#pre-slash really

[asavt]

[ Your Truth. Your Lie ] (Comic Version.)

Hello hello! I come here to leave the little humble offering of the result of around three days of work (a little more if you take in count the fic version but aahhh....)

This has become an AU btw, not sure if I'll do the other parts since I still got to take care of my thesis and what not. But the other written parts are... in progress.

Anyways, here's the fic version too!

[geezmarty]

my dragon age ttrpg dwarf girlie and her team in modern fits 💅

[syrupfog]

AU where Sanji can’t go to college because his dad is way too rich for him to qualify for FAFSA, but Sanji’s estranged so he can’t go to him for financial assistance. 

He wanted food science. Still does, someday. But in the meantime he works at Zeff’s restaurant. 

He meets Luffy because Luffy and Ace are notorious dine n’ dashers, and the Baratie is about the only place that doesn’t ban them, because Zeff’s secretly got too soft a heart, and because Luffy and Ace at least TRY to work their bills off, although they never last long.

Ace and Luffy drag him back to “their place”, which is a four person dorm room that’s technically home to Chopper, Usopp, Franky and Zoro. 

At six, it’s a squeeze. And it stinks. Sanji complains the whole time he’s there, forces them to open a window for godssake.

But he comes back every time they invite him. He brings food. 

He’d bring food anyway, but he noticed that Zoro’s clearly an athlete and he’s surviving on JUNK. Slim Jim’s and microwaved eggs and unseasoned chicken. Sanji’s disgusted, and he voices that disgust loudly.

He and Zoro get into arguments about it, but Zoro doesn’t complain when Sanji brings meals. 

Sanji’s also really satisfied when he sees Zoro eat everything without even attempting to turn it down with a “you shouldn’t have” or “I’ll leave some for someone else”.

He eats everything Sanji gives him, without comment, and Sanji gets a thrill from that. A bit because he can recognize someone else who also must have gone through food insecurity. 

Ace and Luffy also clearly have, but their trauma manifests in stealing right off his plate.

Which Sanji allows, of course. He’s a pushover. 

When the group of six come to the Baratie, plus two new people (Nami and Robin), Zeff initially turns them away because “I can’t afford for eight people to skip out on their bills you lunatics”. 

Nami pays for them in advance.

Sanji hears her telling Zoro she’s adding it to his bill. 

The few high school friends Sanji had disappeared off to college at the start of the semester, so he’s happy that he seems to be adopted into this group, right up until he comes to serve their table and hears Nami call the “meeting” to order. 

Sanji looks over her shoulder as he’s pouring waters and sees spread out call logs and texts and letters. Threats. Nami’s words go in one ear and out the other but Sanji hears the key; Vinsmoke. They come from Vinsmoke.

They’re all getting them, he realises. His hands shake as he listens. They’re being targeted, threatened. They don’t know why. 

HE knows why. 

How long has his dad known where he is? What he does, who he sees? 

He backs up. Gripping the jug in a vice grip. Runs for the kitchen.

He tells Patty to cover him because an emergency has come up, and he runs out the back. 

Runs for a long time. 

Just runs.

He stops responding to Ace and Luffy’s attempts to contact him. He can’t talk to them. He’s going to cause them trouble— HAS caused them trouble. They’re his friends. They didn’t know what they were signing up for. 

He calls off as many shifts as he can while still making rent

(which honestly isn’t a lot) and if Ace and Luffy show up he demands to be on dish duty. 

Zeff sees this, but he doesn’t say anything. Sanji’s grateful. And ashamed. 

He’d liked having friends. Liked that terribly crowded stinky dorm room.

It’s almost two months of hiding, although the texts from Ace and (especially) Luffy don’t stop coming. 

And then, one day, he gets a pounding on his door. 

Pulling it open, expecting a pissed of neighbor maybe, he finds— 

“Zoro?” 

Zoro looks at him flatly. “Come on,” he says.

“Uh,” says Sanji. “No?” 

Zoro grabs his wrist (when was the last time someone touched Sanji?) and veritably drags him out the door. 

“Shit, Mosshead, stop!” 

“No,” says Zoro. “We’re tired of you hiding.” 

“I’m not HIDING,” Sanji hisses, at least pulling the door closed behind him

“Yes you are,” Zoro says. “You think I don’t know hiding?” 

Sanji would be surprised if Zoro knew hiding. The man is nothing but bold. “How did you know where I live?” 

Zoro, dragging him down the stairs, says “Your old man told me.” 

“WHO?” 

“That cook. The grouch.”

“ZEFF?” 

“Stop shouting, dumbass.” 

Sanji fishmouths. “I can’t believe he told you,” he says eventually. 

“He’s not an idiot,” Zoro says. “He knew you were hiding for dumb reasons.” 

Sanji was hiding for legitimate reasons. He doesn’t say that.

Zoro drags him all the way out of the building and to an idling old van with painted windows. Oh, is he going to MURDER Sanji? 

He pulls open a back door and throws Sanji in. 

Sanji kicks him as he goes. Zoro curses at him. 

There are no seats in the back of the van.

There’s a lot of pillows. It smells like the dorm. There’s also several six sets of eyes staring down at him from where everyone else is apparently just chilling in the back of the van. 

“Uh,” Sanji says, from the floor. “Hey, guys?” 

Zoro jumps in and pulls the door closed.

The van is thrown into reverse and everyone curses at Ace. 

“Hey,” says Luffy. “You’re back!” 

“That was the plan,” Nami says. 

“Took you long enough,” Usopp says. He’s looking at Zoro though, not Sanji. 

“Couldn’t find his floor,” Zoro grunts. 

Sanji lives on the second floor.

“Uh,” says Sanji, still lying down. Shifting with the turns of the van. “Am I being kidnapped?” 

“That would piss off your dad, wouldn’t it?” Nami muses. “Especially if someone files a missing persons report and he gets dragged in.” 

Sanji gulps. They know he’s a Vinsmoke, then.

“I still say we just fight him,” Luffy says. 

“We’re not fighting an ADULT,” Usopp shrieks. 

“Usopp, buddy, we’re adults,” Ace says. 

“Except chopper! Chopper put your seatbelt on!” 

“It’s on!” 

Sanji’s spiralling. They know who his dad is. Do they want to blackmail Judge? Or—

“So we’re planning a party tonight and we want you to cook for us,” Luffy says. 

Sanji splutters. “Wh—“ 

“Yes, we were planning on driving to the store first before going back to the dorm,” Robin says. 

“Here.” Zoro throws a dirty piece of printer paper and a pen at him. “List.”

“You want me to… make a list.” 

Zoro settles back against the van wall, unfazed by the sharp turn. “Yeah.” 

“You guys want me to… cook for you.” 

“Duh,” says Luffy. 

“You don’t… care that my dad was sending you death threats? Or have you just not gotten to that part in this discussion?” 

Luffy laughs. Bright. Free. “Yeah that was annoying,” he says. “But my guy Jinbei’s on it! He used to work security.” 

“Uh… huh.” Sanji feels sceptical. It feels too easy. 

“Come on, cook,” Zoro says. “I don’t want to have to talk to your old man again. He’s mean.”

Sanji’s never had anyone refer to Zeff as his old man. He doesn’t want to object, though. “Is this not just… too much work? For just me?” 

“Oh, Franky says he can help with dinner if that’s what you’re worried about,” Luffy says. 

“SUPERRRRR.” 

“No,” Sanji shakes his head. “I mean like. I’m not worth all this trouble. You guys were getting threats just for KNOWING me. My dad’s…” 

“Just some bastard you happen to share blood with,” Zoro says, arms crossed. “Who gives a fuck? Chopper’s dad is a reindeer.” 

“He WORKS WITH REINDEER!” Chopper squeaks.

“Luffy’s grandpa has tried to get us arrested, like, ten times,” Usopp says. “It’s all good.” 

“Uh,” says Sanji. That doesn’t sound good. 

“Don’t worry, we can outrun him,” Luffy says sagely. 

“Plus he’s a bitch,” Ace yells from the front.

Sanji looks at the dirty piece of paper in his hands. There’s a boot print on it. He starts writing a list. “Fine,” he says. “But only because I don’t think you guys would leave me alone even if I tried.” 

“Obviously not,” Luffy says. “Zoro’s been moping for weeks.”

Sanji’s head snaps up to meet Zoro’s. 

Zoro shrugs. “I don’t like having to count macros,” he says. 

“Right,” Sanji agrees easily. “Makes sense.” 

He takes note that Zoro’s the one who talked to Zeff. Zoro’s the one who dragged him out. Zoro’s the one who eats everything Sanji gives him like it’s a gift from the gods. 

When they arrive at the store, haphazardly parked in the loading dock, Sanji follows Zoro out. 

He grabs onto Zoro’s sleeve. “You’re pushing the cart for me.” 

“Whatever,” Zoro scoffs.

He does, though. 

And he sits on the kitchen floor while Sanji prepares the food for this so called party. 

The party is the same group that’s always there in the dorm. Sanji finds out, when he’s done cooking, that they’re celebrating his return.

He cries in their bathroom, briefly. 

Then he sits next to Zoro and watches everyone make fools out of themselves as they fill him in on everything he’s missed. 

It’s good.

[princenotsocharming]

😴

[adhd-winterfalcon]

how the scene should’ve gone

derek: i will rip your throat out. with my teeth.

stiles: …that’s kinda hot, dude.

derek: *confused silence*

stiles: anyway. to deaton’s i guess.

(stiles literally does not care that he said that bc derek is hot that’s just a fact of life. and derek is sitting there like ‘what just happened’)

alternatively

derek: i will rip your throat out. with my teeth.

stiles: woah, kinky.

derek: *glares*

stiles: okay, okay, jeez. you have no sense of humor, dude.

derek: maybe you’re just not funny.

stiles:

[razzledazzletrassh]

no major fic updates just yet guys TAKE MY WOY OC I MADE LIKE. April of last year IM PLUGGING SOME INFO ABOUT THIS GUY IN THE TAGS.

I may also redesign her soon or something. Make her more bug-like with some stuff. I can cook guys let me cook !!!

[oopsbirdficced]

Lit By Flickering Lanterns

Rating: Gen

Fandom: Tolkien’s Silmarillion

Characters: Gaurandir (OC), Círdan

WARNINGS: none

–

Gaurandir has made many decisions, of late. He doesn't regret any of them, but sometimes he gets… overwhelmed. And also lost. A stranger's help might be just what he needs.

Written for Back to Middle Earth Month 2025 @spring-into-arda

[hp-fanfic-archive]

The Actual Worst Thing by fictionalcandie Pairing: James/Sirius Rating: T Word Count: 7k Just before James Potter starts his final year of Hogwarts, his blood-supremacist parents tell him they’ve arranged for his marriage—to Bellatrix Black. James is almost as upset about this as Sirius is.

[spilling-blood]

Speaking of trying to rework things without OCs and self inserts. What if I reworked my poly self insert modern mafia AU so someone could end up in a misunderstanding and get stabbed by a Nikolai who decides stabbing first and asking questions later is the *the move*.

[lesmisshippingshowdown]

Will fanworks which aren't overtly romantic but could be interpreted that way (in the vein of pre-slash) be accepted as poll-stealing fodder?

Absolutely! As long as the relationship tag’s there and you tag it #lmss steal and send it to us like “hey this is my poll-stealing fodder” it all counts :)

[pokimoko]

On Waxen Wings We Soar, In Spite of Inevitable Ends - A Baldur's Gate Fic

Written by pokimoko

Chapters: 1/1

Word Count: ~15.5K

Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Astarion & Karlach (Baldur's Gate), Astarion/Karlach (Baldur's Gate), (it's fairly ambigious; is it romantic? queerplatonic? platonic? yes), (the love and devotion is there regardless)

Characters: Karlach (Baldur's Gate), Astarion (Baldur's Gate)

Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Game: Baldur's Gate 3, Spoilers for Act 3 (Baldur's Gate 3), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, (in which a certain scene on a certain dock doesn't happen right at that very moment), POV Karlach (Baldur's Gate), Astarion as Player Character (Baldur's Gate), Vampire Spawn Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Astarion & Karlach Friendship (Baldur's Gate), Ambiguous Relationships, Queerplatonic Relationships, Non-Sexual Intimacy, No Smut, Location: Faerûn (Dungeons & Dragons), Dungeons & Dragons Game Mechanics, Road Trips, (minus the car), Canon-Typical Bag Packing Physics, (how are they fitting all that food and a whole tent into one bag? don't ask me), Polymorph Spell (Dungeons & Dragons), Animal Transformation, Corvid Token (Baldur's Gate), Birds, oh? my wisdom check engine light is on? well i'm sure it's nothing to worry about, (and yes i know that joke doesn't actually work in terms of d&d mechanics. shhh), Quest: Our Fiery Friend | Karlach's Companion Quest (Baldur's Gate), Karlach Needs a Hug (Baldur's Gate), Astarion Needs a Hug (Baldur's Gate), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Humor, Karlach-centric (Baldur's Gate), Astarion-centric (Baldur's Gate), Protective Karlach (Baldur's Gate), Protective Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Karlach Has Chronic Pain (Baldur's Gate), Dying Karlach (Baldur's Gate), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Character Study

Summary: With her engine breaking down, and little time left to live before she burns up completely, Karlach takes one last journey across Faerûn. And thanks to a little bit of magic, it's a journey she won't have to take alone.

[solstheimtxt]

Ok so on Wednesday I usually work 12pm to 8pm. It's been this way for weeks, bc the mid shift manager before me kept having issues getting to work/waking up etc

Tell me why I just got a text, 20 min before my shift of them going 😍✨️ teehee check your schedules

I close, which is fine. Im the main closing manager. But telling me on my way to work??? And then they took me off Tuesday, which is weekly inventory night. Which I HAVE to be there for since I'm one of TWO people who know how to count weekly inventory, so I have to go in ON MY DAY OFF to count the fucking inventory (which takes me abt 30 min tops), to barely make enough to cover the gas for the trip over & back (abt 50 miles round) like

[zehecatl]

i think a lot about Jak and Torn sparring

like, is my Torn bias speaking? yes. abso-fucking-lutely. but also he just- he has that vibe, you know, of someone who knows how to fight, who can take care of themselves, who could probably put Jak to the floor

because the thing is, with Jak, i doubt he was ever actually trained. he's all instinct, scrappy and dirty, and even without the back-up of Dark Jak, he's a fucking menace. and with Dark Jak, well- that's one dangerous fucking kid, you know?

but Torn would absolutely pick up on that, and play just as dirty, just as rough. Jak goes for the crotch, and Torn's gonna pull his head back by his hair. they'd be a horrible sight to witness, but it'd be a sight

and man, imagine how much Jak would appreciate it, even if he'd never admit it, to know there's someone who can, if not beat him, at least hold Dark Jak off. and i love that concept, adore it. let Torn put that kid to the ground, and let Jak learn how to breathe easy, when Torn pins him, because if you make someone a weapon, eventually they'll start to worry about hurting everyone around them

and if Jak can't learn to keep his edge turned away, at least Torn can put it away

[musclesandhammering]

Very valid but also consider: fic authors act like they don’t know how tf to tag stuff

this is for those who despair over seeing ships or tropes that make them uncomfortable while they do their little scrolly-scroll on ao3, acting like they aren’t responsible for their own internet experience

(alternatively, the back button also works)

[stervrucht]

@steddieangstyaugust Day 7: Moonlight

“Things don’t look so bad in the moonlight.”

Steve looks towards the source of the sound. His posture grows rigid against the cool metallic surface of his car. He didn’t expect to find anyone at the junkyard—much less at night. 

The moon is full and bright, and it draws long black shadows over the ground. In the distance, he can see the outline of a person, drawn against the black silhouettes of busted cars and pine trees.

His life has been pretty shit lately—ever since Nancy broke up with him, and he fell out of grace with Tommy. When he can’t sleep, he drives to the junkyard and parks his car there. Smashes some things if the mood strikes, or just smokes and thinks.

“I’m sorry?”

“That's what my uncle says anyway,” the figure replies. 

Steve can hear the crushing of gravel underfoot, and the dragging of metal.  A few seconds later a person comes into view. Steve recognizes him from school. It’s that guy, Eddie Munson, who Tommy buys weed from every now and then. He’s wearing a leather jacket, curly dark hair reaching just past his ears, and in one hand he holds a rusty old pipe that drags over the ground as he walks.

“When you feel like shit, sit under the moon and remember how insignificant you are. Things don’t seem so bad then,” Eddie elaborates. He throws the pipe down and the metallic sound zings until it dies out.

“Not really a reassuring thought.” Steve shoots back. He doesn’t know how to feel about Eddie. He and Tommy have given him shit a few times, and Steve isn’t sure how much of a grudge that cultured within the guy.

Eddie walks over to Steve and settles into the spot next to him. The car dips and Steve winces at the sound of the chain hanging off of Eddie’s jeans softly hitting the metal exterior.

Eddie digs through one of his pockets and pulls out a pack of smokes. He holds it up to Steve, who takes one, and waits for Eddie to offer him a light.

“It isn’t?” Eddie asks with a cigarette between his lips. He motions Steve closer and cups his hand. The soft clicking of a lighter fills the air between them. When Eddie pulls his hand away, the end of their cigarettes lights orange in a colorless world.

Steve takes the cigarette from his mouth. “It’s—” 

“Nihilistic?” Eddie finishes. He throws his head back and releases smoke into the bright night sky. It makes Steve think of stags in winter. 

“Not the word I would have chosen, but yeah.”

“Well, here’s the thing, darling. Optimism hurts like a bitch—apathy is where it’s at. Nothing ever disappoints that way.” Eddie speaks animatedly with large hand movements. The car dips with his movements and whenever he motions his hand too fast, the tip of his cigarette lights up brightly.

“I think it’s a little too late for apathy for me,” Steve mumbles.

“Never too late.” Eddie shrugs. 

They smoke in silence for a moment and Steve looks up at the moon. It’s big and bright and perfectly round. Maybe Eddie was right. Maybe in the grand scheme of things, a break-up wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. Who knows how long they still have on this planet before the moon comes crashing down on it? 

Maybe Steve is turning into a nihilist by proxy.

“You’re quite the cynic aren’t you?” Steve tells him instead.

Eddie shifts and Steve hears the metal of his chain drag. “Comes with the territory.” 

“The territory being…?”

“C’mon now Steve Harrington, don’t act like you’ve forgotten your cute little pet name for me.”

Steve takes an uneasy draw of smoke. “I’m not like that anymore.”

“Not to my face.”

“Listen, I’m sorry okay? I used to be a dick.”

It feels weird to admit it. Steve realizes now that Tommy and Carol brought out the worst in him. That the people he hurt—people like Eddie—didn’t deserve it. Not really. With everything he witnessed last year at the Byers Residence, Steve can probably add himself to the list of freaks. He does sleep with a nailbat under his bed after all.

Eddie smiles contently towards the sky. “Apology accepted."

They smoke in silence until their cigarettes are burned down to their stubs.

“You know what, Harrington? Maybe you’re not so bad—in the moonlight that is.” Eddie smiles at him, and in the cold white light of the moon, he looks a little softer—a little kinder maybe—than his usual gruff self. Steve feels something flutter in his chest. The barest hint of something fond.

“You should see me in daylight.” Steve quips back. The words are out of his mouth before he can consider his tone. That definitely sounded like flirting. 

Eddie winks at him. “Careful, I might just take you up on that.” 

[reinemichele]

The epic highs and lows of a new it-see song