#the other half is all the other groups i listen to

[redjennies]

*long sigh*

all right this is one of my most resurrected posts and to be quite honest, i think most people get what I'm saying here, but it could be clarified because the second it gets away from a circle of people who get it, people seem to lose the thread pretty quick. it was about a trend I noticed regarding the types of fans C3 was both attracting and whose voices were being heavily elevated within the fandom. with the campaign ending, it only feels right to say my final piece about it and be done with it.

first, this post is about whose stories and voices are centered in fandom. it is not about the cast (though having a predominantly white, culturally Christian, US American cast does influence it because they are telling stories from that lens.) it is not even really about the characters, themselves, and whether this is. it's about the fans, and specifically, it is about the lack of compassion and desire to understand, I see a particular type of white (often for lack of better word, "WASP"-y: raised middle class, culturally Christian, and/or US American/English/Canadian/etc) queer fan extend to anyone who falls out of an extremely narrow lens of "this is the default queer experience" or heaven forbid, to people who are not queer but are marginalized in other ways.

it is about how this phenomenon happens because they have been trained to see their queerness as their only identity (and therefore, in their arrogance, the only identity that matters) as it is the only thing about them that deviates from that WASP-y "default." through this lens, stories that are not relatable to that audience are largely ignored unless they are exceptional enough to be the "Academy-Approved POC Film of the Year" to be tokenized by white liberal audiences and stories that do touch on queerness but are primarily about other things like race/class/disability/etc are whitewashed into something more palatable for that hegemonic "default" audience to the point where it is practically unrecognizable from the original story. this is not unique to CR. this happens across all audiences and therefore, all fandoms.

clearly, this phenomenon leads to a problem in fandoms. if we are not extending empathy to the characters and stories that discuss perspectives that may be different than our own, than we will not be extending empathy to the real breathing humans who see their experiences (or the experiences of people they have known) in those stories. there was this post or article about why we need better POC representation that I read way back in the day and have never been able to find again that really stuck with me that said something along the lines of "we don't need representation because no black person can relate to George Costanza or Rachel Green. we already do. the problem is that white writers and audiences do not relate to black people and that shows through the kind of black characters white writers create." and I think that sentiment is relevant to what I'm getting at here. a lot of white queer fans on tumblr are often half-listening when a story is told, choosing to only pay attention when things are about them because at the end of the day, they have the privilege to do so. therefore, the fanworks they create reflects that lack of interest. the metas and fanon they write reflect that lack of interest. soon enough, the fandom itself reflects that lack of interest.

and worse yet, because queer people are an oppressed group (and to clarify, I don't want to come across like I'm saying just because we're white queers, we're not "really oppressed" or whatever), this lack of interest and compassion for people who are different than you becomes actively celebrated in fandom spaces. you have relatively privilege white queer people on tumblr loudly proclaiming characters only matter if they're gay, stories only matter if they're queer, and so on and so on. which on some level is fine if you prioritize reading and watching stories that have to do with queerness, but you do need to be aware of a massive bias you may have to what "queer stories" even are and how you are interacting with them and who you are leaving out. a great example of this is why every time there's a black bisexual male love interest in a video game, y'all keep calling him "too straight" and therefore "boring" and then getting mad and defensive when someone calls you on it. like I mean-- hit dogs holler. ¯\_(*ツ)_/¯

anyway, I was going to close with tying this concept back into CR and how there was a rot that permeated C3 and how this attitude straight up alienated a lot of fans. (god knows I got shouted out of this fandom until it got so dully unpleasant that I couldn't bring myself to give a damn anymore, and sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, I hope everyone who participated in the near constant harassment I received for the great crime of maybe being annoying as I made my little jokes and shared my thoughts has a bad fucking life. fuck you. learn how to use the block button.) but @utilitycaster who has been following this campaign as well as other actual play shows a lot more closely than I have already touched on that in a pretty dead-on post that I highly recommend.

so here is what I will end on, the phenomenon I've been describing throughout this post is in no uncertain terms, a form of bigotry, and as far as the people who have to live with that oppression are concerned, a queer bigot is not any less harmful than a straight bigot, in the same way a female bigot is not any less harmful than a male bigot. so if you sincerely want to your spaces to be more inclusive and aren't just saying that to "do a leftism," you have to accept your own part in that, regardless of who you are. you have to stop and pay attention to what kind of perspectives you might be ignoring, and stop immediately shouting at people because you interpreted what they said in bad faith. you have to learn how to just shut up sometimes and be a little reflective. i'm not always great at that, but it's a skill you have to practice even if you fuck up. you can always change your mind with new information and new ideas and new perspectives, but if you instinctively chase off everyone who might be willing to talk about something you've never considered before because you're more concerned about being right than learning, you're going to get a rot in your community that is really hard to get rid of once it festers enough. because if you've been told your whole life that the rot is the default and that it is normal and that it's the way it should be, you're never going to notice it's even there.

tbh the Critical Role fandom, along with most fandoms, has a problem with centering easily digestible metaphors for white queer experiences (and even then only those that check all the boxes of the purity list) at the cost of seeing stories through the lens of race, class, mental and physical disabilities and how those can intersect with queer experiences.

for example, putting an unnecessary amount of effort into proving Jester's attraction to Fjord is compulsory heterosexuality while ignoring that Fjord and Jester were both explicitly biracial characters from different class backgrounds and how that class difference intersected with their self image. a general refusal to really interact with Chetney as a character that is heavily coded as mentally ill and uninterested in being "cured." Veth being deemed the token straight Karen despite being a young rural mother of color struggling with addiction and having an arc that was heavily coded as trans, and Ashton, a nonbinary lower class punk with chronic pain, being considered just a man when it comes to ship wars. etc, etc.

[theetherealbloom]

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.4

Chapter Four: Everybody Wonders What It Would Be Like To Love You

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Starstruck, Bullying, Physicological Bullying, Mean Girls,

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: Heads up, there’s a bully in this chapter but dw, you got Pedro on your side hehe. Again, this is all fictional. To any Cecilia’s out there in irl, no hate to you girl, I don’t even know you LOL.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: gold rush by Taylor Swift

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PINEWOOD STUDIOS — MORNING  

The hum of set life surrounded you like a familiar melody—the rhythmic chatter of crew members, the distant clatter of equipment being adjusted, the occasional burst of laughter from someone off-camera. You moved through it all with ease, exchanging quick words with a fellow PA as you double-checked the last-minute details before call time.  

You didn’t notice him watching you.  

Pedro sat in the makeup chair, already in costume, his eyes drifting away from the mirror as Coco worked her hands through his hair. His body was still, but his mind was somewhere else. Or rather—on someone else.  

It was the way you tilted your head as someone from production rattled off instructions, your brows furrowing slightly in concentration. The way you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, nodding once before offering a soft, assured smile. You weren’t just hearing what they were saying—you were listening, absorbing every detail like you belonged here. Like you had always belonged.  

He felt something tighten in his chest.  

God, you made him feel strange.  

It was the words that stuck in his throat when you were near, the way his pulse stuttered for no damn reason. The way his thoughts—usually so steady, so controlled—felt unruly around you. It was dizzying. Unsettling.  

It had been a long time since he’d felt like this. Since he’d been caught so completely off guard by someone.  

And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from looking for you.  

In the crowd. In the moments between takes. In the quiet spaces where he thought maybe—just maybe—you were looking for him, too.

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — AFTERNOON

Lunch break rolled around, bringing a much-needed lull in the day’s chaos. The crew scattered—some retreating to their trailers, others grabbing quick bites from catering, the energy shifting into something looser, more relaxed.  

Your phone buzzed just as you were sitting down at one of the outdoor tables, the screen lighting up with a message.  

Pedro: Wanna grab a bite later?  

You smiled to yourself, thumbs already moving across the screen.  

You: I do, but I kinda wanna hang with my friends for a bit too.  

His response came almost immediately.  

Pedro: Oh yeah, of course. Mind if I tag along?

You hesitated for half a second. Not because you didn’t want him there—but because you weren’t sure if he really wanted to be there.  

You: Are you sure? 

Pedro: Obviously.  

So that’s how Pedro Pascal ended up at lunch with you and your friends, settling into the group like he had always belonged there.  

He was easy to talk to, of course. He charmed his way through introductions, seamlessly jumping into conversations, laughing in all the right places, making everyone feel like they were the most interesting person in the room. But his attention always had a way of drifting back to you.  

The way you scrunched your nose as you tried to pick apart a joke someone had made. The way your eyes lit up as you talked about some old inside story with your friends. The way you were currently demolishing a cookie like it was the best thing you’d ever tasted.  

Pedro noticed.  

He didn’t say anything, but he noticed.  

His lips twitched as you took another enthusiastic bite, completely unaware of his amusement.  

There were other things, too—subtle things. The brush of his knee against yours under the table, lingering just a second longer than necessary. The way his fingers would graze your wrist when he leaned in to say something, as if testing the waters. The way his eyes would flick to your lips when you spoke before quickly darting away, as if he hadn’t meant to.  

And then, of course, there was the teasing.  

"Did you even taste that cookie, or did you just inhale it?" Pedro mused, finally breaking his silence, amusement lacing his voice.  

You swallowed the last bite, leveling him with a mock glare. "It’s really good."  

He smirked. "Clearly."  

"Don’t judge me."  

"Never." The word came softer than expected, a little too sincere for just teasing. His gaze held yours for a beat longer than necessary, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.  

Your heart stuttered.  

He looked away first, but not before you caught the slightest hint of pink creeping up the tips of his ears. It was such a small thing—barely there, really—but you noticed. And it made something warm unfurl in your chest.  

The conversation around the table carried on, your friends swapping stories and teasing each other between bites of food. Pedro chimed in here and there, laughing along, but every now and then, you felt his gaze flick back to you.  

You were hyper-aware of him now. The way his arm rested casually on the back of your chair, not quite touching but close enough that you could feel his warmth. The way his fingers absentmindedly drummed against the table, his other hand occasionally brushing against yours as he reached for his drink.  

Then, he sighed, pulling his phone from his pocket, frowning slightly at the screen.  

"Ugh, my phone’s about to die."  

Without hesitation, you reached into your bag, pulling out your power bank and a charging cord. "Oh, no worries, here—use this."  

Pedro blinked, momentarily caught off guard.  

You handed it over without a second thought, already turning back to your food. But he didn’t move to plug his phone in right away. Instead, he just looked at you, something unreadable in his expression.  

His fingers brushed against yours as he took the charger, his touch lingering just a fraction longer than necessary.  

“You just carry this around with you?” he asked, his voice quieter now, something softer beneath the teasing edge.  

You shrugged, popping another bite of food into your mouth. “Yeah, of course. Never know when you might need it.”  

His lips quirked, but he didn’t say anything right away.  

Instead, he plugged in his phone, then glanced back at you, shaking his head slightly like he couldn’t quite believe you.  

"What?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.  

Pedro exhaled a small laugh, tucking the power bank into his lap like it was something precious. "Nothing. You’re just—" He paused, searching for the right word, before finally settling on, "—thoughtful."  

Something about the way he said it made your stomach flip.  

You swallowed, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his gaze. "It’s just a charger, Pedro."  

"Yeah," he murmured, still watching you. "I know."  

But his expression said something else entirely.

You weren’t sure what to do with that look—the quiet weight of his gaze, the way he seemed to be memorizing you like you were something worth studying. So, instead of dwelling on it, you reached into your bag and pulled out your notepad and pen.

Doodling had always been second nature to you. Something to keep your hands busy while your mind wandered. While your friends continued chatting, their voices washing over you in waves, you let your pen glide over the paper in absentminded strokes.

Pedro, however, wasn’t nearly as distracted.

From the corner of his eye, he watched, his attention flicking between you and the small spirals and shapes forming beneath your fingers. It was mesmerizing in a way he didn’t expect. The way your brow furrowed ever so slightly when you concentrated. The way your pen tapped softly against the pad before committing to a new line.

He shifted in his seat, subtly angling himself so he could get a better look.

It wasn’t just mindless scribbles.

You were sketching. Really sketching.

A rough outline of the restaurant table, the glasses, the crumpled napkins. And just beside that, the faint beginnings of a face—strong jaw, slightly furrowed brows, lips curved at the edges as if they were on the verge of a smirk.

His lips.

Pedro’s throat tightened.

"That me?" he asked, voice pitched just low enough for only you to hear.

Your pen paused mid-stroke, and you glanced up at him, caught. He wasn’t teasing, not really. If anything, there was something almost—fond—about the way he was looking at you.

You shrugged, offering a sheepish smile. "Maybe."

Pedro huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "I didn’t know you could draw."

"It’s just something I do when I’m listening," you admitted, flipping the page like it was nothing.

But he didn’t think it was nothing.

He wanted to say something else, something lighthearted to keep you from looking so shy about it, but before he could, one of your friends called your name, pulling your attention away.

Pedro exhaled, leaning back in his seat, but his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer.

Thoughtful. Talented.

Yeah. He was absolutely in trouble.

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — AFTERNOON

The shift in the air was subtle at first, almost imperceptible.

But you felt it.

It was the way certain conversations would quiet just as you approached. The way people who had once been warm and welcoming now exchanged knowing glances when they thought you weren’t looking. The way whispers followed in your wake, hushed giggles that felt anything but good-natured.

And at the center of it all was Cecilia.

She was the kind of woman people noticed when she walked into a room—stunning, sharp-witted, and utterly ruthless when it came to getting what she wanted.

And for whatever reason, she had decided that you were a problem.

At first, it was small things. A pointed look. A lingering smirk. A brush of her shoulder against yours as she passed by.

But then, it escalated.

"Did you hear?" one of her friends whispered just loud enough as you walked by. "She totally forced her way onto this project. Some kind of nepotism thing, I bet."

"Ugh, so cringe," another voice giggled. "She acts all sweet, but like, we know the truth."

You gritted your teeth, kept your head down, and moved along.

You weren’t stupid. You knew exactly what this was. Psychological warfare disguised as petty gossip. You’d seen it before, and you'd see it again.

The worst part?

You refused to let it get to you.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Pedro noticed.

It started with the way you brushed things off too quickly, like you were trying not to care. The way your usual smiles didn’t quite reach your eyes. The way your laugh—one of his new favorite sounds—had dulled just a fraction, too forced, too polite.

And Pedro wasn’t an idiot.

He saw the way Cecilia and her group slinked around set like vipers, the way their eyes always seemed to flick toward you before whispering behind manicured hands.

It pissed him off.

But when he asked about it, you just waved it away.

“Nothing’s wrong.” You shrugged, reaching for a prop clipboard. “Just tired. Long day.”

Pedro arched a brow. “Really? That’s it?”

“Yep.”

He studied you for a moment, then exhaled through his nose. “You’re a terrible liar.”

That made you scoff. “I am fine.”

“Uh-huh.” He crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. “So, you’re totally cool with the whole… weird vibe around here lately?”

You hesitated. Just for a second.

It was enough.

“Pedro,” you sighed, shaking your head. “It’s not a big deal. I don’t care what they think, okay? It’s just… you know how some people are. They get bored.”

“They get mean,” he corrected.

You frowned, looking away.

He softened, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t suck.”

You swallowed, fingers tightening around the clipboard.

“It doesn’t suck,” you insisted. “Because I don’t care.”

Pedro’s stare was unwavering, but you held your ground.

Because if you admitted it did hurt—if you let yourself feel it—you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop.

And you weren’t going to let them win.

Pedro sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Fine. You don’t care," he murmured. "But if you ever do care… you’ll tell me, right?"

Something in your chest tightened at that.

You forced a small, teasing smile. “Wow, Pedro. That almost sounded like a serious conversation.”

He rolled his eyes but smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it."

And just like that, the tension cracked, relief flickering behind his gaze.

For now, he’d let you pretend you were fine.

But he’d also be watching.

TWO DAYS BEFORE THE WEEKEND…

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — MORNING

The next two days were a slow, grating kind of miserable.

It started with small things—so small that if you weren’t paying attention, you might have convinced yourself they were nothing. The way conversations would quiet just as you walked past, the barely-concealed laughter from across the room, the occasional, suspiciously misplaced item that had definitely been right where you left it.

It was the kind of thing that chipped away at you in small, insidious ways.

Like the way Cecilia and her friends would conveniently stand right where you needed to go, their backs turned but their voices just loud enough.

“I swear, some people just don’t belong here.”

You’d walk past without reacting, even as the words burrowed under your skin.

Or the way your neatly organized stack of call sheets had been mysteriously scattered all over the breakroom counter when you came back from a coffee run. No one claimed responsibility, but Cecilia had walked by, tossing you a slow, syrupy-sweet, “Oops, was that important?” before sauntering off.

You clenched your jaw. Breathed through it.

Not worth it.

But then there were the more deliberate moments.

Like the wardrobe rack incident.

You had been helping move costumes between trailers when Cecilia and one of her friends conveniently brushed past, sending a precariously hung dress tumbling to the ground.

“Oh no,” Cecilia pouted, pressing a hand to her chest with mock concern. “You should really be more careful.”

You bent to pick it up, biting back the sharp retort on the tip of your tongue. The last thing you needed was to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

Still, your fingers trembled slightly as you smoothed out the fabric and rehung it.

Then, there was lunch.

You had been balancing a plate of food in one hand, your phone in the other, when one of Cecilia’s friends accidentally knocked your elbow in passing.

It was a tiny movement. Just enough to send your fork clattering to the floor, just enough to make you hesitate—because was it intentional? Or were you just being paranoid?

“Careful,” the girl sing-songed over her shoulder, giggling as she caught up with Cecilia.

You let out a slow breath. Swallowed back the lump in your throat.

Not worth it.

So you kept your head up, kept moving, kept going. You told yourself that if you didn’t acknowledge it, if you pretended it didn’t exist, then it couldn’t touch you.

Right?

But it did.

Because by the time you got back to your trailer that night, you had to sit on the edge of your bed and press the heels of your hands into your eyes, breathing slow, measured breaths to keep yourself from crying.

Because it was working.

Because no matter how much you told yourself you were fine, no matter how much you smiled and laughed and acted unbothered, the cracks were starting to show.

You barely had a moment to yourself.  

Between running last-minute errands for production, keeping up with the crew’s rapid-fire instructions, and dodging the subtle but constant hostility radiating from Cecilia and her group, you were stretched thin.  

The exhaustion was creeping in—settling in the space between your ribs, behind your eyes, in the way your shoulders sat just a little tighter than usual.  

But you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.  

So you pushed through, past the carefully calculated inconveniences. The way they always seemed to cut in front of you when you were in a hurry, the stolen side-eyes and smirks exchanged whenever you spoke in a group, the way your things somehow always ended up in different places than you’d left them.  

You pretended not to notice when Cecilia’s voice turned just a little too loud whenever she spoke to someone near you.  

"Oh my god, you know what I hate? When people think just anyone can belong in this industry. Like… babe, you’re only here because they needed extra hands. It’s cute, though."  

You told yourself not to react.  

Even when Daisy—who had been standing beside you, her grip tightening on her clipboard—made a noise that sounded a lot like she was about to launch herself across the room.  

“It’s whatever,” you had muttered, tugging her back before she could make a scene.  

Daisy had narrowed her eyes. “It’s not whatever. She’s being a bitch.”  

You had only sighed. “I know.”  

Omar wasn’t as easily convinced.  

The next morning, when you found him loitering near Cecilia’s usual coffee spot, arms crossed and expression unreadable, you had to physically drag him away before he did something stupid.  

“Do not get yourself in trouble over this.”  

“She’s messing with you,” he seethed. “I hate people like her.”  

“She’s not worth it,” you said, but even to your own ears, your voice sounded too thin, too tight.  

Omar wasn’t buying it. “Okay, but are you okay?”  

You hesitated. The truth was, you weren’t sure anymore.  

The worst part wasn’t the pettiness or the whispered insults—it was the fact that it was working. That somehow, in all the noise and nonsense, they had managed to make you feel small.  

But admitting that felt too much like defeat.  

So you forced a smile. “I’m fine.”  

Omar gave you a long, knowing look before muttering something under his breath and stalking off.  

That afternoon, as you sat on a bench outside the studio, your notebook balanced on your lap, you felt a shadow fall over you.  

“Hey,” Pedro’s voice was soft.  

You glanced up, startled. “Oh. Hey.”  

His brows knit together. “You okay?”  

You blinked. “What?”  

“You’ve been… different.” His voice was measured, careful. “Quieter.”  

You tried to play it off, shaking your head with a small laugh. “I’m just tired. Long shoot days, you know how it is.”  

Pedro didn’t look convinced.  

For a moment, he just stood there, watching you with that steady, unreadable gaze of his. Like he was sifting through the words you weren’t saying, trying to make sense of them.  

Then, without another word, he sat down beside you.  

Close enough that his arm brushed against yours.  

You tensed, just slightly, before exhaling.  

Neither of you spoke for a moment.  

Then—  

“Can I see?” he asked, nodding toward your notebook.  

You hesitated.  

It was just mindless doodles—tiny flowers curling around the corners of the pages, half-finished sketches of set pieces, a rough outline of something that might have been Pedro’s profile if you hadn’t abandoned it halfway through.  

You felt a little embarrassed, but you handed it to him anyway.  

Pedro flipped through the pages, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “These are really good.”  

You rolled your eyes. “They’re just sketches.”  

“Still,” he murmured, fingers skimming over the paper. “They’re yours.”  

There was something about the way he said it—soft, sincere—that made your stomach tighten.  

For the first time in two days, something in you eased.  

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.  

And when Pedro leaned in, just slightly, warmth radiating from his shoulder where it rested against yours, you didn’t move away.

Pedro was still flipping through your sketches when a sharp, saccharine voice cut through the air.  

“Oh wow, there you are, Pedro. I was wondering when you’d finally come up for air.”  

Cecilia.  

You felt your whole body go rigid.  

Pedro barely glanced up, his fingers still tracing one of your sketches absentmindedly. “Hey.” His voice was flat, distracted.  

She took a step closer, her presence invasive in a way that made your skin prickle. “I was just telling the others how dedicated you are to your work. You know, always finding ways to get into character.” Her gaze flicked toward you, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Even off set.”  

You swallowed hard.  

Your chest felt tight, exhaustion pressing against your ribs, making it harder to keep your expression neutral. You were already hanging by a thread, stretched too thin over the last two days, and Cecilia knew it.  

Pedro, still looking down at your notebook, gave a vague hum of acknowledgment, barely engaging. It wasn’t the reaction Cecilia had been hoping for, and you could see it. The way her expression twitched for half a second before smoothing over again.  

She tilted her head, the corners of her mouth curling. “It’s sweet, though. That you take the time to entertain people. I mean, it’s not like everyone gets that kind of attention from you.” She let out a light, airy laugh that made your stomach turn. “Guess it pays to be in the right place at the right time, huh?”  

The implication was clear.  

You clenched your jaw, willing yourself not to react.  

But then—  

“Cecilia,” Pedro’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it now. His fingers tapped against the notebook, his expression unreadable. “What are you doing?”  

Cecilia blinked, all faux innocence. “What do you mean?”  

Pedro finally lifted his head, and when he met her gaze, something in his expression shifted—something sharp, something distinctly unimpressed.  

“I mean, what are you doing?” His voice was just as smooth as before, but there was weight behind it now. “Because if you’re here to talk about the shoot, you should probably be talking to the crew.”  

Cecilia’s smile faltered.  

It was subtle, but you caught it.  

She opened her mouth, probably to smooth things over, but Pedro was already looking back at you, tilting the notebook toward you slightly, as if she weren’t even standing there.  

“You should finish this one,” he murmured, tapping his finger against the half-finished sketch of his profile. “It’s really good.”  

You could feel Cecilia’s eyes burning into you, but Pedro wasn’t giving her anything to work with.  

Her lips parted, like she might try again, but then she seemed to think better of it. Instead, she let out a small, sharp exhale through her nose, rolling her eyes as she turned on her heel and stalked off.  

The moment she was gone, you let out a slow, shaky breath, your hands gripping your notebook a little tighter.  

Pedro glanced over, brow furrowed. “You okay?”  

You nodded, even though your throat was tight. “I just…” A deep inhale. “I think I need a break.”  

Pedro studied you for a long moment. Then, without a word, he reached out, resting his hand over yours where it lay against the bench.  

Warm. Steady.  

Grounding.  

“Let’s take one, then,” he murmured.  

And for the first time in days, you let yourself lean into it.

The evening air was crisp, carrying the lingering scent of rain on the pavement as the last of the crew wrapped up for the day. You were exhausted, your body aching from hours on set, but when Pedro leaned in—voice low and warm—you felt something in you unwind.  

“Wanna grab dinner before heading back?”  

You blinked up at him, a little caught off guard. “Like… out-out?”  

His lips quirked into a small smile, hands slipping into the pockets of his jeans. “Yeah. Out-out.”  

You hesitated, glancing around as crew members bustled past, some already heading toward the shuttle van waiting to take everyone back to the hotel. “But, like… what if people see me with you?”  

Pedro gave you a look. “So?”  

“So… you’re you,” you gestured vaguely at him, “and I’m just—”  

He cut you off with a quiet scoff, shaking his head. “Nope. We’re not doing that again. You’re you. And I wanna have dinner with you. End of discussion.”  

The finality in his tone made your stomach flip.  

You bit your lip, then nodded. “…Okay.”  

Pedro’s face softened, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he bumped your shoulder lightly. “Good.”  

By the time you both made it to the shuttle van, most of the cast and crew were already piling in.  

Vanessa was the first to notice. She raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across her face. “Ohhh, where are you two off to?”  

Before you could answer, Joseph leaned forward from his seat. “Are we witnessing a secret rendezvous?”  

Ebon chuckled, shaking his head. “A little late-night dinner date?”  

Coco, already buckled in, smirked knowingly. “Have funnnn,” she teased, dragging out the last syllable.  

You rolled your eyes, heat creeping up your neck. Pedro, for his part, was completely unfazed, flashing them an easy smile as he opened the door for you. “Don’t wait up,” he called, earning a chorus of laughter and whistles from the others as he shut it behind you.  

The restaurant wasn’t far—a quiet little spot tucked away from the main streets. The walk there was peaceful, the city buzzing around you but never pressing in too close.  

Pedro, dressed down in a hoodie, jeans, a baseball cap, and his glasses, was trying his best to blend in. But even like this, effortlessly casual, he still had a presence. He still walked like he took up space, like the world had to move around him.  

The height difference was almost comical. You felt it every time he turned his head down to look at you, every time his arm brushed against yours.  

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.  

You glanced up at him, caught off guard. “What?”  

Pedro gave you a look, one that made it clear he wasn’t buying whatever act you thought you were pulling. “Cecilia.”  

Your stomach twisted.  

You exhaled slowly, shaking your head. “It’s not a big deal.”  

Pedro stopped walking.  

You took two more steps before realizing, turning back to find him standing there, arms crossed, brows drawn together in frustration.  

He looked at you, really looked at you. “Of course, it’s a big deal,” he said, voice quieter now but firm. “If it’s hurting you, it’s a big deal.”  

You swallowed.  

The weight of his concern settled over you, warm and heavy. No one had ever really said that before. That what you were feeling mattered. That you weren’t just overreacting.  

Something in your chest cracked open, just a little.  

“…I just don’t want to make a thing out of it,” you admitted, voice small.  

Pedro’s features softened. He stepped closer, dipping his head slightly to meet your eyes. “You don’t have to,” he murmured. “But you don’t have to pretend it doesn’t bother you, either.”  

A lump formed in your throat.  

And then, just as easily as he had turned serious, he pulled back, tilting his head toward the restaurant. “C’mon. Food first, then we plot Cecilia’s demise.”  

A laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it.  

Pedro grinned, pleased with himself, before nudging your shoulder with his own.  

And as you walked the rest of the way, some of the weight on your chest didn’t feel quite so heavy anymore.

The restaurant was dimly lit, warm and intimate in a way that made the rest of the world feel far away. Soft jazz hummed through the air, mixing with the quiet murmur of conversation and the occasional clinking of glasses. The hostess greeted you both with a polite smile, barely sparing a glance at Pedro—either because she didn’t recognize him or, more likely, was being professional about it.  

Pedro let you choose the table, and you picked one near the window, a cozy little booth that felt tucked away from the rest of the diners. As you slid into your seat, Pedro pulled off his cap, running a hand through his messy curls before setting it down on the table.  

He looked… comfortable. Relaxed. And yet, there was still something unreadable in his expression as he watched you settle in.  

“You know,” he started, leaning forward on his elbows, “I’m kind of mad at you.”  

You blinked, caught off guard. “What? Why?”  

“Because,” he huffed, “I’ve been trying to get you alone for days, and the first time it actually happens, it’s because some Mean Girls knockoff has been making your life miserable.”  

You snorted. “So dramatic.”  

“I am dramatic,” he agreed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “But seriously. I don’t like that it took this for me to get to steal you away.”  

There was something in the way he said it—lighthearted, sure, but laced with something else. Something quieter. More honest.  

Your stomach flipped.  

Before you could figure out how to respond, the waiter appeared, handing over menus. Pedro thanked him with a charming smile before glancing back at you. “What are you in the mood for?”  

You shrugged, scanning the options. “Something warm.”  

Pedro hummed. “Soup?”  

“Maybe.”  

“Or,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “we get a huge plate of pasta and reenact Lady and the Tramp.”  

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Absolutely not.”  

Pedro placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Wow. That was a little too fast. Like you’ve thought about rejecting me before.”  

You bit your lip, trying to fight the smile threatening to break free. He made it so easy to forget the exhaustion pressing down on you, the weight of the last few days.  

The waiter came back, and you both placed your orders—him getting some kind of hearty stew, you settling on a creamy pasta dish. The conversation flowed as effortlessly as ever, touching on everything and nothing all at once.  

At some point, Pedro leaned back in his seat, stretching his legs out beneath the table. His knee brushed against yours, but he didn’t move away. Neither did you.  

“So.” His voice was softer now, less teasing. “Cecilia.”  

You sighed, slumping slightly. “Can we not?”  

“We can,” Pedro allowed. “But I still hate it.”  

You fiddled with the hem of your sleeve, tracing the fabric between your fingers. “It’s not like she’s saying anything outright cruel. Just little things. Looks. Comments. Stuff that doesn’t sound like much but still…”  

Pedro’s jaw ticked. His fingers drummed absently against the table. “That’s how people like her work. They know how to make you feel like you’re imagining it.”  

You swallowed, looking down. “Yeah.”  

A beat of silence stretched between you. Then—  

“Do you want me to talk to her?”  

Your head snapped up. “What? No.”  

Pedro tilted his head, eyeing you. “Why not?”  

“Because,” you exhaled sharply, “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”  

His gaze softened, a flicker of something fond in his eyes. “I know you don’t. But I also know that you’re tired. And I hate seeing you like this.”  

Something in you wavered.  

Pedro sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I just—God, I don’t get it. How could anyone not adore you?”  

Your breath hitched.  

The words were so sincere, so effortless, like he wasn’t even trying to be charming—just saying what was in his heart.  

Heat crept up your neck. You looked away, focusing on the flickering candle in the middle of the table. “You’re biased.”  

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”  

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”  

Pedro grinned. “And yet, here you are. Having dinner with me.”  

“Unfortunately.”  

He clutched his chest in mock agony. “You wound me.”  

The waiter arrived with your food, and Pedro’s dramatic antics were temporarily forgotten as the delicious aroma filled the air. As you picked up your fork, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand—just for a second, just long enough to send a small shiver up your spine.  

“Hey,” he murmured.  

You glanced up, and for the first time all day, you felt seen.  

“Don’t let her get to you,” Pedro said, voice gentle but firm. “You’re worth so much more than whatever bullshit she’s trying to pull.”  

Something tightened in your chest.  

You swallowed, nodding. “Okay.”  

Pedro studied you for a moment, then smiled. “Good.”  

The weight on your shoulders didn’t disappear entirely, but it softened, melted into something manageable under the glow of candlelight and Pedro’s unwavering attention. You let yourself relax, let yourself exist in this small, intimate moment where it was just the two of you, where the laughter was easy and the warmth between you was something real, something steady.  

Pedro caught your gaze mid-conversation, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned in just slightly. “There she is.”  

You blinked, tilting your head. “What?”  

“That smile,” he said simply. “Haven’t seen it in a while.”  

Heat bloomed in your chest, warm and unfamiliar, something delicate but deep. You rolled your eyes, but it lacked any real bite. “You’re ridiculous.”  

“And yet,” Pedro teased, mirroring your words from earlier, “here you are.”  

You shook your head, lips twitching. “Unfortunate, really.”  

Pedro pressed a dramatic hand to his chest. “Wow. First, I get turned down for Lady and the Tramp, and now this? My ego is in shambles.”  

You laughed, a real, unguarded sound, and he grinned like that was exactly what he was hoping for.  

The conversation stretched long into the night, ebbing and flowing between playful teasing and quiet sincerity. The kind of talk that felt effortless, that felt safe.  

Somewhere between the last bites of food and the soft hum of the restaurant around you, Pedro reached across the table, his fingers skimming yours. The touch was featherlight, a quiet question rather than a demand. You could have pulled away.  

But you didn’t.  

Instead, you let your fingers curl around his, grounding, steady.  

Pedro didn’t say anything—he just squeezed your hand, a silent promise, and you squeezed back.  

Outside, the night air was crisp, carrying the distant sounds of the city with it. The restaurant door shut softly behind you, leaving you and Pedro standing beneath the glow of streetlights, his cap pulled low, his glasses perched on his nose.  

It should have felt different—stepping back into reality after the small bubble of warmth inside the restaurant. But somehow, it didn’t.  

Pedro rocked back on his heels, hands tucked into his pockets. “Still okay?”  

You exhaled, watching as your breath curled into the night air. “Yeah,” you admitted, surprising yourself. “I think I am.”  

Pedro studied you for a beat, then nodded, satisfied.

It turns out Vanessa, Coco, Joseph and Ebon got dinner somewhere else in town away from the two of you and they were waiting already in the shuttle and as soon as you both stepped inside, the teasing started. “Ohhh, look who finally decided to show up,” Vanessa sang, kicking her feet up on the seat in front of her, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Joseph smirked from his spot by the window, arms crossed over his chest. “How romantic was it, really? Scale of one to ten?”

Coco grinned. “I’m betting solid eight.” Ebon scoffed. “Nah, Pedro’s smooth—at least a nine.” Pedro sighed dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You guys seriously have nothing better to do?” Vanessa waved a hand. “Nope. Now spill.” You rolled your eyes, buckling your seatbelt as the van pulled away from the curb. “We ate dinner. Like normal people. And then we walked outside. Like normal people.” Coco squinted. “That’s exactly what someone who did kiss would say.” Pedro groaned, leaning his head back against the seat, while you fought the smile tugging at your lips. Joseph held out his hands. “Okay, okay, let’s be serious for a second. Was it cute at least?” You blinked at him. “Was what cute?” “The date—” “It wasn’t a date,” you and Pedro said at the same time. A pause.

Then Vanessa gasped, clutching her chest. “You’re already finishing each other’s sentences?” “Oh my God,” Pedro mumbled under his breath. The laughter rolled through the van, easy and infectious, and despite the relentless teasing, despite the way your face burned under their knowing looks, you couldn’t help but feel… good.

The knot in your chest—the one that had been coiled so tight these past few days—had loosened. Maybe not completely, but enough that breathing didn’t feel so hard. Pedro shifted beside you, turning his head so only you could hear him. “They’re never gonna let this go.” You sighed. “Yeah. I figured.” His shoulder brushed yours, a quiet reassurance, and when he spoke again, there was something soft in his voice. “You sure you’re okay?” You hesitated. Because truthfully, the weight of the past few days still sat heavy on your shoulders. Cecilia had made sure of that. The quiet digs, the passive-aggressive comments, the knowing smirks—it was a kind of exhaustion that seeped into your bones. But right now, in the warmth of this moment, with Pedro looking at you like he actually cared about the answer, you found yourself saying— “I think I will be.” Pedro studied you for a beat, then nodded, satisfied. It was a small thing—just a simple gesture, barely more than a shift of his head. But somehow, it carried more weight than it should have, like he was silently saying I see you. I hear you. You swallowed. It was nice to have a friend. But then—was that all this was? You glanced at him again, at the way he was sat with you so easily, like he’d always been meant to be there. At the way he felt beside you, like a quiet anchor in the storm of the last few days.

End Notes:

I told you there would be drama O_O

Again, no hate to any girlie named Cecilia, everyone calm.

Don’t worry girlies… it will turn out fine, mostly… I think… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

YA'LL SEEN THE TEASER TRAILER!?!?!? IM UNWELL AND DYING AND SO EXCITED AND I WANT TO MELT AND DIE VANESSA KIRBY YOU LUCKY WOMAN I WANNA KISS HIM TOO T^T

TAGLIST: @comfortzonequeen @christinamadsen @liciafonseca @greenwitchfromthewoods @iqr-x @southernbe @maryfanson @brittmb115 @klajmekk @taytay0403 @whimsiwitchy @zymiii @sarahhxx03 @leilanixx @lilasskicker-23 @https-murdock @barnescamboy

[ink-stainedkiss]

Nerd Gojo Headcannons

A/N: I’m so sorry for my lack of activeness. please forgive me🙏🙏 I’ve had so much stuff with school and yesterday was my birthday so my schedule has been packed. I wanted to give you guys something small for now so my accounts not collecting dust, but i promise more will be coming in days prior!! Love you all!💕

Nerd!Gojo who is still completely shocked you chose him out of everyone on campus. Gojo was a known geek, someone who got excited about the latest comic and his grades never fell below an A+. Well lucky for him, you found the fact he was so nerdy to be extremely cute.

Nerd!Gojo who loves planning adorable dates with you, but it’s never commonplace. He will set up picnics right in front of a beautiful lake, taking you to a pottery class and giggling at how dumb your ‘masterpieces’ look, or simply creating a candlelight dinner in your apartment.

Nerd!Gojo who adores you and he makes it extremely known. For someone so shy when the two of you first met, he definitely has warmed up to you. Before, he was too scared to even stand next to you because he was afraid he would slip up and embarrass himself, but now he never leaves your side. You can’t exit the same room with him without giving him a long kiss goodbye, even if you're just grabbing ice from the hallway. Hugs, kisses, handholding, cuddles, you name it, Gojo loves it.

Nerd!Gojo who isn’t the best at taking care of himself. He often stays up late to finish homework or a project that could easily be done the next day, but unfortunately he’s a try hard and will force himself to stay awake until it’s done. Before you, he relied on energy drinks to keep him up and when all of the work was done, he would sleep the weekend away, barely leaving his dorm. Even now, you have to scold him for his unhealthy studying habits.

You were peacefully chatting with your friends, going on about the tests and assignments being piled on top of each other. As you spoke, your group’s eyes shift behind you, but you couldn’t turn before two lanky arms were sliding around your waist. Soft lips gently landed on your exposed neck and in your peripheral vision you saw a puff of white hair. Of course it was Gojo. Your friends did not hold back their cheeky looks, some of them turning and looking off in another direction while muffaling their giggles.

Blush rose to your cheeks instantly and you heard your boyfriend speak up,”Hi Baby.” He’s obviously tired, his voice groggier than normal, but he still has the energy to cover you in his love. You shift your body to face him, cupping his cheek, and you get a good look at his face. Like you expected, he looks on the brink of passing out. His usually bright eyes were a bit dimmer and there were vague shadows coating his under eyes. His own hand reached up and held the one of his face, turning his head to plant tiny kisses to your palm.

“Have you been sleeping?” Gojo sees the disappointed frown on your face, because you already knew the answer. He sighed, leaning into your touch,”Maybe.” The short response was enough to finalize your question. It didn’t help that he had shut his eyes and was practically sleeping against your palm. Turning to your friends, you excused yourself, dragging a half-asleep Gojo on your side the entire time you left.

Nerd!Gojo who knows he should listen to your stern lectures on why he needs to stop doing all nighters, but even if he felt like shit after, without fail the two of you would cuddle on his bed and take a long cat nap. You were never as tired as Gojo, so most of the time you would be awake, reading, or scrolling on your phone, while Gojo slept soundly on your lap.

Nerd!Gojo who may or may not do your homework if you leave it out. He tells himself he shouldn’t, since you tell him it’s not his responsibility to do your own work, but he can’t help it. You’re his girlfriend after all and it would be mean of Gojo to not fill out the first half of the paper and maybe the back half if he has time. (He does it regardless)

Nerd!Gojo who nearly cries when you get him a figurine of his favorite superhero character. He constantly gushes about how cool they are and doesn’t notice how you aren’t even listening to the topic, just focusing on how his eyes light up with pure joy. You have adapted to Gojo’s interest, never denying a trip to the movies with him to see a new action film he has been freaking out about. Holidays are like Gojo’s heaven because you always end up getting him another item for his very large collection. Each time you are smothered in kisses then dragged to his room to watch him rearrange his overcrowded stock.

Nerd!Gojo who is so thankful for you and some nights, wakes up to watch you sleep calmly. His fingers rake over your face and images of your future together flash in his head.

[cambankromyy]

THE ISLAND LOOKOUT (pt.7): the cut - (smau & irl au) childhood bsf!rafe cameron x thornton!reader

series masterlist; general masterlist; taglist

part 6- part 7 - part 8

unlike common belief, the four never hated the pogues. well not all of them at least, only if they had a reason to. people just assumed they hated pogues because people assumed they were the asshole type of kook, and sure they weren’t the type to always have their nice face on, but they weren’t mean; not with intention. they knew not to make enemies unless they had a reason to.

so even if people called it “weird” when sarah started talking to john b, none of them really minded.

the next day;

rafe pulls up outside your house, headlights cutting through the dim evening glow. you climb into the backseat, kicking your feet up onto the console as sarah turns around in the passenger seat, already smirking.

“you took forever.”

“cry about it,” you shoot back.

rafe doesn’t react like usual. just exhales through his nose, tapping his fingers against the wheel before reversing out of the driveway. the ride to the cut is mostly sarah filling the silence, rambling about john b’s latest scheme. you half-listen, half-watch rafe through the mirror. he’s not brooding exactly, just off.

by the time you pull up, the pogues are already there. john b’s messing with something on the hms pogue, kiara, cleo and pope sit on the dock talking, and jj—jj is the first to notice you. he tips his beer slightly, a slow grin creeping onto his face.

“well, look what the tide dragged in,” he drawls, eyes flicking between the three of you before landing on you.

you nod your head as an acknowledgement,

“yn” you say simply, stepping onto the dock.

jj cocks his eyebrow in confusion. "yn? thought it was roni."

you chuckle, "looks like someone did their research," looking at him.

jj smirks, "couldn't help my self," shrugging. "you drink?” he asks, handing you a open bottle.

you take the beer he hands you without breaking eye contact. “obviously.”

jj lets out a low whistle, clearly entertained. “alright then. let’s see if you can keep up.”

at first, you aren’t sure how the night will go, but somehow, you keep finding yourself next to jj. it’s not intentional—at least, not at first—but it just works. he’s sarcastic, reckless, always running his mouth, and somehow, it’s like talking to a male version of yourself.

at one point, jj leans in, grinning. “you’re actually kinda perfect.”

you raise an eyebrow. “yeah?”

“yeah,” he nods. “like, if i wasn’t me, i’d be you. which is honestly kinda terrifying.”

you smirk, taking a sip of your drink. “so what i’m hearing is—you’re obsessed with me.”

jj laughs, shaking his head. “might be.” then, like it’s the most casual thing in the world, he hands you his phone. “here. before i forget.”

you take it, glancing at the screen. he already has a new contact pulled up.

“oh, so you just assume i want your number?”

jj smirks. “you don’t?”

you roll your eyes but type it in anyway, handing the phone back. he glances at the screen, then back at you. “snap too?”

“god, you’re relentless,” you mutter, grabbing the phone again.

meanwhile, rafe lingers on the outskirts of the group. he’s there, but not really. drinking, laughing when necessary, but never fully sinking in. you notice. you clock the way he stands apart, how he never fully relaxes. but you don’t press it.

not yet.

later, after everything has settled, you get a noitification from being added to a group chat full of unknown numbers except jj and sarah. assuming its the members of today, you send a text.

you toss your phone onto the bed, something unsettled lingering in your chest. your mind kept jumping back to rafe's words, 'not used to hanging out with other people.'

the fuck was that supposed to mean?

tags under the cut!!

tags: @italk2god @angelicameron @marleymarleymarleymarley, @queenvane64, @raeven-marie43 @idiotussupremus @sereneera @yesshewrites1 @inlovewithchriss @ethanthequeefqueen @amterasuu @popou61 @drewsstars @yannew @anothertimegirl @flvredcas @yootvi @mrsdrewstarkeyy @niaunofficial @cooper8224 @rafegetinmybed @pogueprincesa @6r4cie @adalia-lovelace @bee-43 @drewrry @masongetinmybed @defnotayonna @lcversvoid @my-name-is-baby @lolasangelz @polli05927 @laniirackssss @rafecamerobswifeyy

[scriptedseraph]

this could be a great time to start talking to your families about homeschooling and other options for education! a lot of people don’t know their states have public online education and that some even have options where you attend classes but online still. i suffered during covid online but i felt like i thrived in online homeschooling. i know this can’t work for a lot of people, but i was able to enroll in campus classes AND online classes so i actually didn’t have to take PE bc i did it online. use your resources to your advantage.

also, i encourage you all to research “how to read”. like genuinely. i can’t explain it well but books vs brain rot by its been a minute is a podcast episode that talks about it, i highly suggest it. as books get banned we will have to put in more effort to make them accessible. download pdf’s of your favorite books, buy dvd’s and vinyls and books from the thrift store and local small bookstores, get in online forums and share them with friends.

for as much as reddit gets the shit there’s so many easy access resources on there. if you ever have a question i ALWAYS do “question?” + “reddit” and i get in detail explanations and links and anything else i need. im pretty active in my town’s reddit group (some neighborhoods also use apps so check if there are group chats for your neighborhood on google)

life kit by NPR is a great podcast, lots of podcasts will teach you life tips and you can have them playing while you’re doing anything. you don’t have to pay attention, i play them at work and can’t hear it half the time but still get good info out of it! look for youtube channels that have life tips and such too

when it comes to news sources, i mainly listen to NPR. they’ve definitely got some bias and i only listen to their podcasts as of yet but i enjoy them and feel like i get good information out of them. i take everything i hear at face value and do my own research if i want to know more about the story or mention it to someone.

If this happens and the courts do nothing about it the constitution is pretty much over

[egrets-not-regrets]

Saint Valentine

You watch as your Word Bearer, Aziel, and his group go down to the basement for their regular ritual. Little did you know they were planning to summon someone to ask for some odd advice.

Author’s Note: I have a Word Bearer OC now!

Tagged: @shadowfirecat , @kit-williams , @bleedingichorhearts , @barn-anon , @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@sleepyfan-blog , @bispecsual , @c-u-c-koo-4-40k , @ms--lobotomy

@gra93fruit-blog , @i-am-a-dragon34 , @felinisnoctis, @thevoidscreams, @yurihasurunbara

God love him, Aziel is very helpful and loyal (daresay a somewhat like a dog), and is a wonderful hype-man, but sometimes he can get a bit absurd and uncomfortably zealous about it. Not to mention him trying to convert you to believing the Four, whoever they are. You’re not particularly religious, but you’re of the opinion people can believe whatever they want to so as long as it doesn’t hurt others. You can take only so much chatter of worship of you and his gods after all. It got to the point you had to tell him to cut down the words of praise and worship lest you think he is being insincere. He was rather insulted by the fact that you questioned his sincerity for you, but he made an effort to not do that as much. His nicknames, however, never stopped.

You figured all this may be due to his loneliness and the lack of company of his peers, so you were relieved when Aziel found a group of Word Bearers to hang out with. Better for him to go out and socialize rather than pour all his focus on you. It wouldn’t do him much good to have too much of a codependent relationship with you.

Them together were an odd bunch, they all seem to look so different! Some seem to be living armor, while others, like Aziel, have more human like forms but with horns protruding from their head, looking the living embodiments of demons or monsters. They visited weekly, typically to discuss their own theological literature from what little you can understand in gothic, pray, and chant. It seemed no different than the Sunday worship that your christian friend took you to once. Sometimes listening to their chanting puts you to sleep at night.

Today’s visit was the same. The Word Bearers passed by with a nod or a wave as they made their way down to the basement as usual. You looked at your own Astartes carrying a box in his arms. Curious, you asked him, “What do you have in there?”

“Items for our ritual, my darling goddess.”

You couldn’t help but blush at his pet names, but frown at the mention of a ritual, “Please tell me that a half-decomposed animal carcass is not part of it.” the memory of a decomposing deer carcass that stunk up the house for several days made you want to wretch. Where did Aziel acquire such a thing any way? You wonder.

Aziel nuzzled you and reassuringly replied, “I promise it is nothing of that sort.”

Your shoulders sagged with relief and turned to start filling the kettle, “The usual for you guys?”

“Yes. Thank you, my radiant light.” The Word Bearer leaned down and kissed your temple. You giggled and smiled at him, “You’re welcome. You go ahead, tea and mocha will be ready up here when you’re done.”

Aziel purred as he nuzzled you again then left. You started to brew very strong coffee. You stuffed the massive tea strainer full with rooibos tea mixture, set out honey, a large tin of powder hot chocolate, and a jar of dried chili flakes. They had a preference for sweet and strongly flavored drinks given how much they enjoyed the mocha you made. Aziel and his friends would take a while and when they start their ending chants, it would be the perfect time to boil water.

You were reading a novel on your tablet when a cloying smoky scent filled your nostrils as if something was baked way too long. Was something burning? Smoke billowed out when you opened the door to the basement.

“Aziel?” You called out worriedly.

You coughed and waved the smoke away from your face. Concerned and forgetting that your Astartes could withstand a lot more than the average human, you rushed downstairs.

“We summon you, St. Valentine!”

You paused when you heard them say the name “St. Valentine”, catching on that they were trying to summon something or someone. When the smoke cleared, you were left standing awkwardly on the stairs, the group of Word Bearers staring at you, all positioned around a summoning circle drawn with what you hope was red paint. Three of them were kneeling in prayer, one was holding a book aloft, and another one was swinging an incense burner pouring with smoke. Aziel stood in front of them as if directing the entire ritual. A heart shaped box of chocolates and a bouquet of red roses laid in the middle. It was clear the St. Valentine they were trying to summon was the St. Valentine of Valentine’s Day. Not that it did anything.

“Sorry… Aziel. I… I thought… something was burning.” You stuttered in embarrassment, quickly turning to go back upstairs, “I’ll go, sorry I interrupted you.”

Suddenly, you felt yourself falling forward into an armoured embrace.

“Don’t leave. Please, my guiding star.” Aziel rubbed his face against your hair like a cat seeking affection.

“But don’t you have to finish the ritual?”

His grip tightened, scared that you would disappear if he let go, “We are finished, but the ritual was not successful.” He mumbled.

You felt bad for breaking their focus at such a critical moment thus contributing to their failure, “I’m sorry…” you started.

As if he knew already what you’re going to say, Aziel reassured you, “You have no fault in this. It is much more difficult to summon anything in ancient Terra. Do not fret.”

His fire-patterned eyes held a glimmer of humour and something else as you looked at him, “We summoned you after all.” he chuckled.

You snorted and laughed, “I don’t think that counts. Why are you guys trying to summon St. Valentine?”

“We wish to ask for his wisdom in properly courting our bonded.” Aziel replied earnestly.

Your mouth dropped open. Heat spread across your face and your heart skipped a few beats. You stammered, “You… I… um… you want to court me?” Aziel was very devoted to you and at times a little too devoted, but you thought it was just the way he was as a Word Bearer. Never in your wildest imagination did you think that Aziel had feelings for you to the point he would try to summon St. Valentine to ask for advice. It was a lot to take in. Perhaps you’ll take the lead and rein back Aziel a bit, knowing how gungho he could get

The fact that his buddies went along with him to do so just made the situation even more ridiculous. You laughed and reached to rubbed the smudge of dirt off the base of one of his horns. Purring loudly, Aziel leaned into your touch. You then cupped his face with your hands stroking the scarified mark on his left cheek, “I am very flattered. But…”

Aziel’s face fell.

His face brightened once again when you pecked his nose with a quick kiss, “You silly man. I was about to say let’s talk about how I want to be courted and we can go from there.”

If your Word Bearer had a tail, he would be wagging it in happy excitement, “You are saying ‘Yes’?” he asked.

“Yes. Now, go clean up and bring the chocolate and flowers up with you. Then we’ll chat. I’m sure it will help your brothers as well.”

Aziel gently pressed his lips against yours, “Of course, my lovely moon lily.” before releasing you from his grasp.

[velting]

-`♡Our Manager♡´-

U-20 x Manager!Reader

╰┈➤. .Synopsis: You are the new U-20 manager! You try your best and connect with the players in the team, hoping this job and experience would go well and help them succeed!

╰┈➤. .Warnings: None

╰┈➤. [Featuring]: Oliver Aiku - Sendo Shuuto - Itsuki Watatsuki - Kento Cho- Gen Fukaku- Teru Kitsunenzato - Miroku Darai- Nio Kazuma-Neru Teppei- Haru Hayate (Separate)

The air in the training facility buzzed with the chaotic energy of the players. Sweat beaded down their faces as they gathered around the large, open space, the smell of freshly cut grass lingering from their recent drills. The sound of cleats scraping the floor echoed as the team members huddled together, some still stretching, others chatting loudly. It was the end of another grueling training session, and there was no shortage of banter and horseplay among the young athletes.

"You think I could totally outpace you, right?" one of the forwards boasted to a defender, his voice thick with mischief.

"I’ll believe it when I see it," the defender smirked back, tossing a water bottle to his teammate.

Laughter broke out, filling the room with the usual banter that had become part of their routine. But just as one of the midfielders was about to make a sarcastic comment about how bad the others' aim was with the ball, the door to the locker room swung open with a loud thud.

The room fell silent in an instant.

A tall man stepped into the space, the sound of his boots clanging heavily against the floor. Coach Kato—tough, no-nonsense, and always commanding attention—had arrived. His sharp eyes scanned the group with an intimidating focus. He was a man who didn’t need to raise his voice to make people listen, but when he did, it was enough to make anyone sit up straighter.

"Alright, everyone, listen up," Coach Kato's voice cut through the noise, firm and commanding.

A collective shush ran through the team as they turned to face him. The playful energy quickly dissipated, leaving an air of expectation. It wasn’t often that Coach called for attention after a training session unless it was important.

[Name] stood at the door just behind him, her hands nervously clasped together as she waited for her introduction. Her hair swayed by the wind as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, unsure of what to expect. Her heart raced—not from nervousness about speaking, but from the weight of the moment. She was about to meet the entire U-20 soccer team as their new manager. Despite her usually easy going personality, this felt like a big step.

Coach Kato finally broke the silence. “This is [Name] [Surename],” he said, gesturing toward her. “She’s the new manager of this team. She’ll be helping with your schedules, maintaining your fitness and training routines, and keeping you organized. She’s not here to play your babysitter. You’re to treat her with respect, just like any other member of the team.”

[Name] straightened a bit, her heart beating faster at the mention of her role. She couldn’t help but smile, even though the pressure was mounting. It was a new experience for her, stepping into a professional setting like this one. Her cheeks flushed lightly under the attention, and she felt the weight of all those curious eyes on her.

“Hey, come on, Coach! We can totally handle ourselves,” one of the players called out, his tone half-joking, half-challenging. He was a forward with a reputation for mischief, always looking for an excuse to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, she doesn’t have to tell us what to do!” another player chimed in, grinning.

The coach raised an eyebrow, his voice darkening. “You think you can handle yourselves? Last time I checked, none of you could keep track of your own socks, let alone your schedules."

A few chuckles rippled through the group at Coach Kato’s remark, but there was no mistaking the authority in his tone.

[Name’s] cheeks flushed deeper, but she knew this was her moment to shine—no matter how intimidating the situation felt. She took a small step forward, standing a bit taller, and offered a bow to the team.

“Hello! My name is [Name] [Surename],” she began, her voice slightly more chipper than she felt, but she did her best to stay confident. “I’ll be managing everything behind the scenes—from your training schedules to making sure you have all the right gear. I’m really happy to be here and excited to get to know all of you!” She beamed, her smile as bright and genuine as she could muster.

As she stood there, nervously twiddling her fingers together, there was a slight, awkward pause. The players exchanged glances, trying to size her up. Some of them were still skeptical, while others were intrigued. [Name’s] towering height and striking appearance—especially with her hair and her eyes peeking out from her clear glasses—made her stand out in a way that was hard to ignore.

One of the more bold players, a striker known for his cocky attitude, tilted his head and shot her a playful grin. “I’ll take care of her, don’t worry, Coach!” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Another player snorted in laughter, and the team’s usual rowdiness began to creep back in, despite the coach’s stern presence. But before the jokes could escalate, Coach Kato’s voice rang out again.

“That’s enough,” he snapped, a warning in his tone that made even the most rebellious players freeze. “You’ll treat her with respect, and that means no teasing, no messin' around, and no distractions during practice. If I hear anything out of line, you’ll be running laps until your legs give out. Got it?”

The locker room went dead silent again. The team knew better than to challenge Coach Kato, especially when he used that tone. Some players even shuffled their feet uncomfortably, realizing they might have crossed a line. [Name] swallowed and glanced nervously at the floor, hoping she hadn’t caused too much trouble by being the center of attention. But she was also grateful—this was the kind of environment where everyone would know she meant business, and perhaps they would give her a chance.

Coach Kato gave one last stern look to the group before turning his attention back to [Name]. “You’ll report to me for any issues, and we’ll work together to make sure this team stays on track. [Name], I trust you’ll keep them in line?”

She nodded enthusiastically, trying to shake off the nerves. “Yes, Coach! I’ll do my best.”

Coach Kato gave her a brief, approving nod. “Good. Now, get to know each other. We’re a team, and that starts with everyone pulling their weight. [Name], we’re counting on you to make sure things run smoothly. Welcome aboard.”

With that, the coach turned and walked out, leaving [Name] standing at the front of the room as the players slowly began to stir, murmuring amongst themselves.

As the door clicked shut behind the coach, a murmur of disbelief spread across the team. Some exchanged curious glances, while others made their way toward [Name].

“Well, [Name]-san, huh?” The bold striker from earlier swaggered over, a teasing smile on his face. “Not what I expected, but I guess we’ll see what you’ve got. Can you keep up with us?”

[Name] chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. “I hope so! I’m pretty good at staying organized… and I’ll be cheering for you guys from the sidelines!”

Her response, a bit shy but sincere, earned a few raised eyebrows, followed by polite nods. The first test had been passed: she wasn’t just another manager. She was part of the team now, and the journey to get to know each player was just beginning.

But what she didn’t know was that, despite her air-headed nature and awkwardness, the seeds of admiration had already been quietly planted.

Aiku Oliver ➺

The crisp sound of sneakers pounding against the field was constant. The U-20 team was deep into their daily training session, the field now painted with the streaks of sunlight breaking through the clouds. The players, drenched in sweat, were focused and determined, running their laps with precision. [Name] stood off to the side, her glasses perched on the edge of her nose as she diligently took notes on the team’s performance. A clipboard was clasped tightly in her hands as she wrote down the times each player completed their laps, tracking their stamina and ensuring no one pushed themselves too hard—or too little.

Every so often, she would call out to one of the players, handing them a water bottle as they slowed to catch their breath, offering encouragement.

“You’re doing great, Hanako! Just a few more laps!” she cheered, passing a bottle to a panting midfielder.

“Thanks, [Name]-san!” Hanako said with a quick, grateful nod, before jogging off again.

[Name] smiled, but it was starting to feel like the time was stretching on forever. The sun was growing warmer, and the field’s intensity was starting to wear on her as well. Still, she had a job to do, and she wouldn’t let herself slack off. But just as she glanced back down at her notes, she saw one of the players approaching her, a bit slower than usual, his tall frame cutting through the group of running athletes.

It was Oliver Aiku, the team’s defense specialist.

Oliver was hard to miss, his dark purple hair with lime-green tips a standout against the backdrop of the other players. His muscular build was clear under his training gear, and his confident stride had a commanding presence that drew the attention of anyone nearby. As he approached, he shot a playful grin in [Name’s] direction, his heterochromatic eyes—green on the left, purple on the right—glistening with a mixture of confidence and mischief.

“Hey, manager,” Oliver said, his voice smooth with an almost teasing undertone. He slowed to a walk as he neared her, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. His eyes narrowed in an appreciative gaze. “You look stunning out here, you know? It's not often we get someone like you on the sidelines.”

[Name] blinked, a bit taken aback by the sudden attention. She knew Oliver was the team’s resident heartthrob—he had a reputation with the ladies, no doubt. The way he was looking at her made her cheeks turn pinker than she’d like to admit.

“Uh, t-thank you,” she stammered, fumbling with her clipboard. Her mind scrambled to stay focused. Stay professional, [Name], she reminded herself. She quickly pulled out a water bottle, offering it to him. “You’re doing well! Drink some water, stay hydrated.”

She handed it to him with a polite smile, trying to hide the fact that her heart rate had sped up at the compliment.

Oliver smirked, taking the bottle from her hand, but instead of immediately drinking, he lingered a moment longer, his grin widening. “You know, I could use a few things outside of just water,” he said, his tone smooth, almost flirtatious. “How about I take you out for a nice dinner sometime? You deserve it for all the hard work you’re doing for us.”

[Name] felt the heat rush to her face. What did he just say?! she thought in a daze. She’d heard stories of Oliver’s way with words, but hearing it directed at her was a whole new level of awkward.

“W-well,” she stammered, trying her best to keep it cool, “I-I’m really just here to help with your training… And, you know, make sure everyone’s staying on track. But, uh…” She fidgeted, her heart thumping in her chest. She wasn’t sure what to say. Her usual confidence was slipping away. “I’ll consider it… after the training,” she added quickly, her words coming out almost like a nervous whisper.

Oliver’s smile grew, clearly enjoying the effect he had on her. “I’ll take that as a yes, then,” he replied smoothly, his eyes glinting with a playful spark. He stepped back a little, ready to continue his laps. “I’ll be looking forward to it, [Name]-chan.”

He gave her a knowing wink, and for a moment, [Name] stood frozen, her face bright red. No way… Did he just wink at me?

Trying to regain some composure, she quickly jotted down the time for his lap. “D-Don’t push yourself too hard, Aiku,” she said, her voice shaky. “We don’t want you overexerting yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” Oliver said, his voice turning soft, almost teasing. He gave her a final look over his shoulder as he started to jog away, his eyes lingering on her with that mischievous glint. “But if you ever want to talk more, just let me know, okay?”

[Name] watched him for a moment, her mind still reeling. Did I just get flirted with? By Oliver Aiku? She shook her head, trying to focus back on the task at hand, though her thoughts were still a swirl of confusion and surprise.

As the training session continued, Oliver’s behavior toward [Name] became more and more evident. He began to seek her out during breaks, hanging around her as she handed out water bottles to the players. Each time, he would make some offhand comment about her looks, her work ethic, or how much she seemed to stand out in comparison to other managers.

His compliments, though laced with a lighthearted, teasing tone, had a subtle sincerity to them that [Name] couldn’t ignore. She had to admit—he had a way with words. But it was also clear that Oliver wasn’t just flirting for fun—there was a growing admiration in his eyes. The way he’d wink at her, or the moments when he’d seek her out to engage in small talk, made it feel like he was trying to carve out moments where he could connect with her outside of just training.

[Name], however, remained mostly oblivious to the deeper meaning behind his words. She was so focused on her responsibilities that she didn’t notice how his attempts to charm her were slowly changing into something more serious. She was a little unsure of how to react, not just because of Oliver’s flirtations but because, in the back of her mind, she still had worries about her appearance, especially compared to someone as striking and confident as him.

And so, Oliver’s charming yet somewhat playful nature became a puzzle she found herself unwillingly drawn to.

As Oliver finished his laps, he slowed down and jogged back to the group, glancing over his shoulder once more at [Name]. She stood there, a little flustered but trying to focus on her clipboard. Oliver grinned to himself, shaking his head.

“Guess I’ll just have to make sure I see you more often, manager,” he murmured under his breath, his gaze lingering for a second longer.

[Name], still caught up in the haze of his attention, blushed deeply as she wrote down his final lap time. Oliver Aiku, she thought, glancing at him as he jogged away. ‘Definitely a lot to deal with, but... I guess he’s not that bad.’

Sendo Shuuto ➺

The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the soccer field. The players had finished their laps for the day, but the air was still thick with the scent of sweat and grass, as some of the more energetic team members continued to practice on their own. The golden light caught the edges of the goalposts and the sleek blades of grass beneath them. [Name] stood at the sidelines, clipboard in hand, keeping track of the final practice sessions.

She had become accustomed to the rhythm of the players by now. The way they pushed themselves, their laughter, their teasing—all of it felt strangely familiar. Still, she stayed focused, occasionally making her way toward a player who needed a quick drink or a few words of encouragement.

It was at that moment that Sendo Shuuto, the star striker of the team, caught her eye. With his lean build and confidence practically oozing from his every movement, he was impossible to miss. He stood a few meters away, adjusting his position for a shot at the goal, an intense focus in his pale red eyes. [Name] smiled to herself as she watched him, knowing that he was known for his impressive skills—his talent was undeniable.

Sendo had been a little quieter around her than the others, but there was something in the way he observed her from a distance, the slight blush on his face whenever she offered him a compliment or encouragement. It was clear that he had taken a particular liking to her, though he hadn’t yet made his feelings known outright.

With a determined look on his face, Sendo kicked the ball with impressive force toward the goalpost, trying to show off his skills. But, as if fate had a different plan, the ball ricocheted off the post and unexpectedly flew straight toward the wall on the far side of the field.

There was a brief, almost comical silence, followed by a loud thwack as the ball bounced off the wall and came straight back toward Sendo. The ball hit him squarely on the head with a soft thud.

“Ow!” Sendo yelped, stumbling back a step, his face scrunching in pain as he tried to steady himself. His body rocked slightly as he rubbed the back of his head, wincing from the unexpected hit.

[Name], who had been walking toward him with a water bottle in hand, immediately froze. Her eyes widened in concern as she rushed to his side. “Sendo-kun! Are you alright?!”

Her voice was filled with genuine worry, and Sendo, still slightly dazed from the unexpected blow, couldn’t help but notice how close she was standing to him. His heart skipped a beat. ‘Oh no… did she see that?’ He tried to act tough, but his face flushed redder than he ever thought possible. “I’m fine... I mean, that wasn’t exactly part of the plan...” he muttered, still rubbing his head. He tried to smile it off, but the pain was more than he wanted to admit.

[Name’s] eyes softened with concern, and without a second thought, she gently placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “You really should be more careful! That looked like it hurt.”

Sendo couldn’t help but notice how soft her voice sounded, how close she was to him now. Her warm presence was so calming, so… beautiful. He tried to stand a little taller to impress her, but his head still throbbed from the impact.

She noticed his slight unsteadiness and, without thinking, gently guided him down onto the grass. “You should rest for a moment, Sendo-kun,” she suggested, her tone kind and caring. “I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

Before he could protest, [Name] kneeled down beside him, lifting his head gently onto her lap, a soft gasp escaping from his lips as the reality of the situation hit him. He could feel the warmth of her thighs against his cheek, her delicate fingers brushing through his hair as she checked his head.

The world around him seemed to slow. His heart pounded in his chest, and his thoughts went blank. ‘Wait... is this really happening?’

[Name’s] face was now directly above him, her soft, comforting voice reaching his ears as she spoke, “Just relax for a moment. I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

But in that instant, something inside Sendo snapped. He blinked rapidly, feeling his face grow hotter with each passing second. ‘Her... her lap?’ He could feel his pulse racing, his breath caught in his throat. He had been this close to girls before, sure, but never like this. Never with a girl who was as… perfect as her.

[Name’s] gentle touch, her concern for him, and her calm demeanor were like a dream. The way she looked down at him with those soft eyes... It was almost too much. The sweet scent of her hair, the sound of her voice, the closeness—it was overwhelming. ‘She’s so beautiful…’ he thought, his mind swirling in a sea of thoughts.

His heart was hammering now, and he felt something stir deep within him. His thoughts began to drift, and before he could even stop himself, his eyes fluttered closed, and he passed out.

[Name], still unaware of the full extent of what had just happened, blinked in confusion as she noticed his face grow pale and his body go limp. “Sendo-kun?! No, no! What’s going on?!” she exclaimed, panic rising in her chest.

She quickly shifted her position to check on him, her hands gently shaking his shoulders. “Sendo-kun, wake up! Are you okay?!”

His expression remained serene, almost too calm as if he were in a deep, peaceful sleep. But [Name] couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. She waved her hands in front of his face, trying to snap him back to reality, but there was no response.

Meanwhile, in the depths of his mind, Sendo Shuuto was lost in a dream. His mind was filled with images of him and [Name], the woman who had so suddenly and unexpectedly captured his heart. They were standing side by side at the altar, in a beautiful church with delicate roses scattered around them, the soft glow of candles lighting the way.

“I do,” he whispered, his voice smooth with confidence as he gazed into her eyes.

[Name], dressed in a stunning wedding gown, smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with affection. “I do, too,” she responded softly, her voice filled with warmth.

As they exchanged vows in his dream, Sendo felt his heart swell. In his fantasy world, nothing was more perfect than this moment. ‘This is how it’s supposed to be…’ he thought, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

But then, just as he leaned in to kiss her, the dream blurred, and a sharp, unexpected voice broke through the fantasy.

“Sendo-kun!” [Name’s] voice called out to him from the real world, pulling him back from his daydreams.

Sendo’s eyes slowly fluttered open, and he let out a weak groan, his head still in [Name’s] lap. His heart was racing, and his face burned hotter than it had ever felt before. ‘What... what just happened?’ he thought, trying to focus his thoughts.

[Name], still looking down at him with a concerned expression, tilted her head in confusion. “Sendo-kun, are you okay now?”

For a moment, he couldn’t form any words, his mind still trying to catch up with the rapid beat of his heart. But then, his lips curled into a sheepish grin, despite the overwhelming embarrassment. “I-I’m fine… Just... a little dizzy,” he stammered, his voice still soft from his dream-induced haze.

His face was still flushed, but it wasn’t from the hit. It was from the way [Name] was looking at him, the way she cared for him. He was too embarrassed to meet her gaze directly.

[Name] smiled gently and helped him sit up. “I’m glad you’re okay, but maybe you should take it easy for the rest of the day, okay?”

Sendo nodded, still feeling the weight of her touch in his mind. “Yeah… I’ll take it easy. But... thank you, [Name]-chan.” His voice had an underlying sincerity that he didn’t quite realize until now.

As she stood and walked away, he couldn’t stop the dreamy look in his eyes. Maybe one day... he thought to himself, his heart racing once more. ‘Maybe one day, she’ll really be mine.’

Kazuma Nio ➺

The air in the gym was thick with the sound of weights clanging against each other, mixed with the sharp breaths of players pushing themselves. The team was in the middle of their strength training session, and despite the hot, humid air, there was an undeniable energy in the room. The sound of machines being used, grunts of exertion, and motivational shouts filled the space, all blending together to create an atmosphere that was equal parts exhausting and inspiring.

[Name] stood to the side, her clipboard in hand as she made her way through her task of observing and noting each player's progress. Her gaze shifted over the team, each member focused on their individual exercises. Her eyes landed on Nio Kazuma, who was positioned at the far end of the gym near the bench press, his broad shoulders and powerful build evident as he gripped the heavy barbell.

Kazuma was known for his raw strength and the competitive streak that ran through him. His sweat-drenched shirt clung to his body, and the muscles in his arms and chest flexed as he pressed the barbell upward with ease. He was in the middle of a set, his face contorted in concentration as he pushed through the weight.

[Name] couldn't help but feel impressed by the sight. His confidence and sheer physicality were something to behold, but it was also clear from his focused expression that he didn’t take his training lightly.

As Kazuma finished his set, he released the bar with a loud clank, letting it drop back into place on the rack. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, exhaling deeply. [Name], seeing an opportunity to show some support, made her way toward him, her light footsteps barely making a sound on the gym floor.

Kazuma glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of [Name] walking toward him. His lips curved into a confident, cocky grin. He wiped his hands on his gym shorts and adjusted his posture, trying to make himself look even more imposing as she got closer.

[Name] gave him a friendly, genuine smile. “Kazuma-kun, I have to say, I’m really impressed with how much you’re pushing yourself,” she said, her voice filled with admiration.

Kazuma’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the attention. He straightened up, flexing his chest slightly in a way that made his muscles pop even more. “Ah, well, you know. I don’t settle for being just ‘good’ at something,” he said with a wink. “If you want to be the best, you’ve got to give it everything you’ve got.”

His voice had that usual confident edge, and there was an unmistakable arrogance in the way he spoke. But [Name] didn’t mind. She admired his enthusiasm and the way he carried himself—his confidence was contagious.

“You’re definitely showing that you’re giving it your all,” she said, her voice light but sincere. “It’s really inspiring to see someone put so much into their training. It makes the team look up to you.”

Kazuma chuckled, clearly pleased with the praise. He swiped a towel off the nearby bench and draped it over his shoulders, holding it like a trophy. “Well, I can’t let the guys think I’m slacking, can I? They need to know who the strongest guy in the room is.” He looked at her, his dark eyes glinting with that same cocky confidence. “And that’s me, of course.”

[Name] giggled softly at his boastful nature but couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of respect for him. His confidence wasn’t unfounded—he was clearly one of the strongest players on the team, and there was something about his attitude that made him stand out.

“I can tell,” she said, her eyes bright with admiration. “It’s hard to ignore the guy who pushes himself so hard.”

Kazuma smirked, clearly satisfied with the compliment. He stretched his arms above his head and gave a slight nod, as if acknowledging her words. “Well, someone’s gotta set the standard,” he said, lowering his arms and flashing her another confident smile. “And why not let it be me?”

[Name] chuckled, her cheeks flushing slightly from the ease with which Kazuma commanded the room. His personality was loud and assertive, but it was also oddly charming in a way that made him hard to ignore. “I don’t think anyone would argue with that.”

Kazuma took a few steps toward her, wiping his face with the towel. He seemed to grow even more comfortable with her presence, his posture relaxed but still brimming with self-assurance. “Hey, you’re doing a pretty great job keeping track of everything, [Name]-chan,” he said, his tone casual but tinged with genuine appreciation. “It’s gotta be tough, managing all these guys.”

[Name] smiled, a little flattered by the compliment. “It’s not easy, but I enjoy being part of the team,” she said, trying to sound modest. “I really like getting to know everyone and helping out however I can.”

Kazuma gave her a look that was half teasing, half approving. “Well, it’s clear you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, that’s for sure. Anyone with brains and a little charm like yours can do pretty much anything.”

The compliment hit her harder than expected, and she felt her face warm. Kazuma-kun, always so confident, she thought to herself, a little bashful but also genuinely impressed.

“You’re too kind,” she said, trying to regain her composure. “But I’m just here to make sure everyone stays on track. I’m just doing my job.”

Kazuma smirked, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief. “Well, if it’s your job to make sure we’re all doing our best, then I guess I should show off a little more,” he said, his grin widening. “You know, just to make sure I’m living up to your expectations.”

[Name] laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. “You don’t need to show off for me, Kazuma-kun. You’ve already proven yourself plenty.” She tilted her head slightly, adding, “But I’m happy to see you take pride in your work.”

Kazuma chuckled, clearly pleased by her words. He gave her a playful shrug. “What can I say? It’s just in my nature. But don’t worry, I’ll leave some of the spotlight for the rest of the team too.”

[Name] smiled warmly at him, appreciating his straightforwardness. “I’m sure everyone appreciates that. It’s great to see you leading by example.”

Kazuma gave a quick nod, then glanced down at his watch. “Well, I should get back to it. Can’t let the rest of the team think I’m slacking off, right?”

“Of course,” [Name] said, watching him with a genuine smile. “Keep up the great work, Kazuma-kun. I’ll be cheering for you.”

Kazuma gave her a final grin, his cocky demeanor still very much intact. “You’ve got it, manager,” he said, before turning back toward the bench press. “I’ll make sure to keep impressing you.”

As Kazuma returned to his workout, [Name] stood off to the side, a small smile on her face as she watched him. His confidence was infectious, and despite his cocky nature, she couldn’t help but admire his drive. His ability to be both serious and relaxed in the same breath was something she found fascinating.

He really does have a way of making everything look effortless, [Name] thought, her admiration for Kazuma growing. I can see why he’s a leader on this team.

The gym felt a little quieter as the sound of weights and grunts took over once again. Yet, for [Name], Kazuma’s boldness and confidence lingered in the air. She could only hope that his energy would help lead the team to greater heights, just as his personality did for him.

Hayate Haru ➺

The late afternoon sun cast a soft golden light over the soccer field, creating a tranquil, almost dreamlike atmosphere. The sounds of the team’s training had started to die down as most of the players were finishing their workouts, their laughter and voices fading into the distance. The occasional breeze ruffled the leaves of the nearby trees, sending a refreshing coolness through the air.

In a quiet corner of the field, far away from the commotion of the others, Haru Hayate was laying on his back, eyes closed, arms stretched out at his sides as he enjoyed the peaceful solitude. His spiky light yellow hair seemed to glisten in the sunlight, and his tall, lean figure was perfectly still against the soft grass. Hayate was a person who valued calmness and quiet—he found solace in the simple act of soaking in the environment around him, far from the chaos of the training ground.

The world around him was peaceful, almost serene. The gentle rustling of the leaves, the faint chirp of birds in the distance, and the occasional flutter of a butterfly’s wings—these were the small things that he appreciated, the things that allowed him to reset and recharge.

[Name], having finished her rounds and ensuring everyone else was doing okay, was walking through the field, clipboard in hand. She was scanning the area for the last few team members to check in on, making sure everyone was hydrated and feeling good. Her eyes fell upon Hayate, who was still stretched out on the grass, seemingly undisturbed by the hustle and bustle around him. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him—his peaceful aura was a sharp contrast to the usual high-energy atmosphere of the field.

She quietly approached him, stepping lightly on the grass, not wanting to disturb his calm. As she drew closer, she looked down at his resting face, her gaze softening. There was something about the way he lay there, completely at ease, that made [Name] feel… relaxed. She admired how effortlessly he seemed to embrace tranquility.

The warmth of the sunlight made her feel at ease as well, and for a moment, she stood there just admiring the scene before her. The wind tugged at her hair, and she thought to herself that it was nice to have moments like this, where everything seemed to slow down and feel right.

Without thinking, [Name] leaned down slightly, wanting to get a little closer.

At that very moment, Hayate’s calm was interrupted by the faintest shift in the air. He felt a presence above him, a quiet disturbance in the atmosphere. His eyes fluttered open slowly, as if drawn to something. When he met [Name’s] gaze, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Ah!" Hayate gasped, his head jerking up instinctively in the direction of her sudden presence. His motion was too quick, and before he could stop it, he collided with her forehead with a soft thunk.

Both of them yelped in pain, the sound echoing across the otherwise quiet field.

“Ow! That hurt!” [Name] exclaimed, her hands immediately flying to her forehead. Her eyes were wide from the sudden shock, and she stumbled back a step, rubbing her head.

Hayate, also wincing from the accidental collision, quickly sat up, his hand going to his own head where it had made contact. “Ah, I’m sorry!” he said, his voice calm, but there was a hint of fluster in his expression as he glanced up at her. "I didn’t expect you to be right there…”

[Name] blinked in confusion but then let out a nervous laugh, brushing a few strands of hair from her face. “I was just checking in on you, Hayate-kun. I didn’t mean to startle you…” She winced slightly as she touched her forehead, still recovering from the bump. “That was quite the greeting.”

Hayate, rubbing his own head with a slightly sheepish expression, shook his head. “No, it’s my fault. I should’ve noticed you approaching. My bad…”

[Name] smiled gently, reassured by his calmness despite the accident. “It’s okay, really. I should have been more careful, too.”

Hayate gave her an easygoing smile, his eyes softening as he relaxed again. “Well, you’ve got me up now, so… what’s up? Was there something you needed?”

[Name], now standing fully upright, took a step back, her expression softening as she observed him more closely. “Actually, I was just making sure everyone was alright. You’ve been out here for a while, and I wanted to check in and see if you were feeling okay. You looked so at peace that I thought I’d let you enjoy it, but I guess I startled you…”

Hayate chuckled quietly, leaning back into the grass and letting out a deep breath. “It’s fine. I’ve just been enjoying the quiet for a bit. I like the feeling of the sun on my skin, and the wind…” His voice trailed off as he looked up at the sky, his eyes half-lidded in contentment. “I guess I needed a little break from all the noise, you know?”

[Name] nodded, understanding. She could see that he wasn’t just physically relaxed but mentally rejuvenated by the peaceful atmosphere. “I get it. Sometimes, the noise of everything can get overwhelming. It’s nice to just take a step back and breathe for a moment.”

Hayate turned his head slightly to look at her, his eyes softening with a rare warmth. “Exactly. That’s why I come here sometimes. It helps me clear my mind.”

[Name] smiled brightly at him, her eyes glimmering with interest. “I think that’s really nice. I mean, I always feel like I’m running around trying to make sure everyone’s doing alright, but there’s something special about taking time for yourself and just appreciating the moment.”

Hayate’s lips curved into a small, quiet smile at her words. “Yeah. It’s important to find peace wherever you can. And it’s not just the quiet; it’s the little things. The plants, the wind, the sky… it all works together to help me stay grounded.”

[Name] tilted her head curiously. “Plants?”

Hayate nodded slowly, his gaze drifting back to the small patch of grass surrounding them. “My grandfather’s a botanist. Growing up, I spent a lot of time with him, learning about different types of plants and the importance of nature. Being around plants helps me feel more connected, more… calm.” His voice took on a slightly nostalgic tone, as if remembering something meaningful. “The scenery here reminds me of the peace I found in those moments.”

[Name’s] expression softened as she took in his words. She hadn’t known that about him. “That sounds wonderful. I think it’s amazing how plants can bring such a sense of calm. Maybe… I should get you a little potted plant as a gift sometime.” She chuckled softly. “It seems fitting.”

Hayate looked at her in surprise, his lips twitching upward into a small, genuine smile. “I’d appreciate that,” he said quietly. “It’s the thought that counts.”

[Name’s] heart warmed as she smiled at him, her fingers gently brushing through her hair. “I’ll make a note of it. Maybe something that can help you feel even more at peace.”

Hayate stretched out his legs, his posture still completely relaxed. “I’ll look forward to it, then.”

The peaceful atmosphere settled around them once again. [Name] stood there for a moment, enjoying the stillness, as the sounds of the team’s training slowly faded into the background. It was nice, she thought, to have this quiet moment with him. His calm, collected nature was something she admired, and in a way, it made her feel just a little more grounded herself.

“Well,” she said, after a moment of quiet contemplation, “I’ll let you get back to your peace and quiet. I just wanted to check in.”

Hayate gave a slight nod, his expression still calm and serene. “Thanks for checking in, [Name]-chan. I’m good here.”

[Name] smiled brightly at him, nodding in return. “Alright then. Take care, Hayate-kun.”

As she walked away, Hayate lay back down on the grass, closing his eyes again, the soft breeze carrying his thoughts far away. [Name] couldn’t help but smile to herself, thinking that it was nice to see someone so at peace with themselves. She’d have to get him that plant one day.

Neru Teppei ➺

The day was slowly winding down, the sun beginning its descent and casting a warm golden light across the field. The sound of heavy breathing and the thud of soccer balls slowly faded as the last few players finished their grueling training sessions. The air felt slightly humid but refreshing, the smell of freshly cut grass mingling with the faint scent of sweat and determination.

[Name] had taken it upon herself to prepare some hearty meals for the team, wanting to ensure everyone refueled after such an intense practice. She had spent the better part of the morning making a large pot of curry, along with some other snacks, and now it was time to distribute the food to the players. She walked through the field with a large container in hand, her eyes scanning for players who might be in need of a break.

As she passed by the others, she saw many of them eagerly waiting for their meals, but her attention was soon drawn to Neru Teppei. He was sitting off to the side, leaning against a bench, looking completely drained. Sweat glistened on his forehead, and his normally bright eyes were half-lidded, a clear sign that he was struggling to keep his energy up.

[Name’s] heart softened at the sight. Teppei was always so energetic and cheerful, and seeing him this tired made her want to help him even more.

She walked up to him with a bright smile, trying her best to lift his spirits. “Hey, Teppei-kun! You look like you’ve been working really hard! Want something to eat?”

Teppei, whose eyes were barely open, immediately perked up at the mention of food. “Food? Did you make food, [Name]-chan?” His voice was a little raspy from exhaustion, but there was a spark of excitement in his eyes at the thought of getting something to eat.

[Name] couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction. “Of course! I made curry for everyone. I figured it would be perfect to help everyone get their energy back after all that running.”

Teppei, despite being on the verge of passing out, sat up straighter, a wide grin forming on his face. “Curry?! That sounds amazing! I’m starving!”

[Name] smiled warmly, her heart swelling with affection for the team member she’d come to care so much about. She bent down slightly, holding out the spoon with a hearty helping of curry. “Here, Teppei-kun, let me feed you! You’ve earned it.”

Teppei’s face immediately turned a deep shade of red as he blinked up at her, surprised by the gesture. His usual cheerfulness didn’t seem to do much to calm his nerves in this moment—being fed by his manager was an overwhelming experience, and he couldn’t help but feel flustered. “W-wait, [Name]-chan, you don’t have to—!”

But before he could finish, [Name] was already bringing the spoon closer to his lips, her eyes full of care and warmth. “Don’t worry, Teppei! You’ve worked so hard today. Let me help you out.”

Teppei’s heart skipped a beat. He opened his mouth without thinking, and before he knew it, the warm curry was in his mouth. The flavors instantly hit his senses, and he couldn’t help but sigh in contentment, his eyes closing in satisfaction. “Mmm… this is so good, [Name]-chan! You’re amazing! I never knew you were such a good cook!” He smiled at her, his cheeks still flushed, both from the food and the moment itself.

[Name] chuckled softly, happy to see him enjoying the meal. “I’m glad you like it! It makes me happy to know that it’s helping everyone.”

Teppei couldn’t stop himself from looking at her with admiration. He had always thought she was kind, but this… this felt different. He felt a warmth growing in his chest—not just from the food, but from the kindness she was showing him. It made him feel special, and he couldn’t deny the butterflies in his stomach as he watched her smile.

As she fed him the next spoonful, [Name] looked down at him and asked, “So, Teppei-kun, tell me something about yourself. What do you like to do when you’re not training?”

Teppei’s eyes lit up as he eagerly replied, “Oh! I love Pokémon! They’re the best! My favorite is Pikachu. He’s just so cute and full of energy, like me! I’ve always wanted to be like him—positive, always there for my friends, and ready for any challenge!”

[Name’s] smile widened. “I love Pokémon too! My favorite is Pachirisu. I think she’s just adorable and so full of spirit. And she’s always so kind-hearted!”

Teppei’s face lit up even more, his excitement clearly evident. “Pachirisu! That’s a great choice! They’re both so cute! I bet they’d make an amazing team!”

[Name] giggled. “Right? I think they’d be the perfect pair. Maybe Pikachu and Pachirisu could be like… you and me!”

Teppei’s eyes widened in surprise at her words, and his heart skipped a beat. Did she… did she just compare herself to his favorite Pokémon? He blushed even harder, his mind racing. He couldn’t help but picture Pikachu and Pachirisu together, and for some reason, it felt right. In his mind, it was almost like a perfect metaphor for the bond he felt with his manager—he, the energetic and cheerful Pikachu, and her, the sweet and kind Pachirisu.

“You think so?” Teppei asked, his voice slightly shaky as he looked up at her with wide eyes, his blush deepening. “I… I like that idea a lot.”

[Name] smiled warmly at him, feeding him another spoonful of curry. “I’m glad! You’re such a hard worker, Teppei-kun. It’s nice to see someone with so much energy and spirit.”

As Teppei ate the food, he couldn’t stop thinking about her words. His heart was fluttering in his chest. There was something so comforting about [Name]—about her kindness and the way she made him feel special. He didn’t want this moment to end. He didn’t want her to go.

As she finished the meal and started to clean up, Teppei couldn’t help but ask, “[Name]-chan, do you think… we could hang out again sometime? Maybe talk a little more? I’d love to chat with you again…”

[Name] paused in her cleaning, turning back to him with a warm smile. “Of course, Teppei-kun! I’d love that. We can talk more once everything’s settled. It’ll be fun!”

Teppei’s heart soared. “I’ll be looking forward to it! Thanks, [Name]-chan.”

As [Name] walked off to clean up the rest of the mess, Teppei sat there, his heart racing, his mind filled with thoughts of Pikachu and Pachirisu—of him and his manager. His smile grew wider as he daydreamed about their next conversation.

Miroku Darai ➺

The gym was unusually quiet, the distant sounds of soccer balls bouncing and players shouting faintly in the background. The air was thick with a serene, peaceful atmosphere as sunlight poured through the large windows, casting soft shadows over the gym floor. There were weights neatly arranged in one corner and a few yoga mats scattered around, but the real center of attention was a single, calm space where a young man sat with perfect stillness.

Miroku Darai, the U-20 team’s spiritual soul, sat cross-legged on a yoga mat in the center of the gym, his black eyes closed in deep meditation. His dark skin contrasted against the faint golden light around him, and his henna tattoos along his arms and neck gave off an aura of calm, almost sacred presence. His breathing was slow and steady, the rhythmic hum of his chant adding to the peaceful energy of the room. He was completely absorbed in the practice, tuning out everything around him as he focused on the stillness within.

[Name] walked into the gym, her usual light-hearted energy trailing behind her. She had a small notebook tucked under her arm, planning to jot down some things for the team’s upcoming schedule. She didn’t expect to find anyone here—let alone Darai in the midst of his peaceful meditation. However, her intentions to keep things quiet were thwarted as she accidentally pushed the door just a little too hard, causing it to slam shut.

The loud thud of the door breaking the stillness made Darai’s eyes snap open, his sharp gaze now fixed on the source of the disturbance. He exhaled sharply, the calm that once enveloped him momentarily broken. The tranquility of the gym seemed to vanish in an instant as he stared at the person who had dared to interrupt his peace.

[Name’s] eyes widened in realization, her cheeks turning red from the embarrassment. She quickly bowed deeply, her words tumbling out in rapid apology.

“I-I’m so sorry, Darai-kun! I didn’t mean to disturb you! I didn’t see you there! Please forgive me!” She bowed again, the sincerity in her voice clear.

Darai let out a long, deep sigh, his lips curling into a slight smile as he observed her flustered form. He had always been a man of few words, and though he had a natural gravitas, his personality was far from harsh. He exhaled slowly, then spoke with an air of calm that returned to him quickly.

“It’s... fine,” he said, his voice deep and soothing, though tinged with a hint of exhaustion from having his peaceful moment interrupted. “It’s not the end of the world, just... a little disruption.” His tone was almost dismissive, as if not holding any ill will, yet still clearly yearning for the peace he had lost.

[Name] straightened, her bowing ceasing, though her expression was still full of concern. “I didn’t mean to bother you while you were meditating. What were you doing, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Darai’s eyes flickered slightly, considering her question. Meditation was something deeply personal to him, a moment of reflection and calm in a world full of chaos. His thoughts paused for a moment before he spoke again.

“I was meditating. Trying to find balance in the chaos,” Darai replied quietly, his gaze thoughtful. “The world is constantly shifting, filled with... noise. I need peace to clear my mind.”

[Name’s] eyes softened, sensing the sincerity in his words. She had always admired how Darai seemed to possess an inner calm, as if he had mastered the art of controlling his mind. It intrigued her, and she found herself drawn to the peacefulness he radiated.

“I can understand that,” [Name] said gently. “It’s hard to find peace in the middle of everything, isn’t it?”

Darai slowly nodded, his gaze turning back to the floor, as if grounding himself again. He didn’t speak for a moment, allowing the room to fill with silence once more. But then, [Name] took a step forward, her voice light but eager.

“Would you mind if I joined you? I don’t know much about meditation, but... I think it would be nice to try.”

Darai’s eyes opened once again, and he glanced at her with slight surprise. For a moment, his usual reluctance to engage in conversation was evident, but he seemed to take in her genuine interest, and his gaze softened. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“If you wish,” Darai said, a rare warmth in his voice. “The peace is not exclusive. Anyone who seeks it is welcome.”

[Name] smiled in return, grateful for his openness. She moved to sit beside him on the mat, copying his posture as best as she could. She folded her legs underneath her and straightened her back, though her mind was racing with excitement and curiosity.

As they sat in silence, the only sounds were the rhythmic hum of Darai’s chanting and the soft sound of breathing between them. [Name] couldn’t help but feel that even in the silence, something unspoken passed between them—an understanding, a bond.

“You have a really calming aura, Darai-kun,” [Name] said, her voice soft and sincere as she sat with her eyes closed, attempting to focus on the stillness. “I can see why so many people gravitate toward you. Your meditation… it’s beautiful.”

Darai’s eyes flickered open, a hint of surprise crossing his expression. He felt his heart skip a beat, a rare sense of fluster hitting him. Why is my heart racing? He thought to himself, as the sudden compliment caused his usual calm demeanor to waver.

Her words echoed in his mind—beautiful. The way she appreciated his practice made him feel a little more seen than usual. It wasn’t often that others took interest in his spiritual side, especially in a world so focused on the physicality of soccer. But [Name’s] earnestness felt different.

“Thank you,” Darai murmured, his voice almost a whisper. He cleared his throat, attempting to refocus. “I believe in balance. Yin and Yang. Life needs both sides to work harmoniously. You can only find peace once you accept both the calm and the chaos.”

[Name] nodded, her eyes still closed as she let his words sink in. She could sense that Darai had a wisdom beyond his years, a quiet strength that came from within. It made her feel connected to him in a way that went beyond mere words.

They continued to meditate in silence, the room becoming even more still as time passed. [Name] found herself relaxing deeply, her mind becoming clearer with each breath she took. For the first time in a long while, she felt completely at ease, sharing a peaceful moment with someone who valued serenity as much as she did.

Cho Kento ➺

The locker room was quiet except for the faint sounds of the occasional rustle of towels and shoes. It was a dimly lit space, the golden glow of the setting sun filtering in through the windows, casting long shadows on the polished floor. The air carried a faint, musky scent of sweat and the lingering freshness of a workout just completed. In the corner, there was a small area with padded mats where players sometimes took a moment to rest or stretch.

Kento Cho, the tall, handsome, and stern member of the U-20 soccer team, sat on one of the benches. His expression was serious, but his furrowed brow hinted at the discomfort he was feeling. His dark hair was still damp from the practice, and his body, which was perfectly sculpted from his rigorous training routine, seemed a little tense. He had been pushing himself hard lately—staying disciplined in both his training and diet, always striving to improve—but something had gone wrong. He felt a sharp, painful pop in his lower back earlier while working through an intense set of exercises, and now the discomfort had settled in.

He was used to pushing through physical pain, but this was different. It felt like something needed to be addressed, or else it could get worse.

Looking over at the door to the locker room, he caught sight of [Name] [Surename], the manager of the team. She was busy tidying up and checking her clipboard, her usual cheerful expression on her face. She had been a steady, supportive presence for the team, always there to help with anything they needed.

Kento hesitated for a moment, then walked over to her. He could see she was immersed in her tasks, and he almost didn’t want to bother her. But the pain was becoming harder to ignore. He cleared his throat.

“[Name],” Kento said, his voice calm but tinged with discomfort. “I... I think I hurt myself during training. There’s this tightness in my back. Do you think you could help me with it?”

[Name] looked up, her eyes widening in concern. She noticed the slight grimace on Kento’s face and immediately put down the clipboard she had been holding.

“Of course! What happened? Is it bad?” she asked, her voice full of concern as she stood up, walking toward him. Her genuine care was apparent, and she was ready to offer her help.

Kento rubbed the back of his neck, his usual stern demeanor softening slightly under the weight of the discomfort. “I think I might’ve pulled something, or it just... popped when I was stretching. It’s a bit painful now. I was hoping you could maybe give me a massage or something. It’s nothing too serious, but... I just need it to feel better.”

[Name] nodded, her brow furrowing with empathy. She had seen the way Kento worked—always so focused, so determined—and she hated to see him in pain. She gestured for him to sit down on the bench, where she had already noticed the soft cushions. She felt a little nervous, but she knew she could help. After all, she had experience with giving her friends and teammates massages before.

“Alright, please take a seat. I’ll do my best to help you out,” [Name] said with a reassuring smile, trying to keep her own unease in check. She gently patted the spot next to her on the bench, encouraging Kento to sit.

Kento did as she asked, slowly lowering himself onto the bench. His eyes closed for a moment, silently grateful for her willingness to help him.

[Name] stood behind him, moving around to his back. Her hands were slightly trembling as she touched his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles that were tense from the strain he had put on them during his workout. Her heart beat a little faster, realizing how close she was to him, how his shirtless form gave her a view of his well-toned body, and how she was about to touch him in a way she had never done before.

She took a deep breath to steady herself, pushing aside her personal thoughts, focusing on her task. She began by gently massaging his shoulders, her fingers pressing into the tight knots in his muscles. Kento let out a small sigh of relief at the pressure being applied to the spots that had been causing him pain.

“That’s... better,” Kento murmured, his voice low and calm. He could feel the tension slowly ebbing away, and it brought a quiet sense of peace. “You’re really good at this, [Name]. I didn’t know you were trained in this sort of thing.”

[Name] smiled, though her cheeks flushed slightly at his compliment. “I’m not exactly trained, but I’ve helped out with my friends before. I’m really glad it’s helping.”

Her hands moved further down his back, applying gentle but firm pressure as she worked on his lower back. As her hands made contact with his skin, she couldn’t help but feel the warmth radiating from his body. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the clean, sweaty scent of post-practice—it was almost intoxicating. [Name] quickly turned her attention back to her task, focusing on the sensation of his muscles relaxing beneath her touch.

Kento leaned back slightly, his eyes closing in relaxation. He could feel his body letting go of the tension, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to relax fully. “You’ve got a really good touch,” he murmured, his voice now almost quiet, filled with appreciation. “I think... I think I might’ve been too hard on myself lately. I don’t always know when to stop pushing.”

[Name’s] hands paused for a moment as she heard his words. She could hear the underlying frustration in his voice, the weight of his dedication to always strive for the best. “Kento, you’re already working so hard. You don’t have to do everything all at once,” she said, her voice warm but firm. “It’s okay to take breaks when your body tells you it needs one.”

Kento stayed silent for a moment, and then he exhaled deeply, as if he were releasing some of his own internal tension. He didn’t usually talk about his limits. He always had this intense drive to be better, to be perfect. But hearing [Name’s] reassuring words, he felt a sense of peace he hadn’t realized he needed.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with a sense of gratitude. “You’re right.”

[Name] smiled softly, her hands continuing their soothing motions. She had never expected such a heartfelt moment to arise from something as simple as helping him with a massage. It felt like she was getting to see a different side of Kento—one that was more vulnerable and human.

As she continued to ease the tension from his back, [Name] couldn’t help but feel a little flustered by the proximity and the way his muscles shifted beneath her touch. She had always admired Kento’s strong and disciplined nature, but this more relaxed side of him was... surprisingly endearing. It made her realize just how much she enjoyed being close to him, even in such an intimate moment, helping him to feel better.

Kento’s eyes opened after a few minutes, and he shifted slightly, turning his head slightly to look at her. “I’m really grateful for this, [Name],” he said quietly, his voice almost soft. “I’ll... try to take things a little easier from now on.”

[Name] nodded, her smile widening. “I’m glad I could help. Take care of yourself, Kento. You’re doing amazing, but even the strongest people need to rest.”

Kento looked over his shoulder at her, his serious expression softening with a hint of admiration. “Thanks. You’re always so kind... I’ll keep that in mind.”

The two shared a quiet moment of understanding before [Name] finished the massage. Kento stood up with a slow stretch, feeling the relief in his back. He was grateful for the care she had shown him and the peace she had given him during his moment of pain.

Wakatsuki Itsuki➺

The soft hum of the night was the only sound that filled the dormitory. Most of the team had long since fallen asleep after a long and tiring day of training. The quietness of the building felt peaceful, with the occasional sound of distant crickets outside. The cool night air seeped through the slightly cracked windows, adding a calm, almost serene atmosphere to the space.

The lights in the hallway were dim, casting soft shadows along the floor, and the quiet murmur of the wind outside was the only thing that could be heard. Inside one of the rooms, Wakatsuki Itsuki lay on his futon, his eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. His body was still, but his mind was restless.

Itsuki had always struggled with sleep. The quiet of the night was supposed to bring comfort, but instead, it only amplified the thoughts racing through his head. He flipped over onto his side and pulled the blanket tighter around him, trying to find a comfortable position. But no matter how much he tossed and turned, he couldn't find any peace. The quiet was deafening, and his insomnia was taking its usual toll on him.

Finally, after what felt like hours of tossing and turning, he gave up on trying to sleep. He quietly slipped out from under his blanket, careful not to wake his teammates. The cold wooden floor felt oddly comforting under his bare feet as he padded softly to the door.

He crept down the hallway, his black hair falling over his eyes as he tried to sneak past the others' rooms. His footsteps were light, but his mind was still racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite shake. He made his way toward the kitchen area, hoping a glass of water might help soothe the restlessness that refused to leave him.

But as he turned a corner, his hand brushed the doorframe, and he stumbled slightly. He lost his balance, and before he could steady himself, he collided with someone else.

“Ah!” a startled voice exclaimed as both figures bumped into each other. Itsuki’s heart skipped a beat as he quickly took a step back, trying to apologize for his clumsiness.

“I-I’m so sorry!” Itsuki stammered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He immediately looked down at the floor, feeling awkward and unsure of what to do.

[Name] [Surename], the team’s manager, was standing there with wide eyes, clearly surprised by the collision. Her face softened, and she giggled softly, brushing a few strands of her long black hair out of her face.

“No need to apologize, Itsuki!” she said with a warm, reassuring smile. “It’s no big deal. Are you okay?”

Itsuki looked up quickly, his gaze meeting hers for a brief moment. The contact made his heart race even faster, and he felt his cheeks burn with a sudden, intense heat. He quickly nodded, too embarrassed to say much else. The warmth from her smile made him feel even more self-conscious, and he found himself frozen in place, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m... I’m fine,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. The quietness of his words made him feel even more timid and small.

[Name] tilted her head, her smile still soft and kind. “You’re sure? You look a little tired,” she said gently. “It’s pretty late, too. Are you having trouble sleeping?”

Itsuki was caught off guard by how perceptive she was. He nodded again, though his head was lowered slightly in embarrassment. “I... I can’t sleep,” he whispered, the words barely leaving his lips. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was feeling vulnerable now. “I just... I didn’t want to wake anyone.”

[Name’s] eyes softened even further as she stepped closer to him. She could tell that Itsuki was trying to hide his discomfort, but she could see right through it. She didn’t want him to feel alone or restless, especially when the team needed to be well-rested for the next day’s training.

“Well... if you’re feeling restless, maybe you could come with me to my room?” [Name] offered, her tone warm and inviting. “It’s a little quieter there. I could make sure you get some rest, if you’d like.”

Itsuki froze for a moment, his mind racing with uncertainty. The idea of being in a room alone with [Name] was both comforting and terrifying at the same time. He wasn’t used to being so close to someone else—especially not someone as warm and friendly as her. But he didn’t want to refuse her kindness. After a few moments of internal hesitation, he finally whispered, “I-I don’t want to be a bother…”

[Name] smiled gently and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It’s no trouble at all, Itsuki,” she said softly, her voice soothing. “I just want you to feel comfortable and get some sleep. I’ll be there if you need anything.”

Her kindness eased his anxiety a little. He nodded, though he still felt a little flustered. “Thank you...”

[Name] led him down the hallway toward her room. The door creaked slightly as she opened it, revealing the cozy, quiet space inside. A futon was already set up on the floor, and there was a faint scent of lavender in the air from the small sachet near the window. The soft lighting from a nearby lamp created a peaceful, calming atmosphere.

“There we go,” [Name] said with a smile. “This should be a little more comfortable for you. I’ll just sleep here on the futon too. You’re not bothering me, I promise.”

Itsuki hesitated for a moment, his cheeks turning pink again. The idea of lying next to her was almost too much for him to handle, but he knew she just wanted to help. “I... thank you,” he whispered again.

[Name] made sure to fluff the blankets and settled down beside him on the futon. “Just relax, okay?” she said gently. “You can rest now.”

For a moment, they both lay there in the soft silence, the only sound being the gentle rustle of the sheets and the soft rhythm of their breathing. Itsuki tried to calm his racing heart, feeling incredibly self-conscious and nervous next to her. But [Name] didn’t seem to mind. She just smiled softly and looked over at him, her eyes sparkling in the low light.

After a few moments, she began humming a gentle tune, one that was soothing and peaceful, like a lullaby. Itsuki felt his eyelids grow heavy as the soft melody lulled him into a peaceful daze. The soft, calming sound was like a weight being lifted from his chest, and soon, he found himself drifting off to sleep.

His breathing slowed, and he let out a soft sigh of relief as he finally succumbed to the sleep he had been fighting for so long. [Name], noticing that he had finally relaxed, gently tucked him in, her fingers brushing the top of his head as she smiled to herself.

As she lay down next to him, she hummed softly again, the sound filling the room like a gentle breeze. Soon, she too drifted into slumber, her own heart warmed by the quiet peace of the moment.

Kitsunenzato Teru ➺

The day had been long, filled with intense training sessions and moments of both frustration and triumph. The team had worked hard, pushing themselves to their limits, and now it was time for a brief break before heading to dinner. The locker room buzzed with the sounds of teammates chatting, some laughing, and others still catching their breath from the workout.

[Name] [Surename] was standing near the door, her notebook in hand, jotting down notes about the day’s training and team dynamics. She’d always been so caught up in organizing and helping out the team, but there was something special about these small moments she shared with each of the members. Tonight, though, she found her gaze drawn toward one particular player: Kitsunenzato Teru, the cheerful and optimistic forward with light salmon-colored hair and his signature panda-like nose.

Teru had been chatting with a few of his teammates, but as soon as he noticed [Name’s] presence, he waved at her with a bright smile, his signature blue doe eyes sparkling in the dim light of the locker room. [Name] waved back, her usual grin spreading across her face as she walked over toward him.

“Hey, [Name]!” Teru greeted her, his energy always so infectious. “I was actually hoping you could help me with something.”

[Name] tilted her head, genuinely curious. “Sure! What is it?”

Teru’s smile widened, and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Well… it’s my hair. I’ve been trying to tie it into a bun for a while, but I just can’t seem to do it the way I want.” He sighed dramatically, his eyes sparkling with a playful glint. “Do you think you could help me out?”

[Name] couldn’t help but laugh softly at his cute antics. Teru always had this ability to make things feel lighthearted, no matter the situation. She nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! I’d be happy to help. Let’s see what we can do.”

Teru led her to a nearby bench where he sat down, giving her an exaggerated bow. “Thank you so much, [Name]! I’ve been really struggling with this.”

[Name] chuckled and knelt down in front of him, her fingers already reaching for his soft hair. She picked up a brush from her bag and started to run it through his light salmon strands, gently untangling any knots that had formed.

As she worked, they began chatting, sharing stories and exchanging jokes, with Teru constantly offering playful comments and making her laugh. The atmosphere was warm, comfortable, like a quiet bubble where it was just the two of them, outside the chaos of the rest of the team.

“You know,” [Name] said, as she worked on the final touches, “I think you’d make a pretty good hairstylist with how much you care about your hair.” She smirked teasingly.

Teru blinked in mock offense, his hands going to his hips. “Hey, I take my hair very seriously, alright? Gotta look good on and off the field, you know? It’s all about presentation!”

[Name] giggled, her fingers deftly tying the final loop of the bun. “I can tell! But honestly, it’s not bad at all. It suits you.”

Teru beamed at her, a proud twinkle in his eye. “Really? You think so? I’ve never had someone tie it for me before. I think I might even keep it like this for the next game.”

[Name] smiled, stepping back to admire her handiwork. His bun was neat, secure, and definitely looked more polished than the usual messy style. “There we go,” she said with satisfaction, brushing her hands off. “I think it looks great.”

Teru jumped up from the bench, his face lighting up with joy as he twirled in front of her, showing off the new hairstyle. “Wow, this looks awesome! I can’t believe I’ve been struggling with this for so long!”

[Name] watched him with a fond smile, her heart warmed by his unbridled enthusiasm. “I’m glad you like it! You look amazing, Teru.”

Before she could react, Teru took a step toward her, and in a sudden burst of affection, he wrapped her in a tight hug. [Name] froze, taken aback by the sudden warmth of his embrace, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Teru’s hug was sincere, his energy and gratitude pouring into the simple act.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he said, his voice muffled as he held her tightly. “I’m so happy with it, [Name]. You really helped me out!”

[Name] blinked, her face flushing slightly, but she quickly recovered. She smiled warmly and returned the hug, her arms gently wrapping around his back. “I’m happy I could help, Teru,” she said softly. “I’m always here if you need anything.”

The hug lasted just a moment longer before Teru pulled back, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re the best, [Name]!” he exclaimed. “I’ll owe you a snack or something later, okay?”

[Name] laughed, brushing a few strands of her own hair behind her ear. “No need to owe me anything! It was fun.”

Teru winked at her, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. “I insist! A snack is definitely in order for such a fine hairstyle.”

She chuckled, feeling her heart warm at the interaction. Teru always knew how to lift her spirits. “Alright, alright. But only if it’s something really sweet.”

Teru gave a mock salute, his grin growing wider. “You got it! A sweet treat for the sweet manager!”

As the two of them laughed and continued their conversation, the locker room felt just a little bit brighter. Even with the chaos of the training sessions, moments like these—where the team came together, laughing and supporting one another—were what truly made [Name] feel that she was part of something special. Teru’s kindness, like the rest of the team’s, filled her with warmth, and she couldn’t help but feel grateful for the chance to be a part of their lives.

Gen Fukaku ➺

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow through the windows of the training facility. The last of the players were finishing up their cooldown exercises, some stretching on mats and others talking in groups. [Name] [Surename] was in the corner of the room, organizing her notes on the day's training, but her thoughts were somewhere else. She had spent the day with the team, bonding with each player, but there was one player she hadn't spent much time with yet: Gen Fukaku, the team's serious and reserved goalkeeper.

Fukaku had always been somewhat of an enigma. His serious demeanor, combined with his tendency to keep to himself, made him hard to approach. While the other players seemed to have their personalities shine through in their interactions with [Name], Fukaku remained a mystery to her. But she knew he was just as much a part of the team, and she wanted to show him that he was seen and appreciated as much as the others.

As she stood up, deciding to take a small break from her work, she looked around and spotted him. Fukaku Gen was sitting near the far end of the room, his tall frame hunched slightly as he tied his shoes. His expression, as always, was serious, and his eyes focused on the task at hand.

[Name] took a deep breath and walked over to him, carrying a small tin of homemade cookies she had baked earlier. She had been looking forward to sharing them with the team, but something about Fukaku’s quiet nature made her especially want to offer him a sweet treat.

When she approached him, he didn’t immediately acknowledge her presence, his attention still on his shoes. [Name] hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Hey, Fukaku,” she said softly, her voice gentle yet filled with warmth. “I made some sweets for the team today. Would you like one?”

Fukaku paused for a moment, his hands still holding his shoe laces. He glanced up at her, surprise flickering in his brown eyes. “You… made these for us?” His voice was low, almost hesitant, as though he didn’t quite believe it.

[Name] nodded, offering the tin with a smile. “Yeah! I thought you might like one. They’re cookies. I hope you like them.”

For a moment, Fukaku just stared at the tin, his expression unreadable. [Name] felt a bit nervous under his gaze but held the tin out for him, her smile never wavering. Finally, he sighed softly and slowly took the tin from her hand. He opened it, picking out a cookie and inspecting it carefully as though evaluating its quality.

[Name] stood there, watching him with a soft, patient smile, her hands clasped together in front of her.

Fukaku didn’t say anything right away. He broke off a small piece of the cookie and took a bite. [Name’s] heart raced a little as she waited for his response. The silence between them stretched for a few moments before he finally looked up, his brown eyes meeting hers.

“…It’s good,” he said, his voice as serious as ever. “Very sweet. You did a good job.”

[Name] beamed at the compliment, feeling her cheeks warm. She had been a little unsure if he would even enjoy the cookies, considering how reserved he was, but hearing him speak so honestly about it made her feel a sense of accomplishment.

“I’m glad you like it!” she said enthusiastically, her voice brightening. “If you want, I can bake more for you sometime.”

Fukaku’s expression softened just a touch, and [Name] noticed the slight change. It was subtle, but it was there. He placed the cookie tin down beside him, and for a moment, he just looked at her quietly.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, his voice quieter this time, almost as if he was trying to make himself more vulnerable. “But... thank you. No one’s ever done something like this for me.”

[Name’s] heart ached a little at his words, and she bent down slightly to get on his level, her eyes filled with genuine care. “Well, I just wanted to show you that I appreciate you, Fukaku. You’re a big part of the team, and I’m really glad you’re here.”

Fukaku blinked, his eyebrows furrowing as if processing her words. He wasn’t used to being so openly praised or shown kindness. His brow furrowed slightly, and he looked down at the tin again, his fingers brushing over the cookies.

“…I’m not good at talking,” he admitted after a beat, his voice more vulnerable than she had ever heard it. “I don’t… say much. But I do care about the team.”

[Name] smiled softly, understanding that words weren’t always Fukaku’s forte. She placed a hand on his shoulder, a simple gesture meant to convey her appreciation. “I know. You don’t have to say anything to prove how much you care. Your actions speak louder than words.”

For the briefest moment, Fukaku’s face softened, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He looked at her, then back down at the cookie tin, his fingers playing with the edge. “You’re different, [Name],” he said quietly, more to himself than to her. “Most people just see the expression, the quiet... they don’t see beyond it.”

[Name’s] heart fluttered, and she nodded gently. “I see you, Fukaku. You don’t have to be anyone else around me.”

The air between them grew comfortable, and Fukaku slowly took another cookie, this time without hesitation. He didn’t smile, but the small gesture—him accepting the cookie and acknowledging her presence in his own way—spoke volumes.

“Thank you,” he said again, this time with a quiet sincerity that made [Name’s] heart swell. “I’ll… I’ll try to make more time for these things.”

[Name] smiled brightly, her chest feeling warm at the unexpected bond they were forming. “Anytime, Fukaku. I’m always here if you want to talk—or if you want more sweets.”

Fukaku chuckled softly, his expression still stoic but with a slight softening in his eyes. “Maybe just a little more.”

As she walked away to continue her rounds, [Name] felt a renewed sense of connection with the team. It wasn’t always about grand gestures or words; sometimes, just sharing a simple moment of kindness was all it took to make someone feel seen.

-`♡´-

-`♡Our Manager♡´-

The day had been long—too long, if [Name] were being honest. She had spent hours tracking the players' training progress, handing out water, taking notes, and making sure every one of them had what they needed to perform at their best. It was rewarding, of course, but the exhaustion was starting to catch up with her.

As the last few players finished their individual drills, [Name] took a moment to sit at the table in the team office. Her head rested in her hands as she tried to catch her breath. The hum of the lights and the occasional shuffle of feet filled the otherwise quiet space.

She yawned, stretching her arms overhead. Her eyes were heavy, and despite trying to stay alert, she couldn’t fight the pull of sleep much longer. Slowly, her eyes fluttered closed, and her head drooped toward the desk. The paperwork that had piled up throughout the day became too much for her to keep her focus on, and in the end, she simply succumbed to the fatigue, drifting off to sleep on the table, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

The room was still, save for the occasional sound of footsteps echoing down the hall. Unbeknownst to her, the team had noticed her fall asleep, each one of them quietly observing their manager as she rested.

-`♡´-

Haru Hayate was the first to notice. The tall, calm player glanced over from the doorway, his usual serene demeanor softening with concern. Seeing [Name], slumped over at the table, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. He knew how hard she had worked that day. Without a word, he stepped quietly into the room, a light breeze of calm following him as he moved to cover her.

Gently, he draped a blanket over her, ensuring she was comfortable. The soft fabric rustled as he settled it over her shoulders. He paused for a moment, just watching her as she slept, a small smile tugging at his lips. The peace that surrounded her in that moment was rare in the busy training facility, and it reminded him of how much the team appreciated her.

As he left, he whispered, “Rest well, [Name].”

-`♡´-

Kitsunenzato Teru was next to come in. His bright and cheery energy had a slight hum of excitement even now as he saw [Name] sleeping. The sight of her exhaustion struck him, and he wanted to do something nice for her, something small to show his appreciation.

He quickly found a small snack on the counter, a bar of chocolate that he knew would provide a burst of energy once she woke. He placed it beside her on the table, with a small note that simply read, “A little treat for the best manager!” He grinned at his handiwork and took a step back, admiring his thoughtful gesture.

“Sweet dreams, manager,” he whispered with a wink before quietly leaving the room.

-`♡´-

Miroku Darai, always in touch with his inner peace, stood outside the door, observing with quiet understanding. He saw how [Name] had given her all to the team that day. Her exhaustion was clear, and while she may not have asked for help, Darai felt the need to offer her something soothing.

He entered the room and quietly prepared a cup of tea—chamomile and honey, the perfect remedy for a long day. He placed the warm cup next to her, the steam curling up in the air, the aroma soothing and calming. A small note accompanied it: “For rest and relaxation. May you find peace in this cup.”

With a quiet nod, Darai left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

-`♡´-

Sendou Shuuto walked in next. His loud and boisterous personality had been subdued for once, replaced by a quiet concern as he surveyed the sleeping [Name]. He couldn’t help but notice how much she had taken on during the day. In an act of kindness, he gently gathered up the scattered papers she had been working on and neatly organized them into a pile, ensuring everything was in order.

As he worked, he couldn’t resist glancing over at her. She was still so serene in her sleep, and it made him smile softly. Before leaving, he jotted down a quick note, scrawling, “For the best manager ever—don’t overwork yourself!” and placed it on top of the papers. With a final smile, he quietly exited.

-`♡´-

Oliver Aiku, always the flirt, couldn’t help but notice [Name’s] peaceful slumber as he passed by the open door. He stopped for a moment, watching her, and a small grin spread across his face. As he entered, he silently watched her for a beat, before picking up a sticky note and scribbling something quickly.

“You’re amazing. Don’t push yourself too hard. Take care of yourself!”

He placed it gently on her desk, right by her hand, and with a last glance at the peaceful manager, he quietly slipped out of the room, his heart swelling with a protective feeling he rarely showed.

-`♡´-

Kento Cho, ever the serious one, took one last look around the training facility, his eyes scanning for any unfinished tasks. As he passed the office, he saw [Name] resting on the desk. He paused, walking over to her silently. His hand hovered for a moment before he gently placed a bottle of water next to her.

The note he left was short and simple, but meaningful: “Stay hydrated. Don’t forget to take care of yourself.”

He sighed, shaking his head as if to remind himself to take his own advice. With one final glance, he turned and quietly left.

-`♡´-

Neru Teppei was next. He grinned as he spotted the sleeping manager, her exhaustion clear. Unlike the others, Teppei couldn’t resist one more playful gesture. He grabbed a bright sticky note and scribbled something silly: “Pikachu and Pachirisu forever! Rest up, manager!”

With that, he quickly grabbed a sweet treat, a small cupcake he had stashed away, and placed it near her hand. Teppei gave one last, heartfelt smile and crept out of the room, his heart light with the affection he felt for their manager.

-`♡´-

Itsuki Wakatsuki had been standing outside for some time, uncertain if he should enter. But seeing everyone else leave, he decided to slip in quietly. As a gentle, introverted person, he didn’t want to disturb her rest, but he wanted to leave something behind to show his appreciation.

He quietly placed a small note by her side, written in his delicate handwriting: “Thank you for always being there for us. Please get some rest.”

With a deep breath and a tiny, bashful smile, he left the room without a sound.

-`♡´-

Fukaku Gen, ever the serious one, took a moment to consider the situation. He saw his manager sleeping soundly, her exhaustion apparent. He silently stepped over to her desk and placed a simple note beside her: “Take care of yourself. You’re appreciated more than you know.” It was brief, but in his usual quiet way, it conveyed everything he wanted to say.

Fukaku turned, leaving the room with nothing more than a soft sigh.

-`♡´-

Nio Kazuma, the final one to peek in, stood quietly at the doorway, watching his manager sleep. He had witnessed her effort firsthand that day. He could tell that she was the type of person who always gave everything, even when it wasn’t asked of her. With a small smile, he left a note beside her with a few simple words: “Rest well, manager. You’ve earned it.”

-`♡´-

[Name] slowly stirred from her nap, stretching lazily as she blinked her eyes open. Her body was sore from the long day, but there was something oddly comforting about the scene before her. She looked around the desk and found that the chaos of papers was now neatly organized. There was a warm cup of tea by her side, a blanket gently draped over her shoulders, and a sweet treat waiting for her. A small smile tugged at her lips as she read the notes that had been left for her.

“For the best manager ever—don’t overwork yourself!” “Stay hydrated. Don’t forget to take care of yourself.” “Pikachu and Pachirisu forever!” and many more words of encouragement and care from her players.

Her heart swelled with gratitude as she took in the small gestures from each of them. She silently thanked her team for being so thoughtful, for looking out for her, and for making her feel appreciated.

As she stood, stretching once more, she felt an overwhelming sense of warmth and affection. Though the day had been long and taxing, this quiet moment made it all worth it.

-`♡´-

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© 2024 Ｖｅｌｖｅｔｅｅｎ 平和な目覚め— do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform without my permission!

[nautical-language]

Cowboy Carter - Why it matters that Beyonce finally won Album of the Year at the Grammy’s for this album, specifically.

I grew up listening to exclusively modern country and classic rock, genres which both owe their existence to Black people (and by Black I do mean African American) but have been whitewashed.

I have literally had Cowboy Carter on repeat since it came out; easily my favorite country album of all time, if not just my favorite album, period.

If you don’t wanna read it all, here’s the short version: Cowboy Carter is a truly seamless blend of country and other musical styles that pays homage to the genre’s greatest musicians and mirrors the ways Black music has transformed, and been transformed by, U.S. culture. Never forget: the only musical genres that were created in the U.S. (jazz, hip-hop, rock, country, and more) were created by Black people.

Although it’s a country album—and it IS, undeniably, a country album!—Cowboy Carter is structured like a classic hip-hop album, including an “anthem” song that intros and outros the album (“AMERIICAN REQIUEM”) and intermissions where other famous stars of the country genre dap up Queen Bey.

Specifically, white country music legends Willie Nelson and Dolly Parton introduce the album/songs. That’s not just significant because they’re white or because they’re genre icons, but ALSO because they are icons of the country music era that—while predominantly white—actually still focused on the OG working class, blue collar themes of the genre. (Explaining how country music has changed over time is something I can’t even get into here, but the point is that Beyonce had white authentic country music legends introduce her album, as opposed to modern country music stars. It legitimizes the album as a country album the same way having a more famous rapper introduce your song/album would legitimize it as true rap.)

The first half of Cowboy Carter is much more “classically country,” while the second half is a bolder blend of country with other genres. In the intermission where Willie Nelson introduces the back half of the album, he literally says, “I’m here because sometimes it takes someone you trust to turn you onto some real good shit.” It’s this beautiful moment of authentic artistry and cultural exchange, because not only is Willie Nelson introducing white country lovers to Black music, Beyonce has also introduced Black r&b/hip-hop/rap fans to country music.

People who think Beyonce did a country album to prove she can cross genres like taylor swift are completely missing the point. First of all, Cowboy Carter is the second in a planned album trilogy, with each album paying homage to a different musical genre/group of genres created by Black people. The first installment was Renaissance, a trap/house album. Beyonce had originally planned to start the trilogy with Cowboy Carter, but chose to release Renaissance first in 2022 because she felt like “people needed to dance.”

As part of Beyonce’s career, Cowboy Carter also exists in a very specific context: https://www.vulture.com/article/beyonce-cmas-the-chicks-oral-history.html. After all the shit that happened during and after Beyonce’s performance of “Daddy Lessons” at the 2016 CMAs, “Cowboy Carter” didn’t even get NOMINATED at this year’s CMAs (and then it won this year’s grammy for best country album AND album of the year, so FUCK those racist assholes). Beyonce literally referenced the 2016 CMAs in the instagram post announcing Cowboy Carter.

In my mind, Billboard and the CMAs snubbing Lil Naz X’s wildly popular “Old Town Road” in 2019 must’ve only added fuel to the fire.*

So the planned album trilogy — and, of course, Cowboy Carter in particular — are a reaction to the whitewashing of genres created by Black people and the cultural appropriation that happens when modern Black artists are excluded from the genres they/their predecessors created.

*Note that Beyonce paired up with Miley Cyrus for “II MOST WANTED” on Cowboy Carter. Why would that matter? Because Miley’s dad is country artist Billy Ray Cyrus, who was notably one of the only modern white country musicians to publicly condemn the industry for its treatment of Lil Nas X’s “Old Town Road,” to the point that Billy Ray Cyrus literally did a version of Old Town Road with Lil Nas X as a way of legitimizing the song as real country music.

Other standout moments on the album—and these are just the ones I’ve caught:

-“BLACKBIIRD” (2nd song on the album) has Beyonce and 4 other, less well-known WOC cover the beatles’ “Blackbird,” which Paul McCartney wrote in honor of the Black women of the U.S. civil rights movement.

-At the end of “DAUGHTER,” Beyonce seamlessly transitions into the operatic aria “Caro Mio Ben.” If that doesn’t tell you what a flawless genre-blender this album is, I don’t know what will.

-Track 10 is “JOLENE,” which is Beyonce’s version of Dolly Parton’s song of the same name. Beyonce’s cover directly mirrors the way white artists took over the country music genre by covering and sampling songs originally created by Black artists.

-Every single track is a bop, but IMO, the album’s crowning achievement is “YA YA.” The song is amazing, and my favorite moment is when Beyonce does an impression of Elvis, who built his reputation as the King of Rock and Roll by doing an impression of Chuck Berry. “YA YA” features samples from country songs created or made famous by white artists (“These Boots Are Made For Walking” by Nancy Sinatra and “Good Vibrations” by The Beach Boys, plus a ton of other references—literally just go read YA YA’s Genius page), once again intentionally subverting the phenomenon of white artists covering Black artist’s music and receiving greater acclaim.

[hayleysayshay]

Okay this is what I dislike about Keyleth’s storyline in season three of TLOVM, and the Vaxleth romance.

Here’s what is happens between them:

Keyleth in episode one, is angry at Raishan and the group for choosing to work with her. She is ready for a relationship with Vax, who pushes her away.

Then in episode three, we reiterate that she is ready for a relationship with Vax, who is pushing her away. Throughout the eps we get a reminder that Keyleth is mad at Vax for this. Vax is the problem.

In episode six, Vax and Keyleth have an awkward convo.

In episode eight, Vax and Keyleth sleep together after Percy’s death. Things can change at any moment, they’re better off for acting on their feelings.

Episode ten: Keyleth fucks off, angry at Vax and the othere for not listening to her over Raishan

Episode eleven: we are told that Keyleth needs to open her heart up to love and Vax. She does so, level up, she forgives Vax.

Episode twelve: Keyleth uses her power up to body Raishan solo. Her and Vax are together.

The problem is that Keyleth’s romance storyline is very disconnected from her storyline with Raishan, and they try and tie them together at the end and fail to do so.

Keyleth doesn’t have an issue with letting Vax love her. She loves him at the start. Vax has the problem. He’s the one who needs to learn to let Keyleth in. This in contrast to the campaign, where Keyleth is the more hesitant member. It takes her a while to be ready for Vax. Vax is happy to wait for her. In TLOVM, from the start of s3, Keyleth doesn’t have this problem, she’s ready and waiting. She is ready to be vulnerable with Vax, she wants him, even when they disagree over Raishan at the start.

But then, we’re told Keyleth has a problem with loving Vax. But she doesn’t. She just feels betrayed and confused over the group’s support of Raishan. So what she need to work through is managing conflict with the group, her morals and sense of betrayal. I think being a leader means that you are able to manage these feelings of betrayal.

Letting herself love Vax helps ground her, then she passes the Earth Trial.

I do get that it’s meant to be ‘let yourself love him even if he hurts you sometimes’ BUT it does feel like we’re yo-yoing motivations for Keyleth here. She was ready for Vax to love her after Percy died, despite him hurting her in the previous episodes.

By focussing on Vax, we don’t get to the root issues Keyleth has with Raishan. She’s grieving her people, and feels anger and rage. The solution is she needs to love. But what if it happens again, when someone lets her down who isn’t Vax?

Instead her solution is to just murder Raishan solo, but she doesn’t learn to lean on anyone, or let anyone in who isn’t Vax.

There’s a line in the death letter in the campaign from Percy to Vox Machina, the part addressed to Keyleth: learn to forgive the world for not living up to your standards. It can be considered patronising, but it’s true. Keyleth is the most moral, ‘preachy’ member of Vox Machina. TLOVM avoids this characterisation — I think it’s fine in season one where she’s finding her inner strength but should be leaning into her morality after she finds her voice. After all, wouldn’t being leader of the air Ashari mean you’d confront these problems all day? But taking focus away from Keyleth’s problems with Raishan (that aren’t just ‘VM betrayed me over her’) and making the resolution just be loving Vax, we’re not confronting or delving into Keyleth as a character in her own right. It attempts to, but the yo-yo nature of the Vaxleth relationship in season three just means we spend more time on arguments and less time on the deeper reasons why they’re at odds.

What I would propose:

Ep 1: Vax and Keyleth both mutually agree that they’re not able to be in a relationship: Keyleth unsure about it outliving everyone (cut Vax’s stupid visions) and Vax is unsure of his destiny with the RQ. This cuts out the repetitive arguments and conflict in the first half. They’re both on the same page, they’re just both stupid.

Cut the ep 3 argument (don’t worry humour lovers, Vax can still be outside her door, wondering if he should knock so he bumps into Percy).

Eps 4-6, Instead of Keyleth being mad at Vax, focus more in on Keyleth’s general rage and grief at Raishan. Vax wants to comfort her but neither are allowing themselves to get too close.

Keep ep 6 awkward chat after the hot tub.

Keep ep 8 banging, but before this add in Percy’s death letter (to make everything extra sad)

Ep 10-11 (I’d rework Ripley’s death to be Ep 7 or 8 so Keyleth isn’t alone) but have Keyleth’s trial be more about the group as a whole and how the people around her ground her to face problems: she can’t do this solo, that completing her trials means she needs to understand leadership, and it means working with people she thinks are going to be wrong, and that includes her friends, and how to navigate that and let the anger go. She talks with Grog before the trial about how he controls his rage: it’s family.

Then Keyleth bodies Raishan with the help of her friends in Ep 12 :) then Vaxleth smooch

Keyleth in the campaign is the most moral and preachy member. Some said it was annoying, I say it’s interesting. But in TLOVM, her arc is flattened down and tied to romance. Vax is incredibly important to her in the campaign but he’s not the only thing that matters to her.

But alas, romance over characterisation or themes is a predominant issue in TLOVM, especially with Vaxleth.

[the-unexplained-council]

Pillow; Gideon Coal

Legends of Avantris; Once Upon a Witchlight

Summary: Gideon is a lot more soft-hearted than you originally thought. You never would have imagined that the genasi would start letting more and more of his walls down the more the both of you seem to grow together. After he thrones himself as your personal pillow, you can’t help but fall for him as the days go on.

CW: Slight OOC Gideon(? I’ve never actually written him before, even as a side character, so please lmk if this is OOC or Canon leaning 🙏), Alcohol/Booze (no drunkenness; tipsiness), slowburn(?), slight Kremy x reader/poly coalecroux x reader but it’s mostly Gideon, kinda ass lmao.

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: Thank you Anon for giving me this idea! I usually feel weird writing Gideon without Kremy or vice versa, and I’m not sure proud of this fic overall but I think I figured it out. <33 Again, thank you for the idea and hope you all enjoy!

-~-~-~-

The sounds of empty glasses clinking together, echoed laughter, and chatting about kept your ears stimulated. It wasn’t loud by any means, but it kept your senses busy. The whiff of whiskey and other booze wafted your way, filling your nose. You could almost taste it. It was a comfortable and relaxing setting.

You leaned into the soft corner of the bar couch, a glass of booze loosely in your hand. You watched as Frost sipped his drink at the bar counter, his goblin companion shotgunning some random alcohol someone gave him. Torbek and Twig were messing with the game machines in the corner, trying to figure out how to play without the coins required. Kremy was nowhere to be seen, the designated sober one of the group off doing god knows what for the time being.

Gideon sat beside you on the other end of the couch, laughing with the glass of whiskey and coke perked against his lips as a girl told him a joke. The little ember sparks erupted from his hair and beard from the tipsy joy, his ears wiggling at the ends. He took up a third of the couch just on his own, though the flirting girl sitting on the arm of it definitely made him look a bit bigger.

You listened to their conversation loosely, used to the shenanigans that often came with being with the group when alcohol was involved. You had only been traveling with them for a few months, four at most, and in that time you all had only had drinks together a handful of times. The tipsiness lightened the mood, coaxed muscles to relax and brains to muddle. It was nice when the group didn’t overdo it.

You felt a nudge and blinked, glancing towards Gideon who was empty of a girl glued to his side. His whiskey glass was gone, though the smell of it wasn’t gone. “Hm?”

“I was askin’ what you were starin’ so hard at,” Gideon lightheartedly inquired, nudging you once more in a joking tone. “Alcohol isn’t fryin’ ya is it?”

You smiled, shaking your head as you sat your beverage on the side table. “Of course not, I was just listening to everything going on.”

Gideon nodded, leaning back in his spot and looking out to the group like you had. At this point, Gricko was starting to get pretty drunk and Frost was pushing the goblin back to his seat with the other hand holding up the tabaxi’s salt rimmed margarita, gulping it whole. You thought it was amusing, smiling as you adjusted your position on the couch. You brought your legs up to your chest, feet dangling off barely, as you relaxed into the cushioning.

Gideon looked at you again, a small tipsy grin on his lips. “Hey, I’ve been wonderin’ what your favorite drink is,” he spoke randomly. You gave him a quizzical look and he shrugged, gesturing towards the bar with his head. “I was gonna get another one and thought I’d be nice and getcha one too.”

You playfully scoffed, rolling your eyes as you lifted your half-full beverage and rattled it around for him to see. “If you want to offer me a drink I have to be done with the one I have.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, a “psh” sound erupting from his lips when you held your drink up. “What, I can’t be generous for once in my life? C’mon, what’s your favorite drink? Even if it’s for future reference.”

“You first,” you toyed, smiling as you took a swig of your beverage. “I wanna know if you like that whiskey as much as you drink it.”

Gideon chuckled a bit, shrugging once more. “Whiskey’s a’right, but I prefer some fireball whiskey.”

“That’s literally just whiskey,” you chuckled out, watching as the genasi smirked at your response. “So your favorite is whiskey? I thought you’d surprise me and say strawberry daiquiris or something.”

“Fireball whiskey is better ‘cuz it’s cinnamon whiskey, it makes it better!” He insisted, crossing his arms in a playful defense. “Now you gotta tell me your favorite.”

You rolled your eyes, finishing your current drink with a refreshed sigh. Telling him your favorite, he hopped up and strode his way towards the bar. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you watched the genasi walk farther and farther away.

Over the months, you came to the conclusion that he was just a magnet for the ladies specifically. When in town he always had one around him, it was his thing. He seemed to enjoy it, it boosted his ego. While they were after his body more than anything, you found yourself always magnetizing to his personality. You wanted to know more about him more than anything. You grew more and more curious as the weeks went on, why? You never knew.

You’d noticed his observant eyes wonder group settings when he thought no one was watching. You’d notice his body flinching with sudden loud noises like metal on metal or glass on glass. You’d notice how the corners of his lips climbed his cheeks in your peripheral vision when you’d go back to your own tasks. You noticed how he’d always attempt to cheer the group up his own ways when Gricko wouldn’t. You wanted to know more about Gideon Coal. He was so interesting to you, yet to everyone else he was just an average brawn.

You found yourself watching Torbek and Twig play an equivalent to a pinball game, the sounds of bells chiming and bright lights flashing about. With Torbek in control (with a high amount of concerned and anxious groans and whines), Twig cheered him on.

“Here,” your attention was drawn back to see the genasi with your drink. You hummed with a smile and sipped it happily, sighing in refreshment. You thanked the genasi, who waved it off and sat in his spot with his new glass of what appeared to be rum. “Taste good?”

You nodded, sipping your drink again before setting it down. “Tastes like the best one I’ve had in a while,” you relaxed once more into the couch, watching the genasi swig a drunk of his rum without reaction. He sat his drink down on his own side table, draping his arm over the middle of the couch back. “Are you having fun?”

Gideon shrugged a little, nonchalant. “Eh, it’s nice and relaxin’ after a long ass day that's for sure. I guess it’s fun,” you laid your head against the back of the couch section, watching him. The heat of the alcohol grew on your cheeks and currently began growing to your head, making you a bit tired. “There sure ain’t many people though, that’s for sure. Not much of a party.”

You hummed in agreement, glancing around. The inn you all were staying in had a bar event going on tonight, free 2 drinks and the rest half off for the night only. There weren’t very many people staying in the inn anyways due to the storms outside and the inn being deep in the woods. Besides the group, there were only a handful of strangers that kept to their groups. You caught sight of the girl who had been all over Gideon talking to a human guy at the bar. It was nice nonetheless.

“Do you like parties?” You asked out of curiosity. You watched him, trying to imagine him dancing with a crowded room of people with loud music and people chanting for him to shotgun a cheap beer. You could see it, how he’d chug a beer and crush the can on his head frat boy style. You could imagine him being challenged to drink a lot of alcohol, but not so much the dancing after the loss of his groove.

Gideon shrugged, looking over to you. “The closest party I think I’ve been to I think was a full bar with a bard playing some type ‘ah music I didn’t pay attention to,” his eyes observed your face. “I went with Kremy years ago, we stayed enough to play a few rounds of Black Jack and Poker for some money then dipped out.”

You nodded, your head still against the cushion. You reached around for your drink and brought it to your lips, drinking. “Well, it’s better than the closest party you went to being some lame one.”

“Yea, I guess you’re right,” he looked towards the bar again, his face relaxing to a comfortable smile. After a moment of silence, you felt your eyes start to droop a bit. You hummed in content, trying to keep your eyes open as you listened to the environment around you. “Tired?”

Your eyes shot open, meeting the golden eyes of the fire genasi beside you. You nodded a little. “I think I’ve drank enough,” you admitted with a small laugh, rubbing your eyes from the strain they had. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Gideon laughed, shaking his head as he gently took your drink from your hands and sat it securely on the table. “Shit, I don’t care that you’re dozin’,” he nudged your arm gently. “We’ve got some walkin’ to do tomorrow an’ I don’t think you’d want a hangover for that.”

You groaned, realizing you forgot about that fact. You perked yourself up, rubbing your head and sighed. “I think I should get some water then, or some food.”

Gideon stood up, stretching his arms up into the air, his back and arms popping in release. “No problem, be right back.” and he walked off without another word.

You smiled, watching the genasi walk back to the bar. You never understood the kindness the genasi expressed to you. He seemed to accept you into the group pretty fast, though Gricko was by far the fastest. Gideon was a good second. You noticed his gestures towards you since the beginning, and you began to cherish them.

You began to admire him, and you weren’t complaining.

Gideon returned with water, giving you the cup (which was lidded and strawed) and made sure you held it with both hands. As you sipped it, your head started to pound in a dull manner. You laid your head back in the cushion of the couch back, watching Gideon adjust in his seat, then pat his lap.

You looked at him confused, furrowing an eyebrow before he patted his lap again. “Lay down,” he said, catching you off guard. “If you want to, I won’t force ya.”

“You want me to lay down on your lap?” You asked, letting the genasi carefully take your tipsy proof cup. Was he drunk? The imagery of his pillow-like thighs were comforting to you, and warm too, and you liked that. The fighter nodded, patting his lap for a third time. “Why?”

“Until you sober up a bit so I can help ya to your room,” he said. “That way you ain’t trippin over yourself and everything.”

Too tired to think of any other ideas, the idea of soft padded warmth sounded amazing. You happily rolled to your face, which Gideon laughed aloud. You laid on your side, your head laying on the fighter’s lap. He laid an arm over your shoulders, holding your shoulder that touched his outer thigh and rubbed it in a circle with his thumb. You hummed happily, closing your heavy lidded eyes.

“If you fall asleep do ya jus’ want me to carry you up?” Gideon asked, his voice calmer than before. All you could do was hum in acknowledgement, too sleepy and comfortable to give a proper response. You heard the genasi chuckle as he patted your shoulder and then returned to his circled motions. “A���right, don’t get too comfortable down there.” He joked with you innocently, making you smile tiredly.

The warmth of his body, and the alcohol, soothed your body completely into relaxation. Everything was drowned out as the sound of Gideon against your ear filled your ears, the smell of campfire charcoal with a dash of whiskey and rum filled your nose, and the feeling of warmth enveloped you.

You could get used to this.

-~-~-~-

Laughter erupted from your mouth as you attempted to escape the playful ambush of the fire genasi. He easily stopped the attempt, hands cupping your middle and lifting you up. He sat you on his shoulders, buckling you in place by holding your shins before spinning around.

You clutched his head, laughing hysterically as he sped up. “Gideon! You’re gonna make me throw up!” You cried with laughter, tucking yourself in as the genasi stopped spinning.

Gideon patted your shins, looking up the best he could against the cushion of your abdomen. You felt the shrugs of his shoulders, which made you giggle as you catch your breath.

“I don’t think you have that weak of a stomach, you’ve watched us do worse things to people,” he playfully retorted, starting his adventure forward with you hitched on his shoulders. “‘Sides, I bet you have a damn good view from up there.”

You rolled your eyes, adjusting against him and holding a grip on the genasi’s head. “I think this is what Torbek sees everyday, and I think the top of your head is balding.”

“What?” He let one leg go to reach up and feel his head immediately, which immediately started your episode of laughter again. Once Gideon caught on, he let out a huff and returned his grasp to your leg. “Ha ha, very funny.” He playfully retorted.

You smiled, letting your fingers run through his soft thick hair. The frizzed ends were crisp with warm ember glow, heating your hands. They lit up slightly, sparks popping through his head as you ran your fingers through. You brushed his hair back down, still giggling as Gideon continued his new found taxi service to the inn. You hummed happily, enjoying the texture of his hair.

“You don’t worry about split ends, do you?” You asked randomly, sure that they were burnt off constantly from the ignited ends. The ends of his hair were crisp from the burnings, but the heat kept it bendable and flexible with the rest of his hair as well. It was such an odd discovery, but made for a perfect hand heater.

“Not really,” he responded, readjusting his grip on you. He neared the inn door and reached up to hold you just above your hips. “A’right fun’s over, hold tight.”

You did as told, holding his arms as he lifted you up and sat you down in front of him. You spun around and reached up to fix the genasi’s hair after your ride. He kept his head tilted down slightly to let you, which made you smile happily.

“All fixed, big guy,” you patted his arm and he stood up straight again. “Now let’s get some dinner, I’m starving!”

Gideon cracked his knuckles and playfully pushed you aside, marching up to the door and opening it wide. “Ya don’t have to tell me twice!”

You giggled to yourself, following after the genasi. He left the door open for you as he waited inside, which you thanked him for. Gideon made his way towards the inn kitchen, leading the way with his mental mission commanding him. When you found the stairs, you turned towards them and started to hop up.

“Hey, where are you going?” Gideon asked, spinning around as soon as he heard the creak of the stairs. “I thought we were gonna eat dinner?”

You leaned over the stair railing, smiling as the fighter walked over and looked up at you. You reached over and playfully patted his head to tease him. “I will, I’ve gotta put things away first. Don’t wait up for me, but save me a plate at least.”

Gideon slumped, his arms falling and his shoulders arched. He was so cute, it made your chest flutter. He always grew so animated when he’d pout. “A’right, but don’t expect any dessert saved.”

You waved him off, laughing a little and hopping up the stairs again. “Fine by me!”

Reaching the top of the stairs, you turned the corner and saw a familiar lizardfolk leaning against the wall, cigarette in mouth as the lighter lit the end. He took a long drag, staring at the wall in front of him as he put his lighter away, exhaling smoke through his nostrils before taking the cigarette out of his mouth and loosely holding it between his pointer and middle fingers. You stopped, watching as the lizardfolk lazily blinked before turning to you and looking you up and down.

“Have fun in town?” He asked calmly, arm crossed over his chest while the one that held the cigarette was propped on the wrist. Legs crossed as his torso leaned against the wall, his body relaxed. He wasn’t wearing his tailcoat, just the undershirt and an untied bow tie with his dress pants.

Kremy was, and is, the very last person to accept you into the group. You notice how he always watches you closely whether you pretend to notice or not. He doesn’t let you stay too close to him, and he seems weary of you. He is by far much better than at the beginning, and you’ve gained his trust significantly over the year of travelling with the lizardfolk. He cooks your meals, you’ve slept in the group pile many times, you both have had your own moments together on your own time. If there’s one thing he hasn’t changed, however, is his protective manner towards his bodyguard. It was kind of funny, the one who had the bodyguard was guarding the bodyguard. It was much less funny when it was directed towards you, though.

You inspected him, a little nervous you might have done something wrong. You shifted your feet, playing with your fingers. “Um, yea, Gideon and I explored the town and went around some shops. We got some things while there. I got you something, hold on,” you turned to the satchel that hung over your torso. Kremy’s eyebrow quirked in curiosity as you dug in the bag, taking a drag of the cigarette and blowing smoke as you brought the item out. “It’s not much, but I wanted to give you something as a thank you for.. well.. letting me stay.”

Kremy’s golden eyes lit up a bit, placing the cigarette between his maws. He held his hands out as you sat a small amethyst carved unicorn into his claws. It was glossy, almost sparkling. You noticed the end of Kremy’s tail swish in joy, something you knew he couldn’t control. He began to inspect the unicorn, feeling the crevices and the smooth curves.

He held it in one hand, using the other to drag the cigarette again and blow smoke. He placed the carving into his pant pocket carefully, returning to his previous position before nodding.

“Thank you,” he said, a little softer. He didn’t say anything for a moment, staring at the wall ahead of him as his cigarette burned away. You weren’t sure if you could leave, feeling as though Kremy wanted to talk to you. You took a moment before you nodded and started to walk by him. You started to walk towards the room at the end of the corridor, the room the entire group was sharing for the night, before your stopped to the sound of Kremy’s voice again. “You two are talkin’ and stayin’ around each other an awful lot lately. More than with anyone else.”

You slowly turned back around, watching as Kremy’s eyes slowly turned from the wall to you. His eyes were half lidded, as if the things on his mind weighed them down. His eyes were baggy, looking tired. He stared into your eyes, the rusted gold digging into your skin.

“I guess we have,” you admitted, looking down in guilt. Over the course of the last month or two, Gideon and you both went everywhere more and more. Exploring the towns, Gideon claimed you needed a ‘professional’ bodyguard by your side. Whenever you’d enter a room, Gideon would find his way by your side to playfully mess with you. You sat beside each other for meals, and Gideon would offer an extra bread roll for you whenever they were made. And every night, without fail, the both of you ended up falling asleep in one or the other’s lap or stomach. You felt your breath hitch, realizing that it probably upset the warlock that you might indirectly be straying his best friend away from him. “I am sorry if it upsets you, I can talk to Gideon about it so that-“

“You don’t need to say a thing,” he stopped you, taking another drag of his cigarette before he crushed the end against the stair rail post to kill the burn. He stuffed the butt into the pocket opposite of the unicorn. He adjusted his rolled up shirt sleeves, walking towards you in precise strides. You gulped, intimidated by the warlock with his seriousness. Kremy stopped in front of you, crossing his arms. “I just want to make sure you ain’t fuckin’ around with Gideon just to break his heart.”

“Wha-?” You were so confused. You blinked a few times, Kremy’s muzzle inching closer as an attempt to intimidate you.

“Gideon has been my friend for a very long time, I’ve seen many people try to slip in and leave time and time again. I know when Gideon gets himself attached to people,” Kremy narrow his eyes on you, looking you up and down again before surrounding you. “He means.. a lot to me. I’d do a lot of crazy things for that man. Maybe even give up my life.”

He stopped in front of you, reaching into his pocket again for his cigarette holder and his lighter. You fumbled with your satchel as the warlock lit another cigarette, dragging it in, and exhaling through his nose. He held it between his fingers before continuing.

“But I ain’t his sitter, he’s a grown man,” his hard eyes soften, the snarl that built on his muzzle disappearing before he turns his head away. “I trust him with everything I have, he’s a great man. I see how the two of you look at each other, I know y’all ain’t messin’ around. It ain’t my business, but when it comes to Gideon it kinda is my business.” There was a small edge to his voice you couldn’t quite identify.

“I’m sorry, I’m confused,” you shifted, blinking at the ringleader as he turned to meet your eyes again. “I know you and Gideon are close, I don’t want to take that away from either of you at all. Did I do something wrong?”

Kremy lifted his head, another drag of a cigarette, another exhale. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” his voice was soft again. “Gideon cares a lot about ‘cha, I see it in his eyes every day. I trust his judgement of people. I trust that you won’t use him. You make him happy, and I can see he makes you happy too. I jus’ don’t want the person closest to me to get hurt. Do we understand each other?”

You blinked again, slowly nodding at his quiet request. Kremy cared for Gideon more than anything, that was clear for everyone to see. He was worried that Gideon would get hurt through your mutual shenanigans, physical or emotional, and you understood all Kremy wanted was for Gideon to have someone other than Kremy to feel that security with. Kremy didn’t dislike you, he was only weary of the situation.

Kremy, who was already half way through the new cigarette, nodded and closed his eyes to let the situation sink in. You felt the fabric of your satchel, thinking about how to approach this from here on.

“I care about you too,” you said softly. The lizardfolk turned his eyes towards you again. “Maybe not in the way that I care for Gideon, but I do. I trust you to have my back, and I trust you to lead me. I trust you with my food,” you both chuckled a little at that. “No matter what, Kremy, I respect you.”

Kremy observed your eyes, searching for any signs of insincerity, though found none. He took another long drag, taking the cigarette away as he swallowed the smoke down to his lungs, then exhaled again slowly. “I think I can say the same.”

Dinner went smoothly, as usual. While there wasn’t any dessert (as expected), you were saved a plate and a half of food for dinner. Gideon saved you some bread rolls, plopping one on your plate when you thought he gave you the last one. Kremy sat on the other side of Gideon, at the end of the table. He would catch your eye a few times, a soft smile on his mouth.

With the start and fall of dinner, the day in the town caught up to you easily with the full stomach. Everyone had decided it was time for sleep, talking about the room arrangement. Nibbling on your last bread roll, you listened to the group.

“Well I think Hootsie should at least have the bed tonight with me! We don’t mind someone else in the bed, but she’s a growin’ girl! She needs some cushion sometimes,” Gricko insisted, petting his daughter behind the ear who cooed.

“I think that whoever didn’t have the bed last time should have it this time,” Frost nodded in partial agreement. “That way it is fair for all of us. So, who all had the bed last time?”

“Torbek believes it was Mister Kremy, Gideon, {y/n} and Twig,” Torbek pointed out, looking at the ones he mentioned. “So Torbek thinks that Torbek and Frost, Gricko and Hootsie should have the bed this time! Just like Frost suggested.”

Everyone seemed to agree with one another, chattering about how the bed arrangement would work. You didn’t mind either way, the couch that was in the room as well made up for the situation. It was rather comfortable from when you sat on it previously, as well.

You stayed in your seat as the group of four marched upstairs, all tired and ready for bed. Twig stayed behind, cleaning up from the dinner since she was the one who cooked it tonight. You didn’t say anything, listening to Gideon and Kremy chat for a bit together.

The conversation with Kremy lingered in your mind. You seemed to have been given his approval. At least, that’s how you interpreted it. You were sure that was what Kremy meant by the conversation. You respected the warlock, however, and felt like it would be better to wait for a good time.

Gideon was important to you. He lit up the room, figuratively and literally, whenever you were gloomy. He always cheered you up, gave you butterflies with his simple gestures towards you. You felt pure joy and happiness every night as the genasi let you huddle up to his side for warmth, Kremy on the other.

“Ya ready?”

You blinked from your state, looking up to the now standing Gideon Coal. You nodded and stood, finishing your roll before yawning. Gideon led the way towards the stairs, hands on his head for his full stomach. Kremy joined your side, gently nudging you to go up and join the genasi.

You smiled at the lizardfolk, who returned it back.

You skipped a step to meet Gideon’s side, who greeted you with a pat on the back.

It didn’t take any time at all before everyone was ready for bed. The four were all cuddled in bed, Torbek on the very edge and half hanging off, Hootsie laying on the foot of the bed in Gricko’s area, and Frost and Gricko comfortably nestled. They all fell asleep rather quickly, soft snores filling the room.

The couch was a pull out, which Twig securely made for the four of you to lay on. Gideon laid in the middle, taking the most space. His arms were spread to the sides, Kremy on his right side on the edge of the bed while you were tucked into the middle with Twig on your other side. It was comfortable, but mostly because of Gideon being your pillow.

You were having a hard time sleeping, however. You were overcome with loud snores throughout the room, and the mattress below you was very uneven. You kept tossing and turning, unable to fully relax like you wanted. Once you did find a position, your back was towards the genasi and you were sprawled out in an odd position.

You hummed in tiredness, sleepy from all of the events of the day. You let your eyes droop, relaxing your body to finally fall asleep, as hard as it was.

Right before you did, you jerked up at the touch of a small rattle of your shoulder. You tiredly opened your eyes and blinked, sleepily yawning before turning to look over your shoulder. Kremy’s head laid on Gideon’s chest, looking at you while Gideon’s half lidded eyes looked at you too.

Gideon smiled at you and gently patted his stomach, murmuring to you just loud enough to be heard over the snores. “C’mere,” he pet his belly in a tired daze, clearly previously asleep at some point. You slowly sat up, blinking in slight confusion before the genasi patted his belly once more. “Pillow time.”

You giggled a little at his sleepy talk, slowly shifting over as he yawned. You climbed over his leg, adjusting on the genasi as he sleepily held your shoulder to balance you. Once you found a comfortable position, you laid on his warm stomach happily. Kremy readjusted on Gideon’s chest, shifting more into his side. Now you were all warm and cozy.

Twig took this chance while she slept, sprawling herself out like a starfish and snoring louder as if it was a sigh of relief, then returning to her soft snores before. You giggled at it, yawning as you relaxed into the body of Gideon Coal.

You felt the familiar hand of Gideon run to your upper back, gently rubbing it in a sleepy massage. He muttered something before falling right back asleep, his gentle grip holding you with him. You felt an unfamiliar hand wrap around your middle back, which made your lazy eyes peel open just slightly to see Kremy holding you as well.

“G’night, {y/n}.” The lizardfolk whispered, sleep overtaking him.

You hummed in acknowledgement, eyes closing completely. “G’night.”

-~-~-~-

The cool breeze blew around you all. The damp ground squashed beneath every step. You huddled next to Gideon, rubbing your arms as an attempt to keep yourself warm from the winds. It was silent as everyone traveled, only the sounds of wet leaves and mud and the whistle of the wind. The trees above swayed, dancing along with one another in unison.

You looked up, looking past the leaves to study the greyed skies. You frowned, realizing that this was most likely more than a dull day. You knew a storm was coming, though not knowing if it was snow or rain, you looked forward to look at Kremy.

Kremy had been leading the way, Gideon just slightly behind the lizardfolk as always, guarding him from the mystery of the woods. You looked slightly back from the genasi, thinking about the day so far.

Behind you, Torbek slumped in slow yet large strides. His arms hung low, his claws tracing the wet ground now and again. If it wasn’t for the almost constant state of sadness on his face, he’d easily make for a terrifying body guard to anyone. Twig sat on his shoulder, happily knitting away on a new project she was determined to finish. Frost, Gricko and Hootsie were in the back, Gricko riding on Hootsie’s back as the tabaxi and goblin quietly conversed amongst themselves.

You felt a gentle tug on your shirt, which made you look behind your shoulder to meet the bugbear who consistently looked over you. He bent down, much more than usual, trying to meet your height more comfortably without accidentally throwing Twig off. He tucked his arms in, crossing them loosely.

“What is it Torbek?” You asked quietly, slowing your pace a bit to leave the vicinity of Gideon and Kremy. Torbek tapped his fingers together in a nervous motion. You noticed Gideon glancing back at the loss of your presence, though paid no mind once he noticed you and Torbek conversing.

Torbek’s ears flattened against his head slightly, as if slightly ashamed. “Um, well Torbek was wondering if Mx. {y/n} knew how long it would be until the next town?”

You smiled softly at the bugbear, attempting to ease his worry. “Oh, well Kremy said that about an hour ago that we should be there before sundown.”

Torbek nodded, glancing up towards where Kremy was. “Okay,” Torbek’s eyes wavered to the surrounding woods, which you followed absentmindedly. “Torbek doesn’t want to be stormed on is all.”

You nodded in agreement, gently patting his hand. “I don’t think Kremy would let us, I trust he’ll make the call on that.”

Torbek nodded again, smiling slightly before standing back up to his usual slouch. You skipped back up to Gideon’s side, careful not to step on Kremy’s evenly swaying tail. Gideon looked down at you, quirking an eyebrow in quiet inquiry.

“Torbek was just wondering when we’d be at the next town,” you told him with a shrug, laying your head onto his bicep as you walked. Gideon reached an arm around and patted your shoulder in acknowledgement. He gave a small squeeze of a side hug, which gave you a boost of warmth.

Suddenly, Kremy stopped in his tracks. You and Gideon almost ran into his back, stopping just in time before you did. Torbek, however, fumbled and bumped into both you and Gideon before catching himself. You consequently bumped into Kremy, who turned around and crossed his arms. You gave a small guilty smile, comedically wiggling your fingers as hello.

Kremy paid no mind, looking up to the sky and taking his pocket watch from his tailcoat pocket and opened it to look at the time. Without looking up, he hummed. “We’re gonna have to camp here tonight,” Kremy said as he clicked his pocket watch closed. “We’re about two hours from town, but the storm is about to hit. We will set back out in the morning when the storm is gone.”

Torbek whined a little, which he stopped as Gricko immediately cheered him up with positivity. You nodded, escaping Gideon’s side hug to properly stand beside him. “Should we set up the big tent? Or prepare a shelter?”

Kremy put his pocket watch away, tapping his claws along the skull of his cane. “This storm might be a doozy, I think we should have a quick roof built between these trees here to keep the area we’ll be sleeping on drier.”

Gricko and Hootsie bounced about, Gricko jumping onto Torbek’s arm and pulling the poor bugbear towards the trees. “C’mon Torbek! Let’s make that platform! Hootsie and I will teach you how to do it!”

With a groan of slight defiance, Torbek followed his goblin companion and his daughter into the woods. Twig flew off of Torbek’s shoulder and joined Frost. Frost dropped his bag, rummaging through his items and setting the usual camp supplies down. Everyone always had their designated chores when it came to camping, which was never necessarily assigned, but willingly done due to the skills the groups had.

Torbek was tall and could reach the thick, large branches or small yet tall and thick trees that he could tear out of the ground. He could also carry a lot of things in his arms, even if they were quite hefty. Along with this, Gricko was the carpenter of the group. While it wasn’t like his wood widdling, he still grew to learn the right woods that worked best in shelter and learned to make efficient mini shelters with just the environment around them. Hootsie loved helping her father, doing anything she can to help out when she wanted.

Frost was the ‘architect’ when it came to the shelters, calculating the best and proficient ways to structure the shelters for the night. He made the guidelines and Gricko and his group did the rest. Frost would then set up other shelter things after that, such as the cooking ware. Once the cooking ware came in, either Kremy or Twig got to work. They’d start the food while the others all worked, having the food ready by the time the shelter was finished.

Kremy looked at you and the genasi, beginning to take his tailcoat off. “Gid, can you go and get some firewood please? If ya find some berries along the way please pick some. Oh, and {y/n} better go with you, the more firewood the better.”

Kremy smiled at you softly, folding up his tailcoat neatly and setting it on an elevated rock. Gideon nodded and nudged you, grunting out an “on it” to the lizardfolk before walking into the woods. You followed in tow, looking back towards Kremy who was rolling up his sleeves then turning to talk with Twig.

You caught up to the genasi, looking around for good wood that didn’t appear as damp as the ground. Gideon did the same, reaching up to yank on an already dead branch.

“Is it just me or is Kremy in a weird mood?” You asked suddenly, mostly out of curiosity than anything. You saw the genasi shrug, inspecting the branch he just tore off before tucking it under his arm.

“I’d say he kinda is, but he’s probably just tired more than anythin’. I think some things are weighing on his mind, but I don’t blame him at all after the whole Remy Garou shit.” Gideon grabbed some branches he saw, inspecting them and then tucking them under his arm again as he spoke.

“I guess that’s fair,” you nodded, grabbing some sticks and dried leaves that you figured would be good fire starters. “I hope he’s alright.”

Gideon snapped a long stick to break it down. “He’ll be a’right, if it gets to be too much I’ll help him out,” he turned to smile a bit at you. “How about you, eh? You’ve been actin’ strange too after the last town we were in. Somethin’ happen?”

You blinked in surprise, adjusting your grip on your bundle of small branches and sticks. “Well, not anything bad no,” you admitted, handing Gideon a broken branch for him to hold in his occupied hand and heat up. Gideon quirked an eyebrow, quietly asking what you meant by that. You gave a nervous smile. “Kremy and I talked a bit, it wasn’t anything bad, it was just a little confusing I guess?”

Gideon shrugged, taking your answer. The branch stud in his hand had burned to charcoal, which he stuffed in the small bag around his belt. “Well, as long as ya both don’t hate each other.”

You laughed a little, shaking your head and waving your hands. “No no, of course not!”

There seemed to be relief in his expression, the worry of the possibility no longer weighing heavy on him. Was he really worried that you and Kremy hated each other? Was there something that the both of you did to instill that worry into him?

“Good, I don’t want my two favorite people hatin’ each other. That would be pretty rough, haha!” He had a tinge of a hidden worry in his tone, though he sighed and released it. He grabbed some more items, not so much looking at them as in depth as he did before.

You paused your collecting, looking at the genasi as he continued forward. His back was turned towards you, bending down every now and then. You gripped your bundle just barely, watching his back for a moment.

“Hey, Gideon?” You asked cautiously, watching as the genasi carefully straightened up and partially turned to you. He watched you carefully, head slightly tilted in wonder. “What do you mean by that? Favorite people being me and Kremy, I mean.”

Gideon fully turned to you, only just realizing what he said. He took a minute to think before he stumbled over his words, trying to figure out what to say. He then sighed, his shoulder slouching a bit in semi-defeat.

He stepped towards you, keeping his grip nice and still on his own bundle. You opened your mouth to speak again, either in question or to take back your previous question, though Gideon started before you did.

“Kremy an’ I have been traveling together for years, about ten. We’ve gone through a lot of situations, thick and thin. We learned a lot about each other, and we learned that we can’t be without each other after it all. I wouldn’t want it any other way, I owe Kremy that,” Gideon’s smile softly appeared, his eyes half lidded as if something on his mind weighed them down once again. “An’ I’ll be honest, despite traveling with you for only a year, I’ve felt similar with you.”

You blinked in surprise, not expecting those words at all to come out of him. You knew that Kremy and Gideon were close, practically inseparable. You didn’t know just how important they meant to each other until now. You finally realized just how much they downplayed their relationship with one another to everyone. You shifted in your spot, glancing down at the realization. Everything made sense now.

Gideon sat his bundle down, noticing your face. He placed the side of his finger below your chin, making you look up at him. There was a sheepish look on his face, the other hand scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “A’right, look, don’t get all sad on me now,” he tried. “I ain’t good with words, I’m sorry if that came out wrong. Look, uh,” he cleared his throat and awkwardly placed the hand that tilted your head up on your shoulder, patting it. “I care about you a lot, like I care about Kremy. Don’t get sad, c’mon, this ain’t some love triangle or nothin’ I promise.”

You blinked, trying to understand what he was trying to say despite the confusion of it all. “You like me though, don’t you?”

Gideon nodded, taking your pile from your arm and setting it with his own. He took your hands in his, slight embarrassment still on his face. “I like you, hell I think I love you,” he confessed, rubbing the tops of your hands with his thumbs in a soft massage. “I wanna be that warm pillow for ya every night, basically.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, snorting at the cute yet slightly awkward confession. You smiled up at him, squeezing his hands in content. “Mr. Coal, you’re the best pillow I’ve ever had,” you half joked, which made him snicker. “I really like you, I haven’t really been trying to hide it at all, so I’m surprised you’re just now confessing.”

“Me? Confess? You’ve got the wrong guy,” he joked, which you laughed softly to. You felt the softness in his tone, in his hands as he held you. “I usually wait for the one givin’ me the doe eyes to come up first.”

“Well that’s where this all got screwed up then,” you joked, laying your forehead on his chest. The genasi wrapped his arms around your back, holding you close. “But you can make it up to me if you give me extra dessert next time.”

Gideon laughed, his chest falling up and down in glee from your arrangement. He rubbed your upper back, patting it before leaning into you happily. “A’right, fine, extra dessert.”

You hummed in joy, relaxing completely into his warmth.

He’s so stupid. It’s all you could think of towards the genasi with a smitten smile on your face.

You heard the hiss of singed ember fill your ears. Then another. You felt Gideon sigh and pat your back again, the texture of his beard rough against your forehead as he pulled away to kiss your forehead. Your face heated up, listening to the singed hisses as rain drops began to fall from the sky, evaporating once they hit the embers on his head.

“Let’s get back to camp, we need some fire started before all of this firewood gets wet,” he said, quickly and easily scooping up the conjoined firewood you both had gathered. “We don’t wanna be late for dinner.”

You smiled up at him, taking some of the pile for yourself to carry.

-~-~-~-

The soothing massage on your abdomen lulled you awake, groaning in response. The hand that held you rubbed circles into your stomach now, the genasi’s face buried into your hair.

“Mornin sunshine,” he chuckled softly, which you hummed in response to. He kissed the back of your head before he sat up. He stretched, yawning. “Kremy made some breakfast in the inn kitchen.”

You turned to your back, watching the genasi get out of bed. You sleepily admired his bed head, chuckling at how disheveled he looked as he woke up. You were sure you were the same, but it was much funnier on Gideon.

“Didn’t he say he was making waffles?” You asked, sitting up and yawning just as your boyfriend had. He put on his clean shirt, looking around for his comb.

“Think so,” he replied, finding his comb and beginning to fix his hair. He sat back on the bed by your feet, itching his beard. “I want some chocolate chip ones if he did end up making them.”

You chuckled, crawling out of bed to get ready for the day. For once, the group was able to have seperate rooms for pairs. You and Gideon shared a room, while Torbek and Twig shared another, Gricko and Hootsie in a third, and Frost and Kremy in the last. Everyone enjoyed each other's company, and it was very comfortable overall.

As you found your clothes to change into for the day, you felt muscular arms wrap around your middle from behind. You straightened up, leaning yourself into the chest of the fighter. He buried his face into your neck, humming as he swayed the both of you side to side. “We don’t have to rush, it’s pretty early still.” He murmured into your neck.

You hummed in agreement, swaying with the genasi. In an instant, you were lifted and playfully tossed onto the bed. You giggled, rolling onto your back as the genasi held you down by your shoulders gently. He then proceeded to try to tickle you, which made you erupt into squeals.

You struggled against his grip, his assault on your sides and neck too much to bare. Once you had an opening, you went to jab at his ribs, knowing he was ticklish there. He was caught by surprise, tucking himself in in defense at the attack. You continued to poke and prod, tickling him. You weren’t expecting his next attack on you, holding your wrists and pinning them to your sides.

You struggled against him, still laughing. “Hey! That’s no fair!” You whined, a fake frown on your lips. Gideon smiled wide at that, inching closer to your face.

“I think it is,” he pecked your nose, his grin widening. “I think I win.” He pecked your lips, which you huffed when he pulled away. He chuckled then kissed you, which you happily returned.

What a goofball.

[infiniteglitterfall]

I wrote a whole thing in response to this. It's not done. But I just want to say I'M SO FUCKING TIRED OF THIS.

I'M SO FUCKING TIRED OF THE ENTIRE LEFT APPROPRIATING JEWISH TERMS, REDEFINING THEM TO MEAN SOMETHING EVIL THAT YOU CAN'T EVEN AGREE ON, AND THEN ATTACKING AND INDIVIDUALLY EXILING JEWS FOR WHAT YOU IMAGINE WE BELIEVE.

And I don't think it's actually the entire left. I think there's a loud, horrifying group that does this, and a larger silent majority that mostly doesn't even see it.

I think that ten years ago, I would quite possibly not have seen any of it. I wouldn't have been in the right circles online to see it. I would've reblogged things that sounded right, and moved on.

I probably would have seen and shared things that defended Jews. Because that's what I did, ten years ago, when I saw them. But it would've been incredibly rare.

And that sucks. Because right now, it feels like everything has been on fire for about a year and a half. And really, everything has been on fire for even longer than that.

I've seen people talk about how nobody was acknowledging the 2018 Tree of Life Synagogue massacre as antisemitism, or having marches or vigils around it, except Jews.

I remember several other things during that time where all the non-Jews talking about them, on the left, were being ignorant defensive antisemitic garbage.

I only recently learned, by looking at the FBI hate crimes stats, that Jews in the US have experienced the second-largest number of hate crimes almost every single year since the FBI started tracking them.

(Second only to Black people, yes. Usually gay men are third. Idk if anyone's ever tried to analyze what percentage of each community the hate crime stats represent.)

Nobody talks about that.

But plenty of people talk about how Jews weaponize claims of antisemitism. Apparently this is the only marginalized group you're allowed to say that about? At least, I haven't been able to think of others.

Plenty of people claim the ADL is weaponizing claims of antisemitism to make pro-Palestinians look bad. (An argument that really only works as long as you ignore the FBI's nearly forty years of data.)

I don't expect people to be able to jump in and defend Jews or call out antisemitism. It is, frankly, a lot to learn. And it's stuff that gets so silenced and erased, people often have to start from scratch.

But my tired cranky ass is BEGGING YOU. PLEASE, if you care about this shit, reblog this, and hit the jumblr tag and find some Jews to follow. Just go find some people to listen to and learn from.

Because it's just gonna get worse. Trump is going to actively make things worse from both ends. He's anti-Jewish as fuck. He literally keeps a book of Hitler's speeches in his nightstand. (Not that it's helped him any with his own oratorical efforts; holy shit.)

He is also anti-Muslim as fuck, and today he apparently said he wanted to take over Gaza.

What's gonna happen is that the left is going to continue decoupling "Nazi" from "hates Jews." Continue not listening to Jews or learning to identify and unpack antisemitism. And it'll be just as happy as ever to say "punch Nazis."

But it already has a jumpstart on "Israelis and 'Zionists' are Nazis." And on "Israelis and 'Zionists' shouldn't be allowed to teach, or perform publicly, or possibly hold jobs."

Every single thing the far right does to attack "pro-Palestinians" is going to be awful, and is going to be used to imply that they support Jews -- which, in turn, will make Jews seem sus.

When white supremacists and literal Nazis attack Jews, the left will continue to pretend it's not happening.

Basically, Trump will be emboldening anti-Jewish sentiment and acts on both the left and the right.

And now that I think about it, maybe that's part of what happened his first term too.

Again: my tired cranky ass is BEGGING YOU. PLEASE, if you care about this shit, reblog this, and hit the jumblr tag and find some Jews to follow. Just go find some people to listen to and learn from. (You can follow me, if you don't already. It's just that I mostly write infodumps 😇)

If you want a quick read that's a real masterclass and gut-punch on this topic, read People Love Dead Jews, by Dara Horn. You can get it used! New! In podcast form! At the library! At your library as an ebook or audio book! Read a review! Read an excerpt!

This tiny bit is absolutely wrecking me:

Sometimes your body is someone else’s haunted house. Other people look at you and can only see the dead.

Here's an interview about how she ended up writing the book that has some absolutely amazing examples. Even with her interview, it's hard not to quote things she says:

We have had this idea when we teach people not to be bigoted, that like the way to teach them that is to say, like, see this fill-in-the-blank group over here, like you shouldn't be mean to those people because they're just like you and me, they're just like everybody else.

And it's like, well, the problem with that, especially in the Jewish case, is that Jews spent 3,000 years not being like everybody else.

Everyone, but especially Jews, please add your own suggestions in the reblogs, replies, or tags.

Someone messaged my drag collective with a complaint about my "Zionist leanings" and asked me to be thrown out of the collective. I thought my co runner would back me up bc he owes me for an entirely separate thing, and I've been doing most of the work between us recently. Nope, threw me straight under the bus.

.

[minhosimthings]

Get ready bitches. It's Mona's Spotify wrapped time with the musical maniac herself hehe

The fact that my most replayed song is by Enha and my top artist is Skz is the most Stay-engene coded I can be. AND OMG CHACONNE MY HEART AND SOUL I KNEW IT WOULD BE MY MOST REPLAYED.

Also apparently I listened to Skz and Enha most in June, which is literally so random like bruh what (even though it's my birthday month hehe)

[bumblingbabooshka]

Every time I watch the cold open of Memorial and B'Elanna tells Tom about how she ASSEMBLED a 50's television set from SCRATCH just to surprise him (there's no reason beyond that - just an incredibly sweet and thoughtful gesture) and replicated popcorn for him to eat while he watches and Tom says "They didn't have remote controls in the 50's ♥ Also where's my beer?" I contemplate murder ESPECIALLY because B'Elanna responds cheerfully to it - GIRL!!! LEAVE HIM!!!!!! IS HE SUPPOSED TO BE CHARMING IN THIS SCENE????

[volivolition]

dude the TOP song you posted (truce) fucking kills me and the way you described the animatic is??? so good???? I'd bawl actually /pos

I need to know if there's any other TOP songs you relate to the furies/any DE character really, or any slower songs even if they aren't by TOP

OH AGREED ABSOLUTELY!! TRUCE MY BELOVED... and THANK YOU!! we are imagining animatics and crying together! /pos :'] <3

ooh!! well, i havent listened to a lot of TOP in a while, so i don't have many recommendations there unfortunately :'] but for other slow, soft songs, let's see... i'll put them under a cut with all my explanations, but ☀️ "See The Day" by The Altogether (Volition song!), 🍃 "Rounds" by The Oh Hellos (Shivers song!), 🦋 "Would You Be So Kind" by dodie (general skills song, Suggestion primarily!) are the best contenders!

Pretty sure you've seen it already, but from a different ask, i recommend "Almost (Sweet Music)" by Hozier! (and "Like Real People Do" if you want to cry and yearn with me, though my DE ideas for it are very loose hkjhg) these are slow ones i like hkjhg <3

"Goodbye" by The Altogether is a Harry and Dora song :0

"Soldier, Poet, King" by The Oh Hellos is one i specifically relate to Volition (my beloved protector/motivator/crownhead blorbo! [picks him up and wiggles him!!!]), but i would make one of those animation memes for it with every skill slotted into a "soldier" "poet" or "king" position.

☀️ "See the Day" is both another The Altogether song and another Volition song! a real "the worst is over. we made it through. we're going to survive this. it might not get easier yet, but we'll come out the other side and we'll be alive" song. it makes me cry hkjgh

🍃 "Rounds" by The Oh Hellos is a soft Shivers song, though the lyrics don't start until halfway in. ough my god listening to it makes my heart ache (/pos) <3 La Revacholiere singing to Harry in the wind. "Will you start when I end? Yeah, I'm long in the wind..."

"Northern Star" by Dom Fera, a song Harry would sing for karaoke and dedicate to Kim, and then they'd waltz a little clumsily on the dim, starlit sidewalk on their way home for the evening... <3

🦋 "Would You Be So Kind?" by dodie BUT SPECIFICALLY THIS VERSION, because i love everyone's crowded but earnest vibes. this one is led by Suggestion ("oooh you wanna fall in love with us so bad right? right???") and makes me grin, you GOTTA imagine all of the skills squished together in the front of Harry's brain all trying different tactics to get Kim to fall in love with them, (rhetoric: "I HAVE A QUESTION..." ency: "let's write a story! be in my book!") at 2:35, after all the skills singing together loudly, it's just Harry himself singing to Kim, with all the skills slowly backing him up. the ending is all of them fucking ECSTATIC celebrating when harry finally kisses kim hkjhg jesus this'd be so cute hold on i have to go plan this out i have so many thoughts hkjdh

"Seven" by Sleeping at Last would be a sweet Reaction Speed song (ironic that im adding react speed to a list of soft, slow songs though hkjgh) "I'm ready for whatever comes next!" <3 Reaction Speed is a fast, restless little fella who can't sit still for long, always loves moving, acting, doing. he's like the personification of a verb hkjhg <3 i would also accept an interpretation for echem <3

"Cosmos" by Jawbreaker Reunion is a song that The Furies recently suggested to me as a jean song and it's so right for that, very soft and i like it very much :'] (you should also ask The Furies if you want to, it's much more musically inclined than me, i feel hkjhg <3)

awuahg thank you for asking and for reading!! i appreciate it!! <33

oh and here's links to all of the songs in the tags: Come Together Now, Two, Four, Five, Six, Eight, Nine, RPG Animation Meme (<- homestuck lmao)

[phagodyke]

tried putting on my radiator for the first time this winter (we've had snow this week.... its focking cold) but it trips the fusebox for the entire flat lmfao. I'm fuuuucked 😐

[avatar-aaang]

oh okay so she can send out an email about staff birthdays but not the fucking schedule. got it. Priorities.