#some are easier for me to answer than others

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 52

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I always come back to Loki.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Loki lingers, his head against your arm as you sit in the hue of spring. You could be calm if he weren’t there, if he hadn’t just altered your irrevocably. His wife? 

You could’ve never imagined it. You can’t be his wife. You’re the maid. You’re lost and hopeless and unimportant. Yet he wants to marry you? You? Even your own father doesn’t want you. Until just then, you may have thought the same of man kneeling by your feet. 

Should it feel special? Should you be happy? Doesn’t every woman dream of her wedding day? You didn’t. You never expected a husband. You never had the thought to spare marriage. It just didn’t seem realistic to you. It was never a possibility you had to weigh. 

“You’re quiet,” he lifts his head slowly, looking up at you with his gemlike eyes, “aren’t you excited?” 

You suck in your lip then let it out, “yeah, I’m just... surprised.” 

“Mm, I’m sorry it wasn’t a better one,” he looks around, “no candles, no champagne... but there are flowers.” 

“Yeah, I guess, er--” 

You hear the doors and before you can face the intruder on your scene, Frigga’s voice unleashes in a shrill squeal, “did you do it? Oh, please, Loki, what did she say?” 

He shifts and clears his throat. He grips the arms rest and pushes himself to his feet. He plants a kiss on your forehead before he straightens. He lets out a breath as he turns to his mother. 

“We are getting married,” he says plainly. 

“Oh, how wonderful,” she chimes, “oh, a daughter-in-law!... Again.” She chuckles lightly, “it will be like a fairytale.” She flutters over to you as Loki moves out of her way, “darling,” she takes your hand, tugging you up to your feet, “this will be even grander than Walpurgisnacht. Oh yes, this will be unforgettable.” 

You look at Loki as he returns your helpless gaze. You pout in his direction as he shrugs. Your mouth curves deeper downward. Please help! 

“I’ve got some silhouettes in mind,” she pulls you away from the table, “Hela showed me this app, Pinterest I believe it’s called. I have all these splendid things saved.” 

‘Sorry,’ Loki mouths and turns his hands out as you’re dragged away from the sunlight and the serenity of nature. Back to the dark house where you can’t breathe. 

Inside, she takes you into the kitchen. She leaves you by the island as she flits around, dropping black tea into a pot and putting on the kettle to boil. She hums gleefully as you just stare. ‘Daughter-n-law'. That’s what she said. Would that make her your mother? 

“Dear,” she turns to you and exhales, her expression dampening, “I recall you said your mother isn't with us anymore. I understand that may make this bittersweet for you but I will be here for you. Whatever you need, whatever questions you have, I’ll be happy to help. A wedding is a big thing. There’s much to do.” 

You nod, “should we... should we hire a planner?” 

“A planner? Gods no! I fancy myself a bit of an amateur but more than adequate,” she tuts, “we could have it at the house. Or perhaps we might seek out a nice chapel.” 

You frown. It’s all so much so fast. She stops and puts her hand to her chest, “oh sorry, darling, I’m just so excited for you. I’m not trying to take over. Don’t be afraid to speak up. What do you think for a venue? Oh, perhaps a destination? Somewhere tropical?” 

You cross your arms and peer over, your eyes catching the sheen of sunlight. 

“The garden,” you murmur, “the gazebo. It’s all fixed up. We could put flowers around the rails.” 

“That’d be a beautiful ceremony but what about the reception? We need space.” 

“Oh,” you babble. 

“Certainly we could make it work. We could fit people into the garden, we may have to sacrifice a few hedges.” 

“Not many,” you mutter. 

“Pardon, dear?” She asks as the kettle clicks and she turns to grab it off the burner, “what do you mean by that?” 

“I...” your shoulders slump at the realisation, “I don’t have anyone to invite.” 

She’s quiet as she pours the steaming water into the tea pot, “that’s not true. You have us and oh, Bragi seemed quite fond of you.” 

“That doesn’t count.” 

“Why not? Dear, we love Loki because we have to, we love you because we want to,” she smiles. 

Your eyes drift away wistfully. She can’t understand. She has people, she has everything you ever wanted. Even with the promise of a pretty house, a gorgeous garden, and all that comes with it, it just doesn’t make you feel any different. 

You want a dad who loves you. You want a mother who’s alive. You want anyone who isn’t just obligated to you. 

“I’m sorry,” her voice goes low, “I’m not meaning to upset you. I’ll slow down. I understand it’s a lot--” 

“How could you want me to marry him? I don’t belong—I shouldn’t-- I can’t be your daughter.” 

“Why ever not?” She asks. 

You scoff and push your shoulders up, “I’m not good enough.” 

She laughs, but not a taunting laugh. It’s disbelieving. She takes you by the shoulders and makes you face her head on, “darling, let me tell you, you are. You... you have no idea.” 

“No idea?” You shake your head as you look at her from beneath your lashes. 

“About what you do to my son. No, you cannot see it but I do. My Loki. I’ve seen him married, I’ve seen him heartbroken, I’ve seen him through everything, but something’s different about this. About you,” he brings a hand up to caress your cheek and hairline, “you have a power over him. Once you claim it, this will all be so much easier.” She cups your cheeks and tilts her head with a coy smile, “that’s how a marriage should be, you will see. He’ll never admit it but my son is more like his father than you would think.” 

You scrunch up your nose. You don’t believe her. You can’t. You don’t have power. You’re just you. You’re not special or anything like that. You now what you are to Loki. The same thing you’ve always been to him, whether his maid, his plaything, or his wife; convenient. 

“You will see,” she assures as if she can hear your doubts, “and what always clears my mind is tea.” 

✨

Frigga expounds at length about all the possibilities ahead of you. She has grocery list that goes beyond a mere wedding. An engagement party, a bridal shower, the rehearsal, and not to mention, a scandalous bachelorette. You only sink further into anxiety. What have you gotten yourself into? 

Well, you never did say yes. You weren’t asked, were you? Doesn’t matter. It’s not like you have anywhere to go. 

You hold your chin, gnawing on your lip as Frigga rambles on about wedding colours. Green is nice but what about something subtle. Oh, or metallic. You simply nod, offering little to her monologue. 

Your eyes wander past her to the windows. The afternoon wanes as evening cools the air. You mourn the sunlight as it shifts and the curtains dull. 

“Ahem,” the clearing of a throat draws you away from your detachment. 

Frigga quiets as she glances at her husband. He stands in the doorway, greeting you both with a subtle smile. 

“I hate to interrupt, dear,” he says to Frigga, “but I was hoping I might be spared a moment with our future daughter before the sun sets. It has been a long day and I’d hate to keep her later than need be.” 

“Oh, uh, certainly,” Frigga pushes her shoulders back, her cheeks tinging a dainty pink, “time must’ve got away from me. I’m so sorry, darling.” She reaches over and squeezes above your elbow, “I have been going on and on.” 

“You will have lots of time to do so,” Odin chuckles, “but I feel the rain coming soon and I would like a walk in the gardens before then.” He tilts his head towards you, “may I have the honour?” 

Frigga nudges you dips her head, “go on.” 

You stand and swallow tightly, crossing the room to Odin as he waits patiently. You offer a sheepish look as he offers his arm. You thank him and walk with him into the entryway. He lets you retrieve your shoes before you go to the back doors and he ushers you outside. 

You’re quiet as you descend the steps and stroll between the hedges. You feel the cool dampness creeping in the air. He’s right about the rain. You cling to his arm as a shiver crawls up your spine. 

He draws away briefly, slipping off his thick cardigan, and he slips it over your shoulders. You murmur a thank you and he loops his arm with yours once again. You carry on, uncertain. You can sense he means to say something and you think you know what. He isn’t as happy as Frigga about this union. 

You brace yourself for it. For him to put all your doubts to voice. You’re not good enough for Loki. This is a mistake. You are a pretender and you don’t belong in this family. 

“My son is a fool,” he begins, shaking you with his soft but deep tone. You exhale, somewhat comforted that you were right. For once. “The way he’s behaved, foolish. And that’s to put it lightly, my dear.” He reaches to pat your hand in the crook of his arm, “you deserve much better than either of my sons.” 

You keep your chin low as you watch your feet. A twig crushes beneath your sole as leaves rustle to your left. You glance over and stare after a short tail before it disappears. It’s only then you realise where he’s leading you. 

The gazebo rises ahead of you with it’s domed roof. He stops you at the bottom and turns. He lets you go and lowers himself to sit on the step. He pats the wood next to him. As you sit, he looks up, admiring the structure. 

“You did a good job,” he says. 

“What?”  

“On this,” he touches the railing, “looks sturdy.” 

“Oh, well I... I only called the carpenter.” 

“You did what needed to be done. What my son would not.” 

“Mm, I guess,” you shrug. 

“You did,” he insists, “do you not see it?” 

“See what?” You twiddle your fingers. 

“You are much stronger than he thinks you are. Than you think you are,” he shakes his head, “you underestimate yourself. My son, as much as I hate to think I raised him that way, while whine and whine before he gets anything done. If he can avoid it, it won’t be done. But you, I see it clearly, you do things. You know what life is. You just get through it.” 

You hum and bite down on your cheeks. Not having a choice isn’t bravery. If anything, it’s the opposite. 

“You shouldn’t. Just get through it. You should have some joy. You shouldn’t be locked away in the dark away from the sunlight. You should flourish in it,” he leans against you, “don’t let this marriage be like everything else.” 

You dip your head. He sees right through you. 

“You’re wrong, I’m not strong. I’m weak. I only do things because I’m afraid,” you sniffle. 

“But you can admit that fear. You can face it. Not many people can.” 

You sighs and drag your hands up and down your calves, hunching over your knees. 

“If you want to marry my son, I will not say a word to stop you, but I do want you to make a promise to me,” he continues, “a small one. Rather, think of it as a promise to yourself.” 

“Okay,” you wilt as you look over at him. His eyes are a bluish grey with flecks of slate. His gaze is gentle. 

“It’s what we spoke of before,” he says, “you must tell my son no.” 

“No?” 

“Ah, yes, I do regret he didn’t hear more it earlier in his life but he does need to hear it. Especially from you,” he intones. 

“But I...” 

“You will. And when you do, he will listen.” 

“How-- no, he wouldn’t.” 

“Ah, I know. My son is isn’t very good at that but he will. He must. He has reason to listen now. You are not his wife yet,” he puts his hand over yours, just atop your knee. 

You give a strained look, somewhere between a smile and frown. You’re flattered that he believe in you but you don’t. He doesn’t know the way it. He doesn’t know the way you are. 

“Alright, let’s practice,” he pulls his hand away and claps. He pushes himself to his feet with a grunt and spins to face you. He adjusts his collar and lifts his chin, putting on face, almost a pinched look, “now, wife,” his voice is slightly off, “what I say is law and you will do as I say.” 

You stare at him, confused. You purse your lips and shake your head. What is he talking about? 

He grins and shows his palms, “I am him. Pretend I’m my son,” he lowers his voice, “now, we’ve had enough of this conversation and I have made my decision.” 

You pick your nail, watching him dumbly. 

He breaks character again, “say no.” 

“What?” 

“Say it,” he orders then once more his poster shifts. “Wife, I will not tell you again.” 

You blink and take a deep breath, “n--no?” 

He sputters, “pardon? What was that?” 

“No,” you say firmer, heart beating, “no, I—I won’t.” 

“But I said so--” 

“Oh, um, okay--” 

“No, no, no,” Odin waves his hands, “keep going.” 

“Uh, okay, uh, no,” you say again. 

“No? You’re telling me no?” He puts on a display which does remind you of Loki. “How can you tell me no?” 

You look at him and blanch. His grey eyes stare back, goading you on. He bows his head slightly. 

“Yes, I mean, no. Yes, I am telling you no. No,” you steady your voice, “no.” He spins his finger and you repeat it again, loudly. 

He arches his brow and puts his hand to his chest, “no?” He sounds almost pathetic, “but darling,” he comes forward and lowers himself to his knees, one at a time. He takes your hand in his, “darling, please, don’t be mad at me.” 

You scoff as his theatrics turn ridiculous. You make a face and roll your eyes, “he wouldn’t...” 

“He will,” Odin assures. “If he knows you’re serious, if you don’t give him what he wants right away, oh, I think you could give him a right scare. As I have it, you already have done.” He lifts himself slightly and angles to sit beside you again, “just perhaps this time you needn’t scale the roof.” 

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers

[wesawbears]

Sunshine Court broke something in my brain, so here's some protective Jean because my boy is not gonna tolerate whatever is going on with Jeremy's family.

Tagging @bienmoreau @faintlyglow and @betterbekind

--

Jeremy's hands shake as he's getting ready for dinner with his family.

Jean doesn't mean to notice, perched as he is on the bed, watching the other man straightening his shirt in front of the dresser. Jeremy's very good at hiding it, with his easy smiles and easier deflections. By now, he knows it's an open secret that Jeremy avoids his family as best he can, and that Cat and Laila allow him his choice.

But Jean has spent his whole life reading into the slant of someone's posture to survive, and he knows the tremor in Jeremy's hands as if it was his own.

“You're afraid,” he says, the words arriving unbidden. But it's such a shock to see him like this– the man who stood in front of Jean at the darkest points of his life and refused to look away, cowed by the people who were supposed to love him. 

This was Jean's friend, his partner, and he was feeling unsafe.

Jeremy jumps at the sound, either lost in his own thoughts or used to the quietness of Jean for the last few minutes. “What?”

Jean weighs what he wants to say. He knows he's had his fair share of truths he's asked to keep to himself, and that Jeremy has never pushed when it mattered. But he also thinks about “for now”, and how hard truths can only be avoided for so long. “Is it your parents?”

Jeremy's eyes widen, a nervous fidget in the set of his hands. If he wants to lie, Jean's already decided to allow it. But Jeremy finally says a quiet, “Yes and no.”

Jean nods. “Do they- are you safe?” He doesn't think he's seen bruises, and he remembers the horror in Jeremy's voice as he told Jean that his parents should have protected him. But maybe he was projecting?

Jeremy's shoulders deflate. “Jean, no. It's nothing like that. I promise, they've never laid a hand on me.” He smiles, a crooked thing that has Jean following the curve of his lips. 

Still, Jean knows the way he's curled into himself, the way he's glancing at his phone as though it's about to jump at him. “But it's something.”

“It's just dinner. I can handle it. I know how to play the game and get out of there.” It's a perfectly neutral answer, but it's also more than he's said in months about what waits for him when he disappears to his family's home. Despite his living there most of the year, Jean refuses to call it Jeremy's home. His home is here, cleaning up with Laila and arguing with Cat, and where Jean can see him when his nightmares rattle him awake to count the rise and fall of Jeremy's breath from the next bed over.

“Do you want company?” It's a strange request, and Jean knows it as he says it. Jean still hates being around people, and speaking to a bunch of strangers even Jeremy is nervous around makes his stomach swim. But this is his partner, and if he needs him, he can be there for him. It is only fair.

Jeremy's face becomes unbearably gentle and Jean isn't ready to read into the fondness he sees there. “I will be okay. Like I said, I know how to do this.”

One part of Jean knows he should leave it at that. But the other part has cataloged the heaviness in Jeremy's countenance when he returns home– the rehearsed smile, the way he goes to bed early. The part that wins says, “I will walk home with you. When dinner is over.”

“You don't have to do that-”

“I want to,” he says, and he finds that he means it. The idea of Jeremy walking home by himself after spending an hour alone in a room of people is too much to bear. “Text me the address and I will be there.” He wanted to visit the grocery store anyway– he could do that while he waited. Cat would be happy to see the spice cabinet restocked.

“Alright,” Jeremy says, swallowing whatever protest sat on his lips. “Yeah, I'll- I'll text you.”

Jean nods, letting the matter drop while Jeremy finishes getting ready in amicable silence. When he leaves, it's with a nod that Jean recognizes, of someone who is resigning themselves to the inevitable. 

He doesn't know how to keep him from hurting, but he is at least well versed in the aftermath.

–

Jean arrives at the intended address at the appointed time, not wanting to be there too early and seem suspicious. Jeremy is not forthcoming about his familial circumstances, but he knows there is money involved, and in Jean's experience, outsiders were not tolerated. 

True to his word, Jeremy emerges after only a minute or two and his face lights up in a way that makes Jean's stomach twist when he spots him. He hurries toward Jean, and immediately begins walking once they reach each other.

It's easy to keep pace with him, but as Jeremy is about to breach the silence, a voice behind them brings him up short. 

“I thought you knew better than to bring people like that to the house?”

Jean bristles at the implication, but he's more concerned with the way Jeremy stills at his side. When Jeremy doesn't reply, Jean tries to ignore it as well and continue forward, but the voice continues.

“Flaunting it in front of us like you don't even care what you did to the family? You deserve whatever happens, you-”

“You will not speak to him that way.”

Jeremy draws back in surprise, but Jean keeps his expression cool as he turns to face Jeremy's brother.

“What did you say to me?”

Jean glances at Jeremy, sure he's crossing a line but unable to stop himself. “I said, you will not speak to him like that.”

A snort. “He's my brother. I can say whatever I like. Besides, how exactly are you going to stop me?”

“Jean,” Jeremy's voice is small beside him and Jean does not rise to the bait. 

He fixes the unfamiliar man with a cool glance. “Nothing. I know a great deal of small men exactly like you, and they always seem to get what they deserve in the end. I do not need to do anything to stop you. But no one has to listen to you either.”

With one last flat look, he walks, Jeremy matching his purposeful strides. As the silence grew longer between them, Jean wonders if he read this wrong, if Jeremy had not wanted him to say anything. Had he crossed a line? Had he made Jeremy feel unsafe?

“Thank you.”

Jean turns to look at him in surprise. “I did not mean to force you to face them before you were ready-”

“I'm not ready,” Jeremy admits. “And yeah, things will probably be pretty tense next time.” He rubs the back of his neck. “But- it means something to me that you were there. I– it made it easier, knowing you were there.”

Jean nods slowly, not trusting himself to be able to say anything. He had said it not because of anything owed between them, but because he could not bear to see Jeremy's light dimmed by those who were supposed to cherish him.

At last, he finds his voice to say, “I will not let you leave me behind.”

The smile Jeremy sends is a little tired, but it's also slow and soft and the first real one he's seen all night, so Jean counts it as a win.

Rainbows. Open roads. Friends. Jeremy's smile.

#tsc spoilers #the sunshine court #jerejean #jeremy knox #jean moreau

[vagabond-umlaut]

synchronise 3.0

On one end of the line, you've sunny days, mild breezes and not one thing to worry over. On the other end, there are only moonless nights, foul gales and one too many decisions– made and unmade– to repent for. And in the middle of this line segment, is you—

The only means by which the scales can be re-balanced. The equilibrium lost can be re-discovered. The wheels of life thrown off-kilter can be re-synchronised.

[Long story short: Time can be a funny little bitch— Good thing, you know how to be funnier than time itself!]

gojo satoru x fem!reader; canon divergence; time travel fix-it; no warnings except the characters themselves featuring here; note [dw- this will make sense later on]: Asia is the largest continent on earth, while Europe is the second-smallest continent; reader has two brothers [js mentioned here]

prev chapter // synchronise masterlist // THE masterlist

chapter three: T-Junction (Ⅰ)

Siblings... are complicated.

You don't really hate them, no. Not at all, honestly speaking.

Your two brothers mean the world to you— okay, maybe not the world. But they do mean a continent to you each. Maybe not Asia... maybe Europe... yeah, Europe sounds apt enough— Anyway, the point is: you love your brothers very much and are willing to punch anyone if that's what makes them happy. Still, you can't help but see siblings as somewhat complicated...

Which is why, your reckon, you feel so conflicted on seeing your probable-sister.

Are you happy? Yes. Of course. You finally have a sister, after all.

But are you really, truly happy?

... No, you aren't.

You're upset, your parents' affection for their kids will now be divided into four instead of three. You're upset, your parents have been hiding such information for so long. You're upset, this woman's abrupt appearance is bound to wreck havoc, in your already far too chaotic world.

You're upset, you're hurt, you're mad—

"I'm not the long-lost sister you might be thinking I am— I'm you, from the future."

You know you should be confused. You should be skeptical, you know this too. You should ask for proof– For all you know, she might be a con artist perfect at impersonation– It's really, really imperative for you to ask her for some form of proof, before engaging in any further interaction...

Yet all you do is take a small step forwards, so as to regard your alleged future self more keenly.

Only to take a step back, a shocked gasp barely stifled on realising– recognising– her presence entirely...

"You're really me," you murmur, voice far too low despite there being no one here to eavesdrop on you or 'the other you'. The latter's lips quirk up in a faint ghost of a smile. "You're much easier to convince than I thought you would be... It's not good to be this believing, y'know. Life won't go easy on you."

Perhaps, it won't. Perhaps, it will. But:

"Life hasn't gone too easy on you either, has it?" The question slips past you into the suffocating staleness of the alleyway... Not that you ever made any effort to stop it whatsoever, however. The smile shot at you fades into something raw, something visibly wounded— Should you care?

No. Maybe you should, but you won't.

You... simply don't want to.

Shifting your weight from one foot to another, you fold your arms across your chest and continue, "You look like absolute shit— Has anyone told you this yet, lady? Well, I'm telling you now: You Do," the words leave you in a sneer, allowing her no space to answer the ask. The latter was rhetoric anyway. "Your hair looks off, your face looks off, even your clothes— Goodness!" you let out a gasp, following it with harsh chuckles. Totally ignoring the flinch you receive in response.

"Did you come straight from a funeral, eh? And please don't even get me started on your cursed energy— mine is so fucking bright, so fucking powerful, people find themselves struggling to to breathe if I ever let the entire potential of mine loose! But yours? Heh," you scoff, smirking at her distressed features, "I know you're me but yours is nothing but a disgrace to mine: dull, weak, broken and fractured—"

CRASH!!!

The thunderous noise cuts you off from speaking.

And you whirl round, eyes the shape of saucers and your heart in your thraot, to find hell-like chaos unfolding in the china shop across the road: the owners screaming, the customers screaming, people pushing and shoving each other in their hurry to run out the cramped shop...

One they definitely believe to be haunted, from the way everything in there is now smashed to pieces...

Your older self is wearing a very stupid, very sheepish smile when you turn back around. She awkwardly scratches her neck then runs a hand through her hair, before sending you a crooked little grin this time.

"Sorry, uh. Silly emotions got the better of me, huh," she says, as if she did not just level a shop full of expensive crockery to the ground. The place is literally reeking of her– no, your– no, her!– cursed energy.  So blinding, so intense, you wonder how the people in there escaped from their organs being crushed by the sheer force of it...

"Anyway," A carefree hum drags you away from your racing thoughts of not-so-mild terror, "what was that you were talking 'bout again? Something related to my attire or my cursed ener–"

"Hey, no. Not at all," you don't waste even a fraction of a beat in denying. The woman's grin simmers down to a sharp shrewd tilt of her lips. "You can just forget whatever I was talking 'bout then. It's all nonsense, trust me. Nothing you got to worry about, haha."

"Okay," she agrees easily, moving to sit down on the box where Satoru and you were sitting before, waving a hand to call you over. You immediately comply with her request. Your older self regards you quietly for a couple beats before slumping back against the wall with a sigh.

You watch her look skywards before returning her focus to you.

"You must be wondering how– more importantly– why I'm here, right?"

Are you?

No, not really. You're actually wondering how on earth she got so powerful that she could cause such destruction despite the significant distance in between, without breaking into a single bead of sweat. You can't even focus enough to crush a dozen soda cans without needing a break in between.

Nevertheless, you don't let that stop you from returning an eager nod.

If the woman notes how forced it seems, she makes no mention of it, continuing, "Well, I'm not here from the future on a picnic, that's the only thing I can tell you for now... or ever, for that matter," she adds after a moment's contemplation.

"Things have gone kind of... let's say, wrong in the future. Yeah, wrong," she repeats after yet another moment's thought, "Like, really, really wrong. More like, disaster-level wrong." Her gaze falls to the purse in her hands, before lifting again to meet yours. "And I seriously need your help to make them right again, kid— considering this is the point where everything went off-track. This is the point where the two of us can ensure everything stays on the track."

"So tell me, kid," she twists to face you, desperation written all over her face— Not that you'll ever comment on it, though. Just because she is easy-going now, it doesn't mean you've to forget what happened not even ten minutes back—

"Do you wanna help me– and via that, yourself– out or not?"

A beat passes. Then another. And another.

You let your back hit the wall, biting back a defeated, already-fatigued groan...

She's acting as if you've got a goddamn choice in this godforsaken matter.

Her future is your future. So, if anything goes to hell in her future, it's doomed to go to hell in yours too. No questions asked, no conditions applied... You decide not to restrain the tinge– no, flood of your resignation in your tone this time.

"I'll help you out, okay," you concede, jumping down from the box and dusting your trousers.

The woman looks extremly delighted at your agreement— so much so that you think she might pull you into a tight hug. To avoid that, you move few steps away, and shoot a stiff smile back.

Her grin widens, if it was even possible at this point... Rising as well, she merrily ambles over to you and plucks out a terribly crumpled, terribly yellowed piece of film from her purse—

It's a family.

It's a photograph of a family—

A very cute, seemingly very happy family of three, if you're being honest.

There's the father, with a grimace-y smile and flattened black hair; and there's the mother, with an equally sweet beam and spiky black hair; then there's the kid– a teeny-tiny infant, to be specific– sucking on their thumb in their mom's arms, with the latter's spiky black hair...

You look up from the photo with a frown. "Am I supposed to find them or something?"

"Yup, you are," Your older version affirms with a hum— Before her cheeriness melts away into something far graver. And you reckon, it becomes her more than those eerie grins she was wearing before...

Clasping you by the shoulder, she bends an inch to look you in the eye. Words morphing into a mere wary whisper as she resumes:

"Then you're supposed to stop Zen'in Toji from going back to being an assassin. Kill him if you must, kid. But make sure, by hook or by crook, the world doesn't witness the return of the Sorcerer Killer."

nothing much to say, other than hoping this chapter was enjoyable!!! likes, comments & reblogs r vm welcome & appreciated! tysm to everyone who has supported this silly fic of mine till now *mwah mwah* 💗💗💗

header from pinterest; dividers by @benkeibear; jjk isn't mine

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #gojo angst #jjk angst #kit posts 📝

[technicallyvivi]

NSFW WARNING!

mafia mingi

sometimes mingi came home all bloody, streaks of blood in his messy platinum hair and an exhausted look on his face. today was one of those days. "i missed you." he said from the doorway of you room taking you by surprise, you jumped up and chuckled. "hey." your smile disappearing when you take a closer look at see all the blood smeared across his body. "rough day?" you ask and he sighs in return walking over to you. "wash me." a soft smile spreads across your face blush creeping up your cheeks. you love it when mingi asks you to pamper him, he's not an easy person to take care of since he's always wanting to be independent and do things for himself. "sure." you both walk to the bathroom together him sitting on the toilet seat and you standing in between his thighs. he pulls you closer by your hips, slipping his hands under your shirt to touch your warm skin and slowly rub your sides. taking off his shirt is easier today, usually, he'd want a slow and sensual make out session first. but he's decided he's to tired to do anything without at least washing up first. especially since he knows how much you hate being touched by blood that isn't yours or his. you both stare at each other for a while, just letting him savor this moment with you before he goes off early in the morning. "lick it." he says. "huh?" confusion fills you, what the hell was he talking about? "the blood." you shake your head. "it's not yours." a small giggle escapes his lips. "it is. want you to lick me clean." looking down at his spasming abs you agree, get on your knees and stick your tongue out lapping up all the blood between his abs and turning your lips a deep red color. messy blood all around them. he takes your hair and pulls it slightly so you look up into his eyes. "good?" sticking your tongue out you bring it up to lick your lips to swallow it all and nod. "let's try something new tonight bunny." there's that nickname that gets you wet immediately. his bunny. he knows you won't be able to say no to whatever it is he wants to try. you take his spot on the toilet seat while you wait for him to come back, it takes him some time and in between that you hear clanking and crashing, almost making you run to check up on him. but soon enough he's back, and with his gun on his side. "what's that for?" you ask almost in a whisper. "do you trust me y/n?" his tired deep voice makes the hairs on the back of your neck raise. you're not sure what the right answer is here, you know mingi would never hurt you though. "yes.." he smiles getting on his knees lifting up your skirt and taking off your panties until they reached your ankles soaking your thighs in your own arousal. and he laughed, he fucking laughed. "look at you, you're dripping baby." you rub your thighs together to feel some friction and pleasure yourself but mingi forces them back open. "shh, you'll get what you want in a second. be patient for me, yes?" you just nod in response. you didn't think he'd be upset at that too. "words, baby." he says rubbing your inner thigh. "ill be patient." you say back. he smiles and looks up at you not breaking eye contact when he starts pulling out his gun you look down at it, but you feel his big hands on your chin moving your face to turn and look at him. "look at me." he says voice deeper than before which at the time seemed almost impossible. so you take a deep breath and tangle your fingers through his hair, he takes that as an invitation to move his hand further up and start to prep you, playing with your folds and teasing your hole ever so slightly until he slides his fingers in fully. so you don't make too much noise he covers your mouth. the walls are thin and your bodyguard, san, sleeps in the room next door. but he can still see the effect he has on you. "m-mingi" you gulp. "please." this time he doesnt smile, doesn't even answer your pleads, instead the takes his gun and cocks it, pressing it to the side of your head. your eyes widen and you grab his wrist. "mingi?" you say in the sweetest voice, which almost makes him fold, but he doesn't.

"make a noise and you're dead." he smiles, psychotically and whats even more psycho, is it gets you wetter, which is saying a lot. the fear in your eyes turns him on, he pulls his fingers out of your throbbing hole slowly, and stands up. still pointing the gun to your head he looks down, "unbuckle me." you nod immediately fumbling to take off his belt and take his pants off, they pool at his ankles so he can step out of them easily. next are his boxers you do this slower just to tease him. something which mingi doesnt like "hurry up." he groans grabbing your hair tightly. you hurry yourself up and pull them all the way down, his angry cock springs up hitting his belly, coating it with precum. "stand up." you do, he takes your seat and pats his lap. "youre gonna ride daddy, no noise." its almost a demand. you nod and hover over his dick letting him line it up, he pushes the tip in carefully, your pussy sucking it in tightly. "f-fuckkk." he groans and a whimper escapes your throat reminding him to press the gun harder onto the side of your head. "i said shut the fuck up." you lean down sinking onto his dick and biting his bare shoulder to suppress your moans. he grabbed your hips and started moving you up and down slowly, everytime you clenched around his shaft he would groan in your ear. it didnt take him long to pick up his pace skin slapping filled the room and your mouths grip on his shoulder got loose, you felt like you were about to cum with the way he kept thrusting into you harder and deeper. "that's my little slut taking me so well." he reminded himself to keep the gun steady, "you gonna cum?" you nodded against his shoulder and accidentally moaned too loud when his tip pressed right on your g spot. he laughed and crawled his hand up your chest and to your neck moving your limp and bouncing body to look him in the eyes. "shut the fuck up dumb whore." he pressed the gun to your temple. "i know daddy's stretching you out so good right now but you- shit- have to be quiet." he sped up his pace choking you with one hand which also kept you in place and holding the gun with his other. you closed your eyes as tightly as you could and clenched down on his cock. "you can cum puppy." he grunted in your ear, puppy, he called you puppy. just with that you looked down and bit on his hand so you didn't moan to loud, tensing up you came all over his dick. shortly after with just a couple thrusts his cum filled you up like a balloon, like a cum dump, his slut. you trembled in his arms for a while and he set the gun down, panting against your sweaty neck. you just sat there for a little he held you close and pressed against you, he also leaned back against the toilet seat so you could lay your head more comfortably. "im sorry puppy, I didn’t do too much did i?” He asks, slowly pulling out of you, a mix of both your cum and his oozing outside of your puffy pussy. You shake your head, “no not at all, but uh-.” you look up at him, still trembling "no, it wasn't actually loaded. you know i could never hurt you." you laugh, and you hear him quietly join you. he sits you on the seat and turns on the water in the bath. “lets clean up, then we can go cuddle, sounds good?" he quietly asks you, scratching one of his injuries from earlier that night grabbing your hand to give it a kiss as well. you giggle, “sounds good. dont irritate the scratches baby.” he nods smiling, slowly rubbing your knuckles in his hands. “sorry.” he turns the water off once its filled and carries you in.

#ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez hard thoughts #ateez smut #yunho smut #ateez #ateez x reader #hongjoong smut #jongho smut #mingi smut #mingi x reader #song mingi #mingi #ateez mingi #ateez fic #atz #atiny #yeosang #seonghwa #park seonghwa

[generalluxun]

Be Careful What you Wish for- A Season 6 Miraculous ficlet

Chloé bit her lip to keep from panting. The climb had been excruciating. Any number of tools would have made it easier. Sabrina was the one who normally thought of these things.  Now it was just Chloé on her own, and she was way out of practice with thinking. Climbing though, climbing she could do. Spite helped too. Banished to London for a summer! The last words of that Dupain-Cheng still echoed in her head. Ridiculous am I? I’ll show you ridiculous.

This is how Chloé ended up dressed all in black and perched atop the Dupain-Cheng bakery. The trapdoor down was unlocked, which was good, because she’d forgotten the prybar back home. She lifted the door slowly and listened… silence.  Chloé crept down onto Dupain-Cheng’s bed and- Froze.

“No, I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to tell him. I have to tell him before the school year starts. It’s a new beginning. I’ve got a new recipe baking downstairs for the first day of class. I’m going to do things right this year, from the start,” Marinette’s voice carried more than the usual agitation.

“But Marinette,” a high pitched voice answered back, “What good would it do? He seems happy the way things are. Everyone does!” A series of unidentifiable clicks sounded from below.

Marinette’s reply was quieter, “Happy lies, Tikki? My word as empty as this box is right now? It’s eating me up inside. Will it be easier or harder if it comes out some other way?”

“Who else would know?”

The sound of pacing down below. “It doesn’t make it right Tikki, just because you don’t get caught. Argh. You know what? I’ll practice on Cat Noir! He should know too. I just don’t want him feeling guilty when he hears the full story. I know my partner, he’ll blame himself.”

CAT NOIR?! Chloé bit her knuckle to keep from screaming. The bed shifted just slightly under her. She froze again, dancer's training allowing her to lock every joint in place.

“I don’t know, Marinette. He might ask why you kept the secret, and that might clue him in as to-”

“Marinette!” a deep voice boomed up from below, “Honey, the oven is smoking!”

“Oh no!” Marinette squeaked, “My cookies! C’mon Tikki!”

A thump, a familiar scramble, another thud, and the sound of MArinette’s feet pounding down the steps.

Chloé dared to unfreeze, letting her breath out in a gasp. She clamped her lips shut again and screamed wordlessly into her closed mouth.

DUPAIN-CHENG?! Of ALL people?

A little voice soothed that if it was true then at least Chloé’s life had been upended by someone with superpowers, and that made it a little easier to stomach.  The rest of her sprung into action though, racing down the stairs to Marinette’s room proper. She was doubly bent on revenge now. There had to be somethin-

It would have been so easy to miss. It was just a single line, a crack of color from a drawer left barely ajar. It was Marinette’s tacky sewing chest, but that color… Chloé hooked her finger in the crack and pulled the drawer open slowly. For the second time in as many minutes she nearly swallowed her tongue.

She knew it instantly. She’d held it once before. That gaudy red bulb of a box. The Miracle box. It sat there, solid proof that she hadn’t misunderstood, that Dupain-Cheng hadn’t just gone insane or been playing pretend. This was all real. Chloé lost sense of time. The past year was running itself through her mind, this new reality fitting itself into every interaction. She needed to scream. She needed to scream more than she ever had in her whole life. She couldn’t even begin to guess what she would scream about, or why, but the need was overwhelming.

Another harsh thumping from below cut off the explosion, making her swallow the scream painfully. Footsteps- Dupain-Cheng! Chloé grabbed the box, not even knowing why anymore. She shoved the drawer shut and bolted up to the bed. She almost made it to the trap door.

The creak from below left her poised, one hand on the thin barrier to her escape.

“-hy not?!” Marinette normally reserved that level of anger for her, “It’s over, we beat Monarch. The Butterfly is probably lodged in a filter at the local sewage treatment plant. It’ll end up in a Landfill, which as far as I’m concerned is the best place for it.”

“But Marinette…” Tikki protested.

“No buts, Tikki. I’m making changes aren’t I? Cat Noir can know. It’s time. The two of us can coordinate the team so much better if we aren’t chasing each other’s shadows half the time.”

“Marinette, it’s not over.”

“It is Tikki, we won!” That wasn’t the sound of disagreement, it was the sound of a plea.

“Even if the Ladybug isn’t needed right now, you’ll always be the guardian, Marinette. You can’t let your guard down.”

Marinette let out a growl of frustration, “Gah! Forever? I’m fourteen Tikki! I can’t believe-”

She cut herself off. Chloe could hear her deep inhale and exhale.

“I’m sorry, Tikki. I’m grateful. I’m grateful for your advice. I’m grateful I’ve had the chance to help so many people. I’m grateful for the changes in my life. I’m grateful for all of it. Still, there are times that I just wish…

“I dream of it sometimes, Tikki. Someone comes along. I hand them the box and I say. ‘I’m done. You are the Guardian now. I’m going to go live a normal life with those I love. I wish you luck in your new Guardianship, may it be easier than mine.”

Chloé’s head bounced off Marinette’s wall. The wave of sudden nausea gave her no choice. There was a shout of alarm from below. Chloe threw caution to the wind and scrambled up to the roof, silence be damned.

As the trapdoor slammed shut behind her Dupain-Cheng’s voice carried up, “Help! It’s a giant bug! A Mouse! A Bug-Mouse!”

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #chloe bourgeois #tikki #ml fanfic #ml what if

[capn-twitchery]

I love your ocs but I fear I am a bit out of touch with some of their lore. how much does Grace know about the red honey fuckery?

thank you sm!! :D♥︎ don't worry--i'm not sure i've actually spoken about this a whole lot!! (plus my lore is scattered around random posts like a ransom note. imagine being organised, couldn't be me)

for context: the two of them are a ridiculously slow slowburn bc neither of them know how to talk about feelings, they go in different directions a lot, twitch's response to Having Feelings (or anything) is to disappear to zee. everything takes forever. there's a summary of their timeline here if you want it !!

ANYWAY to answer:

tl;dr summary: most of the time, nothing! eventually, more than anybody else.

so, for most of the time, grace knows absolutely nothing. nobody does, really--twitch doesn't tell anybody, they don't want to talk about it, nobody sees their face at all.

as far as anyone knows, including grace, twitch's bad memory, lying & inconsistent stories are just a personality quirk. and they get sick sometimes, they just need bedrest & won't be available for a few hours, a day, a couple of days. nobody is allowed to see them.

grace remains mostly unaware for a long time--he has inklings that something is up. once he gets to know twitch better, he can tell they're not themself sometimes. but prying would push twitch away, so he just offers help, if they want company, for their headaches the surgeon mentioned. he'll leave the cabin door unlocked, just in case.

he has no idea how bad the "headaches" are until it's happening right in front of him, once they're close enough for twitch to trust him to that degree. he has no idea why it's happening, but he knows twitch doesn't want to tell him, either. and when they're sobbing in his lap, pleading for something he doesn't understand to stop, begging him to help them tie a blindfold because they don't want him to see their face, it's not exactly the time to pry.

it happens a few times. it never gets easier, and it never gets any clearer. it's not til after grace leaves for the new sequence and comes back that he finally sees their face uncovered. he doesn't connect any dots-whether that's because he genuinely just doesn't make the connection, or because twitch doesn't want him to make a big deal about it, who knows!

while he was gone, twitch starts connecting some dots: something's weird with their memories. they don't know how to process it. they bring it up subtly, ask grace if he knows anything about red honey, and maybe he can figure it out himself. he tells them he does, he learned about it during nemesis, in the palace cage gardens. it still haunts him, sometimes, the prisoners with their crying, the suffering the hollow looking eyes-

the eyes.

everything clicks all at once-twitch's eyes, their headaches, the memory issues, the inconsistencies, the lies. it only gets worse when twitch tells him they're starting to wonder if the memories are all theirs.

oh, god. how could anybody do that to them? who did that to them? but twitch doesn't want him on any kind of revenge mission, they don't even think they remember where the cage garden was, and they don't want to try either. he settles for comforting them the best he can-but what can anyone do to help, really?

at the very least, trusting someone enough to talk about it is a huge weight off twitch's shoulders. grace can help them try to figure out what's going on with their memories, it makes them better at talking to each other. it's not easy, but it helps twitch to move forward-slowly, but surely

#sorry this was an essay i just had lots of thoughts #being so normal about them as always #i hope it's legible i am sleepy but i wanted to answer >:3 thank you so much for giving me the excuse to ramble hehehe #it always means a ton♥ #inquiries #solreefs #londonmusings #grace #twitchery

[justasillylittlecritter]

Devotion

a/n: hi! thank you guys sm for the support on my last piece of writing! i am thinking about opening up requests, so if you guys have a request, then feel free to send it in! I'm only taking marauders requests at the moment tho! I will write poly!fics, x reader, and maybe smut depending on how i feel! thanks again!

Remus Lupin x reader

Content Warning: 18+, almost smut but not smut, and fluff :) lemme know if there are any other content warnings that should be added

Remus Lupin was the perfect gentleman. He knew when to say please and thank you. He offered to carry his friend's books. He held open doors for others and said good morning to everyone who came and went. He had these manners drilled into him as a child. He even reminds James when he should say please and thank you, and he gets on to Sirius when he says something rude. Remus Lupin happened to be a perfect guy in general. Obviously, he is not without his faults, but he is at least mindful and caring.

Knowing this, it still shocks you when he asks if he can help you while kneeling on the ground. His wide hazel eyes looking up into your suprised eyes with his hands on your hips.

It's dizzying to even think how you got into this situation. Remus and you were assigned together on a project for transfiguration. You both had decided it was best to work in his room. Remus and you were close friends up until now. Sometimes, you had wished you were more than friends, but you normally discard those thoughts almost immediately so as not to ruin your friendship. As of late, though, you seem to find yourself thinking about him more in a less friendly manner. Some of these thoughts have turned into dreams of a sexual nature. This has left you sexually frustrated in all the wrong ways. At this particular moment, your eyes happened to land upon Remus's hands as they were writing. His hands are quite big, and his fingers are long and slender. With that being said, you begin to get lost in thought. You hadn't really even noticed you were staring until Remus spoke up, "Hey, are you okay? You've been spacey all day."

There he goes again with being the perfect gentleman. Concerned for your well-being while looking at you with the softest eyes anyone has ever laid upon you. You hadn't even realized you were staring until now. You felt a pink heat rise to your cheeks as you turned around and muttered that you're fine. Remus had decided to let it be. That was until you both had accidentally touched hands while reaching for something, and you had flinched and backed away. He looked at you as if he hurt you. He opens his mouth as if to ask you something but falters until he finds the courage to speak up, "Okay, something is up with you, and i want to know what's bothering you. I didn't do anything to make you uncomfortable, did i?"

There he goes again. Sometimes, you wish he wasn't so kind. Maybe you would be able to tell him your thoughts a little easier if he wasn't such a good person. You looked up at him, and he was staring at you with such tenderness in his eyes. You could look into his eyes all day if he kept looking at you like that. You proceed to softly whisper, "I'm just...frustrated right now, and i can't quite focus." You put your book down and stand up to walk around and to try and get those thoughts out of your head. "Why are you frustrated? Did i do something to make you upset? I apologize if i did." He states. He hesitates slightly and says, "Is there anything i can do to make up for it?" You just stand there staring at him in disbelief. You don't quite understand the insecurity in his voice when he apologized. Why does he feel the need to apologize for something he did not do? You look at him as if he is the world, and you hope he understands what it means. You scoff before answering, " You didn't do anything. I just...I can't stop thinking about you." You barely whisper that last part. You continue, "I have just been having thoughts that lead to me being frustrated. You don't have to apologize for anything." You look down at your feet, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

"What kind of thoughts?" This question shocks you a little, and you don't know how to answer it without potentially ruining a good friendship. You hesitate to answer, and Remus notices this. He gets up and walks to where you are standing. His hand meets your face and brings your head up to look him in the eyes. He lets out a breathy whisper, "Please - just please tell me." And with that, you try to look away but end up being drawn back by the soft look he is giving you. With a warm blush rising onto your cheeks again, you let out a whisper, "the thoughts are - sexual." And with that, Remus lets go of your face and drops to his knees. His hands find purchase upon your hips and those soft and kind eyes of his look up into yours from where he is kneeling. He proceeds to ask, "Please, can i help?" He has always been the perfect gentleman, yet this still shocks you. You say in a breathy whisper, "Yes, please." You always knew he was a perfect gentleman, but you really learned that night how he is perfect in more ways than one.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #maraduers #the marauders #the marauders x reader

[jeanbie]

WORDLESS #5 ★ masterlist.

pairing: levi x reader

genre: sugar daddy & contract killer au | warnings: implied violence, establishing feelings, mentions/references to john wick & the continental | wc: 6.8k

note: who expected me to actually finish this? (answer: no one) i'm so glad that i got to finish "wordless" and put these two losers in a place they deserve to be in! this chapter is the finale and also almost entirely from levi's pov, and this one flows in a chronological order :)

★ ch1. ch2. ch3. ch4. ch5

⏤ Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Levi over the edge if he hears them again. But maybe he's ready now.

(41) Giving them space when they express wanting to have some time alone.

It’s been a hot second since Levi saw you — and it’s killing him more than he’d care to admit.

Since the blow up in the shower over girls he wasn’t fucking in the first place, Levi hasn’t heard from you, and he hasn’t made much of an effort to reach out either.

Why did he even lie? There was no benefit from telling you he was seeing other girls; the only reason he said that so often was to manage the healthy boundaries between you, to remind you not to get too close, to remind himself that being with you is a risk.

Not that pushing you away has made his life any easier. On the contrary, he thinks it’s made everything worse.

It is almost dehumanising to admit it to himself, but he misses you. Since your rather unconventional first meet — which was a far cry from any ‘meet cute’ that normal situationships had — Levi has been telling himself that the circumstances surrounding you being in his life were unique at best, and that you weren’t permanent.

But now, he lives his life around a ghost of your body, making room for you in his home, making time out of his schedule, making arrangements to keep you happy. 

Okay. Maybe it’s a little bit too late to acknowledge the feelings he has for you. Levi knows they’re there — he’s not an idiot. But making those feelings real is something he just can’t afford to do. Not yet. Not while there’s too much going on in his life.

Still, he stares longingly at the door every night when he staggers back home, as if hoping you might take him by surprise and crawl back into his arms. Not that you do, at least not for a while; not until Levi grows fed up of waiting and finds you first.

But for now, he’ll grant you he space that you need, the space you deserve. And in the meantime, he’ll try and make peace with the waging war in his head.

(42) Holding their hand while walking, even if there isn’t a crowd.

“This is nice.”

The neighbourhood Levi now lives in is much smaller than the last one. It pales in comparison to the condo it took forever to finally move out of, but having consistent security breaches just for a tiring view of the river didn’t feel worth it for Levi anymore. It made no difference to him if the apartment he all but owns for you is much farther away — you’re barely ever there, anyway.

Since putting his angst to rest, and since making it known to you that you’re quite literally the only woman he likes enough to keep buying houses for and invite over, things have been calm between you.

There’s still a strange unspoken thing, the remains of an agreement made out of convenience so long ago, to feed both the lust and pride Levi wanted and the safety you craved; but in general, Levi acknowledges that what he has with you right now feels like the closest thing he’s had to a partner in a long, long time.

Levi looks over at you, feeling your hand tighten in his as you cross a cute little park covered in flowery bushes and beds of tulips. 

“I’m glad my neighbourhood has your stamp of approval,” he replies, tightening his fingers around yours before pulling up slightly to stuff your joined hands into his pocket. Though it’s spring now, there’s still a bite in the air, a chill that Levi is determined to shelter you from.

“Technically,” you start, and Levi can predict, like a robot, what you’ll say next, and mouths the words as they fall from your lips, “it’s mine, too.” Your eyes turn piercing as you scowl at him, “Hey! Don’t…predictive text me.”

“Then stop being so predictable.”

“I think we spend too much time together,” you mutter, looking back at the flowerbed you’re currently passing by.

Levi scoffs to himself and playfully scratches a nail against the hand lodged in his pocket.

“Then go away,” he says. No chance, is what runs through his head, and the coy smile you flash him is as equally predictable as the word he knows you’ll say next, starting with n and ending in o.

(43) Holding shopping bags that are too heavy for them.

Ever since Levi figured out how to share locations, he’s become obsessed with watching you move around on the map on his phone. Numerous times, he’s slipped up on spending hours watching your little circle move, sometimes not even moving at all.

If you had any complaints, he hasn’t heard them, though he very much doubts that you’ll complain in the future now that his stalking has worked out in your favour.

You might have initially thought that bumping into Levi outside the supermarket was a rather delightful coincidence — that was until he moved across the city, and has no real business in your area unless it concerns you.

“Perfect timing,” you say once you see him crossing the small car park in your direction. He has half a mind to pretend he hasn’t seen you and keep walking, but watching you struggle with your shopping is painful enough.

He grunts, reaching for the bag that is squeezing the blood from your fingers. “Don’t get proud about it.”

Sniggering, you happily let Levi grab the overweight bags and fall into an even step beside him. 

“Why do you have so much stuff?” Levi huffs. To be fair, the bags aren’t that heavy, but he can’t see any reason for you to have bought so much considering you live at his house more often than you do your own. “You gonna share this shit?”

“If you want,” you reply. “You paid for it.”

His tongue clicks. Levi hasn’t paid you a penny since he last felt guilty about the fact he rarely paid you, despite that being the very foundation of your relationship in the first place, but even with what he paid you and hasn’t since that point, he knows your bank account is more than comfortable. Paying for all of this has barely made a dent, but that’s what the money’s there for.

He makes his way to his car pulled up outside the car park turning in a layby and struggles in his pocket for his keys.

“I live five minutes away,” you remind him, steps slowing. 

“No, you just said you’d share it, so we're going to mine.”

With a sigh, you’re left with no other choice but to follow him to his car. “You know, the romance of you carrying my bags is lost now you’ve only walked it to the car.”

Before he pops open the boot of the car, he turns to you and sneers, “You want me to walk back and let you do it yourself?”

There’s no argument to be had. You get into the car.

(44) Standing between them and a busy road.

Habits. Levi hates to keep track of how many he’s developed since you entered his life almost two years ago. Time has gone by so quickly since the day he first met you, in the worst way possible, but since then, he’s transformed into a whole new person, a whole new paranoid man who overthinks everything because there’s no other option.

His habits as of late include worrying about you whenever you’re not around — whenever he’s at work, he’ll think of you. Whenever he’s in a different city or country, Levi will obsessively worry over what you might be doing, who might be on your trail, scenting your every move while you’re vulnerable. Another habit includes feeling like an overbearing parent even when he’s in the same five mile radius, but at least he’s self aware of it.

If you’ve noticed Levi becoming more clingy, less like who he swore he’d never change from, you haven’t mentioned it yet. Perhaps a small mercy to save him the mortifying task of admitting that he has feelings stored away for you. 

Today, Levi has fallen victim to his habits of worry and has walked himself all the way to your university just to walk you all the way back home. His home, not yours. In a sense, your home, too. In an unspoken way.

Levi stands waiting for you in the overhang, gaze trained on the thick grey sky until he hears your class file out of the building in a chatter. Sasha is who he sees first, followed by another one of your friends he’s never met but has seen on Instagram once or twice, and then he sees you, looking thankfully in good spirits, and all too beautiful for your own good.

When you see him standing with his hands in his pockets, he allows himself the pleasure of pride when you break away from your friends just to join him, the smile on your face so genuine and radiant that he has to scoff in amusement.

“Hey, you,” you call, falling into his arms. 

“Hey, yourself.”

“I didn’t know you were coming today,” you confess, pulling away to stare curiously at his withdrawn expression. Levi is already twisting an arm around your waist to walk you down the step and across the lawn. “I told Sasha I’d go to her café and wait for her shift to end. Didn’t you have that thing today?”

“What thing?” he mutters.

“The thing with Erwin. And some deadbeat called George, or something.”

“How many Korean men do you know named George?” Levi deadpans, though his arm does tighten around you in caution. “You shouldn’t even know about that. How do you even know?”

The busy road widens into view as you leave the closed campus. Levi’s pretty much counting the days before you graduate and never have to come here again, and the time is passing strangely slow in that department. It feels like it’s been ages since you enrolled, and he wants nothing more than for you to leave and become the greatest journalist in the world — or whatever it is you even want to do when you’re done. 

As you walk, you lean into Levi’s side, furthering the distance between yourself and the road bustling with cars and buses. He frowns.

One of your habits since the accident on the bridge with your family had been to avoid busy roads, as if convinced something might happen again. You’ve told him numerous times that it’s irrational, but Levi doesn’t think so. It’s a very normal thing to feel afraid of everything, even when those things are a little on the unrealistic side.

Naturally, it results in Levi sliding his arm from around your waist and replacing it with his other one, positioning himself between you and the chaotic lines of commuting cars going home.

His heart flips when you smile at him for it, linking your arm around his while moving your waist out of his grip. Levi tries not to let it get to his head how much you trust him, how much he cares for you. But by the minute, he’s losing the will to keep it hidden.

(45) Rubbing the back of their hand with a thumb.

Back to habits, there are some that Levi has that he’s not particularly as proud of. But, as expected, you’re as good as it gets, and any habit he thinks he might have gotten away with hiding, somehow you pick up on it.

Levi flicks through a blueprint laying flat over his kitchen table, his hands nervously drumming the edge of the tabletop as he tries to memorise the elaborate labyrinth of a building he’ll be breaking into later to find his next hit. Usually, Levi has you at his home before and just after taking a job, just to eliminate the threat of you being hurt as a punishment. 

He wishes that the company gave you unrestricted entry and protection without him being there to clear it, but in order for that privilege, Levi needed to address you as his partner, which just felt like an even larger target on your head. So, he settles for his home, though the worry does not cease.

This building is riddled with passageways and vaults, basement levels with so many access points that studying them feels intense. One wrong recollection could come at the cost of his life, and at the minute, his life has increased in value. Things are finally going right for him, it would be a shame to have it all taken away from him again.

A text from Erwin sounds next to him, and Levi all but glances at the screen to see what’s happening. All assistance available should he need it — he almost sighs with relief at the words.

In the past, Levi had thought he could never work in cohorts with other hitmen, but becoming partners with Erwin and his henchmen has been working in his favour. 

Still, it doesn’t hurt to learn the layout off by heart. So, Levi pours himself over the blueprints and maps, memorising every detail, becoming so engrossed in it that he barely even hears you letting yourself inside of his apartment.

Your shoes hit the wall with a noise that makes him suddenly aware of your arrival, and he glances up to see you peeking into the kitchen, eyes scanning the room for any unfortunate signs of Elio before you approach him.

He notices the street market bag and inhales the smell of spice before looking back at the maps. “Hope you’re gonna share that.”

“Of course,” you reply, offended he even thought you might not. You place the container of tteokbokki on the table before sliding around to his side, eyes glued to the rolls of paper. “Where’s this?”

“Less you know, the better,” he mutters, leaning his head into your mouth as you kiss his jaw. 

For a while, you say nothing, letting Levi memorise what he needs to while you assess the prints for yourself. Eventually, you shift your hand over his and squeeze, making him glance at you sideways. 

You’re looking at him already, though you can’t see his eyes from the way he’s hunched over. Spotting Levi’s signs of anxiety must be incredibly easy, because somehow you’ve caught on, and begin to rub the back of his hand with your thumb, nose pressed into his bicep. 

“Come eat,” you suggest quietly, after a while of basking in the silence with him.

He grunts, a typical Levi sound, and nudges you away. Though, you only shuffle to the drawer to fetch two forks — forks! He scoffs, rolling his shoulders as he rounds the table to take one from your fingers. 

“Easier to stab with a fork,” you offer as an explanation.

“If my mother was here to see me eating tteokbokki with a fork, she’d lose her goddamn mind.”

“Well…” You start, trailing off after a moment. You’ve got nothing to say; he’s won the argument just by bringing Kuchel up, and both of you know it.

Scowling, you stab another wedge of tteok and chew it furiously, meanwhile Levi smirks to himself, victorious.

(46) Giving them a back massage when they flop on the couch or bed.

“I need to retire. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

“No way. How old are you now, like, twenty eight?”

“…I’m thirty.”

“Best looking thirty year old I’ve ever seen. Roll over, I’ll massage your back, if you want?”

If he ever refuses a massage from you, he’s an idiot.

Levi rolls over ungraciously, hitting the mattress on his stomach with a low groan. He rolls his shoulders, the bones cracking comically loud, and as you shuffle up to straddle his back, he groans again.

“Oh fuck off, I’m not heavy.”

Levi sniggers into the pillow, though as soon as your hands start to work their magic, he moans, the pleasure instantaneous. 

“Make a house back there, if you want. Just don’t stop.”

(47) Staying up half the night to finish a game with them.

“I can’t do it if you’re not here, Levi. You need to get over here.”

“Do you not see that I’m trying?”

“You’re terrible at this game.”

Levi scoffs. He wouldn’t be so terrible if he actually knew how to play properly. His character begins to run in circles without him even asking him to, and Levi growls angrily.

“Fucks sake, this bitch is pissing me off.” Then, he wrangles the controller from your hands as you protest and says, “You be him instead.”

“But I don’t want to be Cody.”

“Me neither.”

As soon as you start moving little Cody around, Levi peers in scrutiny at the controller in your hand and how it so suddenly has stopped drifting on its own. There’s a circular dent in your inner cheek where your tongue is, and Levi scowls in your direction.

“You were sabotaging me,” he accuses, eyes focused back on May as she stumbles around uncoordinatedly.

“I think you’re just really bad,” you reply. Cody is moving fine, and finally, the mechanism moves and the story can progress. Hm.

Levi’s eyes bore into yours as you shift to face him, elbows snug in the blanket bundled around you both. Levi has been laying low for around two weeks now — he’s surprised with just how much he likes not having to work. Though, there have been a few times whilst playing this infuriating game where Levi has wished to be anywhere else. 

“You’re good at a lot of things,” you tell him sincerely, “but just not games. And that’s okay. You tried.”

“I’m good at games,” he replies, offended.

You raise your eyebrows, “Like what?”

“Your animal living game.”

“Animal Crossing?”

“Sure, that too.”

All Levi has ever done on Animal Crossing is make a character and proceed to hit everybody with his fishing net, not to mention dig holes around your front door so you can��t get out. Still, you say nothing — the look of disbelief speaks volumes to Levi and he rolls his eyes, turning back to May as she wanders off to the side of the screen and falls off.

Okay. He’s bad at games. That he’ll admit. But you like it, and by the time he’s gotten the hang of the controls, it’s already four in the morning.

(48) Getting them a coffee just the way they like it.

Remember those habits?

“You remembered!”

If not just to see your smile, Levi likes to bring you one of the expensive bags of coffee from Erwin’s studio. You could quite easily buy the bags yourself, but there’s no thrill in ordering something and having it arrive in due time, not like there is in making Levi steal three at a time as he leaves a meeting or training session.

Levi sets the bags with a loud thud by the coffee machine and hums. 

“And you got me a drink!”

Yes. He has also become a barista and familiarised himself with the exact way you like to drink your coffee. The takeout cup he also borrowed from Erwin is placed down by your laptop as you relentlessly type away at an assignment at Levi’s kitchen table, and he presses a kiss to your temple and mutters under his breath.

“Thanks, babe,” you say, already sipping at the steamy contents.

“It’s hot,” he points out. “You’ll only cry when you singe all your taste-buds off.”

“I will not—” You slurp, then hiss, “Ow!”

“I warned you.”

(49) Buying them a special treat when you go out shopping.

You know what? No. Levi has given up on pretending like he doesn’t enjoy you being in his grill all day, every day, which is the reasoning for why he ends up in an expensive jewellery store with Erwin one day after a long haul of inspecting an upcoming raid location.

In all honesty, Levi wants to put his work to rest once the raid is all over. It will be their riskiest ploy to date, and quite frankly, Levi’s tired. He’s been killing people for years, cutting at the humanity he has left, and back in the day he would have been very comfortable with being a monster, killing until he was killed.

But now he had you. Now, Levi had someone to care about, so deeply and so passionately that it often left him feeling sick.

“That’s called love, Levi,” is what Erwin had said when Levi chose the rare option of opening up when he tried to explain why he wanted to retire early. 

“Love,” he scoffed. But then Erwin had said something profoundly wholesome, leaving Levi with a bitter taste in his mouth.

“You’re not unloveable just because you loved nothing for so long. I know it took you awhile to get back to where you are now, but just because love went wrong once before doesn’t mean it has to again. Besides, almost two years of your bullshit and that woman is still there — I don’t think you need to be worried about her pulling away from you once you tell her how you feel.”

Which roughly translated to: Buy her something nice and quash until you can’t any longer.

Once Levi gets home, he hears you giggling at something and finds you with a book over your face, your legs kicking as you squeal like a goblin. His face twists and he asks, “That book got jokes in it, or something?”

You peer around the spine and look at him. “They kissed. They. Kissed!”

“Who kissed?” Levi makes his way to the couch and takes a seat where you were just lying down. The cushions are warm — you’ve been here a while, and the thought makes him smile. 

“Evangeline and Jacks. It’s all so perfect. I didn't like most of the book, but what matters is that they kissed,” you tell him, a little too excited. You plant your feet in Levi’s lap. “I love love, Levi. It is the greatest. I love books. Men written by women!”

“Why are you giggling over other men in my own house?” 

“I giggle over you when you’re not around, too.”

He hums once from the back of his throat, watching as you mark the page with your bookmark and close the book before crawling into his lap and curling into his arms. He welcomes you instinctively, the blocky shape of the ring he bought in his pocket.

After smooching your lips for a long fifteen minutes, Levi pulls away and reaches for the box. “Got something for you.”

“Ooh, show me!”

He produces the little box and hands it to you, but when your eyes round and you hesitate in taking it, he worries.

“I’m not proposing,” he says quickly.

“Thank god. I was about to be very upset,” you sigh dramatically, finally taking the ring box. “Most unromantic proposal ever.”

“The fact you think I’d be that lousy with a proposal is actually really offensive.”

The genuine grumble in his voice puts a flutter in your stomach, though soon after, it simmers into a cool pit of shock when you flip open the box and see the most delicate, gorgeous ring that you’ve ever seen in your life, not counting ones you ogle in shopfronts.

Cautiously, you lift your head to peer at Levi’s expression. It’s not a proposal — he’s just told you so, and considering you’re not even his girlfriend in official terms yet, it seems unlikely that anything like that will be happening soon. But it has to be more than just an offhanded purchase, and you’re determined to figure out.

Levi’s eyes tremble as he looks between you and the ring. “Is it ugly?”

You immediately shake your head, “Of course not!”

“Put it on, then,” he urges. The steady beat of his heart stutters out of tempo. Suddenly, he feels quite nervous as he watches you take out the ring and study its appearance up close. “Need help?”

“Yeah, it’s so hard, I can’t figure out how to put it on. Needs instructions.”

Levi tuts and gently takes the ring from between your fingers, grabbing your ring finger whilst trying to look as casual as possible. Somehow, he manages to slide the ring on without making a fool of himself, but when he looks back at your face and sees gemstones of your own lining your waterline, he frowns.

“I’m not gonna sit here and give a speech,” he starts. By now, you know him better than that. He’s never opened up about his feelings to you, at least not without feeling regretful of it the morning after, and you nod simply, eyes catching the glint of the diamond. “But you know why I’ve bought it. I don’t need to tell you what you already know.”

And he doesn’t. Somehow, despite Levi being tremendously unromantic, having no manners, and in general being a terrible companion, you at least know that he cares. And with his upcoming job creeping up on you both, it doesn’t require an above-average intelligence to work out why this ring came when it did, what it means if things go south, what it means regardless.

“I know,” you tell him. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

Instead of saying anything, Levi curls you tighter in his arms and presses a kiss to your forehead, closing his eyes when you snuggle your face into his collar and relax. 

His mind has been made, his plans set. As soon as the job is over, he doesn’t want to look back. Only forward, with the woman who has made him feel alive again.

(50) Giving them a tight hug that makes them lose their breath.

Something is wrong. Something is horribly wrong, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

It has been days since Levi told you he’d touched down in New York, working out some stuff in the very famous Continental until he was set to join Erwin on whatever mission they had planned and prepared for. Levi hadn’t told you the details this time because the risks were too high, and now, it feels like a major setback. 

New York is on fire, and Levi barely kept his life getting out of the Silver Sword compound. An entire mob wiped out by two guys with no backup — it was practically unprecedented, unseen or unheard of since John Wick was knocking around. 

The Continental had done everything right in the aftermath, including keeping Levi in their small infirmary for days whilst tending to his excessive wounds. Fuck, he had been so reckless, so vengeful, so stupid. It had almost cost him his life ensuring that no leads followed him and Erwin back to Seoul, and although he had succeeded in destroying every last bit of incriminating evidence, the risks had been too great. 

When Levi finally gets discharged from the infirmary, it is almost eleven in the evening, and New York has finally calmed down and settled in for the night. Erwin greets Levi in the lobby, a frown on his face, holding a destroyed black bundle of phone parts that bear a striking resemblance to Levi’s missing device. He swears.

Levi hasn’t heard from you since he got here. Since the last risky job he took in Gwangju last year, you’ve never been lax while he’s been away; he can almost imagine your fear, your paranoia, and before he can even hear Erwin’s well wishes, Levi’s crossing the lobby for the customer payphone and dialing in your number.

The line rings twice before someone picks up.

“Baby?” Levi asks, after three attempts of saying your name and no coherent response. He cranes his head around the curly wire and glares at the clerk, though she looks less than pleased being interrupted by Levi, “Is this a global line?”

“Obviously, sir. It’s a telephone.”

“I fucking know it’s a telephone, but if it’s global, then why the hell isn’t it working?”

The girl gives him grief about his manners and Levi is forced to give up on calling you, slamming down the phone angrily and feeling his body growing hotter and hotter with worry.

He knows you're fine, in his house with the big cat you hate to love, but he knows you. He knows how you operate, how you worry, how you love him too much.

“Look, we’ll catch the first flight we can,” Erwin assures him as soon as Levi has caught his breath and taken a seat on one of the black leather sofas. His hands are shaking violently. “She’s fine. I promise.”

“I know she’s fine,” Levi grumbles.

“Then get a hold of yourself,” sighs Erwin, his frown low and face tired. “There’s nothing you can do but wait. I’ve got people waiting on me, as well, you know.”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“Dogs miss their owners just as much as girlfriends miss their boyfriends,” Erwin protests, because that’s all he has back home these days.

There had been a time where you had offered to set him up with your friend, Sasha, who deserved to be with a man who could handle her energy but also make her feel safe after her last terrible relationship, but Erwin is basically married to his work, and had got a dog despite Sasha being deathly allergic.

Still, Levi’s not heartless enough to know that Erwin isn’t missed by his dog, and probably other people in his life. And he’s right, there’s nothing he can do about the connection problems. All he can do is reign in his worries and wait.

The earliest flight they can find is the next morning, and Levi spends every second up to that point and up until he pulls up outside of his house in a complete state of panic. Would you be there? Did you leave, thinking he’d never come back? 

Levi abandons his bag and leaves it in the backseat as he sprints from the car up the stairs, past his front door, and into his house. He kicks off his shoes once he’s in, the door hitting the wall with a booming slam.

He hears what he thinks might be scuffles, potentially even Elio’s claws, and right as Levi calls out your name, he sees you round the corner with a blotchy red face and feels his arms stretching out for you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” You slam into his chest, almost taking him to the floor, and encircle your arms around his neck so hard that the breath knocks out of his lungs. Still, he isn’t even annoyed; he squeezes you so tightly, tighter than he’s ever hugged anyone before, and shoves his face into your neck, inhaling the smell, feeling the way your body felt in memories while he was away. 

“I’m sorry,” he says in a whisper, his features tugged in displeasure as you whimper into him, no doubt crying over his shirt. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“I thought you were dead!” you blurt, “I even cried on Elio’s back because I thought you had died! What’s the point in having a phone if you never pick it up or charge it?” You snatch yourself from his arms and gently beat against his chest with your fist. “I’m so pissed off at you!”

“I’m sorry that my phone got crushed,” he says, affronted that you would even think he’d ignore your calls on purpose. “I was in a hospital bed for three days! And then the bitchy receptionist got smart with me about their shitty phone, and I called but the line cut out. Sounded like a goddamn robot, I couldn’t hear a word you were saying.”

Your jaw drops, “That was you? I thought you’d died and some enemy gang guy was trying to call me to kill me!” Levi has to laugh at the look of worry on your face. He hasn’t been cared for in this way in a long time. Never been loved to this volume. “I unplugged the landline, I was so scared! Jesus Christ, Levi!” Then, like you never left, you rush back into his arms and let out a shaky cry. 

“You did the right thing,” he tells you. Unplugging the landline was the silliest thing he could have ever thought of, but then he realises that you’re still here, and that you made peace with Elio just because you thought he had died.

Levi strokes the back of your head and shushes you, feeling your heartbeat hammering furiously against his chest. His is most likely the same, though he’s not so eager to acknowledge his own feelings.

After a while of standing there, and after Levi’s stroked behind Elio’s ears when he prowls towards them and rubs his head on Levi’s trousers, Levi looks back at you softly and takes everything in.

He has missed you more than anything, grieved the missing piece of his soul that is shaped like you. And, while he’s at it, yes! Fucking hell! He loves you!

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you tell him, and Levi kisses you, his hands cradling your face. The kiss is firm, desperate, though he has no intention of walking you backwards towards the bedroom like he normally does after a job.

Instead, he pulls you in for a hug again. 

“I missed you,” he mutters. “So fucking much.”

“Me too.”

He says with his mouth pressed into your head, “I’m done with this shit. I’m not taking any more jobs.”

You twist out of his arms, eyebrows raised. “Really? Why? You love your job.”

“I hate my job,” Levi confesses. “I have too much to lose. I just wanna live my life. And make it all count for something.”

For a moment, you stand there, looking at his face so intently that he almost feels uncomfortable. But then, as a smile spreads over your face, Levi feels like he can finally breathe again, finally feel like himself.

“Alright. If that’s what you want, babe, then let’s do that.”

And we can do it together.

(51) Getting adjusted.

Levi forgot what it was like to be normal.

He now wakes up at whatever time he wants to, feeling next to him for the lump in the bed where you sleep. Once he knows you’re still there (because despite being retired, he doesn’t think the habit of making sure you’re safe will ever go away), Levi wakes up and starts his day. 

Coffee for one becomes coffee for two. Levi never has to eat breakfast on his own, never sits alone on the sofa or sits in silence at the kitchen table. Levi has lost half of his sink counter space to your belongings, lost half of his wardrobe to your own clothes. There are so many shoes by his front door that it looks like a storefront. 

Elio has a mother, in a strange, estranged, visitation-hours-only kind of way. Levi has made room for you in his life and you fit perfectly, so perfectly that he barely remembers what it ever felt like to live alone.

The shower is always filled with two people. Levi finds your things all over the house in the most bizarre places. He has candles on every coffee table, pictures in frames, finds your cardigans hanging over every chair. But he loves it. He loves it so much. He can’t imagine ever not having it, having you, having this life.

(52) Finally saying the words.

“This is my first time using this thing.”

“What?” you gasp as Levi comes to sit next to you on the balcony.

Elio yawns inside, sleeping on the couch. It is partly his fault that Levi’s out here in the first place, though the thought of being tucked beside you on the outdoor couch in a blanket, watching the sun sink behind the skyline, is thankfully rather appealing, and he voices no complaints.

Levi takes a swig of his whiskey and abandons the cup on the table, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close. It’s not exactly cold tonight, but he knows you too well, and knows that within an hour, you’ll be dithering next to him.

“Imagine having a balcony and never using it.”

“I’m using it now,” Levi huffs, pinching your neck. You squeal, “Fuck off, it didn’t hurt.”

You’ve been officially living in Levi’s home for two months now, although sometimes it feels like you’ve always been here. Still, despite you making yourself very much at home on the inside, neither of you have once come out to sit on the balcony, to bask in the lovely sun as it settles for the night, not until today. 

“When’s Erwin coming?”

“Bout an hour or so,” Levi says in a low drawl, his head tilted back and hand massaging the side of your head. It had been your idea to invite a bunch of people over to your house — the house you now shared — and frightfully, Levi hadn’t opposed. It would be nice to share the wealth of simply being alive with people he now had the patience to care about. 

You shuffle to look at him, and Levi picks up his head at the sound of you moving. Like always, Levi thinks you look beautiful, but since he’s made you his girlfriend, it has felt like every time he looks at you, he can’t breathe properly.

“I’m excited. This is our first time hosting a party together,” you grin, while Levi thumbs your ear and smiles. “Do you think Elio will eat Erwin’s dog?”

“No. Elio’s moved back onto a pescatarian diet, so I think Erwin’s mutt will be safe.”

“Good. I bought him a bone, do you think he’ll like it?”

“He’s a dog. Yes, I expect, why are you asking me this?” Levi asks, eyebrows scrunched, though he pulls you close to where his mouth is and kisses you straight on the lips. “Stop stressing.”

“I can’t help it. I’m nervous! It’s all so serious! What if nobody likes our house?”

He shrugs. “I don’t give a shit who does or doesn’t like our house. It’s ours.”

“Hnnngh. And I want you to have a good time!” you whine. “You deserve a bit of fun in your life.”

“My life is always fun now that you’re my girlfriend.”

He’s instantly won himself brownie points by saying that.

“Just tell me if it gets too much,” you mutter, lips on his, mouths together. “Okay?”

Levi hums. “Yeah.” Then, after he’s kissed you three more times and felt his heart shake, he nudges his nose against yours and says, “I love you, y’know that, right?”

You pause, eyes rounding wide as you take in the sight of him. Levi has never said those words before, not explicitly. But now is as good a time as any, right?

Levi has spent far too much of his life withdrawing from his emotions, hiding away from what matters most out of a fear of caring too much. In the past, he had cared too much and lost it all. You were never supposed to be something he cared about, but when it had happened, it happened so fast he hadn’t had the time to make sense of it all.

But now, now that he’s been through it all with you, ticked every box imaginable, become comfortable being vulnerable again, Levi thinks he’s finally ready to accept the love he deserves and dole it out to those who mean the most to him.

Your mouth moves against his, though he can’t understand the words coming out. He laughs, confused, and somehow manages to pull away and ask, “What’re you even saying?”

All for you to blubber out in a laugh, “I’ve been waiting for ages for you to say that!”

His heart bursts, chest soars. “You could have said it first.”

“I’ve said it before,” you protest, “in actions.”

He scoffs, “So have I.”

And he has, you really can’t deny it.

“Say it again, won’t you?” you ask sweetly, kissing the corner of his mouth, and Levi sighs, like asking that of him is simply too much.

“I love you. You make me very happy.” Levi groans when you cackle and squish the breath out of him with a hug, but this time, he sniggers too. Why waste the moment on pretending to be indifferent when he’s actually the happiest he’s ever been?

Levi Ackerman can finally say that he feels good. He feels safe, he feels content, he feels comfortable — and most of all, he feels loved. And in love. And totally at peace in the world with the person who makes him the happiest.

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi #aot levi #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #levi smut #levi ackerman smut #jeanbie

[a-little-revolution]

How do you go about getting a date as a little person? What safety measures do you take if any when meeting new people? How did you handle people who had a fetish for it or those kind of uncomfortable situations? Is it easier to find sex than romance? Obviously feel free to not answer anything you don't wanna. Thanks

Hi there!

For the most part I go about getting dates like most people lol I use dating apps, some things blossom out of friendships, etc. I do however do a lot more vetting than most before meeting people for the first time, or considering someone as a romantic/sexual partner. I ask questions like;

Do they know other disabled people, or am I the only one/their first?

How would they introduce me to a friend or colleague? How comfortable are they with dating me?

What are their opinions on disability and access? Do they think about it day to day? Have some of their opinions/language raised any red flags?

What sort of dwarf content do they consume? Are they fans of austin powers or willy wonka? (yikes)

How do they view my body? Are they afraid to touch me, nervous to ask me questions, etc?

Is their lifestyle mostly active, or do they enjoy activities where I can participate?

There's a lot that I consider when sorting out whether a potential partner is worth my time, just as we all do. But as a disabled person there's an added layer of safety and respect that I need to establish. Luckily in the world of the internet, I can avoid a lot of awkwardness by doing it over text before I even meet a person - I can at least establish a baseline wherein the person isn't outwardly ableist.

But ableism is something that can live in the nooks and crannies of a person - even my closest friends are still unlearning ableism as they go. So I have to find a balance where I allow people the benefit of the doubt, while also upholding my own values and boundaries.

How did you handle people who had a fetish for it or those kind of uncomfortable situations? Is it easier to find sex than romance?

The people who have outwardly expressed a dwarf fetish to me have mostly been men on grindr - I usually do not interact. However, there is a sub-sector of the dwarf kink where it shakes hands with p*dophilia, and those people get reported in every way that I can.

Sex has indeed been easier to find than romance, by it's nature. And my uniqueness tends to draw a lot of attention. But as I've said, I am rather picky about sexual partners and I keep a lot of things in mind to ensure my safety and comfort.

#asks #dwarfism and sexuality #dwarfism #dwarfism awareness #disability

[coveredinsun]

reblogs very appreciated! <3

#reblog this please!!!!!!!!!! #because i love polls. and getting results on polls❤️

[suffarustuffaru]

The fanbase is scaring me, the redesigns brought up some weird people that are REALLY passionate about Liliana being half naked

Like theres a whole war going on on twitter rn and the poor character designer got harassed

My problem is with the amount of people upset with this, like i knew we had a bunch of pedos around because of the way tappei writes the girls, but damn i didnt think there were this many of them 💀

yes ive heard about that....... im answering your ask late oops haah but i hope the situations a Bit better..... the toxic parts of this fandom give me a headache but my usual motto is to stay off twitter, touch grass, ignore people, and then hold onto my own viewpoints unless proven wrong alsjdflsdj but like. yeah this fandom is a bit tough to stay in when it comes to certain circles (for example the amount of people low quality shitposting / ranting about the fandom or whatever on rezero ao3 atm in the past days/weeks is. mm. interesting). not my first time being in larger fandoms that make you sometimes feel like youre fighting in the trenches (you could name off a few big fandoms notorious for being toxic that date back to like 2016 and odds are ive been in a couple lajdlf) but yeah seeing people complain about liliana and capella's designs and then overly fixate on emilia's boobs when these three characters have more to bring to the table than just that and theres lots and lots of good things to say about the s3 trailer and their designs..... mm. yeah. im squinting hard at a few of the things ive heard on that. but anyway!!

like the new designs are an Improvement. In General. like ok, as a boob haver myself ("boob haver" is the funniest phrase to me alsdjfls but it is true nonetheless, i am one) i do not give a shit about emilias larger boobs like ok?? her boobs are bigger?? she is still my fav ever and sometimes it just happens when youre still a growing teen/young adult and emilias back to her more revealing main outfit when she wore a different outfit in s2 so the difference in chest size is really not that much. but liliana and capella? those are Improved designs. i think ive talked abt the treatment of underage characters / characters who appear underage on my blog before (and i definitely couldve worded myself better then but i stand behind the fact that some of the stuff otsuka and tappei do regarding this in rezero is just Unnecessary).

could designs like emilia's still be improved on in other ways? yeah 100%, just in the sense that there could probably be changed a bit to fit her slightly more timid and soft spoken personality. or you could take different directions on it in general if you wanted. ive seen some great redesigns of her main outfit!! though her main outfit in of itself is pretty nice to look at imo and its iconic and well-known for a reason. im of the personal opinion that i wish it was a little less revealing in the same vein that her s2 main outfit was (i like that outfit a lot!!) but its still a really solid design overall.

i had some faith after seeing the anime designers fix up typhoon's original design to be More Appropriate, and i love how the essence of liliana and capella's designs were kept the same. like its not just that theyre a little less revealing (and even then, theyre both still showing a lot of skin!!! which is good!!! i like the improvement while keeping the main stuff the same), but stuff like liliana's pants aren't transparent (probably to make it easier to animate?) and the yellow/orange gradient in capella's hair looks great!! they also both look more like grown women which is a bonus. unless youre Weird about this shit which is unfortunately a small percentage of the rezero community. like you cant win with those sort of people ig, bc capella's boobs are bigger too ljasdlfj youd think that win more people over.

also i appreciate capella's sports bra bc unlike elsa's outfit it Actually looks like it's supporting her chest. if youre someone with boobs and you dont have a flat chest, youre gonna need support when being active or itll Hurt. and elsa Does Not have proper chest support okay. ill forever wince remembering elsa's design in that sense HAH....

anyway but i digress. i got no clue what to do with toxic people in fandoms despite spending a lot of time lurking in large fandoms with loud toxic people haah.... its hard to do much about it especially with increasingly declining media literacy rates everywhere.... the notorious misogyny/homophobia/etc that can happen sometimes in anime communities.... that sort of thing. i kinda just avoid it when it comes to rezero in specific, or briefly talk about it on here, or rant about it to myself in my head or chat with pals about it in private if it really frustrates me that much!! and id say im a pretty patient person hah... im not frustrated often. and the fandom is not all weird people of course and i can attest to that as ive chatted with a lot of people here... ive also seen a lot of people leave due to the fandom's Issues which is. totally fair tbh.

and i think rezero is often a "baby's first fandom" so to speak... i dont mean that in a bad way of course but its more like its the first exposure to fandom and fandom etiquette and fic etiquette and that sort of thing when it comes to english circles. or at least its a pattern ive noticed, so my theory is that that occasionally that combines with toxic fans and then you get a few people complaining about the community and how bad our fics are on rezero ao3 ig lajdlfjsdlf. which is false by the way :<< and an annoying misuse of ao3 as a free creative archive :<<

but ultimately i hope the rezero character designer's alright (and honestly theyve done super super great work - like the anime Did Not need to give emilia a bajillion outfits and go above and beyond with improving liliana, capella, giving the suwens and their hometown a whole unique aesthetic, etc). and also while i have stuff to criticize with otsuka and tappei... and the toxic parts of the fandom hah... i still enjoy rezero apart from that and the uproar with the designs has not chipped away at me too much!! ive been in this fandom long enough i guess lmao i just roll with punches at this point T^T but i also just try to look on the bright side a lot in general so ;-;;;

these are the sorts of things i like to be aware about but i dont like to get myself super involved with it (since itll probably make it worse and/or make me stressed for no good reason lmfaoo) and i wont let it enjoy the parts of rezero that i do enjoy a lot (which is to say like. the other 98% of rezero hah). so. getting off twitter is the biggest godsend i promise lajdlsfj.

but anyway!! yeah i dont have much organized thoughts on all of this, this is just me rambling my feelings on it. hope this all makes sense anon <3

#idk how things are on the eastern side of the fandom but the western side can be a little. wild yes. #ask #i try to be as fair as possible in my opinions ljasldfjd but yeah like. people complaining about the designs. i dont agree with it for a Lo #t of reasons. and on a lighter note #honestly my only thing with capellas anime design is that her eyes arent more red!! :<< but her pink eyes look very nice too though <3 #i hope to see like a red-pink gradient on them maybe... thatd be cool...

[savage-rhi]

🫂😪

#hey I've been on a bit of a hiatus with writing and other projects #answering this cause ive had some anons asking for updates on drabble requests #leaving a toxic job that I endured for a year #getting a new job and new enviornment #finding out I had a whole ass other family I didn't know existed #and trying to keep up with the cost of living has taken a huge toll #on my mental health and wellbeing #to the point where I had to take time off my new job and go on a peer respite #i got back the other day and I'm doing better #but my mental health isn't 100% #and my chronic pain has been fluctuating a lot cause of stress #i know i don't owe anyone details about what i go through #but i like being transparent #and this makes it easier than answering 6-10 anons asking me for an update #i am not sure when im gonna fulfill drabble requests but they'll come when they come #and you can keep sending in stuff i dont mind it at all #just know i gotta take care of me right now #and I'll be slower answering stuff #take care of your mental health and bodies the best you can #im always rooting for ya #and to end on a good note #i got accepted into a masters program for clinical counseling and therapy #only 25 people could get in and somehow i got it #idk how im gonna get financial aid for it but im gonna try #im excited and nervous #i might have more vo stuff coming too idk yet but im trying not to do too much at once #if yall could do me a solid and drop something cool in the comments and let me know how your life is going id love that #especially if you got good news to share #i could use more of that right now #love you guys and here's a hug and a biscuit from me

[nellectronic]

someone needs to bully me into working on my thesis

#for some reason it’s so much easier to force #myself to get up and do an experiment #than to force myself to face the data analysis and writing #even tho the data analysis is the part that’s actually interesting #but alas i cannot do an experiment right now because we fucking ran out of toluene. #AND [other chemical i’m working with that someone in another lab has to make for us] #i can’t even bug my PI with my incessant questions bc she’s not here. probably busy with meetings or something. i sent her an email. #who knows when she’ll respond #not that she ever answers my questions anyway!!! she’s always like ‘well what do you think?’ #ik she’s doing it to build my confidence and bc she trusts my judgement but it’s kind of infuriating sometimes #anyway all this to say it’s just me vs. my word doc #plus a mountain of disorganized .txt files and even more disorganized corresponding .csv files #several google sheets #a handful of unprocessed FTIR spectra that theoretically i should know how to process and analyze (but really i haven’t the faintest clue) #and my reasonably well-organized lab notebook which somehow still feels like a nightmare to navigate because it’s in chronological order #and not organized by type of experiment #i do love my mad scientist job but sometimes it just feels like too many things #also surface science is not really my passion and i’m looking forward to doing something different in grad school #screams into the void

[bronzetomatoes]

I have been nothing but kind to you this is uncalled for tbh

😢

if the truth hurts that much then its time for you to face it

#look anika's talking! #its actually kinda funny none of my friends make fun of me for my zero bitches bc i fully own up to it #i'll call someone bitchless and they'll say it back just for 3 other people to remind them that im currently married to the grind #its a well known fact that im in a devoted relationship to academics #an idea for you bc it'll probably be easier for you to do that than for you to get some mfing game 😹😹 #answering an ask #clingyduoapologist

[thedaythealienscame]

got yelled at for being tired, hungry, and lonely. fuck this.

#it's not getting better it's just getting worse. #i hate bonding the rabbits i just wish everything would go smoothly and they'd all like each other #and i wouldn't get wounded on a daily basis trying to keep them calm #and that my mom would help for more than an hour. and that my brother would help for more than an hour. and that my dad would come home and #help at all #and that people would stop getting mad at me when i'm upset and don't know what to do but do know that their answers aren't helpful #i was feeling better before this all started and now i'm worse physically and mentally #and i wish that we had some food in the house that wasn't toast or oatmeal that didn't take hours of preparation #and i wish that i had an easier time sleeping and taking my meds #and i wish someone un this house fucking cared about what i have to say about my quality of living #because being alone for eight hours is not helping me #but who gives a shit anyway #vent

[sanstropfremir]

i was catching up on your queendom tag and i saw that you said someone sent you an ask about loona before the show started that you still haven’t answered because you plan on watching some of their stuff so i was curious to see if you’re still going to do that? anyway i loved reading your reviews as someone who has no idea about stage design costumes etc it was very informative <3

i'm glad you enjoyed them thank you!!! and yes i am! i'm just very behind because i'm slow and i get a lot of asks haha. just as an fyi for ppl i have drafts about:

forestella's save our lives

twice

loona

red velvet's feel my rhythm

kai's peaches

taemin's want (x2 lmao)

skz hyunjin

be mbitious

gdc (i'm SUPER behind on gdc sorry i will get to it eventually)

atarashii gakko

brown eyed girls

exid

jackson's blow

taemin's door

and a couple miscellaneous others that are not about specific groups or about non-kpop topics. i do a lot of research for everything that i answer so for groups i'm not familiar with it can take longer than for groups i know more about. i've also mentioned this in a couple of other responses before but the ones where people ask about groups in general can sometimes be more difficult for me to answer because i have to find an angle to talk about. which usually happens in the research phase, it's a whole process. ones that are about specific things like mvs etc are a lot easier (usually) for me to answer bc i already have a direct line of focus. this isn't a complaint or anything, please keep sending stuff in, but i thought it would be worthwhile to let all the new followers know why i sometimes take ages to answer things!

#like the billlie one today! the tiger inside cover popped up in my feed yesterday and i got a brainwave about it #none of this instant gratification social media here. it's slow form only lmao #some of these have been in my drafts for like a year at this point im so sorry #i see them all!! im just so slow. and some are easier to answer than others #also like. real life stuff happens too. and i'm not naturally a writer so churning out between 1k-3k of words a week is a lot for me #the total wordcount for my queendom reviews is i think nearly double my thesis...................... #i think for the kingdom reviews its almost triple #text #answers #update post! #surprisingly i dont actually get a lot of repeat asks