#and now i feel like there's a point to me saving the most beautiful pages outside of just being a weirdo hoarder lol

[luvfy0dor]

I think you knew this was coming

I hope you don’t mind

And you can take as long as you want

But it me

The dad Fyodor anon

Dropping back in

For more parenting requests

Why? Because that’s what I do

And I just had an idea y’know. True to my name I have a dad Fyodor thought in my brain but I think I’ll save that for another day

Honestly your post about dad Dazai (that I did request ik) got me thinking

And now I want a lil mini story of Dazai trying to bond with his newborn child and adapt to being a father. Cuz as you covered in the headcanons, he’d be struggling with a lot in the beginning most likely. And I really desperately want to expand on that

The reader’s gender is your choice. You can make it another part of the accidental pregnancy ask, or a stand alone, or not mention a reader at all and just focus on Dazai and his child

But you brought up some interesting thoughts there and if you’re comfortable playing with some a little more you know I would SNORT that up like a BEE

I’m not entirely sure why I wrote that last part. But I was just thinking of bees so, I’m saying bee. We made this choice

As always, the one and only, Dad Fyodor anon

P.S. If you ever want me to request other characters and expand more on these topics, please say so I will like do it in a heartbeat

“Oh, baby !!” - Dad!Dazai Bonding W/ His Child ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; erm I did some research for this but I'm not completely sure that I didn't just run my mouth at some points tbh, reader is only mentioned like once

Description; Dazai bonding with his infant child

A/N; dawg I actually start convulsing every single time I get a request from you like foaming at the mouth I get so excited omg istg I snort your asks like a bee too so I feel that, but dwdw! Your asks are always perfectly fine! And request whoever you wanna read for, it's my job to supply things that y'all like. But now that you've mentioned that new dad Fyodor thought.........................hmu about that 🤭🫡

Headcannons !! ༊*·˚

★ I think Dazai would be confused on how to go about bonding with a child, because what do infants do? Sleep? Eat? So he takes every chance he gets to feed and rock the baby in his arms.

★ He plays peekaboo with the child, too. He also makes as much eye contact as possible because he read somewhere that it's a good way to communicate non verbally with a small baby.

★ When it reaches about 4 months old, as long as your child is laughing, that means he's doing something right. Until your child is bigger and is able to express their deeper emotions and feelings, he will settle for the amused squeals and laughs.

★ He also reads to the kid, turning the book around to show them them the pages while they sit in their tiny little baby swing. When he reads picture books, he goes all out, voice impressions and everything.

Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Dazai sat on the floor, staring at the newborn baby in her little swing. His legs were criss crossed as he observed her, watching every small movement she made in her little swaddle. He watches with adoration, still so amazed that he could create such a beautiful thing; such a miracle. He had never previously imagined himself having a family, especially not so soon, but he couldn't be more thankful now that he did.

He's torn from his thoughts when he hears the soft cries of his daughter, her face contorted from her recently peaceful one to one of sadness, and so did his. "Aw, what's wrong, honey?" He says, gently picking her up. He hushes her softly while rocking her back and forth in his arms, to no avail. Her cries become a little louder and he starts to internally panic a bit. "Hey, hey, you're alright, I promise!" He murmurs to her. "Are you hungry? Is that what it is?" He says, setting her back down in her baby swing for a moment and dashing off to the kitchen.

He makes her a bottle, shaking the formula and mixing it up while simultaneously speed walking back to his daughter. He sets down the bottle and scooches closer to her swing, taking her back into his arms and holding the bottle up to her mouth. She starts to suck on the top piece, slowly but surely draining the bottle. He smiles while watching her, removing the bottle from her mouth after a bit. He gently wipes her any excess formula from her mouth, giving her a bit of a break.

Dazai readjusts her posture in his arms, supporting her head as her small little eyes open and stare at him. He stares back, almost as if he were intimidated by the young baby. He felt silly about it, but at the same time he couldn't really help it. "Don't worry, I passed my good genes on to you." He says playfully to her. Her face makes a small grimaces again, and he knows it's probably because she wants the rest of her bottle, but he can't help but feel a little offended.

"Hey...you're not a very nice baby, are you? You probably got that from me, too." He murmurs, an eyebrow raised as he feeds her the bottle again. She seems content, which makes him smile. He feels her squirm a little bit and he quickly removes the bottle from her mouth, a bit of liquid remaining. He again wipes any remaining formula off her face before holding her to his chest. He sits down on the couch and carefully lays down, his head leaned against the armrest of the sofa.

He resumes his activity of just staring at her, so bewildered and actually astonished over what his life has come to. Positively, ofcourse. His fingers lightly caressed her head that was littered with teeny tiny baby hairs already. He can't keep himself from grinning, so proud of himself for not running away from a situation for once. Sure it has been difficult and he had his insecurities along the way, but he had a lovely partner to help him out of those holes he unintentionally mentally dug himself.

That support from you helped Dazai a great deal, as did holding his daughter for the first time. He actually cried when he did. He felt as though she was the most fragile thing in the entire world; a fragile thing that could be tainted solely by the blood on her fathers hands, the sins he has committed, yet every day she proves to be the most heaven-sent thing he has and ever will come across.

While he's sucked into his own thoughts, he can't help but smile subconsciously at the life has made for himself and refusing to let his past hold him back. He couldn't be happier, and he truly believed nothing would ever make him more ecstatic than his unforeseen family.

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd headcanons #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd dazai #bungo stray dogs dazai #dazai #dazai osamu x reader #bsd dazai osamu #dazai bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x you #osamu dazai x reader #headcannons #bsd headcannons #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #dad!dazai

[ymaohoh]

Masterlist

So I've fallen right into the deep end of the HellCheer fandom. Ride or die. I'm in love with Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie Munson. The fans are fucking talented too, alright? I've been binging fics and the artwork but there's certain troupes/ideas/prompts that keep rattling away in my brainbox. I'm going to note them here for if (or when) I maybe write something for the two...but (public service announcement) if anyone knows a fic out there which can scratch these little itches please link me up.

Updated: 18.04.24

My Completed Fics

Eddie wants to buy something nice for Chrissy. Candles are romantic, right? He ventures on a quest to the mall - Yankee Candle Baby - oneshot.

Chrissy is such a Brat with Eddie and Jason watches it (while hiding). Jason's POV - Chrissy Cunningham is a Brat - oneshot - mature

What if Chrissy ran from Eddie after her vision? What if it pushed them apart? They later share a joint and things get much much worse. My take on 'Chrissy lives' but it takes a little while for them to get back on the same page - Chrissy Runs Away - Chapter 3/3.

Eddie and Chrissy have unprotected sex against a brick wall after his gig because they can't wait - “We could always just…do it anyway?" - oneshot - mature

Eddie and Chrissy die but they're summoned again for the final fight Ft. time travel and angst - my hope for season 5 - Howl - oneshot

Gender Swap AU where Ellie Munson saves Chris Cunningham - a play on 'Chrissy Lives' - Rule 63' - oneshot

Ongoing

Vecna keeps Chrissy in hell - 'and she's a bride of the fucking devil' - 1/2 chapters.

My Mess of Drabbles

Eddie dies and Chrissy is waiting for him - end of passion play, crumbling away - short drabble only

Chrissy the Vampire Slayer AU

Labyrinth AU

Headcannon Prompts

Max's relationship with Hellcheer

Dustin's relationship with Hellcheer

Chrissy and Wayne Munson's (beautiful) relationship

Chrissy and The Party headcanons

Favourite Fanfictions Masterlist

Need a new fic? Not sure where to start? Check out these INCREDIBLE Hellcheer fanfictions

In need of/ Prompts

Chrissy gets her first tattoo. A cliche at this point no? I'm torn between her getting this done without Eddie knowing as a surprise, or if I want him right there holding her hand.

Eddy eyeing her up in the school cafeteria or class. Basically Eddy simping over Chrissy.

Anything with Eddie and Chrissy reuniting after death / or in the upside-down (manifesting the second).

Chrissy and Eddie getting high together. Maybe a dash of 'will I remember any of this tomorrow?' as they confess their feelings and frustrations.

Eddie loves Chrissy in a sundress. The more feminine, girly, and flouncy the better. He wants to get his hands under it.

He also loves her in a Hellfire top. Anything really that marks her subtly as his.

Other character POV's watching them flirt. Sweet sweet music to my...eyes?

He loves it when she wears one of his rings. She has plenty of her own jewelry (and it's all real gold/expensive/fit for a princess) but it doesn't mean anything really. Her eyes light up at his rings, though.

Together they create a D&D character for her to practice with. They discuss what type she's most likely to be (Eddie's a bard right?). I'm feeling Chrissy might also have that bard energy (she's THE hype girl, right?) or a healer? They definitely get distracted though and don't actually finish it.

He is a rambler. He talks when he's nervous - and Chrissy finds it easy to keep up.

Chrissy tells the jocks to leave the Hellfire club alone in the school corridor. She gets annoyed when she hears them referring to the kids as 'freaks'. Eddie adores the fire and nerve he sees in her eyes because it only really ever comes out when she's in protective mode (bonus points 1) if she tells Jason to fuck off 2) she walks away with the Hellfire club after).

Chrissy is the only one who gets him to study (and pass). He knows he has a reason to now, you know? They've got plans and he isn't wasting time.

Eddie has doubts about Chrissy really truly loving him - she's way out of his league, after all, so she makes sure to create visual reminders. She takes their photo together and tacks it up in her locker for all to see.

Eddie loves fucking Chrissy in her cheerleading uniform. She loves fucking him when he's backstage. They will want to mark their place in each other's bizarre worlds.

Eddie worries about his future with Chrissy (what's his dumbass supposed to do while she excels at college?) but he likes the way his last name suits her.

Eddie is ONLY soft for Chrissy. A scene where he's trying to be big and scary for the club and she unknowingly fractures this image by doing something oh so achingly cute. Maybe she giggles or squee's during a D&D session? It takes him ages to drag himself back into his DM role.

I'll be adding to this , fo' sure.

Is there an official name for this dynamic? Unpopular baddass x sunshine princess?

All aboard the ship. Ahoy ahoy.

#hellcheer #chrissy x eddie #eddie x chrissy #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson #stranger things #i'm a sucker for this dynamic. please don't send help #Chrissy's got the cutest smile #edssy #eddisy #hellcheer fanfic #hellcheer headcanons #chrissy cunningham x eddie munson #stranger things season 5 #eddissy #eddissy headcannons

[llonelygoddess]

Meeting Sandor Clegane headcanons

A/N: This is very self indulgent so reader is Black and plus size ( and I mean PLUS size). Also I'm personally Non-binary but I'm just so used to writing in female perspective soooo that's what i did ( I mean kinda, its ambiguous) :) This section is mostly just them meeting and falling in love.

Also lets pretend they know what stars are in this time period lmao

Also also I'm very open to feedback and any suggestions ppl may have so please feel free to leave me an Ask or Message!

Tw: Creepy men

You are a lady in waiting for a visiting noblewoman in King's Landing. You're from a highborn house but left your home for the opportunities the capitol provided.

Most days you find yourself waiting on your Lady and learning the way of the court (which basically means learning to talk circles around each other). She's one of the few kind people to you in this city and it's not from lack of trying.

Being in a bigger body than the other women puts a target on your back for verbal attacks and harassment, and as much as your Lady does her best to shield you from it there's only so much she can do.

That's how you met Sandor

On your way back from Court one day you find yourself cornered by two guardsmen who had their eyes on you all morning. They poke at you with their swords, making comments about ripping through your clothes when Sandor rounds a corner and spots all of you.

He meets your eyes and turns to the guards, " What do you cunts think you're doing?"

They whip around confidently until they see him and stutter over themselves backing away. You take this moment to rush away but not before whispering a thank you as you pass him.

From then on you begin to notice him more often, in Court, on your walks through the garden, even during meals. The first few times you catch his eye he quickly looks away, much to your disappointment.

It wasn't often a woman of your likeness was defended by a man, let alone at all, so you try to make it a point to find him to thank him properly.

It's difficult catching him alone but one night as your looking at the stars from the garden you hear the clanking of armor pass behind you and stop, " What're you doing here?" A deep voice asks.

You turn to him, " Oh, sorry Ser I was just enjoying the stars. Aren't they beautiful? "

"I'm no Ser, just The Hound"

" Well that's not a proper name, what did your mother call you?"

He hesitates, " Sandor"

" Thank you Sandor, for saving me a while back. I don't know what I would've done without your help." You pluck a few large daisies from the patch of flowers next to you and hold it out for him. " It's not much, but if you press it between book pages they can be used as a bookmark."

He looks around confused, " Girl, I don't read. Now lets get you back to your chambers before you have another run in with that scum. "

Dejected, you place the flowers down but stay where you are looking up at the stars. It wasn't often you could sneak out and get a good look so you savor the moment.

He huffs looking up, " What's there to look at any way? Just a bunch of lights"

Laughing softly you say, " They are more than just lights, I mean I know what the Maesters say about them but I choose to believe something else. I believe they're our dreams and wishes, hung by the Gods as a promise to fulfill them."

You realize how silly that must be to a man who kills for a living, but as you turn to him to apologize you see his face turned upwards and his eyes shut.

You both take a moment in silence beneath the stars before you turn to walk towards your room, " Good night, Sandor. I hope the night treats you well."

( What you don't see as you walk away is Sandor picking up and pocketing one of the Daisies)

During the weeks following your encounter with him, you begin to see a change in his demeanor towards you. His cold stares turn soft and fleeting and when your eyes meet in Court or during meals they linger as if he's trying to solve something in your eyes.

It flustered you to no end and soon those stolen glances turned to greetings as you passed by each other, which seemed to happen so frequently now.

He also seemed to find you every night you snuck out to see the stars. It started out staying quiet as the first night, but quickly turned to whispered conversations under moonlight till dawn. You did most of the talking, but that was okay, he wasn't one with words but his eyes could tell you stories.

Every once in a while you were even able to get him to crack a smile at your jokes about Joffrey, but he was always telling you to be careful for unwanted listeners.

He was like that more often, looking out for you. You hadn't been bothered by any of the guards since that day, the kitchen staff weren't giving you looks as you plated food anymore and it felt like you were finally fitting in. ( as much as you could in this place)

You wouldn't know it but whenever he was in your presence, even from afar, his eyes would wander to you searching for any excuse to be close. One too many times he was caught doing so and had to swiftly deal with said person. The last thing he needed was any gossip reaching yours or Joffrey's ears.

And then one night it all ended. The battle at blackwater bay.

You were tending to the crying woman and children hiding when a large BOOM is heard as the door swings open. And in pops Sandor, out of breath and rushing towards you,

" I'm getting you the fuck out of here"

He lifts you up over his shoulder, leaving no room for discussion, and heads out to his horse.

After weeks of travel, you find yourself hundreds of miles away from Kings Landing, your home, and your Lady. You thought you'd never see the day you miss Kings Landing but here you are, miles away from home with a man that makes your heart flutter. And yet, you're not sure he even feels the same.

Through the breaking daylight you see you're standing on the outskirts of a small village.

You say," You must've been frightened that night...the night the water was on fire, but what would make you think to take me with you. I'm nobody. "

He looks at you as if you've offended him and wordlessly reaches into his pocket to grab the book smashed daisy and hands it to you.

" Now, that house over there looks abandoned. We could set up- "

With all the bravery you can muster you place a hand on the side of his face and reach up to gently kiss him.

He softly places his hand over yours as he leans down for you.

After a few moments you pull away, " We might be seeing a falling star tonight."

He looks at you puzzled

You laugh lightly, " Seems a dream of mine finally came true"

Pt 2 with the actual headcanons of being with him and living in the country side should be out in the next week or so. Hope you enjoyed!!

#Game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones preferences #Sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane #sandor clegane imagine #Got headcanons #got fanfiction #Got x reader #sandor clegane headcanons #sandor x reader

[callsigndragon]

Desperate times, desperate measures | Ch. 3: Mr. & Mrs. Seresin

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!writer!reader (Most of the times, she will be called Page)

Word count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of death, bureaucracy stuff, idiots being idiots, EMMA'S FIRST (and short) APPEARANCE, jake mentions sex once? This is a biiiiiiiig slow burn, man.

A/N: i posted this, but I'm not here lol. small chapter, but at least we have a chapter.

It's okay if you like it and all, but please... a comment is also welcomed and if you reblog it? I'll kiss you on the forehead.

Masterlist

“So you got married recently?” The lady at CPS says, while typing away on the computer. 

You clear your throat, looking at Jake before answering. “Yeah, we were planning on getting married in a few months, and our friends were going to help us organize the wedding, but... They’re not here anymore.” 

The lady, who you think is called Sandy, looks at you with a sorrowful expression. You want to roll your eyes. How can Jake’s plan be working? When discussing how to approach CPS about your rushed wedding, he said to pull the "our friends died" card. And it’s working. 

“I’m so sorry that you had to rush your wedding… I’m sure it was going to be a wonderful event.” She says, turning the chair around once the printer starts buzzing. Once those documents are signed, Emma will be yours. And parenthood will begin as soon as Emma is in your arms. 

“We were going to get married at the beach. It was a beautiful place.” Jake replies, placing his hand on your leg, just inches away from your knee. The contact burns your skin, and not in a romantic way. 

“Oh my god, a beach wedding? It would have been absolutely beautiful, Mr. Seresin.” The woman says, writing a few things on the document before giving it to you. She’s literally swooning over Jake right now. 

Pretty much like all the women you have seen in the parking lot before entering the building. 

“I’m just sad that my pretty…girl didn’t get to have the wedding of her dreams.” Jake continues with his lies and his intentions of fooling the CPS worker as much as possible. You’ve noticed the small pause, doubting about the next unsaid word. It feels like pronouncing the words "his" and "wife" in the same sentence was as hard as taking down an enemy aircraft. 

“I’m sure you’ll get a chance in the future.” She hands you the papers and two shiny blue pens, pointing to the blank spaces where you two have to sign. 

You grab the pen, feeling its weight, twirling it around your fingers, trying to find the perfect position to write with it. It feels uncomfortable, no matter how much you try it. But it’s not the pen that feels wrong. 

It’s you, signing a paper where it says that Mr. and Mrs. Seresin are now legal guardians of Emma Hawkins, who doesn’t feel comfortable. Because once this process is over, Emma Hawkins will cease to exist. She’ll be Emma Seresin. 

That’s all that's left of them. Their surname. And it will be gone. 

Just like they are.

“Well, give me a second, and I’ll bring you your daughter.” Sandy announces with a smile, saving all the files into the folder that is soon stored in a drawer. After that, she leaves the room, the sound of her heels echoing down the hallway. 

“My daughter.” 

You turn your head slowly in his direction, feeling Jake’s words as your own. “It’s our daughter now.” 

“She’s not. She’s my dead friend’s daughter. Not mine.” He clenches his jaw, bouncing his leg up and down, and you wonder if this situation isn’t too much for you too. Maybe they shouldn’t have named you two Emma’s legal guardians. 

“Sorry to break it to you, pal. But once the process is over, she’ll have your name. She’ll be your daughter.” 

“Where the fuck did I get myself into?” He mutters, covering his face with his hands. 

“It was your idea,” you remind him, noticing that you still have the pen in your hand. You leave it on the desk, watching all around the room. They may look after children here, but this is the most boring place you've ever visited. Not even a child-related thing hangs on the walls; there’s only framed certificates and a clock. “I was ready to do this on my own.” 

Jake lets out an airy chuckle, getting up from his chair and pacing around the room. “They wouldn’t let you, you know it.” 

“I could’ve tried. But now I’m married to you for a fucking year.” 

He points a finger at you, leaning a bit over your seated figure. "I will not allow strangers to look after my goddaughter."

You slap his hand away, standing up to look him in the eye. “It’s your daughter, now.” 

“You’re fucking annoying,” he mumbles, stepping even closer and not even once darting his eyes away from yours. 

“You’re a hypocrite. You don’t want her to be adopted by someone else, but you refuse the idea of calling her daughter.” 

Jake clenches his jaw, talking through his teeth. “I’m not a father.” 

You pat his chest, whispering slowly your next words. “You’re a husband and a father now, Jake Seresin. Don’t think you can go around and live your life the way you’ve been doing it until now.” 

He’s so close now that you can smell his perfume. It smells good. It's strange how his entire being makes you want to vomit, but his essence is pleasant. “So what, you want us to play the loving family, invite our friends for dinner, and when they leave, we end up fucking on every surface of the house?” 

You scoff, wondering what the fuck he's on. "Do you intend to do that with your future wife?" 

“I don’t know if I’ll have a wife after this horrible experience.” 

“You better not. My heartfelt sympathies go out to the poor woman who has to deal with your sorry ass." 

“You little–”

Jake's words are cut short when the CPS worker opens the door. You were so engrossed in your conversation that you forgot where you were and why you came here. Did she hear something? Did she hear you say all those things, and she knows that you have lied to her in her face? What are you going to do? 

Your body acts on its own, taking advantage of the close distance you two are at, and you grab Jake by the neck, pulling him down so you can kiss him. Two newlyweds kissing? Yeah, nobody will be surprised by that. 

As if he knew the intentions behind your actions, his hands move to your waist, pulling you close. Playing the part, like he has been doing all day. 

“Oops, looks like mom and dad are having fun!” Sandy says, opening the door entirely with Emma in her arms. 

You can see in her little face that, even if she can’t comprehend what has happened, she knows that something terrible has occurred and that her life is not the same. She seems to have been crying, and her cheeks are still wet. 

“Oh my god, Emma!” You rush to her, grabbing her in your arms and securing her from the rest of the world. She hangs to you, her tiny fists clenching into your clothes. 

It's like she’s trying to hold on and not lose any other member of her family. 

“Hey, baby girl.” Jake walks to you, and Emma’s face lights up, emitting gleeful sounds of pure happiness. Jake might be a player and an idiot, but he loves this little girl more than anyone else in the world. “Oh yeah, I missed you too.” 

“You can take her home now. I wish you the best for your marriage. I know you’ll last. I can see how much you love each other.” 

Jake and you look at each other, raising an eyebrow. 

Maybe you should stop writing and start an acting career.

Once you leave the building, you go back home. Well, what now is your home. Anne and Luke’s will said that you had to live in their house. Gabs is there, waiting for you two. She has offered to take care of her all afternoon while you two go to your houses and get all the necessary things. 

“How are we doing this?” Jake asks, driving all the way to your house. “We can’t pack everything today.” 

You sigh, leaning your head against the window. “I know. And their house doesn’t have room for all my books.” 

“How many books do you have?” 

“More than I can read,” you confess, earning a snort from the man. “Do you read?” 

“When I have time. I don’t read your chick lit romance stuff, so don’t ask me about it,” he says, driving slowly once he enters the street you live on. 

“I wasn’t counting on it.” 

He parks in front of your house, a place that has been a refuge, and now you have to leave. “You want help?” 

You tear your eyes away from the main entrance and look at him. “You offering?” 

“I guess if I help you here, and you help me in my house, we’ll be faster. You know Gabby has stuff to do.” 

You nod, knowing that he’s right. “Yeah, sure. Come in.” 

He turns off the engine, grabs two boxes from the back of his truck, and walks behind you until you reach your doorstep. He chuckles when you open your bag to look for the keys. You turn to look at him, frowning. “What’s so funny?” 

“Never thought I’d see the day you’d let me in your house,” he responds, scratching his eyebrow. “Not after that date, at least.”

“It wasn’t even a date. We never got to the restaurant,” you recall, shaking your head at the thought of that horrifying night. 

“You didn’t want to go out with me, Page.” 

You open the door, enter your house, and turn on the lights. “Actually, I did.” 

“You did?” 

Why does he sound surprised? “Yeah. Luke said so many good things about you. I was interested in getting to know you better.” 

“Miss Page had a little crush on the fighter pilot, huh?” Jake teases, and you grab a pillow and throw it at his head. 

“No. And all the chances of me having a crush on said fighter pilot died when he made a booty call while we were still in the car,” you move around the living room, collecting your laptop and charger and some other things you might need. 

“I must confess, that was a dick move.” He admits, opening the boxes and leaving them on the sofa. “I’ll go get the edibles from the fridge.”

You watch him walk away, feeling bad for him. You two are acting like idiots one second and being civil the next. You've had too many emotions in the last few days. “Jake?” 

He turns around, looking at you. “Yeah?” 

“I’m sorry for being mean to you. You’re having a hard time, like me. And... I'm sorry you’ve lost your best friend.” 

Jake’s eyes shine a bit more than usual, the result of the unshed tears that threaten to fall. “Thank you, Page. I’m sorry for saying all those things back in the office. It’s…this isn’t how I wanted to marry, you know?” 

You nod. Of course you know. “I write romance novels, Jake. I crave the romanticism and the slow burn and falling in love and…” you sit down, letting out an air you’ve been holding since who knows when. “I won’t have that anymore.” 

“In a year, you’ll be free, Page.” He reminds you, leaning over the threshold, arms crossed across his chest, tightening the t-shirt around his muscular biceps. “Just a year.” 

“It’s easy for you to say, but… I’ll be a divorced mom in a year. Who wants to marry a divorced mom?” 

Jake wants to say something that’ll make you have more confidence in yourself and maybe have hopes for the future, but he knows that there are a lot of men that will run away at the thought of you having a baby. It’s not going to be impossible for you, but it would be complicated. 

“You’ll find someone, Page. I’m sure of it.” 

“And if I don’t?” 

“We’ll think about it in a year, okay? Now pack your things, we still have to go to my house.” 

You put all the things you’ve found around the living room in one of the boxes and move upstairs, followed by an uneasy feeling. Maybe you have to enjoy this year. It might be the only opportunity in married life you’ll ever get.

BONUS: Luke and Anne's (Now Jake and Page's) house:

@halibshepherd

@mygyn

@the-romanian-is-bae

@justanothermagicalsara

@drakelover78

@celestialeviereads

@averyhotchner

@ravenhood2792

@potato-girl99981

@callsign-sunshine

@purplevortexx

@shrimping-for-all

@luvrrish

@footprintsinthesxnd

@nikfigueiredo

@allivingstone01

@violyn20

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@dempy

@hangmandruigandmav

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@phoenix1388

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@crthurston

@fandom-life-12

@atarmychick007

@emorychase

@twsssmlmaa

@meigalibrary

@eugene-emt-roe

@startrekfangirl2233

@topgunslut

@clancycucumber230

@books-are-escapes

@alldaysdreamers

@mavrellover91

@soulmates8

#top gun maverick #top gun x reader #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun fanfiction #hangman x reader #jake hangman x reader #hangman seresin #hangman imagine #top gun #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x fem!reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman x you #top gun hangman #jake 'hangman' seresin #hangman fluff #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun

[daddy-suguru]

hdcs of dragon!suguru

anonymous - asked a question!

Imagine that dragon!suguru finds incubus!reader while sifting through the hoard of another dragon and decides he wants them for himself instead :))

 ✑ tags: explicit, light fluff, monster fucking, dragon!suguru geto, incubus!reader, suguru saves you from another dragon, size kink, talk of cum, pussy eating, suguru tells you how to play with yourself, cum shower, Suguru feeds you when you ask

 ✑ reposted and deleted from my other page

Dragon!suguru who…doesn’t understand hoarding living creatures. So he frees you from the dragon that has you captive. And since you have no where to go, he lets you live with him.

Dragon!suguru who.. takes his time earning your trust by befriending you. And it takes a while to earn his trust as well. Which means at first he hides the rest of his hoard to you. Since you aren’t apart of his hoard, but now a kind of a roommate.

Dragon!suguru who…waits for you to ask him with help feeding. Since you are still an incubus. And for the first time one a while you enjoy having sex. Instead of it just being a means for food.

Dragon!suguru who…has a long tongue, that has a pointed tip. Which feels so good slipping inside of you. His tongue is soft and warm, stretching you out and filling you up. While also pressing up against the outside of your pussy. Which makes your clit rub against his large tongue with every move of your hips.

Dragon!suguru who…cock is painfully hard. But he won’t ask you to help him. Even though he knows you are feeding off how badly he wants you. He waits for you to ask for his cock. ⇝ “I wondered how long it would take before you asked me to fuck your tiny pussy. You were once human weren’t you? That’s why your funsized.”

Dragon!suguru who…is a piece of walking history but can’t tell you first hand account of any important part of history that happened. Since he dipped out and decided to shun the rest of the world since he didn’t like it. He would find out from Satoru who as the prince of dragons meant he had a more worldy interactions.

Dragon!suguru who…shows you his hoard of which has some books too small for him to read yet contacting stories he wishes he could know. He has various beautiful art, blankets, and a lot of wine.

Dragon!suguru who…lets you snuggle up close on warm nights since he puts off heat as we dragon. He adores cold nights now, since you lay on his chest and read to him. He in turn will read stories from books too big for you hold.

Dragon!suguru whose…cum leaves you feeling warm. There is so much of it and it’s so thick, it makes your stomach bulge. Even while some of it is slowly trickling out.

Dragon!suguru who…who can’t finger you. But will tell you how to play with yourself using the various toys. You end up getting to prep yourself before taking Suguru.

Dragon!suguru who…will finish by jerking off over you giving you a thick cum shower. Which feels just as warm on the outside as it does on the inside.

Dragon!suguru who…lets succubus!reader ride him his back in between his wings. While he is in his true dragon form so he can take you beautiful places that can only be reached through flight. ⇝ His favorite place is a large waterfall hidden in the side of a huge cliff. It’s on his home world meaning most things are close to scale with Suguru’s size.

Dragon!suguru who… He loves the invention of a camera. And with some direction and time figures out how to take the most beautiful landscape and profile pictures. Which you end up getting one printed out and framed like the rest of his art.

Dragon!suguru who…is can manipulate his height of his hybrid form between 16.5 and 13 feet tall. Which means sometimes he makes himself grow in size while inside you.

Dragon!suguru who…is in heat for three months and his cock won’t go down unless you help him cum at least three times. He gets so clingy during this time, wanting to keep you in his nest.

m.list

#suguru geto #geto suguru #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kasien #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen x reader #jjk geto #geto smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #getou smut #getou x reader #getou suguru #suguru getou

[rataccatak]

major grom/plague doctor pages that made me feel big emotions (pt 2.5/3)

yall im SO sorry for the long wait. It's been a year since I've sat down and did some Thinking bout this comic but my love for this franchise is immune to hiatus. I was orig gonna go chronologically but I wanted to post something rather than nothing so here is a panel I've wanted to scream about ever since I first read it.

"I'm not ready to lose you again" scene (Plague Doctor issue 14)

We all knew this page was coming; it is so fucking good. Surprisingly though, it's not the final hug that gets me as much as THIS PRELIMINARY SCENE RIGHT HERE.

Despite Sergey's queercoded flirtatious presence, he doesn't really show much physical affection towards anyone (at least, not in a vulnerable & genuine way) WHICH IS WHY I WENT APESHIT WHEN I SAW THIS. It shows a level of vulnerability that Sergey doesn't ever truly share with anyone because of course, it's reserved for Oleg and OF COURSE it has to come after he tells Oleg to SHOOT HIM if he ever comes close to putting his life at risk. It is SUCH a great moment in Sergey's development--not just the rearranging of his priorities (shifting from his plague doctor mission to Oleg), but his willingness to relinquish control to Oleg. He doesn't say "let me die" or "run away" or even just "stop me," motherfucker says SHOOT ME. It's, of course, a parallel to Sergey's attempted murder of Oleg in The Game, only now Sergey is willing to put himself in the same position as Oleg WITH the motivations REVERSED so that he intends to SAVE Oleg by letting himself get shot. Like. Poetic cinema. What the actual fuck.

Also, "your faith is the only thing saving me" is the most beautiful thing I think I've heard in my entire life. It's easy to think of Sergey as this laidback and callous terrorist who doesn't really interact with the human tragedies of his actions, and to an extent, this is true (he is VERY MUCH an "ends justify the means" kinda guy). But I think his remorseless attitude doesn't stem from an inability to grasp how truly awful he is, but rather, from a hyperawareness of the human cost of his actions that eventually just pushes him to ACCEPT his own irredeemability. Kinda like "I'm already past the point of redemption, so why stop now?" way of thinking. This line confirms it for me. It communicates the absolute DEPRAVITY Sergey assumes of himself, his belief in his own irredeemability, and the acknowledgement that Oleg's trust in his goodness is the only thing stopping him from losing himself to that impulse. Oleg is Sergey's heart and moral center. He redeems and humanizes him when the world and Sergey himself is unable to (exhibit A and B below).

And it is so incredibly tragic. That shot of Oleg reciprocating the hug is pervaded with such desperate and futile but UNKILLABLE hope, like he's trying to physically cling to the person Sergey used to be (or more accurately, who he thinks he is). There's even a role reversal here; now Sergey is the pragmatist, and Oleg is the naive idealist, unable to come to terms with the limitations of his own control. And that sort of deliberate ignorance only further hastens the inevitable, and it is so tragic, this scene. Another reference to The Game with the power dynamics between Sergey and Oleg reversed: once again, Oleg puts blind faith in Sergey. But this time, it may cost him SERGEY'S life, not his. And to an extent, Sergey also put his blind faith in Oleg as well; when the chips are down, he trusts Oleg to shoot him before he can kill him again. Whether their trust in eachother is enough to save them this time... that question is left uncomfortably open.

#major grom #plague doctor #sergey razumovsky #oleg volkov #serovolk #bubble comics #im a mess in distress but i still love this comic to bits n pieces #i hope the pd fandom is still going strong you guys contribute more to this world than most governments

[ichiruki]

Don't know if you got same question as this ... But I want to ask can you explain why relationship between Rukia and Ichigo is romantic not friendly and show moments which actually shows how they have romantic feelings for eachother?

** you can ignore it if you want ... But I'm new here and in the fandom too so I had questions 😶 **

That’s the beauty of Ichigo and Rukia’s relationship! They love each other in many ways and since very early on. I think the Fullbring arc really cemented that they also love each other romantically because after having time apart we see just how much (and how fondly) they think of the other... and how nobody else comes close.

Chapter 424 is Ichigo telling us what’s been going on since the battle with Aizen and every panel is full with the calm life he’s living except when talking about not having powers. To me it suggests he has a lot of feelings about that fact and, given the size, he tries not to think about it too much.

But when we get to the panel about Rukia there’s so much empty space it takes up half the page. It’s presenting itself as the heaviest thing on his mind after the battle; not being able to see her. 

Also, (this is just a theory) seeing this in color makes it look like the panels are connected up to this point... like if he thinks too long about what happened he’ll eventually think about her. “Now I don’t have any soul reaper powers” changes the subject to Karin. “It’s been 17 months since the battle” changes the subject to school. “Ever since then Rukia hasn’t come to KK once” the scene ends and transitions to one about missing her. It’s like Rukia is always in the back of his mind and after all this time it’s easier to avoid it.

Of course he misses her, but having an excuse for her ready proves how much she’s been on his mind, and outright denying it is so like him. I wouldn’t say this specifically is rooted in “romance” but with other moments we can see just how much he wants to see her again and it really goes beyond what he feels for anyone else.

Take for example when he only mentioned that Rukia hadn’t come to visit him despite having other friends from the SS, especially Renji. In the next chapter he dreamed of them and Byakuya but it’s Rukia that stands out.

She’s singled out from the guys and her panel is bigger, but what really separates her from them is the fact that it’s cropped sooo close to her face. There isn’t even a sliver of her shoulders, Ichigo is really concentrating here. Renji and Byakuya’s presence is enough but not when it comes to Rukia, he seems desperate to see her again.

Being a protector is literally in Ichigo’s name so losing the power to do so was hard on him, anyone could see that. Orihime was glad at first but ultimately had to ask Rukia to figure out a way to get his power back and Chad could barely look at him since he lost it. Chad goes on a little bit more about how wanting to fight/protect those around him makes Ichigo who he is, and while that’s definitely correct what comes next suggests that there’s something more important. 

Love is subjective. Riruka drew her ability out through her love/adoration of cute material things and the happiness it brings her. Orihime persevered because of the love she feels for her best friend Tatsuki who always protected her. Chad manifested his ability because of the pride his family (his grandfather, who he loves) instilled in him. Fullbring can be activated with love that is familial, platonic, or even with a hobby/inanimate things.

Saving his sisters from the same monster that killed his mother wasn’t enough to activate his fullbring. Helping Orihime, Chad, and Uryu, his friends, also wasn’t enough. Being strong enough to hold back the equivalent of 100 thousand blades in the form of a ginormous, fiery bird wasn’t enough either. Apparently it doesn’t even slightly trigger it.

Remember when I said Ichigo was avoiding Rukia? She was present in each event he thinks about. Of course she isn’t the most important person in each scenario, but even in the moment he saves her life he doesn’t picture her face like the rest of them. Him doing that cements the fact that he’s trying to hold back thinking about her... until he can’t anymore.

The power comes all at once when he finally thinks of her. Just her. 

At the end of the SS arc we figure out that what Ichigo wanted most when he saved Rukia was to see her smile again, and because of the power he gained for her sake he was able to do that; because of power he was able to save so many other people, too. The thing is, he remembers her in the moment he lost his powers; not one of the times he saves her or she saves him or the result of any of that. He began training for fullbring to protect the people important to him but it isn’t being activated by those bonds and instead by the pure desire to see her smiling again. 

Putting everything together tells us that he loves her romantically; if his fullbring isn’t being activated by his platonic or familial bonds or the pride in having the power to protect them there is only one type of love that separates her from the rest. 

We can keep going... with a liiiittle bit on Rukia, too.

Seeing her for the first time in 17+ months literally stopped the rain and put light back in his eyes after he lost his power AGAIN with the people he’s closest to  turned against him. He was bawling his eyes out, more powerless than he’s ever been, and unsettled about his dad and Urahara’s sudden appearance, but she immediately put him at ease without any effort at all.

He believes in her right away just like she does in him. Like she always does.

When Rukia gets the chance to fully think about how special and strong Ichigo is, both in strength and heart, we see her in complete awe. 

If she was simply proud and or amazed by him she could have replicated the smile she had at sokyoku hill when she felt his power “flowing into her.” The expressions on her face here (off the top of my head) are completely new and softer than ever. It looks like her own heart skipped a beat —

— It skipped just like time does when they’re seperated. 

The arc opened with Ichigo wondering if he can keep up with the speed of the world without her and just about ended with this poem, “When the two that share destiny part and reunite, beyond the frame of time, the ceased clock will awake and start to tick once again.” Ichigo and Rukia are incomplete when they’re apart and are at their happiest when together. 

When remembering her happiest moments during her fight with As Nodt, Rukia thought of Ichigo the most. When fighting Yhwach and remembering his most despairing moments, the night Ichigo lost Rukia to Renji and Byakuya comes second after losing his mom. The emphasis on their bond is consistent throughout the story and even until the last chapter.

If Ichigo and Rukia’s relationship was supposed to be strictly platonic the amount of content we were given would have to be cut in half. Cut down on the anime fillers/openings/endings, the movies, the musicals, the color spreads...  the poems about the other person, the speeches about how one feels about the other, the emphasis on their shared trauma and the fact that they saved and helped each other overcome their misery, the overwhelming feeling of wanting to see the other person happy, Ichigo’s parents replicating his and Rukia’s first meeting, “The Love and Destiny Ichigo Inherited,” the partings, the reunions... Y’know, put all the ships on an even playing field, but that’s not what happened. 

Ichigo and Rukia have the kind of relationship that was said to be “more than friends” since the second arc. 200 chapters later when they spend over a year without seeing or even speaking to each other we can see how they spent that time thinking of the other and more than anyone else. Time goes on but their bond will never break, and they don’t deserve anything less. 

#bleach #ichiruki #meta

[inevitably-johnlocked]

i have a confession

recently i had some trouble and had to delete an email

problem is, i used the google docs there to write my fics. and i thought i downloaded them all, but only one of my major ones did, and i lost everything else

literally all of it

i am anonymous because i lost my tumblr acc but on ao3 i am veetheree, and i had this longer dilemma regarding my potterlock fic (pretty disillusioned with rowling and all.that, unsure whether to continue) but even so i saw that a lot of people subscribed to it and i wanted to at least see where the story leads, i had over 300k words apart from the 40k i published

and i domt hve it anymore :') i didnt check the process because it seemed okay and i had other uni and work stuff to take care of, and now i check it and :') it's gone :')) im not doing well, and i am going to delete the fic i think

i dont have the energy to maintain it and i dont want it to be left in the dust either - i have lost all hope for it, and this is just a punch in the gut. and i was proud of the plot and how i intertwined the 2 worlds too

this is mostly just a rant because i dont really have anybody else who can relate to the pain of fic writing and the challenges that come with it

also, as to why i had to delete the email - it's complicated, hacking situation and such, but it happened over 2 months ago so im not able to retrieve it and neither do i really feel like looking into it, im done with that fic for good 😭

that's all, thank you for being a safe space for me to go to, and i apologise to anyone who was waiting for that fic to be updated :(

Hey Lovely *HUGS*

OH GOODNESS, I'm SO sorry you had a garbage time with your email, and even more so, accidentally deleted fics from your Google Drive without saving all of them. I'm TERRIFIED of losing my own fics from my G-Drive all the time (I do actually write and have about 15 "snippets" of fics on there) and back them up religiously.

That said, I can understand how life can overtake literally everything and just make being online Too Much™ – happens to me all the time 💜🖤. And I know how disheartening it can be to just... not have the motivation anymore to continue on with something, heaven knows I've done that plenty in my 40 years, LOL. And Lovely, we have to remember to do what's best for us in the long run.

When I was a teen, I wrote a fairly popular Sonic fanfic series that I never completed, literally left it on a cliffhanger. This was back before even FFNet, and fics were distributed in the Sonic fandom on our Geocities pages via Webring, LOL. After life took over, it still remains unfinished over 20 years later. I recently found the original word docs of all 9 of the stories (with the 10th one half-finished) and while I cringe at my bad writing from back then, I still love immersing myself in that world. One of these days, maybe I'll finish it, because I do think it was a great concept and intriguing storyline that dealt a lot with humanity and sentience, just obviously written by a teenager, hahaha.

The point of that anecdote? We can still love the things we wrote, and still want to engulf ourselves in that world from time to time and not feel bad about it. And if you decide to come back to it a decade from now, that's okay too. You're only human.

And never EVER hesitate to come here for a friendly eyeball to vent to. I try my best to make y'all feel not so alone. Glad to see you are okay, Vee, truly. That's what's most important.

*SNUGGLE BUGGLE HUGGLE* I hope you have a beautiful, prosperous day. And I'm sure your fic-fans understand <3

#steph replies #steph's sofa #new tag i think... i answer enough asks like this :) #chatting with lovelies #fandom life #author problems #writer problems #my advice #i am not a professional

[astridthevalkyrie]

standing at the crossroads: chapter 8

Captain Levi is your lover. But more importantly, he’s your superior, and you’re well prepared to follow him to hell if he needs you to. And when people start turning into titans, and every bloody death is one step closer to the truth, hell may be exactly where you’re going.

Chapter 7 | Series Masterlist

taglist: @whore-for-anime, @macaronnv, @sparklython, @marciabito, @rintarhoes, @honeycakiee, @dracq, @welcometofunkytown, @tokyo-banana, @andsothemonsterscrept, @c0urtn3y, @rukova, @deadlyaffairs, @yellowminb, @sempiternalxmusic, @lacheri, @midaribaby, @rawritzrobin, @meeraaa-17, @atinyarmyx1, @kissalix, @inaaavae, @castellandiangelo, @ackermandick, @missyasma, @tenaciouswritersheep, @notgoodforlife, @sakurashell, @lqme, @affection-thief, @clusiesuzie, @feverish-dove

chapter warnings: female!reader, smut, feelings a lot of feelings, penetrative sex, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), creampie, extremely lovey dovey sex

a/n: There are a lot of references to past chapters in this one, I’m curious to see how many people recognize them! But more importantly, this chapter has been a long time coming, and I am immensely satisfied with how it came out. This is it, the climax (ha) of Levi and reader’s love story, the most romantic thing I have ever written, and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Appropriately coming out on our baby’s birthday <3

Starting the second the sun begins to dip under the horizon, you can safely claim that there will never again be a night like this. That seems like a sad declaration, but it’s not, it’s really just you acknowledging how special tonight feels. One arm wrapped around Ricky’s, you lean against his shoulder as you walk back to the base. You’re a perfect combination of cold and warm, and you have no doubt that the night sky has never looked more vast, nor more beautiful.

After a trip to the graveyard where you both had paid your respects to many, many people, a visit to the post office to send Millie the three pages you promised her, and a short trip elsewhere, you two were finally going home. 

Ricky’s sweater is comfy, if a little scratchy against your cheek. You move your head back and forth, trying to find a good position until you pull away and sweetly inform him that his shoulder is bony. He pinches your cheek just hard enough to sting in rebuttal.

Never a night like this, indeed.

“I heard they have meat for us today.” He slings his arm around you. “But you’ve had plenty of that in the past few years, haven’t you?”

“You’re such a teenage boy!” A laugh bubbles out from your chest. “Is that really the best you can do?”

“I could talk about how his missing inches probably haven’t transferred over—”

“Hey now, watch it, only I can make that joke.”

“Understood,” Ricky hums. “That being said, I want to ask you…”

“Hm?”

“I hope that he’s the reason you didn’t do anything stupid just now.”

Some people are brave, facing down titans and evil governments. Other people are braver, accusing you of being stupid of all things. With a jab in his arm, you say, “I kept to our deal, don’t you worry.” After a pause, you also confess, “I hope you did too.”

“I did, kid.” He takes your hand, waiting for the inevitable squeeze before inspecting the cuts that have turned into scars on your palm. You don’t necessarily need to mention that both your hands are alike in that manner. “You got this saving the commander.”

“Very good. Now how about this one?” You cheekily point to one just barely concealed by your collar. 

But it doesn’t look like Ricky’s in a quizzing mood. Instead, he traces his thumb over the scar, and even though there isn’t even any lingering pain anymore, you still feel the urge to wince. 

“He ordered you to watch over him, didn’t he? Captain Levi?”

Slipping your hand out of his and into the tight fit of your pocket, you toss out your best response to battle the concern in his question. “He’s given me a lot of orders. And—” You hold up a finger before he can interrupt. “The ones that have given me scars are not the ones I regret.”

Ricky looks at you a long while, but you’ve chosen your battles, including the one where you abandoned him—something he still doesn’t know about and something you hope you can take to your grave. There’s only so much repent you could show for something like that. Maybe he would forgive you, but you’ll never forgive yourself. And at the same time, you don’t know that you wouldn’t do it all over again if you were put back in that bloody battlefield. That’s where the real regret comes from.

“Had that cheesy-ass line ready to go, did you?” 

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes mirthfully. “I’m trying out an altruistic mindset.”

“Don’t try out things you can’t spell,” Ricky sings, then dodges your fist. 

The two of you bicker all the way back, until you reach the mess hall, where people are filing out, looking unnaturally well fed. Hange pats your shoulder, whispering in your ear about an inconspicuous-looking plate she saved on the corner of the table against the back wall. You’re not hungry, but you thank her anyway. Moblit shuffles past too, yawning. With her hand on his back, Hange looks at him tenderly. You hide your smile and let them walk away, together.

Ricky grabs his own plate to go and bids you goodnight, which is when you hear a soft kicking. You follow the source to Sasha, tied up with a gag in her mouth and wide eyes. 

Well, it’s not hard to see what happened here.

“They ate it in front of me!” she wails the second you kneel down and take the gag out of her mouth. “And left me here for the captain to find! I got—maybe two bites, Lieutenant.” Her eyes are shiny with almost genuine tears. “And I think one of those bites was Jean’s hand instead of the meat!”

“You think?” You make quick work untying her binds too, laughing. “Do I need to get him a bandage?”

Sasha rubs her wrists ruefully. “I’m sure all the meat he ate after was all the healing he needed. At least until he and Eren started beating each other up.” Your brows raise. “They’re fine. Not sure what it was about, but Captain Levi stopped them before either of them could pass out. He didn’t notice me on the floor,” she pouts, “even though I kicked my feet and everything.”

This time you hold back the laugh. You’ll hope that’s the case and not that he willingly left her there. “The table against the back wall should have a plate with some leftovers. Knock yourself out.”

Her eyes widen. Then she throws her arms around you, crying out excitedly. “You’re my favorite lieutenant ever! I’ll be in your service forever! I’ll follow you for the rest of my life! I’ll—”

“I’ll hold you to all of that.” You grin at her, nodding your head towards the table. “Go eat, Sasha, you’ll need your energy for tomorrow.”

She bounces away, a spring in her step that you hope she never loses. 

It’s a very real risk come morning, though.

You’re not nervous. You’re not cocky either. You’re concerned, of course, of such a high stakes mission, but with Eren’s newfound abilities and the way Hange has her death machine running day and night, you have a chance. Just a chance, one that everyone is ready to seize. This is the first official mission since the 57th, and even if your squad isn’t with you, they got you this far. Their sacrifice is the reason humanity even has the opportunity to take back Wall Maria.

And you’re going to do it hand in hand with Levi. There have been worse odds.

When you start walking, your legs navigate, roaming around until they lead you outside. Mikasa’s sitting on the steps, looking up at the sky. 

“Need some company?”

She doesn’t even flinch. Clever girl probably heard you coming. “I’m about to go inside, I think it may drizzle.” She peers up at where you’re standing, blinking softly. “You can have this spot if you’d like.”

“Nah, I’m looking for someone.”

“I haven’t seen him since he beat Eren and Jean up,” Mikasa says simply. Your lips quirk. If opposites attract, like forces certainly repel. 

You take a seat next to her despite what she said. “Anything on your mind?”

“Just the expedition tomorrow.” She looks at you tiredly. “It’s not too much to ask for a successful one for once, right?”

Blowing out of a puff of air, you shake your head. “No, it’s not too much to ask. But ask me tomorrow and I might have a different answer.”

“I won’t,” Mikasa decides, “I’ll only ask once everything is over.”

“That’s a good idea,” you murmur, lightly ruffling her hair. She—unconsciously, it seems—leans into your touch. “Come and find me after we have Wall Maria back and you’ve confirmed Eren and Armin are alright.”

Finally, she stands, nodding at you, a nonverbal promise. You stand too, now continuing down the steps. Her voice calls out after you.

“Aren’t you going to find the captain?”

“Oh, I know exactly where he is,” you say casually.

“Then,” she asks, confused, “why were you looking for him?”

All she sees is a shrug of your shoulders from behind. “You can know where someone is and still have to work to find them. I think you know that. Good night, Mikasa.”

You step behind the walls in front of the base, waiting for the soft footsteps to disappear, confirming she’s left. 

A second passes, and then Levi drawls, “It’s a wonder you didn’t study moral philosophy.”

“Too morally corrupt for it,” you respond brightly, offering your hand. “Are you gonna sleep out here all night?”

“Maybe.” His head tilts up, the moonlight gleaming in his eyes—beauty reflected in beauty. “Would you stay with me?”

Despite his words, he takes your hand and you tug him up. “Of course. Until it got chilly. Then I’d leave you for the wolves.”

He laughs, and you commit the sound to memory. Even though you feel the ground beneath your fight, the night sky makes it easy to forget that you’re standing anywhere else but a large expanse of night, an infinite void that you and he are safe in forever. Up here, you don’t need food or water or even oxygen, just his not so gentle gaze and callous palms. 

His hands find your hips and yours find his shoulders, thumbs skimming over his collarbone. 

“You’re very handsome,” you say quietly, smiling. “Have I ever told you that?”

Levi presses his lips to your cheek without kissing it. “You might have mentioned it. Why don’t you elaborate?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, sounds like an attempt to get me to keep talking. You know I have a lot to say about my favorite subject.”

He smiles too, you feel it on your skin, and you don’t know if you should thank or scold him for absolutely ruining your life.

It starts to rain all of a sudden, making the both of you look up. The space you’re in provides enough cover that neither of you get wet, but you frown regardless. 

“Oh man, I hope this doesn’t mess us up tomorrow. We have enough to worry about without adding muddy roads to the list.”

Expecting to hear an agreement, you turn back to him questioningly when you don’t get one. Levi’s looking at you in a sort of expectant way.

“It’s raining,” he tells you matter-of-factly.

“Yeah. So?”

You know he’s up to something when his lips twist in a sort of cruel way, but you still don’t expect it when he brings his palms up and shoves you back into the rain, drenching you all at once.

Your hands shoot up to provide a useless cover—water drips down your face and soaks your cheeks. It falls from your fingertips and absolutely soaks your favorite generic military uniform. For a second, an offended cry is on the tip of your tongue. Then, you realize that once upon a time, if anyone, even your best friend pushed you out into the rain, you’d have thanked them.

Then you realize your best friend did push you into the rain, and you don’t hate it all.

Levi has an impeccable smirk as he watches you. “Much more natural. Go on, do a spin.”

You’ll do him one better. Reaching forward, you grab his hand and yank him out as well, ignoring his yelp.

“Petty minx,” he bites, once you wrap your arms around his neck, cackling. “Ever heard of being the bigger person?”

“Nope!”

“You’re such a—”

“I can’t hear you!” you chirp gleefully. “What was that?”

In response, he takes your face in his hands, wiping away at every drop that falls even as more come. You’re sure that come tomorrow, he’ll continue on wondering in his pretty head why you are so ready to lay your life down for him. 

Reaching out, you run a hand through his wet locks, down to the back of his neck, certain that there is a way for him to get closer.

“I said,” Levi huffs a bit dramatically, “will you spend the night with me?”

“That didn’t sound like what you were saying.”

“Get your ears checked.” When you jokingly place a hand over each of his ears, he tilts his face forward with closed eyes and a pleased expression, letting you hold him in your hands. “Yes or no, Lieutenant?”

You let one of your hands fall from his face down to his fingers, raising them to press a soft kiss to the pad of his thumb. 

“How could I refuse, Captain?”

Levi intertwines his fingers with yours before you can let go, and the two of you make your way in the rain, with him guiding you back the long way back in. The water soothes your fears, until your heart beats in time with the pulse you can feel on his wrist. Like kids. you two run in the rain, laughing softly as though you’re in on one of the universe’s biggest inside jokes.

The shivers set in when you reach his bedroom, both of you immediately losing your orange jackets. Levi locates two towels and tosses one for you to wrap yourself in while he rummages through the little drawer he keeps to store your clothes in. 

In a surprisingly non-depressing way, you wonder as you watch him, what would happen if you died tomorrow. Would you die happy, fulfilled? Well, maybe not if a titan eats you—an obligatory shiver runs down your spine—but the method would be irrelevant when your life flashed before your eyes. And you know the memory that you would never be able to recall is telling Levi clearly, without any contesting whatsoever, that you love him.

It shouldn’t be a big deal. And it isn’t that big a deal, but it’s still never been said. For years, the matter has felt like you’ve been chasing Levi and he’s been sidestepping no matter how fast you go, no matter how long you reach your arm out. But now it’s different, because for a brief moment it switched, and Levi was the one chasing you, reaching out for you only for you to slip away. It feels like you’ve finally put each other through enough and can now stop running.

“Levi?” you probe, as he finds a shirt for you and stands. “I want to say it.”

It’s such a strange thing to ask consent for, but Levi meets your eyes. You tilt your head, not blinking, holding the towel tighter around yourself like it’ll guard your heart. 

“By it,” he says lowly, placing your shirt to the side, “I assume you mean what I’ve avoided saying so far.”

“We’ve both avoided it.”

“Because of me.”

Well, that’s not entirely untrue. “Yes.” You take a step closer to him. “That. Can I say it?”

“You can say whatever you want.” Levi takes a step too, eyes filled with hesitancy. “But…I’d like…to say it first.”

Swallowing, you nod. “Right. Um, go ahead.”

For a few seconds, you stare at each other helplessly. It shouldn’t be difficult, it’s certainly not difficult to think. But you understand, watching his fingers tremble slightly, exactly why it’s so difficult to say.

It’s dark inside, but the moonlight streaming in through the windows lets you read every single emotion on his face.

“You don’t have to.” You finally break the silence, deciding that it isn’t worth it. 

“Yes, I do.” Levi comes even closer, and your hand meets his before he can reach too far. “But I can’t. Every time I try, I just remember—I remember…”

Isabel. Farlan. Kenny, his mother, all the soldiers that have died so far. The ache of loving so deeply only to hurt worse. You squeeze his hands.

He really doesn’t have to. Just the fact that it pains him so much to try, because he so clearly wants to, is all the answer you need. Any more would be appreciated, but it’s not necessary.

“Promise me one thing, then.” You pause. “Three things, actually.”

Three rules, if he will. Very much like the beginning of your relationship.

“Tell me,” Levi says quietly, slowly undoing your wet hair and combing his fingers through it. 

“Don’t say it if we’re about to die, or in some heat of the battle moment.” Taking his free hand, you rest your cheek against it, shivering at the delightful chills that go down your back from his touch. As you murmur your request, you remember Lily. “If you say it, I want to be right here, in your room, on the bed, and I want you to kiss me after.”

“Such a bossy woman,” he breathes, his way of agreeing. “Deal.”

With nimble fingers, he starts to undo the buttons on your uniform. “The second thing is…about the injection.”

His fingers halt.

“Use your best judgment,” you say quickly, “but unless you absolutely have to and there’s no other choice, don’t…don’t use it on me.”

There’s silence behind you, so you turn to face him. Levi doesn’t look angry, but the tilt of his brow demands an explanation.

“I don’t want to be a titan.” You cross your arms over your chest, meeting the rough cloth of your bra. Your shirt, half unbuttoned, exposes you to the breeze that’s ever present in the base. “I know that it’s…not necessarily up to me, but—”

Levi gets down on his knees, interrupting you mid sentence. Perhaps it’s your upbringing, or perhaps it’s just who you are as a person, but his position doesn’t fill you with the disgust that he’d had when you kneeled down to him.

In all honesty, you think Levi looks absolutely divine on his knees. 

“I’m never going to turn you into something you don’t want to be.” He looks up at you, as if in worship. “It’s bad enough that I turned you into something I didn’t want you to be.”

It’s so wrong, to get a thrill out of him gazing upon you like this. To stare, transfixed, at your captain at your feet, not to assist you in any way, not for any practical reason, but to pledge his undying loyalty. It makes you feel guilty enough that you sink down next to him, in your rumpled clothing and pull him into your arms.

He holds you just as tightly as you hold him, and he has a strong grip, but you don’t feel suffocated for a second. 

“My bratty fucking duchess,” Levi mumbles fondly into your hair, “what’s your third rule?”

You’d almost forgotten it. Honestly, it was more of a joke, meant to lessen the seriousness of the first two. You might as well go three for three. 

“If something does happen to me tomorrow, you have to wait the customary three months.”

Levi pulls back with a confused frown and crossed brows. “Three months?”

“Mmhm.” You stand, pulling him up with you before taking the rest of your uniform off. As you change into the shirt he’s provided, you explain. “Usually I’d insist on four months, but I’m the nicest person in the world, so I’m giving you three.”

“Three months,” he says again, in a disbelieving tone.

“What, can’t rein it in that long?” Once your shirt is pulled over your head, you turn to him with a grin. “Fine, two months but only if you mourn especially hard. Visit my grave every day, leave roses. Only red ones”

“Shut up.”

There’s a slight puncture in his words. You stop for a second, observing him.

“I’m joking, you know, I don’t plan on dying tomorrow.”

Levi rolls his eyes, scoffing. “Do you think I’m not used to your shitty humor by now? I’m talking about this dumbass rule. Three months? Three months before I move on with someone else?”

“Two months if you—”

“You know damn well that even after two lifetimes I wouldn’t be able to move on.” His eyes bear into yours. “And if you don’t, then I’m telling you now. Three months, three years, three centuries. I don’t care. You’re it. There’s no one else.”

Your throat feels slightly dry. “Well, that’s a bit rash.”

“If I die tomorrow, will you move on after three months?”

“No,” you say immediately, not surprised at all by the jerk reaction, “but it’s different. You’re…you. I’m me. There’s a lot of people like me out there.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I mean it! There’s plenty of girls who—”

Levi’s hand grips your cheeks, smushing them together and effectively shutting you up. “Three lifetimes,” he tells you firmly, in his captain voice, like it’s an order. “Three lifetimes, and then I’ll come find you, and you’ll annoy me into caring for you all over again. Understood?”

Sure, you get it, it’s just your heart jumped so suddenly in your chest that you’re powerless to do anything but nod. An unsteady, furious beat plays within, a love that you are afraid of. A storm that blows you away, takes the gift of breath straight from your lips and throws you around, only to shove you unceremoniously back into his arms again.

Wordlessly, you start unbuttoning his shirt, sure that he’ll get sick if he stays in these wet garments any longer. All the while, you feel his eyes on you, as though he’s still silently peeved that you offered him three months to get over you. 

It hits you then that you’d really rather not wait three lifetimes for a future where titans hopefully won’t exist. You’d rather grow old with him in this life, then the next, then the next. Irritate and adore him for all eternity.

Never have you wanted to live more than this.

Keeping his top half bare, Levi puts on a pair of expensive-looking cotton pajamas, a gift from you that he’d reluctantly gotten very comfortable in. You admire his back for a second, letting your eyes roam over the only person who you could see naked a million times and still be unbearably smitten by.

You step up behind him, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in the hair at the nape of his neck. Levi gasps, both from how cold your hands are and because of how sensitive his nape is, but his hands curl around yours automatically, keeping them pressed against his stomach. The sound he makes sends the brewing hurricane in your chest raging even harder. You could stand here forever, in this hurricane, as long as you were in the center with him.

“Ah,” he whines, when you press your lips to the sensitive spot on the back of his neck, “s-stop, or we won’t make it to the bed.”

“That sounds good to me,” you whisper into his ear, “who says I want to sleep?”

“Me,” and that’s all the warning he gives you before he heaves you up in his arms bridal style and tosses you onto the sheets. Before you can even spout your first insult, he’s on top of you, pushing your hair to the side and staring down smugly at his work of art. 

One quick rude gesture, and then you lock his legs between yours, flipping him over so he’s the one splayed out on the pillow instead of you. 

Levi looks impressed despite himself, as he flicks your forehead in retribution. You pretend to reel back in pain, falling in bed besides him. He’s warm enough for you, but he drapes the thin blanket over the two of you regardless. 

“That’s one-zero for me,” you say happily, moving in closer to share his pillow. “(L/N) wins again.”

“If that’s what you want to believe,” he responds, perfectly stoic and condescending at the same time. It makes you giggle childishly, diverting your attention to drawing intricate patterns on his chest with your finger. “You’re wide awake, aren’t you?”

“Too much on my mind.” You draw a daisy, then color it in.

“Not tomorrow’s mission.” He knows when you’re anxious, and this isn’t that.

“No, actually.” Levi’s hand slides under your shirt, resting on your waist. “I was just thinking about what you said earlier.”

His nose scrunches, and you bite back a laugh. Maybe being all romantic causes him to have amnesia, or maybe he’s been so sweet on you tonight that he doesn’t remember which thing you’re talking about. Pushing down the urge to kiss his nose, you rest your head against his chest, a tad nervous to look him in the eye when talking about this.

“Say I don’t die tomorrow. Say you don’t die tomorrow either.” Such high standards you hold each other to. “Say we both live, and then stay alive. Then what?”

Levi doesn’t let you avert your gaze. He runs his thumb over your lashes, then tilts your chin up. “If we both live? We’ll fight another day, obviously.”

“No, I mean, say we get to that cellar tomorrow. And there’s a note that tells us exactly how to get rid of all titans forever.”

“Erwin says the next step is to eliminate threats—”

“The note tells us how to do that too.” No one can accuse you for not trying your best here. It’s hard to make a soldier used to war imagine anything else. “In fact, there’s a magic wand that solves all of our titan problems. We wave it and then we’re done. Then what?”

He laughs quietly, a soft exhale on your cheek. “Are you thinking of retirement? Bit young for that, aren’t you?”

“I’m old enough mentally to make up for my lack of years.” You stick your tongue out, making him snort.

“Oh yeah, you’re real mature. Surprised they haven’t given you your benefits already.”

“An oversight.” You want to kiss him, not just on the lips, but everywhere else, but you restrain yourself for what feels like the thousandth time just this week. “So? If we manage to defeat all titans and other enemies tomorrow, what future do you see for us?”

For us. It slips out before you can really think about it. But what else could you possibly say? You couldn’t imagine a life without him, titans or no titans. What would be the point of finishing this war if you couldn’t wake up in Levi’s arms every morning? What need did you have for anyone else when he was the only person you saw when you closed your eyes?

This is strictly forbidden territory when it comes to conversation. Imagining any kind of future has always been a dangerous venture no matter what. But you think it’s also dangerous for you not to ask. If there’s never going to be a night like this again, then you’ll never know what kind of fate you’re supposed to imagine for the day after tomorrow. 

Because maybe the war will end tomorrow. Life won’t stop afterwards, you think, it’ll go on and you’ll create a place in it with your captain if it’s the last thing you do.

Now if only you can convince Levi to indulge you—

“We’ll have a tea shop,” he starts. You meet his eyes in surprise, but all he does is tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear and continue. “The two of us. It’ll be on the corner of a busy street, with a sign that’s not too big, but we’ll paint it in bright colors so people always have to look. It probably won’t be the only tea shop on the block, but it’ll be the best one. We’ll have small tables and chairs set up, and white tiles on the floor that we’ll have to mop down every morning and every evening. You’re not even going to think of touching the tea we make for people, but we’ll serve other things too. Coffee and cakes and plain milk too, even if I have to stop you from drinking our entire supply yourself. I’ll make the drinks and you can serve tables, so people always have a pretty smile with their order.”

Earlier, you’d felt dizzy with the emotions he’d provoked in you. Now, you only feel like crying. 

He’s thought about this. He’s imagined a future with you.

Levi’s thumb runs across your lower lip. “Those brats will probably always be coming in to bother us, so you can assign shifts for them to help out. I suppose we’ll pay them for their efforts too. Somehow we’ll have to keep Sasha out of the kitchens and Armin inside so he can supervise. Hange’s not allowed inside anywhere. Your annoying blonde friend can only come where you’re here and it’ll most likely be the opposite for Erwin.” Then, as though he’s thought of something else, the corners of his lips turn up. “You’ll probably give me shit for talking to people, you’re the most jealous woman I know.”

Swallowing down the urge to take his hand and run away, you huff out shakily, “You know other women?”

A snort, and then he asks, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, that’s the future I see.” The thumb tracing over your lips strokes up your cheek, brushing your lashes, like he’s trying to find constellations in your skin. “What future do you see? What do you want to do if this war ends?”

You only think for a few seconds before responding. “Truthfully, I think I’d remain a soldier. There’s always a need for someone to perform their civic duties, right?”

His gaze is downright adoring. “So you’d like to keep helping people?”

You groan. “Don’t say it like that, you make me sound lame.”

“My darling,” Levi says with a fond smile, touching the tip of your nose, “you are lame.”

Yeah, you kind of are. It’s the truth, though. Despite the absolute horror of not being able to save someone, whether comrade or civilian, the relief when you do manage to save someone, or the pleasure of being able to make people relax, make them smile—that feeling is all-numbing, something that says the pain is worth it. And in a world without titans, maybe there would be less of the painful moments anyway. You don’t know, but Maria knows you want to find out.

“But that cuts into what you said, doesn’t it?” You’re musing now, quickly becoming addicted to the idea of a future, as unlikely as it is. “If I’m out soldiering”—Levi snorts, a huff of breath on your skin—”then I won’t be able to help with this marvelous tea shop. Or maybe I’ll work weekend shifts,” you tease, eyes shining, “but I expect a full salary.”

“You don’t have to work at all if you don’t want to. At the tea shop, that is.” You think he’s joking at first, but the thoughtful expression on his face gives you pause. “If you really are busy, you can work wherever you please and just visit. Or we won’t have a tea shop, and we’ll figure something else out.”

Levi shrugs, then, as though he didn’t just suggest discarding a dream he’s clearly fantasized about for a long, long time.

“We won’t have a tea shop?” you repeat. “What, just because it wouldn’t fit my schedule?”

“Mmhm.”

The same part of your heart that cracks at how easily he gives it up thrums in giddiness that he would give it up for you, though you’d jump out of a window before you let him do anything of the sort.

“So what? If I wanted to give up everything to live at the top of the highest mountain, would you?”

Levi looks at you, blinking, not a sliver of insincerity in his eyes. “I would.”

“If I wanted to spend the rest of my life traveling the world?”

“I would ask you which direction to go first.”

“If I wanted to touch the sky?”

“I’d help you bring back the moon.”

“If I…” Your voice cracks. “If I wanted to marry you?”

For some reason, there’s a pause after that one. For some reason, stealing the moon is not as heavy as the idea of you and Levi being husband and wife.

Levi brushes away the stray hairs on your face, cupping your cheeks in both his hands. “Do you want to marry me?”

Do you? Is this a proposal? 

No, it’s just a question, which means you can answer freely and honestly.

“I want to do everything with you.” Even things you thought you’d never want to do ever. “Marriage is just a thing, like all the rest.”

There’s so much more you want to say. You want to tell him how you would leap headfirst into a burning building for him, make a fool of yourself and cross the world twice just to see him smile. How he’s the man who gave you purpose, a gift you could never give him proper compensation for.

“Then yes.” Even though you’re in his bed, in a dark bedroom with only the moonlight illuminating you and him, it feels like you’ve just proposed in a field of flowers. “Yes, I would marry you.”

I would die for you, his eyes say, I would die for you, I would kill for you. Your dreams and wishes are my dreams and wishes. I am yours.

And you, the wild child, would tame yourself for him.

You, the loyal soldier, would desert for him. 

You, too, would destroy yourself for him, in a world that allowed you to.

And now, the only thought remaining in your lovestruck head is—why wait?

“Okay.” Rolling on top of you, you straddle his waist. Levi’s hands rise to rest on your hips. “Let’s get married tonight.”

His brow quirks, and you know he’s amused. The look he gives you makes you nostalgic, one filled with a combination of amusement and exasperation. “I know I just said I would try to do anything for you,” he says, “but that’s a bit of a tall order.”

“No it’s not. See?” You lean down and push his hair back from his forehead, smoothing your hands over it to make for a presentable hairstyle. As presentable as it can be while he’s splayed out under you in his bed, that is. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”

You can tell he’s trying to hold back a smile. Even though this is clearly ridiculous, your heart hammers in your chest regardless, almost the same as it would if you really were in a dress and he were in a suit, standing in front of each other. 

“What’s after that?”

“Dunno, I was waiting for you to continue it.”

“You’re the one who loves weddings.”

A pout forms on your features. “It’s been a long time since I’ve actually gone to one, Levi.”

He blows a cherry on your cheek, one hand sliding to the rest on the back of your neck. You doubt that Levi has been to many weddings, or any at all, but there is nothing but confidence in his voice when he speaks. “Marriage is the union of two souls, in body, mind and most importantly, legality.”

Your own laugh catches you off guard. Levi’s so fucking funny when he wants to be, you’d forgotten.

“Since this is a very legal union, we have elected not to use any rings.” Now you’ve switched to a very serious face—it’s tough business playing both the officiator and the bride at once. “Instead, we will skip straight to the vows. You first.”

“Why do I have to go first?”

“The groom always goes first.”

“Bullshit.”

“Fine.” You grin, glad he caught your fib. “You have to go first because mine is going to be better.”

Cruelly, his fingers dig into your waist, making you squirm, giggling. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

“Oh, darling,” you coo, resting your forehead against his, “you may be feeling very romantic tonight, but you forget I’m the one with the silver tongue.”

This presents itself to him like a challenge; somehow, it feels so natural to push each other’s buttons even when saying your vows. If you didn’t have him to try and compete with, would anyone even try to provoke you the way you want to be provoked? The only competition that gets the blood in your veins pumping is responsible for keeping your heart pounding as well.

“(F/N),” Levi begins, “You’re a pain in the ass, minx, do you know that? You always have been. Tell me, what kind of person smiles at the instructor on their first day of indoctrination?” The kind that was unknowingly and immediately attracted to him, you want to say, but you keep your mouth shut—these invaluable seconds belong to his words alone. “Not a single day has gone by since then that you haven’t surprised me. I’m always figuring out a puzzle with you. It never finishes, it just gets bigger and bigger. Back then, I didn’t understand what someone so charming, someone who could have anyone on their knees with a snap of her fingers, was doing at the military. It took me a long time to figure it out. I had to figure this out first.” Taking your hand, he places it over your own chest, then his. “You had to steal it for me to see properly. It took time, so much time. I’m glad it did, though.” Brushing your hair out of the way, Levi whispers in your ear intimately, as though someone may overhear this verbalization of his devotion that is only meant for you. “I’m so glad it took this long, because I got to unravel the girl behind the smile, even if it took years. Even if I’m still only halfway done. Maybe less than that.”

You can’t even try to understand how he could think any part of you was a mystery to him, when he’s the only one who knows every single bit that makes you up. Physically, mentally, emotionally, even spiritually, there is not a single thought or action that you partake in that does not have Levi’s familiarity. 

“Do you know what I found?” your captain murmurs, still speaking sweetly into your ear. “After unraveling tons of wrapping, after putting some of the puzzle pieces together, I found a girl that was charming, yes, but only after she was everything else first. First she was kind, then she was brave, then she was funny, loud, obnoxious, clever and beautiful—and it just kept going, like the dolls they sell in the market. Except she couldn’t be a doll, not when she was so lively.” There is a pause as Levi looks at you, eyes tender and familiar. “Everyone knows when you walk into a room. Everyone knows when you leave. I know more than that. The good deeds you try so desperately hard to hide, the fears under the jokes. I know all that, and somehow I still don’t know everything. So let me promise you this, (F/N) (L/N).” Your name is a swear on his lips. “I’ll find out more. I will find out more and more, until I know everything. I have met so many people that I would die for, but you are the only one…the only one, (F/N), who I’ve wanted to live for too.”

You’re furious.

Not only did he not promise to love you in sickness and in health, but he ensured that you would never find such basic vows romantic or relevant ever again. Already, you have to scramble, race against the clock to find some way, somehow, to top that. While at the same time calming your rapidly beating heart, which started soaring away about halfway through his speech.

Levi holds you so incredibly close, like you might vanish. In this moment, you swear you and he could change the world.

“Well.” You take a deep breath. “I’m not glad it took so long. I wish we had met before, maybe as children. You’re talking about all these different parts of me that you discovered, but the thing is…I think you created them. Bravery, and kindness, who do you think I learned all that from?” Greedily, you glide your fingertips over his forehead, his cheeks, and his lips. Mine. “Maybe if we’d met earlier, you could have changed me sooner, and I would have gotten to”—Love you so very dearly, Captain—”adore you all the more. I…I always thought I would fall eventually. Or, more accurately, I thought I’d get sick of resisting it, and whoever the next man I decided to flirt with would become my husband. Either that, or I’d die alone, and pretty happily at that.” 

His eyes are wide in attention, as though he’s being told a compelling story. To your credit, you’re an excellent storyteller, and he is hearing the story of how you came to be in love with him. Quite a charming story, really—it's pretty cute how you fell for your superior.

“And then…you. Brash, brutish, beautiful you. Took me under your wing without a second thought, when all I wanted was to humiliate you.” Just the thought makes you chuckle breathily, admiring his fond eyes in the moonlight. “I was such a brat. And you…you were so mean, but you had me hooked. I did everything I could to impress you, to make you smile, to make you laugh. It meant the world to me, way more than getting in the top ten or impressing my instructor.” The more you speak, the more it seems like the cold morning is barreling towards you, faster and faster, eager to finish this night for good. Even if you have nightmares tonight, it will still be better than when you have to wake and leave Levi’s embrace. “When I kissed you…Maria, Lev.” Your eyes shut, trying to bring the memory to the front of your mind. “Everything I thought I knew turned on its head. I knew nothing except you. I was pathetic.”

At that, Levi finally makes to say something, but you press a finger to his lips. “I’m not finished. I don’t think anything has changed in that regard. You’re still what I think of before making any decisions, morning and night. You’re at the center of who I am, you’re…”

For some unknown reason, you’re struggling to finish.

“You are everything, Levi Ackerman.” By Rose, you love getting to use his full name. You wish you could have thanked his uncle yourself. “You will always, always, be everything to me.”

A minute passes then; you count the seconds in your head. For sixty seconds, Levi stares at what must be the most precious thing in the world, from the stars in his gaze. There is nothing forced or insincere in the way he looks at you, how…how okay he is with everything you’ve said. And you know that even though it would be so freeing to say it, you don’t need to. You know, you’ve always known, and you’ve never hidden it either. Levi will never doubt that you love him.

Despite your three month rule, you hope that in every lifetime, your name is carved into his heart forever.

Eternity passes before Levi continues quietly, “I now declare you husband and wife.”

You don’t even bother telling him that it’s pronounce, not declare.

You’re tired of waiting.

Mouth dry, you conclude. “You may now kiss the—”

Levi is more tired than you are, because he doesn’t wait for you to finish before lifting his head up and kissing you square on the mouth.

Any worries that you may have forgotten how to kiss during all these deprived months are quickly erased. Your mouth moves against his, and your hands find home on his face, returning his passion with an urgency even a battlefield couldn’t bring out of you. This is bliss. This is living with no regrets. No experience, no feeling, could ever compare.

“Don’t ever,” Levi groans, biting down on your plush lower lip, “not kiss me for six fucking months again.”

“Wasn’t my fault,” you argue weakly, but you hardly know what you’re saying, too lost in how warm his lips are, and how cruel it is that you haven’t gotten to kiss him every day since you’ve met him.

“Was too,” he borderline whines, “brat.”

“Jerk.”

“Minx.”

“Insomniac.”

“Oaf.”

“Asshole.”

“Dunce.” Levi kisses you even deeper, cupping your cheeks and pulling you closer. If your lips aren’t bruised by morning, you’ll be sorely disappointed.

The two of you paw at each other like inexperienced teenagers, almost like—like a newly married couple on their first night, you think with a soft whimper against his mouth.

“Shit,” he whispers, already detaching from your lips to press an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw. “Lay back, let me get on top.”

Without verbalizing it, you know he’s just had the same thought you did. Nothing else could have caused such a desperate craving in his expression. You feel it too, the need to see him come undone by your own efforts—captain, lover, husband, unofficial though the title may be.

“Not just yet.” You place a hand on his chest, not forceful but firm. “Let me do this first.”

Levi groans impatiently, but you know it’s hard for him to protest with your lips and teeth on his neck and your hands on his skin, basking in his shirtless glory. Your movements are quick, but careful—a work of art should be treated like one.

The scar on his shoulder is from a mishap of his own, a misplacement of his sword while he was slicing open a titan. The one right above where his heart is, a very old one, from when he was a child without any memory of what caused it. Above his ribcage is where he hurt himself during his first expedition, after Isabel and Farlan died. And that one, and that one, and that one…

How very stunning they all are.

Something is pressing into your thigh, and you quirk a brow up at him, as if to say this easily? In response, Levi jerks his hips up, eliciting a sharp gasp from you when his bulge rubs up right against your still clothed core.

It’s not like you’re doing any better. Months and months of not being touched, not even by yourself, has you squirming from nothing but slight contact and his stormy eyes on you.

The bed is hot, or maybe it’s just your skin, warming up from the way Levi is placing his palms against your neck, down your arms, at your waist. The narcissist in you knows that he must have quite a view above him. The squealing schoolgirl with a crush in you has butterflies swirling everywhere in her stomach.

“Minx,” Levi breathes lowly, sending another hot spark down. “How long do you plan to tease me?”

“Darling, I’ve barely teased you.” Dragging your tongue over the v-shaped line leading down to his pants, you place a hand over the bulge, squeezing gently. He jolts under your touch, mouth falling open in a pant.

“I count the six months.” His fingers weave through your hair, while his other hand strokes your cheek. You smile cheekily, placing a kiss to his palm before pulling his trousers and undergarments down. The sight that greets you is mouth watering. 

You peer up at him, wetting your bottom lip as you take him in your hand. Levi’s head falls back this time, a ragged moan escaping his throat. He’s already hot and heavy in your hand, but you can’t help stroking, familiarizing yourself again—the way he trembles, sensitive, helpless to your touch, makes the six months almost worth it.

Flicking your tongue out, you catch the bead of precum on his cock. A strangled sound tears through him, one that turns into a cry when you open your mouth and suck on the head.

Your eyes close in concentration, and you slowly take more with ease. The pressure feels right on your tongue, to the point where it doesn’t feel like something you’re doing to please him but rather because it makes you feel good.

Resting on your forearms, you wrap your hands around any part of his cock that you haven’t gotten wet yet, pulling back with a pop. In a raspy voice, you say, “Be greedy, Levi. I’ll get upset if you don’t.” When he doesn’t respond—his naked chest is flush, heaving—you slide your tongue in a circle around the vein on the side of his cock. 

Levi whines, a slurred rendition of your name. “E-Everything I need is here,” he manages to hiss, “Everything I—ha—want, is in this bed with me.”

You take him all the way down, until you can feel him touch the back of your throat. Levi sings for you then, a symphony of sounds that all beg for you one way or another, more vocal than you’ve ever seen him. You mourn that you can’t be privy to every filthy thought running through his head. No touch, no word, no thought of his should exist without you getting to consume it all.

If he won’t be greedy, then you’ll just have to pick up the slack.

There’s nothing he can grip onto—your hair, the bedsheets, anything—to escape your wanting mouth. You push his hips down when he tries to push up, trying to assure him that he doesn’t even need to ask, you’re more than willing to give it on your own.

It doesn’t take long for him to come, weak jerks against your mouth accompanied only by the breaks in his voice. Levi is out of breath by the time you finish, swallowing and pressing a last kiss to his still warm skin. With tired hands, he beckons you back up to him.

“Still got it?” you ask, eyes shining.

“Never lost it,” he responds, kissing your cheek before molding your lips against his again. You run a hand through his sweaty hair, reciprocating with equal vigor as his leg slots in between yours.

Levi keeps a hand on the back of your head, locking you in the kiss even after he starts to rub his leg back and forth. He kisses you through your whines, demanding that you keep your attention on him even as he himself drives you crazy. 

Even when he does finally pull back, and you both gasp for air, he pleads, “Take your clothes off for me.”

Sitting up, bruised lips and all, you toss your shirt over your head. “Now who else would I take them off for?”

“No one,” Levi growls, as though the question wasn’t rhetorical. He doesn’t give you the chance to tease or to pull anything other than your shirt off, pulling you down to attack your neck, clearly intent on giving you bruises to match your lips. “Are you wet?”

“What a vulgar question.” You laugh breathlessly. “Why don’t you find out?”

And he takes that challenge to heart. Kissing you once more, he slides his hand right into your pajamas, moving your panties to the side. With two fingers running down your slit experimentally, he groans at the very quick confirmation that you’re soaking. Levi lathers his fingers in your slick, watching you rock into his touch with an open mouth.

It’s easy for him to slip his fingers out and into your mouth, watching like a man possessed as you taste yourself on him. “Beautiful,” he murmurs in awe. You only flush a little.

“Thank you.” You kiss him right on the bridge of his nose. “You want me on my back now?” Levi’s brows furrow in thought, and he seems far more interested in your breasts than in answering your question. Taking one in his hand, he traces a finger around your nipple. “O-or should I sit on your fa-aace!” Your abrupt moan is captured by his lips as he tugs on your nipple, as you struggle to keep yourself from collapsing on top of him. 

Both his hands are on your chest now, while his tongue pushes into your mouth. Your eyes flutter close, wondering if it’s possible to orgasm just from this. The coarse texture of his hands never fails to set your skin ablaze, half reminding you that this is Levi, Captain Levi, Humanity’s Strongest Soldier and slayer of titans who has his hands all over you. 

“I don’t need you on your back to make you come.” His voice is hot, and one of his hands trail down to pull your pajamas down, gliding over the curve of your ass. “Sit up a bit.”

About two seconds after you listen, he has your nipple in his mouth, teeth clamping down and sending a painful pleasure down your body. “Le-vi, ah—”

“You’re as whiny as ever.” Soothingly licking over your areola, he starts to rub his thumb over your clit. “Haven’t I taught your patience yet, sweetheart?”

Your eyes roll back, unable to respond, unable to do anything else. Anything but sweetheart. He knows damn well what your weaknesses are. 

One of his fingers teases your entrance for a few seconds before pushing in, and right away you know you’re not going to last. Not after so long. There is no one in the world who could fill you up like this from just a finger.

“There’s so much I could do to you,” Levi whispers. Another finger joins the first, as his thumb rubs circles on your bundle of nerves. “If we had time, I would have you stay in bed with me the whole day. And I could make you come again…” The two fingers in you pump in and out, as he sinks his teeth into your neck. “And again…” A violent fantasy blooms in your head—spending your day off with your husband, pushing each others’ limits to the breaking point, until neither of you could bear to move. Not caring about doing what was good, what was expected, but simply the most base, selfish desires that you and he could think of. If only, if only, if only—

“Come,” he requests sweetly.  

You do, nearly tearing up from the reverent way he breathes, inhaled through his mouth and exhaled into your soul. You get stuck on a wail of his name, the usual worry that someone might hear you nonexistent because everyone knows now, those who might care and those who don’t. He let everyone know. 

Levi swallows your heavy breaths with his mouth, urging your mouth open and your body to go lax against him. He’s clearly satisfied that he did in fact get you to come without turning you over, because now that he has nothing to prove, he gently guides you to lay back against the thin sheets.

Breaking away from your lips, he trails sloppy kisses down your neck and shoulder, heating you up even as you cool down. 

“Levi?”

“It’s our wedding night,” he explains, a gleam in his eyes, “surely you don’t expect I’ll be satisfied making you come just once?”

“God,” you praise, letting your head fall back as he tosses your legs over his shoulders. “We…have a mission tomorrow, you know?”

“Tell me to stop, then.”

“Shan’t,” you slur, feeling his warm breath on your pussy.

Levi dives in with your express permission, a deprived man. All you can perceive is his wet, skilled tongue, lapping up your wetness like it’s the last thing he’ll ever get to drink. His eyes are shut in elation, and his hair tickles your stomach as he suffocates himself, your thighs squeezing around him without any form of control from you.

Tears line your lashes. Your captain has given up his precious stoic facade time and again for you, blessing you with this sight. Nails digging into your thighs, leaving scratches that sting better than any sword, squelching sounds from how wet you are and how well he’s eating you out, and, when he finally opens his eyes, they’re blown out and hungry, and they’re telling you exactly who his meal is.

Your back arches, your hand digs into his hair and holds him in place as your hips buck wildly against his mouth. “Lev…Levi!”

The second orgasm is even better than the first, and Levi doesn’t give you a break during it either, softly suckling on your clit as you wheeze and pant sharply. It works exactly as planned, and you squirm to get away from the overbearing pleasure turned pain. 

With a gentle touch, now, he runs his hands over your thighs, kissing over a spreading soreness. It should help you come down from this high, but the care only tugs at your heart, confirming that if he wanted to spend the time from now until the end of the world between your legs, you would keep them wide open to keep him there.

Eyes open or closed, hands exploring or stagnant, mouth shut or spouting poetry. You’re not whole if Levi isn’t there with you.

Slowly, he kisses his way back up, humming when you capture his mouth first, one arm around his neck and legs weakly wrapped around his waist. He’s hard again, you can feel it, and if you just…rock up a bit, he might slip inside you with little effort.

Levi moans, void of self control, and pulls back to stroke your hair back. “Do you actually have another one in you? I’m not trying to ruin you here.” Although I could, is the unspoken message. And you’d let him.

“What happened to you knowing my limits?” He kisses the pout off your face. “I need you, Captain. Take me.”

Without any more protests, he buries his face in your neck and guides himself in, inch by inch, until he’s all the way inside you, and you praise every god and every wall that you have ever known. Yes, yes, yes. You’re his. He’s yours. There will never be anyone or anything that can contest it now.

“That’s it.” Your voice is choked up, having never felt so perfectly right in your life. “Come on, Lev, fuck your wife.”

You’re rewarded with a sharp thrust, making you mewl as you drag your nails along his back. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he groans, as your legs press him further into you, “I-If I think too hard about this—about you, I won’t last. It’s not enough, it’s never enough with you—”

He cuts himself off, hissing your name when you clench around him. His every single word is your own thoughts expressed—it really never will be enough. In the unlikely chance you get to spend a lifetime with him, you will still want more. No matter how many times he makes you come, you will always want more, to return the favor until both of you can’t take it anymore. And if he tells you he loves you, you will repeat it, again and again, until the last bit of life finally leaves you.

Levi can’t seem to bring himself to be slow, which you’re endlessly grateful for. He pounds into you, leaving you empty and then filled repeatedly. One hand finds yours and your fingers intertwine by your head. 

“Don’t stop.” I love you. “Please, never stop, Levi.” I love you so much. 

“Tell me you’ll wait.” A breathy demand leaves him, his eyes staring straight into yours, trapping you. “Tell me that even if it’s a different lifetime, you’ll wait for me to find you.”

Always, always, always.

“I won’t.” You pull him down and crash your lips on his. You taste him, tea leaves and honey and something that is distinctly, uniquely him. “I’ll find you first.”

You know that he’s close. He’d warned you that he wouldn’t last, as though you couldn’t already tell by how disheveled he looks, frenzied gaze and wild hair. Usually, he waits for you to finish first, but you doubt he’ll make it this time. You don’t mind, you’ll give anything, everything…

“Inside,” you beg, when he tries to pull out, “please, come inside me.”

“Goddammit.” His hand trembles, but you hold him steady, not letting go. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Please. Please.”

At your behest, he listens. Your name tears from him in a cry, and you feel him come undone, painting your walls unabashedly for the first time, and it leads you to your own release. He doesn’t swear, doesn’t even whine like you do at the foreign feeling, just repeats your name over and over like a mantra, like a prayer.

Large hands cup your face and he gives you one last kiss, breathing air into your lungs. Your hands fall limp to your sides, but you reciprocate the best you can, sucking on his lower lip sweetly, exhausted but not nearly done expressing how much you adored him, a mission that would end only when you did.

Ever so softly, Levi returns to his original position on his back, and he tugs you on top of him. You fall on top of him, a sticky, sweaty mess, and you rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

Never again a night like this.

Closing your eyes, you lie there against his chest, a woman loved. “Tell me one more time,” you plead, “just once more.”

Levi sighs softly. “We’ll have a tea shop…”

#attack on titan #aot x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #satc #superior #valkyrie stories

[enid-rhees]

matching tattoos || elisia brown x fem!reader

summary: you don’t want the night to end after your amazing date with Elisia. Elisia comes up with an idea.

genre: fluff !! just pure fluff 🫶🏻 also pure cheesiness

a/n: this is such an old request that i have been dying to get to, so im finally doing it :] i have 1 tattoo and ive been dying to get another. requested by @elisiassideb1tch 💙 i hope u enjoy 🫶🏻 the Elisia icon is also made by her 🫶🏻

tonight might’ve been one of the best nights of your life. you haven’t had this much fun in a while, and you knew it was because you spent it with the love of your life.

Elisia looked so beautiful tonight. you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that she was yours. the two of you had just finished your date, you took her out to a restaurant. for a while now, you’ve been saving up money for this moment.

you’ve always wanted to take her out like this, to a restaurant where she can dress up and have the best food. and afterwards, the two of you wander the streets and laugh with each other, ignoring the people that look at you funny as they passed by. they didn’t have what you had.

you took Elisia’s hand in the air and spun her around, when she came back around to face you, she fell into your chest and your lips connected with ease. she rested her hand on your chest, and then slowly brought it up to your neck as the kiss continued.

the night still felt young, you didn’t want to go home yet. you wanted to be out here with Elisia. despite it already being late enough, the sky was dark and cars weren’t littering the streets, you wanted to be out here with her.

“lets find something to do.” you mumbled against her lips. “anything.” Elisia pulled her face away from you, the most beautiful smile growing on her lips. “i have an idea.”

Elisia intertwined her fingers with yours and began to pull you down the sidewalk. you didn’t know where she was taking you, but it only excited you more. you couldn’t help but take out your phone and snap the cheesy picture of Elisia holding your hand in front of you. the pictures from your date sat next to it, one of Elisia looking heavenly across from you at the table, and the other of her kissing your lips behind a menu.

Elisia stopped on the sidewalk and looked up at the building in front of you. you did the same, mouth dropping when you saw the “tattoo shop” on the sign. “you want to get tattoos?” you asked her, almost in disbelief. although, you weren’t really that surprised, Elisia has always talked about getting a tattoo one day.

she rose her finger, “matching tattoos.” she said, her smile growing. “you want to?” you asked. “if you want to.”

you didn’t say another word and you opened the door to the shop and let her walk in first. a man with tattoo sleeves up his arms and legs waved at the two of you, and you guys waved back.

“what can i do for you guys today? my name is Mike. you guys are in here pretty late, usually no one comes in this late.” Mike said, and you spoke up first. “uh, we are looking to get… matching tattoos. preferably small ones on our wrists or finger.” you looked over at Elisia for confirmation, and she nodded.

“matching, eh? you guys married or what?” Mike joked with you, and you laughed lightly. “no no… hopefully one day, though.” Elisia nudged your shoulder and you looked at her with a smile. “what? i’m being serious.”

Mike then pulled out a binder filled with various sketches of tattoos. “these are our ten dollar tattoos, the cheapest you can get. feel free to look through this and let me know when you decide.”

the two of you started to flip through the pages, and then Elisa pointed at one particular heart. “what if we got these right here?” she pulled up your hand and pointed to your finger. the finger she pointed to was the one where you two had - conveniently - matching rings. the rings were a gift from her, she called them promise rings.

“yeah, let’s do it.” you smiled, pressing one quick kiss to her lips. Elisia looked into your eyes with so much love, you’ve never been so sure of wanting to marry someone.

you raised your hand to get Mike’s attention, and he came back to the counter. “have you guys decided?” you both nodded and pointed to the heart, “we’d like to get this heart on our finger.”

“perfect. you guys can have a seat together over there. luckily these are small, so i’ll be able to knock these out in under an hour.” you took Elisia’s hand and walked over to the chair he pointed to.

“i can’t believe we’re doing this.” Elisia whispered. “you nervous?” she shrugged, “a little.” you pressed a kiss to her head. “it’s okay. we got this.”

Mike sat in front of you guys with a clean needle and sketches of the heart. he reached for your hand and wiped your finger down with a wipe and did the same to Elisia. “so, just to let you know, these might hurt a bit. i’m putting the needle directly on the bone basically, so it’s going to hurt.”

Elisia intertwined your other hand with hers. Mike placed the stencil of the heart on your fingers and picked up the needle after it appeared on your skin. he dipped the needle into the ink and began on your finger first.

the first initial touch made you flinch, and Elisia gripped your hand tighter. Mike took a paper towel and wiped off the ink, and then began again. Elisia pulled out her phone and rose it as she opened the camera app. you smiled up at her phone and she took the picture, smiling at it once she put her phone back down. “you’re so cute.”

before you knew it, Mike had finished with your tattoo. he gently wrapped it plastic, “you can take that off about an hour after you get home. if you have any cream like Aquaphor, use it throughout the day for about a week or so. if you have any problems, you can come right back.”

you nodded, and then Mike began to work on Elisia’s finger. she flinched at the first touch, but relaxed when you tangled your fingers with hers.

part of you was still in disbelief that this was happening. you and Elisia were getting matching tattoos. you were always so sure that Elisia would be yours forever, but with your promise rings and now matching tattoos, you’ve practically sealed the deal with her. Elisia is yours, and you’re hers. forever.

Mike finished with her tattoo and did the same as he did to you. you and Elisia lifted your fingers, putting the two tattooed fingers together. “i can’t believe we actually did this.” you giggled. Elisia smiled, “they look so good. i’m so glad we did this.”

she pulled out her phone once more and snapped a photo of your fingers next to each other, with your rings in view as well. the two of you then stood up and walked over to the counter where Mike walked off to. you took out your wallet and handed him two 10s, and then an extra $20 for a tip. “thank you, Mike. you did incredible.”

“you guys were definitely the best customers of the day. don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.” he joked, making you and Elisia both laugh. “will do. thanks again, have a good night!”

when you got out of the shop, Elisia pulled you into a kiss in the middle of the sidewalk. you gripped her waist and kissed back with everything you had. she rested her head on yours when she pulled away, smiling as she looked into your eyes. you got so lost hers immediately.

“i love you so much.” you whispered. “thank you for giving me the best fucking day ever.”

“i love you more.” she hummed. “thank you for dinner, and the tattoos. thank you for being mine.”

a/n: here’s the request & photo reference! (i chose the 1st one ^_^)

#divider creds : cafekitsune #elisia brown #elisia brown x fem!reader #elisia brown x reader #t@gged x reader #t@gged

[alena-reblobs]

Trigun Bookclub Trimax Vol8 Part2

Vol01: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  | Vol02: Part 1 | Part 2

Trimax: Vol01 Part 1 Vol01 Part 2 | Vol02 Part 1 Vol02 Part 2 |

Vol 03 Part 1 | Vol03 Part2 | Vol04 Part1 | Vol04 Part2 | Vol05 |

Vol06 | Vol07 | Vol08 Part1 | Vol08 Part2

Oh hell yeah we'll get to one of my favourite spreads of the whole series in this Part.

I will also not excuse any swearing that I'm doing while writing this review.

Now I don't think I got this on my first read through, but the sound here ("Gakin") sounds very much like no bullet was loaded? Sooo I guess Wolfwood very cleverly anticipated this move by Legato so we have him double-tricking him! Good boy! (I haven't read all bookclub posts to vol8 yet, if smb else already said this, whoops)

He's free...but instant knock-out. Ouch.

"Oh no fucker, I WON'T have you staring at my bf's ass." (loosely interpreted Wolfwood's thoughts)

If he missed, does this mean Legato changed the trajectory of the bullets with his powers? Sounds like a wild thing to do (but I'm not sure if it's a wild thing for HIM or completely within his normal powers?)

THIS shit was not part of the plan.

Reclaimed his ass (good for him)

This panel of Livio shooting behin him and saying "Amen"? It's pretty fucking cool.

Much less cool is that he's shooting Wolfwood.

And now Chapel literally casting judgement upon Wolfwood from above. God has this boy not suffered enough?

It's started, guys. The inner thoughs of Wolfwood...You know when I started reading Trigun, I had just watched ep4 or 5 of Trigun and I thought Wolfwood was "just" another cool character, but basically a sidekick to the main character Vash. Then I binged the manga in 3 days and saw that, although none of the other characters like Meryl and Milly are any less fleshed out or any less important, next to Vash he's probably the only one about whom we get so so much wonderful insight. So much deep character feelings, so much thoughts...and I'm so so in love with his inner monologues. They hurt to read but they show he's not just the cool priest with the machine gun, but he's hurting, he's self doubting, he's vulnerable and afraid at times and he has wishes too...

And when he's sitting there, riddled with bullets, it's the thought of Livio and how he still has to save him, that manages to get him to keep going.

They were friends, brothers! Memories of happier times...

Which fucker shot my Wolfwood.

Gnaring, biting, chomping on wood.

It's coming it's coming

SJAKD fskfa Vash literally answering his prayer. Cradling Wolfwood in his wings gently!! And protecting him from the bullets. And also being turned to him with his body, partly shielding Wolfwood with himself, too. This whole page. is so...romantic. And that feels almost like it doesn't even describe it accurately. This is most definitely the part where I really started to ship them, but then, is it romantic or platonic? It doesn't really matter because as much as you want to or NOT want to interpret into their relationship at this point, to me it's clear that there's some kind of love here that's based on their mutual understanding, trust, and how they both have supported each other until this point.

sjkADfaf *sighs*

Big fan of this Vash drawing with this pose here.

Reading this for the thousandth time and falling only deeper into the Vashwood hole.

Knives your vulnerability is showing again.

Cheeky bastard! (I say with love)

The right page is absolutely beautiful. And I love how the panel on the left pages insinuates how they are bumping againest the ship on their way through very comedy-style.

Next chapter! Chapter 5:

I'm cherishing every panel where we see them close and caring about each other. Imagining Vash gently leaning Wolfwood against the rock after catching them both from the fall (did they land on his feathers or did they fly to the earth? I'd have loved to know how they did it)

Love that panel at the bottom of Wolfwood! And, Vash with his hair down (and cloak off) like this looks soo young! More like Wolfwood's age instead of 150 haha

Baby Wolfwood Baby Wolfwood

The situation is turned into a funny one on the next page, but these pleas, they are very much real and urgent and from the bottom of Wolfwood's heart...and he rarely ever begs or asks for anything.

Marlon!! So so happy to get some characters back that we know, and he's a very lovable character!! And, of course, Meryl <3

Knowing that his friends are there to back him up, even from afar, he looks more sure of himself. Because you're not alone!

And THEN you had to go and ruin the atmosphere, Wolfwood. Because you just WALKED AWAY you big idiot

Anybody else got reminded of the Cowboy Bebop ending notes?

And that's all of the Vol8 recap I'm gonna do. There's one more chapter but I don't really feel like doing that, others have already discussed it anyway, so that's it for me! Now I can really dig into vol9 this week, oh lord I can't wait.

#trigun #trigunbookclub #vashwood #the mentioned swearing occuring in my comments I mean

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

hey, I randomly stumbled upon this gold mine of fan fics and I'm in love. I was wondering, if you could direct me to some fan fics where Derek is the Dad of the pack - taking care of everyone, maybe even helping with figureing out life shit etc. I already checked the tag page but I couldn't find anything. thank you so much for your work, you are a god send

Sure, @perverted-guardian-angel!

The Last Element by AbandonShip

(1/1 I 3,556 I Mature I Sterek)

In which the pack goes missing and Stiles has to save them before it's too late:

“You okay?” Derek asks, looking into his eyes. The human can feel the werewolf’s warm breath on his neck. He slowly inches away from him, his hands on either side of his head. Stiles nods shyly. It was times like these that he wasn’t sure if he should turned on by Derek manhandling him or not.

Don't do research based on fanfics (or do it) by Chuluvya

(1/1 I 5,903 I General I Sterek)

Stiles had a problem: he was smothered and uncomfortable in pack piles, and every time they do it, he couldn't sleep.

So, being who he is, Stiles goes searching for a solution to the problem, because he love puppies piles and want to be into them, and after two days of searching, he ended up on ao3.

And the word 'nesting' sounds like the most effective solution.

Cause I Built A Home (For You, For Me) by nymphe

(1/1 I 6,860 I Teen I Sterek)

Erica is giggling somewhere in the background. “I think he’d like exactly what you’d like, mom.”

Or, a 5 Times fic wherein Stiles doesn’t realize he’s been accidentally co-parenting a gang of furry teenagers/displaying Perfect Mate Characteristics, + the 1 Time Derek enlightens him.

12 days of Christmas by SterekLover1302

(4/? I 8,479 I Teen I Sterek)

Lydia came up with a secret admirer game to stop all the dancing around each other and get the people who are oblivious about the person they like liking them back.

Wolves and Foxes Can Both Bite by the_painless_moustache

(1/1 I 8,662 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles doesn't realize he's kind of mom-ing the pack until it's far too late to stop.

If I Could Turn Back Time by CreeperSpockJr (1stBorn_RalphSpockJr)

(15/? I 20,378 I Mature I Scallison)

Derek Hale IS DEAD! Well... Sort of dead.

After being attacked by one of Kate Argent’s Berserkers, Derek dies and suddenly wakes up back in Beacon Hills... on the night Scott McCall was bitten by his uncle Peter. Now returning as a man on a mission, this time-traveling werewolf must change the past in order to preserve the future of his Pack.

True Love's Kiss, Attempted Murder by cowboilikeme

(3/3 I 115,134 I Not Rated I Sterek)

Beacon Hills has never been the most normal of towns, but recently things have been happening that are getting harder and harder to explain. And it's becoming more difficult to keep the supernatural a secret when something newer, darker and scarier comes to town in the shape of a teenage girl. But she is only the beginning to their problems. And what she brings with her is the worst this town has seen in a while.

“What’s so bad about getting a ride in this?” Derek sounded like he was smiling, but as beautiful and unbelievable as that sounded, Stiles still refused to look at the man, “It’s a good car.”

“Overcompensating?” Stiles ridiculed, knowing perfectly well that there was no way Derek wasn’t packing something impressive.

“I think we both know that’s not true,” Derek was smirking when Stiles finally turned to him, if only in shock by the werewolf’s statement.

“I think we both know there is no way I could know that,” Stiles winced at how bitter he sounded, but once it was out, there was no point in trying to suck it back up.

Protect and Serve by MoonlitMemories 

(17/17 I 150,789 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles discovers the Nemeton starting to grow again in the preserve on Hale land. What does that mean for the pack? More importantly: why does the Nemeton seem so attached to Stiles?

Get You The Moon by AClosedFicIsNeverRead

(30/30 I 180,785 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek looked up in surprise to note that they were taking a private jet. Dread settled into his gut like a stone. “It has a cage, doesn’t it?” he asked quietly, and noted the subtle changes in his family members’ posture. “Is it for me?” Cora gave him a pleading look and nodded. “Is it because of what you’re going to tell me?” he asked, voice like gravel. Another nod confirmed it. Stiles. Oh, GOD. It had to be Stiles. Derek would not lose control over anyone else in Beacon Hills and they damned well knew it.

- OR -

The one where Derek has been gone for 6 months building a new life, finds out that Stiles is being assaulted by Theo, so he comes back to Beacon Hills to kick some serious ass and rescue the loudmouthed human who stole his heart.

AND

@lovinglovelyloners suggested this one!

(Sacred) In the Ordinary by idyll

(9/9 I 78,759 I Explicit I Sterek)

The Pack, after college, graduate school and the starting of careers, comes back to Beacon Hills. Nothing's gotten less complicated after all this time.

Based on a kink meme prompt that grew legs and got serious.

Note: This is a whole lot of pack!fic with a very slow build Derek/Stiles.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #5 and 1 fic #submission

[artharakka]

Hello

I habe just recently come across your page. My condolences for Minni.

But Holy Shit, your art style is so cool. Your whole page is freaking fantastic beautiful. Sorry for just putting random words together. I love the artstyle so much. To be honest i am flabbergasted. I hope one day I can draw in a similar artstyle too, but i don’t think anything can come near to the talent you have.

Like fr i saw your drawings and was shocked. May i ask are some of your paintings inspired by mythology? Because they remind me of trolls and a book i had when i was a child from Jan Lööf, it was about trolls.

Sending lots if luvs and hugs from little nowhere in europe. 💕💕💕💕💕💕

Hi 🧡 Last night I dreamed of Minni, she was sleeping at my feet and she was warm and her side moved with her breathing, but I knew she wasn't really there and it didn't feel wrong, so in time, I think it will be alright 🧡

And thank you! I hope you don't mind me answering this publicly as this became a longer rambling about creating and inspirations! Rest under the cut:

Often I think I'm still kind of searching for an art style that feels most comfortable to me, but thank you for liking where I'm now 💕 But don't put yourself down! It has taken me a lot of trials and errors to be where I am. And I could've saved a lot of time if I had committed myself to learning the fundamentals first, taken more art classes, etc, but hey, sometimes art isn't about perfercting a style but finding something you are so passionate about you cannot stop creating and you end up learning in the process (for me it is stories, I find it very hard to sit down and do a "random" art piece with no background story for the characters in it). And creativity comes in many forms! With a quick glance, writing comes more naturally to you than to me (even though I would like to do that more).

Your ask made me think what exactly has inspired my art. I haven't illustrated mythological scenes or people (only that I can think of kind of referencing myths is the "Mirror" swordtember drawing I titled as "Perseus' End" on my Inprnt), but I'd say mythology definitely is there in sources of inspiration. Not some one and only, but multiple mythologies I think (mostly European, as sources to those are more accessible to me because, well, eurocentrism and language barriers, but also geographical closeness). Mediterranean mythologies, first as a kid through (Hellenistic) Greek, now more nuanced (lately obsessed with Minoan art and clothing, many thanks to Let's Talk About Myths, Baby! podcast). Playing (= @artist-rat playing for me because I was scared) Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice mabe me dig more deeply into Celtic and Norse mythologies. I'm also inspired by Finnish mythology (and I started to write more in depth about it's nuances, but it got long so it probably needs its own post at some point)

In short, much of it's lost or unclear whether it was appropriated from Karelians (or Sámi) people. But after the sources of mythological events and characters are uclear, what is left that inspires me is this kind of animistic belief system and reverence of nature. That if you sing a spell to the trees or rocks, you can shape what is around you. That a everyone has their own soul bird that brings your soul to you when you are born and carries away when you die. And while I also enjoy high fantasy and epics, what also inspires me is finding beauty in ordinary, in everything. Especially in nature. While I get and appreciate the beauty of mountains and sea and steep cliffs, I try and can find beauty near me. Ordinary pines, birds that I see while I walk to supermarket, lake's small waves against small stones. And I also find beauty and inspiration how in many small things near you, one can find marks of something more. Dinosaurs never disappeared nor did their reign ever end: birds are still here and much more numerous than humans. The small exposed piece of rock is part of Earth's foundation, it's grooves and scrapes were left by tonnes ice that passed it ten thousand years ago. The esker made of gravel and sand is not as high as a mountain, but it is still the highest in the entire world and for thousands of years people before you have climbed on top of it and seen the lakes and forests around it.

Mythologies and cultures also inspire me in a way that I love to invent them. Mostly by looking at what has already been. Imagine what all ways people have had or could have to promise to live together, to enter to adulthood. And I don't think of myself as particularly morbid person, but when I have a new story or ttrpg world, I love to think how do people there bury their loved ones. Where do they think they go and what do they need for that journey? Can they ever come back?

I was also about to list some artists that inspire me, but this is already so long that I think that will also be its own post. But I have a side blog @harakkae and there tags "art" and "inspiration" where I have collected some art and artists that inspire me!

Sorry again for long answer, I swear I cut out a lot of my ramblings! And thank you for loving my art! Hugs and best wishes to you as well and based on the fact that you had a book from Jan Lööf, I think I might be from as or even more nowhere in Europe as you 🧡🐦

#it's near midnight and there probably are typos but man do I love explaining #and enjoy the little lynx 🐆

[iridescentoracle]

bad wizards and shimmering rainbow-white robes

Someone else has probably already made this point—I'm late to the Locked Tomb party, I know—but I've been reading a whole lot of Locked Tomb posts (in between re-reading bits of the Locked Tomb books and thinking about The Lord of the Rings) recently, and if anyone else has made this point I haven't seen it yet, so, spoilers through Nona the Ninth:

Your gazes met. The other nascent Lyctor—the Third House saint, the Emperor’s bones and the Emperor’s joints, the Emperor’s fists and gestures—was clothed in a beautiful nacreous robe that glimmered all the colours of the rainbow: gauzy, iridescent white stuff that changed violently in the light.

(Chapter 4, Harrow the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir)

A mass of fabric whispered past you—you could not feel it on your body, but you felt the air upon your cheek—and then a person knelt in front of your chair. A shining, shimmering billow of pale fabric came into your field of vision, a rainbow-hued whiteness that ran through shades beneath the hot tungsten light, like the reflection of coloured glass on ice, the same stuff that now was draped around you. Then, awfully, your vision was lifted. Someone had pressed a finger lightly beneath your chin, and they were tilting it up so that you could see their face. You looked at the Lyctor. The Lyctor looked at you.

(Chapter 6, Harrow the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir)

‘“Radagast the Brown!” laughed Saruman, and he no longer concealed his scorn. “Radagast the Bird-tamer! Radagast the Simple! Radagast the Fool! Yet he had just the wit to play the part that I set him. For you have come, and that was all the purpose of my message. And here you will stay, Gandalf the Grey, and rest from journeys. For I am Saruman the Wise, Saruman Ring-maker, Saruman of Many Colours!” ‘I looked then and saw that his robes, which had seemed white, were not so, but were woven of all colours, and if he moved they shimmered and changed hue so that the eye was bewildered.

(“The Council of Elrond,” The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien)

I told them, This is it. We were put here to save the planet. We’re going to save the planet. We’re not going to let them run away. We’re going to fix this. And they were all, Yeah, John, because they were my friends and they loved me. But because they were also dicks and most of them had multiple tertiary degrees, they were also like, How though. We know you can do X and Y and Z. That’s still not A or B or C. We love the bone magic, but how are you going to pull this off? And it was P— of all people who said, First things first. If they’re going to let us fix the world, you’ve got to make them take us seriously. Get some leverage. If they want to make you into a bad wizard, be a bad wizard. We can write the history books to say you were a good wizard. Or at least an okay wizard. They’re not going to listen because we talk nicely, they’re going to listen because we scare the shit out of them.

(“John 5:1,” Nona the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir)

Ironically, of course, John himself doesn’t wear the shimmering rainbow-hued robes of the Lyctors—but his crown of infant fingerbones is first described as “a wreath of ribbon and pearlescent leaves in his dark hair, rustling prismatically in the windless docking bay" (Chapter 6, Harrow the Ninth), and frankly I think rainbow pearlescent leaves each “intertwined with a match-sized infant fingerbone” sounds significantly more evil than Saruman bothered looking, so eat your heart out Curunír I guess.

Of course, there's lots of irony about John adopting the trappings of that particular evil wizard, but I think the most ironic part might be the extent to which he really should've taken notes on the rest of the passage in question:

‘“I liked white better,” I said. ‘“White!” he sneered. “It serves as a beginning. White cloth may be dyed. The white page can be overwritten; and the white light can be broken.” ‘“In which case it is no longer white,” said I. “And he that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom.”

#the locked tomb #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth #locked tomb meta #the lord of the rings #lotr #fotr #character: saruman #character: john gaius

[isabellehemlock]

Trick or treat!

Hi Bee!! Thanks for sending me this ✨️🎃💖

For those not familiar I've been informed that I am meant to reply "with anything that is making you happy these days." As I am always down for a Polyanna-style Glad Game, here we go, in no particular order:

Naturally for me, the list got long, putting the rest under the cut lol:

The fall season. It's my fave - though yes the MN weather is like brrrr, but some days it's that peak dark academia aesthetic and nourishes me like no other

Scorpio season!! Hello fellow one (gonna be real embarrassed if I managed to mix yours up with someone else's, I apologize now if i have!) ~ happy Scorpio to us and to all the other Scorpio friends I've managed to somehow find across fandom spaces (ironically I did a comparison chart in my personal server just to see, and sure enough most were Scorpios and Cancers lol, make of that what you will 😅)

Going to be Catholic on Main for a sec and share how much I feel interconnected to this time of the liturgical calendar and look forward to All Soul's/Saint's Day ❤️

My stress levels have gone way down thanks to no med forms or hospital visits for a while and fingers crossed for good test results in the spring (but I am hopeful and feeling lighter)

My children are heading into pre-teen age dynamics and it's a joy to see their personas and identieis emerging with beautiful expressions of their characters

We are half way through floor renos and hope the removal of wall to wall carpeting will be better for my lungs full time - the air purifiers have helped!

I get to take my passion for creativity and am currently helping on brochures for an apostolate in our province

My Godson was approved for SSDI which opens up so many more resources and consistency for him and I rejoice 🙏🏻

After an extended break due to real life events, after three MONTHS I'm currently writing the tail end of my dark fic, the last three chapters. I'm 12k+ in already and plan for about 20k to 30k total over the next three weeks. My hope is to post them back to back to back in 48hr intervals as a reward for people hanging in there for so long

October 2nd marked one year since I started a multi fandom mini server and it remains a highlight of my day ✨️

I wrapped all fandom projects - both ones I've modded, and participated in - with my last one going up tomorrow! - all save for one, the @tdvzine which is now in the creative stage! I'm going to making my biggest art piece to date - a two page spread in landscape format and I can't divulge two many details but honestly I'm certain it's going to take weeks and I can't wait. I also am so thrilled to have potentially over 100 submissions for this project! Like whoa!!

I'm about to start a spooky modern au piece for @zairaalbereo for OFMD - outlined, plotted, pinterest moodboard lol, it's happening!

A big thing is that just a few hours ago, I shared an invitation for a conversation with some friends on the server. If you're curious just let me know via DM, I'll pass it on to you as well 😘

And because it feels strange to end it with 13 points, I'll add one more:

To know that regardless of time, and space, there are people like you who are wishing me well and I hope you know I send that love right back in any way I can. Thank you for sending me this Bee, and I hope it brought a smile!

#answered ask #bee tag

[schmergo]

I should be going to sleep but I'm still so blown away by how incredibly good STC's King Lear was that my mind is still racing. Patrick Page was so good and moving in the title role, unbelievably powerful and incredibly frail. He played the age of the character so well that I totally forgot that he's really only the same age as my (quite youthful) mom. When he kneeled on the stage, I actually worried about his joints! 

His delivery is so compelling and stage presence so magnetic that it pins your mind to the spot and refuses to let it wander. He makes you cry and yet he's also, like, really funny. And then he makes you sad with how funny he is. It's a tremendous performance. So many images from it are seared into my mind.

The rest of the cast was quite strong, too. I am a longtime STC fan-- in fact, I've actually seen over 30 shows there over the years. This is one of the best I've seen so far. I feel like in the past, some of their Shakespeare productions have had a little more style than substance, but this show felt so carefully crafted-- the supporting characters were all well-established and differentiated from one another, the cut of the script lean and fast-paced, the direction was sharp and purposeful, the set established place very well without being distracting or leaning into spectacle. The costuming was clever and lent a lot to the characterizations and settings; in some cases, one outfit was worth a thousand words.

This the second time I've gotten to see Patrick Page perform this past year. The first was in Hadestown on Broadway, the first in-person professional theatre production I saw since the world shut down in early 2020. It was such a revelatory experience that I decided then that I had to go back to seeing more DC theatre despite the COVID risk (masked, of course)-- it's one of the greatest joys of my life and one of the things I missed most.

I couldn't have picked a better time. This winter and early spring has been an extraordinary season for local theatre. Every show I've seen since I started watching local theatre again has been outstanding: Into the Woods at Signature Theatre, Beauty and the Beast at Olney Theatre, The Tempest at Round House, and now this. I firmly believe that DC professional theatre is as some of the best in the country and it's such a gift to experience this after so long without live theatre.

Two notes about this production of King Lear: 

1. If you're 35 and under, you can get discount tickets for $35. That was a HUGE savings.

2. As you may know, my biggest source of squeamishness and fear is any kind of eyeball gore. There's a very famous gory scene in this play. It involves eyeballs. I have avoided seeing any productions of King Lear up until this point partly because of that. I was told the scene in this production was especially chilling, but because I loved Hadestown so much, I had to risk it and go see it anyway. I can't tell you how the scene was because I closed my eyes and put my fingers in my ears during it, but I wanted to warn you if you're squeamish like me.

#shakespeare #theatre #King lear #Patrick page #dc #washington dc #shakespeare theatre company