expectantly, but they also knew better than to be quiet.

“Uh, Hobie?” Gwen tried first.

“Mhm?” Hobie smirked back at her, resting his hands on his hips.

“Dude, seriously?” Ganke crossed his arms, pouting a bit.

“What? I don’t know what you’re upset about~” Hobie shrugged and took the guitar strap from Gwen, casually shouldering past her to put it away.

“Ugh. This guy…”

“Oh! I got one for him.” Gwen said, quickly pulling her phone from her pocket again.

“No, you fucking don’t.” Hobie snatched Gwen off of the floor, ignoring her surprised squeal and handing Ganke his own phone. “Twistin’ my arm all the damn time.” He stuck his tongue out, playfully shoving Ganke’s shoulder.

“We wouldn’t have to if you weren’t a menace.” Ganke taunted back, poking Hobie’s side. “Swear Jar, by the way. Five seconds.”

Miles heard Hobie laugh before a playful argument broke out, but frankly, he was still kind of winded. He smiled slightly as Ganke leaned on the chair with him and showed him the clip Hobie had apparently chosen.

The final video was marked as another teaser. Hobie and Ganke sat at a table across from each other with a microphone between them. Hobie’s face suddenly changed as he looked over Ganke’s shoulder where the camera couldn’t see; he pouted slightly, and Ganke smirked, lifting the tablet in front of him. “So, Spider-Punk~” He began with a playful smirk. “Our one and only Hobie. Finally got you to sit for a Q and A, huh?” He was speaking deliberately slow, and he rested his chin on one hand. Hobie glared at him with a slight grin of his own, about to speak when his voice caught on a stifled noise. “J-Just get on with it…” Ganke’s grin widened, and he set the tablet down to just watch him. “Aw, but why? We have so much time. The audience has been dying to get to know you; tell us about yourself.” Hobie flinched, stifling a giggle against the side of his hand. “I—That’s what the damn questions are for, isn’t it?” Ganke tsked softly and shook his head, poking something on the tablet screen. “Well, that’s not very nice.” “Wait, no—!” Hobie cracked, giggles escaping behind half a snort. “I’m sorry, okay?” “Ooh, that’s special!” Ganke glanced over at the camera. “He usually doesn’t apologize that fast.” The look in Hobie’s eyes could probably cut glass if he wasn’t struggling to shut himself up. Ganke chuckled and crossed his arms as he leaned back and scrolled through the tablet. “Let’s call it a good sign for what’s to come. I hope you all are as excited as I am. You certainly didn’t waste time filling up the question box for this one. We have about…fifteen that we’re going to try to get through; and we’ll see if Hobie can take the heat~” He spared a glance at Hobie, giving a knowing smirk to the camera before pressing something. While Ganke had been talking, Hobie had let his head sink into his arms on the table, stifled laughter shaking his shoulders while one hand gripped at his sleeve. The microphone managed to pick up some giggly whining—most notably: “Gwendy, c’mon…”—before he suddenly shrieked after the button was pressed. “You little—!” Hobie’s voice broke into near-cackles, and Ganke snickered as the table shook. “Okay, okay; let’s do this for real.” Ganke called teasingly, knocking twice on the table and reaching to pat Hobie’s head while he panted and groaned. “…fucking hate you both.” Hobie huffed out, and the video faded to an end card as Ganke laughed.

Ganke huffed and rolled his eyes hard. “Ugh, he would pick the one where we can’t even see what’s happening. We’ll have to weasel it out of him later.”

Miles laughed softly, nudging Ganke’s arm. “You’re still playing Hot Seat? Without me?! Dude, come on!”

“Somethin’ you know about, Sunflower?” Hobie called playfully, as if he didn’t have Gwen upside down over his shoulder.

Miles scoffed, reaching one hand to lace his fingers with Gwen’s while she giggled. “We raised money for the yearbook playing Hot Seat. Twice! I just had Calculus with people from Mathletes and Debate Club; they’re still claiming the other’s team cheated.”

Ganke snickered. “Seriously? Oh my gosh, it was Skye and Gina, wasn’t it?”

“Yes! Which is wild because I’m pretty sure they’re also dating now.”

“Then maybe Skye can help her with her math problems so she wins the next one.”

They laughed, but then Ganke’s eyes lit up as he grabbed Miles’ shoulders. “Miles! You survived the gauntlet!”

Miles paused and smirked a bit, pulling his hand back. “Um, obviously? It takes a bit more than that to kill me.”

“Like thirty more seconds?” Margo suggested, fluttering her nails against his neck.

The others laughed just a bit teasingly when he squealed.

A new conversation had started up about where they’d be taking Miles for lunch. And by conversation, one means competition. Miles, being more or less part of the reward, wasn’t playing, and Gwen apparently didn’t care much about what they got. Though it was just as likely that she didn’t feel like getting jumped right after being held upside down for five minutes straight.

“So~ Ghost.” Miles began casually, rolling the chair over to where Gwen sat perched on the couch arm while the others fought and laughed over Mario Kart tracks.

She looked up from the stuffed penguin she was fidgeting with, smiling softly at him. “So, Fish.”

Okay, he definitely needed a new nickname now. “I think I’ve received some context clues suggesting that you have a boyfriend.”

She chuckled, resting her chin on the penguin’s head. “I might~ He tends to prefer ‘partner’ though.”

His gaze might have wandered to where Hobie sat trying to sneak tickles on Pavitr’s side. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“What about you? Anyone waiting for you?”

“Not beside some hamsters. And I’m not even their favorite.”

“Aw, you poor thing~!” She poked his nose playfully. “You seem a little too cute not to be hooked already.”

“Well, y’know, if you’re up for fishing.” He smiled as she stifled a giggle.

“What exactly are you asking me?”

Miles cringed, drumming his fingers on the chair arm. “I—Well… You can say no if it bothers you; it’s not like it’d be the first time. But, um…What would be your boundary for a relationship? Like, between us?”

Her eyes widened just a bit, but she grinned and chuckled. “That’s actually really forward; I appreciate you being up front.” She said gently, softly nudging his face with her penguin. “Well~ I wouldn’t say I’m entirely off the market. But I’m a package deal kinda thing right now. If you really want to go for me, you have to take him too.” She smirked playfully, resting her chin on her hand.

“I cannot begin to explain to you how little that bothers me.” Miles barely managed to keep a straight face, and she laughed, shaking her head.

“What are you losers chattin’ about?” Hobie appeared suddenly, and Miles flinched as his breath passed his neck.

“Stop doing that!” He giggled, bringing his hands up to his neck and immediately squeaking at a poke on his side.

“I’ll stop doin’ it when you stop laughing.” Hobie pulled the chair aside just enough to slip his arm around Gwen. “Well?”

“Miles wants to hang with us.” Gwen leaned against Hobie’s side, “The two of us, I mean.”

Hobie seemed shocked for a second—Miles had a feeling he should pretend not to notice—and a smug grin spread across his face. “Aw, Sunflower… You know how I feel about cute lees.” He practically purred, running his fingers under Miles’ chin.

Miles chuckled softly, taking hold of his hand. He started to say something when—

“Yes!” Margo shouted, jumping up and laughing triumphantly. “That’s what you get for starting stuff, Pavi!”

Pavitr flailed as she tried to ruffle his hair, and he and Ganke let her boast for a moment while they put the Switch away.

“Alright, alright; where are we heading?” Ganke smirked as Margo finally turned to him.

“Remember that diner? The one by Midtown High?”

He gasped. “Dude! You should have said that earlier! Miles, you’ll love this place. Everyone pack up!”

The group quickly grabbed all of their things, shifting all the furniture they had moved back into place before locking the room. It wasn’t until they had returned the key and got to Ganke’s van that Miles noticed anyone missing.

“Wait, where are Hobie and Pavitr?” He asked while the others were trying to decide how to Tetris his backpack in with the rest of their things in the trunk.

“Oh, they won’t be long.” Gwen had a knowing grin on her face as she looked down at him, returning her focus to holding Hobie’s guitar case in place while Margo closed the trunk. Sure enough, just as Ganke was starting the car, Pavitr came running up to the side and opened the door.

“Sorry!” He said quickly, scrambling into the middle row with Miles and Gwen and buckling his seatbelt.

“Pav, chill; they weren’t going to leave us.” As Hobie climbed into the van, Miles couldn’t help staring. Each of those marks that he’d seen on Hobie’s face now held a shiny silver piercing of some kind. Both of his eyebrows, both of his ears, his nose, and his lip. He closed the door and let himself sprawl out on the back row, stretching for a moment as he finally glanced at Miles staring.

“Hobie, seatbelt.” Ganke called back, slowly pulling the car out of the parking space.

Hobie smirked slightly, rolling his eyes as he stuck his tongue out. The silver stud there just barely caught the light from the windows before Hobie leaned back to buckle himself in behind Gwen. She reached up to lightly pinch Miles’ cheek, redirecting his staring to her.

“Heh. Freckles.” She teased, patting his shoulder before pulling her phone from her pocket.

Miles grinned to himself, relaxing into the seat. It was going to be a good summer.

[lancermylove]

Chapter 6 (N.SFW)

➣ Pairing: Demon brothers, Royals, Solomon with fem!Reader. ➣ Warning: N.SFW ➣ Word Count: 2,403 ➣ Chapters [SFW]: [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12] ➣ Chapters [N.SFW]: [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12]

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You chuckled at the sparkles in Diavolo's eyes as he described the events of their outing yesterday. His vibrant and enchanting energy was quite contagious. However, what captivated you most was the prince's ability to act as an ordinary individual without carrying the weight of his royal duties. Even Asmo appeared to notice this as he giggled while relishing a piece of fruit from his breakfast bowl.

"Then, we witnessed children dressed in elf costumes, and they were creating, I believe Solomon referred to it as, a snowman. But then he stated we had much to see, so I was unable to witness the final form of the man of snow," the prince merrily spoke without taking a breath, "which upset me greatly. However, Solomon acquired an image from the web, but it could not match the splendor of witnessing one in actuality."

"Young master, do remember to breathe and finish your breakfast," Barbatos calmly said from the opposite side of the kitchen. His words drew laughter from you and Asmo, and while Diavolo finished the remainder of the food on his porcelain plate, the Avatar of Gluttony took the spotlight.

"There were so many ice sculptures shaped, and they look crunchy and delicious," Beel grinned, but his lips quickly tugged into a flat line. "But everyone stopped me from taking a bite. Solomon said the artists worked hard to make them."

"The ice sculptures were beautiful. If only they had one of me," Asmo giggled. "Diavolo, what if we had an ice sculpture festival in Devildom?"

"An excellent suggestion, Asmodeus. Having a winter wonderland of our own sounds delightful," the prince nodded. "Furthermore, I quite enjoyed witnessing Santa's workshop and would like to have one in Devildom. I could don Santa's attire while the rest of you could be my elves."

At his words, you glanced at the butler, who was occupied with chopping ingredients for dinner. Your vivid imagination conjured the image of Barbatos with elf-like pointed ears, adorned in a vibrant green attire and carrying a satchel filled to the brim with treats. The thought of a dignified demon in an adorable, flamboyant outfit made you giggle. As if sensing your gaze, he briefly glanced at you with an eyebrow raised, but you quickly looked away.

"We could also install an ice skating ring. Due to our time constraint, my wish to ice skate remains unfulfilled," Diavolo sighed, but Barbatos seemed a bit alerted by the grand schemes the prince suggested.

"My lord, I apologize for dampening the mood, but I fear the council will not sanction your suggestions. They will likely view them as superfluous expenditures and may cause trouble for you," the butler said in an effort to dissuade the prince from traversing down that path.

Hearing his words disheartened Diavolo, yet he was aware the Barbatos's concerns held merit. The council already voiced their distrust in the prince and expressed their desire for the king to rise from his deep slumber on multiple occasions. He appreciated the butler's concern and wisdom but was still upset at the possibility that his ideas might not come to fruition.

"Aw, don't be upset, Diavolo," Asmo said with a small smile and gently patted the prince's arm. "Those ancient grouches don't know the definition of fun."

You sympathized with Diavolo but didn't know how to comfort him. How could the Crown Prince of the Devildom have less decisional authority than the council members? He was a kind and benevolent prince who always thought of the well-being of the residents in Devildom, yet the council refused to acknowledge his endeavors. Moreover, it felt as though they were waiting for him to take one misstep so they could question his leadership abilities. 'Talk about evil.'

"Oh, (y/n), I forgot to tell you about our fans," Asmo chimed in an attempt to lighten the thick atmosphere. "We had a crowd gathered around us! They were complimenting and taking photos of us. Some even asked for our numbers, but the situation got so bad that the security guards had to intervene."

Beel laughed and nodded, "They offered to take me out to eat."

Once again, your imagination ran wild. The thought of Beelzebub's voracious appetite taking control of him as he devoured the entirety of the restaurant made you shudder. But imagining the expressions of the onlookers made you quietly chuckle. 'That would be one expensive date.'

"(Y/n)," the sixth brother softly said, bringing you back to reality, "you and Belphie did a great job decorating the tree."

"Thank you, but Belphie did most of the work," you chuckled.

"Don't be so modest, sweetie!" Asmo sweetly said as he handed you a small, festive gift bag with a scarf. "As a thank you for your hard work, we have a little something for you."

The silky softness of the cashmere scarf patterned with wintery and festive motifs drew a smile to your face. "Thank you, Asmo. It's perfect for the season! By the way, have any of you seen Mammon?"

"Come back! I ain't goin' to hurt ya."

You heard Mammon's voice in the distance and quietly headed in his direction, but upon arriving, you tilted your head and blinked rapidly. The Avatar of Greed cautiously approached a reindeer with a red spherical object in his hand, his expression hopeful despite the creature's skepticism. For a few moments, you watched them, baffled yet fascinated until Mammon leaped forward and tried to press the sphere on the reindeer's nose. The deer immediately bolted in the opposite direction, kicking up a plume of fresh snow as it fled, and left a disappointed Mammon lying on the ground, face flat in the snow.

"Mammon, what are you doing?" You inquired, trying to hold back your laughter. Rolling over on his back, the second brother sighed exasperatedly in defeat.

"Satan was talkin' 'bout Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, sayin' all human like him. And I wanted to see ya smile, so I tried to put this red nose on that reindeer," he sighed loudly. "But the deer ain't havin' it."

His reasoning surprised you, but a sensation of warmth spread throughout your entire body. However, you wondered why Mammon thought you needed to be cheered up. With a quiet giggle, you spoke your mind, "But I am not sad, Mammon."

"Look, I ain't the smartest demon, but even I can tell somethin' is goin' on with you, Lucifer, Barbatos, and Diavolo," he declared as he stood up and dusted the snow off his clothes. First, Lucifer, then Solomon, and now, Mammon? Had everyone figured out something was going on behind the scenes? Noticing your discomfort, he continued, "Hey, I ain't goin' to ask ya to tell me if you don't wanna. But I am here for ya, y'know. If you wanna talk or somethin'."

"Mammon, I wish I could say 'you are a true angel.' But thanks. I will keep that in mind," you tenderly smiled but quickly changed the topic. "Speaking of angels. Want me to teach you how to make a snow angel?"

"A snow...angel?" Mammon repeated with a hint of confusion. "What's that?"

In a wordless display of your actions, you lay down on the ground and fully stretched your limbs as the Avatar of Greed curiously observed your moves. As you began to sweep your arms and legs through the powdery snow, a shape emerged, catching Mammon by surprise. You cautiously rose from the ground and created a slightly uneven halo atop its head. "Voila. A snow angel! Your turn."

Mammon didn't respond but studied the imprint he had left in the snow after attempting to attach the red nose to the reindeer. In a moment of playful creativity, he crouched down with a mischievous smile and dipped his index finger into the snow. With a few strokes, he added horns and a tail to the impression. "Voila. A snow devil. Take that snow angel!"

Your laughter echoed through the opening in the center of the forest, "Speaking of the devil. What were you hiding behind your back a few days ago? You know, the small blue and black packets."

"Huh? I dunno what you're talkin' 'bout," Mammon mumbled and averted his gaze momentarily.

"Suuuure, you don't, Mammon," you chuckled. "Wait, aren't you supposed to be decorating the exterior of the cabin?"

"Yeah, and Solomon's supposed to be helpin', but he ran off. I ain't doin' everythin' by myself," he slightly frowned and threw his hands up in the air.

You hopped off the step-up and took a moment to admire your handiwork. A faux pine wreath adorned with a crimson ribbon hung outside the main door, its vibrant color standing out against the albescent backdrop. The tails of the ribbon occasionally fluttered in the light, chilly breeze. Nestled in the door frame was a pine garland with soft white LED lights gently illuminating the pine needles. Pine cones and berries served as a festive accent amongst the branches.

A sudden, ear-piercing thud resounded across the winter landscape, quickly followed by a grunt. Your head quickly pivoted in the direction of the noise, and you laid your eyes upon something quite unexpected: the legs of the Avatar of Greed poking out of a mound of fluffy snow. As you hurried over to investigate, Mammon's voice emanated from beneath the powder-laden mass, "Why do I gotta do all the hard stuff?"

You let out a light, giggling laugh as you took in the amusing sight of Mammon stuck in the snowy pile with festive string lights on top of him. Hearing you laugh, he huffed and averted his gaze in protest, "That ain't funny. I could've been seriously hurt fallin' from the roof like that, y'know."

"Sorry. Sorry," you giggled. "Let me help you out of there."

You quickly helped the Avatar of Greed extricate himself from the icy clutches of the snowy abyss, but to no avail did he appear to appreciate your efforts. Once he returned to his feet, he loudly dusted the snow off his clothes with a frown on his slightly dry lips. To brighten his mood, you carefully formed a snowball and lightly delivered it to his shoulder, its powdery substance flying through the air and landing with a small poof on his body.

Mammon's somber expression softened momentarily as he glanced at the place where you threw the snowball. Seizing the opportunity, you engaged him further and tossed another snowball in hopes of seeing the Avatar of Greed smile or at least have a reaction. But to your dismay, he refused to acknowledge your actions, his body language portraying a sullen, unamused air about him.

Exasperated with your futile attempts to cheer Mammon up, you sighed and turned away, but as soon as your back faced him, you heard a soft whoosh, followed by a poof on your shoulder. In a few minutes, laughter permeated the air as the two of you tossed countless snowballs at each other. The snowball fight soon turned into a chase through the woods.

Your playful antics led you and Mammon atop a hidden corner in the forest as curtains of snow began to cascade from the heavens. The chase came to a halt when you noticed a quaint cave nestled in a stone wall. The two of you glanced at one another, contemplating whether you should explore the unknown lair.

"What if the cave has a bear or something dangerous?" You nervously asked, stepping closer to him.

"Never fear 'cause Mammon the Great is here," he responded in a slightly deeper voice but quickly added in a softer tone, "What are ya worried about? I ain't gonna let anythin' happen to ya."

Placing your trust in him, the two of you ventured into the darkened cavernous depth, your curious gazes set on discovering its mysteries and treasures. Halfway through, your wandering gazes halted as you stumbled upon an otherworldly sight. One wall of the dreary cave housed a plethora of glowworms; each radiated a distinct blue light, and together, they created an iridescent symphony resembling the starry night sky. Before the wall lay a pitch-black pool that mirrored the bioluminescence, further adding to the enchantment.

As the two of you observed the artful display of nature, a moment of silence ensued. Eventually, Mammon tore his eyes from the scene and directed his gaze at you. The azure glow softly highlighted your features and added a touch of vibrancy to your eyes, blessing you with a heavenly appearance. The demon's heart fluttered as his breath slowly escaped him.

"(Y/n). You...look beautiful," he whispered as heat spread across his cheeks. In the soothing glow, your eyes stared at each other longingly, secretly conveying the feelings buried in your hearts.

With a spark of heat and longing, your face inched closer and closer until they met in a sweet kiss. The soft embrace of your lips sent your thoughts and emotions into overdrive, stirring your boundless desires for each other. Like a wave crashing against the shoreline, your lips collided in an ever-building storm of sparks. Your breath grew heavier as your kisses grew more passionate, every nerve and inch of skin alive with the electricity of the moment. Your bodies pressed into each other, your hands exploring curves and dips, your movements as swift as tides.

Soon, your jacket came undone, followed by the buttons on your shirt and the clip in front of your bra. The sight of your delicate and bare chest skyrocketed Mammon's desire as he tossed his jacket aside and tore open his shirt. In the blink of an eye, your back was against a wall, your soft chest rubbing against his muscular one, your arms tightly coiled around his neck, and your legs wrapped around his waist.

While your tongues tangled and caressed one another, your hips moved in perfect sync, dancing to the rhythm of your unbridled passion. Heavy breathing and soft moan filled the confines of the inner cave. As his pace increased, the sounds became louder and more frequent, turning into soft cries of pleasure and desperate gasps for air. 

In the secluded alcove, you and Mammon were enraptured by your carnal desire for one another, and neither one of you wanted to stop. In the safety of the stone structure, your hips repeatedly met in myriad positions. It was only you and him in your own little world.

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➣  Please visit my website for the full masterlist!

[thethirdromana]

The many, many references of chapter XI of Dorian Gray

This chapter can come across as a bit of a long, boring list of stuff. That's partly because it is a long, boring list of stuff, as we see how shallow Dorian's life of collecting trinkets and misdeeds is, compared with his lofty ambitions to be some kind of thought-leader of his age.

But it's Wilde, so a lot of this chapter has references and connotations that might not be obvious.

the sordid room of the little ill-famed tavern near the docks OK, this isn't particularly subtle given Wilde already tells us it's sordid and ill-famed. But it's probably not just a dodgy pub. Being near the docks implies that Dorian is hanging out with people in the lower classes, almost certainly including sex workers. I think there might also be a nudge-nudge wink-wink implication of homosexuality here - docks mean sailors, and the navy already had a reputation for homosexuality in Wilde's time.

Like Gautier, he was one for whom “the visible world existed.” Théophile Gautier, a French writer, critic and defender of Romanticism. He was flamboyant, unconventional and had lots of affairs.

he might really become to the London of his own day what to imperial Neronian Rome the author of the Satyricon once had been The author of the Satyricon is Petronius, a Roman courtier in the reign of Nero. He was dedicated to a life of pleasure and indulgence, and was an authority on questions of fashion and taste.

the materialistic doctrines of the Darwinismus movement in Germany Darwinismus means proto-eugenics, essentially. You know, in case you needed any more reasons to dislike Dorian.

the one that Bernal Diaz saw when he went with Cortes into the Mexican temple, and of whose doleful sound he has left us so vivid a description "They had an exceedingly large drum there, and when they beat it the sound of it was so dismal and like, so to say, an instrument of the infernal regions, that one could hear it a distance of two leagues, and they said that the skins it was covered with were of those great snakes." Wouldn't say it was that vivid a description, to be honest.

appeared at a costume ball as Anne de Joyeuse, Admiral of France, in a dress covered with five hundred and sixty pearls Despite how this sounds, Anne de Joyeuse was a man, and Dorian didn't go to the ball in drag. Anne de Joyeuse was probably one of Henry III's lovers. (This is the start of a theme developing).

Alexander, the Conqueror of Emathia This is Alexander the Great. (The theme continues).

Lodge’s strange romance ‘A Margarite of America’ A 16th century romance about the love affair between a Peruvian prince and a Russian princess. With a lot of gory bits.

the Duke de Valentinois, son of Alexander VI Otherwise known as Cesare Borgia, who inspired Machiavelli to write The Prince. There are all sorts of rumours about Cesare Borgia, ranging from having lots of mistresses (true) to gay relationships and incest with his sister (probably not true).

Charles of England had ridden in stirrups hung with four hundred and twenty-one diamonds This is presumably Charles I rather than Charles II (who was also Charles of England). Historic Royal Palaces - the people who run the Tower of London, among others - have him on their list of LGBT+ monarchs. They highlight this painting, where he's gazing at George Villiers, who also shagged his dad:

Richard II had a coat, valued at thirty thousand marks, which was covered with balas rubies Richard II, who was rumoured to have had an affair with Richard de Vere, Earl of Oxford.

Henry VIII Who only had relationships with women, as far as history is aware.

The favourites of James I wore ear-rings of emeralds set in gold filigrane Back on the theme again. James I was Charles I's dad, who had a secret passage built between his bedchamber and that of his favourite, George Villiers - the one in the picture up there ^. While most of the people on this list were only rumoured to have had gay relationships, no one really disputes it for James I.

Edward II gave to Piers Gaveston a suit of red-gold armour That would be his lover, Piers Gaveston.

Henry II. wore jewelled gloves reaching to the elbow Henry II, who was known to have shared a bed with William Marshal, the Earl of Pembroke. Which doesn't necessarily mean anything, but... you know. There's a theme.

Charles the Rash, the last Duke of Burgundy of his race At this point I can't tell if Wilde is deliberately throwing in some misdirection, like the mention of Henry VIII, or if my Google-powers have failed me.

the mortuary cloth of King Chilperic Oh hang on a tick. King Chilperic was a 6th century monarch who is known, among other things, for having strangled his wife. Just as Henry VIII had two of his wives executed. So the theme here is either queer relationships - or murdered women.

(We then of course get a series of notable historical figures who, so far as I can tell, don't have any connections to either of these things. Also this bit goes on for ages and this post is already very long, so I'm going to skip past them).

dreadful places near Blue Gate Fields A slum area just north of the docks in East London. Known for opium dens, brothels and murders. Some people have suggested this is an allusion to Jack the Ripper, even a suggestion that Oscar Wilde knew who Jack the Ripper was, which I'm reasonably confident is nonsense.

brawling with foreign sailors in a low den in the distant parts of Whitechapel So what I'm finding quite funny here is that all the dodgy and dissolute places that Wilde has Dorian go are literally just the same place.

Near the docks = East London, probably in the area of Whitechapel Blue Gate Fields = Whitechapel the distant parts of Whitechapel = that would be Whitechapel, then?

The very odd Jack the Ripper website I just read interprets Wilde's descriptions as meaning that he had some kind of hidden knowledge of London's underworld... just as the Ripper would have!! But to me this reads a lot more like Wilde was aware of one (1) suitably shady-sounding location and ran with it.

Here was Philip Herbert That would be James I's lover, Philip Herbert. (What, you thought we were done with these?)

Sir Anthony Sherard Is fictional, but...

the lover of Giovanna of Naples Giovanna of Naples was a real person, who probably murdered her husband. (Nice to get some variety among the murdered spouses).

Lady Elizabeth Devereux A Tudor noblewoman, known for a quite public affair.

George Willoughby... had been a macaroni of the eighteenth century, and the friend, in his youth, of Lord Ferrars I can't find much on George Willoughby, but Lord Ferrers shot his steward, and is known as the last peer to have been hanged in England.

the second Lord Beckenham... he had led the orgies at Carlton House Lord Beckenham is (I think) fictional; George IV, who held wild and extravagant parties at Carlton House, is not.

Tiberius, in a garden at Capri Googling this brings up articles titled things like "The Scandalous Private Life of Tiberius Caesar". That makes it sound like the fun activities of consenting adults, but that's grossly misleading. The people involved were rumoured to be often neither consenting nor adults.

reading the shameful books of Elephantis Elephantis was a Greek poet and physician who wrote a sex manual.

Caligula... Domitian... Elagabalus Caligula was known for sex and murder. Domitian was known for censorship and control of public morals. Elagabalus was known for sexual promiscuity with men and women.

And that's the lot! For the last few paragraphs of the chapter, Wilde actually spells out the various misdeeds of the people he discusses (sex and murder, unsurprisingly), thus sparing me from Googling them.

Congratulations if you made it this far.

[wrestlingarsenal]

Here are some more images from the recent episode of "Dark Side of the Ring" (S5, E6) featuring Chris Colt, aka Paul Dupree, originally named Charles "Chuck" Harris. I will just call him Chris Colt. According to the documentary, Colt's career really took off after he met Tag Team partner, and love of his life, Ron Dupree.

Colt started wrestling in 1964 and teamed up with Dupree by 1966 when they formed the "California Hell's Angels" tag team. They presumably began hooking up around that same time. (They were a gay couple, the other wrestlers all knew it.)

In those days, being Tag Team partners was perhaps the best cover for gay lovers. Even straight tag teams were presented as a couple: wearing matching costumes, wedded under a single team name, combining their total weight, and frequently posing for photos arm-in-arm. As partners, Dupree and Colt could love each other right in the open without many fans even suspecting they were actual, like, partner-partners.

The campiness and flamboyance of pro wrestling also permitted them to wear really queer matching outfits and to use the same last name by pretending to be brothers. Hotel costs add up, so it just made sense for a travelling tag team to share a bed -- I mean, a room.

According to "Dark Side of the Ring," Colt lived a rough and depressing life, beginning with his abusive, alcoholic father and ending with a lonely AIDS-related death in a homeless shelter (or perhaps in an alley with a needle in his arm) in 1995.

So it made me happy to know that, at least he was able to experience this one presumably loving relationship for about a decade. And how perfect for a wrestling addict, to find a partner who also gets into wrestling!

Ron Dupree, who was older by 8 or 10 years, would sadly die of a heart attack in 1975, which obviously devastated Colt and sent him into a tailspin of addiction and suicidal thoughts for his remaining 20 years on this planet.

I'm not sure what magazine featured the below article, which appears briefly on screen during the "Dark Side of the Ring" episode. It might be from one of those 1970s wrestling mags, but it seems too explicit and revealing for a typical kayfabe publication. The gay lovers are practically outed by the magazine: "Ronnie leaped up and started a pillow fight with Paul. But Paul didn't fight back." What, exactly, does THAT imply? Did either of them bite the pillow?

Please send me the entire article if you can find it in your archives of old wrestling beat-off materials...

[the-bar-sinister]

Sandstorms and Starfall (32036 words) by VickytheSnake, thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 8/15

Summary: When Vivi makes a midnight escape from the palace of Alabasta and flees the country in an attempt to get stronger and rejoin the Straw Hat pirates as a full crew member she finds herself unsure of her path forward. That is until a chance meeting brings her face to face with her former enemy, and former hero, Sir Crocodile who agrees to help her on her quest to find a devil fruit for herself.

It's surprisingly easy to make peace with the former warlord, if not to forgive or trust him. But the longer she spends around him, and the former Baroque Works agents helping her find her way through the Grand Line, the more she finds that the troubles in her heart are not the simple ones that she expected to be facing.

catch up here

-

"Croco, baby!" Bon Clay cooed, throwing his arms around him as they entered the room. "And is that the Princess of Alabasta? Did you kidnap her, or did she kidnap you?"

The 'VIP' dressing room they'd entered had just as smokey and boozy an atmosphere as the main club itself had. There was a lighted mirror, and pieces of costuming strewn everywhere, and a couple of empty bottles sitting among the piles of makeup.

Vivi flushed, sputtering as she stared at the flamboyant and unforgettable Bon Clay embrace Crocodile. 'Did she kidnap him' indeed! She rubbed her arm with a deepening flush. 

"It's…it's just Vivi actually. I– I'm a pirate, not the princess anymore. And I kidnapped him, as a matter of fact." 

Bon stood on tip-toes to kiss Crocodile several times on the face, leaving lipstick marks there, before he threw himself on Vivi in turn.

"Pirate Vivi! Oh that has a ring to it, dear. Congratulations!"

Crocodile chuckled, shaking his head. "Glad to see you too, Bon."

Vivi squeaked, nearly toppling but catching herself and Bon with a hug in return as she grinned up at him. "Oh! Ah, thank you! I think so too, Bon! I'm over the moon that you're okay, you know! I was hoping you got out alright!"

He had so much energy, just like that time on the ship, just like every time they'd ever seen him. It was almost impossible not to be a little charmed by him. 

"And I was still in the 'find out if Bon's still alive' part of the rescue plan," Crocodile said, wiping off kiss marks with a handkerchief from his pocket. "How the hell'd you get out?"

"Well, you know me, Croccy, I honestly just walked right out," he said, playing with Vivi's hair for a moment before he released her. "That's after the sweethearts all convinced me that I should. I felt guilty, you know, being able to get myself out and not anybody else."

Vivi tilted her head to the side, flustered but smiling as she came to stand again under her own power. "Sweethearts?" she asked curiously "I heard you helped my captain get out but…who are your prison sweethearts?" 

"Oh now this is a story," Bon laughed. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the table. "Is this a private audience, or should we go back to your table, Croc?"

"If you're in the mood for telling stories, let's take it back to the table," Crocodile grinned. "We've got our own to tell you about. But no getting into any fights, eh?"

"I'll behave," he purred, striking a match and lighting his cigarette. "I know you'll spank me if I'm too naughty."

Vivi watched Crocodile, 8 feet tall and cool as his namesake, turn red and take his cigar out of his mouth to cough.

"C'mon," he huffed, waving his hooked arm. "Back to the table. You're a menace in a backroom."

Vivi had gone just as red as he was, sputtering again as she pressed her hand to her face.

"Wow. Uh…I was really missing out on a lot during those Baroque Works meetings, I guess…" she murmured as she pushed her hair out of her face.

Bon Clay just laughed and sucked on his cigarette, leading them out of the VIP room.

-

If it had been a party atmosphere before, it was more than double once Bon Clay joined them at the table. The drinks and smokes flowed freely, and everyone was laughing and sitting close to one another. Sitting himself directly in Zala's lap, arm wrapped around his shoulders, Bon Clay regaled them with the story of his time in Impel Down, starting with Luffy's escape.

Zala had slung her arm around him, just under his leaning back just enough to smoke her pipe between laughter and wide, teasing smiles. She was impressed, Vivi could tell that much, and kept ribbing Bon Clay about leaving a 'perfectly good group of fashionable maniacs' to frolic with mermaids instead of coming back to 'another perfectly good group of fashionable maniacs'.

At some point, Marianne had broken out of her near-silent fascination with his story to murmur her apologies for not being able to save him in the first place even as she excitedly talked up drawing a sketch of his 'big victory in Impel Down over that stupid moron the Warden'.

Vivi couldn't say she wasn't just as enraptured. It was an absolutely crazy story, from the interesting and charming sounding newkama, the Revolutionary Army's own Iva, heroic sacrifices and the bonds of friendship. She found herself leaning forward, with wide eyes and a broad smile as she clapped upon his escape. 

After that, it was their turn to tell the story, specifically he grinned at Vivi.

"So, you're going to tell me the story of how you kidnapped Sir Crocodile and his merry band, aren't you?"

Vivi flushed as Marianne turned her stare to her. "You kidnapped us?"

"W-well," Vivi laughed as she put her hand on her chest. "you know that I'm a member of the Straw Hat Pirates, don't you Bon?" 

Bon laid a finger by the side of his nose conspiratorially. "Not exactly playing that too close to the vest, were you, Vivi?"

Vivi flushed a little, shaking her head with an embarrassed grin. 

"I'm proud of it. No need to, except to people who're gonna drag me back." She rubbed her neck before she continued. "I'd regretted not leaving with them for a long time now, you know? So when I heard about Marineford, about what happened to my captain, I knew I had to find them and join back up instead of sitting at home to be wedded and useless…"

She glanced at Crocodile with a flustered smile. "I needed a devil fruit to be stronger, so I wound up by chance walking into an information broker that was serving as a front for Crocodile's little Baroque Work's Reunion."

"Walked in like a deer in the headlights, poor thing." Zala purred as she took a drag off her pipe. 

"Oho! That ugly little place on Espree? What a dreary place for such a chance meeting." He leaned on his hand, listening as closely as she'd listened to his story. "I have to say, I'm surprised to hear that you even left the Straw Hat. You all seemed thick as thieves, so to speak."

Marianne spoke up. "Pal-ish as pirates, maybe."

Vivi snorted softly, before she broke into a little laugh. Composing herself, her expression sobered as she sighed. "We were, Bon. It's just complicated. Everything in Alabasta, nearly dying— my father. The people's expectations and the personal tragedies I had to wade through, and the fact that I was weak, honestly."

She grit her teeth. "I was too weak. I was already useless to them since I'd come on board. So I convinced myself my country needed me more than they did and I stayed out of obligation." 

Bon sucked in a long drag of his cigarette and shook his head. "Easy to see why you regretted it, then, honey. Followed your head instead of your heart."

"Must be something in the air in Alabasta," Crocodile grumbled, so quiet that no one besides Vivi might have heard him.

They were more alike in that regret than anyone knew, it seemed, she could think of a dozen regrets circling in his head that it could have been.

She nodded, looking up at Bon with a shaky smile. "Yeah. I should have followed my heart from the start, but…there was a lot of pressure. So I let them go and now I have to fix it."

Zala hummed quietly. "Which led you to us, didn't it?"

"By accident. I thought Crocodile was going to kill me for Miss Wednesday daring to show up to the revival of Baroque Works, but he saved me from some marines and heard me out enough for him to agree to help me find a devil fruit in the new world." She smiled wryly. "So I guess in a fashion I've kidnapped the whole of Neo Baroque Works." 

"As good a kidnapping as I've ever seen," Bon teased. He lit another cigarette off the butt of the first one. "Seems like the whole gang's here, except— Where's Mr.3?"

Crocodile rolled his eyes and topped up his drink from the bottle of whiskey he'd had their waitress bring. "Ran off with Buggy the Clown at Marineford. I think he might still think I'm gonna try to kill him again."

"Croccy, your temper!" Bon Clay shook his head. "Or maybe Mr. 3 just has a thing for boys in makeup after all."

Daz snorted and slapped the table. He'd been quiet, but it got quite the laugh out of him.

"Not just boys in makeup," Marianne murmured with a snicker that still sounded somehow serious, "but absolutely boys in makeup."

Vivi reached for the bottle with a little chuckle. 

"Geeze, well, maybe we'll run into him anyway. I don't think anyone expected to run into you here, Bon…" She trailed off for a moment. "A bunch of the under-agents aren't here, my partner sure isn't. But I assume, or at least hope, he's living his best life if Mr. 5 didn't really kill him at least."

"No, he's fine. Got out of crime." Marianne answered as she munched a cracker. 

"The red-head, right?" Bon cooed. "Good for him, he was adorable. I hope he's doing well for himself."

"So you're coming with us, right, Bon?" Crocodile said, pouring him another drink too.

"Croccy, babe, you couldn't keep me away with a stick! Especially since it sounds like you're going to see dear Luffy, right, Vivi? I made a very serious promise that I'd see him again."

Vivi's eyes widened. 

"Well yes, of course! I mean…once I have my devil fruit the plan's to find where the Straw Hats are and drop me off." She flashed him a broad grin. "Funny enough, I promised the same. We can both fulfill our promises at the same time!" 

Bon raised his drink. "Cheers! I'll let them know to cancel my shows. Oh this is going to be fun."

All around the table, Crocodile and the former Baroque Works agents raised their glasses too. In the center of the table, their glasses clinked together, Vivi's among them as she excitedly cheered.

"It really is one hell of a reunion," she was tipsy, happy— overjoyed even enough to say. "I'm so glad to be here with you guys." 

Daz smiled at her, and clinked his glass against hers a second time. "We're glad to have you here too."

She felt Crocodile's hand on her shoulder again. "Damn right. Things are looking up."

Vivi raised the glass to her lips, drinking it down to chase the flush from her face.

Things were looking up, unlike Sabaody, with its fear and trepidation— this, THIS, felt like the start to a great journey. 

-

That night they stayed in rooms in the same hotel that Bon Clay had apparently been staying in, and Vivi had had the choice to bunk up with someone or get her first night of solo sleep since they'd left Espree island.

She'd contemplated grabbing a solo night's sleep, if for no other reason than she imagined Zala and Marianne would bunk together or Zala would head off with Daz. However she was taken off guard when the tipsy 'poison spider' looped her arm over her shoulder and sashayed in that dancer's way of hers down the hall.

A short conversation later, and Vivi found herself agreeing to share a bunk with Zala for the night as they left Marianne contemplating if she should ask Daz or 'take the opportunity to catch some sleep without Zala's snoring'.

Zala was a shockingly affectionate drunk for someone Vivi suspected was high pretty much most of the time from how often she smoked that pipe of hers. Maybe it was the party mood, or the sheer relief of hitting fishman island and a missing friend, but she'd wrapped her arms around Vivi and tugged her down into the bed to nestle her face in the pale blue strands of her hair.

It reminded Vivi strangely of the Straw Hat crew— of Nami when she let her miserly facade fall enough to cuddle with her under the starlight or sleep together to the rocking of the sea. It was comforting, and Zala was comforting in her own way too.

Even a human pincushion was softer on the inside than that one terrible day made it seem. So Vivi had cuddled up with her, feeling the springy locks of her hair against her hand as she settled into bed. 

-

They had a late morning that morning, and there was lots of coffee being drunk at the table in the restaurant where they ate. Crocodile had come in with his arm around Bon Clay that morning and sat closely with him, drooping over his coffee, and puffing at his cigar.

By now, Vivi had seen that he really wasn't a morning person.

Still he had an announcement for the table. "Gonna stay a couple extra days and take on some crew. Bon says he knows a few guys. Might get a bigger ship once we complete the crossing."

Daz chuckled, certainly the most alert man at the table. "I wouldn't say no to a bigger ship, captain, so long as we have hands to crew it."

Vivi was still exhausted and hung over herself, Zala sipping her coffee right beside her as Vivi helped her stay upright with the presence of her shoulder. She downed more of her coffee to muster up the proper enthusiasm for the announcement

"That's really exciting! More crew members means a smoother trip, right? And a bigger ship should have more room to operate, and hold up against storms and stuff, yeah?"

"Yay," Zala murmured into her morning coffee.

Marianne gave Bon Clay a subtle thumbs up and a nod. 

"Better in storms, less likely to be seen as easy picking by some idiot looking for a haul," Crocodile grumbled. "And it wouldn't be a bad idea to have some crewmen who aren't devil fruit users, as long as they're worth the risk."

"You know me, Croccy, I won't bring on anyone I wouldn't trust with my life and yours," Bon cooed, lighting his second cigarette of the morning. "They'll all be properly afraid of your reputation, I promise."

Crocodile harumphed, but let the teasing pass.

"That's a good point," Vivi mused. "I mean, strong swimmers are going to be important just in case. We kind of only have me and Karoo and I'm planning on selling that particular meager talent to swim as soon as I can."

Marianne giggled quietly into her hand. "if the new crew don't fear you sir, you can bite them." 

"They'll get a personal interview with my hook," Crocodile drawled, turning said instrument so that it flashed in a beam of light. "But I know the kind of people you're in with Bon— I won't say I trust 'em, but I'm willing to run the odds on it."

"Ever the gambler, captain," he chuckled. "It shouldn't take too long."

"Where are we going to be looking for a new ship, sir?" Daz asked over his coffee.

"Mystoria," Crocodile responded. He nodded his head to Vivi as he said, "Just short of paradise we used to call it. A bit of a pirate trading hub. Not a lot of choices for where beyond that unless we want to push it until we hit Dressrosa and I do not."

"Dressrosa…" Vivi murmured quietly. "I've heard of Dressrosa. It's a bit too far out, isn't it?"

Zala tilted her coffee back. "I'd take my chances with Mystoria before I took 'em with Dressrosa, honestly. That's Donquixote territory, ain't it?"

Marianne bobbed her head. "If we get a new ship, can I paint it?" 

"Sure you can, Marianne," Crocodile grumbled. Vivi watched him pinch the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, Dressrosa's Donquixote territory. If we can't get any information on a devil fruit before we get there, that's where we're gonna have to go. I ain't looking forward to it."

"The Donquixotes basically control the devil fruit black market," Daz explained, leaning toward Vivi, and offering her more coffee from the carafe at the table.

Zala held out her cup for it with a tired smile. "Weren't you both Warlords, Croc? Can't you just radio the guy and ask for a favor?"

Vivi was getting the impression that things were a little too complicated to just 'call in a favor' if Crocodile was already trying this hard to avoid the guy's territory and he was already a devil fruit broker.

"I get the sense that won't be the best idea, right Crocodile?" Vivi mused. "Instead, let's really hope we can get a lead on something in Mystoria."

"If we're lucky we'll find one there," Marianne smiled thinly. "Before we have to start venturing into Emperor territory." 

"Warned you it wouldn't be easy to find a good one," Crocodile grumbled as he nodded to Vivi. "Zala, one major problem– one of several– is that Doff– Doflamingo is still a damned warlord. A government dog. And I'm once more a wanted criminal. So that's an issue right there."

"Ah, so he's one of those government dogs. Loyal to the end, is he?" Zala muses with a shake of her head. "Good to know. Well. I'll hold off on my desire to see Dressrosan fashion with my own eyes for a while yet then."

Vivi twisted her hair around her fingertip with a thoughtful hum. "You know, if we're lucky maybe Mystoria has one of his secondary brokers with access to his network? We could use his services without him ever knowing, right?" 

Crocodile grinned. "Smart girl. That's exactly what I've been hoping. That we can scoop his contacts and get the goods before he finds out we're looking. Plus, I have some other contacts in Mystoria I'm hoping to pick up for general business. Shake the dust off everything."

VIvi grinned under the praise, Zala lightly slapping her arm with a mutter of 'good job, Viv'.

"All to get the gang back up and running, right? Is there anything I can do to help with that? I mean…as an outsider of course." 

Crocodile's grin widened. He was already looking more awake after his coffee and cigar. "As an outsider? I'll think on it. And I won't hesitate to ask, doll."

Vivi raised her coffee before polishing it off. As an outsider. Not a member of Baroque Works anymore— not quite a 'client' either. It was a strange and amorphous place to be. But no matter what label you could slap on it, she was intent to pull her weight.

Things had gone bad between them before…now it was the time for them to make it up to one another.

"Good man, Captain Crocodile." 

-

Later that day Vivi found herself returning to the ship with Daz, who had a load of supplies to bring on board. Including a special treat for Karoo, who had so far been left 'to watch the ship', as had often been the case with the Straw Hats.

"Sardines," Daz grinned, showing her the tin. "Most of 'em are for us of course, but I figured Karoo would appreciate a couple."

Vivi grinned widely, leaning forward to look at the tin with a whistle. 

"Yeah, Karoo's gonna go crazy the moment you open those, Daz. There's only one thing he loves more than fresh water and it's fish!" She laughed, shaking her head. "You two have really hit it off, huh?" 

"Guess we have," he swaggered along pushing the cart full of supplies toward the ship. "Can't say the same about him and the captain, though."

Vivi shook her head as she helped carry another few bags. "Sadly Karoo holds a longer grudge than I do. He still remembers that whole— whole mess really vividly. And Crocodile dropping me off the palace and everything." 

"Well, you know how it is," Daz said, shaking his head. "Sometimes it's easier to be mad on behalf of someone you care about than it is to be mad on your own behalf, right?"

It sounded perhaps like he was speaking from experience.

"That makes sense, because you care about them and you can't work through the problem in your own head with all the stuff you know about it you can hold onto the anger easier. Right?" Vivi tilted her head. "Have you been mad at someone like that before?" 

He waved his free hand. "Oh all the time. I'm the type who gets mad for other people easy. Part of why I kill people for a living, eh?"

He flashed his bright grin at her. It was such a contrast to think about, the quiet, easy going man was also a famous, deadly assassin.

"Do– do you look into them to find things to be mad about first? Or only accept targets of like, guys who've gone on record saying mean things about Crocodile or someone else you care about?" 

Daz shook his head. "That would make me very picky. Especially before I started working for Crocodile. No, but you're half right. I don't take a contract if I can't see my employer's side of the argument."

"Huh," Vivi adjusted the bag on her shoulder, smiling over at him. "That's honestly really admirable, Daz. Honorable even…"

He waved her off, shaking his head again and looking embarrassed. "I'll admit I'm not unhappy to hear you say that. I turned down Crocodile's offer to join his crew the first time because, well, I didn't want people to see me as a villain."

Vivi blinked at that, curiosity bubbling inside her as she walked alongside him. By and large, everyone in the world saw pirates as villains of one sort or another, even those deemed 'heroes' like Crocodile once was.

But Daz didn't want to be seen that way. "Really?" 

Again he looked embarrassed. "Yeah, silly, I know, especially wanting to be an assassin. But I figured I'd only take jobs killing bad people, right? I was pretty naive back then, but, well. I was a kid."

"I mean, I can kind of see the logic, especially if you were young. If you only took jobs killing bad people then you'd be kind of like a hero in a way yeah?" She winked at him. "I mean…things are a bit more complex but I think you're pretty heroic in your way, Daz. Even Karoo probably thinks so, but that might just be because you feed him." 

"Probably just because I feed him. But I'm glad he likes me anyway." He left her for a moment with the cart while he climbed the side of the ship and lay down the gangplank. He dropped from the rim of the ship down to the ground beside her and shook his head. "I still don't want to be a villain— but I've learned that the world's a lot less black and white than I thought it was when I was a kid."

Vivi nodded up at him with a tentative smile. 

"Yeah, I can relate to that. Things aren't as easy as we thought when we were kids. Heck…they're not as black and white as I thought they might be during that whole mess back in Alabasta. But…well." She offered him the bag. "I think you've done a pretty great job of not becoming a villain. And I'm doing a pretty great job of not thinking like my father." 

He took the bag from her and slung it over his shoulder, grabbing the cart and pushing it up the gangplank as she followed. "Not becoming your father? Color me curious."

Vivi rubbed her neck as she hopped up the gangplank after him. 

"I love my dad," she started with a smile, "but he's got a very specific way of thinking. He knows what's good and just, and he knows what a king and a princess should do. And he knows the traditions, and he knows how to rule in a very particular way. But Crocodile wasn't exactly wrong when he said he wasn't bright— though I'll be kinder and say he's not very good at thinking outside that particular box."

She shrugged her shoulders. "He sees the world in black and white. He let Baroque Works steamroller over him because he thought he could stand up to them with purely peaceful means, while I ran off to at least figure out who you were. To him, my fighting in the streets was just a phase to grow out of, my love of adventure was a phase. Obviously I was in love with Koza, which was the furthest that worldview would bend for him to try and allow that by law…even though he wasn't even right about the assumption! I didn't love Koza, I liked him as my co-leader in our GANG. But Dad couldn't see that." 

Daz paused at the top of the gangplank, offering her his hand up over the last step. "He has a vision of how the world should be, and won't see how it actually is. Am I right?"

Vivi had felt the frustration bubbling inside her since she started her rant, burning ever hotter with every misunderstanding and misconception that came back to her already active memory. That conversation with Crocodile, the news that he'd told everyone she'd been sent off to be pure and untouched by war to her cousin's, and his assumption of her 'deep love' for Koza had rekindled the frustrations that had simmered down with distance and time.

She sucked in a sharp breath as she nodded, taking his hand with a gritting of her teeth. "...yeah honestly you're completely right. That's exactly it." 

He put a large, warm hand on her shoulder and gave her a soft smile. "If you see it that way, it's no wonder you and Crocodile have been getting along so well. Despite Karoo's misgivings."

Vivi felt her face flushing again as she nodded up at him. "...despite Karoo's misgivings, yeah. I suppose we have been getting along better than I expected, huh?" 

Daz chuckled. "He had his arm around you all last night."

That memory, even clouded by drink, leapt right to the forefront as Vivi tripped over the lip of the ship and stumbled onto the deck with a squeak.

"S-so he did. I'm still rather surprised about that." 

Daz caught her as she tripped head long into his lean, solid body.

"Easy there. Didn't mean to spook ya," he chuckled. "I'm not all that surprised by it, though. More surprised you allowed it as long as you did."

Vivi huffed against him, working to get her feet oriented back under her as the warmth bloomed hotter inside her. "W-what do you mean by that, Daz?" 

Daz shrugged. Once Vivi was on her feet, he grabbed some boxes off the cart, starting to unload them on the deck. 

"The captain, for all he doesn't let people in close, is pretty free with physical affection. If he likes you, he'll get in personal. Tends to put off people who are more particular about their personal space."

Vivi brushed her pale blue hair over her ear, before hurrying to help him unload the boxes. It was utterly mundane, even in a wonderland as strange as Fishman Island. Surrounded by fish high above, mermaids and coral, they unloaded boxes.

"I've noticed…so that means he likes me now, huh?" She asked cautiously. 

"Feels comfortable around you," Daz nodded, looking at her from where he leaned on one of the boxes. "Kind of like a cat in that way."

"He's catlike…" Vivi thought about that for a long moment before she whispered. "Huuuh…he kinda is, isn't he?" 

So he'd gotten comfortable around her, the deeply wounded and slow to trust Crocodile had warmed up to her that fast, feeling comfortable around her enough to sling his arm all over her?

She felt another rush of flushed heat when she remembered the times he called her 'doll' or 'Viv'.

"Well , I'm…I'm a bit comfortable with him, I suppose." 

"I noticed," Daz said with a grin. "C'mon, let's go find where Karoo's hiding and give him his fish, eh?"

The look he gave her was mischievous, as if he was holding back some sly, additional comment.

Vivi stuck her tongue out at him. "We'd best, or he's going to come trotting up here to cause trouble! He's smart, he probably already knows you've got a treat waiting!" 

"Probably," Daz chuckled. He waved her along. "C'mon then."

Vivi hurried along after him. Somehow the thing that stuck in her mind was that Crocodile felt comfortable around her, and she around him.

It wasn't like the last 5 years hadn't happened. It wasn't like Baroque Works and the pain Crocodile caused simply vanished, but time moved on. She found herself falling into the same comfortable banter and proximity her old crush so often longed for, smiling and laughing all too easily in his presence…

Daz had noticed it. Zala had, and Marianne too. Everyone could see it.

But that's all it was. Comfort. Friendliness. Understanding and thanks for the help.

As she headed down into the ship with Daz she resolved firmly to push her childish crush into the depths of her mind. This wasn't love, it wasn't even a crush.

She was just happy to be close to them again. For a new chance.

It had to be. 

[noesheen-buksh]

Week 1 - Artist Research

Robert Mapplethorpe (1/3)

In this photograph we can see that Robert Mapplethorpe's hand reaching out from the dark, holding onto a staff with a skull. Mapplethorpe’s face is also seen emerging out of the complete darkness of the image. The lighting used within this portrait is what I would imagine to be front studio lighting, as the light is somewhat evenly shown on the subject. With no dramatic shadows. The light would be placed right in front of him, but slightly more towards the right-hand side. This would explain why the left-hand side of Mapplethorpe’s face has a slight shadow casted on it. The most interesting part of this portrait to me is the depth of field. The image has a shallow depth of field; however, it is different to what I usually see. Instead of Mapplethorpe’s face being in focus, his hand and staff are in focus instead. With his face being slightly blurred. The composition of this portrait as well as the lighting and depth of field create a mysterious mood. You, as the audience are intrigued and drawn in as if hypnotized, you look towards Robert Mapplethorpe’s face and realise it’s not in focus. Then you look around the picture to see the hand holding onto the staff fully in focus, the sharpest object within the image. The background being completely black also plays into the mysterious mood as there is nothing else to look at.

Cindy Sherman (2/3)

Cindy Sherman’s self-portrait is unlike other self-portraits I have seen before, normally I would see the photographers dress themselves up as different extensions of themselves. However, Sherman herself takes portraits of her playing as different characters, none of them are her at all. The first thing that caught my eye in this portrait is the bright pink hair against the orange background. You would think that the pink would somewhat blend in with the warmed-toned backdrop. However, there is a soft ring of glow surrounding the afro making it stand out. I would imagine this was done by a set of lights placed behind Cindy Sherman angled to highlight just her wig and not her figure. Another thing that drew my attention would be the juxtaposition of the costume and background. Her costume, a green-blue colour, contrasted perfectly with the red-orange background. Even her face is painted in similar hues to the background. The overall subject matter is interesting too; Cindy Sherman dressed as a clown, with flamboyant hair, painted expression and baggy cool-toned clothes. The lighting for this portrait seems to be coming from the left-hand side, it also seems to be a taller light source as it casts a shadow down on the right side of her. The overall mood of this photograph seems like a clown who is tired of constantly having to be “sickly happy”. Who seems to be trapped in this sort of identity with no break soon.

Francesca Woodman (3/3)

Spinning in what appears to be an empty parking lot, Francesca Woodman takes a unique approach to self-portrait photography. She portrays herself as a blurred, distorted figure, moving through space. Her photography captures her movements within the portrait rather than a still like others. She appears as a ghostly white figure, which creates a sense of mystery within her imagery. What drew my attention to this self-portrait of Francesca Woodman, is the use of lighting. Unlike the other two self-portraits I had spoken about, the lighting within this photo does not look like studio light. Woodman looks as if she used the lighting that was at her disposal, that is the light within the parking lot. The overhead light shines down on her creating the top half of her to appear pearly white. However, due to the strong overhead light, it cast long shadows. From below Woodman’s dress, her legs are black blending in with the surrounding shadows. The lighting in this photo also shows a lot of interesting textures, such as the concert walls and ground, making it seem almost more organic. Because of the lighting in this image, Francesca Woodman appears as an enigma. Captivating the audience’s attention, making them look longer.

[linuxgamenews]

WrestleQuest is your way to glory beyond the ring

WrestleQuest pro wrestling and RPG game launches on both Linux and Windows PC. Thanks to the dedication and hard work of Mega Cat Studios. Available on both Steam and Humble Store with Positive reviews. Mega Cat Studios and Skybound Entertainment have teamed up to release a game that is a unique blend of pro wrestling and RPG, WrestleQuest, on Linux. At its core, WrestleQuest offers a chance to step into the shoes of an up and coming wrestler. Just as every sports person dreams of reaching the height of their sport, players embark on a journey alongside the legends of wrestling. But it's not just about sheer power or flashy moves. Since it's a test of dedication, perseverance, and the unyielding spirit to stand tall. Even when faced with adversity. WrestleQuest draws inspiration from towering figures of the wrestling world, such as “Macho Man” Randy Savage. These figures aren't just references; the settings and tests you face are designed to reflect the illustrious careers of these wrestling giants. Think of it as diving into the most exciting chapters of a history book. But instead of just reading, you're living out those moments. The combat mechanics of WrestleQuest fuse familiar role-playing elements with the dynamism of wrestling. It's not just about choosing an attack but learning the rhythm and style that will give you an edge in the ring. You can personalize your wrestler, not just in terms of looks, but right down to the way they taunt opponents. The same with the way they make a grand entrance.

WrestleQuest - Launch Trailer

Beyond the ring, the world brims with imagination. While the term 'monsters' might remind you of a fantasy RPG, here they are enemies with flamboyant costumes and larger than life personas. Allies, too, come in the form of other wrestling personalities. Some based on real-life legends like André the Giant and Jake the Snake Roberts. WrestleQuest is a vibrant blend of the real and surreal. While offering a fresh look on the wrestling domain. To top it off, WrestleQuest is a salute to the wrestling greats. As you navigate through challenges and milestones, you'll find nods to iconic figures such as Booker T, Diamond Dallas Page, and Jeff Jarrett, to name a few. It's not just about the thrill of the fight; it's also a journey through the hall of fame. While paying respect to those who have laid the groundwork for the sport.

Player Feedback:

Many players were excited about the blend of wrestling and RPG elements in WrestleQuest. However, they found the frequent Quick Time Events (QTEs) in battles to be tedious. Although the music and art were praised, some areas lacked music and the character movement was deemed slow. The inclusion of real-life podcasters was debatable. Players also reported bugs, and some feel that WrestleQuest would benefit from early access feedback. However, wrestling fans like the nostalgia, character cameos, and the game's overall concept. Overall, it's a mix with good aesthetics but some gameplay frustrations. WrestleQuest pro wrestling and RPG is more than just a pastime. It's a bridge connecting the fantasy of role-playing with the adrenaline of wrestling. All while paying tribute to the legends that have shaped the wrestling universe. So, if you're keen to step beyond the ropes and test your mettle, this might just be your next big challenge. Launching on Steam and Humble Store. Priced at $29.99 USD / £21.99 / 29,99€. Along with support for Linux and Windows PC.

[cuttoncandyhair]

Imma just join this conversation!

Saliphie: I see her in mostly simple cuts. Nothing to frilly or fussy. She doesn't strike me as overly fashionable and probably owns all sorts of clothing items that suit her sometimes better, sometimes worse. But she doesn't worry about it too much. Her confidence comes from within and that makes her look charming even when her clothes don't flatter her the most. I kinda feel her interest in clothes is mostly directed towards clothes she won't wear, such as alt fashion styles or fancy gowns and such: Clothes she doesn't get the chance to wear, or that would feel like a costume. Color wise, I would say, she stays close to her present color scheme: Mostly white and light blue, more rarely medium intensity jewel colors or even some black.

Leo: For work, I see him in buisiness casual. White shirts, not completely buttoned up, dark pants, and for occasions maybe a vest and a jacket. His casual clothing is probably really unspectacular since he's canonically not into fancy stuff. I suppose he dresses for function and maybe a little bit for comfort. He's lucky, because plain, boring fits just naturally look good on him. (The perks of being handsome.) The colors would also be the similar to what he wears now: Lots of medium to dark, cool jewel tones.

Anubis: Just like usual, he dresses way too fancy. Multiple fashionable suits, three pieces or more, made of only the most expensive materials. He only wears brands. He owns multiple fancy watches, and shoes, and ear rings, albeit all of them are rather simplistic in design. His casual wardrobe also consists of only brand items that are kept relatively simplistic. As for the colors, everything with high contrast: White plus some flamboyant black, gold, red, blue, green. Anubis can pull almost everything off as long as it's saturated. No silver. Never silver. Don't insult him.

Amit: She has the epitome of an hourglass figure, so bodycon looks really good on her. But she is very uncomfortable showing off her body too much, so she sticks to relatively loose and drapey clothes that she pulls in by the waist, as to not drown her figure completely. She likes to wear all things girly and frilly and her favorite color to rock is pink.

Jor: The comfiest style you can find. Comfy pants, comfy shirts, sweaters, and very long cardigans. He just likes the softness of clothes against his snake skin. His style looks really relaxed and welcoming, and the way he dresses is just calming to people. He dons mostly green and earth tones. The difference between his casual style and the uniform he wears to work feels crazy to people. Jor is very versatile.

Lant: Definitely a grunge kid. Everything he wears looks old and torn. The reason is mostly that he couldn't aford better, but then he also started leaning into the style. As an adult he still dresses a little rough around the edges, just a lot neater. He just doesn't want to look poor anymore. He hates wearing his work uniform but he likes that it commands respect. His colors are mostly washed out shades. He doesn't own a single suit.

Cy and Clops: Just as in the original work they only wear ties, bows or hats.

Tetra: Girlie is not into skirts. She doesn't own skirts. She owns two dresses, a nice sun dress and a fancy one for parties. Other than that she wears mostly pants. Every piece of clothing she owns fits her perfectly, due to which she looks expensive even in cheap clothing. She owns more accessories than actual clothes. She doesn't over-accessorize, but she makes sure to elevate her look, using only a few, but placing them well. She looks good in warm colors. She hates herself in pastels.

What do you think the cast would wear in a modern setti.

To be honest, I'm not the most fashionable person, so I don't much about brands or what looks good on some folks. But here are some ideas I do have about fashion choices they'd make, especially in a modern setting:

Sariphi: Probably something comfortable. Would wear pants or skirts depending on what she's got planned for the day. Would have a pocket large enough or purse to hold a book. I mainly see her in pastels/light colored clothes.

Leo: I mainly see him in suits or in nice business casual attire. In beast form, he usually can't wear ties since he's so big so he'll wear a scarf and use it like an ascot. (I got this from Me and My Beast Boss) He can wear a tie in human form though. Mainly in darker colors, earth kind of colors.

Anubis: Similar to Leonhart, yet he'd wear more white and light colors to give a contrast to his black fur. Would wear simple studs for earrings.

Amit: Almost always in a skirt, usually in a longer one. Definitely would wear feminine, classy attire. Definitely would like frilly, lacy outfits. May collect aprons.

Jormungand: More casual than his friends, but does have a suit or two for the occasion. Always has ties pressed and neatly worn. Has a hat collection since it's hard to image to imagine him without one.

Lanteveldt: Definitely more a t-shirt/tank top guy with jeans, particularly ripped ones. If you put a tie on him, it'll be undone when you blink, even he doesn't know how. He just shrugs.

Cy and Clops: ... If it were up to me, Cy and Clops would at least have something like a vest to wear and and hats too. Since, well, they are mainly naked minus the occasional bow tie.

That's what I've got. If anyone has any ideas, feel free to expand on it.

[lancermylove]

Chapter 6 (SFW)

➣ Pairing: Demon brothers, Royals, Solomon with fem!Reader. ➣ Warning: None ➣ Word Count: 2,243 ➣ Chapters [SFW]: [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12] ➣ Chapters [N.SFW]: [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12]

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You chuckled at the sparkles in Diavolo's eyes as he described the events of their outing yesterday. His vibrant and enchanting energy was quite contagious. However, what captivated you most was the prince's ability to act as an ordinary individual without carrying the weight of his royal duties. Even Asmo appeared to notice this as he giggled while relishing a piece of fruit from his breakfast bowl.

"Then, we witnessed children dressed in elf costumes, and they were creating, I believe Solomon referred to it as, a snowman. But then he stated we had much to see, so I was unable to witness the final form of the man of snow," the prince merrily spoke without taking a breath, "which upset me greatly. However, Solomon acquired an image from the web, but it could not match the splendor of witnessing one in actuality."

"Young master, do remember to breathe and finish your breakfast," Barbatos calmly said from the opposite side of the kitchen. His words drew laughter from you and Asmo, and while Diavolo finished the remainder of the food on his porcelain plate, the Avatar of Gluttony took the spotlight.

"There were so many ice sculptures shaped, and they look crunchy and delicious," Beel grinned, but his lips quickly tugged into a flat line. "But everyone stopped me from taking a bite. Solomon said the artists worked hard to make them."

"The ice sculptures were beautiful. If only they had one of me," Asmo giggled. "Diavolo, what if we had an ice sculpture festival in Devildom?"

"An excellent suggestion, Asmodeus. Having a winter wonderland of our own sounds delightful," the prince nodded. "Furthermore, I quite enjoyed witnessing Santa's workshop and would like to have one in Devildom. I could don Santa's attire while the rest of you could be my elves."

At his words, you glanced at the butler, who was occupied with chopping ingredients for dinner. Your vivid imagination conjured the image of Barbatos with elf-like pointed ears, adorned in a vibrant green attire and carrying a satchel filled to the brim with treats. The thought of a dignified demon in an adorable, flamboyant outfit made you giggle. As if sensing your gaze, he briefly glanced at you with an eyebrow raised, but you quickly looked away.

"We could also install an ice skating ring. Due to our time constraint, my wish to ice skate remains unfulfilled," Diavolo sighed, but Barbatos seemed a bit alerted by the grand schemes the prince suggested.

"My lord, I apologize for dampening the mood, but I fear the council will not sanction your suggestions. They will likely view them as superfluous expenditures and may cause trouble for you," the butler said in an effort to dissuade the prince from traversing down that path.

Hearing his words disheartened Diavolo, yet he was aware the Barbatos's concerns held merit. The council already voiced their distrust in the prince and expressed their desire for the king to rise from his deep slumber on multiple occasions. He appreciated the butler's concern and wisdom but was still upset at the possibility that his ideas might not come to fruition.

"Aw, don't be upset, Diavolo," Asmo said with a small smile and gently patted the prince's arm. "Those ancient grouches don't know the definition of fun."

You sympathized with Diavolo but didn't know how to comfort him. How could the Crown Prince of the Devildom have less decisional authority than the council members? He was a kind and benevolent prince who always thought of the well-being of the residents in Devildom, yet the council refused to acknowledge his endeavors. Moreover, it felt as though they were waiting for him to take one misstep so they could question his leadership abilities. 'Talk about evil.'

"Oh, (y/n), I forgot to tell you about our fans," Asmo chimed in an attempt to lighten the thick atmosphere. "We had a crowd gathered around us! They were complimenting and taking photos of us. Some even asked for our numbers, but the situation got so bad that the security guards had to intervene."

Beel laughed and nodded, "They offered to take me out to eat."

Once again, your imagination ran wild. The thought of Beelzebub's voracious appetite taking control of him as he devoured the entirety of the restaurant made you shudder. But imagining the expressions of the onlookers made you quietly chuckle. 'That would be one expensive date.'

"(Y/n)," the sixth brother softly said, bringing you back to reality, "you and Belphie did a great job decorating the tree."

"Thank you, but Belphie did most of the work," you chuckled.

"Don't be so modest, sweetie!" Asmo sweetly said as he handed you a small, festive gift bag with a scarf. "As a thank you for your hard work, we have a little something for you."

The silky softness of the cashmere scarf patterned with wintery and festive motifs drew a smile to your face. "Thank you, Asmo. It's perfect for the season! By the way, have any of you seen Mammon?"

"Come back! I ain't goin' to hurt ya."

You heard Mammon's voice in the distance and quietly headed in his direction, but upon arriving, you tilted your head and blinked rapidly. The Avatar of Greed cautiously approached a reindeer with a red spherical object in his hand, his expression hopeful despite the creature's skepticism. For a few moments, you watched them, baffled yet fascinated until Mammon leaped forward and tried to press the sphere on the reindeer's nose. The deer immediately bolted in the opposite direction, kicking up a plume of fresh snow as it fled, and left a disappointed Mammon lying on the ground, face flat in the snow.

"Mammon, what are you doing?" You inquired, trying to hold back your laughter. Rolling over on his back, the second brother sighed exasperatedly in defeat.

"Satan was talkin' 'bout Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, sayin' all human like him. And I wanted to see ya smile, so I tried to put this red nose on that reindeer," he sighed loudly. "But the deer ain't havin' it."

His reasoning surprised you, but a sensation of warmth spread throughout your entire body. However, you wondered why Mammon thought you needed to be cheered up. With a quiet giggle, you spoke your mind, "But I am not sad, Mammon."

"Look, I ain't the smartest demon, but even I can tell somethin' is goin' on with you, Lucifer, Barbatos, and Diavolo," he declared as he stood up and dusted the snow off his clothes. First, Lucifer, then Solomon, and now, Mammon? Had everyone figured out something was going on behind the scenes? Noticing your discomfort, he continued, "Hey, I ain't goin' to ask ya to tell me if you don't wanna. But I am here for ya, y'know. If you wanna talk or somethin'."

"Mammon, I wish I could say 'you are a true angel.' But thanks. I will keep that in mind," you tenderly smiled but quickly changed the topic. "Speaking of angels. Want me to teach you how to make a snow angel?"

"A snow...angel?" Mammon repeated with a hint of confusion. "What's that?"

In a wordless display of your actions, you lay down on the ground and fully stretched your limbs as the Avatar of Greed curiously observed your moves. As you began to sweep your arms and legs through the powdery snow, a shape emerged, catching Mammon by surprise. You cautiously rose from the ground and created a slightly uneven halo atop its head. "Voila. A snow angel! Your turn."

Mammon didn't respond but studied the imprint he had left in the snow after attempting to attach the red nose to the reindeer. In a moment of playful creativity, he crouched down with a mischievous smile and dipped his index finger into the snow. With a few strokes, he added horns and a tail to the impression. "Voila. A snow devil. Take that snow angel!"

Your laughter echoed through the opening in the center of the forest, "Speaking of the devil. What were you hiding behind your back a few days ago? You know, the small blue and black packets."

"Huh? I dunno what you're talkin' 'bout," Mammon mumbled and averted his gaze momentarily.

"Suuuure, you don't, Mammon," you chuckled. "Wait, aren't you supposed to be decorating the exterior of the cabin?"

"Yeah, and Solomon's supposed to be helpin', but he ran off. I ain't doin' everythin' by myself," he slightly frowned and threw his hands up in the air.

You hopped off the step-up and took a moment to admire your handiwork. A faux pine wreath adorned with a crimson ribbon hung outside the main door, its vibrant color standing out against the albescent backdrop. The tails of the ribbon occasionally fluttered in the light, chilly breeze. Nestled in the door frame was a pine garland with soft white LED lights gently illuminating the pine needles. Pine cones and berries served as a festive accent amongst the branches.

A sudden, ear-piercing thud resounded across the winter landscape, quickly followed by a grunt. Your head quickly pivoted in the direction of the noise, and you laid your eyes upon something quite unexpected: the legs of the Avatar of Greed poking out of a mound of fluffy snow. As you hurried over to investigate, Mammon's voice emanated from beneath the powder-laden mass, "Why do I gotta do all the hard stuff?"

You let out a light, giggling laugh as you took in the amusing sight of Mammon stuck in the snowy pile with festive string lights on top of him. Hearing you laugh, he huffed and averted his gaze in protest, "That ain't funny. I could've been seriously hurt fallin' from the roof like that, y'know."

"Sorry. Sorry," you giggled. "Let me help you out of there."

You quickly helped the Avatar of Greed extricate himself from the icy clutches of the snowy abyss, but to no avail did he appear to appreciate your efforts. Once he returned to his feet, he loudly dusted the snow off his clothes with a frown on his slightly dry lips. To brighten his mood, you carefully formed a snowball and lightly delivered it to his shoulder, its powdery substance flying through the air and landing with a small poof on his body.

Mammon's somber expression softened momentarily as he glanced at the place where you threw the snowball. Seizing the opportunity, you engaged him further and tossed another snowball in hopes of seeing the Avatar of Greed smile or at least have a reaction. But to your dismay, he refused to acknowledge your actions, his body language portraying a sullen, unamused air about him.

Exasperated with your futile attempts to cheer Mammon up, you sighed and turned away, but as soon as your back faced him, you heard a soft whoosh, followed by a poof on your shoulder. In a few minutes, laughter permeated the air as the two of you tossed countless snowballs at each other. The snowball fight soon turned into a chase through the woods.

Your playful antics led you and Mammon atop a hidden corner in the forest as curtains of snow began to cascade from the heavens. The chase came to a halt when you noticed a quaint cave nestled in a stone wall. The two of you glanced at one another, contemplating whether you should explore the unknown lair.

"What if the cave has a bear or something dangerous?" You nervously asked, stepping closer to him.

"Never fear 'cause Mammon the Great is here," he responded in a slightly deeper voice but quickly added in a softer tone, "What are ya worried about? I ain't gonna let anythin' happen to ya."

Placing your trust in him, the two of you ventured into the darkened cavernous depth, your curious gazes set on discovering its mysteries and treasures. Halfway through, your wandering gazes halted as you stumbled upon an otherworldly sight. One wall of the dreary cave housed a plethora of glowworms; each radiated a distinct blue light, and together, they created an iridescent symphony resembling the starry night sky. Before the wall lay a pitch-black pool that mirrored the bioluminescence, further adding to the enchantment.

As the two of you observed the artful display of nature, a moment of silence ensued. Eventually, Mammon tore his eyes from the scene and directed his gaze at you. The azure glow softly highlighted your features and added a touch of vibrancy to your eyes, blessing you with a heavenly appearance. The demon's heart fluttered as his breath slowly escaped him.

Platonic:

"(Y/n). You...look beautiful," he whispered under his breath, his cheeks reddening.

"Why are you always so sweet to me, Mammon? Not that I am complaining," you giggled and met his gaze. "What do say we stay here for a while?"

Mammon couldn't have been happier at that moment. Not only did he get to spend time with you in a beautiful, secretive place, but he also got to escape decorating the rest of the cabin's exterior.

Romantic:

"(Y/n). You...look beautiful," he whispered as heat spread across his cheeks. In the soothing glow, your eyes stared at each other longingly, secretly conveying the feelings buried in your hearts.

With a spark of heat and longing, your faces inched closer and closer until they met in a sweet kiss. The soft embrace of your lips sent your thoughts and emotions into overdrive, stirring your boundless desires for each other.

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➣  Please visit my website for the full masterlist!