#like that is not an overstatement i was obsessed

[yourcomputerr]

listening to starkid rn and its making me so emotional

[ame-to-ame]

My friends are so nice to me??? I love them???

[springgirlshowers]

You’re A Dream, A Burning Star

Summary: A small musician at a venue in Berlin catches Joosts eye, after speaking to her, neither would never expect the next few months to be so intense.

Pairing: Joost Klein x Fem!Reader

WC: 8016

CW: drinking, shitty boyfriends, kissing, yelling, arguing, actually proofread for once, tbh this whole fic is a rollercoaster of emotions…strap in

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON WHO REQUESTED THIS!!! this has probably been the most fun one to write n my longest fic yet, hope it breaks your heart and mends it all at the same time <3 *songfic heavily inspired by this evil ass song*

Sometimes while traveling, Joost would like to go out to smaller venues and watch other live shows of performers he’s never heard of.

The one he was going to tonight, he had already had a show booked there tomorrow night.

He just wanted to get an idea of what it would be like inside, sure he saw the photos of it, but he always preferred seeing things in real life.

The line up tonight was two opening acts, then the main one at a small venue and bar.

The first opening act was your name. He thought it was pretty. As he stood to the side, beer in hand. He watched you enter the stage, obviously nervous.

A pretty face to match a pretty name.

You talked kindly yet a bit frightened into the microphone. You were a bundle of nerves, apologizing for your awkward and nervous behavior, and explained that you were still getting used to these crowds.

He thought it was cute in a way, it reminded of himself when he was just starting out as well.

You talked to the crowd in between your songs. Asking how everyone was feeling and how their night was going, earning cheers from the crowd.

Joost watched as your eyes darted around the crowd as you sang, not in a way of you were trying to let everyone have your attention, but in a way of you were searching for someone.

Eventually your eyes gave up looking and you closed them instead, staring at the crowd for too long would make you even more nervous.

Joost felt like you casted a spell on him the way he couldn’t take his eyes off you. The way your lips moved as you sang sweetly into the mic, the way your hands moved so smoothly across the strings on your guitar, the way you swayed back and forth, how your eyes glistened in the light.

You had him in a trance.

After your short set was done, you exited the stage in such a polite manner. Thanking the crowd repeatedly before grabbing your guitar and case in an organized manner.

Joost would spend the next twenty minutes trying to find you. He knew it seemed a little weird to see you on stage and spend the rest of the night looking for you, like some obsessed fan.

But something in him was aching for him to talk to you.

When he found you, you were leaning against a back wall, watching the end of the second opening act.

Joost came up to you and suddenly he felt as nervous as you looked on stage.

You squinted your eyes at the blonde man for a split second. You had seen him from somewhere.

“I just wanted to say you did amazing on stage. It’s like you casted a spell on the crowd.” The validation made you smile.

“I’m not sure if they were really there for me, I was just the opening act.” You gave him a small shrug in response, too nervous to keep eye contact for long.

“A good amount of people seemed interested. Me included.” He nodded reassuringly.

“That’s very sweet of you to say, but I need to work on my stage presence, I’m moderately good at it.” You let out a nervous laugh.

“I wouldn’t say that.” He said blankly.

“What would you say then?” You questioned, tapping your fingers on your glass.

“I’d say you're exceptional.” A grin slowly took up your face, making your eyes shut and cheeks blush, you looked away.

“That’s a bit of overstatement. I messed up on my third song.” You shrugged, looking down at the cup in your hands. You’ve never gotten so many compliments in a single minute, in your mind you had to double down and keep yourself humbled.

“I didn’t even notice. I thought you sounded perfect.” He said blankly, unbothered.

“That’s very sweet of you…uh, you haven’t told me your name yet.”

“I’m Joost.” He looked puzzled as your jaw dropped, eyes lighting up.

“Now I know where I recognized you from! I’ve heard of you!” You pointed at him.

“You have?” Joost looked at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah, I heard your little song that you did with that guy with the goggles.” You giggled and made a gesture to your eyes.

You were so nice. Joost was praying that was the only song you heard by him and not any of his other popular ones with…suggestive lyrics.

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty popular isn’t it?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. God, you were so sweet. He didn’t want to mess this up.

You looked at your phone again, seeing if there were any new notifications for a text from your boyfriend. There was nothing. You let out a dissatisfied breath and turned it off.

“Are you alright? Are you waiting for someone?” Joost asked as you shoved your phone into your pocket.

“Uh, yeah. My boyfriend said he would show up tonight but I haven’t seen him. I’m wondering if he even bothered to show up at all.” You muttered your last sentence out, still looking around to see if he was there.

Joosts heart fell to his stomach. Of course a pretty girl like you would have a boyfriend. You were talented, kind, and gorgeous. Who wouldn’t fall in love with you?

He stayed silent, giving you a sympathetic frown.

“Anyways, is that why you’re here in Berlin? Your song?” You pipped, changing the subject in hopes to get rid of the knot in your stomach.

“How do you know I’m not from Berlin?” He teased, narrowing his eyes.

“You have a different accent. You pronounce words differently. Plus, we’re talking in Dutch. I’m guessing either you’re from Belgium or the Netherlands.” You shrugged.

“Netherlands.” He nodded, your eyes lit up.

“I knew it! I’ll be there in a few months actually!” You exclaimed happily.

“Really? For tour?”

“Oh not for that. It’ll be over by then.” You waved your hand. “A label in Amsterdam reached out to me and I think I’m gonna take the offer.”

“That’s amazing!” He exclaimed, his face filling up with joy, then he cleared his throat. “Is your boyfriend moving with you?”

Your happy expression faltered, looking down at your drink nervously.

“Um, well he doesn’t think he can. With work and all, but we’re just gonna do long distance.” You pipped, though you tried your best to put on a mask of happiness, the hesitation in your voice was obvious.

Before Joost could get a word out, a male voice was calling your name from the crowd.

A slender man appeared, black hair and tall but shorter than Joost. He ran over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

Speak of the devil Joost thought to himself, assuming this was your boyfriend with the way you looked at him.

“Hi sweetheart, I’m so sorry I got caught up with…stuff.” He attempted to give you a kiss on the lips, you accidentally moved your head in time for it to land on your cheek. “When do you go on?” He nodded to the stage.

“My set ended twenty minutes ago, Leon.” You said softly, the hurt and gloom prominent in your voice with your pouty face.

“Really? I thought you didn’t go on til later?” He said surprised, Joost could see through his act.

“I texted you the time I would be going on.” You trailed off, rubbing your arm for comfort.

“Are you sure? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you stranded.”

“It’s fine.” You said sadly, “I’ve already made a friend, this is Joost!” You gestured to Joost. Leon quickly took a protective stance, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close to him.

He was oblivious to the way you tensed up, Joost wasn’t however.

“Hi.” Joost gave a tight lipped smile, feeling the tension in the air.

“Joost makes music as well! He’s been doing it longer than me though.” You pipped, trying to continue on the conversation, slightly leaning away from Leon’s touch.

“Yeah, that’s great. I’m gonna go get a drink, do you wanna come with me?” Leon looked down at you.

“Oh, I’m fine right here. I already have one anyway.” You said happily, unbothered. Leon let out an annoyed breath.

“Why don’t you just come with me.” He spoke, more of a demand than a suggestion. You repeated your first previous sentence and shook your head. Leon removed his arm from around you, grabbing onto your upper arm with his hand, attempting to pull you with him.

“Come on, lets go.” He sounded like an angry father.

“I said I didn’t want to! I’m fine right here, Leon.” You shouted, wriggling your arm out of his grasp.

“Fine, whatever.” He muttered something else as he walked away. You rubbed your upper arm, ignoring the red fingerprints from how rough he was.

“He seems like a jerk.” The words were leaving Joosts mouth before he could realize. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be judging your relationship.” He blinked repeatedly and shook his head, as if he was trying to shake away what he said.

“No, it’s fine. He’s just a bit stubborn and short-tempered sometimes.” You sighed. “So what brought you to this place?” You changed the subject again, wanting to move on.

“Oh, um, I'm performing here tomorrow night, so I’m just getting an idea of what it’s like here tonight.” He shrugged.

“That’s so cool! Maybe I’ll show up and see you.” You suggested, Joost felt anxiety fill him up. His music was the complete opposite to yours.

“Oh no, you don’t have to, I don’t think you’d like mine. It doesn’t seem your style.”

“How do you know? I like trying new things.” You narrowed your eyes at him, playful look on your face.

“Fine. You know what, I’ll get you a backstage pass too so you’re not stuck with the sweaty crowd.”

“I’d like that a lot.” You laughed, the butterflies in Joosts stomach started fluttering again.

Noticing that Leon was taking a bit long to simply order a drink, you craned your head towards the bar, he wasn’t there. You pulled out your phone to text him.

Where’d you go??

Went back to my place. I got to work early tomorrow.

“What happened?” Joost asked, looking at the frown that appeared on your face.

“My boyfriend left. He was supposed to be my ride home.” You scoffed and shook your head in disbelief. “I’ll just take an uber or something, that’s how I got here.” You sighed.

“I could drive you.” Joost blurted out. “I’m not drunk at all, I promise. I’ll walk in a straight line if you need me to.” You chuckled at his offer.

“I’d really appreciate that. I’ll give you some money for the gas you waste on me.” You half jokingly said, already reaching for your wallet. Joost waved a dismissive hand.

“No, no. You don’t have to. You won’t be wasting anything. You can pay me back by showing up tomorrow.” He cut off your protests.

“Deal.” You smiled.

Joost made you let him hold your guitar case as you left the bar, he put it in the backseat of his car. He opened the door on the passengers side for you, which was much more than Leon ever did for you.

The drive to your house was awkward, a bit silent, the only noise being the robotic voice telling the directions to your place on the GPS.

When you reached the parking lot, before opening the door you stopped and turned towards Joost.

“Do you want my number?” Joost nearly choked on his spit at your question.

“W-what?” He sputtered out.

“Do you want my phone number? So you can text me when you’re going on.” You suggested, “Plus, I’d like to be friends too.” You nervously mumbled.

“Are we not already?”

“I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page.” You shrugged playfully. He grinned and grabbed his phone, opening messages and letting you type your number in, sending a text so you got the notification on your phone.

“Alright, sweet!” You said happily, stepping out the car, then leaning down a bit to look at him in the driver's seat.

“Thank you, a lot. For being so nice to me tonight.” You said, eyes looking around nervously.

“Yeah, yeah of course. You deserve it.” He praised, your cheeks went red and you looked down. He was giving you all the validation no one really ever did. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, Joost.” You smiled and closed the door, waving at him as you walked to your apartment. Joost waited until he saw you enter your place and knew you were safe inside.

He couldn’t wait for tomorrow night.

You were definitely surprised by Joosts music style. You’d only heard one song of his in the past so you didn’t really know what the rest of his would be like.

It was strange seeing him out there, drinking beer on stage and moving around and singing like a madman as you watched from the side. Was this the same sweet guy you were talking to last night?

You didn’t mind however. His songs were catchy and you liked how he didn’t care about how crazy his stage presence was.

It was funny how you both caught your audience's eyes in different ways.

Joosts music was very hyper, fast, danceable. A microphone and a good DJ was what he used. It got the crowd jumping and chanting with him as he ran around on stage.

While yours was the complete opposite. Your music was a bit smoother, softer, flowy. You had your guitar and a sweet voice. The crowd swayed and mouthed along while you sang and stood on stage.

Joost exited the stage after lots of applause and repeated thank yous.

You felt a bit jealous of Joost, he had a bigger and definitely more interacting crowd than yours. You were grateful for what you got, but there was a small wanting inside you for one like his. Interested and excited. You knew it probably took a while for him to get here, as it does with all artists.

Hopefully one day you’d get a crowd as loud as his.

He ran right up to you, covered in a layer of sweat and chest heaving.

“What’d you think?” He asked, still catching his breath.

“I liked it, I think.” You both laughed. “It’s very…loud. Very crazy. But that’s a good thing, you know how to keep everyone entertained.” You complimented him, it was his turn to blush.

“Crazy. I like that.” He nodded proudly.

You walked over together to an empty spot behind the stage. A fold up table, a cooler of beer and different canned drinks sitting next to you.

“Do you want a beer?” Joost offered, you shook your head, telling him you already had a few.

“Well I’m gonna have more.” He laughed and pulled one out the cooler.

“Did it take you a while to get this big? Like with your career?” You spoke out, he looked at you confused.

“Well, kinda. I already had a small social media following before I started making music. So that helped.” He shrugged, taking a sip. “Why do you ask? Are you worried about yours?” It was like he could read your mind.

“Yeah, a bit.” You looked down at your feet. “I’m just scared I’m never gonna get where I want to be. Like I won’t be good enough for this stuff.” You frowned, Joost did too. He set his beer down on the table behind you.

“Hey, don’t say that.” He spoke softly, he brought his hand up to your chin, lifting it with a hooked finger for you to look at him. You breath hitched at the sudden gentle contact.

“You’re good enough. More than good enough. Exceptional. Remember?” You rolled your eyes at his words, he moved his hands to cup your face. “I’m serious! You’ve got an amazing voice. You’re gorgeous, talented, and kind. That’s the type of musician that this world needs.” His words made you smile and blush uncontrollably.

You muttered a small agreement and looked at each other. His eyes were so beautiful, though they were hidden behind his glasses, you could see the gorgeous shade of pale blue they were. It felt hypnotic.

Before you knew it, he was pulling your face to his, kissing you. You were caught off guard, still for a minute. Then you relaxed.

For a moment you pushed back into the kiss. Finding comfort in his lips against yours and his hands holding your face, you rubbed your hands up his chest as you kissed him back. Mouths parting and eloping each other's lips so passionately.

This was wrong. As you draped your arms around his neck Joost knew it was wrong. You had a boyfriend and he kissed you anyways. He couldn’t help it. You were so soft against him. You kissed back. It was pleasurable for the both of you, but it wasn’t right.

Then realization set in of what you were doing, you quickly pulled away.

You looked at each other, both a bit shocked and breathless.

“Oh…Joost. You’re very sweet but I already have someone. You know that.” You admitted as you let out a nervous breathy laugh.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I got a bit ahead of myself.” He quickly apologized.

“It’s okay. We’re both just drunk and being silly.” You giggled and shook your head.

Joost felt the opposite. He didn’t feel drunk at all, he didn't feel silly. He wanted to do that. Maybe it was a little impulsive, but he wanted to kiss you.

“Yeah, my adrenaline got too high. It was just a..” He let out an embarrassed laugh now too. Looking away and running hand through his already messy hair.

“Heat of the moment type of thing?” Your words were meant to sound like a statement, it ended up sounding like more of a question.

You were both lying. Neither of you were drunk. You both enjoyed it. You both wanted to do it. You both meant to do it. Just guilt and embarrassment got in the way.

“God, I'm sorry. W-we can just act like this never happened.” Joost told you, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Yeah, yeah, we can…” You trailed off, you still hadn’t moved your arms. He caught the way you were still gazing at him, eyes flickering to his lips once again.

You cleared your throat and removed your arms from him, crossing them awkwardly.

“Uh, do you need another ride home tonight?”

“Leon’s picking me up, he should be here soon actually.” You shook your head, the guilt starting to become obvious on your face. “I think I’ll just wait outside for him.” You quietly moved past him, looking at the floor.

“I can wait outside with you, for your safety.” He gulped. You turned to him, the corners of your lips slightly curling.

“Are you trying to be my guard dog now?” You joked.

“You could say that, plus I need my after-show smoke.” He shrugged, you scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully. Then waving a hand for him to come along.

As the night got darker the weather got colder, you stood outside the front entrance of the bar as you waited next to Joost. You took in a shaky breath as another cool gust of wind hit. Crossing your arms over each other, feeling the goosebumps.

“Are you cold?” Joost noticed, tilting his head.

“Just a bit.” You tried your best to act unbothered by the wind and what happened a few minutes ago. Joost took off his zip up jacket without a word, holding it out to you.

“No, no, you keep it. I don’t need it.” You waved a dismissive hand. Joost sighed.

“You’re shivering.” He raised his eyebrows at you. You shook your head once again. “Please. I'm still warm from the performance, I'll be fine.” He reassured you, you gave in, taking it and putting it on.

The jacket smelled slightly of cigarettes covered up by fruity cologne. It smelt like him. You felt so comfortable in it then any other clothes you’ve worn.

Joost finally lit his cigarette that had been hanging from his mouth, praying the taste of tobacco would overpower the taste of you in his mouth. It did, somewhat. The taste was still lingering on his tongue.

He made sure to blow smoke in the opposite direction of you, where the wind was going so you wouldn’t get a cloud of tobacco in your face.

You zipped the jacket up as you continued to wait, rubbing your fingers over the rhinestone skull design on it. Smiling.

Leon’s familiar car soon rolled up, parking by the sidewalk.

“You were really great tonight. You were amazing. Exceptional.” You told Joost as you started to slowly move towards your boyfriend's car.

“Thank you.” He was grinning ear to ear.

“Night Joost.” You gave him that signature sweet smile of yours that made him want to melt onto the concrete. He nodded his head and waved as you stepped in the car.

Leon pretended to not see Joost, even though Leon was staring daggers at him. He said nothing to you once you got in until you stopped at the first intersection.

“Any good acts tonight?” He spoke, turning on the right turn signal.

“Oh, yeah. Great ones.”

“That’s great baby, when did you get that jacket?” He took a quick look at your clothes. You looked down, eyes widening for a second.

You were still wearing Joosts jacket. You were wearing another man’s clothes in your boyfriend's car.

“I just found it in the back of my closet the other day.” You shrugged, acting oblivious.

Trying your best to tell yourself it really wasn’t that big of a deal, Joost only gave you his jacket because you were very obviously cold.

It meant nothing. If he hadn’t kissed you, maybe it would’ve meant nothing.

Leon let out a small hum, turning on the radio and saying nothing for the rest of the drive home.

You ended up not seeing Joost for the next four months. You kept in contact over text and one phone call. But you never saw each other in person after that. You never returned his jacket.

For those four months, there was a strange constant yearning, some ache in your chest. You weren’t sure exactly what. Maybe you did know, but just didn’t want to admit it. You convinced yourself it was Leon who you missed, not the other idea you were scared to admit.

Joost had that ache of yearning as well, he knew exactly what. You. He wanted to hear your laugh again, your singing, your voice. He wanted to see your smile, how your cheeks began to ball and blush and how your eyes squinted every time you began to grin.

God, he wanted nothing more but to see you again.

Once you were all settled in your new apartment, with barely any help from Leon, you began to book performances at local bars as you used to do back in Berlin.

Leon promised you he’d be in Amsterdam tonight, he promised he’d be on time and watch your show.

You peeked at the crowd a few minutes before you went on. Looking all over for him, even just a glimpse of him would make you happy. Glad he made it for once. There was no sign.

You pulled out your phone, texting him.

hey where are you??

i go on in like five minutes

are you running late??

A minute before set you got a response, you quickly checked your phone, an instagram notification.

But not from Leon, from Joost. He’d sent a photo. Just as you were about to see what it was, your name was being announced and you had to go on.

The crowd swayed and nodded along to your music. It was nice, you didn’t mind the peaceful crowd, it was what you were aiming for nowadays.

In the middle of one of your shorter songs, you once again started to look around for Leon. You spotted a taller, blonde, man wearing glasses, and hovering over the rest of the crowd with his height.

Joost.

You never told him directly where you were performing, he must’ve seen your name on the list of performers.

You began to smile and giggled for a moment into the mic. That smile and laugh he’s been waiting for what felt like forever to hear again, it made him feel ten times better than he already was.

After several thanks to the audience and putting away your things backstage, you checked your phone once again for any texts from Leon. Still nothing, he hadn’t even read your messages.

You walked out backstage and back into the bar area disappointedly until you saw Joost standing and waiting for you. Two drinks in his hands.

A smile lit up both your faces as you saw each other, yours was weaker than his however, still upset of Leon not showing up.

“Hey! I got you a drink, your mouth is probably pretty dry after all that singing.” He said happily, holding out the drink that was for you.

“Oh God, thank you. I was just about to get one of these.” You grinned as you took your drink from his hand, taking a sip from your straw and letting out a breath of satisfaction at the taste.

“I remember you said that was your favorite, so..” He shrugged and tilted his head as he smiled again. You hoped the dim light in the bar hid the blush taking over your cheeks, he remembered it was your favorite.

That only led you to another saddening thought. Joost remembered more about you than Leon did. He knew your favorite color, favorite drinks, favorite scents, favorite movies, favorite songs of his and yours. If you asked Leon to name any of those, he’d most likely just stare at you and stutter, not knowing.

The problem wasn’t Joost knowing your favorite things and Leon not. It was the fact that Joost remembered. Joost always remembered the times you told him you’d be going on at, or the places you were going to tour, the stories you told, or even the small little details you had in your conversations, that he would bring up in other conversations.

You couldn’t recall a time where you didn’t have to remind Leon multiple times you had a show and giving him the exact address to where it was, just for him to end up there ten or more minutes after your set, or not show up at all. Leon would never buy you your favorite drinks, or even buy you drinks, or buy you flowers, or take you out on dates.

Maybe it was wrong to compare the two men, they both had different lifestyles. But you’d known Joost for just a few months, much less time than Leon, and yet Joost still treated you better than your own boyfriend.

Because he remembered. He actually listened to you.

“You alright?” Joosts voice brought you out of your thoughts, “You looked really sad for a minute there.”

“Oh, uh yeah, I’m alright.” You waved a dismissive hand, put on your best unbothered expression. It was a weak one.

“You’re not a very good liar. I know somethings bothering you.” He teased, you looked down, deciding if you should try to lie more or tell him the truth, “Did Leon not show up?”

You kept your eyes on the ground and nodded, giving him a sad smile. He let out a coo of sympathy. It made the problem worse since Joost already knew what was wrong, he could read you like a book.

You took in a shaky breath when you tried to speak, you shut your eyes, hoping for the tears building up to subside. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry in front of Joost, you didn’t want him to see you like that.

“It’s just been so long since I’ve seen him in person, and he promised he’d be here on time tonight. He won’t answer my texts again, I don’t see him anywhere.” You gestured a weak hand to the bar, no signs of your boyfriend being anywhere in there. Joost made a gloomy face as a few stray tears fell from your eyes, he wanted nothing more to hold you in this moment.

“And he promised to take me to that restaurant I keep talking about afterwards and…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “God, I feel so stupid crying about this.” You looked to the side, wiping the tears away, only for them to be followed by more.

“Hey. You’re not stupid, you were excited about tonight, I’d be disappointed too if a date night like that got canceled. You know, I’d say he’s the stupid one for missing out on a night with you.” Joost leaned in, making you let out a weak laugh.

“Yeah, he’s the stupid one.” You sniffled and let out a weak laugh as you patted your eyes. “None of my makeup is smudged right?”

“No, wait actually, there’s like a small streak right here.” He pointed to a spot under his eye, attempting to give you a visual representation of where it was.

You attempted to wipe it away, missing completely. Looking at him for clarification that you got it.

“Uh, no it’s- here, just let me…” He trailed off as he brought his thumb to the mascara streak, gently smudging the stain away.

It was such a simple act of kindness, yet something about it felt so loving, so intimate.

After a few seconds of insanely intense eye contact, Joost cleared his throat and rubbed his hands.

“There. Oh, do you need a ride home tonight?”

“How many drinks have you had?” You half-joked.

“Just this one.” He held up his beer, you narrowed your eyes at him teasingly, which told him you knew he was lying.

“Okay I had another before this, but I’m barely even tipsy.” He held up his hands in defense.

“Fine.” You gave him a teasing smile.

The drive home was quiet as always. Yet there was no awkward tension between the both of you, just a comfortable silence.

Joost offered to walk you to your door for safety reasons of course, you would’ve said he didn’t need to, but he seemed adamant about it.

You let him walk you to the start of the steps instead.

Joost looked at you while you looked at your feet in perfect rhythm, both small smiles on your faces. While looking down, you didn’t realize that your boyfriend was watching from your window, a scowl on his face.

You stopped at the foot of the stairs, finally looking up at the blonde boy next to you.

“I think I’ll be okay from here. Thanks for the ride.”

“Yeah, any time. If you ever need something you can call me.” Joost fidgeted with his thumbs, a nervous habit of his that you noticed and found cute in a way.

Both your eyes flickered to one another’s lips, a secret aching to close that gap between them. You took in a deep breath, coming back to the present moment.

“I’m gonna take a shower and go to bed. I’ll see you later.” You waved and made your way up the stairs, barely halfway up the stairs he called out your name. You turned with raised brows, a bit confused.

“Um, I just wanted to say…goodnight, Y/N.” Joost gulped, that’s not what he wanted to say.

“Goodnight, Joost.” You said softly, before both headed in the opposite directions.

You unlocked your door with that same feeling of butterflies in your stomach, only for them to go away and be replaced with a tight knot when you saw Leon leaning annoyed against your kitchen counter, a single lamp on in the entire place.

“Leon? What are you-“

“What were you doing with him?” He cut you off, standing up straight.

“What?”

“Don’t act dumb. That fucker you met from the bar, John.” Your eyebrows creased together, confused at the name, then realizing he got it wrong.

“Joost?”

“I didn’t ask for you to correct me. Just tell me why you were with him.” He put his hands on his hips, a defensive stance.

“He was giving me a ride home, since somebody decided to not pick up their phone.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I had a few work calls I needed to make.” He shrugged, unbothered as he told that shitty excuse he always made.

“Yeah. Of course. Work.” You muttered, turning your back to him to take your jacket off.

“Don’t avoid this, you’re always running around with Joost. Have you been messing around with him?”

“No!” You raised your voice, tone filled with disbelief at the fact he would accuse you of cheating.

“Then why are you constantly hanging around him? I see the way you fucking smile and bat your eyes at him.” He pointed a threatening finger.

“Because it feels like he cares about me more than you!” You snapped.

“Bullshit.” Leon scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“It’s not bullshit, it’s the truth. Joost has shown up to more shows of mine than you have! He's always the one who makes sure I get home safe! He’s done a lot more than you ever have.” You lazily gestured at the man in front of you.

“Then why don’t you go fucking go date him! If you love him so much!” Leon threw his arms up in the air.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” You huffed, “I’m saying it’s unbelievable that a complete stranger I met at a bar has taken better care of me than you.”

“Bullshit, I’ve taken care of you.”

“When? Tell me a time!” You shouted at him, waiting a second for a response. Nothing.

“You’ve never given me a jacket when I’ve told you I’m cold, you barely ever take me out on dates, you’ve left me at the bar and made me walk home alone in the dark several times, you’ve never waited for me after a show!” You continued on with your rant “You’ve rarely even shown up to any of my shows!” You threw your arms in the air as your voice grew louder.

“I’ve told you before I get busy!” Another meaningless excuse.

“Busy with what? You’ve never given me a clear answer! It’s always just work! Yet there's never a clear reason! Why can’t you just take some time out of your day to come and see me? You didn’t even come tonight! And you’re in the goddamn country!” You were nearly screaming at him.

“Because you act like I could give a shit about your dumb fucking shows! You think I wanted to travel seven hours to see one of your boring sets?” He yelled at you, voice full of disgust.

You moved your head back in shock, jaw ajar and trembling as you tried to find the words. He shook his head and looked away, as if he was disappointed that you were upset.

“If you didn’t wanna see me, then why’d you even bother traveling here?” You stared at him with watering eyes, if looks could kill, he’d be dead on the floor. “You know what, if you don’t wanna see me, you can just get out.” You spat out, embarrassing angry tears starting to stream down your face.

“What?” Leon quickly whipped his gaze back to yours.

“Get out of my apartment! Get out! Get the fuck out!” You were shouting at him and pushing at him repeatedly, all the way into the hallway. He stumbled out.

You didn’t really know where all this rage came from, maybe it was the pent up frustration and anger from all the previous months, all the missed shows and ignored messages.

“You know what, fuck you! We’re over!” He pointed a defensive finger at you.

“We are over, asshole!” You yelled back at him, confused when you saw, his jaw clench angrily as he looked behind you.

You turned your head to see what he was staring at, it was Joost. Standing there with his mouth ajar and surprised eyes. Your face dropped.

Joost was shocked, standing there frozen. It was shocking to hear your usually soft and sweet spoken voice shouting and screaming curses at the man, watching your gentle hands shoving Leon harshly into the hallway.

Leon marched past you, muttering something and hitting Joost with his shoulder as he pushed past him, turning the corner and disappearing.

You and Joost stared at each other. He watched as your face crinkled in sadness and you let out a sob before turning and walking back into your apartment.

You were embarrassed that Joost saw you in such an angry and vulnerable state.

Joost was planning to come back, to possibly make that confession he’s been wanting to admit for months.

Instead watched you scream at your now ex boyfriend and saw you cry. Yet he still jogged over to your door, stopping you from closing it.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked worriedly, tilting his chin down to try and make eye contact.

“I think you should go, Joost.” You couldn’t look him in the eyes, you stared at his shoes.

“You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

“I want to be.”

“But you don’t deserve-“

“Joost. Please just go home.” You begged, finally looking up at him with your teary eyes. “Please.”

Though your eyes were puffy, red, and mascara was smudged and stained down your pouty face. Joost still thought you were the most beautiful girl, the most beautiful thing to exist he’s ever seen.

“Okay.” He breathed out, the word barely audible with how soft he spoke.

You mumbled out a thank you and an apology before you shut the door, he heard the locks click and rubbed his hands down his face.

Joost felt horrible for you. He felt ashamed too, like it was his fault in some way. Seeing you in that moment, seeing you like that, all he wanted to do was hold you. Cradle you. Comfort you as you cried.

You wanted the same. Yet, you had no idea why you turned him away, why you isolated yourself tonight. Was that really what you needed? Or just what you wanted?

It was radio silence from you for the next two days. You holed yourself up in your apartment, smothering yourself in blankets and sleeping.

You didn’t know why you were taking the breakup so hard, you were unhappy in that relationship. You felt liberated now, but the harsh words Leon spat out at you hit you hard.

What made it worse was that Joost saw you in such an vulnerable moment. You just felt ashamed and embarrassed.

Joost was nervous, he had another gig tonight that you planned to go to, you said that you would go to it when you found out about it a few weeks ago.

You hadn’t answered his texts, the most you did was open the photo he sent from your last performance. It was a zoomed in photo of you standing behind the curtain, text over it saying:

i see u ^_^

It was silly enough to get a small smile out of you.

Though you said you would show up before, he couldn’t find your face in the crowd anyways. After his show, he texted you, asking you where you were. You gave him a short response:

I wasn’t able to show up tonight. I’m really sorry, I’ll make it there next time hopefully.

Joost frowned to himself, he couldn’t blame nor be mad at you for it. He knew breakups were a tough process, he’s already had his own in the past.

He wasn’t upset, but he wasn’t gonna let you continue to isolate yourself.

Joost rocked on his heels nervously after he knocked on your door, a bottle of wine and a few flowers in his hand.

He did another smell check on himself again, hoping the quick shower he took was enough to wash off the sweat from his show.

He heard the footsteps dragging closer to the other side of the door, a small pause before he heard the lock on the door click.

You opened the door as far as possible until the chain lock stopped it, a very sleepy and gloomy looking you appearing through the gap.

“Joost? What’re you doing here?” You asked tiredly, yawning after you spoke.

“I thought you’d want a small pick me up.” He gave a sympathetic smile, holding up the wine. You stared for a second then shut the door. His face dropped. At least he tried.

Another click and the door slowly opened fully. You leaned against the doorframe lazily. The tear stains on your cheeks were now fully prominent in the overhead lights of the hallway.

“Is that just for me to drink sad and all alone?” You joked, Joost really couldn’t tell if you were.

“Well, we could always share. I won’t pass on wine.” He shrugged. Then letting out a cough as he realized he had forgotten his other gift.

“Oh, I also grabbed these.” He held up the few flowers he had in his fist, “I picked these from the bushes outside, I hope you don't mind. I just didn’t want to show up with only alcohol.” He cleared his throat, the flowers were drooping slightly.

You let out a weak breathy laugh as you took the weak flowers from his hands carefully. You took in a deep breath before moving to the side, giving him a reassuring nod to come in.

You grabbed two glasses out as well as a corkscrew while Joost placed the bottle on the counter.

You both drank in silence for a few minutes, Joost nervously tapped his fingers against his glass.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so depressing.” You trailed off, rubbing the side of your face.

“It’s fine. I know the first week is always the worst.”

“Yeah. I feel like I should be happy, he was an…asshole.” You threw a hand up, letting it fall against the counter. “But I dedicated so much of my time to him, for so long, now it just feels like I…”

“Wasted it?” Joost finished your sentence. You nodded, eyes beginning to water again.

“All I ever wanted was just someone to just…just see me.” You breathed out. “Or just love me. God, I sound so pitiful.” You let out a sad laugh, a stray tear escaping from your eye.

“So many people love you.” He reached out his hand, gently holding yours, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Like who?” You said before taking another sip from your glass. Joost had already finished his.

Me. Joost wanted to say it so badly, but he didn’t know if it was the right way to say it. He didn’t know if it was the right time to admit it, he never knew when the right time

“More than you realize.” He gave you a reassuring smile, then reached behind with his empty hand feeling for the pack in his pockets. “Do you mind if I smoke?” He asked for your approval before pulling the pack out.

“Uh, no. You- we can just go out on the balcony.” You pointed to the sliding doors.

“You smoke?” He raised his brows at you, surprised a shy girl like you would pick up that habit.

“No. No. I just don’t want to send you out there alone. I’d rather not be alone here either.” You mumbled the last sentence out before getting up, moving to the doors, unlocking and sliding one to the side.

Sitting in the balcony chair opposite from yours, Joost lit his cigarette, trying his best to blow the puff of smoke that came out in the opposite direction from you.

The air was colder than ever now that it was the middle of January. You zipped up the jacket you were wearing. That same jacket Joost gave outside the venue all those months ago. He never realized you were wearing it until now.

He wondered how many times you’ve worn it since then.

And you never would tell him you’ve put it on more times then you could count, it had become an item of comfort.

“I’m sorry you had to see me in such an ugly moment. I never wanted you to see me like that.” You sighed out, rubbing your arms. He looked at you, eyebrows knitting together.

“It wasn’t ugly.” Joost spoke softly, smoke exhaling from his mouth. You smiled weakly, taking the compliment but not fully believing it.

“I don’t think anyone has been so kind to me. Not in the way you have.” You looked at him, sniffling. Joosts face fell soft, a sad sympathetic expression on his face.

“Nobody ever kissed me like you did.” You blurted out, mouth moving faster than your brain.

“Do you want me to do it again?” Joost was a bit surprised at his own words, the small amount of alcohol in his system being just enough to give him a confidence boost.

It gave you one as well.

You didn’t give him a verbal response, instead you closed that large space in between you and him. Quickly crashing your lips into his as you held the side of his face.

His mouth tasted of mint toothpaste and tobacco, the taste almost felt addicting.

You pulled away, both shocked by your sudden movement. Joost abandoned his cigarette, not even caring to stomp it out. He wrapped one arm around your back, the other carefully placed on the side of your face as he pulled you onto his lap and closed the gap between your lips.

Your mouths eloped each other, passionate and hungry for one another. Your hands were roaming all over both of your bodies, your hands moving to the back of his head and raking into his hair while his rubbed all around your waist, face, and back.

It was messy, so needy. Yet it wasn’t like any other kiss you’ve had, there was friction but it wasn’t because of the lust you both felt for one another.

It was fueled by love.

After a good moment of your lips being stuck together, you both pulled away, breathless, lips swollen, and amazed.

“This is so silly.” You looked down, giggling to yourself, then calming down and looking back up at him. “But I’m not drunk.” Your voice was breathless.

“I’m not drunk either, I wasn’t last time.” He stared into your eyes, looking like he was enchanted by you. He practically was.

“I wasn’t either.” You admitted, you’ve wanted to admit that for so long. That the first time he kissed you, when you kissed back, it wasn’t in the heat of the moment. It was what you wanted, it was what you wanted when you were sober.

“Is it too early to say I’m in love with you?” He chuckled, his hands still holding the sides of your face.

“It only took you four months, but I’m good with the time being now. You’re a good kisser.” You held your hands over his, your eyes watering not out of sadness, but joy.

You gave him one more kiss before wrapping yourself around him, hiding your grinning face in the crook of his neck.

This is where you stayed for most of the night, intertwined with each other in the moonlight.

Such a cliché scene, but this is both what you’ve been yearning for so so long. And now that ache in your chests is gone.

[homestead-akatsuka]

back with more joro :-)

in which the matsuno brothers try to figure out what the deal is with the one farmer that their mom's been comparing them to, in that nagging asian parenting way, and manage to come to a very inaccurate conclusion

my oso san-obsessed friend and i have been rambling about stuff like this (well, i have; they just entertain my thoughts which is very sweet of them to do) if there were ever a jorō introduction episode, i feel like this would be one of the few ways they end up seeing them for the first time haha.

the sextuplets would bicker about who goes in first to see if they can stop this mystery farmer from making such a good impression on their mother that she starts nagging at them again ('good impression' being a very big overstatement, as the only qualifiers are having a job and nothing else) before sacrificing kara

he ends up gone for like 5 hours and they all think he's dead and jorō drowned him and hid the body because they're back outside in the evening to work again. ichi gets sacrificed next just to see if kara's still alive and it turns out, the two of them have been hanging out and watching movies; jorō just left to tend to the farm again :-)

[shawnxstyles]

free session

DATE: AUGUST 8, 2023

summary: tom hurts himself a little at the gym, but luckily, you’re there to reassure him that everything’s fine. when he finally comes back, you decide to show him what a free session is all about.

request: yup!!

words: 7k

warnings: SMUT (slight praise kink, protected sex, dirty talking), language. this was a quick one

note: okay so i don’t do threesomes lmao, but i didn’t state that until after i got this request (this request is 8 months old i’m sorry). i chose to do tom, but i changed a lot, so i’m sorry if this isn’t even what you asked for at all… i hope someone likes it | NOT EDITED

gym!tom x trainer!reader

—

Tom had a steady routine; he went to the gym in the morning, ate, did his day plans or work, ate again, and then went to the gym at night again. Some people thought he was insane for going to the gym so much, but it felt like his second home. Mainly because the gym was his brother’s, Harry.

Harry and Tom were unbelievably close; out of all their siblings, they were definitely the tightest. Tom assisted Harry with renting, paperwork, and anything he needed for his little business, which wasn’t so little anymore. Once he got popular in town, Tom let his brother handle himself after all his constant nagging. Then Tom was off doing his own thing, worrying about his own life and job. It got consistent, tedious, and boring to say the least.

But on a random summer day when Harry called Tom to deliver the bad news, Tom regrets ever thinking that his simple routine was boring.

“Tom, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to find a new gym.”

“What? Harry, what are you talking about?” Tom drops his gym bag on the floor of his apartment, stopping short with Harry’s words. He presses the phone up to his ear, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip.

“I didn’t tell you before, but all my ��loyal” customers have fled to the new fitness center down the street. You know, the one by the café?”

“Yeah…”

“It’s only temporary. I need to refurbish and find some more sponsors, and then hopefully, I can reopen.”

Tom sighs slowly into the empty air of his home, looking up at the ceiling in distress.

“I was trying to figure out how to tell you—”

“It’s alright, Harry. I’m glad you told me now. I’ll just… find a new gym.”

“If you go to my competitor, I won’t blame you.”

Tom replies with a hefty laugh.

“It’ll only be temporary.”

So, that’s what Tom has been doing—going to his brother's competitor. However, it was only supposed to be for a few weeks. But it ended up being a few months. Tom’s adjusted to the new gym quite nicely. He likes the wide variety of machinery and how many options he has. When he first came in, he was using machines he’d never even seen before.

Even though his gym was switched up on him, Tom is a routine kind of guy. It only took him a week to adapt to his new environment and get comfortable with everything. He developed a new schedule for his morning workouts since he can no longer go to the gym in the evening. He wasn’t necessarily a morning person, but for the gym-induced high, he would do it.

He had a specific day for arms, legs, chest, back, shoulders—everything. Over the years, he’s done his research on the body, and even took anatomy in high school.

Did that even help him?

To say he’s gym-obsessed isn’t too much of an overstatement, even if Tom disagrees. He would say he’s obsessed with his dog, but not the gym. He refuses to put himself in the category of “gym-bros” and dumbasses that live off protein shakes. Yeah, he likes those shakes too, but he wouldn’t die if he had more than one cheat day in a week. Tom likes to live his life outside of the gym, unlike those people.

Tom worked an average job with a good salary, and relatively lived an average life with good people. He didn’t go out much because he didn’t have many people to hang out with besides his brothers. Harrison has been his best mate since high school, but with both of their work schedules colliding, it’s hard to find the time. Plus, he’s been way too busy planning his wedding.

Yeah, a wedding.

Tom’s not surprised by the fact that Harrison’s getting married. In fact, he’s not surprised at all. Of course he’s happy for his best friend. He’s just… envious in a subtle way. Both Tom and him are 28 years old, and while Harrison met the love of his life and is starting a future with her, Tom is yet to even date a girl for longer than a few weeks.

He’s been on dates here and there, even had a few one-night stands in the past year, but after some time, he just gave up completely. Sometimes, a girl will smile at him or look him up and down, but he doesn’t even try to pursue them like he used to. For the few times that he is out with his friends or brothers and a girl is all over him, he’ll take the opportunity and bring her home.

But it never goes farther than that. And Tom is afraid he’ll never have more than that.

Shaking off the terrible thoughts to start his morning, Tom walks through the glass doors of the gym. He passes the front desk and towards the clean machines that are practically calling his name. The barely rising sun can be seen through the huge window panes along the entire building, making the scene look peaceful.

There were a couple of bodies in the area, but besides the delicate music seeping through the speakers, it was quiet. To Tom, this was tranquil.

After a few simple stretches, Tom snatches the jump ropes. He jumps until his muscles are loose and warm and they’re just itching to be challenged. Today, he decided to do legs with an additional ab workout just because. He was a little extra energized, and he craved for his body to be sore. He doesn’t do this often, but he needs to change it up once in a while, right?

Tom goes straight towards the leg press, knowing that that machine will fire his legs up immediately. When he starts his reps, he already feels the burn. He knows today is going to push his limits, but he’s ready.

—

About halfway through his workout, he wants to give up. But he knows that’s exactly when you need to keep going.

He’s struggling with his squats, really trying to lift these three plates that are taunting him. He can do two easily, which means he has to add weight if he wants to actually gain and keep his muscles. He takes a deep breath before trying to squat for the second time. He slides the padded bar over his ready shoulders. The weight is dawning and plummeting his own body to the ground.

As he lowers his legs, squatting with the best of his abilities, his lower back aches immensely before he drops the bar onto the matted floor. The plates clang against each other in the relatively quiet gym

“Fuck,” he groans and chucks off his headphones, clutching his lower back near his tailbone. This is now the second time he’s failed, but the first time he’s felt this pain. It wasn’t a shooting, sharp pain, but it was aching enough to warn him that he was positioning himself wrongly.

“Are you okay?” A woman’s voice asks concerningly a few feet behind him. Tom turns around too quickly, making his back hurt a little more. He tries to hide his hiss behind clenched teeth when he sees you.

Your eyes were wide with worry and your head was slightly tilted. You were sporting a tight sports bra with matching shapely leggings. You had a towel dangling in your hand and a black shirt in the other. Maybe it was because of his small pain, but Tom couldn’t help dragging his eyes down your body in awe. He hisses at the sight unconsciously.

“I’m assuming that’s a no,” You squint your eyes with a slight tease as you walk up to him. Tom nods while also fixating in the present. He had a tendency to drift off into his head if his imagination wandered enough.

“Yeah, I think I hurt my bad a bit,” he smiles while trying to stretch by twisting left and right.

“Maybe I can help? If you’d like me to,” You offer as Tom stares at you. Your eyelashes are fluttering almost innocently, and Tom is beyond intrigued. He nods with a charming smile, one that you just had to reflect back. It was easily one of the most gorgeous smiles Tom has ever seen.

“Just so you know, I kind of work here. Well—I mean—I do work here. I’m just new,” You rambled. You were a bit nervous. You were a certified trainer, but you’ve never trained someone outside of your schooling. Yes, you’ve done family and friends, but not a stranger. A random stranger who actually needs your experience. You’re not sure how you landed a job at this seemingly high-end gym, but you never question the good things that happen anymore; you just let them happen.

“Good to know. Since you offered, I assume you know what you’re doing,” Tom teases and you roll your eyes playfully. He eased some of your nerves.

When you ask how he was squatting, he explains what he was doing and when and where the pain was occurring. You nodded along to his words, collecting all of it and connecting it to your knowledge. You come to a conclusion long before he’s done and gaze at his body. You know a lot about anatomy and you’ve seen a bunch of bodies throughout your life.

But staring at his ripped and sweaty body has you feeling all warm and tingly. The morning sunlight seems to shine perfectly over his perspiration, twinkling as a few drops slide between his rigid muscles.

“I think you strained your back,” You say simply without blinking right as he finished talking. You shake your head as if you weren’t just ogling his muscles. What is wrong with you? You were supposed to be a professional.

“Oh,” Tom finally says with a slight frown to his face.

“Does it hurt when you turn as well or just when squatting?”

“Mainly just squatting,” he answers.

“Okay,” You give him a once-over as if analyzing him. You were analyzing him, just not in a very professional way. There was nothing professional about how your eyes turned hungry as they gazed at his blessed figure. “The best thing to do is to not sit. Or stop what you’re doing basically. I would say no more squats for a while or anything that strikes pain. But don’t terminate all your exercise. That will actually make it worse.”

Tom nods along to all that you’re saying with understanding. Everything that you’re telling him makes perfect sense, so there was a good minute where he zoned out and just stared at you. Your matching set makes your skin look smooth and defines every curve of your body. The way your hands moved as you spoke had him mesmerized like he was under hypnosis.

“Got it?” You ask as a heat floods up your neck. Tom blinks rapidly and mumbles a yes, but he looks all too distracted. He didn’t hide well that he was staring at you, but he didn’t seem like he was trying to either.

“Is there anything else?” Tom questions as the air between you two gets tense, voice lower than before. Panting and echoing machines are all that are heard in the space around you. You swallow your sudden nervousness that was about to cough up a whine. You wondered if he wanted you to say something else.

Maybe he wanted you to confess. Confess something that you were both thinking, but you both didn’t know.

“N-No,” You slightly stutter out when you answer, smiling to try to cover this feeling that’s bubbling up inside of you.

“Well, I guess I’ll just do the treadmill before I head out.”

“Right. Sounds good. Have fun!” You ramble as he walks away, chuckling with each step he takes. You turn away and your smile instantly falls as you groan to yourself, “Have fun? Why did I say that?”

You run your hand over your face as you try to regain your lost pride. When you walk back into the coach’s area, you slip on your uniform shirt, so people are aware you actually work there. You take a deep breath and mentally slap yourself in the head for being so unprofessional. You barely just started working here and you’re already breaking rules! You’re not allowed to have relationships with your clients. Wait, that’s a rule, right? Now, that doesn’t make much sense…

But you know for certain that thinking about someone sexually after just meeting them, rule or not, client or not, it’s inappropriate. You’ve never looked at someone and just completely melted at the sight of them. You can’t stop picturing the way his leg muscles flexed as he carried the heavy weight of the squat bar. Or the way his cheeks reddened and hollowed out air as he pushed himself to stand up straight.

Although you watch and help people work out for a living, you’ve never found it entertaining. But for some reason, your mind is just so utterly fucked over by this random guy that you’ve never seen before. He looks like he’s been doing it a long time, especially with that figure. Has he been at this gym for a long time? He seems like he has.

Your mind likes to wander and wander as you do busy work and wait for the day to end. From your area, you weren’t able to see the front doors, so you never saw the stranger again that day. You assume he left soon after your departure, but you wish that you saw him just once more. Maybe you’d get the confidence to catch his name and even offer a session. Free of charge, you imagine yourself saying accidentally because you’d be so distracted.

Throughout your shift you helped a few people and even assisted in the group exercise class. Though, you loved when you had one on one trainings the most because you got to see your client grow their strengths and their weaknesses.

As your shift came to an end, you collected your bag with a heavy sigh. It was only the afternoon, but of course you didn’t have any plans. You had spent a year working to become a certified trainer, but brought no one with you along the way. You took a gap year when high school ended to try to figure out what you wanted to do, and then you discovered training and you felt comfortable. You had some friends, but none were strong enough to stay with you. It was really just you, with the occasional hangout with your older sister who lectured you sometimes.

You felt lonely sometimes, but it’s not like you really tried to fix it either. You went out every blue moon, waiting for some magical miracle to occur. Nothing sprouts; no love, sex, relationship, or friendship spawned at your feet when you’re out late at night in a bar or club. So, you kind of just stopped going. Was it sad to say you kind of lost hope in dating and sex?

Besides the point, when you entered your apartment, you were alone. Just like most days when you weren’t busy researching ways to start a business.

Oh, was that mentioned?

You wanted to start your own business with your certification. However, it was hard because you had little to no experience in business. Your dad knew good tips and tricks, but he wasn’t experienced enough either. And since you were quite lonely, you hadn’t made many connections to people that might have loads of talent in the field.

One day, you would actually talk to someone, you swore. And they would help make your dreams of a business come to life. It’s not that you didn’t believe in yourself to make it happen; it was more than a reasonable goal. It’s just that you’re so unmotivated right now because of your lack of connections.

Ugh, why does life have to be so difficult?

—

Tom wakes up early with groggy eyes and a sore back. He had done some research online last night on how to sleep with a strained back. He was told to lay on his side with a pillow stuffed between his knees. But of course when he woke up in the morning, his body was flailed across his mattress like an eagle, pillows completely disregarded from him.

When he tried to sit up too quickly, a sharp pain erupted in his back, making him sit right back in the bed. Maybe he should just take his time like the woman at the gym said…

You were slightly disappointed you didn’t see the good-looking stranger again on your shift. You shamelessly glanced around the machinery, hoping to recognize his bulky shoulders and defined muscles, but they were nowhere to be found.

You got to see a few good bodies, but there was something about that stranger that just made your insides tingle.

Again, so unprofessional. This is why you can’t start a damn business!

—

Tom didn’t go to the gym for a week. A week!

His back was just in too much pain and lifting heavy weights sounded tortuous. He still went to work and went on evening walks with his dog, but he felt pretty lazy. He forced himself to take a week off of the gym to heal, and thankfully it worked. His mind kept lingering to the pretty woman who talked to him, but he kept excusing it with his pain. He must only be thinking of you because you gave advice he needs to remember, right?

By the next week, Tom was already back in the gym. He walked through those glass doors again, quickly checked in, and headed towards the machinery. He moved slowly as his eyes subconsciously tried to find you again. Tom had this… need to tell you that he’s okay and that your advice worked. Again, it was just an excuse, so he could talk to you again. Maybe he would see your name tag this time, or just ask for it blatantly.

He makes a quick once-over of the area, and is a bit disappointed when he doesn’t see you lingering. He goes straight towards the jump rope to refresh his muscles that have been resting for one of the longest times since high school.

Tom jumps and jumps and jumps… and then nearly falls over when he sees you turn around after doing a squat. The curve of your ass in those leggings made his mouth water and your charming smile made him crazy.

Before he knows it, you’re approaching him while he’s completely phased.

“Hey, I see that you made it back. How is your… back?” You ask, squeezing the towel in your hand with an intense grip. Your heart started fluttering a little from just the sight of him, and you wondered why you were getting so worked up over a stranger.

“It’s all good now! I think,” Tom chuckles while rubbing his neck. He nervously twists the rope between his fingers, trying to think of a way to keep the conversation going. “I, uh, never caught your name.”

Your heart skips a beat and a smile threatens to take over your face. It was such a little thing, but you’ve been wondering what his name was for the past week. A name to a face to fit your fantasies.

“Y/N,” You smile, but your eyes struggle to meet his face. He was just so gorgeous you felt like you might be blinded if you looked too long. “And you?”

“Tom,” he surely answered with a nod.

“That fits you very well.”

“What do you mean?” he questions and your eyes go a little wide. You hadn’t meant to say that. It sounds creepy and weird; to say that his name fits him… as if you were thinking about him.

“Well—like—I was wondering what your name was when I first talked to you and now that you said it, it makes sense. Not that I was thinking about you all week or something… that’s just creepy!” You awkwardly laugh after your ramble, thinking of the fastest way to leave this conversation so you can regroup. This is why your dating life is so shallow. You can’t hold a conversation for a second without rambling out nonsense or making a fool of yourself. It’s typical, really.

You thought he was going to laugh at you like a bully and walk away from your weirdness. But instead, he softly chuckles at your antics while staring at your face. Noticing that he’s still standing in front of you, you slowly drag your eyes up his body until you finally meet his eyes.

They’re that perfectly golden brown color that looks like oozing honey when reflected off the sun. Since you were only a foot away, you could see his nose was a little crooked and he had an uneven eyebrow. His hair seemed a bit unruly, but all you wanted to do was run your hands through it.

“I’ve been wondering what your name was, too,” he finally admits when the air around you feels like it’s closing in. Your heart was beating as if something was going to happen, but you knew nothing would. Nothing was going to happen in front of all of these people.

“Really?”

“Mhm,” Tom hums as he watches your pupils dilate and eyes struggle to look at him. He’s been thinking about you all week, he can admit that, but now you can’t even look at him? He wanted to see your pretty eyes. “I’ve been wondering about a few other things as well.”

“Oh? Like what?” Your voice was slightly breathless and you felt the need to check over your shoulder every second. You felt like you were breaking some rule and you were able to be fired on the spot. It felt so wrong, but you wanted to see where this goes. You were all too intrigued by this glorious man before you.

“Like why you can’t look at me.”

“What? I’m looking at you!”

“Not longer than a blink.”

“S-So? Do you want to have a staring contest or something?” You bite your tongue when you stutter.

“Maybe. I just want to see your pretty eyes,” Tom didn’t plan on calling your eyes pretty right off the bat, but his bluntness is what made you finally look up at him. He saw innocence as well as desire laced within your irises. And he wondered if you really had been thinking about him all week. If you had, that would confirm that you want more. It would confirm that Tom isn’t crazy, and that there is some type of spark in between you too.

Will a one-time thing, like sex, dull the craving spark, or ignite it?

“We can’t here,” You say barely above a whisper.

“Do what? A staring contest?” Tom begins to smirk causing you to groan. He’s got to be one of the cockiest people you’ve ever met, but he has every right to be. Usually, you hate men that know they’re attractive because their cockiness just makes them an asshole. But Tom is the funny type, who pretends to be cocky, but he’s actually really humble.

How did you get all of that from only two conversations with him? And they were barely conversations!

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t, actually. Care to tell?”

“You want…” You can see the way he tries to hide his growing smirk and it tells you all you needed to know. The air thickened between you both, heavy with tension and heat. Your heart was racing and your stomach burned in a way that pushed your courage over the edge. You’ve needed something like this for a long time, you just never knew how long you actually needed it. “You want me to give you a session!”

Tom clicked his tongue at your teasing, slightly chuckling. You blinked your eyes as you flashed your fraud innocence at him.

“What does the session include?” His voice was low and deep. There was a certain rumble in his tone that made your legs feel like jelly and your mind go blank.

“I-I can show you. Let’s go in the back,” You try to remain as playful as possible, but you were absolutely losing it. You just wanted him to take control and kiss you as hard as possible; to do the unimaginable. Of course, the horniest you’ve ever been in your whole life is at work of all places. There’s no way there isn’t a rule about having sex in the gym. You’re sure people have done it before, but never employees. That had to have been prohibited.

But your desire is taking control of all your actions right now as you lead Tom through the gym and into your miniature office. Since you were relatively new, your office was in the back of the gym in a little room. The other offices for the more experienced trainers were near the front and were wide open to the public. You didn’t like how your space was so far away from everything because it made you feel disconnected, but right now, you’ve never been more grateful.

As you guide him into your office, you shut the door and push in the lock. You had a small wooden desk with a single picture frame and a laptop. A few different papers lie across, but you’re quick to stack them and slot them in the first drawer. When you stand back up, Tom is closer to you than ever, hovering right over you.

Your heart rate increases exponentially as his hungry eyes pierce your soul. Your impulses want to rip his shirt dramatically off of his torso, so you can run your hands all along his sweaty, ripped stomach. You’d make sure to kiss every centimeter of skin before landing on your knees for him. You’re almost positive you’d do anything he’d ask. Before you can even blink, he’s leaning in, cutting the distance and inching closer to your weekly fantasy.

“So what do I get?” His voice was breathy as his eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips. You couldn’t help but do the same.

“Anything. Anything you want,” You respond way too quickly, your desperation spilling out from you. Out of instinct, you took a step back from him, making your back bump into the wall. He was crowding your space as much as he could without actually touching you. And it was utterly killing you.

“What a generous trainer,” he placed his hand delicately on the wall next to your head. “Do you do this with all of your clients?”

“Only the fittest,” Your lustfulness made you brutally honest as if you had chugged truth serum. “But no, I’ve never… brought anyone back here before.”

“The first and the fittest. I might just have to book a session.”

“Luckily, a spot just opened. You can have it,” Your eyes meet him again. The second he sees your eyelashes flutter up, there’s nothing stopping him from kissing you. Not the tension, not the voices in his head, not the fear of someone knocking on the door asking for you.

Tom’s lips crash against yours in an eager kiss, lips melting together from the heat you’ve built up. It’s sweet and it’s salty, but it’s fulfilling that nagging ache you’ve wanted cured all week long. Your hands immediately find their way to his luscious curls, lacing your fingers through them just like you imagined. His rough-textured hand cups your jaw, angling you directing into his mouth when he slots a bit of his tongue inside.

His body presses forward against yours, rock-hard, stiff, and hot. The feeling of his heaviness and warmth was even better than you had conjured up in your crazy, little head. His rhythm was easy to rock with, and your body gravitated towards his. You whimpered into his mouth when his growing bulge poked the bottom of your tummy. Tom took that as a sign and popped off of your mouth. He trailed his wondrous mouth down your pulsing neck, causing you to stab your teeth into your lip to keep quiet.

Tom kissed and nibbled your skin without a care of who might see the marks. He didn’t know what would happen after all of this, but he wanted you to have at least one memory when it was all over. When reached your collarbone, he forced himself off of you.

“What do you want?” he grumbled.

“W-What? I don’t know! Anything, just do something, please.”

“You’re the trainer. You’re supposed to tell me what to do, no?” Tom’s teasing sends a tingle down your stomach that hits you straight in between your legs. “Do y’want me to fuck–”

“God, yes. Do anything, please,” You groaned, trying not to sound too desperate, but it was difficult when that’s all you were.

“Alright, alright, don’t worry.”

Tom pushed himself off of your body to remove his shirt. His glorious body was perfectly defined by his packed muscles wrapped in his tan skin. His skin looked so smooth, like a silky blanket. Your impulses got the best of you and before you could even think, they were roaming his god-like figure with curiosity.

“How are you so fit? Who is your trainer and how can I learn from them?” You question both jokingly and seriously. When he laughs, you can feel it vibrate through your fingertips and it makes you feel all fuzzy.

“I train myself, but I know some great cardio exercises I’d be willin’ to show you,” he winks as his hand lands on your hip. It was your turn to laugh now, your voice breaking the tight tension.

“Please,” You begged, tugging both of his hands toward you. It was your way of saying that he could do whatever he wanted now. “Go ahead.”

So he did. You removed your tennis shoes and then he yanked down your leggings. You were so needy at this point you didn’t even bother to discard your snug bra. If anything, you’re going to need its security with all the movement you’re about to do (hopefully).

His hands grabbed the hem of your leggings until they were completely off of your legs. You’re left in your soaking thong while he’s still in his loose gym shorts. Tom doesn’t waste another second because he’s growing just as impatient as you. He can feel himself twitching in his briefs, craving for a satisfaction that only you can seem to sedate.

Without a warning, Tom cups your mound with delicacy, fingers pressing against your aching hole. The gasp you let out is unwavering as your cunt clenches around nothing but your own desperation. He scrunches his palm, rubbing your underwear as you soaked through the fabric.

“Can feel that you’re soaking, darling,” Tom husks beside your ear, sending shocks of heat down your spine. You’ve never been so turned on in your life from someone, especially because of a deep, sensual accent like his. “Did I do this?”

“Yes, yes. All for you,” You nearly whined, but you withheld it with a strain. “Please just fuck me already.”

“What’s the rush, love? Got somewhere to be?” he taunted. You didn’t have anywhere to be and he seemed to know that. He was lucky you didn’t have any clients today or have any appointments. It was like the perfect coincidence that this occurred on this day. You’re grateful for the fate of the universe as he slips his hand into your panties to lace his fingers within your wetness.

“So fucking wet, love,” he grumbled so low you could barley hear it.

“I need it, please,” This is the most submissive you’ve ever been. You can’t recall a time where you have ever been this wet or needy for another man. There’s just something incredibly alluring about the man about you, rock-hard body and all.

“What do you need? Do you need me to put my finger in your tight, little hole? I bet it would just slide right in.”

“Fuck, Tom,” You growled in sexual frustration. His mouth spilled utter filth, but you were loving it. You felt the very tip of his finger nudging inside of you, causing your walls to clutch tightly. “I need you to fuck me. Please. No teasing.”

With an ever-growing smirk, Tom slips his hand out of your underwear and glides the material down your jelly-like legs. Your eyes never leave his hands, too scared to meet his intimidating eyes. You watch him with curiosity and desire as he tucks his thumbs in the waistband. His briefs come into your view and your eyes widen when you see the impressive bulge outline.

You swallow, intimidated by his size, especially since you haven’t had sex in a decent amount of time. He hasn’t even pulled down his underwear yet and you’re already frothing at the mouth.

“Do you have a condom?”

“I, um,” Your eyes wander around to your purse on the floor by your desk and you quickly bend down to pop it open. In one of your secret pockets, there is a nicely wrapped condom. “Here. I hope it fits.”

Tom laughs as he tugs his briefs down with ease. “You’re not good for my ego.”

You wanted to laugh in response, but you were too distracted by his cock. Mesmerizingly, you gaze at his hand stroking his veiny length, seemingly as desperate as you with pre-cum leaking at the tip.

Instead of grabbing the condom from your hand, Tom says, way too gravelly, “I want you to do it.”

So, with shaky hands and doe-eyes, you rip open the package and slide on the latex. The look on your face can easily make it seem like you’ve never even seen a dick before. But now looking at Tom’s, it feels like all the others are down the drain.

Within seconds, Tom has you back against the wall, one hand resuming beside your head and the other on your hip. Your heart jumped and pussy throbbed, waiting for him to break the lustful barrier in between you two.

“Ready?”

“Y-Yes,” You whimper as the head of his cock glides along your thighs before sliding in between them. Your arousal soaks the condom as he grips one of your legs, hoisting you up and around his waist. Your arms instantly wrap around his neck for security as your leg connects to him like a koala.

With one leg on the floor, you try to maintain your balance as he finally thrusts into you. You both collectively groan in sexual satisfaction, finally having your craving fulfilled. When you thought he had pushed all the way in, Tom pumps deeper inside of you, causing you to squeal.

“Shh, darling. Don’t want anyone to hear us fucking in your office, do you?” Your moans contradict his request, but you can’t help it. His hips were flicking up into you so fucking deliciously, and you couldn’t stop yourself from bucking right back into him. “Or maybe you do. You want someone to walk in and see one of their trainers getting their brains fucked out?”

“M-Maybe,” You couldn’t lie, the idea was enthralling. The idea and his dirty words made your toes curl and eyes roll to the back of your head. He knew exactly what to say and when to say it, almost as if he’d studied this.

“But I don’t want to get fired,” You whined a little too loudly.

“Well, then you better be a good girl and quiet down.”

In order to obey his demand, you brought one of your hands to cover your mouth. You allowed yourself to moan in your palm when his pace increased and he bottomed out completely. You could feel yourself fluttering around his cock as he rammed into you like no tomorrow.

His free hand traveled down to your clit and circled the throbbing bud with roughness. You shrieked against yourself, clenching tightly around his thick cock to compensate. Blindly, you are clawing at the skin on his neck and chest. Still, even when he was deep inside of you, you were terrified to look into his dark eyes.

With every thrust, you felt the way his muscles contracted against you. You felt and heard the way you drenched his cock even more with the sight. His muscles and body were the first thing that caught your eye about him to begin with, so you’re not totally surprised that you’re dripping from that.

He looks like a model. A statue. A god.

Small beads of sweat began to form on his abdomen, glazing down his chunks of muscle as he jammed harder into you. Your head hit the wall hard in ecstasy when he lowered himself to your neck and nibbled right below your ear. Every breath and groan that slipped from his mouth just sent you into overdrive and made you insane.

“I’m close,” You breathily warned, squeezing your leg tightly around him to push him even deeper. Tom groaned loudly on accident, too overpowered by the feeling of you.

“Wish I could hear your sweet sounds,” Tom mumbles as he pinches the top of your thighs to make you squeal. He resumes his attention on your clit, so he can distract himself from coming, because he knows he’s milliseconds away from absolutely losing it. “I know you’d sound so pretty screaming my name.”

“Tom,” You whimpered instead, eyes screwing closed. Your back began arching towards his buff chest and your breathing was becoming more rapid, indicating that your release was right around the corner. “I’m coming, shit.”

“Let go, love. C’mon, know you need it,” his lovely accent guided you through it with gravel encouragement. With another skillful rock of his cock, you were coming until you saw stars. Literally. Your eyes were closed so tightly that you saw little white specks in your vision. “There you go.”

Tom took that as his sign to finally relieve himself. As his thrust got sloppier, he helped you through it. With a fist to the wall and head in your shoulder, he came harshly in the condom.

Your body squirmed in his hold, already too sensitive. He gently let you stand on both feet, keeping you steady as you regained your balance. He removed the condom, tied it, and tossed it in the garbage.

“I can take out y’trash if you want me to,” Tom offered as you both slipped on your clothes. The humidity in the room seemed higher than ever, and then to put your clothes back on was just torturous.

“It’s alright, it’s not like anyone will go through it,” You reassured as you struggled to pull up your sticky leggings.

There was a moment of silence that made your heart rate pick up.You were both fully dressed and there was nothing stopping him from walking out. What was he thinking? Was he trying to find the best way to leave without being mean?

“I—” You both spoke at the same time, a flush burning your skins.

“Go ahead,” You insisted, too nervous and impatient for his response. He probably never wanted to see you again and that was fine, this was just a one-time thing that you will be thinking about occasionally. Or every day.

“Okay,” Now, Tom couldn’t seem to meet your eyes. He felt a tad nervous all of sudden as if he’d never talked to a girl before. He’s done this stuff loads of times, but he can’t help but get flustered like a school boy. “Can I… have your number? You can totally say no—”

“Yes,” You probably responded way too quickly, but you didn’t care. He wanted your number and you weren’t going to waste a second pretending to think about it. A smile grows on his face that was even bigger than his devilish smirk from earlier. “What does this mean?”

If you didn’t ask him, you would’ve been regretting it forever. You knew you wouldn't have had the courage to text him that question. What if he never even texted you, and he was just asking for your number to be nice?

“It means I’m going to text you.”

“Okay, well, thanks for clearing that up for me,” You rolled your eyes, but at least he was honest.

“Maybe ask you out too.”

“Really?” Your heart jumped on a trampoline in your chest, excitement bubbling up within you. You have been on a date in about a year, and Tom seems like a wet dream come true. You thought that maybe he wanted a friends with benefits arrangement, but a date? Is this real life?

“Yeah, if that’s something you want—”

“Yes,” You probably responded way too quickly, but you didn’t care. He wanted to take you on a freaking date and you weren’t going to waste a second pretending to think about it.

You did give him a free cardio session. The least he can do is take you out, right? What’s better than a free cardio session? Free food!

—

thanks for reading, this isn’t my favorite thing i’ve ever written because it felt a bit forced… so sorry about that 😭

tags: @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3 @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @theslayerofthevampires @breaxthing @eatshitanddiee

crossed out= not able to tag

[cupiohearts]

ALMOST SAY MY NAME ? - goo reminiscing you.

(cant catch me now) dg. gun. GOO

they see you everywhere. james, jonggun, joongoo. they find bits and pieces of you lying around in their pockets, their houses and memories. it depends on which one it is which scene they see you in.

for GOO he doesnt like thinking about you often. its a reminder of what he was scared for. constantly. he was scared of the fact you existed or perhaps did exist. that was just an inconsistency, a mystery. thats why everytime he finds a reminder of you he burns it.

just a few weeks ago, while he was out in a club with girls draped over him like curtains or perhaps human body blankets. their skin felt rather cold- it was likely the air of the club but he was reminded of the several times you forget your jacket in some place so you required his own jacket or even his hands to warm you up.

he finds his hands ghosting to the arm of some girl next to him unknowingly mimicking his actions whenever he was with you.

"your hands are so warm."

"maybe its because youre just cold"

you laugh at his snapback. your hands shoved down the back of his neck. you were laying on your back on his lap. one arm draped around his neck as you moved closer to him. "i dont understand how you guys can be in this room for such a long time. its so loud- and people are rather disturbing here" you say as you look around.

his hands squeeze your thighs and his heart just soars while he hits the couch laughing.

"its not funny! you guys arent even supposed to be here! you guys are hardly considered adults with the way you boys act"

he jolts as he's put back into reality. his eyebrows furrowing shoving the girl off of him while he grab his coat. saying a short im leaving before exiting the club. it wasn't exciting if it wasnt with you.

and now he finds himself in front of your house. everything was the left the same as the day they all came over. the flowers wilting since no one was taking care of it- but that was overstatement to say you even did take care of it.

rather you couldnt because you tended to chase down the trio whenever they act like gangsters around the area. he stands in front of your closet.

all of your clothes left behind. you didnt leave in a panic. how long was it that you thought about leaving? goo prefers thinking you got kidnapped or didnt leave on your own will even if your letter to him states otherwise. he likes keeping himself in the dark. there might be monsters but they dont exist until you acknowledge them.

he grabs a sweater. your favourite one. one he bought for you because he thought it was ugly and dumb. a fuzzy almost mustardish yellow sweater with a cat plastered on the front.

"youre actually wearing it?!"

"im proving you wrong! i can infact wear colors other than white or black!" you say proudly of yourself. your hands folded together as you show off the new piece of wardrobe.

"looks hideous on you, go back to black and white" he sasses to you. a smirk on his face as you narrow your eyes and lightly hit his arm.

"youre just mad because im actually pulling it off"

he rolls his eyes and rub his temple. stop thinking about it, he tells himself in his mind. what a lie. he always thinks about you. it's like youre this parasite in his mind, could you have put a curse on him? curse of obsession perhaps.

he shakes his head and grips the sweater tighter. pulling it back as he goes into your backyard and throws the sweater into a campfire pit. hastily his fingers go into his pocket and search through the back.

portrait... wallet... and theres the matches.

he picks one of the sticks out of packet. tapping it on the striker before finally swiping it. he watched the flame burn for a few minutes. the light dancing on the tip of the wood, he almost swears it sways. he glances to your sweater once before throwing the lit match inside of the pit.

what a spectacle to see the yellow mustard, cat printed, and y/n loving sweater burn. the sides of it turning black and watching as the flames run across the fabric made the light hit his eyes. his eyes tearing up.

was it because of the smoke? must be because of the smoke.

there were so many things that reminded him of you, and he should destroy each one of them. every reminder of you stuck to him and it was impossible to shake you off. he will just have to destroy every last bit of you until he can walk without the shadow behind him.

he lets the teardrop go down his face. one teardrop.

he backs up from the heat of the dying fire. how long had he been watching your sweater burn? no it wasn't that long. couldn't have been that long, your sweater probably just burned fast.

he stops and looks up at the sky. it was night time already.

he wonders if you're looking at the same sky as he is.

... heyyyyy how yall doinnnn 😁😁 ok technically this was supposed to be posted like NOT today. but it is. so yay. anyways teehee here you go the last part of my series thank god.

[siri-ike]

Danny's Phanclub

Chapter 3

First prev

By January 12th, Dani had visited Angie 4 times. She had heard all her theories, time lines, and saw photos of everyone who had been reported missing or dead at all four ski mountains in Illinois. Hundreds. There were hundreds of photos. Hundreds of people.

Angie was methodical. She didn't take evidence into account unless it could be verified, yet she still had so. much. evidence. It makes sense, doesn't it? He has ice powers, his ghostly wail, his bubble, he's really pale too. The other ghosts aren't as pale as they are. What if he did die on a mountain?

Dani stares mortified in the bathroom mirror. Was her nose always so frostbitten? She removes her left glove. The tips of her fingers are grayish blue. She had never really examined her ghost form. She took off one boot, and her feet were blue, too.

What if?

It's too late to ask Danny. He's away for school again. Maybe Jazz? She wasn't there. She can't ask Sam or Tucker. They weren't her friends they're Danny's. What if they make fun of her? She needs to find out. And there's only one person who can give her actual answers.

Despite living in Vlads mansion, it's a lot easier to sneak into Fenton works and use the portal there. Actually, sneaking is an overstatement. She walked in through their unlocked front door, and the portal had been left open.

She hasn't been in the ghost zone often. Luckily, she brought a hand drawn map she found in the lab. It took 3 hours no time at all for an expert explorer to find the place she was looking for.

The Far Frozen was as welcoming as she'd heard. No sign of life the dead as far as she could see. Until a flying vehicle carrying two yetis found her.

"Halt! Who goes there?" One yells from their perch.

"Dani Phantom, with an i. I'm here to see Frostbite." She declares with feigned confidence.

"Ay, it's Danny Phantom, the savior of the ghost zone!

Well, that was easy. Vlad had described them like savage beasts, but she knew if Danny trusted them, they had to be alright.

One very long ride and a very long explanation later. The yetis finally understood that Dani is not, in fact, a deaged Danny.

She expected more pushback, but Frostbite was more than willing to help "The great ones, heir" get a handle on things.

She got a full examination. In every way, she is exactly the same as the original except for two. She is younger, and she has a different core.

A different core. She's not the same.

"You have a water core. The element of change is unpredictable and adventurous. Like any ghost, you can fuel it by following your obsession. What is your obsession, my dear?"

Oh, what's her obsession? Did she even have one. It's so clear-cut for the others. They all changed dramatically when they died or in Danny and Vlads case "died."

"I'm not sure I have one." Dani looked down.

"Of course you do. You lack experience now, but pay attention. Go home, do what you usually do, and whenever you have an urge to do something, write it down. Whenever doing something fills you with energy, write it down. Then come back to me and show me what you discover.

Yes! A quest! Dani can do quests!

@vannahime @superbpastanickelzonk @creamsodafay

[justsomegdude]

A/N: OKAY HI! this is my first time posting something on tumblr… actually any reading app publicly! Currently I’ve been obsessed with negan for about a year. so I decided to start with just a short story with a quote I found! I don’t write and would appreciate any kind of advice. harsh or polite. please enjoy.

Warnings: negan, swearing, no pronouns. (for all genders out there who wanna read!)

Prompt: “Could you atleast try to be nice?” // “You’re still breathing. That’s me being fucking nice, asshole.”

It’s been a few weeks since your first encounter with Negan and to say you got at least a little close would be an overstatement. You talk to him sometimes, but he’s more focused on taking your shit and patronizing Rick than talking to you. Not that you like him, or want to talk to him at all.

You went downstairs from your room. You had the plan of getting a glass of water with no bother, but there he was. No other but Negan in your kitchen. You had usually seen him with Rick when entering housing but much to the normal sight, Rick wasn’t following him.

You cleared your throat just to let him know you were there, not genuinely caring and still being thirsty. “Well good morning to you too!” His voice booming with his usual jolly-ness. That stupid grin he always had, although you’d never like to admit you noticed it everytime you see him.

“Yeah.” Was all your boredom could muster up, grabbing one of the only glasses you have left from the cupboard and heading over to your sink.

“Could you at least try to be nice?” Negan had spoken up again. You weren’t looking directly but from your peripheral his grin had faltered. You weren’t nice to him, why would you be? he killed your friends.

“You’re still breathing. That’s me being fucking nice, asshole.” You said it not looking at him, swearing was one thing, but swearing when talking to Negan? It definitely made you nervous if you or anyone else would get punished for it.

Yet his grin was back, when you looked up at him to see his reaction for the swears that slipped out.

“You know what, I like you. What a fucking badass you are.” He basically had praised you for calling him an asshole. He’s never clear on what breaks his boundaries. At least you don’t think anyone is getting in trouble for your mistake.

Plus now Negan thinks you’re a badass.

[mrsmiagreer]

EA SPOILERS

BRACHIUM 🥺🥺🥺🥺

IS HE OKAY?????

Ik he’s so tired :(

“I am a failure” No baby no

“But i know you hear me”

This is literally so sad i’m crumpling

IS HE CRYING

“Please Mother, Please Release Me” BAWLING

IS HE BEING FREED?!

HE WILL NOT FAIL ‼️‼️‼️‼️👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

This is crazy cinematic

SUNSHINE IS SAVED

WHY IS AARONS VOICE SO DEEP😭😭😭

I literally almost didn’t know who he was

Oh Smartass is here too

Awe brother hug moment

YAYYYYYYY SUNSHINE IS SAFE

“I’m so sorry” 🥺

All I can imagine is Elliott and that damn comfort beanie that we all imagine he has on💀

BRACHIUM AND AARON MEET ?!

WHY IS AARONS VOICE SO DEEP OMG😭😭

It’s throwing me off like crazy who tf is that?! ERIN???

BLAKE MENTION BLAKE MENTION

I know what he did is bad but DADDY I LOVE HIM

Is he gonna die ☹️

“you? specifically?” LMAOO WHY DOESNT AARON BELIEVE HIM?!

I’m sorry but his story is so long :\

“Good. Give them back their fucking lives”😭

AARON CALM DOWN

Memory modification 😲

“I just got my brother back”

So he’s gonna change the circumstances of their memories not wipe them completely

Okay aaron and brachium going back and forth like this —

Omg aaron is literally gonna sit here and convince them that their trauma is worth keeping😭

I get it’s the right thing to do morally but like wtf if i wanna forget i will. if i don’t wanna have nightmares and have to go to therapy from being kidnapped and tortured for days then i will

IS THIS A VOTE ?!

Elliott’s voice is so cute and innocent

“PARTNER IS AN OVERSTATEMENT” LMFAO WHAT

YOURE TELLING ME THEYRE NOT EVEN DATING

“You want my body, you want my cooperation, then you let me have this. you let me have them”

I’m obsessed with Blake omg

“We will try this” YES YES YES OMG NEW BLAKE AND BESTIE CONTENT

“Hey!” OMG

IM LITERALLY FREAKING OUT

HE IS SO CUTE AND NERVOUS ABOUT TALKING TO THEM FUCK

He’s like sweating and almost crying omgggg

YOU GUYS DONT UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH IM GOING CRAZY

“We agreed to never talk about because you said if we did that you couldn’t have me in your life if that was something we talked about”

OMG HIM BEING A SEER

THIS LORE IS CRAZY

SO THEY DO KNOW HE’S A SEER

his stuttering 🥹🫶🏽

“I have to say this and i need you to listen to me when i say it…okay?”

“NO‼️” OMG IT SCARED THE FUCK OUTTA ME

He’s yelling at me guys i’m scared he’s yelling

THAT NIGHT OMG

MORE LORE THE LORE DUMP IS CRAZY

His aggression is halfway turning me on and halfway scaring me

Omg i’m about to start crying

i feel his pain so much

“I never stopped loving you” UGHH BLAKE

“You’re gonna die !”

OMG IM SCARED

He sounds on the verge of a psychotic break. Not even the verge. Just the psychotic break

“I know how crazy this sounds, I know how crazy I look”

Babes….its bad. Real bad

“Don’t speak THROUGH me” OMG THIS IS TERRIFYING

OMG WOW THIS IS INSANE THEYRE JUST SHOWING ALL OF HIS PAST TO THEM LIKE A DAMN TV SERIES

this is crazy

“That’s why I did everything”

Blake i’m so in love with you

If they kill Bestie anyway i’m literally gonna cry

The silence in between his sentences are so deafening

OMG THEYRE KISSING YES YES YES YES YES

WHAT DID THEY JUST SAY?!

“you can keep this deluded pet”

WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME LMAOOO

OMG YESSSS BLAKE GETS TO KEEP BESTIE

IM LITERALLY SHAKING‼️‼️‼️‼️

The fuck Aaron just grew up like another 10 years?!

“You tell him baby” ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

If i was smartass at this table id literally say “ewwwwww they’re kissing !”

WAIT WAS ALL OF THAT TO SHOW THAT BRACHIUM WENT THROUGH WITH THE MODIFICATIONS?!?!?!

SCORPIUS WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

OMG THEY DONT REMEMBER ANY OF IT

“I’m coming too” YUHHH DEMONS TEAM UP

You guys. You don’t understand how happy i am right now. All of my begs and pleads have been answered to. I just wanted to know more about Blake and Bestie and I got an amazing amount of Lore. I’m literally gonna start crying

[anony-man]

A request made by my good friend @siberat. I hope you enjoy!

Chubformers drabble #99!

Character: Perceptor (IDW)

Word count: 1.1K+

Nearly half of his personal fuel stock for the week had been ravaged in a matter of minutes, but Perceptor was still so, so hungry.

It was likely that ridiculous play Brainstorm called experiments the other day that had done him in. He never felt this hungry, not even after hours spent hunched over his desk working on various projects. His tanks groaned and cramped, begging him with noisy growls for more, more, more.

He needed a medic, or maybe an antidote, but most of all, he needed something else to eat.

Brainstormed was a skilled bot, even when things had a tendency to turn sideways with him in the laboratory. The giddy excitement and enthusiasm coupled poorly with his cocky demeanor, and more often than not Perceptor was forced to save the inventor from his own oblivion.

No, that should not be smoking and I don’t believe those chemicals react well when mixed were often phrases uttered from a distance as he watched Brainstorm work his magic, but in the end, things typically sorted themselves out. The more time they spent together the better, it seemed, and Brainstorm was getting faster at picking up the scientist’s tips and tricks.

He was getting better, much better, and Perceptor’s relief at seeing a drop in daily catastrophes had desensitized him to the ever-present risk that came with anything Brainstorm put together.

His latest notable invention—and by notable, Perceptor meant having the most potential to do some good for the rest of Cybertron—was what Brainstorm referred to as a miracle elixir. His obsession with breaking boundaries and bending the rules of existence was never squashed, no matter how long it took for him to make progress, and the morning prior Perceptor had been ushered into his colleague’s workshop for his role as the experiment’s guinea pig.

“It cures the need for fuel completely!” Brainstorm had said, his servos stretching wide as he imitated the swell of full tanks. “No more hunger, no more energon shortages… it’s perfect!”

Perfect seemed a bit of an overstatement, but Perceptor was willing to try. After all, the worst that could happen was it offlined him on the spot. Knowing Brainstorm, however, he had likely experienced much worse and more realistic side effects from a botched batch of new inventions.

He drank it without complaint, and tolerated Brainstorm’s chatter while they awaited the results, but to the inventor’s disappointment (and his, if he were being honest), nothing spectacular came of it. There were no side effects, no threats of illness, nothing. He didn’t feel different, and he certainly didn’t feel bad.

“Give it a few hours,” Brainstorm had said, insisting on walking him back to his own lab after they’d finished up with the failed experiment, “and let me know how it goes. I’m curious to see what changes!”

Perceptor was tempted to reiterate the fact that this was likely going to be another experiment that didn’t work out as expected, but the glee on the inventor’s face was far too fresh for him to crush. He would give a few hours, he decided, and see what changed… if anything. Granted, no immediate effects had him doubting the reliability of the starting formula, but changes could always be made moving forward.

He felt fine at first, and as the hours progressed, he was almost surprised to find that his fuel levels had in fact remained steady. Cleanup for the evening was quick and his drift into recharge was simple, and by morning, Perceptor had all but forgotten about the new experiment.

It was around morning, too, when his symptoms had begun to appear.

Perceptor pored over the scribble list Brainstorm had so hastily put together in his rush to create, one arm braced around his rumbling belly while the other held him upright in his chair. His optics were glazed over as he struggled to focus long enough to get past the first line, and his processor was occupied with the thought of rummaging through their storage for something, anything, to satisfy his hunger.

No, no, he wasn’t just hungry anymore . He was starving, weakened, and feeling like he’d gone without fuel for days on end. His vision was crossed as his groaned and rubbed his forehelm, the arm around his belly softening so he could rub at his middle and soothe the pains.

His plating was swollen from the bloat of his gut, his tanks stuffed to the brim from the sheer volume of food he had packed away. Processed fuel and bite-sized snacks had been the first to be devoured, but Perceptor had soon moved onto other things like canned ores and bottles of fizzy fuel in the lounge. His belly ballooned outward, stuffed far beyond its limits with food and fuel, but his tanks still rumbled.

He needed something more, and he needed something else. He was absolutely famished by now.

Perceptor lifted his helm from the desk—wait, when had he stopped reading the ingredients to that Primus-forsaken mixture? His helm was aching now. He stared back down at the pages, but the words blurred together, creating lines of fuzzy ink and illegible print.

His belly rumbled again, louder this time, and it was all he could do not to get up and stagger back out to the kitchen. His tanks would burst at this rate! He couldn’t dare pack any more fuel into them. Right now, he had to focus. He needed a cure, or an antidote, or something to reverse the effects of this ridiculous experiment.

“Focus,” he whispered to himself, scooting forward in his chair. “Focus, Perceptor. Think.”

The edge of desk dug painfully into the mesh of his belly, pushing it further back beneath the plating straining around it. He read one line, then another, his lips moving silently as he struggled to process the words. His belly ached with the sharp pain of gnawing hunger, and his helm pounded with every pulse of his spark, but he was going to be fine.

He had to find a solution to this, and fast. But maybe… maybe a break was deserved. He was painfully hungry, after all.

Perceptor pushed his chair back from the desk and stood with a groan, his servos immediately settling atop his protruding gut. Walking to the door was little more than a slow, painful waddle, his belly bulging outward as though full of a healthy, growing sparkling.

A break was needed if he were to make any further progress, he decided. Just one more break, and then he would put an end to this mess. Maybe, if he were lucky, there was still as stash of energon goodies stowed away somewhere in the kitchen

There was only one way to find out, and only one cure for his insatiable hunger. Perceptor stumbled out of the lab and headed towards the kitchen, his frantic search for an antidote forgotten and replaced by the desire to quell his voracious appetite.

[thevelaryons]

I can't stand show!Addam and his obsession with the Driftwood Throne; it makes him completely foolish. He talks as if Alyn should be the natural heir to Corlys, but even if he were legitimized, in a logical world, Joffrey would come first as Laenor's son, then Rhaena (if we don't consider Baela who renounced, otherwise she would come first her sister). Alyn is the third/fourth in the succesion line, Addam take it easy.

And I'm so mad that they made Alyn older than Addam and switched their personalities, because I really like book!Addam but now he looks like book!Alyn than show!Alyn does

Saying Addam has an obsession with the Driftwood Throne is an overstatement and you know it! 😭😭 He just mentioned it once.

This is the problem with Ryan Condal making unnecessary changes simply because he can. Now in the show, Joffrey/Baela/Rhaena all have to die first or get removed from the line of succession in some way in order for Alyn & Addam to be placed ahead of them without looking like some great disregard for the laws of succession. Whereas in the book, Alyn & Addam are younger and passed off as Laenor’s sons, so making them heirs is an easy enough thing.

HOTD is just playing mix and match with characters’ personalities and storylines at this point.

[centrally-unplanned]

Richard Hanania is one of my poster child writers for the "he is an complete idiot and also very smart" genre. I disagree with him on virtually everything, particularly core beliefs, but he nonetheless is an actual critical thinker who will come up with and explore interesting ideas, and so he is valuable to follow for exposure to good discussion from a world you are otherwise not gonna touch (and for a good laugh the other half of the time).

This is definitely one of those posts - the US right (not that the left is immune to this by any stretch, this is just about the right) is so infused with an instinct towards perpetual victmization that it becomes easy to buy into their own framing that the Right has been losing front after front in the culture war. This is the foundational premise of The Cathedral, the Moldbug-coined New Right tenet that "Cthulhu Always Swims Left" aka the left's structural advantage in controlling ~institutions~ means that in status-quo modernity culture will shift left over and over, endlessly...and therefore you need to violently overthrow the state and purge the corrupt neoliberal bureaucratic order to realize the will of the silent volke embodied in a CEO-Monarch to turn back the tide. Anyway, Hanania does a good job of pointing out that its really kinda bullshit. Tons of our culture has turned right over the past decades; gun control, education, and economics are the big topics that he mentions, and of course more exist, and its been a result combinations of public opinion shifting and the power of the state implementing agendas, aka normal politics.

Some of this is a bit of an overstatement - victories on like abortion for example haven't shifted minds, but instead exploited the US's ludicrous legal system to back-door legislative reform through the courts, its not a replicable experience in many other contexts or any other country. But the point overall stands, which gestures at the real problem - the only topic where the New Right's analysis 'holds up' is onthe sexual revolution and queer rights, revealing a movement irrationality obsessed with the sex front of the culture war. Here Hanania stumbles into his stupidity on why the right hasn't been successful fighting this, not really grappling with the fact that for example gay marriage is just really popular, this is a bottom-down fundamental sea change in how people view sex and society's role in policing it.

The mistake The Cathedral devotees make in analyzing society is that they take a single sip from a branch of the river of History and assume they have drunk it dry; Society swam left from 1950 to 1980, and the New Right cannot help but obsess endlessly over that transition as The Future. Note how common this is - so many people harken to "the 1950's" as the steady-state idyll of American society, the American economy, identify as 'traditional' everything from holiday songs to food recipes that were all invented around this time and have no older origin than that. Its all myths, and The Cathedral is an extension of that trend - by identifying US society in 1950 as a centuries-old continuity of tradition, it sees the changes of the ensuing decades as a radical discontinuity, and therefore a terrifying new normal.

It is wrong the same way nostalgia-memes are wrong; history never had a steady state, and people's ideas of even the 1950's themselves are primarily myth. Turns out historical conceptions of queer relationships have varied widly across time and space - none have been as progressive as today, but societally sanctioned spaces for queer relationships are legion. There has never been a steady state on sex and society.

But! Modernity *is* different from the past, and certain things have changed irrevocably - there is a verison of The Cathedral that is true. Technology & economic development have radically changed how we lived, from a society of farmers and their rulers to a society of urban professional workers. Cultural norms around sex & society varied all over the place; but (to radically simplify, there are a bunch of other factors) marriage for children to work the farms was near-universal, it was a structural necessity culture was built upon. This was a harsh limiter on sexual norms - said marriage for children needed to undergird it. That limiter is gone, forever, today. To not dive into it because its not the focus, with the limiter gone I don't think the 'sexual revolution', feminism, and queer rights is going to revert in a major way in the future.

Which will permit the right, as long as it stays maniacally obsessed with the idea that people don't have 1950's sexual morality anymore, to claim that they Always Lose. This is why Hanania stumbles, making the opposite mistake - seeing the failure to fight the sexual revolution as just a failed southern offensive in comparison to a successful northern attack on the front of education. The real trap is to not understand that culture is not freely malleable, only some of it is 'up for grabs' from the perspective of activists. Within the new status qup equilibrium of modernity, shifts right and left are not only possible but inevitable - but the rules of game have to be understood. Hanania may have only gotten halfway there, but props to him for opening my eyes to the contradiction.

[intriq]

I love being silly in ur asks!!!!

How do you think the Batfam would react to you being unexpectedly good at one of their "niche" (that isn't the right word I'm sorry) skills? Like gun skills(Jay) or flexibility (Dick)- 🌻

(You also don't have to do this pookie Intri I just love asking questions)

cackling, giggling even. im going to do this. ive been stewing over this since you sent it to me.

Tim - photography

He's probably a little surprised, no doubt. He's got a knack for photography, he's pretty good at it. I wouldn't be surprised if he has some sort of side job where people commission him for photos. He finds it to be a pleasant surprise when you give him a photo you took yourself as a little gift. It doesn't really matter if it's a picture of him or not, he'll still probably find a safe place to keep it so he can always look at it. He makes it a regular thing to trade photos with you after too.

Barbara - computers

Barbara doesn't exactly learn that your good at computers in person or directly. She hears it from the others after one night she wasn't available to provide information as Oracle and you instead did your thing just as smoothly, like it wasn't even an issue to navigate the Batcomputer in her place. She'll probably invite you to hangout with her after, trading tricks that'll no doubt sharpen not only her knowledge, but yours too.

Dick - flexibility

Hands down, Dick is shocked. He doesn't even know until one day you just so happen to showcase it while taking some thug down while on patrol with him, and he's obsessed there after. He probably constantly tries to see if there's anything he can do you can't, and he's probably always wrong in the end. Bonus points if there's something you can do that he can't, so he will pester you to teach him. Your definitely his new favorite person to patrol with after.

Jason - gun skills

He doesn't really let it show but he would be surprised. Amazed may be a bit of an overstatement, but it really depends on the type of person you are. If you don't look the type-- in his eyes-- to wield a gun, then yeah he's an amazed kind of surprised. Otherwise he's kind of neutral about it. He'd probably be interested in seeing if you can show him up in some gun tricks, though.

Bruce - strategy

He doesn't even notice it at first. He's far too busy planning something out when you offer your input that is incredibly thought out, and he runs with it. He adds it to his plan and it moves swimmingly, far better than expected. It doesn't click with him that you're a good strategist until after the mission he was planning for was all said and done.

Duke & Steph - puzzles & riddles [steph specifically]

Steph probably doesn't have much of a reaction. She's probably entirely neutral about it, a little uncaring. She'd still talk with you about it, though. Duke, though, is probably the total opposite. All hyped up and energized about it, happy that he's got something to talk with you about. Not to mention it's probably a topic you and him would enjoy discussing. He's just a hyperactive happy kid, I feel.

Cass - stealth

I feel like Cass would be surprised your good at stealth in its own aspect. No matter how she learns it, it'll probably lead to her staring at you and wondering "how the fuck did you do that" over and over.

[tootditoot]

My first sketches in actually learning how to draw the face

I never expected to have this much followers when I made this blog, (24! that's enough to fill a whole room!), so as a treat (before another critter celebration), I'd figured I'd share some lore of mine if y'all don't mind

You probably are aware that most of my posts are portraits of characters (that is because I am simply obsess with drawing the silliest and prettiest of things imaginable), but I never really drew the faces of characters way back then because it'll always end up looking weird and I'd be disappointed by the end of it. I only took up drawing again last year so it was quite a fresh new start

Anyways, I was talking to my friend a while ago and he mentioned how my drawing improved alot in the span of 8 months (Not PewDiePie level of improvement speed but I'd say it's pretty good), I thought it was an overstatement at first but God damn, looking back at it, it truly was humble beginnings:

Here is when I was still figuring out the shape and where the facial features would go. Pretty sure most of these were drawing by imagination, and some were with references. I made it a habit of mine to only draw a face for a minute and move to the next. Also I heard learning how to draw the skull gives you a better idea of how to draw the face

And now, to think my art would look like this in the present:

I chose this six images because I'm particularly proud how they turned out >:)) (and also because my app wouldn't let me collage more images)

To cut it short (because we're already four paragraphs in):

keep on doing what you're doing! As long as you enjoy it, it'll get prettier and better as time goes by :)

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Don’t Go Blindly Into The Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Meanwhile there is a darkness growing in Ketterdam, and it seems a killer may be stalking the streets of West Stave. An unknown evil is closing its jaws over the city, and it’s starting to feel like nowhere is safe.

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus @i-need-help-this-is-my-obsession @devoted-people-hater

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: gambling addiction, implied alcoholism, implied child abuse references

AO3 link

Chapter 57 - Jesper

Jesper couldn’t remember the last time he’d got a good night’s sleep, but despite his exhaustion one was apparently avoiding him tonight. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling because he’s given up on closing his eyes by this point, listening to the sound of the Dregs downstairs in the Slat. Somewhere down the hall he heard what distinctly sounded like someone throwing up, and grimaced. Whatever sickness had wormed its way into Layla had still not released its grip on her, and though it didn’t seem to be spreading at the minute Kaz had ordered her locked alone in her room with only Anika moving in and out. Anika had not been happy. 

“Just make sure she’s still alive,” Kaz had said, impatiently. 

“Why me?”

“You heard me, now keep moving. I have more pressing issues to deal with than Layla hacking her guts up, don’t make yourself a problem,”

Anika made a disgruntled sound that Jepser didn’t know the right word to explain, before marching off down the corridor mumbling something, which was doubtlessly less than complimentary, under her breath. 

How long had it been, now, that Layla was ill? Three days? That was unlike her. Whatever this was, it must be bad; Jesper did not fancy getting anywhere close to it. 

He blinked in the dark, the eaves on his far wall, his mind empty and yet moving far too fast. What time was it? He might as well have stayed at the tables. Maybe he could go now. He probably shouldn’t. But if he wasn’t going to sleep anyway… Well, what was the harm? 

He stood and lit a candle on his table, dim light but enough to get by, and swapped his nightclothes for a shirt and trousers, as well as one of his favourite orange waistcoats. It was only then that he picked up the pocket watch he’d discarded on the table when he’d arrived last night - he hadn’t worn it today - to discover that the face was cracked and the time now permanently read four bells quarter chime. Dammit. He’d only bought this about a month ago, as well. How many perfectly good watches was he determined to break? Well, actually ‘good’ might have been a bit of an overstatement; all of the watches had been cheap and to be entirely honest a bit crappy, but the point was that they kept time and he couldn’t afford to keep buying new ones. He’d broken so many that he was starting to think that his drunken self had some kind of unfinished business with clocks. 

Still, he guessed it was probably somewhere near to two bells as he shucked on his jacket and began to head down the stairs. Pietro could be heard down the landing fruitlessly arguing with someone, probably Anika, to be let into Layla’s room, and beyond that there was the general, ever-present hum of activity that always circulated the Slat; it was both always different and always the same. There was always gossip, but it was always new, and there were always jokes and stories and shouting and laughter and sometimes some of that changed, but not often. What was the popular topic tonight? The Hoede house, it sounded like, as Jesper drifted through. Unsurprising. Even the Barrel had caught wind of the stadwatch crawling all over Councilman’s Hoede’s mansion earlier this week, and had grabbed onto the rumours of a plague outbreak with both hands. Jesper’s gaze slipped upwards, towards Layla’s room. Let’s hope not, he thought, or we really might be screwed. 

The death of the Zemeni Trade Ambassador was also on the table for this evening’s buffet, but by the sounds of things that was quickly becoming old news. Kaz would cling to it, Jesper was sure; he hated a puzzle he couldn’t solve, and this seemed an impossible one. 

“Not even you could’ve done that,” Jesper had said to Inej, two days ago, lounging across a chair at the back of the Slat. 

Inej, perched opposite him with her feet tucked beneath her, poised upon her toes as though prepared to leap away at a moment’s notice, raised an eyebrow. 

“Who says I didn’t?”

Jesper barked a laugh, earning a smile from Inej, but she’d had to concede defeat in the end - both that she couldn’t have done it herself, and that she had no idea how the feat had been achieved. 

“Well,” Jesper stood up and took Inej’s hand, pressing it briefly to his lips before he began to walk away, “we’d better figure it out, or Kaz is going to be unbearably smug when he does,”

Inej laughed, then spun and leant over the back of the chair to watch him leave. 

“Where are you going?”

“The Crow Club,” he said, turning to walk backwards so they could see each other, “I’ll only be a few hours. You should get some sleep,”

“I should be so lucky,” she shook her head, “My shift starts in an hour,”

Jesper nodded, though they both knew he was studying the gathering shadows beneath her eyes, and then spun on the feel of his boot to continue walking. 

“Maybe you should take your own advice,” she called after him. 

He’d pretended not to hear. 

Jesper had been pretty accurate, unless the clock on the wall in the Slat was also broken, in his guess at the time. He slipped out the front door at about two bells half chime and began to wander the short distance North towards the Crow Club. 

The night was busy, but they always were. The streets were flooded with figures halfway between clambering free and crawling deeper into the dark. No-one came down these streets to light the lamps anymore and their tall, burnt out carcasses peered down over the moths that had found new lights to chase in their absence. They moved like one creature of a thousand limbs; or like the canals of the city itself, flowing where they thought they wanted to, not knowing or not caring that they were always being directed, guided, controlled, by the riverbed below and the rocks around them and the sky and sun and moon high above their heads. Even the air felt busy, tight and pressing, crowding in close as though there was a ceiling somewhere above East Stave that kept it penned in as the pressure built higher and higher. Where was the release? What would give first? 

Jesper imagined some invisible glass shattering over all of it, and came to the conclusion that he clearly needed to relax and have a drink. 

*

“Are you listening to me?”

Probably not. Jesper blinked, tried not to yawn, rubbed the sleep from one of his eyes as he tried to nod and almost face planted straight onto the table. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed, “Sorry. Listening,” 

Nina only shook her head, then thumped her palm hard against the table so Jesper jumped and jerked upwards. 

“That was uncalled for,”

“Really?” she asked, drily, “And what was I talking about?”

“Erm… Feliks is pissing you off and…” Jesper waved his hand vaguely, “something or other,”

“No - well, yes, but that wasn’t really what I was talking about. Do you want a coffee?”

Saints, yes. Jesper gratefully accepted when Nina left and returned with two cups of coffee in her hands, pretending he wasn’t tempted to snatch hers too and drink them both. They were sitting in a cafe on one of the winding little streets off East Stave; it wasn’t the prettiest place to look at, but it served blissfully strong coffee and blissfully low prices, so it was good enough for Jesper. 

“So, remind me?” he asked, spooning sugar into his mug. 

“Van Eck keeps asking me to go back,” Nina sighed, picking up the little milk jug, “and I’m ignoring him, but Feliks wants me to go,” 

Jesper nodded, slowly, then he sipped his coffee. He wanted to be delicate - Nina still hadn’t told anyone, or at least not Jesper, what had happened on her second visit to the Van Eck mansion and he expected that if he pushed he’d end up getting nowhere. Although maybe she’d brought it up in hopes he’d ask? Jesper decided to tread lightly, and if she wanted to tell him anything he was sure she would. 

“Why does he want you back?”

Nina shrugged. 

“The same shit as before, but I can’t keep Feliks at bay forever the man’s a bloodhound for cash and Van Eck has too much of it to pass up on. I don’t know what to do,”

“Talk to Kaz?” Jesper offered, a little half-heartedly because he had no doubt that Nina had either already tried Kaz or had her reasons not to go to him. 

He wasn’t going to press any further on the Van Eck matter; if Nina wanted to tell him anything that would’ve been her opening, and if Jesper thought about that skiv for too long he was going to end up putting his fist through something and getting them thrown out - and he couldn’t afford to start going to a different cafe. 

“I guess,” Nina released a heavy sigh into her coffee as she lifted the mug towards her face, “I need to talk to him anyway about,” she glanced briefly around the mostly unoccupied coffee shop, “the contract,”

Jeluna’s contract, Jesper assumed. He nodded as Nina took a sip of her coffee, then frowned and added another splash of milk. 

“I think I’m making progress on Anya, by the way,” she added, “Since you’re sure to see Wylan before me,”

Ignoring that last comment, which Nina had added with an unsubtle smile, Jesper frowned slightly as he said: 

“Anya?”

“Wylan’s friend? She’s a Healer; he asked me to look for her. She used to be at the Van Eck house but he doesn’t know what happened when she left - or, when he moved her elsewhere. I haven’t found anything yet but, just if you see him, let him know I’m trying,”

Jesper nodded.

“Yeah, sure,” he sipped his coffee, “Speaking of whom, erm… Raske told me, the other day, that he fainted in the workshop this week,”

Nina looked up sharply and Jesper knew that both of them were remembering Wylan’s terror when he woke up. Jesper didn’t know if Wylan had been alright, Raske hadn’t said anything of it he hadn’t been, but it was the collapsing that concerned him. 

“What could-?”

The little bell above the door pinged as it rattled its way open and loud chatter filled the air. Both of them glanced up to see a group of about five or six, jostling and shouting, their Black Tips tattoos on full display. This was the problem with the cheap places, of course; everybody went to them. 

Nina turned quickly back to face Jesper, her fingers tensing on around her cup. 

“Almost done?” she asked, her voice falsely light, her hand moving to press fingers against the mug and show him how many weapons she had noticed. 

Jesper was already standing up as he replied, resisting the urge to lay hands on his revolvers. If the Black Tips thought he was reaching for a gun they might draw themselves, and then what kind of mess were they going to get into? 

They left without an obvious hurry but still with a slightly hastened step. As much as Jesper wasn’t one to run from a fight, he didn’t much like their odds against a larger group. And anyway, there was sure to be plenty of time for that at tomorrow’s parley. 

[badblood-lesmis]

i am quite obsessed with Enjolras' mother & the trope of going voluntarily insane to escape but this is just a small thing for now

He would like to have said that he hasn’t spoken to his mother in years. He would also like to have said that he never knew his mother. Both of those things would be true and not true at the same time. He did, of course, speak to his mother, although that often felt like an overstatement. He nodded to his mother when he saw her coming down the stairs, he sometimes asked her something mundane just to remember what her voice sounded like. If she had slept well. If she would like something to drink. She had this way of turning her head towards him and giving him a long cloudy stare which always made him want to seize her by the shoulders and shake her and scream hello i am your son the one you gave birth to and it would really be nice sometimes if you didn’t look like you were trying to remember what my name is or who i am every single time you look at me. He never did, of course, and she eventually seemed to settle on some sort of conclusion of who he was, because she would arrange her mouth in a smile and say

“Fine, darling. Thank you.”

This was his only indicator that he is somehow different from the servants, that she actually knew the difference. Servants were dears, not darlings, but the guests were also darlings sometimes so in this there could be no certainty. Eventually he almost stopped doing that too — only if he was angry and wanted to make himself even angrier. He really really wanted to be angry. The angrier, the better, until he was so consumed by rage he saw red. Sometimes he wished she was dead, it would make it much easier. Dead people are more convenient when they are actually dead, not when they are walking around the house in a haze of madness and laudanum.

Sometimes he thought her madness was of the same nature as his rage. A carefully constructed and meticulously supported structure, allowing her to survive her husband and this house for sixteen years. Where Enjolras have chosen red, she chose no colour at all. For all intents and purposes, it wouldn’t make much of a difference had she been a ghost. Perhaps she would even be happier as one.

** *

Window glass rattled loudly like it was trying to be pushed out of the frame, a heavy beak knocking on it with insistence. A raven with glistening eyes stared inside the boys bedroom where his addressee was fast asleep along with two other boys. He knocked on the glass again, this time waking one of them. A messy head of hair rose from the pillow, looking around for the source of the noise. He knocked again, stirring, eager to get away from the freezing January air. Eager to get back to his own family, to fulfil his part of the deal, a crumpled piece of paper burning his leg.

The boy took his time, incredulously opening the window to let him in. The raven hopped inside, perching himself on the frame of one of the boys’ bed. The one he needed was still sleeping, not even the cold air waking him up.

“Who’re you then?” Asked the one who let him in. “Who uses ravens now, anyway?”

The raven thought poorly of owls. Undignified creatures, too much brawn, not enough brain, but he said nothing to that remark. Instead he bent his head down and slipped a small knot with his beak, letting a crumpled piece of paper fall on a nightstand, shook his feathers a bit and in a business-like manner proceeded back to the window. His family waited for him and he didn’t have time to wait for the boy to wake up. He considered his part of the deal done. Sealed and delivered.

“Weirdo.” Commented the boy when letting him back out. He was going to return to his own bed, when his curiosity got the better of him. Quietly, he snuck to Enjolras’ bedside table and unwrapped a small square of paper. In a very thin and shaky handwriting it said

Darling. You’ve done better than me. Never dare to return.

The boy stared at the note for a moment and folded it back before placing it on the nightstand again. “Cryptic weirdo,” he muttered to himself, getting into his bed. “Bloody dark wizards, his lot.”