#it's officially hereeeeeeeeee

[golgolfruit]

Shanks: BENN YOUR HUSBAND IS HEREEEEEEEEEE

Benn, who just wanted to rest: tell him to go away

Shanks: can’t, he’s here on official business

Benn, grabbing his rifle: START WITH THAT FIRST

#Benn Beckman #Admiral Kizaru #Borsalino #BennKizaru #BorsBec #shanks #benn x kizaru

[sincerelyravens]

just friends chapter one: 

summary: Months ago, after a one-night stand that couldn't stay that way, Robbe and Sander made an agreement—the two of them, no strings attached. But, Sander's feelings for Robbe were strong, to begin with, and they're growing stronger with each passing day—that he's more in love with Robbe than he should be.

Today was just another Friday night party. The crowd in front of him was just another rotating group of party-goers that stumbled their way into the club, trying to find a way to forget all their troubles using another three pins of lukewarm beer. It was just another audience that would dance to whatever music was blasting through the speakers, who would dance with a stranger if given the chance. It was the same as the Friday night last week—and the Friday night before that. 

The dance floor was completely covered with people whose features were hidden in the minimal lighting of the club. Occasionally, the bright magenta and blue spotlights would bathe a few of them in their bright neon light, but the majority of the club remained bathed in darkness. There were pairs, dancing together, kissing, with their arms wrapped together. For some of them, their bodies swayed together in a way that would’ve been considered indecent if they were anywhere else. There were also large groups, dancing together in large circles, swapping drinks like it was second nature with loud, joyous laughter that could be vaguely heard over the speakers. 

Standing on the stage above the crowd was Sander Driesen. 

To the party-goers on the dance floor, who had way too many drinks in their system, Sander looked something like a god, wrapped in the shadows of the stage. Occasionally, the neon spotlights would drag across his form and everyone could see how beautiful he was on the stage, lost in his element of choosing the music. His hair was a bright shade of white, standing out amongst the shadows, and his dark roots made him look more rugged than normal. The bright neon lights flashed over him again, lighting up his nose ring and his barbell earring. 

On nearly every Friday night, Sander would be up here, with a pair of headphones over his ears and with a focus of unwavering steel. He commanded the music like it was second nature, switching the songs at the precise moment that the previous song would dwindle into its final notes. He knew when to replace a slower-paced song with a song with a faster pace. As his time went on, he would remain oblivious to the joyous screams the crowd produced at each well-timed and well-needed switch; however, he would also be increasingly aware of what the party needed at each new song blasting over the speakers.

(continue reading on AO3)

#wtfock #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #sobbe #rosander #drijzermans #brennawrites #it's officially hereeeeeeeeee #it's been nearly a year in the making (and one vds fwb) #but it's finally HERRREEEEEEEE #i hope you guys enjoy it #long post #brennaedits