#that's the actual fic title

[auburnlaughter]

Hi! Please work on The White Tayra Stellaka Aiylla for WIP Wednesday.

This is one I definitely need kicking to work on lately so thank you!

WIP Wednesday The White Tayra (original story)

"Yes, ma'am. Anything I can do here?"

"For starters, you can stop calling me ma'am," Olivia said, laughing as Knapp flushed slightly. "This is a pretty informal engine room and most everyone else calls me Olivia. You can stick with Castillo Rodriguez if first name feels too weird and I'll also answer to CR or even "engine boss lady" which, yes, that has happened."

More than once in fact, but then that was Gabe for you.

[lexosaurus]

If you're only commenting on a fic to ask for an update or worse, to be passive-aggressive about wanting an update, then please do both yourself and the writer a favor and don't comment at all.

Saying things like "Can't wait for the next update!" as part of a comment about how you enjoyed the chapter is one thing, but just going into the comments and being like "Where's the update?" or "You haven't finished writing the next chapter yet?" or something similar is not only rude, but also I ASSURE you it only serves to make the writer anxious about writing at all.

Fic writers are not content creators. We're not robots. We're real people with careers, families, and other irl responsibilities. Writing is something I do in my thirty minutes before I go to bed to wind down from the day. Whatever I want to write that evening is what ends up getting written.

So by making me anxious and putting pressure on me to update a fic, especially in that passive-aggressive way that so many people do, all you've ensured is that when I open up my folder that evening to see what I feel like writing, my eyes will completely skip over that WIP that I got the rude comment on that day because I Feel Bad about it and now I don't want to even look at it.

So please, just follow the golden rule of "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."

[rafeandonlyrafe]

almost sweet music

words: 900

warnings: 18+ only, smut, thigh job, clit rubbing, brief tit play, childhood friends to lovers, kinda somnophilia?

your eyes are open, but they might as well be closed as you look at nothing but pure darkness. you shift ever so slightly, pressing further into rafes hold.

it's not the first time you've shared a bed. he's been your friend for years, and you used to have sleepovers every weekend before your bodies developed and it became awkward.

you would still occasionally fall asleep in rafes bed, usually when the movie he picked to watch was too boring, or when you were waiting around for him and ended up taking a nap enveloped in his scent.

tonight is different. even when you share a bed, rafe never cuddles so close to you like this. yeah, you'll wake up with your head on his chest or a leg slung over his, but rafe is pressed right against your back.

his chest is rising and falling in a steady rhythm, but you can't tell for certain if he's asleep or just relaxed having you against him.

you close your eyes, relaxing back into his hold. his soft breath fans over your shoulder, barely covered by your tank top strap.

you're about to fall asleep when you feel something poking you. your eyes open again, wider this time as rafes hip press forward.

his obvious erection grinds against your ass, slow movements fooling you into believing rafe must be asleep still, body acting on its own, much like yours does when you seek him out in your sleep.

rafe let's out a soft moan, then a mumble of your name, and now you're certain he must be awake since you've never heard him sleep talk before.

his hips begin to move faster, like he's testing out how far he can take it before you wake up. how much movement will it take for you to stir, testing how much he can get away with.

you stiffen for a brief moment before relaxing again. you squeeze your eyes shut as you try to keep your breathing regular. you don't want rafe to stop. 

to others, it's been a clear (and long) game you've been playing, both pining after each other while claiming to just be best friends. this is the first time rafe has shown any clear evidence to you of his sexual attraction. what you don't see is his longing looks whenever your back is turned, or the way he's quick to go after any guy who looks at you for a little too long.

you let out a silent curse in your head. of course he's only doing this because he thinks your asleep as he moves faster against you, barriers of fabric in the way but not stopping his light moans, almost sweet music against your ears.

you wonder how long he's been pushing up against you before it woke you up. you consider your options. sit here silently, let him cum in his pants, or take action, show you're awake, and change your life forever.

you're done with the game as you reach down, startling rafe as he lets out a curse, but you simply pull your shorts down along with your underwear, revealing your bare ass as you spread your thighs, pussy on show and already starting to get wet.

you wait for rafe to continue. when it's clear he won't, you reach behind your back to pull his cock out of his pajama pants.

rafe follows your motions, taking your lead and going as far as you will allow as you rub his cock through your folds before closing your thighs around him.

“keep going.” you say. 

the words is all the encouragement rafe needs as he begins to thrust, the slick between your thighs growing as he pushes against you.

a hand that was holding you close to him travels to your pussy, rubbing you with a single finger, the pad rough against your sensitive clit.

the sound of slapping skin is a telltale sign of what is happening in the dark, as rafes hips meet your ass with every thrust.

you long for him to press into your cunt, but you know you need to have an actual discussion about what this is before allowing him to fuck you properly. the thighs will have to do.

rafe rubs faster, with a clear purpose as his cock swells. you can tell he's not far off, and the pure excitement from finally being with rafe also has your high growing.

you press further into his chest as your thighs squeeze together as tight as you can force them, letting out a moan when rafe spills, cum spurting through the gap onto the bed sheet.

he leaves his cock to soften between your legs as his finger keeps working on you, free hand coming to grab your chest over your shirt, hand possessively gripping your tits until your back arches, a strangled moan leaving your lips as you cum.

rafes hands disappear from off of you. you turn to face him, but can't see his expression.

“im-im sorry.” his words are enough for you to pinpoint where his mouth is as you lean in, pressing your lips together in a heated kiss.

“we can talk about it in the morning.” you say, tucking yourself back into his side. “we will cuddle and sleep and be in a much clearer headspace.”

rafe hesitates for a second before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, a soft smile on his face as your breathing returns to normal, not allowing himself to fall asleep until he hears your gentle snores.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @akirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1 @edszn @theoraekenslover

[gyuwoncheol]

Down Bad

Pair: Mingyu x f!reader

Genre: fluff, inspired by soft Mingyu during that GyuHan live

Summary: Clingy, lovesick Mingyu just wants your undivided attention

Warnings: tipsy! Gyu, mentions of alcohol, use of pet names, so much fluff, barely proofread

WC: 1.7k

Author's Note: look at me actually publishing something. This is once again very self-indulgent because Gyu was just so so adorable in that live and it had me in shambles. Shoutout to my sweet Cherry @shuadotcom for listening to me fawn over Mingyu when this live happened and building ideas of the scenes with me! I love you darling!

Author’s Note 2.0: LISTEN, SHORT HAIR MINGYU IS HANDSOME OKAY. I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY SOME DON’T LIKE IT ON HIM??? LIKE BRO GET YOUR EYES CHECKED. But seriously, it does kill me when I watch Gyu kinda second guess his new hairstyle. Like I know he just laughs it off most times, but I hope the self doubt doesn’t eat him up. I will die defending his short hair. idc.

“Is it bad?” You grimace as soon as Seungcheol releases you from his hug and leads you through the hall.

Cheol laughs, “well…” he stops walking to look at you, “he’s not drunk… yet. But he did get tipsy quite fast.”

“That’s cause he’s also tired,” you reasoned, “but thanks for calling me, I don’t think I’d want him to drive home by himself and—“

“Oh no no,” the leader interrupts, resuming his steps towards the dining area where you could already faintly hear your boyfriend whining, “he asked us to call you. Besides, you know that if he did get drunk, I’d force him to crash here.”

“Oh.”

“Babyyyy!” Mingyu shoots up from his seat and rushes to you with arms wife open when you surface in the room. He was beaming at the sight of you, puppy senses fully kicking in. A faint smell of alcohol and his cologne hits your nose when he bends down and engulfs you in a hug, his face nuzzling deep into your neck.

“Miss you,” he mumbles with a tight squeeze and you run your fingers through his short locks.

“Missed you too, bub. Should we get you home?”

Mingyu pulls you off him to hold you by your shoulders, his lips pursed and eyebrows scrunching, “no no, not yet. Comeeee, join usssss.”

You’re dragged by your tall boyfriend to the dining table, both Seungcheol and Jeonghan giggling but also sending you an apologetic look for the state that Mingyu is in.

“What are we doing?” You question when he offers you chopsticks and shows you all the food on the table.

“We’re celebrating Minghao’s birthday so we have to stay first, okay?” Seungcheol laughs at your boyfriend’s justification.

“Aaaand Hao is where exactly?”

Mingyu shrugs, “dunno. But that’s okay, we called him awhile ago already and we even sang for him on live. Do you want a drink?”

You reach out to stop his hands from pouring the alcohol on the glass, “no i’m good.” He looks at you intently and then decides against convincing you to drink. Instead, he sits back down and wraps his arms around your waist, sighing softly when his head rests on your shoulder.

“You okay, my love?” You ask after kissing the top of his head. “Tired?” He nods against your shoulder and hum an affirmative. “Maybe we should go—“

“Noooo,” your gentle giant whines, a full pout on his lips, making both his hyungs laugh at him.

“Okay, okay.”

“We’re still having fun… well, they’re having fun,” Mingyu gestures towards his two older members with scrunched brows.

You reach your arm up to touch his cheek, caressing his soft skin, “And you’re not?”

“They’re making fun of me.”

“We are not!” Seungcheol denies with a laugh.

“You laughed when the fans called me a potato on live.” The two boys start giggling again, recalling the conversation on the many forms of potatoes Mingyu could represent.

“I also said you were handsome with your short hair,” Cheol added, “the potato comment is just funny!”

Jeonghan, who was seated on Mingyu’s other side, now pokes at your boyfriend’s fingers before snorting with a laugh, “heh. french fries.”

Seungcheol and Jeonghan erupt in laughter much to Mingyu’s chagrin, and you yourself couldn’t help but giggle at the antics of the two boys. Mingyu crosses his arms defiantly, sulking like there’s no tomorrow.

“Oh cmon, Gyu, it’s funny!” The group’s resident trickster calls out.

“Babyyyyyy, protect meeee,” your boyfriend whines, hiding his face on your shoulder. Mingyu was no stranger to being teased by his members, and almost always, he’s a very good sport at taking it all in and staying calm and collected. But the facade easily drops the moment you’re around. He gets to be his true self, a big baby. Your big baby. Luckily for him, the boys listen to you.

“Okay, cut it out, guys,” you call, earning a smile from your boyfriend which immediately drops the next second when you say, “the potato is sad.”

“HEY!” Mingyu’s bottom lip juts out as he scowls at you, not at all impressed by your joke. You leave a kiss on his lips and he tries hard to hide the smile.

“I’m kidding, I don’t even know why they think that. You’re my puppy,” you quickly correct, cupping his cheeks and pecking his lips, “my handsome puppy.” That was enough to have your boyfriend unravel his arms and wrap them around your waist, a huge smile on his face as he leans on your shoulder. He was flustered beyond words. If there was one thing Mingyu agreed on, it’s that he was a puppy.

“You’re so whipped,” Jeonghan states the obvious and while you knew it was directed to your boyfriend, it also felt like it was a jab at you. Eitherway, neither you nor Mingyu denied it. Especially Mingyu. He was deeply in love with you and it was written all over his face.

You settle in nicely to a conversation with the boys, discussing the new cafe that just opened near the Hybe building and talking about the recent broadcast shows they’ve done for the comeback.

With each passing minute, the more Mingyu clings onto you like a koala. Mostly smiling and staring at you with lovestruck eyes that would immediately change into a silly face if you looked back at him. Eventually, his head constantly leaned on your shoulder or his face buried in your neck, relishing in the way your hand would subconciously reach up to run your fingers through his hair or scratch lightly at his scalp. You really loved his shorter hairdo, never missing a chance to compliment him about it. When he had cut his hair, he worried you’d stop running your fingers through them, which is why moments like these, even with his shorter strands, always made him sigh in content.

“What’s wrong?” You quiz when he pulls on your shirt sleeve after you laugh at one of Jeonghan’s jokes, your hands detaching from his hair to give the older member a high five. When you look at Mingyu, his eyes were even more half lidded than earlier, and the bags underneath a little more red and puffy.

“Nothin’,” he feigns but you know what he wants.

“Hmm… you sure you just don’t want my whole attention?” Mingyu scrunches his face in shock, like he’s trying to deny the way you just exposed him. But he doesn’t say anything, and instead, juts out his lower lip for his biggest pout of the night.

You decide to tease him a little bit more and roll your eyes playfully, putting your attention back to two of his brothers who were currently going through funny videos of Minghao.

Mingyu huffs loudly and tugs you closer to him, earning a giggle from you. “Okay big boy, I was only kidding, you have my attention,” he tries to maintain his sulking but fails badly when his lips quirk into a smile after you plant a kiss on them.

“I love you,” he whispers, blushing wildly at his own confession and hiding behind your shoulder blades.

“I love you too, Gyu. But can I bring you home now? You look like you’re about to fall asleep any minute.”

“Nooooo,” Mingyu whines loudly.

You were about to reason but Seungcheol beats you to it, “Mingoo, my hyung’s about to come home now. You guys have to leave soon.”

“See, baby? Cheol needs us out of the house.”

“That’s rude,” he complains, “but his hyung likes me. We can stay.”

You flash Cheol an apologetic look, letting him know you got it under control. Just then, you stand up and bend down to cup Mingyu’s face, forcing him to look at you. “Baby, we have to go. If you fall asleep on me here, you bet I won’t be carrying you home. So choose, big guy, do you want to be beside me in bed tonight? Or beside Seungch—“

“OKAY! BYE HYUNGS!” The 6 foot 2 man shoots up from his chair in full height, not even giving you enough time to process things before he’s pulling at your hand and dragging you out of the dining room, “We’re going. Thank you for the food, Coups hyung!”

“YAH!” Jeonghan scolds, “you said you would bring me home!”

[dashing-disaster]

Bad Beer and Naked Rodents

Thank you @xmidhel for beta reading!

also on AO3

“You know,” Sal drawls, twisting the cap off another beer and handing it over, “for someone with an above average IQ, you’re dense as fuck.”

Tommy glares but accepts the bottle without protest. It’s his third. He takes a long sip and shudders. Bud Light. Why did Sal have to be such a fucking stereotype? But he was too tired to complain. He was too tired to do much of anything right now.

“He’s not wrong,” Lucy said to his left and Tommy directed his glare towards her instead. Like Sal, she wasn’t impressed.

“What? You know it’s true. There you are, genuinely happy for the first time in…” she pauses to think, “for the first time since I met you, actually.”

“Ever” Tommy supplies miserably, sinking further into the couch cushions. Something pokes into his right kidney and he reaches underneath himself, pulling out a small doll with messy blue hair, a pink ruffled dress and a … horn?

“Unicorn Barbie,” Sal exclaims and snags the doll from his hand. “Thanks man, you just saved this household a lot of sweat and tears. Look, babe, he found her!”

“Uncle Tommy to the rescue,” Gina says dryly, without even looking up from her laptop where she’s furiously typing some email that’s probably important and Tommy feels a pang of guilt at intruding on her peace and quiet unannounced at 9pm on a week day, Lucy in tow. He’s unable to dwell on it, however, because Lucy pipes up again.

“Let’s circle back here for a moment, your life was going great, you were happy, your hair was even starting to look good-“

“Hey!”

“Don’t interrupt me, Thomas. My point is, you got scared of commitment for three seconds and tell Evan Buckley, Evan Buckley, to go off to frolic on Grindr? I’m sorry, but do you know how stupid that is? Do you have any idea what happens to guys like Evan Buckley on Grindr?”

“Say his name like that one more time and I swear to God.” It comes out with far more venom than intended and he cringes internally. Why does he have to be such a bitch? It’s a credit to their love for him that none of his friends even bat an eye.

They’re not gentle either, and Tommy’s kind of glad about it. He doesn’t deserve gentle. Not now, maybe not ever again.

“What happens to guys like him on Grindr,” Sal asks curiously and then frowns. “And what do you know about Grindr?”

“My cousin wanted to try it out but he’s super paranoid about technology stealing his data, man’s still got a Nokia. So we set up his profile on my phone. He decided it wasn’t for him 10 minutes in but I kept the app and sometimes I go window shopping when downtime gets too long.”

“Why am I not surprised in the slightest,” Tommy mutters into his beer. Lucy is undeterred.

“Anyway, Gabe’s no hag either and similarly baby-faced as Buck so every time I open the app they’re on him in minutes. Seriously, it’s like The Walking Dead and some of the messages I get are borderline illegal. And don’t get me started on the dick pics. They’re not even nice-looking dicks most of the time.”

“Is there such a thing as a nice-looking dick? I’ve always found they all look a little like mole-rats.”

Sal, who’s been fiddling with Unicorn Barbie’s hair in a futile attempt to get out some of the knots pauses and makes a pitiful little sound staring wide-eyed at his wife who’s still neither looking up from her screen, nor is she pausing her aggressive typing, and Tommy’s both impressed and a little scared of that level of multi-tasking.

“Don’t worry, bud, Gi loves your dick. You’ve got three little monsters to prove it.”

Sal shoots Lucy a look so dirty Tommy almost laughs.

“I love the man attached to it. It’s still a mole-rat, though.” A beat of silence, then Gina looks up from her laptop for the first time in two hours, finding her husband’s eyes across the coffee table. “I love mole-rats.”

Lucy snorts, but Sal looks so pleased even Tommy has to smile.

“Still, though,” Lucy picks up the previous topic again, “are we sure it’s a good idea to throw Buck into a world of mole-rats and creepy old dudes wanting him to call them ‘daddy’?”

Tommy decidedly does not look in Sal’s direction. He loves Lucy and Gina but this is a topic one only discusses with one’s very best of friends.

“A world of disappointment, more like. Buck’s had Tommy now, anything else will just be a let-down.” The dirty grin spreading on Sal’s face tells Tommy he’s about to be in trouble. And he’s right.

“We didn’t call my boy here Nine-Inch-Nail in high school for nothin’.”

“Okay, first of all, that is such a lie,” the grin goes impossibly wider, “and second, I am not 9 inches, okay?”

Three sets of eyes wander down to his crotch and if it wasn’t these exact three people, Tommy would be so uncomfortable right now. As it is, he simply huffs and shoves a throw pillow into his lap, crossing his arms like a petulant toddler.

“I’m 8.6.”

Silence.

Then all three of them burst out laughing. He tries to hold on to his petulance, but he only lasts about ten seconds before the corners of his mouth begin to twitch and he finds himself joining in against all odds.

“As I was saying,” Sal hiccups after they’ve all calmed down again, “Buck doesn’t need any other mens’ mole-rats. He only needs Tommy’s giant mole-rat.”

Tommy groans.

“God, I hate you.”

Half past midnight Gina pulls the plug and throws them out. Sal tries to offer him the guest room, but he declines. As much as he loves his best friend’s daughters, he doubts he’ll can be Fun Uncle Tommy in the morning and he hates disappointing them.

As they wait for their Uber to pull up, Tommy feels strong fingers wrap around his wrist and a moment later he’s pulled into a tight hug.

“Don’t fuck up your life like that, Tom, not again. You were finally so happy. And I like you happy. ” Sal’s voice is quiet next to his ear, but there’s a softness to it that is usually reserved for his daughters. Tommy feels his throat close up and he buries his face into Sal’s shoulder.

“I just don’t know how not to, Sallie,” he admits and hates how forlorn it sounds.

How forlorn he feels.

“You trust him. I know it’s the most terrifying thing to do, believe me I do. But you gotta.”

Sal pulls back to catch his eyes, but keeps hold of Tommy’s shoulders.

“This man is the best thing that’s ever happened to you, Tom, and if you give up on what you have now, you will regret it for the rest of your life. But in order to keep it, you need to let him in and you need to trust him to know what he wants. It’s not your place to decide that for him.

And I know you want to let him set the pace, but you can only do that as long as you’re able to keep up. This relationship is about the both of you and if things are moving too fast, you have to tell him that. It’s not fair to either of you if you don’t.

And Tommy, you have to talk to him about your shit.”

Tommy opens his mouth to protest but Sal shuts him up with a shake of his head.

“No buts. Buck isn’t stupid. Do you really think he hasn’t clocked by now that you have trauma? I’m not saying you gotta tell him all of it at once. But you need to start somewhere.”

Sal pulls him back in roughly and presses a kiss to his temple.

 “I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you. He wants to take care of your heart so badly. Let him. Let him love you. All of you.

And if it all goes to shit anyway, you know that I’ll be right here. I always will be.”

Tommy bursts into tears.

It’s 3am when he finally finds himself knocking at the same door he closed behind himself for what he thought would be the last time less than ten hours ago.

It’s telling that it takes Evan just under half a minute to open it. It’s more telling that his eyes are red-rimmed, and he’s still wearing the same clothes.

Evan’s terrible at hiding his emotions, doesn’t even try to most of the time. It’s one of the many things Tommy loves about him.

Right now, he seems to experience all of them at the same time.

Hope, when he opens the door. Relief, when his eyes fall on Tommy in the hallway.

Hurt, anger, fear, concern, fondness, and finally back to hope.

He’s silent. Waiting.

Tommy takes a breath.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

They look at each other, the insecurity and fear hanging between them like a cloud of vapor, so thick Tommy can almost taste it.

But there’s something else, too. Smaller, more fragile, and yet persistent like a moth chasing the light.

It’s the same thing Tommy’s seen in Evan’s eyes earlier.

Hope.

For a time, neither of them moves, as if they’re scared, that if they do it’ll spook and leave them alone in the dark again.

A minute passes. Two.

Somewhere in the building a baby begins to cry.

Evan steps aside.

[lukazade]

These kids are NOT studying rn

[sysig]

You're still standing off to the side. Somehow, center stage has shifted from under your feet without you realizing, and you're standing in the wings, performing to no one.

Starring Role (Patreon)

[braxix]

Next up: All of Valinor is confused on where Elrond came from. Finrod decides to play detective and finds out Elrond called Maedhros atya this one time. He puts 2 and 2 together and gets 5. Everyone is confused.

[doublekanble]

deer (in a head light)

Alastor/reader (gnc)

platonic-romantic. (almost everyone thinks you two are in love or is extremely baffled by the fact, a bit more romantic for me but can be seen as anything actually i just like writing people being sort of stupid)

word count: 5.6k.

or, collectively, everyone's reaction to the fact. Nifty is there👍. no real warning this is a normal fic part two to this.

Husk have never gone through this level of raw mental torture, while Angel thinks it’s absolutely hilarious how hard is it for Husker to accept that one of the most feared Overlord of all Pride Ring is vying for a cute lil fella like you. What started out as a small remark over the rim of a particularly strong cup of gin about how Alastor have been seemingly hovering around you, making small talks that you try to keep up with confused enthusiasm - soon turn into listing off every growing instances of odd affections that no one ever thought he’s capable of, but it’s yours in abundance.

You’re standing up with the intention of going outside? Unless he’s actively in a conversation (and several time, even during one) Alastor will find a convenient excuses to walk with you. You’re cold? Everyone else better be cold too, either that or hope to God he have anything to give you to wear. Hungry? Thirsty? Almost like a caretaker, he’s always making sure you have little bites of food and drink here or there, reminding you like clockwork. Staying in your room for the day? Your room is close to Angel, and the first time he come out of his room, fresh from a hangover, only to catch the tail end of a red coat and a greeting disappearing behind your door, it takes everything in him to try and rationalizing not breaking the door down.

(Husk thinks he was being overprotective. Angel brushed it off with a nervous chuckle. It’s a good thing, he remarks, if only Angel kept that attitude.)

The idea of Alastor actually taken interest in anyone, even positively, send shivers down his spine. Husk have been one of the older soul that fell into the hand of the sadistic Overlord, one that did just enough to keep his earn and do what he want when Alastor would’ve gotten busy with a new project or two. He knows he’s useful enough to Alastor, even with the occasional slipped up, learning quickly where to tread and where to back down. The Radio demon is insane, but he is surprisingly much more lenient with people than he often let on, but not as much as he is with you.

Which quickly became a thorn that Angel uses to dug into his side. Old battle-worn Husk cannot wrap his head around the fact that you, of all people in Hell, somehow get back on Alastor good side and stays there for longer than anyone thought you could.

You are more than bearable, don’t get him wrong. Good at reading and picking up on certain cues to pleased people (more particularly, the fact Husk likes to be alone most of the time), and in spite of being just a tad bit too stubborn at times, is generally a polite and entertaining thing to have around. It would’ve made sense for Alastor to wants to keep you for fun, if not for how you two started out.

Having missing out on your first introduction, all he have to go off of is your debrief of it on the one day you want to try whiskey. You’d damn near spat it out, opting to just sit with some soda instead (he didn’t try to poke too much, you’re almost like a pop-up pirate at time). Husk figured you would earn the ire of the most egotistical man he’d ever known, considering how you loudly asked Charlie for Alastor's resume as a way to try and barred him from working here.

Of course, that didn’t work, both you and Vaggie are long-time victims of Charlie convincing puppy gaze, and Alastor secured him and Nifty a spot at the hotel. But Husk was extremely adamant it would put you on a black book with Alastor, still remembering how Alastor grip on his cane would tighten just a bit whenever you spoke up on the first day. And yet, you get to laugh about it.

-

“Yer just bein superstitious kitten. At this point ‘m pretty sure dude just got the hots for them, nothing big.”  Angel fiddles with his phone on one set of hand, the other propping himself on the bar counter, holding a popsicle to his mouth. He wants to tell the spider that’s absolutely not how the word superstitious should be use, but he digressed. “We’ve been at this for days, if he gonna do something, we would’ve known.”

Husk scoffed, throwing the piece of cloth he’s been using to furiously wiping down a stain someone left on the counter over his shoulder.

“Yeah right, as if you can get your head out of your ass enough to see that.” He ignores Angel smirk, already knew where this can go if he let it, almost like a whisper, he spat. “I’m just saying, he ain’t the Radio demon for show. You lots know nothing about whatever he got planned in his shitty fucked up head.”

Forced contractor be damn, this bar is his pride and joy, or whatever’s left of it anyway.

At that, Angel sends his attitude right back, hand(s) flickering, “And I’m saying he’s head over heels. What? Ya wanna explain the fucker just- casually waltz up to them and kissin' their fucking hand as a morning greeting? Cus’ I’m calling bullshit. Nobody even doing that fucking thing anymore, and he’s doin’ it every chance he gets! Like, have you even seen them?!” Almost like a comedy setup, they both look over to the chattering at the top of the stairs.

Over the railing, you’re rushing off from Alastor’s side to catch up to Nifty, who’s desperately nagging you to come and help her with a spot she can’t dust off with a ladder, having long depleting the fun of falling off from it. And almost like instinct, he took your hand and planted a gentle peck, along with a well wish for your day.

You, with your other hand occupied and being dragged away too fast after the fact for you to formulate a real respond, simply perks up and laugh, waving at him before you fully give into the little bug-like demon and let her rushed the both of you to the other side of the hotel – Alastor stands and watch you fully disappearing behind a corner before turning his head and look directly at the pair. His mic sounding nothing except for a low drones of static.

Husk expertise kicking in, he looks straight ahead instead, wiping down the counter again just to be safe. Angel’s years of acting led him to immediately start talking about the latest project he’s involved in, popsicles stick held from his face. Husk can’t be too bothered by it this time, at least he’s reading the room. But even with their combined effort, it still doesn’t stop Alastor from manifested himself right by the bar, smiles almost pull taut, a too jolly “How is it going gentlemen?” and a request for a cup of moonshine, with a tune contorting just to sound much too whimsical for anyone else except him echoes from his microphone, and he’s off again.

“…y’know, you can just say you’re sorry for being wrong Whiskers~”

“Go fuck yourself.”

-----

Vaggie knows that no matter how much she tries to warn Charlie about the cannibal murderer in their own cozy hotel, her partner can and have constantly willed it away with loving words and cute beady eyes that she can’t fight against. Her loving and trusting nature always been the tried-and-true counter to Vaggie’s much more doubtful and skeptical side. Recalling the way you refer to it (two people working in harmony, balancing out each other’s nature, like a tango, a secret rhythm unknown to anyone but them), she smiles.

It dropped the moment she remembers the matter at hand, specifically, you, a friend that have grown dear to her heart, and the cannibal murderer she very much hated guts - growing close to yours. She’s not sure whether this qualifies for a tango when she’s dragging her feet and Charlie’s tap dancing.

Vaggie would’ve been glad you have virtually zero comment on the fact Alastor is getting close to you, and with her luck, purposefully ignoring it (what’s with you and dive bombing out of the conversation the moment the topic came up), if not for the fact Charlie is very insistent on letting you know all about it (=> conversation you have to dive out of). You and Vaggie traded favors all the time, exclusively about Charlie, who always try to bite off a bit more than she can chew.

Usually, you did a much better job on keeping Charlie from trouble than Vaggie actually can, having the heart she lacks to guilt her partner into keeping still or stop her from running into red light traffic. Yet a pattern emerges soon after this deal started that you three all pick up on, much to Charlie’s delight.

Somehow, some way, Charlie aged old puppy dog eyes are much, much more effective when the both of you are right next to each other. Alone, while Vaggie can’t turn her down, you can and have consistently do so. But together, you both would turn to each other, and you either would give into Charlie first, or wash your hand completely from the whole situation altogether, both decisions are equally awful, and often left Vaggie alone on the line of defense.

Like that time you asked for the Radio demon resume, being extremely firm on his demeanor being horrible for customer service and how unfit it would be for a hotel to house someone who clearly doesn’t want to help or be help. Vaggie remember the chills running up her spine as you stand firmly in the face of the greatest mystery to Hell even after all this time and not even batting an eye to his straining words or the implications of it. Even going so far as to point out that he’s a liability and can’t keep himself straight for anything worth the hotel’s effort.

Only for Charlie to held onto your (and Vaggie’s) hand and tell you both she can do this. She remembers it took you not even 5 second to turn towards her with a wistful gaze, a smile pulls on your lips, and put a hand on her shoulder.

Aside from her first real injuries, it was the biggest betrayal she’d ever gone through.

Vaggie like to think it doesn’t sting so badly that her partner and her friend are now growing more used to the giant red flag stalking their halls. If not also for the fact she have to be in on your effort of stopping Charlie from bringing up a weird line of conversation while you still - albeit not fully of your own volition - feeding into her girlfriend delusion of being a matchmaker. It wouldn’t be so hard if you just, try to at least calm Charlie down yourself, but your tendencies to avoid particularly specific conversation makes her boomerang from appreciation to pure exasperation.

Especially when she would be fighting her love for Charlie to keep your dignity intact.

“But Vaggiee…!” clinging onto her left arm, Charlie tries her best to bring her girlfriend’s eyes back to her. “Just look at them! They’ve never looked at anyone like that!”

She would love to argued otherwise, you have a habit of looking at everyone like that, something with making people feel more welcome to talk to you. But all thought vanished from her head when she turns to try and make an argument, and for a brief moment she forgot what they were talking about. Charlie’s good at distracting her, but she steeled herself and stop Charlie from jumping off into this and making it so much harder on you than it already is.

(God, the things Vaggie’d do for love.)

“I know you really want to, hun, but - I’m just, not sure about this. It’s Alastor we’re talking about. I get them being into him or whatever, but you’d really set them up with the Radio demon? You know…”

Charlie was slowly wilting a bit, but picks herself up at the hesitation, thinking it’s her chance, she races over her words. “A thoughtful, charming and-“

But still can’t finish fast enough, and Vaggie have to advert her eyes, she can’t handle a sad Charlie that well. “and a horrible cannibalistic freak, Charlie. He’s not a good person.” At that, her girlfriend really clings onto her.

“Vaggie…this is a hotel for redemption! We've got to believe that people can change…” Charlie’s not addressing her point, there’s no real way to denying the fact Alastor is really just who he is. A rotten, rancid piece of meat. Redemption be dammed when he doesn’t even believe in it. “And! I have proof that Alastor likes them~” Pulling out little drawn post-it-notes from her front pocket, Charlie nearly doubled over while trying to put all of them onto the table in front of Vaggie, and you.

“I’m going to go back to my room.” You abruptly stand up, nervously grinning while shuffling out of their office. Having sat completely stilled while hoping that you can somehow divert the topic ever since the start of the conversation, you gave up. Completely disregarding Charlie’s attempt at making you stay. “It’s late, and I should’ve been in bed some hours ago…”

“Wait! I swear that this time I-“ Charlie tries to reach for you again, but Vaggie held strong. Nodding towards the exit, you mouthed her a quick thank you as you walked out, wishing them both good night while gently pushing the doors close. “I have the proof…”

“C’mon babe…” visibly deflating, Charlie sat herself back into Vaggie’s arms with a pout. She doesn’t have the heart to press this too deeply, so she pushed back her hair and give her a small peck on her eyelid, she always did have pretty eyes. “You know they’re not going to listen to you if you keep ambushing them like this.”

“I know, but I just- really love them both…” Vaggie raised an eyebrow at that. “And they seem so, nice together. Alastor always makes sure to greet them every day, they always wished him goodnight-“ she scoffed.

“They do that for everyone hun, and I’m pretty sure that bastard just do it because…well, who knows? He’s weird, who knows what he’s thinking…maybe he’s just trying to- toot his own horns playing nice. He does that a lot.”

When Charlie stays still, Vaggie really thought she could end this tonight, for both your sake and her’s. But then, as if was given water from the spring of life, with her back straight, she sat right up and held firmly onto Vaggie shoulders.

“But he’s trying so hard for them! Don’t you see how he’s spending so much time just hanging around them? Oh, and don’t forget that he asked them, specifically them, what they think of his radio show! He doesn’t do that for anyone else Vaggie! He brings them food when they forgot to eat. They told him about stuff they would’ve ever tell us without prompting! And you have to see the way he looks at them when they’re just, sit together and, and-“

“Woah. Slow down Char. Through your nose.” Even like this, she’s endearing. She held Charlie’s arm and bring her closer.

“You have to see Vaggie, he looks at them like…how you look at me!” Vaggie pauses. Charlie is getting to her, she have to stop her from talking or she’ll give in. She thinks about how miserable you would be sitting through an actual talk about this, it doesn’t help.

“And, you’re one of the most wonderful things that happens to me, Vaggie. I love everyone in the hotel, and I would give my everything for them,” knowing her, she would “but you.” She breathes, and Vaggie feels her breath stuck in her throat. “You are my everything. We’re perfect together. And I really love them, and I just thought…”

Charlie looked at her with such a soft and gentle look, her eyebrows slightly drawn together, lips jutting out just a little bit. “I thought he’s perfect for them, that they’ll be perfect together too. I know he’s not the best person, and you don’t trust him. You don't have to. But I think he’s doing his best for them, and they’re doing so much for him too...” their hands, held tightly together “So please, trust me. I genuinely think this can work out. They deserve to be love like I did too.”

Vaggie tries so hard to held strong, opting to stay silent instead of replying and stoking the growing flame, but Charlie looks at her with her big shiny eyes, and she caved.

“…Alright… I guess he haven’t really…done anything to them yet…” before Charlie could jump up in joy, Vaggie tries to get her focus back “But if he touches a single hair on them- woah!”

Wrapped in her arms, Vaggie barely able to get out the full sentence as Charlie rambles on. “Oooh, thank you thank you thankyouthankyou I knew you’d understand! Oh there is so much I want to do too-“

“Charlie, bit too tight…”

“Oops! Sorry!”

Coming down from her high, she stares into her lover’s eye with the brightest grin possible. It takes everything in Vaggie to think about how disappointed you’ll be, so she closed her eye and takes a breath. “We have to let them sort it out themselves, though. No matchmaker.”

“But-”

“You know how closed off they can be. Give them time Charlie. They can find their own way home.” Like that, Charlie smiles a smile so bright and gentle, reserve only for Vaggie. “Like you and me?”

And all she can think is that this might not be that bad after all.

“Like you and me.”

----

“So...thissss is what the youth are…into?”

“Arguably, it’s somewhat better than what I have as a kid.”

Pentious squinted at the device in his hand, clawed hands carefully swipe through your ‘carefully curated feed’, whatever that means. You sat next to him on your balcony, various knick knacks on the side table he insisted you need, hands considerably less clawed holding a book you’ve never managed to get through past the 10th page, as you only ever try to read it when the moon is blue and you always ended up forgetting the previous pages, something he learned while he was helping with cleanups.

He’s flustered when you laugh at a joke without needing to look at the captions in the video, wanting to pretend he completely understood what just happened. It takes you a bit to calm down and explain to him what was so funny, it only serves to confused him further. You grin and handed your book over to Frank without putting a bookmark in first (who then immediately turns the page and started narrating half-way through to the other eggs), reaching for the phone.

“I’ll put on something a bit easier to get used to, is that ok with you?”

“But, aren’t we learning how to be ‘hip’?” you cackle, he tries not to shrink into himself.

“We can leave that for some other day i think, you don’t need to be hip or anything right now. And besides,” handing him your phone, he minded his claws, “I think you’re cool on your own.” You hum and turn to an open sketchbook on the table, picking up a pencil, you start to sketch one of the egg boiz running about your room.

Pentious nearly burst into tears, he should’ve known his friends (or, you) would’ve never made fun of him. Turning to your device again, his attention is immediately captured by a cat video.

You two stayed like that for what must’ve been an hour or two, occasionally checking up on what the other’s is doing. (he would show you the cutest video, you showed him your barely intelligible sketch. He feels like you’re sketching his nightmare he said, you’re flattered). With almost all of his eggies already tiring themselves out some time ago and gathered around both of your feet (and his tail), bundled up in your duvet and pillows. Except for egg boiz number 3, who’s in his lap as both are captured by a video of a dog getting a haircut (a mini-American shepherd, you chimed in happily that it’s one of your favorite video).

Then, the calm afternoon was broken by a singular knock to your door. You and your still cognizant companion(s) look up from your respective entertainment at hand and stare at each other. You glance over to him, head nodding towards the door, he shrugs, growing restless, you pat his shoulder as you stand up and walk away.

Pentious really did try to turn back and focus on the groomers narrating a particularly endearing moment in the nine minutes long video, but he can’t help but be on edge when a familiar voice sing a greeting too loud for him to ignore, and he realized just who is at the door, your door, his new best friend's door (verdict still out on whether you consider him as one).

Taking a peek, assuring to himself it’s to keep you safe, he locks eyes with red and half of his soul descend into the ring below, the other half turns him right back to your phone when the red starts to raise his eyebrows at him. He can keep you safe from a safe distance surely, but when he tries to hug the egg in his lap to comfort himself and feels nothing, he freezes. Horror-struck, he turns and look at you, specifically your back, the other half of his soul joins the first.

Without him realizing, number 3 already slipped out of his grasp and is now climbing on your shoulder and interjecting your conversation with the gentleman, who is now full-on glaring at him whenever your head slightly turn away. He gulped, but he still put your phone back onto the table and stand up, forget to mind his still sleeping minions at his tail. Thank Lucifer they decided to stay silent for once.

“I was just going to stay in tomorrow too… maybe- oh, Sir Pentious? What’s up?” You stare at him, easy-going as always. Almost like you’re unaware of the way Alastor is smiling at him. Pentious can only thank whoever is in charge of fate for the fact you slotted yourself right between them, and cursed them all the same for the fact you can’t covered up the demon’s face.

Clearing his throat, he tries to steered his nerves and curb his stuttering. “I see that someone have rudely interrupt our study session. May I have your permission to…”

At the sounds of radio static grows, his words in turns wilted as he stares into bright, glowing red and yellow growing in volume. Luckily, you manage to pick this up and covered for him. “Oh no don’t worry, Al was just asking when I’m free to hang out with.” As you turn to that same terrifying shade of red, it immediately transformed into a charming smile.

“Why, hangout is such a casual term dear. I prefer to call it a trip! Much more exciting that way.” With his usual theatrics delivery and a backing of voices coming from the microphone staff he uses to give you a gentle knock on the head, clashing with your much more casual tone brushing him off, Pentious wishes he can see this as endearing.

“Oh you’re trying to goat me into going back there again.” That wasn’t a question on your end. Alastor smiles in amusement, but it strained when number 3 chimes in and tries to asked you where is back there. He’s extremely grateful the demon chooses to ignore it, letting you entertain the egg instead.

“I do not know what you’re referring to at all.” Closing his eyes and leaning a bit to the side, the demon bounces a bit on the tip of his shoes and sings. “Otherwise, it seems my presence is making our welcomed guest uncomfortable.” Pentious tries to stand tall for you and number 3, but Alastor preference for getting up close and personal is mincing his confidence to bits. “I guess I will settle for an extra visit by tonight to talk a bit more about your hectic schedule, if that’s alright with you Ma chère?”

You laugh a bit and agrees with him, saying a quick sorry while he brushed it off with a smile, adjusting his coat’s flawless lapel with one hand, the other reaching for yours. Lifted up to his lips, he planted there a kiss with a look that can passed off as soft. Pentious looks away the moment their eyes lock again, whistling like he hasn’t been blanching at the two of you.

As you turn to close the door, he could’ve sworn red dials were looking at him in the seconds you look back to him, completely in contrast with the life-threatening aura now stand outside the door.

“Haha, sorry about that. I didn’t have time earlier and he was busy, so…” you trailed off, explanation offering him nothing but more questions. “I’ll try to be a bit more mindful about this next time, yeah? Didn’t know he still held something against you.”

You want to keep doing study sessions with him? He perks up a bit at the implication, while choosing to ignore the second part, until his egg started speaking.

“Uh, boss number two, why does Alastor kiss your hand so much?” Number 3 raises his hand, still sitting snugly in your arms. Pentious makes a note to make him sleep on the edge of the bed tonight. It doesn’t help that you’re leading them back to the others, who also started to chime in with their own questions. He can tell this time you’re getting a bit miffed, smiles growing a bit taut and looking off somewhere, unable to let them somehow ruin your goodwill towards him, he cracked. “SILENCE! Cease with your silly questions right now!”

You look at him, and he would’ve shrink into himself if not for how you seem more surprised than angry, as your brows relax and you smile a bit, he let himself breathe. “It’s alright, they’re cute, they can get away with a little questioning I think. And hm…” you bounce on your feet in a slightly familiar manner, he sweats a bit. “-I mean, it’s normal for friends to be close, so I don’t see any problem with it.”

“Oh…friends can kiss each other on the hand?” number 1 jump up. You laugh.

“Of course they can. Alastor loves getting into people’s space too, so I wouldn’t put it past him.”

He would’ve tried to say something and help you out with the questioning, but it hit him that at least in his time, the specific to the gesture was more of a formal greeting. But he takes into account the fact it's Alastor, and how whenever he sees you two together, the Radio demon always seemingly follows after your heels like a shadow tie too tightly, and he shivers. Anxiety fills his heart as he tries to navigate this thought.

“I do have to say, why is it that he tends to get so…closssse…to you?” You visibly stiffen at this, but as he takes your hand in his, trying his best to be tactful, still minding the claws, you stare. “Could it be…he’s trying to threaten you, dear friend?” he tries to recall how you comforts him in time of distress, and did his best to echoes the same sentiment to you.

“Whatever it is, you can share it to me! I will, uh- “

“You’ll duel him, right boss?”

his eggs chimes in where he falters, he follows their lead.

“Duel! Yesss! A duel to the death! That Radio bastard will regrets the day he-“ You squeeze his hand, and he drop his false bravado and let you seated him back on the balcony, letting number 3 dropped from his spot in your arms to the duvet covering the floor.

(with much less grace compared to you, but all the heart. he takes the fact you’re still around that he’s doing great.)

“We don’t need any of that silly. He’s my friend, I think.”

You fall back onto your seat, number 1 climb up to your lap with a question. “You two are friends? Like with boss?” sitting up, you sing an enthusiastic agreement while reaching for your notebook again. Pentious swore the sketch is looking more and more familiar by the line.

“Yeah, like with Sir Pentious! Al’s intimidating but he’s fun to hang around.” Hunching over while minding number 1 watching in your lap, your grin drops to something a bit kinder. He feels like he’s overstepping, despite the fact the room is void of anyone else. “He nice to talk with, I’ve never seen him shutting up on anyone else’s terms. That’s a good thing.” He wanted to say that’s a bit too barebone, even for himself, but then, turning to him with a smirk, you added. “Don’t tell him i said this, but he’s ssssuch a bitch sometimes. It’s fun though.”

Nodding with a much more serious look, Pentious takes your word as a command. “Not a word to my grave!”

“Hehe, that’s why you’re my favorite.”

Refocused on your sketch, you trust Pentious to be able to work your phone a bit better than before. He thinks he would’ve work it better if not for the tears gathering in his eyes, he takes the tissue paper you handed him without looking and wiped it away, only to panic about the long scratch he left on your screen. You laugh and assured him it’s fine, you can change the screen.

(verdict be dammed, you’re HIS best friend.)

(he took a peek at your sketch before you turn the page, and it hit him why it looks so off-putting. Antlers sprouting from two end on a figured too lanky to make out the physique of, but familiar enough all the same. He’d much prefer you go back to sketching his eggies, he said, you happily complied and he leave your room after with 5 torn note full of egg sketches and another schedule study session he pray you'll relay to Mister Alastor.)

---

“There you are darling! I was looking everywhere for you.” Calling out with joy, then stopping to take in the sight. He steadied you with one hand while you stop to catch your breath, nearly doubled into him. “I can see that you’re quite busy, seems like Nifty is giving you quite the run for your money huh!”

“Please…shut up…” you don’t need to look at him to know he’s enjoying this way more than you do, laughing at your utterly exhausted state. “I didn’t know there’s this much bugs in here… How can she even keep tracks of them??”

“Don’t feel too bad now, that one mind and health both are simply wonders to behold! Even I can’t keep up with her at times.” Trying to dust off your shoulders, he looked offended when you just swatted his hands away, waiting for an explanation.

“We’re not done yet, she’s just in the kitchen for a bit.” You pulled out your phone to check the time, Alastor squinting his eyes besides you, leaning over to keep watch and raising an eyebrow at the long scratch on the glass. “One hour before I’m free…”

“Thinking of giving up then~?”

“Yeah.”

Laughing at your tone, he takes your hand and twirl you, but not too much! Just enough daze you a bit. “Well darling, I would love to whisk you off with me for a trip downtown! I’m running low on good meat, and simply can’t afford to stained my coat while the tailor’s out of commission. But knowing you…” he’d look down-right sad if you let him. He can tell you try to keep your expression neutral, but your smile is growing to match his.

“No Al, an hour is-“

“An hour is an hour. Yes I know dear but it’s dreadfully boring without you.” Holding on still, he brings his face close to you, taking delight in the growing red on your face and you acting like nothing is out of the sort.

“You’ll survive Alastor. Nifty however…” As the sound of tiny footstep calling your name quickly approaching, he can’t help but letting a long, drawn-out sigh, backing off from you. A lost for him. You smile.

“Over here Nifty!” calling out to the little woman, you step away from Alastor to meet her half way, her stopping just before she hit your leg.

“You! I’ve been looking for you where have you been! I saw SOOOO many of them but they’re on the ceiling and I can’t reach them at all you've got to come help me – oh hiii Alastor!”

Nifty stops pulling you down the hall again just to give him a violent wave, dancing from one foot to the other and giving him time to catch up to you two, fully aware of your tradition from the moment it first started. Alastor smiles border on self-pleasing, gracious of Nifty’s effort to not drag you away just yet, less so the fact she would stares with such a wide grin. Nevertheless, he takes your hand again and bring it up, speaking all the while.

“Nifty, dearie, won’t you work our dear friend here a little less? I need them to-“ he pauses as you suddenly grip his hand and bring it up to your lips, too quick for him to stop you. And before he knew it, you both disappeared behind the corner yet again. Nifty voices and your cackle echoing down the empty hall way.

When he came back, aware of how the light flickering above his head now finally stabilizing itself, he laughs. Steadying himself, Alastor brushed off his coat and fix his monocle. Humming along with a love song slowly trickling from the microphone while walking the same way you and Nifty ran off to before. He have time to spare while waiting for you.

[velveteen-vampire]

i started writing a tuggoff fic!! you can find it here! it is definitely the best + most involved thing ive written so far and you should all read the first chapter because i worked hard on it

[asliceofzosan]

i've seen figure skater sanji and hockey player zoro before. idk if its been explored but i'd love to put it out there:

hockey player sanji (specifically goalie bc he desperately wants to avoid being checked) and then pairs skater zoro.

pairs skater zoro's long time partner has been nami. though many people ship them together a Lot, they just know each other super well. Well enough to try dating and both of them realized they don't swing that way. in fact, it makes them a really good team. they fought long and hard to claim top spots in competitions because they portray a chemistry that's separate from the rest. plus zoro can carry nami like she weighs fucking nothing. so their lifts are so much more dynamic. they even have a whole next to impossible combination that they're trying to get the ISU to name after them officially.

sanji plays for the East Blue Straw Hats in the Grand Line Hockey League – a formidable rookie group that took down lots of big names in the preseason. they want to make it all the way to the postseason playoff finals but always seem to fall short. but theyre so determined. they reignited a lot of old sparks that were no longer there for old fans and brought in new and curious fans. sanji is the starter goalie and a damn good one at that. it makes sense bc goalies are often doing splits on the ice just to make a save. he's perfected the technique that utilizes just his legs to make saves that make the crowd go fuckin insane.

we have the usual "i booked the rink to practice before you did" trope but a little more spice. in actuality, sanji loves watching pairs skating competitions. his favorite pair rn is franky and robin (mostly for robin). and he adamantly does not want to admit to anyone that he watches zoro and nami's routines much more frequently. (and if anyone asks, he always says its bc of nami. its never just bc of nami.) and zoro's besties with luffy so he always watches their matches even if he barely understands the rules. and he definitely does not stare at a certain blond starter goalie most of the match thats fucking ridiculous

one day zoro and sanji are invited to do one of those comparison videos between hockey players and figure skaters. both get to laugh at the other even Attempting to do their sport. zoro frankly looks ridiculous in all of sanji's usual goalie get-up. and sanji couldn't land an euler to save his life. the video producer suggests they try a simple pairs skating routine. sanji is like "oh i couldn't do that–hEY WHAT THE FUCK MOSSHEAD PUT ME DOWN" because zoro lifted sanji and had him sat on his shoulder like it was normal.

zoro smirks, "you might be lighter than nami, actually. wanna be my new partner?"

sanji knees him in the stomach before skating away while blushing so hard he could melt the ice beneath him.

[midnight-mourning]

What's This?

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 4❄️❄️

Sorry for the lateness! Busy few days and then realized I needed to take some time for myself and make something I enjoy, so finished this finally.

Prompt: Maybe someone teaching Moon what christmas is? My moon just recently became 'sentient' and so doesn't understand alot of things yet! So he'd have no idea what christmas is! I think it'd be cute. Doesn't have to be my Moon, of course. Just the idea that Sun hasn't told him for some reason, so someone else has to!

Word Count: 1239

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

"And put the tinsel here, here, and here!" Sun directs, point to various locations around the Daycare.

You chuckle, but follow his orders. 

The two of you were decorating for the holidays, and having found a box of decorations in the back of the Daycare's supply closet, Sun had gotten to work immediately. And had put you to work as well. Additionally, he had asked for you to order more supplies, wanting to spiff the place up as much as possible for the kids. He also mentioned wanting crafting materials for Christmas and holiday themed projects, so that was piled on to this order. 

You think his request for 30 boxes of candy canes was a little excessive, but the rest had all been reasonable and within budget. So, using what you had, and what you now had, to really go all out. 

You cut into another box, opening it to find fake holly and mistletoe, as well as a couple of wreaths. 

"So, any particular reason for this excess cheer this year?" You ask, taking the supplies out and setting them in a pile on a nearby table. 

At this, he clamps up for a moment, but then shakes his head. "Nothing specifically, it just seemed like a good opportunity! I needed ideas for the next few weeks for activities, why not do something to lift the holiday cheer!"

You think the answer was odd in its wording, but can't think of anything to say in response beyond, "Fair enough."

You're mid-decorating when the lights cut, as is usual for this time in the day. 

Without looking up from organizing colored paper and pipe cleaners, you wave in Moon's direction, "Hey, bud. You also in the Christmas spirit?"

No answer. 

You look up, and find Moon is entirely motionless. You would think he was powered off if not for the muted clicks and whirls you hear still emitting from him. 

You frown. "Moon, you alright?"

"I, what..." He tilts his head, and looks around. "What is all of this? Is something happening? Is there some, odd, birthday party occurring today?"

Your brows furrow, "Well, no. This is, these are Christmas decorations. I mean, holidays overall, but mainly for Christmas." 

He takes a step over to where tinsel is hung, picking it up between two fingers. His faceplate twists to the left, then the right. Then, he turns to you. 

"...Christmas?"

Now you're the one who's confused. 

"I, you mean, how do you—" You stop. "Moon, you don't know what Christmas is?"

He shakes his head slow. 

You clasp your hands in front of your mouth, eyes wide at the news. 

When you don't say anything, Moon seems to become apprehensive, chuckling awkwardly, "Should, should I?"

Realizing yourself, you shake your head slightly. Taking a deep breath, you break out into a grin, clapping your hands. 

"Oh, this is so fun! I can show you so many things and all the traditions. We can put up decorations together, watch movies, do some crafts, oh! We can bake cookies too! Though maybe that's not a good idea to do in the dark and—" You pause, noticing he's just staring at you completely lost. You clear your throat, speaking more slowly now. "Sorry, to answer your question, no not at all. I know you don't get a lot of exposure to everything, so it makes sense, though I don't know why Sun wouldn't—but ah, I'm so excited to tell you! If, if that's alright of course."

Moon tilts his head, and you're afraid you may have just overwhelmed him. You're about to apologize again when he laughs softly.

"I think I would like that, Star." There's a fondness to his words you can't place, it's gone when he seems to notice it himself. "If, you don't mind, that is."

You nod, eager, and can't help yourself as you rush over and take his hand, "I would be honored."

As you turn and lead him towards your grand pile of boxes and decorations, you don't know how fast his faceplate spins the moment after your hands make contact. 

You sit down and pat the spot next to you with your free hand, Moon following your lead after a moment. 

You shift so that you're sitting cross-legged across from him, and he does the same.

"Okay so..."

You start by explaining the origins of the holiday, what it means for different people, and how people celebrate depending on where they're from and such. You tell him all about every tradition you can think of, including the ones you personally do. 

Along the way, you notice Moon's body language shift from apprehensive and confused, to curious, to invested in what you say. It in turn fuels your own excitement as he asks you polite questions every so often, and you deliver every answer with as much detail as you can. 

You worry that you may be doing too much again though, so you mention such. "Sorry, I know this is a lot and I'm going super fast, I just, the holidays are really important to me you know?" Your voice grows soft and you look away, laughing shyly. "I um, I don't really get to spend them with many people anymore so I guess I just got super excited since we're friends and all. I'm probably boring you at this point aren't I? I can stop if this is a bit too much."

You start to feel embarrassment creep in. You'd been talking for ages now without stop, save for when he interjected every so often. For all you know Moon could be actually exhausted by how much you've had to say, it's kind of impossible to tell with that immobile faceplate of his. 

Color you surprised you feel a hand under your chin, turning your face back up to look at his. 

His eyes are narrowed gleefully, and his tone is soft as he gazes down at you. 

"You could never bore me, Star." He tilts his head. "You know that, right?"

Your eyes dart to the side, "I, um, I guess not, but still you must be—"

You suddenly find his face taking up your entire field of vision. And, after a moment's hesitation, he quickly plants his grin to your lips, then pulls back. "Whatever you may be thinking, it's quite the opposite. Seeing you so passionate it, it's contagious, and if I could I would ask you to never stop." 

Then, he looks away and folding his hands into his lap, making a sound similar to a cough. "Apologies I, I suppose I didn't know a better way to tell you then that. If you that was a step too far please, forgive me."

You however, are too busy trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck onto your face. 

You clear your throat. "Moon?"

"Hm?"

"If that's your way of explaining things, I wish you'd have started it sooner." Before you can think on it further, you reach up and grab his collar, pulling him back down to kiss him again. 

After a—much longer this time—kiss, you pull away, breathless. 

For a moment, Moon doesn't say anything. 

Then, "Perhaps now would be the time to ask you about hanging mistletoe around the Daycare?"

"I can think of a few good spots for it."

He chuckles, leaning in once more, "So can I."

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you to @zenkaiankoku for the request! I thought it was super adorable ^_^ Tried to do a mix of your AU with it (which is real cool btw, was reading through it like this 👀👀 the entire time lol) as well :) also had to make Moon a bit lovesick, I feel like suddenly becoming aware of yourself but having someone so willing to guide you would make anyone just fall in love hehe

If you're interested in requesting, you have until 12/13 OR until I recieve 31 requests, currently only have 13 total so plenty of space for more! See here for more details, thanks for reading!

Masterpost link

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml

[aroaceleovaldez]

im really not a fan of Rick's recent trend of recycling bits of his writing that got a good reaction the first time and acting as if that's a valid substitute for. actually bothering to write something original a second time around. It's clearly just there as a callback and nothing more.

It's "Nico's rage exploded" and "Percy's rage exploded" with the exact same paragraph formatting. It's CoTG having titles like "My Singing Makes Things Worse, and Everyone Is Totally Shocked" (reference to TLO, when Percy says he thinks his singing would cause an avalanche) or "Pretty Much the Best Good-Night Kiss Ever" (reference to TLO "Pretty much the best underwater kiss of all time") or any other number of near word-for-word references to the first series. It's Nico calling Percy "seaweed brain" in Un Natale Mezzosangue (when Percy says in TTC that anybody but Annabeth calling him that is a major offense). It's Nico and Will falling into Tartarus in TSATS word-for-word referencing Percy and Annabeth in House of Hades, despite it not making any sense for their characters (and otherwise being written as Percabeth 2™). It's the show making huge changes but keeping random "fan-favorite references" (mostly overusing "seaweed brain" and "wise girl" and emphasizing percabeth) only because they're popular in-jokes and considering that a faithful enough adaptation to market it heavily as such. It's lazy writing.

And it's a disservice to the series and to the audience, because it clearly shows Rick doesn't have original ideas anymore (though given all his writing is heavily derivative to begin with, it begs the question how much was original in the first place and how much he has difficulty when he doesn't have a structured mythological plot to work from) and that there is an expectation that the audience will just sit down and accept that behavior hook-line-and-sinker. Everything recently is clearly such lip-service to the audience, either in retcons that are overt speaking-to-camera acknowledgements of things he's been criticized on or wink-wink-nudge-nudges of community in-jokes that have no business in the actual text (see: over-use of ship names in canon). Especially since Rick tends to be about 5 years behind on the fandom uptake. It's just so disappointing to see.

[goldflinches]

the same difference (snippet)

Summary: A friend is a friend, even a few realities removed.

(or: Hob meets a different Dream. He deals with it with as much grace as he can. Which is to say, not much at all.)

---

Square/Prompt: B3 - Obsession | @dreamlingbingo

Rating: Teen

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling

Additional Notes & Warnings: Show!Hob meets Comic!Dream and Comic!Hob meets Show!Dream (Yes, Based On That Fanart by Alexxuun), First Meetings (Sort Of), Matthew Being A Menace

---

Hob’s day starts with a rude bird.

Matthew, the aforementioned rude bird, announces his surprise visit with a loud “INCOMING!” All before swooping into Hob’s small apartment through the open window, honing in on his toast, landing, and then tearing into it with gusto.

It’s six thirty-nine on another gray, drizzly morning. Hob is still groggy and his lukewarm coffee is mostly on the floor, partially on his shirt. A talking raven is eating his breakfast. Surely, this has to be some sort of ominous thing and not just the actual baseline mundanity of his life. Talking ravens have to be harbingers of…something. Lost breakfasts. Crumbs. Friends who haven’t been in touch for the past three weeks and five days—okay no, it’s too early and he’s too caffeine-deficient for that train of thought right now. Sighing, he tries to pick at the piece of toast Matthew hasn’t devoured yet, only to be met with a quick snap of a beak. “Good morning to you too,” grumbles Hob as he gets up to make his breakfast. Again.

In the kitchen, he hears the telltale susurration of sand from behind him. Hob feels a smile steal across his face immediately, then bites it back almost just as fast. He continues making his second breakfast. As he’s adding another piece of bread to the to-be-toasted pile, he says over his shoulder, “Dream, your bird is eating me out of house and—“ "Oh fuck," croaks Matthew suddenly, “Shit, I forgot—“ Alarmed, Hob whirls around, butter knife and Dream’s favorite brand of strawberry jam at the ready. And he comes face to face with his friend. Or at least, some version of Dream. One with wilder hair and sharper angles, drawn like dancing shadows of tree branches. This Dream smiles with more fang in tooth when he greets Hob with a familiar, resonant tone. “Hello, Hob Gadling.” Hob drops the jam jar.

---

Hob’s day ends with a rude bird.

It had been a long day in a long line of long days and all Hob wanted to do was enjoy a nightcap before sleeping the weekend away. The loud, insistent tapping on the door was not part of the plan. Even as he’s standing in front of the door, Hob contemplates just pretending to not be at home. The hammering on the door gets more intense, almost as if sensing his thoughts. With a defeated sigh, Hob opens a door. And of all things, a raven swoops right in.

It flies down the hall, towards the rest of his condominium with a battle caw, doing a sweep of the space as Hob trails a few paces behind it, utterly bewildered. Ravens are…omens aren’t they? Bad luck or some shoddy housekeeping in this case. He wonders what his old friend would have to say about that, might bring it up next time he deigned to drop by—no, not something worth contemplating right now. At least without a good amount of alcohol in his system.

By now, the bird has perched on his leather sofa, making its mark on the upholstery. Hob slowly approaches it when it opens its beak and, in a clearly American accent, announces, “ALL CLEAR BOSS!” Another layer of confusion is added when Hob hears a deep sigh from the entryway. The raven continues on, “C’mon Boss, you know I had to vet this rando—,” and Hob cannot believe he left the door open. He tunes out the talkative raven as he makes his way down the hallway. On the way, he grabs an…umbrella. It has some heft at least but he’s definitely had to make do with less in the past. Twisting it around in his hands, Hob starts thinking about different scenarios and exit strategies and how he is not in the mood to move on to a new life, whoever is at the door better be ready for his ferocious umbrella backhand— At the doorway stands his friend. Or some other form of his friend. One with a softer lines and sleek planes, like a reflection on the surface of a still, fathomless lake. This version of his friend smiles with only a small curl of his lips, greeting Hob with a voice he misses despite himself.

“Hello, Hob.” Hob grips the umbrella tighter.

[penumbra-mayhem]

Instinct

Tank is struggling after the Inversion, and there is only one person they can go to for help.

(I hc Tank with a stutter, more on that here.)

————————————————

“Hey,” Tank murmured as they settled in the dew-coated grass, “It’s b-been a wwhile���mmmy b-bad.”

The waking sun unfurled its rays in languor. Mourning doves stirred, greeting the light with their periwinkle coos. 

A small, cocky smile cracked across Tank’s face. “B-B-But, in mmmy defense, y-you haven’t reached out either, so…” Deflating, they hung their head and muttered, “…b-bad joke, I-I kn-know.”

Tank fiddled with the bundle of wild rosemary in their hands. They’d picked it on Sam’s land and tied the sprigs together with a strip of fabric from an old shirt. Such a pathetic offering. Why couldn’t they have brought something nicer? Why was everything they did so thoughtless?

No planning. No forethought. Just instinct.

“I-I hate t-t-to come t-t-to you wwith all mmmy shit, b-b-but I-I don’t have anyone else t-t-to t-talk t-to ab-bout this,” they explained, “Everyone I-I kn-know wwwas there. And they wwere all actually in-inside, actually d-dealing wwwith that shit and I-I wwwas just…”

Tears bubbled up in their vision. They gnawed at the raw flesh on the inside of their cheek, trying not to take their pain out on the gift in their hands or the grass around them.

They were made for destruction. It came more naturally to Tank than anything else; it was easy and safe, in its own way. There was certainty in knowing they had the power to tear everything apart. If they had been there, at least they could have used that proclivity to protect people.

“WWWhy wwwasn’t I-I there?” they whimpered, “Fuck, I-I feel guilty that I-I wwwasn’t there and-and then I-I feel guilty for wwwwishing I-I had b-b-been.”

How selfish of them. How utterly pathetic. 

“If I-I had, I-I could have at-at least fought wwwith them. I-I could have d-done something, in-instead of-of fucking n-n-n-nothing.”

Tank was at constant war with their emotions—always had been. They could do little to control them and nothing to stop them. But still they fought, trying to breathe deep and ground themself with their senses.

As they raised a shaking hand to clear their face of tears, the scent of rosemary bloomed in their nose like the breaking dawn.

It eased the onslaught within them, somewhat. 

“I-I got off easy. So I-I’m trying t-to b-b-be there for everyone. The p-pack. Sam. MMilo and Asher and-and David. Their mmmates. V-Vincent and his. I-I’m trying to rep-p-prioritize. I-I have t-to. I-I came so close t-t-to l-l-l-l-l—fuck,” they took a few shallow breaths before blubbering, “…l-l-l-l-losing e-everyone.”

The doves gathered in the boughs over Tank’s head, cooing them into a calmer state like a gentle chorus. They sat above like a crown of mourning, the weight of which was familiar, and in that familiarity was some sort of comfort.

“I-I wwwasn’t there. I-I shouldn’t b-b-be l-like this. I-I should b-be strong. I-I should b-b-be their rock. B-B-But I-I’m n-n-not. Shocker,” they sighed, bitterness sinking its fangs into their tone. 

“I-I’ve torn the in-insides of mmmy cheeks t-to shreds,” they admitted, “I-I can’t st-top checking everyone’s l-l-location on mmmy phone, it-it's b-b-becoming...obsessive. And I-I can’t go p-p-practically anywwhere wwwithout Sam.”

That morning had been difficult. Sam had offered to accompany Tank, not even knowing yet where they were headed. But they insisted on going alone, assuring him they’d be back in a couple hours and that they’d keep their location on. They couldn’t let him hear all of this. He was already dealing with enough. Far more than they were.

“WWhenever I-I l-l-lose sight of him, it-it’s l-like…it-it’s l-l-like wwwhen wwwwe l-lost the l-live feed. L-L-L…l-l-l-like I-I wwas suddenly on strings. MMMy mmmmovements wweren’t mmmy own, it-it wwwas all animal, all in-instinct. I-I wwwas shifted and sp-printing b-b-b-before I-I had even p-p-processed wwwhy.”

The morning air was steadily growing warmer, yet chills ran through Tank’s body. Tears muddled their vision. When they spoke, their voice was barely audible:

“I-I’m having n-n-n-nightmares…of-of the wwwward. That godawful st-tatic feeling it-it filled mmmy t-t-teeth wwith wwhen I-I b-b-bit at it-it. The fucking carnage I-I saw wwwhen it-it finally l-l-lifted. The b-b-bodies...if-if you could c-call them that. The b-blood. Asher’s b-b-blood, c-c-covering him and-and David and-and Sam.”

Sam.

“Fuck, I-I’ve n-n-never seen him l-l-look at-at mmmme l-l-like that b-b-before. Grab at-at mmme l-like that b-b-b-before. L-L-Like he wwwas dr-drowning, l-l-l-like he wwwwas s-suffoc-cating, and I-I-I wwwas his l-l-l-last t-t-t-tank of-of air.”

The nightmares always ended with him. Relief juddering through his body. Terror flooding down his cheeks. Anguish clawing out of his mouth. 

“B-B-B-But I-I-I wwwwwasn’t there!” Tank shouted, startling the doves from their perches in a cacophony of whistles. 

“SSo I-I sh-shouldn’t f-feel this wwwway. I-I-I sh-shouldn’t b-b-be having these d-damn dreams and-and th-these th-thoughts and-and th-these ffffffeelings. B-B-B-But I-I-I am…I-I’m hurting, d-d-dad. And-And I-I-I d-don’t kn-kn-know wwwwhat t-t-to d-do.”

Tank crumbled, every tear they’d fought against and tore at and bit back since the Inversion finally breaking through. All the while, Gabe’s gravestone sat before them, providing them shade from the sun now glaring on the horizon.

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

DPxDC Prompt

Thinking back on it, Danny probably should have been more wary of being given the title ‘Ender Of Timelines’.