#obviously that’s an overstatement

[sapphiretanto]

Ugh, some of the things I see about Raph just piss me off.

He’s a good brother dammit.

this is not a safe space for raph haters

[mbat]

still surprised that the people behind world of warcraft actually really released a race where the women can have beards, and not even just small or subtle beards, but ones just as big and grand as the men have. i dont really ever expect much from blizzard when it comes to anything progressive really, so its always a surprise if they do have anything like this.

and when ive mentioned it before, people have told me that women dwarves (the earthen arent even actually dwarves(?), they just look A LOT like them for whatever reason) usually have beards?? but ive never seen that before this whole thing, and even then, this is blizzard were talking about. its actually just a shock they did something like this at all.

i try not to publically praise them too much for a few reasons, but i just have to say that i like it, and yes i gave my earthen woman a grand beard.

[kawoala]

⁝ IWAIZUMI HAJIME 𝜗𝜚 boxer! iwaizumi 𝜗𝜚

ᰔ word count ; 989

ᰔ content warning ; profanity 、 angst 、 boxer! iwaizumi 、 fighting 、 bad people (not explicitly said, but gangsters, mobsters, mafia, etc in mind) 、 regret.

“what the hell are you doing here?”

a chill runs through your body as the voice floats through the air, miraculously hitting your ears over the noise of the crowd. you don’t want to turn around - you can’t turn around. your feet are cemented to the ground, held there by the pure fear running through your body.

pure fear might be an overstatement. iwaizumi would never hurt you - you know that. he’s really a sweetheart, but you know he’s going to be indescribably angry at you for showing up. this was his one thing.

at the beginning of your relationship, you had both stated your “one thing that the other could not do. obviously, you had said no cheating. you figured that he would say the same, but then he opened a can of worms by saying, “you can’t ever come watch me box.”

you hadn’t even known he was a boxer. sure, he constantly has bruises all over his body, but you assumed it was from working out. the guy was buff.

you take a shaky deep breath, mustering up every bit of courage you have, and turn on your heel. you’re met with a bare chest, glistening in sweat. you stare at it for a moment before tilting your head up to meet his eyes, squeaking quietly when you realize he’s glaring at you.

his face is all messed up - busted lip, bloody nose, a bruise that looks green to be brand new. you frown slightly at the view. you loved watching him fight - watching him win - just a moment ago, but you’ve never liked the aftermath.

“haji!” you breathe out, laughing awkwardly. “before you say anything-” his jaw ticks. “-i’m sorry. i know you told me not to come, but-” you sigh, and wrap your arms around yourself. “you love doing this, and i love you, and i just want to be involved with the things you love. i- i’m sorry.”

he’s still for a moment, eyes still narrowed at you, but his jaw relaxes a bit. eventually, he exhales heavily out of his nose, glancing around before he grabs your arm - careful not to hurt you - and drags you through the crowd. he’s going so fast you barely have time to apologize to the people you run into.

though, judging by the people here, you’re sure they’re used to it by now.

you end up in a room that reminds you of your high schools old locker room - the ones you used to sneak away with hajime to make out in. there are lockers lining it, benches sat in front of each set of lockers. he sets you down on one of the benches and stands in front of you, arms crossed.

and then it’s quiet again.

“hajime-“

“stop,” he cuts you off. “this was my one thing, y/n. i told you not to come here- i shouldn’t have even told you that i did this shit. jesus christ.” he runs a hand through his hair. “you’re so- this was really fucking stupid. do you know how dangerous these people are? you could get killed just for laughing at the wrong thing.”

you look down at your hands and sigh, waiting for him to continue. he doesn’t, though, and it's quiet again for a long moment. he takes a few steps forward, stopping right in front of you. he puts a hand under your chin and lifts your head so that you’re looking at him.

“i love you,” he says quietly, letting out a breath. “i love you and- and i can’t have you showing up here anymore, okay? my handler will-” he stops, pressing his lips together. he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “you can’t come again. promise me, y/n. promise me you won’t come again.”

this time, you press your lips together. you know how much this means to him - you know how much you mean to him. but you’re a grown woman. “why not?” you ask. “i can take care of myself. i- i took care of myself tonight, didn’t i? i’m grown, haji, i can deal with whatever-”

“no, you can’t.” he cuts you off with a firm voice, shaking his head. “these people-” he laughs breathily. “these people are fucking psychopaths.”

“and you’re not?” you inquire, standing up. you barely reach his nose, but the look on your face gets your point across. “what makes you different from all the other people here, hm? what makes you normal compared to these ‘psychopaths’?”

you regret it as soon as the words leave your mouth. a look of hurt flashes across his face for a millisecond, but then his jaw hardens and he furrows his brows. “i’m done with this conversation,” he says, shaking his head. “you’re leaving. now.”

he grabs your arm once more and takes a step, but you pull your arm away. “i’m not leaving, hajime.” your voice shakes as you speak. “i- i know that this was your one thing, but i just wanted-”

“y/n.”

“are you ever gonna let me finish a fucking sentence?” you exclaim, brows raising. “i mean, fuck, hajime. i just wanted to see you fight! i wanted to see you do the one thing you love more than me!”

your voice echoes off the walls of the locker room. once again, it’s quiet - save for the crowd cheering outside. you’re staring at the top of hajime’s head - he’d looked down after you’d stopped yelling. you don’t know what's going through his mind - you feel like you never do.

eventually, you break the silence with a sigh. “just…” you shake your head, hugging your arms around yourself. “i’ll see you at home, okay? drive safe.”

he doesn’t try to stop you as you walk out of the room. he doesn’t follow you as you make your way through the crowd. and he doesn’t come home that night, either.

[lizhly-writes]

based off this post. and this line, because i am going insane:

it’s okay, an ding disciples are allowed to unlock the top rights when they grow up, they take after their dad!

introducing: hallmaster jiang and disciple wu!

The peak lords of Cang Qiong were not meant to be Shang-shixiong's personal harem, but that seemed to be what was happening anyway. This was not something that Jiang Yunyan usually minded -- he normally found it incredibly amusing -- but. But.

"Disciple Wu," Jiang Yunyan said. "That is not how you are supposed to solve your problems."

"But it worked, though," muttered the little disciple that he had pulled aside after hearing about said disciple's escapades.

Wu Youxuan had been an entirely normal An Ding disciple, if one with the unfortunate tendency of getting roped into fights against Bai Zhan disciples. While he came out of these fights without too much damage, it was still disruptive to his regular tasks and duties. It was becoming a problem.

A problem that Wu Youxuan had apparently gotten advice about from the An Ding Peak Lord.

"You seduced five Bai Zhan disciples," Jiang Yunyan said.

"It's an overstatement to call it seduction," Wu Youxuan said. "This disciple simply... said a few words."

'Said a few words'. If he was following the direction of Shang-shixiong, Jiang Yunyan could very well imagine what kind of words. "Is that so?"

"Well --" Wu Youxuan began, and then his head abruptly snapped to the side, the movement not unlike that of a cat suddenly catching sight of a flock of birds.

Jiang Yunyan followed his line of sight to see that this was almost exactly what had happened. There was a pack of Bai Zhan disciples who had been passing by, all of which had frozen under Wu Youxuan's gaze, which had shifted from 'sullen boy getting reprimanded' to 'boy with enough arrogance to drown the world'. The way he tilted his head, the way he smirked -- it was all... strangely familiar.

When Jiang Yunyan recognized it, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. That was the exact bearing Shang-shixiong had worn when Jiang Yunyan had almost walked in on him seducing Liu Qingge.

Shang-shixiong was so annoying. Why was he like this? Furthermore, if he had to be like this, did he have to set this kind of example for the disciples?

"Hi," Wu Youxuan drawled, and fluttered his fingers almost teasingly at the Bai Zhan disciples, who were all turning various shades of red and starting to scatter. Most of them, anyway. There was one entirely unaffected disciple who made a rude hand gesture at Wu Youxuan before almost pointedly turning his back on him.

Wu Youxuan's smirk dropped.

"Do you have a particular disagreement with that disciple?" Jiang Yunyan said.

"No, that's just Chen-shidi," Wu Youxuan said. "I think he's mad at me. He won't talk to me anymore. Which is fine. I don't need him to talk to me. He's an asshole, anyway. Who needs him? Jerk."

None of these words seemed to stop him from staring longingly after that Chen-shidi as the other boy stomped off.

Was it that Wu Youxuan seduced all Bai Zhan disciples except for the one he was actually interested in?

"Did Lord Shang's advice not work on Disciple Chen?" Jiang Yunyan said, vaguely amused.

"I didn't try it on Chen-shidi," Wu Youxuan said, in the voice of a boy desperately trying not to sound miserable at the fact that his crush was ignoring him.

"You specifically didn't seduce Disciple Chen?"

"It's not seduction," Wu Youxuan said immediately and then, a little more hesitantly, "Jiang-laoshi thinks I should try it on Chen-shidi...?"

That was not what Jiang-laoshi had said at all.

"If I seduced him -- not that it's seduction -- he can't ignore me anymore," Wu Youxuan said, warming up to the idea. "He'd have to talk to me again." A pause. "Not that I care about that.

Fucking teenagers.

"Yes, you obviously doesn't care at all about that Disciple Chen," Jiang Yunyan said dryly.

"Right," Wu Youxuan said, sarcasm flying over his head in the face of his newfound determination to seduce his crush. "May I be excused, Jiang-laoshi?"

Shang-shixiong was such a bad example.

Jiang Yunyan contemplated what he could say. Have you considered your crush is mad because you're seducing other people? You shouldn't use seduction to solve all your problems. An Ding is getting such a strange reputation nowadays. Stop listening to Shang-shixiong, he's a terrible role model.

In the end, all he said was, "You're dismissed."

Wu Youxuan nodded sharply, and spun on his heel, settling into the graceful stalk of a predator after prey.

That Disciple Chen was in for an interesting time.

[llycaons]

seeing shinji reminded me these are the other three, but six doesn't make a nice tidy group. nanami and asuka and little my are also deeply beloved to me tho I love girls who are angry and have so many problems

ppl in fandoms are always like 'my son' this and 'my son' that and occasionally 'my husband' jadhksad and only in recent years have you seen ppl talk about female characters that way, like mainstream? I think? but in honor of izu appearing this week or maybe next week or the week after these are my girls, my daughters, my most cherished little sweet beloveds, I adore them, and I don't get to talk about them enough but truly they mean the world to me 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

[thegoldencontracts]

(Not) A Stand-Up Guy

Summary: Your boyfriend is being insulted. Naturally, you defend him. Problem is... That's kind of hard.

Characters: Azul, Jade

Azul Ashengrotto

It was a peaceful day as you passed through the hallways to run a quick errand; delivering papers to Professor Crewel. The halls were almost completely deserted, every little sound echoing through the walls.

And one of those sounds was the sound of people insulting your boyfriend.

"Ugh," said some guy. "The damn crook. Can't believe people like him can be housewarden."

"We should beat him up." Silence. "I-I'm joking," said the other guy hastily. "Obviously, I know that wouldn't work with those goons of his. He's still annoying, though."

"His voice pisses me off."

"His voice?" Said another guy incredulously. "What about the fact that he's a terrible person?"

A terrible person was definitely an overstatement. Though he definitely had his flaws, Azul wasn't Satan incarnate or anything Iike that.

And- now that you thought about it, didn't these guys cheat off you during Alchemy? What were they doing insulting you boyfriend when they knew you could hear them? Didn't they have an ounce of respect?

...Or did they just think you were a pushover?

You were beginning to feel offended on your own behalf, too.

"Hey!" You said, turning to face them, closing the gap between you and the group of miscreants. "Don't talk about my boyfriend like that!"

"We're right," said one of the guys nonchalantly. You paused for a second.

He was a crook, and he did intentionally get on people's nerves. Curses.

"Uh, well-" You raised a finger to try and prove your point, except there was no point to prove. "He has a very lovely voice!"

"That he sweetens up to get on people's nerves," said a guy. He was right.

You paused for a second. They were right, weren't they?

No, no. You weren't going to let this slide.

"Still," you said, steeling yourself. Your voice instantly turned stony.

"Let's face it: Night Raven's a school of schemers. You're all probably up to no good yourself. Azul isn't particularly worse than any of you, nor is he the morally irredeemable prat you seem to think he is. He's insanely hardworking, and probably more talented than you could ever be, considering how often you all try to pull a fast one and look at my answers during tests."

You paused for a long breath, taking in their shock at your words—and the fact you knew about them cheating off of you.

"So," you continued. "If you're going to use me to cheat or whatever, at least don't talk shit about my boyfriend when I can clearly hear you."

That promptly shut them up.

"Sorry, sorry," one of them said. "So... You won't tell Professor Crewel about... Uh...?"

You beamed.

"We're all good!" You said, switching up your tone immediately. You had gotten what you wanted.

The guy sighed.

"T-Thanks," he said, not really caring about Azul so long as he could keept cheating off of you during Alchemy.

"No problem!"

You beamed, off on your merry way. And, afterwards, you bumped into none other than your darling himself, Azul.

"I saw your little skirmish earlier today," he said with a grin. You laughed.

"I'd stick up for you again," you said. He smiled. "Even if it is super hard to do."

The smile fell right off his face.

"You'd do well to cease this line of conversation."

"Nah," you said. "I think I'll keep talking about it some more. I'll talk about you being a crook, and how you talk like Squidward from SpongeBob sometimes, and-"

"Insolent cretin."

"I love you too, Azul."

Jade Leech

Getting to pick Jade's mushrooms was quite the pleasant experience. They were all so pretty, and the garden itself was so well taken care of, not to mention how much glee you felt at the thought of Jade trusting you enough to ask you to pick some of his precious mushrooms for him!

As you finished storing the last of the mushrooms—Lactarius Indigo, a really pretty one; edible too—you practically skipped back to Octavinelle. Oh, how you loved mycology. The world of fungi was really quite fascinating.

So why did everyone think they were creepy? At least, they did in this school. Seriously, mushrooms weren't just not creepy, they were awesome! Mushrooms were one of the key players in the ecosystem, a great source of food, so varied in utility it was insane, gorgeous, not to mention-

"Oh, look," some guy said." It's the creepier Leech's servant, here to collect his fucking poison mushrooms."

"Don't say that! They're supposed to be together!" Said another guy with a snicker. "They're totally equals, you guys."

Your eye twitched. You could hear them. They knew that, right?

No, no. You had to be calm about this. Move on, ignore them.

"I wonder what kinda blackmail he's got on his little servant-"

"Oh, shut up!" You said before you could stop yourself. You'd lost your temper.

One of the guys scoffed.

"Your precious little boyfriend's a creep, and you know it," he said. Another guy nodded along.

"Wasn't that there thing about him finding people's private online accounts or some shit?"

You grit your teeth. That was... True, actually. He did that, and he also messed with others for his own amusement.

Curses.

"It's just the truth," said one of the guys. You noticed the yellow band on his uniform. Savannaclaw.

You smirked.

"Were you or were you not in on it when your dorm orchestrated the mass accidents? What about the stampede on Diasomnia?"

His eyes widened.

"I- uh-"

"That's what I thought," you said. "Might want to shut it, then. You're not exactly a saint yourself."

With that, you walked off, making one last comment about how they'd never been in a healthy relationship before. Still, you couldn't help but sigh.

You hadn't actually won the argument. You just- deflected their point.

Then again, did those guys really have a point? This was Night Raven. What made the things Jade did any worse than the misdeeds of other students?

You were pulled from your lamentations by the sight of Jade Leech.

"Thank you for so bravely taking a stand on my behalf, dearest," he said with a teasing look that contained a vague trace of sincerity. How did he even get that information? Hell if you knew.

"No problem, my dear princess," you said with an entirely straight face. "On that note, your knight has brought the requested items."

You pulled out the bag of mushrooms, presenting them to him with a smirk.

"Please, accept this humble offering," you said. It was all too satisfying to catch the split second of frustration on Jade's face at you playing along. Turnabout was fair play, wasn't it?

But, of course, he had to keep playing along. It was actually pretty funny, to be honest.

"I accept, my darling knight," he said with a smirk. "Of course, I must reward you."

"And how exactly do you intend to go about doing that?"

Your question was promptly answered when he pulled you in for a kiss.

[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.

[hmshermitcraft]

To say Scott is fond of The Codfather is an overstatement. He doesn't like the fish man. He doesn't like the mud he tracks everywhere, doesn't like how loud and brash he is, doesn't like this and this and this. He's always picking fights with the other rulers, and frankly, Scott thinks that the Ocean Queen should've left her 12008-month-old brother away from ever ruling over a kingdom.

Jimmy doesn't like King Smajor III of Rivendell (Or whatever his official title is. Smajor will repeat it over and over if someone gets it wrong, but Jimmy always tunes out that stupid elven accent.) He's rude, and condescending, and always some kind of stupid remark to make at everything! But, really, what is Jimmy meant to do when he finds Smajor and the Wizard Gem in two cells under Mythland? He saves them, obviously! Which then prompts Scott to come to his empire once he recovers. It's jarring. To say the least. Seeing the elven king himself, mud on his boots, at Jimmy's door, stumbling over his words, nervously asking him on a date.

The date is fun. Really fun. Jimmy likes the pond in the hidden away cave, the cake, the tunnel of love, the banter and jokes they find themselves laughing at, all of it. It's so sweet. Maybe, Scott is an okay guy.

Scott has always put his kingdom over everything. He was born to rule, blessed by a higher being to protect his kingdom and people. Every decision he makes needs to be carefully evaluated, pros and cons weighed, council's advise taken onboard.

Jimmy sees them in the cells and thinks of none of that. He breaks them out immediately, despite the trouble it could sow in the already strained relationship between him and his neighbour. Despite the troubled relationship between him and Scott.

Jimmy doesn't think twice about it, because it's the right thing to do. He's loud, and he's brash, and he's so, infuriatingly kind.

And then Scott is up to his knees in dirt, asking the codfather on a date with no discussion with his council, no consideration of his relationship with other kingdoms. He expects to be laughed off the doorstep, but instead, Jimmy brightens up.

They go on a date. He enjoys it. Jimmy enjoys it.

Maybe Scott can be selfish about just one thing.

[bambisnc]

he's the one that's livin' in my system baby! [02]

pairing : sungchan x reader genre : fluffy roommates au <3 lil angst bc reader is really out here questioning their whole existence (js like me fr) cw/tw : sungchan spills coffeee + reader is freaking out a bit bc of feelings tm + minor swearing + use of caps wc : 1k !!!!!!!!!!!!! everyone cheer and clap for me !!!!!!!!!!!!!

'RING!!!'

you sit up at your desk with a start, head hitting the lamp that you had so thoughtfully adjusted to be right above earlier in the evening. as you check the alarm clock, it's.. 2.59 a.m. already?! shit.. the last you remembered it was barely 10.00 p.m. and you had just gotten ready for a "super intense cram session", to be able get at least a little ahead in preparations for your finals.

that totally worked out well huh?

as your still sluggish mind slowly catches up, you notice a shawl wrapped over your shoulders.. and that candle you'd lit had been blown out as well. hmm.

your suspicions are easily confirmed when you notice a little yellow piece of paper stuck to the wall with a simple "you got this ^^ ♡" on it.

before you're fully able to let yourself swoon at the thoughtfulness of your roommate - it would honestly not be an overstatement when you question how much of a saint you must've been in your past life to be graced with a roommate like him - you hear a concerning clatter from the kitchen which makes you immediately rush towards the source of the sound.

and there stands sungchan, scrambling around the drawers looking for something.. the puddle of steaming brown liquid, coffee probably, indicates that his search is most likely for a dishcloth.

you move up behind his now bent figure as he rummages through the lower drawers, as carefully as you can to pull out one and dangle it in front of him teasingly, "looking for something~?"

"i could've sworn that was not there before?? dude are you sure you're not some kind of sorceress in disguise looking to prey on pretty boys like me?" your close proximity doesn't seem to affect him in the slightest; you however very much are affected. which obviously means you'll yet again hide behind a safe fool proof technique : a teasing remark.

"pfft- is that the best you could come up with? rather basic, no? you need to up your game seriously - when i first moved in, didn't you accuse me of being an evil horticulturist because i got you flowers?"

"hey no you see that was totally valid and besides the jury is still considering that possibility"

"the jury?"

"mhm, the people who said they'll get back to me on r/horticulture."

you have to laugh at this but as you accept your defeat you flick sungchan's forehead slightly, and roll your eyes at his exaggerated whine.

the dishcloth in your hand suddenly brings you back to earth, you know, as compared to how rather over the moon you feel in his company, "wait catch me up on what happened here?"

"ah.. i was making you coffee. i don't support caffeine at uh 3 am usually but i know you really wanted to get done with some of those worksheets of yours so.."

there he goes being all thoughtful again. god sometimes you really don't even know how to form coherent replies when he shows his care for you so, so unabashedly.

"right yeah.. i appreciate that. but you really don't have to sungchan-"

he doesn’t have to. doesn’t have to make you coffee, doesn’t have to stay up for company when you’re pulling all-nighters, doesn’t have to cuddle with you during your pirated show binges, doesn’t have to hold your hand during late night grocery store runs, doesn’t have to share his mint-choco chip ice-cream, his favorite, with you when your spicy ramen starts getting a little too spicy, doesn’t have to comfort you when everything, everyone gets too overwhelming.

“i know. i’m not doing this because i have to - i want to do this for you… is there a problem with that?”

yes, you want to say, yes there is. he’s making you feel emotions you’ve only ever read about in webtoons and fanfictions, and you’re scared of that. you’re terrified of that. “feelings” never lead to a good outcome unless they’re overly romanticized in various media; and this is definitely not a romance novel; nor is this a kdrama. “feelings” lead to vulnerability, to rawness, to your heart being completely exposed, because it’s undeniable that the defenses you’ve worked to set up around it all your life will break down in a single instance, if he asked it of you. you know that.

“..no. of course not.”

sungchan’s face lights up with one of his trademark smiles then, as he directs you back to your room assuring you that he’ll be “right there with your coffee madam <3”

you’re unwilling to leave but you’re also unwilling to stay. you make your way to your desk, mind still a jumble of complicated thoughts, all revolving around him. it’s genuinely shocking how, despite having been in your life for such a short period of time, he’s somehow wedged himself completely and truly in your mind and heart.

-

“what’s on your mind hmm?” you find yourself in a similar position to merely 7 minutes ago in the kitchen, except this time it’s him with his arms moving around you to place your coffee mug on the table, diligent in taking care to avoid your laptop and notebooks.

“nothing much,” another safe, noncommittal response to hide behind, “feel kinda sleepy, still.”

“well, caffeine to the rescue!! but i would definitely suggest getting a few hours of rest.” he still hasn’t moved, his arms now resting on the wood, as he slightly tilts his head to look at you.

for once you decide to let yourself bask in the safety and comfort he exudes, overthinking and complications can, with all due respect, fuck themselves. “thank you, sungchan.” you’re unable to add in the ‘for everything’ so you can only hope he understands. you reach forward for the coffee, nose wrinkling slightly at noticing how hot it is.

and then. he leans in slightly till you can see your reflection in his warm, mocha-coloured eyes and inside you it’s as if 2 separate beings are desperately fighting for attention; one adamant on backing away as far as possible because it’s safe but the other yearning to pull him even closer. both beings are unfortunately unable to come to a conclusion, forcing you to rigidly stay fixed, not unlike a statue.

his voice is barely above a whisper when he goes, with all the devotion and affection you’d imagined in the gazes of every fictional crush you’ve ever had, “you drool when you sleep. it’s really cute.”

a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose and then he’s gone with some sort of a pleasantry but you’d be damned if you could remember even a word of it.

you blink. once, twice.

change of plans, then : instead of studying, you might need to pull out your softest, most sound absorbent pillow and scream into it, “jung sungchan. fuck. you.”

old notes : somewhat of a prequel to the other one? idk it's in the same univ u can fit in the pieces wherever u like also head empty worrying about exams also. sumchango love dive. ty for ur consideration . new notes : its a series now !11!!!! + [series m.list] [m.list]

[dykeulous]

the infantilization of men is so severe, so mind-blowing and so present in all parts of leftist spaces, and we should be calling that out more often. cancel culture tends to be very flawed itself (i’m not saying that people shouldn’t face repercussions for their wrongdoings, and i’m obviously not talking about actual bigotry & crime here, that isn’t cancel culture– cancel culture is made up of snide people who want to appear to stand a high moral ground, picking on anyone who makes a small mistake, or even just generally on anyone who they deem weird, cringe & unlikeable– refusing to let people move on from their *unproblematic* past), and a lot of people point out how it does a very bad job at addressing actual problematic behavior & instead focuses on ostracizing and partaking in cringe culture as its brother culture– but what is often swept under the rug is how cancel culture entertains & platforms heavily problematic men, even allowing rapists scot free– while its focus is primarily directed at women. cancel culture wishes to bully & tear down any woman it deems unlikeable, and this is not an overstatement, nor is it an unnecessary exaggeration; cancel culture proves itself time and time again to be very forgiving, and even forgetting of actual crime and bigotry committed by men, and in turns infantilizes said men, while it pays special attention to micromanaging & twisting women’s words. cancel culture is misogynistic, and it is based on the First Rule of Misogyny: Women are responsible for what men do.

this issue extends further from mere cancel culture. the rigid problem regarding the infantilization of men, and the encouragement of micromanaging & surveillance of women is extended to leftist & progressive spaces in general. the superiority complex of leftist men is set aflame & left to keep burning joyfully as it wishes, leftist men believing they are more intelligent, more progressive and tolerant than leftist women ever will be. all a man has to do in order to be considered a hero and an activist icon is say something that supports queer capitalism here & there, and for a woman to even be referenced once, she has to be a highly intelligent sociologist & activist politician, completely compliant & submissive, inconsiderate of her own emotions & boundaries and willing to debate her own basic human rights with a smile imprinted on her face. leftism is not exempt from misogyny, and leftist spaces aren’t sexism-free, especially given the inflated ego of leftist men & the tendency to treat female liberation as a side quest, and female oppression as a bystander to other systems of oppression, being extremely primarily class reductionist & failing to analyze the categories of “woman” and “man” as two classes with their own oppressive relations connected to labor. female socialization; women being nurtured to be more kind, more considerate, more gentle, more nice– all of this is being efficiently used against us in the very end, waiting to bite us with lethality. women are expected to be perfect advocates, perfect activists– and when we fall short in any way, when we dare show even the smallest signs of being human and not working as robotic vehicles 24/7 made to solve world problems– we get called misogynistic slurs, and smear campaigns ran against us.

the insane infantilization of men within leftist spaces is a problem that needs to be fixed, immediately. leftist men are not exempt from criticism. feminists are tired of having to do the majority of work and still being stabbed in the back by our supposed allies, while genuinely dangerous and horrible men are being allowed to conceal in the shadows by leftists, and sometimes they are even celebrated. the male hero, male savior, perfect male activist icon– mainstream leftist spaces infantilize & idolize the men they crown the movement’s heroes of the week, painting them as infallible, misunderstood, Cool Cute Quirky Little Guys; and if those men end up being racist or misogynistic, and even if they are accused of something as severe as rape, their fanbase will be ready to fight wars for them & sweep the evidence under the rug, say there is no evidence, say the evidence is not enough, not neatly provided– their fanbase will do anything to preserve these grown men as their perfect celebrity gods, incapable of wrongdoing, incapable of being scum and danger. this issue further extends to men who aren’t leftists at all, who aren’t popular or celebrities at all– it extends to normie men, to ordinary men. this can be observed when a teen person wants to come out as gay or trans to their parents, and they record/track this process on their social media– the observers are usually more likely to critique & be suspicious of the person’s mother, despite the fact that men are usually the perpetrators of violent homophobic & transphobic hate crime. the person’s father is often presented in such a light that will give the audience an overview of men being such cool & chill creatures, such rational creatures. people will often post text messages of them coming out to their fathers where their father acts confused but supportive, or says something as simple, disingenuous and uninteresting as “i don’t care”– and the viewers will go crazy, presenting this father as such a cool father, as such a supportive parental figure for commiting such non-actions; while in the same breath bullying mothers & calling them cringe when they buy rainbow products for their children.

you need not go in deep details, searching for specific scenarios– you get the idea of what is being said here. this is not a non-issue, and it must be fixed. leftist women do so much for this movement, yet they are unappreciated & straight up degraded when they slip even a little off the current mainstream standards, being presented as monstrous and bigoted, and downright evil. a woman can do so much actual activism, for gay & trans people alike– but as soon as the micromanagers of her words find something to be mad about, or accuse her of wrongthink– it is over for her. it all goes in the trashcan, all of the work she has done– all the while literal rapists are allowed to run free. class reductionists are going to yell leftist infighting! at me, but if leftist infighting is when women point out valid criticisms of how the people within our movement are treating us, then we will never be truly united in tackling systems of oppression. stop coddling men.

[daysofyellowroses]

training season

kerry von erich x afab!reader | 3.4k | 18+ minors dni | honestly zero plot to be found, just smut because why not!

i don't think it's an overstatement to say this is incredibly overdue 🤦🏻‍♀️ i started writing it in..march i want to say, and then hit a bit of a mental health slump but here we are in july, surviving if not thriving ✨️ this story is based on this request from the most patient angel in the universe, love of my life, @thecapricunt1616 do yourself a favour and scoot on over to discover the best blog in existence 🫶🏻💗🌼 enjoy!

🥇

“He's here again.”

“Who?”

“Your not-so-secret admirer.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, not looking across the room. It was the third or fourth time that week that some of your fellow team USA athletes just happened to be in the same gymnasium as you. Sure, their disciplines were based outdoors, but you were all happy to keep up the charade that they were there for moral support. Not to watch you and the other gymnasts walk around in flimsy practice leotards, absolutely not. Like you and the girls never went to watch the guys strut around in their flimsy vests, you were just there for moral support.  

When it was your turn on the mat, you took your time unzipping your hoodie, carefully folding it and setting it aside as you felt eyes on you. When you walked over to the corner of the mat, you gave a slight glance across the room, checking who was sitting in the stands. Of course Kerry was there, you would have been disappointed if he wasn't. 

You always pushed yourself to be the best, but knowing he was watching you always pushed you harder, made you add a little extra flair to your routine as you moved across the floor with ease, throwing yourself into your practice. 

After you'd finished and had rejoined the girls, you found Kerry still watching you when the next girl went to practice, looking away after giving him a smile and trying not to feel too smug to have his attention. 

It wasn't like he didn't have yours, you supposed. You just enjoyed keeping him on a hook. 

Of course, you and the girls just happened to be going for a walk around the training grounds later that afternoon when Kerry and his teammates were out for practice. It was a beautiful afternoon and you were just enjoying the weather while you had some free time.

While some of the girls stopped to properly watch the guys training, you linked arms with your bestie on the team and kept walking, giving the occasional glance over your shoulder before looking away and bursting into a fit of laughter about how teenage it all was. 

Still, teenage or not..it worked.

As you were rounding a lap of the training grounds, you spotted Kerry walking over to you and had your bestie giving you some excuse or the other before she went to join the other girls/spectators. You didn't mind having an audience, after all it was girls you'd known for along time and you'd been in the group watching on enough times.

“Hey,” Kerry grinned as he approached you, his hoodie draped over his shoulder. “what brings you out here?”

“This weather, obviously,” You grinned, unzipping your hoodie a little. “It felt criminal to be inside any longer.”

“Fair enough,” Kerry nodded, smirking a little as he glanced over to the girls, huddled together and giggling as they all pretended the grass was suddenly fascinating. 

“How are you feeling about next week?”

“Like the gold is already around my neck,” You shrugged with a smile, folding your arms as Kerry looked back at you. “what about you? Feeling confident?”

“Absolutely,” He grinned, gesturing to himself. “You saw me out there, I got this.”

“Who says I saw you?” You rolled your eyes with a grin. “I was taking a walk, I don't have time to watch you.”

“Right, that walk all around here..where I just happen to be,” Kerry raised a brow. “There's no shame checking me out, I'll take the support.”

You laughed and shook your head,adjusting your arms to sit tighter under your chest. “Can I borrow some of that confidence for my routine?”

“Like you need it,” Kerry rolled his eyes playfully. “You were great out there. Couldn't keep my eyes off you.”

“You're welcome,” You grinned, taking a step closer. “Happy to provide you with some free entertainment.”

“Oh yeah?” Kerry stepped closer too, the distance between you now minimal. “Maybe I can repay the favor.”

“How do you plan to do that?” You asked, looking up at Kerry under your lashes with a grin. “I'm not easily impressed.”

“Then let me try,” Kerry winked, taking a slight step back. “Come by tonight. We're having a party. You can show me some of those moves of yours up close.”

“I'll think about it,” You shrugged, unable to stop the smile on your face. 

“I know you will,” Kerry grinned. “Just try and think about the party too. Be great to see you.”

You did think about it, and you knew you and the girls would absolutely end up at the party but you weren't going to make that known. It was the same with all the Olympic village parties, you and the girls would show up fashionably late, looking drop dead gorgeous and have the best time. 

Kerry's party wouldn't be any exception. Music blasted while you and the girls got ready, drinks flowing as you all perfected yourselves. Technically the athletes weren't supposed to have parties, to drink or smoke or eat burgers or in some people's cases work their way through the countries of the world person by person. But once you all brought home medals, the coaches were willing to look the other way now and then.

You were feeling pretty buzzed when you got to the party, which had spilled out from the apartments onto the grounds. Music was blasting, drinks were flowing, a cup being handed to you as soon as you arrived. You took your besties hand and twirled her around before doing a lap of the party. You waved to some of your fellow team USA athletes, keeping an eye out for Kerry. When you spotted him, you and your bestie kept yourselves within his eyeline, dancing to the music.

It didn't take long until you felt a hand on your back, giving your bestie a grin as you rolled your eyes playfully. You turned around and smiled as you spotted Kerry, resting your hand on your hip.

“Found me then?”

“You're hard to miss when you're looking like this,” Kerry grinned, eyeing you up and down. “Got all eyes on you when you're looking so good.”

“Oh yeah?” You grinned, raising a brow before looking back to your bestie. She took your empty cup before telling you she'd get you another drink, giving you a wink before walking away.

“Seems weird,” You looked back at Kerry, touching the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Seeing you so covered up. I'm used to you in your vests.”

Kerry laughed before taking a sip of his drink, his eyes focused on you. You knew the black mini wrap dress you'd thrown in your suitcase at the last minute was a good idea. 

“Is that your way of saying you prefer me half naked?” Kerry teased.

“Absolutely not,” You raised a brow with a grin. “Why would I prefer half naked to the whole thing?”

Before he could respond, you held out your hand with a grin, tilting your head slightly.

“Come dance with me.”

“Yes ma'am.”

You turned once Kerry's hand was on yours, leading him further into the crowd before turning back and wrapping his arm around you as you swayed against him. He moved his free hand to grip your waist, holding you flush against him. The music felt louder, pounding in your ears as you moved your body to the rhythm. 

Kerry leaned down to kiss your neck, your head falling back against his shoulder as your hands moved over his, your heart racing as warmth flooded you. For all your teasing and flirtations, you'd never gotten so close to him before, felt all of him pressed against you. Really you cursed yourself for not doing it earlier.

 “Didn't know you knew how to dance,” You grinned, slowly stepping forward before turning in Kerry's arms and wrapping your arms around his neck. “You got any other hidden talents?”

“Plenty,” Kerry smirked, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. “Though they ain't gotta stay hidden.”

You gently trailed your fingers through Kerry's hair, smirking slightly as you leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“I hope not. Show me what you got.”

As you felt Kerry's hands move down your body to grab your ass and pick you up, you let out a squeak of excitement as you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

“No time like the present hm?” Kerry smirked, taking a step forward as you held onto him, giving him directions as best as you could, distracted by the feel of him against your already soaked panties.

You were feeling desperate by the time you reached Kerry's bedroom, weaving through the heated crowd who in a few days wouldn't be smoking, drinking and dry humping on couches, the world watching respectable athletes at the peak of their prowess.

The feeling of a solid door behind your back snapped you from your thoughts, you met Kerry's eyes and moved your hands to touch his neck.

“Come on then,” You murmured with a grin. “whip out your talents.”

Kerry laughed before he leaned in to kiss you, to your unexpected surprise. You had often thought about how it might feel, knowing it was inevitable. It turned out to be better than you could have ever imagined. He tasted like beer and a hint of cigarettes, his lips soft against yours. His hands were still gripping your ass, and you didn't object to it when his fingers found the waistband of your panties. 

“Put me down, I'll take them off,” You groaned into the kiss, your hands moving to grip Kerry's curls. “ruined anyway.”

After a moment, Kerry slowly set you down, and you broke the kiss just long enough to reach under your dress before Kerry's arm touched yours.

“No,” He met your eyes before glancing down, his hand moving down your arm to slip under your dress and touch your wrist. “Let me.”

You managed a nod, watching Kerry sink to his knees before you. He slowly reached under your dress, fingers digging into the waistband of your panties. He tugged them down slowly, his eyes held on yours. 

“Fuck,” You murmured softly as you noticed the size of the wet spot on your panties, now pooled at your feet.

“Not a bad start,” Kerry grinned as he looked down and reached for the hem of your dress. “But you can do better. Get this off for me, will you?”

You took a breath as you reached for the hem of your dress, your fingers brushing against Kerry's. It took some serious self control to slowly peel your dress up over your head and not just rip it away. When you were left standing in just your bra, your heart raced as you met Kerry's eyes, a smirk on his face.

“Good girl,” He murmured softly, his hands moving along your thighs. “So obedient, ain't you?”

As much as you wanted to give a sassy little retort, you found yourself distracted by some primal part of your mind for a moment, lifting your leg up slowly and draping it over Kerry's shoulder. You smirked slightly as you noticed he was caught off guard, tilting your head slightly. 

“Waiting for someone to wave you in?” You teased, reaching for your bra strap and slowly tugging it down your shoulder.

“Don't be a brat,” Kerry grinned, hooking his arm around your leg as he leaned in and placed a soft kiss to your wet center. You closed your eyes as he slowly locked a stripe up to your clit, your heart racing. Your hand moved to grip his hair, a gasp escaping you as you felt Kerry's hand grip your thigh.

As he slowly licked along your wet folds, you tried to steady your breathing, opening your eyes and glancing down. The sight of Kerry buried between your legs had you weak, gripping his hair tighter as he moved his free hand between your legs. The pads of his fingers brushed over your entrance, the teasing getting to you. 

“Gotta be patient, darlin’” Kerry murmured against you, lapping at your clit as you let out a moan. You wished you hadn't waited so damn long to get him between your legs, but you were determined to make up for lost time.

Kerry's fingers sweeping over your entrance drew back your attention, your high feeling closer as he slowly pushed a digit into you.

“Fuck,” You groaned, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. You gripped Kerry's hair as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, your heart racing as you felt the high closing in on you. 

You weren't sure if you screamed or if the sound caught in your throat when you came, the feeling of it hit you harder than you expected and had you seeing stars. It took a moment to register Kerry standing up and holding your waist, your body slowly coming back down to earth.

You took a breath as you met his eyes, knowing he'd give you anything in the world in that moment if you asked.

“Kiss me,” You murmured softly, reaching for the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer until his lips were against yours. You could taste yourself on his lips, addicted to it immediately. You grabbed at the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and letting out a gasp when he pulled back. His shirt was on the floor in a flash, and you watched as he began removing the rest of his clothes. When he was down to his boxers, he reached for the waistband before pausing and looking at you with a smirk. 

“Not gonna be the only naked one,” He grinned, gesturing to your bra, just about still on you. “Fair is fair.”

“Then come even the playing field,” You teased, toying with the strap of your bra and letting out an excited shriek when Kerry was on you in a heartbeat. He kissed your neck as his arms weapon around you, his fingers making swift work of ridding you of your bra. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting out a soft breath as he pulled back to look at you.

“Feeling okay?” He asked, eyes searching yours.

“Better than okay,” You grinned, leaning in to kiss him. His arms wrapped around your waist before he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. “As long as you keep doing what you're doing.”

“Oh yeah?” Kerry murmured against your lips, smirking as he walked over to the neatly made bed and promptly tossed you down on it. “You mean something like that?”

“I suppose so,” You rolled your eyes with a grin as you propped yourself up on your elbows and glanced at the bed.

“Wow..I guess these things are a little sturdier than they wanted us to think.”

“I'm happy to test them out,” Kerry grinned, standing at the end of the bed and watching you keenly.

“See what they're made of.”

You sat up a little, eyeing Kerry with a smirk.

“We can do that..if you ever take off those damn shorts. Are they glued to you or something?”

“Not necessarily,” Kerry grinned, snapping  waistband. “Just like making you wait.”

“Kerry Von Erich,” You raised a brow, giving him a pseudo serious look. “you can either take those shorts off or get the hell out.”

“You gonna kick me outta my own bedroom?” Kerry teased, stepping closer to the bed. “doesn't seem fair to me.”

You laid back down on the bed, stretching your arms up for a moment. 

“Doesn't have to be fair. Your choice, I can always do this without you.”

“Well as much as I would love to see that,” Kerry grinned, his hands moving to his waistband. “It ain't gonna be necessary. Get on your knees for me like a good girl.”

“Yes sir,” You grinned, rolling onto your stomach and slowly drawing your knees up to expose yourself to Kerry. A thrill shot down your spine as you felt the mattress dip, taking a breath as you felt Kerry's hand gently stroke the back of your thigh.

“You gonna spread these for me?” 

You were pretty sure your arousal was dripping onto the bed as you spread your legs wider, your heart racing. What you expected was to feel Kerry's hand grip your waist, feel his throbbing dick tease your entrance, what you didn't expect was to feel his tongue lapping at your wet folds once again. 

“Kerry,” You moaned, clutching at the tightly tucked sheets. “I..”

“What's the matter?” Kerry murmured behind you, his hand moving slowly across your thigh, fingers brushing against your hot core. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Very funny,” You scoffed, taking a breath as you felt Kerry's hand move between your legs, fingers replacing his tongue. “I'm just wondering if you're going to fuck me or if I need to do it myself.”

“Would you prefer that?” Kerry asked softly, placing a soft kiss to your back as his fingers slowly spread you open.

“I..I'll take what I can get,” You murmured in response, heat riding in your abdomen. “But I suppose you're the preferable option.”

“Lucky me,” Kerry chuckled, slowly easing his fingers from you and patting your raised ass.

“What are we waiting for?”

“You tell me,” You grinned, looking over your shoulder and moving your ass back towards Kerry. “I'm running out of patience here.”

Kerry shook his head with a grin, gently touching your hip as he met your eyes.

“Turn over then. I wanna see your face.”

You felt your heart race at the comment but tried not to let it show, instead giving Kerry a nod before you moved onto your back, taking a breath. 

“Is this okay?” Kerry asked, the sincerity in his eyes making you smile. 

“It could be even better,” You grinned, your arms moving around Kerry's neck. “But yes, it's okay.”

Kerry grinned at your answer, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that felt like it should have taken place on a beach at sunset and not on a flimsy cardboard bed in the Olympic village but you weren't going to complain.

For all your bravado and teasing, you felt like you and Kerry were teenagers again. You had known each other since you were teenagers, of course. Always had an eye on each other, thought about what it could be like.

And now that it was happening, you felt like it was just as exhilarating and passionate and fun as you imagined it would be. Your legs wrapped around Kerry's waist as he gently moved in you, his lips kissing a trail along your neck.

As much as you would never admit it, you were pleasantly surprised that Kerry took it a little slow at first, getting you used to the feeling. And when you let him know he could take it a little further he didn't hesitate, pushing your legs apart and burying himself deeper, but keeping a slow pace that had you melting into the bed.

When you felt like you were falling closer to the edge, you pushed Kerry onto his back, climbing on top of him and letting out a moan as you let yourself sink down onto him, taking a moment to enjoy the feeling, to feel his hands on your waist, his eyes burning onto you.

You weren't sure how you managed to go so long without giving in when it felt so good, your nails digging into Kerry's chest as you rode him towards your high, the sounds of his moans and cries of your name drawing you closer and closer, you leaned to down to kiss him as you felt the wave build, the most wonderful sensation taking over you before you let a shriek.

Not due to your (impending) orgasm, but rather due to the bed proving itself to be as unstable as intended. 

You clung to Kerry as the bed crumpled underneath you both, the blankets curling around you. There was silence for a moment before you both erupted into laughter.

“Guess they really are trying to stop us this year,” Kerry grinned, gently stroking your back. “too little too late though.”

“Oh we're not done yet,” You grinned, carefully getting up before walking over to the wardrobe and leaning against it, giving a light knock on the wood.

“Reckon we could break this too?”

“I think we could certainly try,” Kerry grinned, getting up and walking over to you, his arms pulling you close. “what have we got to lose?”

[juuuulez]

📰 | part three: capulet.

info: Saviour!Reader x Carl Grimes, no pronouns used in this particular issue, no use of (y/n), enemies to lovers, violence, slight graphic description of blood.

summary: You return to Alexandria solo for some supplies, but Rick decides to protest. After a minor altercation, you make things even with Carl.

previous | next

Another part!! This one includes a little bit of violence, but nothing uncommon to TWD universe. Next chapter will be similar, it finally getting a bit more exciting.

Roughly a week later, and you’re back.

The metal gates open with a loud screech, you hold yourself with poise facing the citizens of Alexandria, metal bat swinging gently at your side.

Word spreads quickly, and as you’re speaking with the man appointed with keeping guard, a small crowd begins to form. Everybody appears to be slightly on edge, especially after last weeks debacle where their guns were confiscated.

Eventually, Rick approaches, squinting to combat the midday sun.

“Where’s Negan?” He asks, holding a hand up to his eyes. A little behind him is Carl and Michonne.

You look behind you, over your shoulder, then back at the older man. “Not here, obviously.”

It’s snarky, immature, but tone that suits you best.

Fact is, you’d come here alone. No Negan, no Simon, no Dwight. It was a solo mission. However, ‘mission’ was a bit of an overstatement, seeing as you simply needed a few medical supplies in particular you were unable to get from the Hilltop. Antihistamines, to be exact. Not that big of a deal.

“I’m sure one of your little goons can show me to your medical facilities,” You say, giving a half-hearted gesture towards the small crowd of people watching. “Got some shit to grab.”

But Rick only shakes his head, “I don’t answer to you. We don’t answer to you.”

It makes you furrow your brows, slowly approaching, alike to a predator stalking it’s prey. Anybody at the Sanctuary knew that talking back wasn’t an option, and you were more than happy to teach these people a lesson.

“Oh, but you do,” You lean in as you speak, using body language to intimidate despite your visibly small presence, “See, you answer to Negan. Then there’s me, and then there’s the rest of the Saviours. You, your people, are at the very bottom of this food-chain.”

Rick doesn’t let up, tilting his head ever so slightly with your speech, challenging your authority in a way that didn’t happen very often anymore. “I don’t think so. No Negan, no supplies. That was the deal.”

Then he begins to walk away, causing you to rush a few steps forward to close the gap. “Hey, asshole!” You shout at him, blocking the path, “That’s not your choice to make. I’m giving you instructions, so you listen. You got a problem with that?”

The open defiance is causing you to loose your temper, more so when Rick only takes a step closer to you, looking down as if you were nothing; insignificant. Barely a leader.

“Y’know, an inability to follow basic goddamn instructions is what got your friend killed,” And there you go, running your mouth. But it works, you can feel the power beginning to slip back into your hands. “So you can either ignore me, and learn that lesson again, or do as you’re told so that their worthless lives didn’t completely achieve nothi—“

You don’t get to finish, as before you know it, you’re on the ground. There’s a stinging pain in your cheek, and you gag around a mouthful of spit, mucus and blood. It lands on the concrete with a wet smack, a tiny white pearl sitting amongst the maroon slime.

It’s a little jarring, to be honest. Rick looks surprised, himself, like he hadn’t intended to lash out. To punch a Saviour. Then Michonne is talking to him, but you aren’t listening, too focused on the fact that oh my god, he punched you.

When Michonne takes a step forward, you actually flinch, steeling your heels against the floor (when had you stood up again) and preparing for altercation. But she doesn’t move any closer, and you’re mentally scrambling to piece together this situation, to retrieve the power you’d just lost.

You clench your jaw, speaking with an unusual amount of composure for someone dripping blood from their teeth. “Now, I’ll be taking what I came here for.”

A few steps down the road, and you get an idea, gesturing off towards Carl, who stands there shocked at everything that’s just occurred. “And I’ll be taking the boy.”

Michonne steps forward to protest, “No, I can go. Please, just leave him—“

“Don’t care!” You shout, not even bothering to look backwards as you disembark down the streets of Alexandria, in the vague direction of where you presume their medical facilities to be. Much to your pleasure, there’s the telltale sound of footsteps behind you: Carl following.

Eventually, you make it to the small building, what seems to be a house transformed into a makeshift doctors quarters. It’s pristine, white-picket fence matches that of the neighbourhood.

You let yourself in, Carl following behind you. The first order of business: clean your face. There’s a slight throbbing feeling where the tooth had become dislodged, blood sticking around the edges of your cheeks and pooling underneath your tongue.

There’s a small sink where you lean over, spitting the liquid into it, splattering all over the porcelain bowl.

“Will you tell Negan?” Carl suddenly speaks up, from the other side of the room. So far, you hadn’t heard anything from him, and couldn’t particularly judge his reaction to that event. But he doesn’t sound angry, if anything a little subdued, nervous.

You choose to ignore him, already moving across the room, throwing open cabinets, “You ever get hay fever?”

If you were looking, you’d see the annoyance that crossed Carl’s face at being brushed off like this, but he answers nonetheless, “No.”

Clicking your tongue, you continue the search, flipping bottles and packets of different medications, trying to seek out something familiar. His lacklustre reply fades into background noise.

Eventually you figure out that there’s some sort of system, alphabetical, which aids in the mission of locating the antihistamines. You grab a few packets, stuffing them into the little cross-body bag you’d brought along. This should work perfectly.

“This place is stocked to the teeth,” You comment, closing the cabinet and instead scouring the rest of the room, “Raid a pharmacy or something?”

This casual conversation feels out of place, putting Carl on edge. He can’t understand how you work, how you think. What exactly is wrong with you. Why aren’t you angry? Yelling at him, or frustrated with what just happened. He just presumed everything you say has an ulterior motive.

“Uh.. yeah, a while back.” He answers with a shrug, deciding to be honest, but vague. That, and he didn’t particularly want to think about that, as it had lead to the death of one of their people. All this medical equipment, with no doctor to administer it.

But you don’t respond, despite being the one to ask the question. It’s becoming evident that you don’t necessary know how to carry a conversation like this. You will speak whatever’s on your mind, express the thought, and then be done with it. Move onto the next thing. Getting any sort of information out of you will be difficult.

It’s lucky that Carl was determined.

“Are you going to tell Negan?” He asks again, still standing on the opposite side of the room, “About what my dad did?”

This time, you give some semblance of recognition, in the form of a vague shrug. Now, you’re standing in front of that basin again, mouth open and staring into a mirror to try and find which tooth had been chipped. Feels like one near the back.

For some reason, Carl takes your silence as permission to speak.

“He shouldn’t of done that,” He continues, looking out the window facing the street, “Sometimes… he just doesn’t think, and makes stupid choices. It must be tunnel vision or something.”

Finally, you turn to Carl, blood still smeared on your fingers and bottom lip from where you’d been prodding around at your mouth.

“What happens when people have braces, now?” You ask, completely off topic, “There are barely any doctors, let alone dentists. Can you even get braces off by yourself?”

Carl feels completely confused, unable to follow this strange string of ideas and questions. He’s unsure if he should be preparing for backlash from Negan, or you, and this isn’t doing anything to help.

“Are you concussed, or something?” He finally asks, the tiniest bit of frustration and annoyance dripping into his tone, making the question sound less genuine and more sarcastic.

This is something you could work with. A tone you were familiar with, an emotion you knew how to handle.

“No, asshole. It was a basic question, why can’t you understand?” You spit, eyes narrowing at Carl, a complete 180 from your previously nonchalant behaviour, “You may actually be stupider than you look.”

This works to rile Carl up, becoming irritated with this entire situation, “Why did you even bring me here? It’s not like you actually needed my help.”

You roll your eyes, washing the blood and spit from your hands. “I just wanted to scare Rick, that’s all. Make him think that maybe I’m torturing you, or something.”

“So, you are angry with him?” Carl asks, feeling like he was finally getting somewhere with this conversation. But you don’t answer, now focused on cleaning the blood from where the skin of your cheek had split, a place that would likely start bruising within a few minuets.

Carl wasn’t an idiot. He remembered earlier, when Negan had attempted to get Rick to cut his hand off, as a show of submission. He knew what would happen, he wasn’t stupid. The only way to control Rick was through him, his son. If Negan found out about this, he’d be the one to get hurt.

He was a little bit scared.

Then, you’re actually looking at Carl. Well, through the mirror, watching as he stands a few feet behind you, leaning against the wall. But it’s the first time you’ve really looked at him this whole time.

“Rick ever hit you?” You’re asking him, and Carl is shocked by the moment of civility. That critical, observational look in your gaze, like you’re actively trying to decipher any reaction.

“No, no,” Carl answers quickly, not wanting you to get the wrong idea, “No, my dad… he’d never do anything to hurt me. He’s not that type of person.”

You seem satisfied enough with this answer, pursing your lips and applying a band-aid over the little scrape. Though you say nothing, Carl accepts this as a rare moment of genuine concern for a peer. If he’d even consider you a peer… technically you held a lot more power than he did, which is maybe why the idea of you looking out for him was surprisingly comfortable.

After drying off your hands, you finally spin around to face Carl, leaning back on the porcelain basin.

“I’m not telling Negan that Rick punched me.” You say, both face and tone unfeeling, not giving away any sort of emotion or indication to what you’re truely thinking.

Then you approach Carl, and despite the unheated conversation, it’s the way you usually move. Slow, stalking. “However, I’ve gotta tell him something. So.. he can think that you punched me.”

Carl feels his throat tighten, shocked at the decision you’d somehow come to. “How is that any better?” He asks, trying not to flinch away as you come closer, your feet now almost touching.

“Negan won’t punish a kid for.. well, being a kid,” You reason with a shrug, “But he will punish Rick for acting like a child. And we both know exactly what he would do.”

It doesn’t take a genius to understand the insinuation. You are just as aware that Negan views Carl as a pawn, something used to control Rick and keep him in line. Whatever Rick does wrong, Carl would have to face the brunt of the punishment.

But before he can speak, you’re talking again.

“To make this believable, I will have to hit you.”

“What?” Carl does flinch back at this point, eyeing you like you’ve suddenly grown a second head.

“Okay, listen,” You interject, not wanting him to immediately clam up and scurry away, “Nobody would believe that I didn’t land anything on you. Especially if you knocked one of my teeth out. So, work with me here.”

It sounds absolutely insane. But, at the same time… it sounds pretty reasonable. It could be much worse, Carl decides, if the whole cutting off his arm thing was anything to go by.

So, he agrees.

“Fine.”

A grin spreads on your face, taking a small step backwards. You shift your stance slightly, preparing to make your mark on the boy. And, deep down, maybe you take a little satisfaction in being able to do this.

“Palm or fist?” You have the decency of asking him.

“Palm.” Carl answer’s immediately.

So, you do just that. It’s one swift slap across his cheekbone, the one not hidden by the bandage. It echoes through the empty room, leaving a stinging sensation on your open palm, and likely a worse one on his face.

“Jesus Christ,” He swears, holding a hand up to his cheek, cradling the red mark you’d just placed there, “That felt worse than a punch.”

You give him a firm pat on the shoulder, “You’ll be fine. It’s good to learn how to take a firm slap from a girl, you should get used to it.”

And with that, you’re collecting your bag once more, content with the fruits of your little mission. Carl is almost shocked at how easily you move on, and he’s sure that there is something deeper to your strange behaviour.

Not that it matters right now.

He hangs back a little, watching you leave the building before searching for an ice pack for his sore face.

Despite the fact that you’d hit him, Carl can’t help but feel a little better about the whole situation. In the end, you’d only done it to evade any sort of larger punishment. To avoid getting Carl seriously hurt. Which felt good to know, that you were capable of some form of rational thinking.

Hopefully next time he could continue to decipher whatever was going on in your head.

a/n: LOL this took me a few days! i hope you like it, i’m definitely happy that things are getting a little more interesting now. let me know what you think!!!

[laurajameskinney]

like 95% of it is stupid so im not going to get into it publicly beyond vagueposting but im just like Unhand themmmmm

nothing worse than the fact that the only person who is both also into the xkids and is unrelated to me is someone i have like terminal beef with

[love-lilly02]

BTS: The Book, The Braids, and The Boy

Simon riley understood everything. 

That was an overstatement, there were a few things he didn’t understand. Like some of the things Soap said, or certain aspects of old english. That in of itself was something he didn’t get, how he was british and couldn’t understand old english, but dwelling on it too much made his head hurt. 

So he didn’t think about it, and instead convinced himself that he understood absolutely everything. 

Which is why it was so odd to him that he couldn’t understand you. 

For months after your release, as he had come to call it, his mind was absolutely enraptured with you. He knew the army was tough, an experience not many people could handle, but to watch it change a woman from a literal ray of sunshine to the darkest night in as little as a few months… unnerving to him. Something about it didn’t sit right with him, like there were some pieces missing somewhere. 

He couldn’t find the pieces. that made him even more uncomfortable. Something about you had changed, and he didn’t know what it was. 

Which is why he took advantage of every chance he had. He’d say good morning, help you during training. Granted, he had to keep his efforts to a minimum, as fraternization within ranks was prohibited. 

It had never stopped him before. 

Ghost sat in the rec room, sipping on a mug of black coffee solemnly. A thick volume on a topic he wasn’t interested in sat in front of him, but anyone paying attention knew it had been opened to the same page for the past five minutes. His thoughts lay somewhere else, with someone else. 

And that someone just so happened to walk into the room. 

He heard the sound of your platform shoes before he saw you in the corner of his eye, trailing his gaze up along flared blue jeans and an old knit sweater that had to belong to someone much larger than you, judging by the way it was hanging off of your frame. You were standing in front of the coffee machine, waiting on it to heat up. On the counter next to you sat a large book, though he couldn’t see the cover. 

“Didn’t know you drink coffee,” He murmured, pretending to be interested in his book. Instead of focusing on the words his eyes drifted to your hair, which was pulled back into two thick braids. 

“It’s tea, lieutenant. Coffee isn’t my style.” The rec room goes quiet for a moment, before the loud laughter of some of the recruits is heard down the hall. 

He recognizes the voice, and if the way  your hands tense against the counter is any indication, you do too. Josh and his merry band of idiots storm into the room, screaming loudly. Once they see their lieutenant, however, the noise reduces significantly. 

Josh’s attention flicks to you for a moment, and he smirks. “Those braids make you look like a child,” He says, waving his hand through the air as if it’s an every day compliment. You don’t say anything at the jab, but the words hit Simon’s ear like a gunshot. 

“Watch your mouth, rook.” He hisses, giving the man a glare. Josh just smiles innocently, or as innocently as he can manage. 

“It was simply an observation, sir. No harm meant.” Simon accepts the answer, even though Josh is obviously lying. He watches in vain as you leave the room, taking your mug and book with you. 

He only sees you once more that day, a quick run-in through the halls. 

He can’t help but notice that the braids are gone.

AN: have some insight on simon’s POV for your day🙇🏾‍♂️

that cliff hanger might get fixed next week by the way

might.

My Masterlist<333

[dysfunctionallygrey]

Do you have any cool Pokemon headcanons???}

ME???

POKEMON HEADCANNONS!???

*explodes*

(sorry for the late reply BTW)

Here are some I don't really see often, and one I consider very interesting and not too thought of:

Pokemon Schooling headcannons!

(For the champions specifically, Under the cut!)

Red

He finished public elementary school and then immediately disappeared for the mountains. Literally living my dream.

What else does he need.

Blue

Continued schooling at a private high-school while being a gym leader, then went to uni in Kalos to be a Pokémon professor.

Lance

Homeschooled from elementary to high school by his dragon clan. Then went to a private prestigious university in Galar (The same one Cynthia and Steven would eventually go to.)

Wallace

(He counts, he's the champion of my heart)

Secular Private school kid, all his life. (like meeee) Probably didn't go to university in favor of Contests, since he blew up in popularity around his mid teens.

Steven

Rich kid, private elementary school, private international school abroad and then abroad again to a uni in Galar. (all non secular)

Cynthia

Her family is rich but not that rich, Public elementary school and then secular private high school. Then obviously abroad in Galar.

Alder!!

I imagine a small schoolhouse for him in Floccessy town, where he schooled for elementary where his mom taught at. I don't think he got any higher schooling than that because I headcannon he went on his Pokémon journey on his teens and kept the title of champion for a long while.

N

(If I'm counting Wallace I'm counting him too)

Homeschooled.

Actually homeschooling is an overstatement. He learned maths, of course. Ghetsis probably found out he was a genius in maths and fed into it because he thought it would be useful for later.

Then how to read and write, some basic words and simple things and then the rest was just blatant propaganda to brainwash N into thinking all Pokémon trainers suck.

Iris!!!

She reeks of homeschooled kid whose spark hasn't been crushed by bullies. A very outdoorsy girl who goes out to play, do her workbooks for an hour and then pop out to play or train even more.

For high-school though I think she'd attend Blueberry academy.

Diantha

I'm not saying she's a nepo baby, but she is a non-secular private school kid who went to Uni in Kalos.

Professor Kukui

Public Elementary school, Public highschool, scholarship to a fancy schmancy private university.

Leon.

Hear me out:

ACE kid.

He became champion really young so he probably didnt go to normal school as a kid, so ACE it was. He was enrolled there, but he never really showed up except if you counted him coming in once a month to get his Paces and pace tests

For the uninformed, Ace is a school system focused on self learning.

They give you a short workbook called a PACE that is essentially a week or twos worth of lessons, a goal chart that you have to set yourself which is basically a little calendar where you write your goal page, usually 3 - 5 pages and then you finish it at the end of the day.

If you are ever done with a goal or page, you go to the scoring station and then score it yourself.

Once you're done, you immediately take a test for all the stuff you learned.

That's basically the gist of it, but Leon would do his Paces in between training sessions, once the week was over, the finished paces and pace tests would go to the teacher to be graded.

Geeta

She went to Naranja/Uva and it kinda strikes me as a good private school with functioning bathrooms so we'll go with that.

Holy fuck that was a lot I hope you and the 5 people enjoyed

[demonio-fleurs]

Nico Robin & The Light of Revolution

Warning: Spoilers for the Egghead Arc + Manga

One thing that has always interested me since watching One Piece for the first time is the epithet that the Revolutionary Army has given Robin— “The Light of Revolution”/“The Light of The Revolution”.

Obviously, the epithet makes sense for Robin. She’s been on the run from the World Government for over twenty-two years, for the crime of existing while being able to read the Poneglyphs. She is, in a sense, a symbol of what is wrong with the way the world currently works in One Piece. When people can be labeled as a criminal for no other reason than being able to read a specific language, something is broken and wrong.

And when we got to Egghead, we learned that not only did Dragon know Professor Clover, but he also visited Ohara to pay his respects, and Ohara was the triggering point for him in forming the Revolutionary Army. This knowledge answered some questions about the Revolutionary Army and their connection to Robin, but to me it also posed a question that is currently unanswered:

If Ohara was the triggering point for Dragon, then why does Bunny Joe say that they’ve only been looking for Robin for “over” ten years, and not twenty?

So far we haven’t seen anything to hint that they’ve been looking for Robin for longer, so why did it take Dragon so long to have the Army search for her?

This question has been bubbling around in my brain for a while, but a few weeks ago I was going through the Library of Ohara’s timeline in order to put together a more focused timeline for the Revolutionary Army to use as a reference for myself when writing. And while going through, I noticed something interesting that might actually explain why Robin was called the Light of Revolution when she did.

You see, the Rev Army only started calling Robin the Light of Revolution around roughly 12 years ago (Or more, but I think 12-14 years ago is the most likely range), and that was around two years after Ginny was kidnapped and enslaved by the Celestial Dragons.

I don’t think it’s an overstatement to say that Ginny was a very popular and important member of the Revolutionary Army. She joined at the same time as Kuma, one of the known founding members, and was very close to him. She was the Captain of their Eastern Forces. She was also very popular among the members of the Rev Army, with members even openly lamenting her affection towards Kuma and not them,

Her capture was probably both a pivotal moment for the Rev Army, and also a gut punch in terms of morale. It was known that Ginny had caught the eye of a Celestial Dragon, and it was (probably) one of the first times that one of their (the Rev Army) high ranking officers was captured. If someone so high up can get captured and enslaved, what about the rest of the army? And what does that line of thinking do to an army made up of former slaves and victims of the world’s nobles?

And most importantly, when such a thing happens, how do you inspire your army once more? What can you give them to distract them from those harsh realities and keep them focused on their goal?

It’s simple: You give them hope. You give them something to fight for.

I think that it was after Ginny’s capture that Dragon told the Revolutionary Army about Robin, and Ohara, and asked them to look for her. And I think she was given that epithet—The Light of Revolution— to give the army something to fight for. Something tangible that they can hold onto, and a goal that they can accomplish. “We might not have been able to save Ginny, but maybe we can save this girl” line of thinking.

As for why Dragon didn’t come right out and have that be a goal for the Rev Army from day one, well… I’ll admit I’m still mulling about trying to think of the answer to that. Although we’ve learned so much about Dragon in the Egghead arc, he still feels like an enigma to me. Could it have been out of respect for Ohara? Did he want to wait for the right time? I’m not entirely sure— but I welcome other people’s theories!