#snk salt

[anlian-aishang]

// I just think he deserves more moments like this 💟

// Thank you to @feenwege for the commission ^^

// Do not repost!!!

#levi #levi ackerman #salt and pepper #fan art #VERIFIED ART #levi fan art #levi ackerman fan art #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot fan art #snk fan art

[bedknees]

It's almost comical how unsubtle people are being with their ableism in regards to post-war Levi. They're really letting their true colors show, so I'm gonna just lay it out there bluntly:

Levi Ackerman is disabled. He is using a wheelchair 3 years after the Rumbling. Stop trying to erase his disabilities because it makes you feel 'sad' or 'uncomfortable'. Stop bitching and moaning because your fave is disabled. It's a huge slap in the face to people with real disabilities and only accomplishes the goal of telling everyone how you really feel about disabled people IRL. And if you verbalize that you like him as a character less now, you're just telling on yourself.

#salt #levi ackerman #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk spoilers #text #ableism

[lostcauses-noregrets]

I'm trying to remember the name of a realistic darker kind of fic where Erwin lived alone by the sea and was maybe a fisherman, and Levi was a non-verbal sea creature of some sort. Like a scary kind of mermaid or siren. Levi is wounded or needs help, and stays with Erwin in his little cabin. I remember loving it so much but I can't find it for the life of me, does it ring a bell to you?

Yes! It does indeed ring a bell, because it's one of my favourite fics. The fic you're looking for is Salt by rivai-lution. Erwin is an injured military veteran dealing with the aftermath of a traumatic brain injury who works alone as a lighthouse keeper on a small island. Levi is a wild mer cursed for his curiosity, and cast ashore on Erwin's island. It's a beautifully written fic, dark and atmospheric and perfectly in character. It also has a surprisingly joyful and uplifting ending. Enjoy!

#asks #eruri #fic rec #i never tire of re-reading salt #erwin smith #levi ackerman #meruris #snk

[warm-starlight]

The expressions of people in SnK manga who have been crying or tearing up.

Mappa should fucking animate it as it is.

#snk #aot #salt #i still can't believe how much they downplayed it all

[ambassadorarlert]

today is my birthday, and to celebrate i'm paying homage to aot characters and their big 3 zodiac signs. a few things though: a. the website i used doesn't allow for triple digit years, so i assigned a birth year based on their age of the completed manga, plus a year since the manga officially ended, plus whether they have had a birthday already or not, and worked around that. i also use 12:00PM as a time, and Oita, Japan as a birthplace b. we'd be here forever if i laid out everyone's birthchart, so i'm only doing sun/moon/rising. your sun sign represents your ego and motives, your moon sign represents how you handle your emotions, and your rising represents how present yourself. c. let's pretend certain ppl are alive and well ok this post is supposed to be happy :")

let's begin...

Eren Yeager - March 30th, 1999 Sun in Aries: very energetic and high-spirited. fiercely independent, must be first in everything, and enjoys taking risks. brilliant at initiating new projects, but terrible at following them to completion. an enthusiastic leader but tends to be a reluctant follower. often quick to anger, but you usually recovers just as fast, and regrets things that were said later. simple and direct, blunt and honest -- must be careful not to hurt others' feelings. the need to be competitive at all costs may provoke resistance from others, but, as long the sunny good humor is kept, this should not prove to be a major problem. Moon in Gemini: restless in the extreme, easily bored because of a short attention span. emotions change rapidly and loves to talk about feelings. generally has good judgment. the intellect controls emotions and does not overreact emotionally to things. a good jack-of-all-trades, has many sided interests and enjoy reasoning things through. attracted to traveling and learning about other peoples and cultures. has vivid powers of emotional self-expression and can be a nonstop talker. loves to share ideas with anyone who will listen. Rising in Cancer: Very sensitive by nature, prefers to be in your own familiar surroundings. cautious and conservative. makes changes very slowly, if at all. does not open up easily to strangers. friendships are made for life and once given, your trust is forever. his mother and home as a child and early family life in general are very important. very sentimental. when feeling confident, he is very gentle, giving and protective of the needs of others. when feeling insecure or threatened, becomes overly sensitive to criticism, shy, withdrawn and moody. has a strong need for security in the sense that you are being loved, nourished and protected.

Mikasa Ackerman - February 10th, 1998 Sun in Aquarius: gets bored with the status quo and are generally open to new things and ideas. an individualist and a free spirit, friends are quite important as long as they do not try to tie her down by making too many emotional demands. thoughts are offbeat and a bit eccentric, but not always. very changeable. can be quite stubborn at times. very fair-minded when dealing with large groups or broad issues, are not always emotionally sensitive to the needs of individuals. extremely objective, with good powers of observation, would be qualified to study technical and complicated subjects, like science, computers or maybe even astrology. Moon in Leo: always wants to be proud of herself and will never do anything that will make her look bad. needs the respect and admiration of others and enjoy attracting attention. Everything she does tends to be self-emphasized and self-exaggerated. very stubborn. willful and independent. has to remember to allow the similar right to "be themselves." loves games and sports, would rather play than work. Rising in Gemini: extremely active by nature. likes to get around, meet people and do different things. very restless, can't seem to stay put. needs to be involved in several projects at once in order to keep the mind stimulated. likes to read books and to write letters and to talk. constantly. will always appear to be much younger than she really is. very adaptable and inquisitive, always open to new ideas and experiences. another "jack-of-all-trades", lively and versatile. athletic activity would be a good way to burn off energy.

Armin Arlert - November 3rd, 1999 Sun in Scorpio: intense and complex by nature. has extremely strong emotional reactions to most situations. feelings are often difficult to verbalize and therefore has a tendency to be very quiet. broods and thinks a lot. rarely gets overtly angry, and when he does, he is furious and unforgiving. when making an emotional commitment, it is total. is not attracted to superficial or casual relationships. when challenged, it is taken as a personal affront and lashes out/fights back in a vengeful manner. loves mysteries and the supernatural. a good detective, loves getting to the roots of problems and enjoys finding out what makes people tick. known to be very willful, powerful and quite tenacious. Moon in Virgo: tends to be serious-minded but mostly cheerful. needs tasks that engage both mind and hands. a careful worker who enjoys making things. neat and orderly, and are very concerned with good health habits. fastidious to the extreme, cannot tolerate messes and will immediately clean them up. reserved, shy, and very self-critical, tends to be very hard on himself. usually will go out of his way to be helpful. practical, reliable, efficient and conservative, at times a bit of a prude. known to lead a simple, uncomplicated, frugal, methodical and unemotional lifestyle. devoted and caring to those he loves. Rising in Capricorn: practical and reserved but very ambitious. an achiever and a hard worker, respects success. older looking and very serious as a youth, things lighten up and he will relax more as he matures. has a serious view of the world as being a difficult place to be in. very envious of those who seem to have an easier life than him, relaxation and play do not come easily. it's important that he had abundant parental support as a child so that he does not feel lonely and isolated as an adult. (:/) has an earthy sense of humor that can carry through when times really do get tough. purposeful, self-willed, industrious, realistic and responsible.

Jean Kirstein - April 7th, 1999 Sun in Aries: [Refer Eren Yeager] Moon in Sagittarius: prefers the grand, the beautiful, the good and noble. gets very disappointed when high expectations are not met. very curious, enjoys traveling and learning about other peoples and cultures. needs to avoid the tendency of ignoring the small but important details of living. independent and free and wants others to be that way, too. Optimistic, buoyant and cheerful, others like to have him around. has an incessant desire to learn as much as possible about metaphysics, religion, philosophy and any other broad, deep subject. life tends to be punctuated by bursts of energy and frenetic activity. Rising in Cancer: [Refer to Eren Yeager] (funny how they could never seem to get along but have similar birth placements lol)

Connie Springer - May 2nd, 1999 Sun in Taurus: known for being patient, slow moving and careful. loves to prolong and savor enjoyable times. appreciates and need comfort, ease and warm surroundings. a tendency of becoming placid and self-satisfied, and to overeat; especially sweets. requires strenuous situations in order to grow and mature, and simultaneously actively avoids said situations. affectionate, even-tempered and slow to anger. when he is emotionally upset, he is also slow to forgive. demands real results from any situation. abstractions are very difficult to comprehend. very artistic, his hands love to mold and shape things. portrays an earthy, physical sexiness that others find quite seductive. Moon in Scorpio: feelings are very intense and never superficial. tends to be either very angry, very sad or completely happy. moods are deep, extreme and not always completely understood by himself or by others. emotionally tends to prefer to live at the cutting edge of life, pushing reactions to the ultimate extremes even if the results are dangerous or upsetting. easily jealous and very suspicious. requires a great deal of emotional reassurance. also is a good detective. very curious about deep and mysterious things, especially human nature and motivations. Rising in Leo: loves to be the center of attention and wants to appear strong, confident and dominant. very proud of himself, sometimes quite vain even. very dignified and honorable. enjoys the power and privilege, but not the responsibilities, that come with leadership. very idealistic but can also be quite stubborn. prefers rich, elegant surroundings and possessions, and will try to acquire them as his budget allows. Physically, very impressive. has a regal, charismatic demeanor and bearing. has a tendency to be a show off! Sasha Braus - July 26th, 1999 Sun in Leo: More than a bit of a showoff, loves to be the center of attention! others do not usually mind because they tend to enjoy her genuine warmth and affection. very spirited and willful, proud and self-important. she demands her own way. quite honest. never compromises herself and pursues goals with persistence and dedication. her regal presence and demeanor draws her to positions of leadership and authority. must beware of being overly hardheaded, domineering, ostentatious or patronizing as this will lose the goodwill and admiration. very theatrical. lives life on a grand scale wherever and whenever possible. Moon in Capricorn: serious and shy and very uncomfortable in situations where spontaneous and exuberant emotional reactions seem called for. an achiever, prefers doing practical, worthwhile things that produce tangible results. needs role models to respect, love and emulate. tends to feel that she is a failure unless she get an important and highly respected position in life. Is always hard on herself. practical needs always win out over emotional considerations. must remember that she has the right to comfort, security and love. Dutiful and patient. when making an emotional commitment, it is for the long haul. Rising in Libra: Very attractive and popular, charm helps get her own way and prevents others from getting angry. "Peace and harmony at all costs" is her battle cry. always try to ameliorate or to cosmetically hide any physical ugliness or any angry feelings between people. Flashy, but not gaudy, prefers to dress elegantly. generally has good taste in music, art and literature. has a tendency to compromise herself in an attempt to be agreeable at all times. a social butterfly. can be vain and lazy. gracious and affectionate, serves as a role model to others.

Reiner Braun - August 1st, 1996 Sun in Leo: [Refer to Sasha Braus] Moon in Pisces: has strong feelings and is extremely sensitive. tends to react emotionally to every situation he comes across. kind, gentle and considerate of the feelings of others, good at taking care of the sick, wounded and helpless. will absorb the energy of others, and must avoid those who are always negative. has a rich, creative and lively imagination, but should be careful not to spend all his time daydreaming. very intuitive, has a good ESP and may be quite clairvoyant or psychic. must remember that he too has the right to get what he wants from life. Rising in Scorpio: tends to be quiet, reserved, secretive and quite difficult to understand. others notice his deep emotions and feelings and wonder how to draw him out. stubborn and tough, fights for any position he believes in. very resourceful and formidable when angered or upset about something. enjoys living life at the cutting edge, for life must be experienced intensely and totally. quite courageous, willing to take calculated risks. easily hurt by others, often strike back with bitter sarcasm. sensitive and curious. concerned with the deeper mysteries of human psychology. Bertolt Hoover - December 30th, 1996 Sun in Capricorn: extremely serious and mature. capable of accepting responsibilities and do so willingly. tends to get angry when people get rewards after not having worked anywhere near as hard as himself. goal-oriented and an achiever by nature. a hard worker and are justifiably proud of the tangible results of his efforts. tends to have "tunnel-vision" which allows him to block out extraneous matters that might distract others and to concentrate totally on the matter at hand. the ideal one to manage or administrate any ongoing project and will be practical and efficient at it. not a fast worker, but are quite thorough. known for being totally persistent, tenacious and tireless in reaching your goals. Moon in Virgo: [Refer to Armin Arlert] Rising in Aries: a free spirit, energetic, self-assertive and active. must do everything full-tilt, 100 miles per hour! a great competitor, but a poor cooperator. must learn how to lose gracefully. very self-confident, ambitious and passionate. radiates positive energy. blunt and direct, but at times unfeeling and tactless, especially if anyone offers you any resistance. fights for his beliefs, but often acts first and thinks later.

Annie Leonhardt - March 22nd, 1997 Sun in Aries: [Refer to Eren Yeager] Moon in Virgo: [Refer to Armin Arlert] Rising in Cancer: [Refer to Eren Yeager]

Levi Ackerman - December 25th, 1983 Sun in Capricorn: [Refer to Bertolt Hoover] Moon in Virgo: [Refer to Armin Arlert] Rising in Pisces: sensitive to his surroundings, other people's feelings become your feelings. must avoid negative people because his tendency to empathize with them will make him negative also. an idealist, must believe in something beyond normal everyday existence. a dreamer, likes to escape to a world of his own creation. known for his imagination and should try to share inner visions with others. self-sacrificial by nature. must allow himself to live once in a while. envious of those who are more aggressive than he is. his gentle charity and true humility are indeed wonderful gifts.

Hange Zoe - September 5th, 1991 Sun in Virgo: Extremely careful and cautious by nature. values neatness and order above all else. rigorously practice very high standards of living and conduct. sometimes so supercritical that they come off as nit-picky. very good at practical skills and quite handy with tools of all kinds. greatly concerned with hygiene, cleanliness and personal health problems. likely their health is much better than they think. methodical and analytical, a perfectionist and makes them the perfect person to carry out highly detailed, precise operations. pays so much attention to details that they may lose sight of the larger issues. Moon in Cancer: very strong and secure emotionally. intuitively knows what to do to make others feel comfortable, loved, accepted and needed. naturally enjoys feeding and taking care of others. it hurts deeply whenever anyone criticizes them. has an almost desperate need to be loved and wanted and needed by everyone and will go out of your their to be accommodating to them. Rising in Scorpio: [Refer to Reiner Braun]

Erwin Smith - October 14th, 1983 Sun in Libra: Very sociable. enjoys being with others and prefers not to be alone. Warm and affectionate. goes out of his way to make others like you. despises ugliness, for being surrounded by beauty and harmony is a necessity of life. prefers fine clothing, an attractive home and pleasant surroundings. his refined tastes apply to music and to art as well. very indecisive. wavers and falters when forced to make a choice because he has the ability to see both sides of any question. very fair-minded and can be trusted to settle disputes. greatest challenge is to take any one-on-one and make the most of it. Moon in Capricorn: [Refer to Sasha Braus] Rising in Capricorn: [Refer to Armin Arlert]

reblogs and feedback are appreciated!

taglist: @xttxck @snake-titan @fireandblood-xxii

#pls take a big ol spoonful of salt #my writing #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren yeager #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #levi ackerman #connie springer #jean kirstein #sasha braus #hange zoe #erwin smith #reiner braun #bertolt hoover #annie leonhardt

[ourmondobongo]

For you. What was the perfect way Hange arc would’ve ended?

I have two answers:

My heart: alive, retired from SC, an active researcher and inventor helping rebuilding the destroyed world, working close with other nations to strengthen their relationships post-rumbling, staying in the continent with Levi (not necessarily as couple or anything - just away from Paradis, where they would lit up the stakes for her.) A LH friend also commented it would be nice to see Hanji gathering the stories of other people and help register them as to not be forgotten! I felt it was also in character for her story with books, knowledge and understanding.

My mind: I hold such a grudge over the general conclusion of snk plot, I honestly don't think I can meta anything deep about a Hanji "perfect ending". I honestly wouldn't even mind if she died - I just didn't want it to be the way it was: a blatant kill off that in the next chapter rubs salt in the deep wound with the damn flying titan.

#answering devoted hearts

[sangco]

i've been following you for a very very long time (the snk askblog days !) and your art still blows me away every time. i just love your colors and painterly style. do you have some art tips, tutorials, brush recommendations etc ? i really want to improve my digital painting skills and i'm curious about your process

Oh no! Not the ask blogs..... but thank you so much for your continued support of my work 🥺♥

I think the most important things I always keep in mind is colour theory though I can't say im always successful each time I do it 😂 Honestly when I see guides it all never makes sense to me?? What do they want me to do even!!

These guys explain things pretty well though and much more professional than me:

Emel's Colour theory notes Gigi's colour/lighting notes And also this image right here

Honestly main things are

limit your palette - use a colour fill set to low opacity overlay or 10% opacity normal for the mood you want for the piece, your character might be wildly coloured but this brings it together

split/complementary palettes are great, saturate one side, desaturate the other for contrast (looks teal but its actually a grey if you swatch it )

don't you dare use white grey or black to shade! dont you dare!!!!

add a slightly more saturated colour in the middle of your shading gradient for some pop

personal taste but i like to dab some colour elsewhere where it might not belong 🤷‍♀️

my personal pet peeve is that i dont actually like swatching from character sheets im sorry the cat is out of the bag whats the fun if you cant play around with lighting and mood

most important skill is to not be scared to try things that are hard that you think wont work out!! trust in the process!! itll look like ass the whole way through!! use colour balance at the end if you need to!!

also colour theory relies on the ryb wheel rather than rgb which really messes with you in digital settings... thats something i still need to memorise more... awful

Also tosses this out here too: Jing's brushes are my current go to since I work more in procreate now

Anyways half the time I dont even listen to myself and forget the stuff i should be doing and i have to go back and ref my own art style so who knows!!! take this all with a lot of salt

#process #faq

[acacia-may]

Let’s pour some salt together, Acacia~!/lh 💖

If it’s not too much trouble, can I ask #7 generally, #10 for Fairy Tail and Black Clover, and finally #25 for Demon Slayer?

It’s several questions and a bit all over the pl s so I hope you don’t mind… 😅

Cheers, Erika! 🥂 Thanks for the chance to get a little bit salty about so many different things! ^^

Necessary disclaimer above the cut: These are just my own personal opinions based on my personal tastes, perceptions, and feelings regarding the series, stories, and characters and their relationships. I genuinely have the utmost respect and absolutely no ill will towards anyone who has a different opinion than me. In fact, I have always said that one of the greatest things about fandom is that we can all experience and perceive these amazing stories and characters in very different ways but still love them. Even some of my dearest fandom friends enjoy different pairings than me or see our shared favorite characters in wildly different ways than I do. I personally find it very rewarding to have respectful conversations about our differences of opinion, and I hope that my opinions will also be respected. Also, I don't vibe with just mindless bashing things, so even though this is about to get very salty and a little snarky, I'll try to keep it respectful and all in good fun. I am not tagging anything and am hiding my thoughts under the cut so you all don't have to be subjected to my hot takes and "Salty Acacia," if you don't want.

MAJOR Spoilers for Demon Slayer below the cut. You've been warned.

7. Is there anything you used to like but can’t stand now?

ATTACK ON TITAN/SNK. My sister says I need a swear jar because I can just rant for hours about how I was just so personally, viscerally disappointed with how that series ended (made all the worse because I had several years of investment in it). As a disclaimer, I still like my favorite characters and the side story "No Regrets" will always be **Chef's Kiss** but yeah...you could not pay me to watch or read it ever again.

But again, disclaimer, that's just me. It's my cousin's favorite anime of all time, and he loved the ending. Everyone's different.

As for anything else from fandoms I actually talk about...I'm not sure there is anything. Like everyone with an online presence, I have definitely been disturbed, appalled, and otherwise very upset by things I've seen on the internet, but that's what the block button is for (and I know it's all peace, love, & good vibes around here, but I block aggressively, actively, and unapologetically when the situation warrants it). As a general rule though, I try not to let what other people think get to me and ruin the things I love, and in that way, I don't think I have ever had a situation where something was just completely 100% ruined for me by a terrible fic, toxic fandom, or anon hatred ect. ect. I have certainly distanced myself from certain pairings and certain fandoms because of that, but I wouldn't say any of them have ever reached the level of "I can't stand it now." If anything, I sometimes feel a little contrary and dig my heels in on that thing in a petty revenge, "Well in that case, I'll just like this more" kind of way, if that makes sense?

All of that said, I have no patience for nasty, toxic fandom environments, and I stay away from those even if it's a media I really like i.e. you mentioned MHA in one of your salty asks...I wrote my one platonic friendship fic and got the hell outta there (nothing bad happened to me but it just wasn't worth it to take any chances). But that doesn't mean I don't enjoy it in real life and sometimes talk about it with my sisters and irl friends. I just don't want to discuss it online. It's not worth the headache & drama.

I definitely get fandom fatigue sometimes where the aggressiveness and toxicity of the fans of a certain pairing or character I already don't like just intensifies my dislike for that thing. But that's really only ever happened with things I already don't like or don't have an opinion on at all, which I don't think that really fits the prompt here.

10. Most disliked arc? Why?

Fairy Tail: The anime-only Celestial Spirit Arc by a landslide. It was so boring and had so many pacing issues. I literally fell asleep during it and didn't even both going back. I'm also super bitter towards that arc because my sister got so bored during it that she quit the anime (right before getting the best arc Tartaros). I keep begging her to pick it up again and just skip the stupid Celestial Spirit Arc but she swears she is a completionist and would never be able to do it. So yeah. Can't stand that one! The only positive thing I could remotely say about it was that Levy on the game show was kind of entertaining, but overall the whole arc was kind of just like a boring bizarre dream I'd like to forget about.

For arcs that appeared in both the anime and manga, I really didn't like that flute arc (which a google search has informed me is actually called the "Eisenwald Arc"). I'm glad we got Gray and Erza introduced as characters, but the arc had a lot of pacing issues and just went on for way too way, imo. They could've wrapped things up a lot faster, also I just didn't get the whole "evil flute" thing--it was really random and kind of bizarre (also not the most well thought out plan in the world). I will say this arc gets more points than the Celestial Spirit Arc because my sister and I had so much fun making Kokushibo flute jokes.

Black Clover: Gotta go with the anime only arc here too because again, it was boring and didn't have a lot of bearing on the series as a whole. It also felt like a major let down after the high stakes of the Elf Arc. Honestly just not a fan of that one.

If I had to pick a manga arc...uh...I honestly don't know. Maybe the Sosshi village arc? But only because I thought it was better in the anime where they really took the time to flesh out Magna's backstory. It felt more rushed in the manga, but I don't dislike it as much as that anime only one.

If I can pick a character arc, freaking FINRAL'S!! Like what happened here?! It was so, so good...until it wasn't. I JUST CAN'T WITH THE AMOUNT OF REGRESSION. It makes me want to beat my head against the wall even more than he is! But I think this was about story arcs, not characters arc so I'll refrain from ranting here.

25. Would you change the ending of Demon Slayer?

This is kind of a complicated one. My sister and I were just talking about this because she feels there was too much character death, but I feel it was a justified and appropriate amount for the high stakes of the series (even if it was devastating). So for the sake of this discussion, let's assume that the author had a "character death quota" (or a set number of characters who were going to be killed off by the end of the series). If that was the case, I would have axed Uzui at the end of the Entertainment District Arc and saved Genya in the final arc.

If there was a believable/reasonable way that Muichiro could have gone into god-mode and defeated Kokushibo without dying, I would have saved him too, having Uzui take his "death slot." Then I would have saved Genya by having Sanemi die to protect him (which would have been a much more satisfying ending to his arc, in my opinion).

As sad as the other deaths were (*weeps about ObaMitsu*) Muichiro and Genya were children. While it's realistic for them to die, it's especially tragic, and if I got to rewrite the ending, I would prioritize saving them.

Though to be perfectly fair, I would have been much happier with the ending if Uzui had died in the Entertainment District Arc and any of our heroes who died in the final battle survived instead. I'll forever be salty that Uzui of all people somehow managed to survive to the end when so many others did not, especially since his arc had already wrapped up and him dying in the Entertainment District would have been a satisfying conclusion to his story whereas so many other characters who did get axed had storylines that felt unfinished (Genya especially).

Also, Himejima should have played the flute at Kokushibo causing him to lose his cool in the infinity castle so much faster. I'm really upset this didn't happen. (Kidding but I would’ve loved to see him just go completely unhinged over the flute. I make way too many Kokushibo flute jokes…)

#salty acacia #salty asks #there will be no more tags #please don't hurt me

[cream-no-sugar]

make me forget (a jeankasa smut scene)

fandom: aot/snk

characters: mikasa ackerman x jean kirstein (background: mikasa ackerman x eren jaeger)

synopsis: still reeling from her impromptu encounter with eren jaeger (the leader of a rival gang in the rural town of Paradise), mikasa seduces her classmate (and regular fwb) jean kirstein at a friday night party. she has her way with him in the upstairs bathroom — in an attempt to get off and get her mind off the other young man she's supposed to have nothing to do with.

tags & warnings: modern AU, rival gang AU, bathroom sex, underage drinking, unrequited love, mikasa is goth and 18, jean is a "nice boy" and 18, jeankasa are fwb, eren is 25, eremika technically "hate" each other because they have to (but mikasa is hung up on eren, she just doesn't know it)

a/n: enjoy this sneak preview of the upcoming chapter of my rival gang au, "sins of our fathers." the chapter itself is about 80% written. and, candidly, I just wanted to share this scene prior to officially updating the fic — mainly because I'm wary of the reception since this scene is embedded in an eremika-heavy fic, and (honestly) jeankasa deserves their chance to shine.

word count: 1.6k

---

Friday nights for Paradise High School seniors are always punctuated with a house party, especially when the school year is winding down. Tonight, Mikasa finds herself at Connie’s house — which is ideal. It's far enough on the other side of town that she has a built-in excuse to stay out later, or even to stay the night (not that Levi or Kenny look for her when she's been gone too long).

And Connie's house is huge. With a pool and a huge yard, so it's easy either to find company or to hide from company — whatever Mikasa is in the mood for, at a moment's notice.

Admittedly, she's looking for chaos and over-stimulation tonight — she doesn't know any other way to get her to feel like herself again. She loathes to admit it, but her run-in with Jaeger at the convenience store threw her for a loop.

The first time she saw him, at Maria's, she was mentally prepared for that. She couldn't admit it to herself — let alone Levi when he confronted her about skipping school the other day — that she went to Maria's with an intention. She wasn't stupid: she had been immersed in this world all her life, and she had picked up intel on where he could be lurking at any point of the day by listening through keyholes and feigning ignorance around her uncle and her aunt and her cousin and all her associates…

That was the benefit of being seen as a stupid, little girl: no one would suspect that she'd attempt to find the boy whose family single-handedly ruined her life.

But when they ran into each other at the convenience store…

She didn't expect Jaeger — Eren — to be so… relatable.

Before she can allow that thought to get away from her, Mikasa heads to the kitchen, joins a group of people gathered around the island. She accidentally jostles Sasha, who — upon seeing who bumped into her — excitedly and unpromptingly grabs Mikasa's hand and swipes a lime wedge on her nonbandaged wrist. Sasha sprinkles a little salt on the juice, tiny white granules decorating Mikasa's pale skin and the ebony granite countertop.

Mikasa feels something nudge her pinky, and she sees that Jean has scooted a shot glass toward her. Some tequila spills over the rim and onto Mikasa's hand — she doesn't miss how Jean's pupils dilate when she brings her finger to her mouth, sucks the droplets off her skin.

That's an idea, Mikasa thinks to herself as the group raises their shot glasses in glee, loudly whooping and toasting to the weekend and to the rest of their lives. The liquid burns her throat and her chest in a way that she feels like she needs, like she deserves.

She sidles closer to Jean when everyone thrusts their empty glasses toward the center for a refill. She makes a point to bump her hip against his, to lean into him when she reaches for her second shot of tequila — to meaningfully look him in the eye when she clinks her glass to his.

She feels his hand ghost over her hips. But he won't touch her — not yet. Because Mikasa knows that Jean Kirstein is a gentleman, or as close to a gentleman as one could find in Paradise. And he won't touch her unless she asks him to — or until he's drunk enough where all his inhibitions have disappeared.

Sometimes she feels bad because Jean is so obviously in love with her that she thinks she might be taking advantage of him. But, admittedly, he’s really fucking hot and gives great head. So she doesn’t even protest when he (finally) starts getting handsy after their third, maybe fourth or fifth, round of shots — she’s actually the one who pulls him away from the group and into the upstairs bathroom, pulls her face to his and licks into his mouth while shimmying out of her underwear.

“Someone’s needy tonight,” he slurs against her lips. Mikasa winces when his fingers trace her bare pussy, sighs when he starts to circle her clit.

“Shut the fuck up,” she growls. “You gonna get me off tonight or not, Kirstein?”

And Jean just snickers against her mouth, nips her lower lip as he presses on her throbbing nub just a little bit harder. “If that’s what you want, princess,” he mumbles.

And Mikasa doesn’t even dignify Jean’s sarcastic retort with a response of her own. Instead, she threads her fingers through his overgrown hair and pulls his mouth deeper into hers. Spreads her legs wider on the bathroom counter so that her slickness starts to leak on the marble surface below her, so that Jean can more easily slide two, three fingers into her.

They’ve hooked up enough times before this point that Mikasa anticipates Jean’s rhythms. He works her up with his tongue in her mouth and his fingers in her pussy until she’s a sloppy mess, her arousal dripping down her thighs and onto Jean's hand. When he removes his fingers, she whines at the emptiness — then groans when she sees how her juices web between his fingers, watches Jean lick his fingers clean, his tongue lapping up the wetness that has coated every inch of his digits.

He always tells her that he wants to get her wet enough so it’s easier for him to enter her. And Mikasa understands his reasoning — he is a bit larger than some of the other guys she’s been with. But she also thinks — especially when she sees how hungry he looks as he sucks on his fingers, when he finally kneels before her — that he just wants her wet enough so he can consume more of her. He's told her before that no other girl tastes as good as she does.

It’s intoxicating, when she thinks about how much power she has over him. As he kneels between her legs and tongues her opening, sucks on her clit so ravenously that she has to find purchase by grabbing the counter edge, pulling on his hair, curling her toes in her heavy-toed boots.

"Fuck, Jean—" Mikasa gasps, and her breath hitches as he circles her clit with the tip of his tongue and slowly pushes two of his fingers inside her. It feels good. It always feels good because Jean has a long tongue and strong fingers and a selflessness that guarantees that Mikasa will come at least twice when they’re together.

And, sure enough, he tongues her so effortlessly that, after a few focused minutes, she breaks above him. She braces herself, arches her back, needs to remind herself not to squeeze her thighs so tightly around Jean's face even though she can't help it. And she yells so loudly that she's certain that everyone downstairs can hear her — not that she nor Jean care; it's an open secret that they fuck each other almost every weekend.

And she knows that he can get her off with his tongue again, that he's done it many times before — but she's glad that he somehow knows that isn't good enough for her tonight.

Jean pops off her, his chin glistening under the yellowish bathroom lighting. "I need to be inside you now, Mikasa," he murmurs. And she frantically nods, lifts up his shirt as he unbuttons his pants and frees his hardened cock from his boxers. He absentmindedly pumps his erection a few times before he positions himself at her entrance, his head bumping her sensitive clit and making her gasp.

When he finally slides into her, so easily because she's soaked and because they've done this dance before, Mikasa sighs, relieved and full. She wants to sink into the sensation of Jean fucking her senseless — needs to feel like her whole body is being consumed, like she's losing all of her in someone else — so she appreciates when Jean cups the back of her head and thrusts into her roughly. All traces of a gentleman gone.

"Fuck, Mikasa, you feel so good, you take me so well," he mutters nonsensically into her hair.

And Mikasa wordlessly whines her assent, wraps her legs around him tightly as he bucks into her. The cold bathroom counter cuts into the back of her thighs, and she nearly falls backward into the mirror — saved only by Jean's strong hands holding her neck and back up.

He moves his hand from her back to the space between them. And Mikasa purrs in appreciation, as he deftly works his thumb on her and continues to thrust into her.

"'M close," she mumbles, as she digs her nails into his clothed shoulders and buries her nose in his long hair. He smells like smoke from the fire pit and cheap cologne. The scent is familiar, yet stifling — but it's not enough to distract her from reaching her peak, as she comes again, screams loudly and directly into Jean's ear.

In her post-coital fog, she knows he finishes too, pulls out of her and releases on her bare thighs. Some of his cum spurts on her skirt that they forgot to remove in their haste, and Jean apologizes, reaches for some paper towels to help clean her up as they both catch their breath.

She hears him muttering, sorries and sweet nothings as he wipes between her legs and nuzzles her ear. But she can't fully register what he's saying. There's a buzzing in her ear, and her vision is hazy.

She blames the tequila, blames the lime — but, despite the fact that the room is bathed in yellow, all she sees is green.

#jeankasa #aot smut #jean kirstein smut #mikasa ackerman smut #cup of joe ☕️ #from my fics #rival gang au

[alamwamal]

Thoughts on Levi’s feelings for Petra

An analysis of Levi and Mikasa's interaction in chapter 30, and how Mikasa's feelings parallel Levi's.

Warnings: mentioning of Eremika and mediocre English.

1) Mikasa’s feelings for Eren are romantic: I think that at this point it’s been established that Mikasa’s feelings for Eren are romantic. But what matters here is that it’s also obvious to other characters even strangers. We will just need Ian’s example.

When Mikasa glares daggers at Ian and nearly attacks his team for wanting to abandon Eren and end the mission, Ian deduces that Mikasa is not just a comrade of Eren’s and that he might be her "lover” (Koibito), to which Mikasa denies saying he’s family. * It’s funny how Ian says don’t thank me, I was just scared of you.😂

2) Mikasa showing the same face -death glares- towards Levi, twice! One for beating up Eren at the court, the other one in this chapter!

Although Levi refers to her as Eren’s friend (najimi), I think that Levi realized that to Mikasa, Eren is not just a friend, not only as it’s the second time, but also because he adds "I see.. " after a passing thought.

3) Levi’s following expression: as you can see we're shown a shocked and sorrowful expression from Levi. It's understandable since his comrades just died. However, I think that by tying this to the previous point, one could assume that realizing Mikasa's motives put the salt on the new wound that is losing Petra. especially if you consider:

a) the context: Levi’s reaction came after he recalled Mikasa’s lashing out in court and realizing her true motive. I think it’s noteworthy that his face changes while he was facing her.

b) Mikasa's resistance and desperate hope that Eren is alive is parallels Levi’s panic earlier, when he was racing between the trees towards his team’s bodies, hoping that anyone -perhaps, someone- will be alive, until he finally reaches Petra’s body.

c) Mikasa’s reaction: after seeing Levi’s expression, Mikasa’s face immediately softens and changes from her outrage at Levi into a concerned or perhaps sympathizing one, if only for a moment.

4) This is pure hypothetic but we have the scene with Petra’s father reading between the lines in his daughter’s message and considering the possibility of marriage. Levi would still feel guilty about the death of anyone from his team that had faith in him, so its completely unnecessary to bring the topic of marriage to Levi. Her father could have just said that he’s worried about her safety as she’s still young and stubborn, and Levi would still feel guilty, only with a less shocked face perhaps.

Still, it's worth mentioning that Levi made three horrified expressions this chapter, two of them concerned Petra. The first when he found her body and the other when her father talked to him. I don't think it's a stretch to assume that the the expression he made in front of Mikasa was also about Petra.

**************

Finally, I want to make it clear that in no way I’m saying that they were in a relationship, I have a theory on the romances in SnK being chaste, so if someone likes a girl. They will ask for her hand and marry her -something both are not ready for considering their jobs. I think this theory lines up with the way romance is handled in SnK.

So all in all, I find it plausible that their feelings were mutual, unfortunately, Petra left so soon. And she deserved better. 🧡

#rivetra #i hope that makes sense #I'm sorry but this is my last rivetra post don't follow #you can unfollow if you followed for rivetra only #it's 3am I'm tired #no one really knows what isayama thinks #think of it as headcanon or a theory #🧡 #snk me

[anlian-aishang]

Tags: levi ackerman x reader, mutual pining [coworkers] to smut, only one bed, non-sexual spitting, alcohol mention, reader wears levi’s shirt, cunnilingus, penetration, modern AU, fem!reader Word count: 10,000 A/N: thank you to @lostinwildflowers for betaing this! Birch is one my writing idols, so I am truly honored. I hope you enjoy <3

This can’t be happening.

Unknowingly, the two of you shared a silent sentiment. After a late taxi, long lines of airport security, and racing to the terminal only to be delayed for several hours, the cherry on the shit sundae - as he would put it - was the midnight arrival to a hotel with only one bed.

“You’re sure?”

The look on the nervous teenager’s face conveyed the answer before he even uttered the question. Still, Levi knew he had to ask, audibly enough for you to hear - just so you would know that he did. In the face of liability, you had to acknowledge that he had tried his best.  

“I’m really sorry, sir.” Their eyes were darting in panic between you and Levi as if you were the antidote to this angry customer. But he wasn’t angry, at least, not at them. Wasn’t the brat’s fault that Erwin booked the wrong room. “I have that in the afternoon of September the 15th, E. Smith booked a single king bed for one adult guest.”

“Two adult guests.”

They shared a lengthy eye contact. From the background, you watched their miscommunication unfold and cringed with secondhand embarrassment. You nearly burst into nervous laughter when they shrugged, “I can provide you with extra complimentary toiletries.”

At his sides, Levi unclenched his fists in defeat, “...We’ll manage.”

The plastic key cards made a satisfying sound as the receptionist slid them across the marble countertop - equal and opposite to the dissatisfaction on Levi’s face. In one smooth motion, he handed you your copy while simultaneously whipping out his cell phone. Two clicks - speed dial and call. Two rings - Erwin answered.

You couldn’t hear the other end, but you had your guesses.

Hello?

“You fucked up.”

Sorry?

“As you should be.”

For what? 

“Stuffing two adults in one bed, what made you think we’d appreciate that accommodation?”

Given the looks you’ve been giving each other at the office, I thought you might. 

Levi violently snapped his phone closed in hopes you couldn’t hear that. Thrusting his phone in his pocket, he used his free hand to snatch luggage from yours. “Give me that.” 

A kind gesture, but irritation in his voice made it confusing. You thought to grab it back and insist that you could handle it, but instead, held your tongue. Clearly, he was steaming. Any objection, even a well-intended one, you doubted it would better his mood. Walking towards the lift, you concluded that nothing you had to say would supply ice to his ire. Though, the walk, time, and your calming presence, seemed to be working, you thought as you watched him delicately pad the UP button. 

In the intimacy of the elevator, Levi allowed himself one venting word, “Idiot.” He sighed, placed his thumb and pointer finger on each of his temples, and rubbed wrinkles into his skin. “As if we haven’t already been through enough.”

Today and long before, the two of you had been through plenty together. Tonight was the first time you would pin it on Erwin. All other times, it had been your own selves and each other to blame. 

He loved the way you looked in those small pencil skirts and see-through tights, but he hated what it did to him. Meetings in which he could only stare, absorbing nothing. In the middle of a phone call, when you walked by, he would forget its purpose and stammer aimlessly. Nights kept awake, staring at his ceiling, a blank canvas for projecting his wandering thoughts: how you would look with the skirt yanked up and the tights pulled down, how you took your outfit off after work, and if you wanted his help with that. 

Countless times, you had cursed the man you crushed on. The way he ran his fingers through his hair when overworked made you want to try it yourself, to take his stressors away - or better yet - serve as the relief to them. On hot days, he loosened his top button. On lucky days, the top two. On his way out the door, he would tug his tie out from under his collar, creating a loop wide enough for you to slip your hand through and use it to pull his lips to yours - or so you imagined. Each day, Levi had fed you tastes. Over time, your craving for him had grown unbearable. 

Ultimately, this out-of-town assignment was a test, and a final exam at that. Years of studying one another were culminating in one night, on one bed. The chime of the elevator interrupted your thoughts as if it was a warning: ground yourself. The plain of Levi’s expression and calm in his pace on the way to room 845 echoed its sense: he was unriled, uninterested. 

Your read was wrong. Levi was thankful that you trailed him: with his back to you, you could not see his rouge tint, the bite of his lip, or the twitch of his cheek. As he pressed his key to the reader, held the heavy hotel door, and slugged both of your belongings atop the desk and dresser, you admired the way he moved so suavely - when actually, he considered his motions stiff, careful, and calculated. 

Neither of you bothered to turn on the light. Taxed bodies, tired eyes, and tempted temperaments shared a desire to finally climb in bed. No need to delay things any longer. Levi unzipped his suitcase, the sound garnered your attention. Immediately, you noticed now neatly he had packed, admired his organization and pristine folds, then planned that when it came your time to unpack, you would aim to shield your messy methods from the clean freak’s vision.

A gray cotton tee - matching his eyes, black sweatpants - same shade as his hair. A navy canvas travel bag topped the pile. Levi leaned effortlessly against the white bathroom door and stated, “I’ll change in here.”

You nodded vehemently, as if he had ordered you on an important mission, “I’ll be out here.” 

Cute. And at that intrusive thought, he silently ducked away. 

Unbuckling his belt, tugging his zipper, freeing his legs from his slacks, Levi tipped his head back against the wall and sighed. Every muscle in his body finally untensed, he was set free from one cage of many. His business-casual confines had been done away with. Now, he just had professionalism, work relationships, and his fucking hormones to maintain. 

His boxer briefs were agitatingly taut, struggling to constrain years’ worth of tension in their cotton threads. Levi looked down to his lap and cursed himself. Hovering around thirty, yet all the composure of a fresh young bachelor. Gradually, Levi hooked his thumb beneath the elastic waistband and loosened just a little, allowing him room to breathe. Too much room maybe as the chill thermostat air contrasted harshly with his warmed passion and drew a loud hiss. Levi clenched his teeth hard in an attempt to bar his vocals, praying to whatever power that you wouldn’t knock on the door and call Levi, you alright? It was just the kind of person you were, and Levi had come to know you well. 

That anxiety turned out to be false, for your ears were ringing: ignorant of his desires, overwhelmed by your own. Gingerly, you unzipped your luggage and fret at the sight: a little black nightgown with lace on the hems. Its sight hit you like a load of bricks, lightning to the thunderous memory of your midnight, sleep-deprived, frantic packing. That woman was giddy for the business trip with her office crush and, in that frenzy, picked her sexiest pajamas for the special occasion. Goddammit! If only you knew that he wouldn’t be seeing it from across the room as a tease, he would be sleeping next to it, maybe even feeling it if one of you crossed your half of the mattress. Cursing yourself, you dug frantically in search of something - anything - else to wear to bed, but were rudely met with only pantsuits and blouses. You bunched your nightgown in your trembling fists, but its thinness and shortness allowed it to fit wholly in your hands - foiling your coping strategy. All you could do was tip your head back and sigh to the ceiling, Fuck me.

That feeling echoed when you draped it over yourself and saw your reflection in the hotel window. Your hair was disheveled from the long day. Makeup smeared and ran down your face, eyeliner to eyeshadow. Wrinkles in your silk dress. Looks like you were already fucked. 

On the other side of the door, Levi was thinking the same thing: he was absolutely fucked. His erection stood high after minutes of waiting. Cold water splashed on his face, but his fever seemed to evaporate it. Trying to think about humbling topics, but he couldn’t get you off his mind. To make his arousal vanish, there was one thing he could do, but there wasn’t enough time for that. Even if the shower were running, Levi doubted that the downpour of water would be able to suppress the noises of slapping skin or his embarrassingly heightened vocals. Fuck. Levi clutched the bathroom countertop and sighed at his reflection. His exhale fogged the mirror just before he hung his head down and conceded. God, help me. 

His prayers ignored, you ended up knocking on the bathroom door eventually: “Levi?”

Every nerve in his body froze. He stammered more times than he would have liked before managing a stern “What?”

“Sorry! I just -” humiliated heat seemed to radiate off of you, “- take your time, I just -”

Half listening, half panicking, Levi seemed not to pay mind to your take your time - stepping into his joggers and throwing on his shirt as fast as he could.

“- can I brush my teeth?”

You were startled when his response was a quick and loud turn of the handle, wordlessly letting you in. Levi was surprised to see you the way you were: temptress dress with a toothbrush and toothpaste innocently perched in each hand. The eye contact lasted for three seconds, but you could have sworn that it was that many years long. 

The twitch of your hands and your heart’s lofty goals placed a dollop of toothpaste twice as big as you normally would. Had to have perfect breath, just in case. Not even just in case, you were going to lay beside him - mere inches away - for the next several hours. In those seconds of pondering, gravity began to spill your toothpaste off the bristles and towards the pristine marble vanity. With haste, you jammed the toothbrush into your mouth, causing you to gag on your device. 

Levi felt his erection press against his waistband and rolled his eyes at his own stupid urges. You assumed that eye roll was for you and offered an innocent grin. Not so innocent, however, was your curiosity. His t-shirt was tight, leaving little to the imagination. One arm’s reach from an array of muscles, you kept your eyes deliberately on the mirror ahead. However, your doppelganger had a mind of her own apparently, gaze falling from eye contact and onto his chest, waist, abdomen. Without even having to turn his head, Levi could see your staring, obviously more obvious than you thought it would be. With your attention on his lower half, Levi allowed himself a smirk. 

Such a silly thing, but was this the first time you brushed your teeth next to someone? This handful of minutes was inexplicably romantic, oddly domestic. Pajamas, double sinks, and the end of a long day. You had been coworkers, acquaintances, and unknowingly requited lovers, but for this one moment, you were husband and wife. 

White toothpaste lined the gap between his top and bottom lip, and for some reason, you felt your knees buckle. Levi ducked down to spit, a polite attempt to hide it. Your eyes rejected his offer, instead widening as your pupils honed in on the sight. Leaning forward ever so slightly, you savored yet loathed the way his rejection ran down the pipe. What a waste. 

Levi sheathed his toothbrush back in its protective case, a neat freak through and through, and slid it back into his tote. Sifting through, he stumbled upon a mini bottle of mouthwash, making him freeze with indecision: added freshness at the cost of spitting in front of you again? He felt that once had already been rude enough. Levi shot you a side-eye and made an unexpected eye contact: he was trying to read you, you were already staring. Mutually miscommunicated guilt, both of you felt you had been caught and snapped back to aversion. 

It came your turn to rinse your mouth, and he couldn’t help it. Levi could have blamed his peripheral vision, could have blamed the bright lights that lined the mirror, but hard-pressed, he could not come up with an excuse for why he watched you then. The streak of white that shot out of your mouth, its wake dribbling down your lips. Goddammit, you cursed your clumsiness and hastily wiped your mess with a washcloth. He knew it as well as you did: he should have been grossed out. Only Levi realized, though, how much he liked it, he was just too ashamed to admit it. 

Though his arousal screamed, his lips stayed silent. There was a time and place.

Was there? You’ve worked together for how long? All those years, they never had a time or place?

A long inhale, a slow exhale, his fingers curled underneath the cold countertop, hoping its chill would thwart the flush of his chest. Fuck how badly he wanted to kiss you then, to thumb that white stain off your chin and into his mouth, to clutch the backs of your thighs and hoist you onto that vanity. Your waist in his hands, your sex in line with his -

“Levi?”

“Yeah?”

His rapid response, you mistook it as anger. While the voice on his shoulder was lust, yours was insecurity. Surely, you’re the last straw. Having to share a bed with a dork like you? He’s had a tough day. Don’t make him endure this.

“Do you want me to take the floor?”

A dumbbell dropped to the pit of his stomach. Of course not, but for you to bring it up, he must have been hasty to assume that you would share the bed. Levi grit his teeth, annoyed with his lofty goals. Two slow blinks, “I can.”

That was the last thing you wanted. “N-No… I don’t - I don’t mean…” Your lips parted in stammer. Eyes darted as if the tile walls would whisper you the answer. For a moment, you cursed the beautiful neutrality of his face: impossible not to love, but impossible to read. His stillness was contagious, though, and brought you to settle on an answer, “I’ll meet you under the sheets.”

Ears burned red as they checked: was that selective hearing or was that what you really said? Before his eyes could study you, you turned on your heel and closed the door shut.

Once again, on opposite sides of the door, your sentiment was shared: Phew. 

He took a few minutes after that. When he finally walked out, he found that you had been lotioning your legs over that time. Dim glow of the bedside lamp reflected on your smooth skin. If not for the way he had come to know you, to respect and appreciate you, this sight could have been the cover of some sketchy magazine. Eagerness glazed your eyes. Your hands had been massaging your inner thighs, now a perfect shield for the gem between your legs. Levi gave the slightest shake of his head, not disapproval, but disbelief. How did you manage such effortless perfection?

Was that not everything about you, though? The most minute smile in meetings. Biting your lip when you were bored. A laugh so beautiful that it served as its own positive reinforcement, beckoning others to amuse you again. Were you the one? 

Or was it the eyes of your beholder? Maybe you weren’t perfect, maybe that’s why you were in his eyes. Despite all the signs of your singlehood - never in a rush to get home, never a mention of a date - he never truly believed it. It was a war of his flawless intuition and steep infatuation. Either you were the one for him, or he had been wrong all these years. 

Get in the bed, idiot. 

His stride was steady, captivating, as he made his way to the side of the bed. In habit, Levi crossed his arms across his torso, prepared to lift up, but caught himself halfway. No, he would not be sleeping shirtless tonight. Neither would he sleep in his loose and breathable boxer shorts, but instead, stifling fleece. Already, for one reason or another, he was sweating. Upon approach, the layers upon layers of sheets, blanket, and comforter looked even more suffocating. He caught a glimpse of the thermostat, but then of you, and found your skin laden with goosebumps. Lips rolled beneath his teeth, bargaining, but he could not bring himself to turn the AC up while your body temperature was down. Just as strongly, he refused to do anything that might make you uncomfortable, like taking off his clothes, no matter how badly he wanted to. More words would have served you both well, tearing down the artificial barrier your doubts were constructing. 

Can I take this off? 

I would love nothing more.

But you were both stupid to imagine that dialogue.

Levi slowly reclined back, sighing as he sunk into the sheets. Already, his skin was burning. He combed his fingers back through his bangs and released a heavy sigh. A heavenly trial, you read it as a hellish endurance, and instinctually apologized, “...I’m sorry about this.”

You have nothing to be sorry for, Levi pondered the response, but deemed it too much. Instead, he feigned a disinterested mumble, “It’s Erwin’s fault.”

You, on the other hand, indulged your gut feeling, “He’s done worse.”

Levi huffed a single exhale, his version of a chuckle.

You turned on your side. He loved that you chose to face him rather than the wall. He hated that he even thought of that. You were so close, he could feel the mattress dip between you, could feel your breath cool against his skin. Eyes fluttering shut, your voice was either sultry or exhausted, a glass-half-full kind of thing. “Good night, Levi.”

Fuck, what a fight, battling the urge to kiss you then and there. Your eyes sparkling, noses nearly touching, he had sworn that this was how all the shitty romcoms went, but he failed to find anything lackluster about this scene. His lips yearned to close that distance, arms ached to perch themselves at your sides. Levi redirected that energy to his hands, fisting the comforter hard as he draped it gently over your shoulders, “Night, (Y/N).”

But how were you going to sleep like this? Although you were running off a 20-hour day, you felt that sleep would be a waste. Queueing for tickets to see your favorite artist, only to close the window the moment your turn came. Styling your hair just to go and get it cut straight after. Champagne dumped down the drain. Mentally, it was an unbearable thought. Physically, your body was even more resistant to the idea. Your middle was fucking throbbing. Nipples stood tall against their skimpy silk covering as if reaching for more contact, his contact. Legs squirmed against one another, trying to smother the burn between them, but you willed them frozen: don’t wake him up. 

In your best state of mind, you would have recalled the symptoms of his insomnia: always a tall thermos of caffeine on his desk, perpetual circles under his eyes, especially the times you both worked late. On your way out, you would peek through the pane of glass on his door to wave good-bye. Now and then, he would be hunched over his desk, imprints of the keyboard on his cheek - a makeshift pillow for his crash naps. With a shred of thought, you would have realized he was likely already awake, but you were incapable of even that. It was midnight when you crawled into the king bed. Red digits at your side now read 1:40 AM, yet you knew that not one of those one-hundred minutes had been spent in sleep. Coffee in the morning, nerves on the plane, hormones now, you had left composure back at your apartment and you weren’t sure you’d get it back at any point of this business trip. I mean shit, you swore, this was only the first night.

Only the first night. One of many sure to come, right? How many nights had he gone to bed alone, kept awake with longing of having you by his side? How many mornings had he woken himself up with a sleepy mumble of your name, only to find one half of his bed empty? It couldn’t all be for nothing. Now that he was sharing the bed with you, it was all he ever wanted, yet you were still out of reach. Uncharacteristic, the most reliable man you knew was spiraling in thought. 

But to you, it would make sense: the only one who could bring Levi Ackerman down was none other than himself. He saw it a different way: you were the only one who could dismantle him like this.

You could feel his heat emanating, could see his sweat reflecting. Before you could stop yourself, your affection had boiled over, “Levi…” your voice was hoarse, having gone hours without as much as a whisper, and unexpectedly loud. His silver gaze drifted to you, depleting the last of your reserves, you mused, “...you’re hot.”

A statement, not a question. In near pitch blackness, he allowed himself a rare smirk. Levi waited until it faded to turn towards you. 

You pinched the hem of his shirt in your fingertips, nails accidentally scraped his abdomen on the way. “Want this off?” You tugged lightly, “I don’t mind.”

At the same time, you shivered, and Levi filled in the blanks to ground his wandering mind. “Cold?” His hands brushed yours on the way to the bottom of the garment. Levi bunched fists in his fabric and lifted it effortlessly up, over, off his head - as he wanted to do all those hours ago. Pent-up relief, he thrust his shirt to you and offered, “Could’ve just asked.”

You were right all along. All along, those loose button-up shirts had covered a chiseled body. He must have been curling with arms like that. A pull-up bar on the back of his bedroom door, how many repetitions did it take to get these muscles? Your eyes scanned every inch of him but could find not one flaw. Your lips were moving, but words failed to emerge. There were a million things you wanted to say to him, to tell him, but only one came through. You received his gift gingerly and muttered, “Thanks.”

This was a moment you had distantly fantasized over for years. Turns out, this was even better than you dreamed. His shirt carried a garden of mint, lavender, and tea leaves in its scent. In putting it on, you felt that you gained a glimpse into Eden. The fabric was satin soft and sheer thin. In watching you wear it, Levi felt in the presence of an angel. It highlighted the curves he loved and introduced him to ones he had never noticed before. Brows narrowed, pupils dilated in his gaze - concerned and deviant. The straight cut forced your waist and hips to confine. The small-pattern chest was clearly never meant to accommodate a body like yours. Threads were spread taut by your cleavage, nearly torn apart as they strained to cover you. In his eyes, he thought it fit you perfectly. 

Arms finally through the sleeves. Beneath them, your hairs stood on end. Again, you shivered, but could not pinpoint why. It did not take the shiver, though, to convey your state. Your erect points stood above all. Levi looked to you with both pity and admiration, his voice their lovechild: “Look at you.”

You simmered, embarrassed yet teasing, “Looking isn't helping.” You crossed your arms before your chest and bundled yourself together, “If you really care -”

He did.

“- then do something about it.”

Unfolding the quilt from the foot of the bed, turning up the room’s temperature - those were the most straightforward solutions. But Levi was not thinking straight, and he had a feeling that was what you wanted. Slowly, Levi sifted his arm behind your shoulders, when you snuggled in, he sealed his wrap with a hand at your side. 

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

His gaze descended to meet yours. Likewise, you raised your gaze to meet. Painfully aware that this was a first for the both of you - neither his passion nor your arousal would shut up about it. At the same time, watching you shiver reminded him of all the times he had silently substituted your needs. Behind on work, you never asked for assistance, but would hurriedly throw things his way if Levi offered his help. When your car wouldn’t start that one winter day, who knows how long you would’ve paced in the parking lot had he not pulled his sedan beside yours and given you a jump? A sharp pang seized his heart in realization: he thought you were close, and now you were physically there, yet you still were not comfortable enough to ask him for anything - even though you both wanted it.

“Y’know,” his thumb rubbed your shoulder, “you should learn to just ask for what you want.” 

Indeed, 2 AM haze was shrouding his awareness, too - particularly his self-awareness. Was it not him who steeped your tea in the mornings and tidied your desk before he left each night? He could have - should have - just asked you out all those times. How much sooner would this night have come if he had? Levi swore to live without regrets, but that did not stop him from acknowledging the opportunities he had missed thus far. He tossed you the takeaway he wished he had learned long ago: “Makes things a lot easier.”

At first, you thought he was chastising you. The stern monotone of his voice could chill you to the bone at times, but when you took in his expression, you felt warm all over. His brows were not knit, but perched in a tender lift. His breaths were not terse, like when he got annoyed, but slow and calm. At the same time, though, you could feel his heart pounding hard, could hear it when you placed your ear over his chest. Clouded moonlight softened those hardlined features, and again, you wondered if this was your first night together or actually your honeymoon: wasn’t this kind of pillow talk reserved for spouses alone?

A deep swallow, and the last time you checked yourself. Could he have looked any more genuine? Any more readable? Transparent? You didn’t think so. For the man of few words, this was all but an admission of his feelings for you, and it was the best look you had ever seen on him. His advice, his command, invited you to try that outfit on.

“Practice with me?”

One slight nod, so slight - you knew no one would have noticed it but you. In that, you felt your confidence soar, pulling the words from your heart to the air between you both, “Hold me tighter?”

He did.

“Pull me closer?”

He did.

“And kiss me already.”

Levi could not describe it, the feeling that overcame him when he heard your demand. Proud of you. Relieved. At peace yet exhilarated. The serenity that all was right in the world, yet the anticipation of what he had wanted all along. The nature of the kiss aligned with the latter. For two agonizing seconds, he examined you. Assured by the sight of your smile, he longed to taste it for himself. Thumb pressed to the curve of your chin, index finger perched under it, slowly yet with unwavering passion - that was the way Levi brought your lips together. 

Soft, as he expected. Expert, as you had. Initial contact was delicate, the warmup slow. Levi always went so hard at everything he did, held such a sharp tongue, which was why the way he brushed against you made your heart stop. You knew strength to be his greatest, most innate feature, and therefore you deciphered that this tenderness was a display of exertion. Levi showed no signs of struggle, though. Touch-starved for you, yet his lips chose to waltz rather than tango. His hand on your chin drifted to the back of your neck. Nape cupped in his palm, he used that leverage to drift you here and there, allowing him to taste all of you - encouraging you to do the same with him. 

Levi tasted like peppermint, the brand so sharp that it made you sneeze now and then, he had learned after enough lunch breaks. You tasted like cinnamon, the stick that baristas stuck in his chai come the colder months. When your tongues met, they created a new taste. After minutes of exchange, they became addicted to it. Their craving demanded all efforts in that search: Levi’s grip pulled you closer, you threw an arm over his back. Breaths turned to gasps, a wordless understanding of all you would do for the other: grab his mail on the way in, walk you to your car at night, and kiss until you were out of breath.

The thought had never crossed your mind, but his actions disintegrated it - the possibility that this was some selfish, opportunistic spell. Levi was nearly shaking with anticipation, his erection pained with neglect, but that did not influence his pace. Each time you thought the makeout might end, he would catch his breath with “pretty girl…” before joining you once again. His kiss was lovely, as was the spark at your middle, but his ardor was gas to your flame, and before you knew it, you were ablaze. You found your body rise against his, pushing off the mattress, and rolling to grind against the friction of his rigid figure. Levi was everything you ever wanted, and maybe you were just that desperate or just that greedy - the fact that you needed more. He wouldn’t have you any other way.

You thought twice before breaking from the kiss, one last deep plunge of your tongue to his throat before pulling away, conscious to savor the taste. “Levi…” you sighed.

A string of saliva hung between you, the clean freak calmly closed his fist over it, and you felt yourself shudder again, “can we keep practicing?”

His lips were one degree north of flat, about as big of a smile as anyone would see on Ackerman. Tonight, just the two of you here, it felt inexplicably, particularly special. “Make love to me.”

An advanced learner, you always went the extra mile. Back then, Levi had no doubt, it was the reason you had been promoted so quickly. Now, it was that you had aced the first lesson and jumped to the next: no longer asking, demanding already. Sentimental was not a feeling he knew, but proof that you were this comfortable with him was indeed something. 

His praise reflected that feeling back onto you, “That’s right, good girl.” The back of his hand brushed unruly strands from your face. A kiss on your forehead rewarded, “like that.”

Once more, he pressed his lips to yours, but it was not even a second that he stayed - just a starting point to the journey that was exploring your body. Lips slid to the corner of your mouth, down your jawline, neck, then chest. A trail of hickeys and teeth grazes was left - tomorrow’s meetings and your professionalism having vanished from his mind. His hands joined the excursion: one gentle yet relishing in its caress of your neck, the other crawled up your - his - shirt. The familiar texture of his old garment contrasted with the novel feel of your skin. Muscles twitched with satisfaction, disrupting the fluidity of his motions, but you found beauty in the unpredictability of his touch. Rose-colored lenses were blind to the signs of his weakness, instead chalking those movements up to Levi’s expertise. As you tipped your head back and sighed, Levi figured it was the first misunderstanding that had done you two any good tonight. 

On his descent, he could not help but take a stop at your breasts. Turns out, it was never just his imagination, but given your curvature, of course your buttons would have been stretched to contain you. Those blouses had been his guilty favorite for that very reason, but his tight t-shirt was taking a close second. No, that slip you wore when you joined him in the bathroom, that must’ve been the best, right? Blood rushed, pupils dilated, his body anxious for a visual refresher.

You were going faster than he could have hoped. Already, he was proud of you for having graduated to demands. Now, you had learned to act on your own - either having read his mind or listening to your own desires. Levi could not decide which possibility he preferred, but when you lifted your top and perched it at your clavicle, he was ashamed to admit that his mind had discarded all other affairs. 

Levi nestled his cheek in your cleavage, and though you were over a thousand miles away, he felt he was at home. Warm pillows cupped him, and both of you felt that the space was made for him to fill. Levi’s breath was hot on your skin, yet your nipples appeared as though you were in a winter wilderness. Of course, he took notice in all your details, and sighed in mutual enamor, “Fuck, baby…” 

It was a tone you had never heard in his voice before. Desperation and desire in a man so ever assured and disinterested, you felt your panties drip from damped to soaked. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You, too, was what you thought to say, but somehow, the word seemed inadequate. His body was artwork: a symmetric abdomen, muscular forearms, veins that stood against his skin, you longed to trace him as such. Bangs that fell perfectly imperfectly over his face, begging that you run your fingers through them: mess with them now, gel them straight in the morning. You could slice paper on that jawline, could get lost in his eyes. No matter how long you stared, and stared you had, Levi was like the sunset: even after a hard day, always breathtakingly gorgeous.

Especially with the perspective you had now. One hand cupped your waist, the other your breast, perching you into his mouth, eye contact deliberately maintained throughout his movements.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Levi’s tongue swirled your nipple before his lips audibly slurped. “To get what you want…” 

Again, the fog of the nameless hours between night and day had blinded him to the relevance his words had to himself. How long had he wanted this? How good did it feel? He had no verbal answer for it, only the fervor of his actions: sprightly tongue and rocks of his hips. As you always had, you filled his gaps: while he could not fathom the words, yours overflowed. 

“Oh, Levi… Fuck, Levi…!” your desperate cries of his name made him leak onto the hotel sheets, no longer pristine. Your harsh exhales ran currents through his hair, and suddenly, it seemed you two had traded temperatures. Now, he was the one shivering while you sweat through the shirt. For his fever, he craved one antidote. Crawling down your body, his approach to the medicine cabinet. He prepared to ask for his dosage.

“My turn.”

Huh? 

You propped yourself up on your elbows and took a good look. A good look: Levi had wedged himself between your legs. Fingers caressed your thighs with a precise pressure, a touch that tickled in a way that made you want more, yet was strong enough that he could push your hips to the mattress and pry your legs apart. You had to bunch your fists and rub your eyes to check, maybe 3 AM was just fucking with you. 

Levi read your search for reassurance and inserted conviction into his tone. His stare and voice unwavering, “Can I taste you?”

Yeah, 3 AM was definitely fucking with you, for this was too good to be true. His sharp chin dwindled above the soft of your sex. His gaze set on your soul. Both of you agreed: his hands had never felt so calloused until they met your smooth thighs. It was a dream you would have woken up thankful to have had bestowed on you, but the grip he had on you was so perpetually undeniable: this was real. Head spinning, mind raced to catch up, yet Levi’s wait was so astonishingly still. Levi knew he would make you feel good. Based on your state, it seemed he was already doing that. Now, you just had to say yes, but he would not push you towards any one answer, nor would he do anything more until you arrived at it. If you wanted it, you had to ask for it, sweetheart.

A flood of thoughts swirled in your mind, each one screaming over the other, you felt you were drowning. In your search for stability, you relied on your sense of sight: Levi Ackerman between your legs. What the fuck are you waiting for? 

“Y’Yes, Levi.” You reached down and held his forehead. As you brushed his bangs from his face, he offered another half-smile, but it was brief, for he was past the point of eager. Still, the calm in his pace remained. Slowly, his hands snaked from the backs of your thighs to the sides of your hips. Thumbs hooked between the straps of your panties and your skin. His fingers clenched over them, bringing the garment past your knees, down your shins, and off your ankles. From chest to toes, you were now entirely exposed. At first, you wrangled with embarrassment, but his infatuation was your comfort. Hunger seized his vision, thirst drove his actions. You had nothing to be afraid of. 

His earlier route, lips to neck, neck to chest, chest to torso, was now mirrored. Levi cupped your heels in his hand and lifted your feet, allowing him to plant kisses up and up your legs, drags of his tongue followed to connect the dots. Minutes gone by, and even after having pocketed your consent, he still had yet to put his mouth there. Spending time to appreciate your thighs, he wanted you to know how long he had been anticipating this, and now that he had finally landed his spot, he would be damn sure to save the best bite for last. 

Left arm wrapped around your thigh, Levi nestled his head against it, allowing his perspective to stay sound on your sex. His right hand trailed from your knee to your middle, and at last, you knew he was getting started. At first, it was his fingertips, and at that mere first touch came your sudden awakening as to how dire your desire had grown. Your hands flew back and clutched your pillow, Levi admired the tendons that rose in your wrist, and your voice, “A’Ahh!!” 

He shot one glance up to check on you, but the look on your face ensured you were more than okay. With that, he decided to repeat the pattern of his rubs. Index and middle finger paired as they rode the sliver between your lips, your arousal slickened his knuckles. Once wet enough, he would split his digits into a V, each one taking responsibility for one of your folds. When that friction ran dry, he would return to your core, a seemingly never-ending source of lubrication, to run the process back again. You should not have been surprised, for everything with him was purposed - in the office or in the bedroom. With your interior and exterior in a coat of your own clear, he would have the freedom to run his mouth, no need to lick his lips or garner more saliva. Years of anticipation, now that the moment had arrived, he was going to spend the extra seconds to make sure this went according to plan.

Your glisten was so thorough, looking at you, Levi swore he could see his own weak reflection, the blush on his cheeks, the sweat on his forehead. In that way, his plunge was accelerated: preferring to trade the sight of his unruly state for the taste of you. Lips circled to match your curves, and you quickly identified this as a familiar feeling in an unfamiliar place. Levi was kissing you with the same tenderness he had displayed in your makeout, only now, he was between your legs. His jaw stretched wide to ensure he could reach every inch, from the top of your cleft, along your crescent sides, and to the spot where they rejoined. With his mouth in control, he let his hands indulge in your body, adorned upon your delectable waist, light squeezes of your ass, and massaging the divots of your inner thighs. His lips practiced that motion with a goal of perfection. Meanwhile, his tongue distracted you from any signs of his learning. Slow, purposed drags from bottom to top made your love pool on the tip of his tongue - each accumulation swallowed with a satisfied groan. Levi’s oral was pristine, only an occasional slurp and smack, allowing both of your vocals to take the stage. Your sky-high gasps, his low and satiated moans. He lived for the moments you would syllabize his name “Le-vi…” His “there you go” always followed, implicitly begging for more.

His neck began to bob in support of his movements. With that came a whole new level of pressure and slate of angles. His sharp nose slanted against your curves, lovely opposite to your soft. Your scent and your taste moved mountains within him, and in that, he noticed: his emotional pull was just as strong as his physical. All his life, he had grown to love bitter tastes, perhaps because they had been force fed to him. You were the first cube of sugar to have landed in his drink. Now, he had honey straight from the source. Levi felt his erection press hard against the mattress, “Fuck…” he whined, “you taste so good.”

Breath caught in your throat, all you could manage was a light sigh. As your lips twitched, he generously helped, taking the words right out of your mouth. “You have no idea…no idea -” Levi moaned, “how fucking long I’ve been waiting for this.”

At those words alone, you felt you might climax right then. Had he been eavesdropping on your dreams? How did he know that you had been fantasizing over that exact sentence for an unspeakable amount of time? “Me - Me too, Levi…” 

Your admission was even sweeter, lifting his feelings from indulgence to fulfillment. All the nights he had spent awake, wondering if you were thinking of him the way he was of you, your confession was confirmation that this had been requited all that time. Levi found it both gratifying and maddening: gratifying to have discovered that your feelings were mutual, maddening how many years had gone by until that discovery. Levi grew determined to make up for all that time, revenge reflected in the acceleration of his actions.

Levi shoved his arms beneath your thighs, lifting you into a shameless, unhideable angle. Good thing, he mused, no more hiding. Shoulders propped at your midthigh, keeping you perched apart. Fingers wrapped around your skin, he pulled you down the bed and crashed you onto his face. Your gasp was exhausted as you tried to keep up. Both of you knew, though: you were no match. As his tongue thrust to unfathomable depths, you likewise could not conjure any idea of how to withstand this. Nose rubbed against your swollen bud, brows narrowed in determination, he looked nearly angry. Working hard for your climax, harder than he had for anything else, even his own. 

Shit…!

If this keeps up…

A telltale tide turned in your tummy, spasms sparkled along your legs. Fingernails pierced the pillowcase, fighting off your impending loss of control. You could not delay it, not unless he - You fisted your hand in his hair, and he thought this was it. Instead, you pushed him away. “L’Le-vi…” a series of rapid pants, “hah, hah, ho’ld… on!” 

His tongue flattened still. Between the vertex of your legs, his steel attention rose to you. Not anxious, but concerned, You alright? 

“I, I want -”

At those words, he once again simmered with pride, thankful you had taken his ask for what you want to heart. After a few more breaths, you managed the minimum composure to plead, “I wanna cum with you.” 

Levi’s first thought was one of generosity, you know you can have - I can give you - more than one, right? But he knew you better, and he knew what you meant. You wanted your first to be with him, and though he was parched with thirst, desperate for the taste of your cum in his mouth, your wants were foremost his. With a deep, patient breath, he watched your twitches slow to still. When the threat of your orgasm vanished, he calmly laid one final kiss to your core, etching your taste into his memory. His silver stare swallowed you down, a mental polaroid of your pose. His palm massaged your sex in physical praise, promising that he would never make you wait again, and that he’d definitely make you cum next time.

He started to ascend back up your body, but you flung yourself forward and met him halfway. Brows arched in shock, his eyes widened briefly, you closed them with another kiss. Mint flavor of before had been washed away by the taste of you. Further evidence of his devotion, you desired to prove that you were just as committed to him. You hooked your elbow to his nape and threaded fingers through his undercut - your turn to pull him here and there, granting yourself the freedom to explore the parts of him that you had always wanted to. Most of all, the length growing harder and harder to ignore. 

Still, you were conscious to withhold your rush. You endeavored to slow your pace so that you could match the one he had performed on you. How good it felt - he deserved to feel it, too. You ran your hands down his chest the way rain slid down a windshield. Levi felt his boxers turn wet when your palms pressed upon his pecs, the buds of your hands kneading his tender patches. His exhales turned crackly, his inhales uneven. Laying kisses on each of his abs, down and down his torso, your contact held the compliments you were too shy to say. He heard them and reciprocated them: arm wrapped around your waist, bruises where his fingertips pressed - he hoped they would stay till morning, and that when you saw them, you would remember the love he had shown you tonight 

Finally, you dipped your fingertips below his waistband. Sweat glazed his hips, allowing you to slide your hands in, but at this point, there was not much room for you. His erection had taken all his threads had to offer. You spared him the begging, sliding his cotton down his outstretched legs and finally releasing him from their confinement. Soaked in his own anticipation, veins visible, his arc steep. The shade of his member matched the one of his cheeks: the pink of a vulnerable blush, the crimson of ardent lust. As he watched you watch him, another dribble of clear dripped down his length. Levi grit his teeth and cursed. From stifling heat to cool air, that drench turned from comforting to exhilarating. In the wake of his tried swears, you gently cupped your hand around his girth and cleaned him as best as you could, spreading the leakage of his tip down to his base - his shaft your path. Contrast to his stress, you soothed him as you always had, just a different context this time. 

It was his turn to cling to the sheets. Hands clawed into the comforter, you watched without shame, enchanted by the way his forearms flexed. Heels ground to the mattress, toes curled in sheets. Each motion was accompanied by either a sharp inhale or short exhale. Was it sadistic or considerate of you to keep pumping him despite that? 

Levi loathed the way he stuttered through your name, on the other hand, you adored it. Levi cupped the back of your head in his hand and tugged your ear to his lips. His breath was hot on your cusp, yet somehow, it sent chills through you. Your sex had landed atop his lap, his cock nestled between your folds, still wet from his prior excursion. Pleasure had him growling, the look in his eyes both commanding and desperate, “Let me take you.”

Obliging and insisting: as one, you leaned back and he pressed forward. Your head landed atop the plump pillow, his hand beside it. Before you could blink, he had plummeted onto your lips again. This kiss was so opposite of all prior: his tongue demanding entrance, grazes of his teeth, and bites of your lip, loud and messy. You had cut Levi Ackerman to his last thread of composure, that was where you had always wanted him.

And this was how he had always wanted you: your most unabashed, honest, purest and filthiest self. He always found it so painfully obvious, how much you strained to stay prim and proper, polite and professional at work. It was why he lived for the times you slipped up: an eye roll in meetings, the long sigh after a conference call. Levi knew that the real you was there, and now you were here: in this shared bed with his shadow cast over your skin. 

There was just one thing, though, that differed from his expectations. Desire was painted on each of your features, but they were glossed in nerves. Twitches in your lip, rattle in your lungs, eyes glistening, he feared they were tears. You cinched your hand around his wrist, and he recognized that smile. It was the kind you donned when you spilled your coffee or showed up late. Adorable, but unassured, and that would not do in this context.

“You’re nervous.” Levi did not ask you, for he knew his intuition was accurate. “Wanna stop?”

You shook your head and insisted vehemently, “No.” With a tilt of your chin and arch of your back, your lips brushed his with each word you spoke. Seeped down his throat, understanding swallowed: “I want to start.”

Levi returned your characteristic smile with one of his own. Tipping your foreheads together, “You’ll let me know if you change your mind.”

An order or a question? Either way, your heart scoffed at the idea. You know how long I’ve been waiting for this? There was no chance in hell you would change your mind.

“Or if it gets too much.”

That, there was a chance of. It had taken him mere minutes between your legs to bring you to the point of screaming and to the brink of climax, but that was what you wanted. His consideration fed you calm, you fed him reassurance. The flicker in your gaze settled, meeting his of solid steel. You tucked his bangs behind his ear and affirmed, “I’m ready, Levi.”

Fronts pressed, heartbeats matching, there was only one connection left to make. By the grips of his hands on the backs of your shoulders, Levi pulled himself those last crucial inches, and closed that final gap. His tip slick with precum, your slit dripping with anticipation, yet accommodating him was no easy fit. He had spent all that time down there with the goal of making it easy on you, but watching your face scrunch and hearing your voice whine was not half bad, either. 

In fact, he had not even made it halfway in yet, and you were already writhing. Levi bit the inside of his cheek and knit his brows, careful not to push you too hard, conscious for signs of your apprehension. You sensed his wavering and clawed his back, pulling yourself further down his length.

Looking up, his expression was strained. Reaching new depths, pushing past your initial walls, his voice poured exertion. Still, he did not stop pushing. Toes arched into the mattress, calves flexed with each labored drive. Each fuck brought the two of you closer. For him, one more inch of his length. For you, one more stretch of pleasure. For the couple, a proximity you had always wanted. Each of you felt a tremendous responsibility to be the one to close that distance.

Repetition after repetition, his muted grunts melted to audible groans. The air between you was no longer saturated by your gasps alone, but his as well. His strain was the only thing that could ground you from nirvana and back down to earth. Despite his squint, he caught that transition: from the throes of sensation to the snap back to reality, all because you were concerned for his well-being. More than any sense of pleasure, your affection was what made his heart pound in his chest. Doe eyes gazed upon him, You okay?

After a series of hahs and ahs, Levi managed just a couple words, “It feels - It feels…”

Good? Bad? Your heart tensed in anticipation. Pleading and ordering, “Tell me, Levi.” 

Knuckles tight, fingers trembling, “...good!” Levi clenched his teeth and pulled himself forward with an aim of backing his words with his actions. After struggling to past your entrance, the force of this fuck brought his tip to your end, drawing shrieks from you and shock from him. Strength of his magnitude had pros and cons, he supposed. His flaws, you deemed them his perfections.

The damp of your cunt was audible, resounding throughout the room. You found yourself at an impossible choice: which was more embarrassing, your voice or your sex? Levi’s thought was similar and opposite, the same choices, just which was better? Levi decided that their symphony was best, and realized he could turn up its volume if he accelerated his pace. 

“Levi, Levi…!” To say his name came naturally, practically a swear word: the satisfaction of cursing after injury or mistake, so wrong yet so right to scream it out loud. 

Pleasurable pain when he hit your weakest points, a delightful exercise as your walls stretched to accommodate him. His eyes remained set on your face, ears tuned to your voice, translating your body language into instructions. Rapid thrusts to make you pant, but only until you started to choke on your own gasps. Then, he would decelerate, replacing speed with strength. When he filled you up, you would sigh and roll your eyes back. To Levi, that was the sign to dial it back up and get you there. 

Since this started, his read on you had been perfectly accurate. You were almost there. Simultaneously yet unknowingly, your inner voices warned: you won’t last much longer. The thing was, you didn’t want to, for you had endured so much already. The heat in your middle was unbearable now. Each nerve had been fried to its last end. This sex had gone on for hours, but your yearning had been years long. In your haze, you were blind towards any reason to deny yourself any longer. You wrapped your legs around his waist and relied on your calves to pull him closer. Bringing him to your end made Levi approach his. “Fuck…!” His voice was a low singsong, an adult lullaby. “(Y/N), (Y/N)...!” No longer a choice between deep or fast, Levi somehow managed both. Physiology threatened to overrule now. No, already…!

“(Y/N), I…I’m - ! ” His mind was racing now. Should he ask to cum or tell you he was? Should he withdraw so that you could get there first? Levi labored to open his eyes, looking to you for an answer. His senses of sight and touch told him: you were already there.

The pulsation around his cock, the steep arch of your spine, your parted lips and blissed-out face. The scrape of your nails down his back, ignorant to the possibility of hurting him. This was how Levi had always wanted it: to be the one you clung to, to offer himself when you were overwhelmed. Count on me. The orgasm that overwhelmed you now, that had been his doing, right?

Once again, it was as if you had read his mind. Without him having to ask, you answered: “Levi, Levi!!” Your hands squeezed him tight, white patches beneath your fingertips. Clinging to him, the life raft through each of your waves. “Y’Yours… I’m yours…” 

He had gifted you tissues for your crying spells at work, had picked up your lunch on the way back from break, but this provision was far preferable, much more fulfilling. Even as you turned his skin red, even as your legs clenched him and squeezed air from his lungs - no, even better - those were precisely the motions that pushed him over the edge. 

One hand clutched the top of the headboard, tight enough that you heard the wood wince. The other caressed your face with feathered tenderness. In that difference, you were once again reminded of his duality: on one hand, a hardass, but for you, a soft spot. Those dimensions were reflected in his voice, too: swears that made your ears burn and groans that turned the air heavy, yet arid gasps that lifted your soul and praise fit for a princess. While your cunt had run raw and slippery from his fucking, his warm cum filled you and soothed your stings. 

As you both came to, Levi lingered inside, patiently waiting until each of your waves crashed - savoring them. With a deep swallow and a delicate nod, he ensured he would handle your aftercare. Kleenex from the nightstand folded and padded against your sex. You sat up in panic, worried about the clean freak’s reaction, but he seemed particularly satisfied. Maybe it wasn’t that he hated filth, but that he loved clean-up. You bit your lip and bit back a smile, believing that the sex tonight had evidenced that.

Though his aftercare was doing much for your affection, it did pathetically little when it came to cleanliness. Both of you realized, not even the entire box would be enough. Levi looked at the wad of tissues in his hand, shook his head, and scowled, nearly laughing at the ineffectiveness. “We’re filthy.” 

Slowly, you made your way to his side. Carefully, you reached your arms around his back. Wrapped within your grasp, you leaned him back against your chest and whispered into his ear, “Good thing there’s a shower.”

Levi spun just enough to meet your eye contact, once again checking to see if he had heard you right. Three hours ago, he would have defaulted towards the no, always having believed one could not be let down if they did not get their hopes up. Over the years and especially tonight, your optimism was swaying that opinion. Your sound smile and unafraid stare confirmed: after all that mess, you were also keen for cleanliness. In post-coital clarity, he saw how stupid he had been to wait this long, and Levi almost said those three sacred words right then and there. 

But this was only the first night of the trip.

And the first day of the rest of your lives.

// masterlist //

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi #levi ackerman #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x y/n #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot x you #snk x you #anlian writes #my writing #alias's #oneshot #2023 #smut #salt and pepper

[mana-sputachu]

For the anon who sent me this:

Tumblr stll gives me hell if I try to post submissions with added text, SO: Those two tweets about Jun’s cooking are real, and unless Harada has removed them you will probably find them on his twitter account still (and also one of the few ideas of his I find funny and decided to add to my headcanons), but as a general rule of thumb: do not fully trust fandom wikis.

These wikis are usually run by fans, and most of the time the informations are fanon stuff that somehow is believed as canon or just completely wrong (the things I could say about the SNK wiki... @illyrilex​ knows first hand how messed up that one is). I remember years ago, for a while, Asuka’s page had stuff in the trivia section about her “not being a fairy” (???), and even Hwoa had some wtf stuff in his own. It’s been years and it has been fixed, but it was wild to read it, lol.

So take everything you find there with a grain of salt, unless it’s something that has been shown in the games or official material like artbooks and such.

#tekken #tekken 8 #text post #replies #anonymous #submission #fandom wikis are wild man #also thanks tumblr for working like a charm everytime I get a submission #you're a champ

[everygame]

Quartet (Arcade)

Developed/Published by: Sega Released: 10/04/1986 Completed: 18/08/2023 Completion: Played all 32 unique levels. Version Played: MAME Trophies / Achievements: n/a

There’s a convenience store near me that’s got a Quartet machine in it. It’s dusty, surrounded by and covered in boxes, and I genuinely have no idea how long it’s been since it was turned on. Every time I’m in, I check to make sure it’s still there, because I think to myself “I’m sure they’ll take pennies to take this off their hands. If I’ve ever got the kind of living situation where I’ve got the space for something like this…”

Having played through Quartet now–or rather, Quartet 2, which is the two-player (but otherwise identical) version–I will probably be less inclined to haggle over the machine if they decide it’s got sentimental value or something (although I’m fairly certain it’s there because they just don’t want to have to deal with trying to get it out of the shop). Because Quartet is… not great.

Popular wisdom has that this was pushed out in what would have to be considered record time to “clone” Gauntlet as a flashy, four-player arcade game, and I’m definitely interested in how the timeline of that worked, because Gauntlet by all accounts was released in November 1985, didn’t reach Japan until February 1986, and this came out in… the same month???

(Obviously, dates for all these things have to be taken with a grain of salt–I have found at least one source that has it down as not releasing till April, but let’s not split too many hairs.)

It’s possible–and this is pure conjecture–that Quartet was an in-progress side scroller that got rapidly retrofitted to make it as Gauntletty as possible. It’s got a lot of different enemy types and bosses while also having insanely short levels, which makes it seem like something quickly changed and then rushed out, but then again, it might just be how they decided to spend their limited time.

(I’m not sure if it has any significance that the game was one of the very few for Sega’s “pre-System 16” hardware when Fantasy Zone, released within a month of Quartet, was on actual System 16 hardware.)

To speak of Gauntlet for a second: I don’t really get Gauntlet. Gauntlet isn’t the first game to feature continues (SNK’s 1981 title Fantasy has that distinction) but it’s definitely the first game that feels designed to just have credits fed into it continuously. You’ve got constantly sapping health and swarms of enemies that in many cases you can’t avoid getting hit by, meaning that you’re going to end up putting more cash in because your mate hasn’t died yet, leading to that feedback loop where when they die they put another credit in too. To add insult to injury, there’s no ending, so the only actual value is trying to see how far you can get on one credit…

(Turns out if you play well and abuse that enemies don’t spawn off-screen, you can basically play it infinitely on a single credit, but it’s a lot of tedious effort…)

Anyway. Quartet is… basically the same thing: an exercise in feeding credits that doesn’t lead to any sort of ending or even much variety in the levels. It’s a side-scroller with floaty jumps, sure, but that’s not inherently more interesting than Gauntlet’s top-down styling, and if anything there are deeper flaws. For one, you cannot destroy generators (miserable!) and the game is designed around defeating a boss that you find in the level and then taking their key to the exit door. Unfortunately, every time you get hit you go through a lengthy hit animation and throw anything you are carrying behind you on the screen–including power-ups! With every screen swarming with enemies, this gets old fast.

I don’t have any knowledge if Quartet 2 is balanced for two-players, but it doesn’t seem to be especially; I suspect that Quartet is far more manageable with a full four players–more chaotic, but a lot more fun and a lot more survivable (they don’t let you destroy the generators because the levels would rapidly empty of enemies with four playing, I’m certain) and that the game has a little player ranking at the end of each level makes it clear that it’s at least partially a competition which would give you more of a reason to keep playing. 

So not a game for billy-no-mates here, but I’ll tell you what kept me playing: it’s absolutely banging soundtrack! The Quartet Theme is a legit classic, but I’ve got a soft spot for OKI_RAP with its awkward, rappin’ ronnie samples. “S-S-S-Sega! Oh Yeah!” 

Didn’t get bored through my entire playthrough and the soundtrack’s only like eleven minutes long.

Will I ever play it again? When I own that machine and have three friends, sure.

Final Thought: Quartet’s visuals are very charming and seem to be the work of the legendary Reiko Kodama, who had previously done the art for Sega Ninja. More interestingly, perhaps, is that the game was coded by Yoshiki Ooka, who would go on to develop the similarly Gauntlet-inspired Gain Ground!

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#gaming #video games #games #text #txt #review #arcade #sega #quartet #quartet 2 #reiko kodama #yoshiki ooka #1986

[mccarthymolly]

Okuh. R u ready for this interview , it's not about me

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[warm-starlight]

So now all that's left for them is to remove Hange from these panels when they adapt them or make Hange completely insignificant in them and their mission will be complete

Oh yeah they also will make EM goodbye absolutely nothing like LH so people never see the parallels between them.

This is the last of the salt i spit out.

#snk #aot #levihan #salt

[autumn-foxfire]

Somehow I don't think its the final arcs, I read SnK upto its disaster final chapter and Gintama, Haikyuu and hell even Naruto's endings came good. JJK is still JJK. Its just, something suddenly changed near the end with those series that just keeps getting not exactly disappointing but unsatisfying, weekly.

Huh, I'm sorry to hear that nonnie.

It's always a shame when a piece of media you used to like no longer sparks the same joy but it adds a little more salt to the wound when you're not entirely sure why.

Also, I'm so sorry for not answering this sooner T-T Especially as your original ask is now buried...

#personal #thanks for the ask!!