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◌ 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 ◌
hi. kiki here. she/they. i used to write a lot of x-reader fanfic and i still do from time to time, but now this blog is mostly just a clusterfuck of reblogs of things i like, including but not beholden to: anime, manga, horny stuff, formula 1, video games, books, bugs, etc.
i am a selfshipper. if we share a character, support me, and i will support you. if you don’t support or acknowledge my selfship, that’s fine, just don’t expect me to do the same for yours. we can still be cool regardless. i also enjoy and support many cc x cc ships.
fandoms: twisted wonderland, tokyo revengers, haikyuu, genshin impact, honkai star rail, one piece, formula 1 (rbr), stardew valley, cyberpunk 2077, asoiaf, and many more that i dabble in
◌ 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 ◌
✧ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✧
✧ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧
✧ 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 ✧
✧ 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐑𝐞𝐯? 𝐮𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐳 ✧
graphics, header, and masterlist header made by me. do not save or use as your own. dividers by @/firefly-graphics
wednesday 10th ˚₊ · »-♡→ day two of the @bokutone wedding event!!
╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ punksuna » sharing a drunk cigarette
i'm not a big drinker (lightweight 3000), but i'll probably have one (1) fruity little cocktail! i think it's fun when there are bride and groom drinks so i'd probably pick one of those, otherwise i love a vodka cran or a fruity gin and tonic, also not to be a basic bitch but after my single cocktail i will shamelessly be up there asking for a shirley temple…or making suna get it for me bc that's even more fun hehe
Suna does not like the taste of alcohol but he'll sip on my fruity cocktail if i offer it to him, i think he'll probably have a beer in his hand throughout the evening though
one thing we will absolutely be doing is having a little drunk cigarette, even though i am not a smoker i simply cannot resist its call when a single drop of alcohol hits my taste buds, catch us out behind the venue making eyes at each other and sharing a cigarette :3
omg also!! i love when weddings have coffee or a coffee bar!! such a great idea and a nice way to mix up the drinks a little~!
cheeky little drabble under the cut!!
"Rin c'mere," you say, just loud enough to be heard over the music.
He gestures towards you, effectively leaving the conversation he'd been on the outskirts of, beer still in his hand. When he gets close enough you press his free palm to your own, purse slung over your shoulder, and head towards the nearest door. It opens into a little terrace, lit by softly twinkling lights but surprisingly free of any other guests. The door swings closed behind you, dampening the sound of the party still in full swing inside.
It's easy to drag your boyfriend a little further, stopping once you're more obscured by trailing plants from anyone coming out onto the terrace behind you.
You dig around in your purse while he quietly looks down at you, appreciating the way your hair has settled around your face and how your cheeks have just a bit of shimmer on them.
"Aha!" you suddenly exclaim before holding your hand up in front of him, a neatly rolled cigarette pinched between your fingers.
"And for the lady, perhaps a little drunk ciggy?" you can't help the giggles that slip out between your words.
"You're not even drunk," he tries to argue, only to be interrupted as you fish your lighter out of the tin.
"Ah ah," you chide, "I may not be drunk, but you, my friend are very much on your way there."
He's smart enough not to argue, the flush settled on his cheeks and the way his vision hazes when he turns his head too fast are evidence enough.
"Kay baby," his voice has that syrupy sweetness to it that you only get to hear when he's like this, "light me up."
Your fingers brush his lips as you settle the cigarette between them, smiling wide when they find his chin to tilt his head down a bit. Cupping your hand to fend off the light breeze, you flick the lighter until the paper burns cherry red, settling the two of you into something soft and familiar.
He takes a breath, and then he's kissing you, lazy trails of smoke slipping from between the press of your lips.
Marsh raises an eyebrow as Teya grabs his glass and raises it to her lips for what must be the fifth time. “You do realize that’s bourbon, right?”
“Yeah,” Teya says innocently, setting the glass back down in front of him, a perfect lipstick mark left on the rim.
“I thought you got that thing – “ Marsh gestures towards her cherry cocktail. “ – because you don’t like the taste of alcohol.”
“In small doses, it’s fine,” Teya says, knocking her knee against Marsh’s under the table. “Plus, this has pecan syrup in it! That tastes good.”
“Get one of your own, then,” Marsh says, leaning in a bit, enjoying the way Teya’s eyes glow as she grins at him.
“Nah,” she says easily, resting her chin on her fist, putting them that much closer. She bumps their knees together again. “Tastes better when it’s yours.”
“Is that so,” Marsh says, his voice dry yet undeniably fond. He can’t quite argue with her logic – as he takes a sip himself, his lips cover the same spot Teya’s just were, and he’d swear the drink tastes just a little sweeter than before.
"Would you still love me if I didn't win the Series?"
"I thought we weren't asking questions that were stupid?"
"You asking if I'd love you if you were a worm is stupid."
"Just as stupid as you thinking that the Raccoons going another year without a Series would make me not love you."
the baseball au has been brought to life by zer0queen on vgen and I couldn't be happier. I've been very obsessed with this since it came to mind and I have been obsessed with this art since it was completed! please do not save.
This wonderful art was made by @orichalkstudio based on the day 18 drabble I wrote for Zandicktober!
Note: Although this drabble didn't win a poll on which ones should be written into full fics, my lovely Singed anon provided further brainrot. This one is for you.
Tags: Zandik x reader, nsft, use of alternative fleshlights, no intercourse, reader torments the poor man, coercion, no sexual gratification for reader
Minors DNI
There were numerous opinions on the nature and effect of boredom, ranging from 'Only boring people get bored to some professors proclaiming it one of the grandest tools for making advancements. But whatever philosophical angle Zandik approached the day with, it changed nothing about the objective truth.
He was bored.
How long had it been?
A thin layer of dust lined the top of his backpack. The tightly packed leather bag having been pushed into a corner of the room. It only got in the way when where he'd originally left it waiting for days, right beside the door.
By this point, he'd just about made peace with the thought of their expedition being dropped entirely. Two weeks of unsafe weather conditions as sandstorms ravaged just outside Caravan Ribat.
A small scoff left his lips at the sheer cowardice of the Herbad. They could, at the very least, have made the trip from Sumeru City to the edge of the desert and waited it out. Then they'd be ready the moment conditions improved.
But no. A groan left him as his head collided with the wooden desk. His disinterest in the bolts and scraps of plate he'd swiped from the last expedition spoke volumes of how low he'd sunk.
There'd be growing moss on his equipment before a reason to don it would present itself. He had half a mind to leave immediately, have someone relay to the rest of the team that he'd gone ahead for… for what? Reconnaissance?
His fingers had already located a pen before he remembered the warnings; one act of insubordination and he'd be replaced. It clattered uselessly against first the wall and next the floor after tossed it. It wasn't worth it.
The stars seemed further away than ever as he discarded his robes, stealing glances out the window and considering if this was the 'quiet moment' he'd been waiting for to delve into some of the Rtawahist compendiums. His bed creaked in protest when he flopped down, not even the allure of soft bedding dulling the ache to investigate, observe, pry apart, catalogue-
He really needed a distraction.
Fortunately, it didn't take more than a single walk the following morning before something caught his ear. The Akademiya was, after all, constantly abuzz with ideas, theories, and gossip. Whether that was a result of great minds or caffeine-induced madness among the students was a separate mystery to solve.
Zandik was aware that this particular experiment would yield no immediate practical use, at least not for him. Keeping an open mind is essential to progress, and what could it hurt to investigate such a widespread rumor? He cleared his throat, fighting back the rapid increase in heart rate as his eyes took in the 'tools' laid out before him. Stalling would do no good, the young men he'd overheard were quite clearly in agreement that the window of opportunity was quite narrow. At least to obtain the optimal effect.
Cucumber and zaytun peaches had been easy to procure but the lavender melon near impossible. Through entirely legal routes at least. Hollowed out after measure, heated briefly over a flame to emulate a body temperature, wrapped in cloth for better grip.
A small frown tugged at the corners of his lips, he didn't have any reserves and reuse was… Well, apart from the thought being somewhat vile, the produce would most likely be destroyed during the first round.
They appeared unassuming as they lay lined up on his desk. Two fingers tentatively prodded inside the melon in a preliminary trial and Zandik had to suppress a shiver. It felt absolutely disgusting.
His other hand was wrapped firmly around his dick, taking his time to move along the shaft in time with his breath. A clear mind was needed for objective observation, at least as clear as it could get while also keeping his corpus luteum engaged.
But he should follow through, pants already unbuttoned-
Images of engraved metal washed over him as he closed his eyes, thumb swiping along his slit and spreading the tiny bead of pre. He took a shaky breath, biting down on his bottom lip as more scenes came to mind. A golden sun encased in a bronze star. His dick twitched in his hand, the Dahri machines' beauty encouraging his hips to give a tentative thrust.
"That looks like quite the experiment, Zandik."
The shrill scream that left his lips was downright disgraceful, not that he currently had the clarity of mind to properly process it as he whirled around to snatch the nearest piece of fabric and conceal the… specimens?
How your expression changed from curious to shocked to… whatever the hell was going on with that wide grin alerted him to the second mistake.
He nearly tripped in desperation, the heavy chair screeching against the floor, pants and underwear pooling around his ankles while he clutched for anything that could cover his horribly erect appendage. The heat from the pyro slime he'd used for sample preparation had clearly gotten to him, cheeks burning while you leisurely closed the door.
"What? Weren't you about to," you paused briefly to gesture in Zandik's direction, "do something with that."
"Don't say 'that' about my-"
He sputtered as you cut him off, "the fruit, Zandik. And don't tell me you just like to eat naked."
"Get out," it would have been easier to sound firm had he not been about to drop the book that barely kept his by now aching member hidden and pressed against his abdomen, "and learn to knock while you're at it."
Utterly unbothered by the continuous shooing motion aimed in your direction you stalked closer, the sly grin made the entire thing less menacing and more a ridiculous mockery of a predator. Still, Zandik hissed softly at the feeling of wood digging into the back of his thighs, unable to retreat any further without giving you a clear view of- oh that thought should not make it strain against the leatherbound book.
"I did knock. For ten minutes actually," it had to be the lukewarm peach behind him, there was not a chance your scent was this sweet. It was cloying. If he didn't get a breath of fresh air he'd either pass out or something equally regrettable. "If your neighbors don't already hate you, then they definitely do now."
Holding his breath, Zandik tilted his head away as you looked over his shoulder, doing everything within his power to resist the warmth of your body that seemed to pull on every nerve he had. "So you let yourself in. An open door isn't an invitation."
Not above taking pleasure in your misfortune, he couldn't help but smile at the sound of you gagging. "Ugh slimy and warm, gross."
"Body temperature, to be exact. At least it would have been if you hadn't delayed my-" in his haste to snap and regain some dignity, Zandik had allowed his head to turn towards you again, lips barely an inch apart. He disguised the slight rut of his hips as merely adjusting his weight. What was he supposed to call it? "My research."
Your touch seared his exposed chest, every muscle going taut beneath your fingertips. "Mhm?" The teasing tone wasn't lost on his ears, "and you're an Amurta student all of a sudden? Did you take the delayed expedition so badly that you changed Darshan?"
"This is for," he took a sharp breath, fingers tightening around the book protecting his private parts from view lest you succeeded in pushing it away, "personal use."
It was a wonder his legs didn't give out when the oppressive feel of your body against his eased with your withdrawal. Hopefully, it wouldn't be necessary to reheat the fruit, a few degrees off wouldn't matter when the endpoint wasn't a published article.
"I'll help."
Zandik froze, looking up to find that you had only taken a few steps back, not left entirely. "Absolutely not."
"You won't have enough hands."
He was not having this conversation with you.
Despite his better judgement, Zandik hissed out an answer. "One for writing and one for uh- the procedure."
"Do you have the necessary coordination for that?" Already impatient, embarrassed, and with a wavering resolve, Zandik swallowed the desire to snap at you. Truthfully, you had a point. And if he waited any longer he likely would just abandon the experiment. Both materials and the humiliation he'd suffered would be for nothing, no answers, no satisfied curiosity, no relief for the throbbing between his legs.
With clenched teeth, Zandik squeezed past and sat down by the desk. "Do not mistake my acceptance for interest. This is strictly in the name of discovery"
"Come on now~" your coos sounded far too pleased, and had he not been busy flexing every muscle in his legs to control his hips, Zandik would have loved to push you away, "you can do better than that, it's barely legible!"
Wood snapped in his grasp, a choked gasp joining the cacophony of squelches as your hand sped up. It felt like you'd been at it for ages, the peach in your hand a mess of water, pulp, and whatever of his own had joined the mixture. The cucumber had been first, quickly proving itself rather useless despite the snug fit (something you had the gall to laugh about after loudly proclaiming it a narrow hole) as it had turned to mush within the first ten seconds.
"Quiet-" Zandik ground his teeth together as he felt himself throb, swearing the softness rubbing his tip had to be your fingertip, "don't interfere!"
Despite how his chest heaved, or perhaps the problem was exactly that, he felt lightheaded beyond what was reasonable. The faint light streaming through his curtains making it impossible to focus, yes that was it. The curtains were the root cause of his dwindling composure.
"Another set of eyes on data is invaluable, what if you missed something?" Why did you have to be so close, lips brushing against his ear as he wished they would wrap around something else instead. "Cucumber: heat stability insufficient, prone to falling apart unless handled gently," a soft snort left your lips, only making Zandik's stomach churn in anticipation. "You don't think I'm being gentle enough?"
Nothing could be done as a sob wrenched itself from Zandik's lips, vision going white as you gripped him tightly enough that it felt like a miracle that he was still intact.
"Test ended prematurely," you continued to read over his shoulder, giving another harsh squeeze that had his head falling back, "looks like you're about to end this one prematurely as well. What about describing how it feels? Is it tender, moist, inviting? How does it feel to be absolutely soaked down there?"
Zandik whimpered as he felt juices slosh down his thighs. The broken pen clattered along the desk as his hand shot down to tightly grasp your wrist, uncaring (or perhaps excited) that it would leave red crescents in your skin, "s-stop-" his head was spinning, blots of ink staining his vision, "just.. just a moment.."
Of course, he thought, when had you ever listened? Instead, his eyes rolled back with the tight squeeze of your hand, nails digging through the tender fruit to scratch at his skin.
"Should the subject be allowed to call off an experiment?" Zandik felt drool slowly trail down his chin, swallowing at the subtle threat in your tone.
Still, through the haze of blinding pleasure - the stringy flesh clinging deliciously to his slit - he managed to nod. He was in control of this. The wooden chair protested at the force of his hips bucking wildly into your inviting fist, the heat of your breath against his neck doing nothing but egg him on.
Ah, was this what they all talked about? The warmth, texture, wetness? Letting go and imagining your tight heat instead would be so easy, would you be like-
He swore you were panting in his ear. "No," your words were punctuated by a sharp twist of your hand, Zandik's urge to scream crashing against his ribs as he fought it down, "guidelines state that the subject can be subjected to a level of distress should the benefit of the discovery outweigh the suffering."
"Those are the," he swallowed hard, "rules for animals.."
A new pen was pushed into his twitching hand in what had to be some form of cruel mockery. His pulse thundered in his ears, making it impossible to listen to whatever words he felt dance along his cheek.
"With how you're behaving, I see no difference. Tell me what you're writing."
"T-tissue integrity, acceptable," Zandik took a deep breath, trying to temper the desire to abandon reason (and dignity) and chase his relief. The scrawls that made it onto paper would be useless, yet he refused to admit defeat, "it's warm.. not- not body temperature," he trailed off into a small groan, "but close enough, somewhat uneven. Sticky, the sugar…"
Every little shift of the tender peach made him jolt and further smudge the notes. His hand still moved against the paper - against something at least - but there was no hope of keeping his eyes open. Not with your arms wrapping around his waist to gently cup his sack, eliciting an involuntary shudder.
Was this what it would be like to have intercourse with another? Dubious. It had to be far more pleasant, even your hand making for a substitute preferable to the fruit. Whoever had invented and spread this 'trick' had to be out of their mind.
The room spun as Zandik bucked into the tight, wet heat in your palm. Would it be academic misconduct if he called off the experiment and made a conclusion before trying all three? With a shake of his head, the considerations cleared as easily as mist for the sun while Zandik focused on the image of your hand around him rather than the sloppy feeling of peach, desperately hurtling himself towards release.
The pitiful whine did not belong to Zandik. And he certainly didn't feel it move through his body when sweet relief was abruptly stolen by your retreating hands. Paper crumpled beneath his grasp, knuckles turning white from the intensity with which he clutched the desk.
Coughs and gags mingled with your laughter as Zandik fought back the urge to scream, hips bucking helplessly into the air as he came. His lap was a mess of juices of mixed origin, white trails reaching well past his abdomen. Patches of fuzzy peach skin littered his groin and clung to his sensitive member, still leaking the remains of his orgasm.
It looked absolutely foul. Without your hand to conceal the mess, all appeal had vanished, leaving only an irrational fear that the sickly sweet scent would forever cling to his genitals.
Irrational, but present nonetheless.
The gentle pats on his back felt like nothing but mockery. "Deep breaths," you almost sounded like you cared, though the way you slowly slid the lavender melon into view, "we still have one more left to go."
It still doesn’t quite feel like spring here yet so I wanted to get a comm to get me into the spring spirit!!! Thank you so much to gusaniiitoo on X for this beautiful piece!!!!!! I’m so so in love with it!!!!!!!! 💞🌸
The captain’s office door loomed into sight along the shadow-laden corridor, most of the lamps having been extinguished or turned low given the lateness of the hour, but not his. Warm amber framed the door, the candles from inside illuminated through the cracks of the frame, a beacon drawing you closer.
Levi was still awake and by the walls you were glad of his habit to burn the midnight oil, especially tonight.
Sleep had alluded you. Instead, you replayed every little interaction from the day, stewing on them until they were twisted into much larger mountains than what they started from. Then memories of other failures crept in too, adding to your mental torture. It was safe to say that today had been a hellish day, and honestly, you couldn’t point to any one thing to explain why. It was just one of those days where nothing went according to plan.
Dressed only in a nightgown and wrapped in a crocheted shawl gifted to you on your last birthday, you tiptoed gingerly along the hall, picking your way carefully so as to avoid the places where splinters might spear an unsuspecting victim. You raised a fist to gently knock only to pause, your lip caught between the edge of your teeth.
What if he turned you away? Told you to go back to bed. What if he wasn’t alone?
As if he sensed your inner doubtful monologue, a voice called out—unwavering and full of authority.
“Enter.”
Given that you were not in the habit of disobeying orders, you grasped the highly polished brass handle and the snick of the door catching loosened the contents of your stomach into a swirling maelstrom.
It was warm inside, inviting even, the smell of camomile tea mingled with the open ink pot and the dying embers in the fireplace hissed softly as the coals lost the remnants of their energy. Despite the ambient heat, you pulled the shawl closer around your shoulders and ducked your head to the man sat behind the desk.
Levi glanced up and his grey eyes warmed, faint lines crinkling in the corners even if he didn’t look to be smiling. This was not uncommon, and long had you mastered the ability to read his every tiny micro expression with reasonable accuracy. He let his pen drop to the crease of his open journal and canted his head ever so slightly.
“Good evening, love. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” he asked evenly, the earlier authority of his voice mellowed into mere intrigue.
“I should ask you the same thing, Captain, and how did you know I was outside?”
He hummed, the shadow of a smile gracing his face and only serving to make him look all the more handsome, not that he needed the help. Instead of answering, he lifted a hand and flicked his wrist in your direction, beckoning you close.
Another order you were not going to disobey.
Your fingers traced the bevelled edge of his pristine desk, his eyes following your every move, assessing silently. Levi pushed his chair back, reclining to afford you the room to climb onto his awaiting lap.
Instantly, you felt better, soothed by his presence. The shadows encroaching on your mind receded in the wake of his inner light and strength.
He pressed his lips to the crown of your head, nose burrowing into your hair just as his hand secured at your waist. The scent of his soap invaded your nose, the ascot at his throat tickling your cheek and for the first time that day you felt the tension melt out of your shoulders. He was your haven.
“Your feet,” he said, drawing a frown to your face.
“What about them?”
“You asked how I knew you were outside. I could see the shadow of feet beneath the door, and only you or Erwin ever visit this late. The Commander would not have hesitated, so I knew it was you.”
“Oh.”
For a long moment, you basked in the silence.
The negative thoughts of earlier dissipating with the stroke of his elegant fingers down each notch of your spine. He asked for nothing and took so little. Whether he knew it or not, Levi had come to be a beacon for you. The person you sought out when times were hard, and who you looked to when you are uncertain.
Whilst your relationship with the captain was far from common knowledge, it was not a secret either. In truth, the definition of what the two of you were had never been formally discussed and you didn’t feel like it was needed, not yet, not when things were still so turbulent. There were far more important things to deal with and honestly, that was okay. Moments like these made up for the unknowable future.
“Something bothers you,” he stated, not needing it to be a question when he could read you like an open book.
The tightness of your shoulders and the weariness around your eyes when you first entered his office were more than enough evidence to your current state. Levi was not the most subtle of men when it came to speaking, but you liked his directness, it was a balm when the potential for misunderstanding lurked between every word—spoken or not.
He wasn’t demanding an explanation, only stating a fact. Since you weren’t sure you could verbalise the jumble of thoughts dragging your mood down, all you did was nod in agreement, snuggling deeper into his chest. Your palm smoothed over his stiff shirt, the collar starched and the creases ironed with meticulous attention. The gentle thump of his heart thrummed against your fingertips, steady and even, calming.
No wonder so many looked up to him, even if he regularly terrified the newer recruits. He never wavered in his dedication to his beliefs, and the conviction he used to bolster his… less than savoury words were from the heart. He may not give the kind of awe-inspiring speeches such as those of Commander Smith, but when you asked Levi a question, you would always receive an honest answer, whether you liked it or not.
“I’m pleased you came to me, my love… it means a lot that you trust me when you’re vulnerable. I’m not going to ask you what is wrong, although you’re free to explain if you want, but I am going to ask if you need me to kick anyone’s ass.”
You chuckled at the thought, the molten steel lacing those final words more than enough to remind you that Levi Ackerman was not to be trifled with. His fingers stilled, pressing deeper into your side and the curve of your shoulder like you might slip right through his fingers if he didn’t hold onto you tightly. It was far from uncomfortable; it was exactly what you needed.
“No ass kickings necessary, promise. My head just feels a little messy is all… I couldn’t empty it enough to sleep and the longer I stared at the ceiling, the more annoyed I got. Then I was thinking about when I nearly smacked into the side of the storeroom during ODM training last week and…” you paused to take a breath, blowing it out slowly through your nose. “I think you get the gist.”
“Tch… that accident was because you weren’t focused on where you wanted to go. I was watching you and your eyes kept finding me even though you knew you should be trying to improve your forward momentum by using your bodyweight as well as the gear,” he said matter-of-factly, following up his gentle reprimand with a flick aimed between your eyebrows.
“Can you blame me? You look good in your training gear, and I was reminiscing about the morning where we—”
Levi hushed you, bouncing one leg until you were giggling once more and clutching at his shoulders for stability. “You’ll end that sentence right there. Now is not the time for those kinds of thoughts. Walls have ears, remember.”
You peered up at him from beneath your lashes, internally cheering when the colour of his cheeks took on the faintest pink hue. The corners of his lips twitched, and you couldn’t believe how much your mood had lifted in only a few moments in his presence. The temptation of sleep, which had hiding from you, edged closer and you could feel the weight of it pressing upon your eyelids.
“Let me finish this last entry and I will take us both to bed, okay?”
It took all your remaining energy to simply nod; fingers twisted into the front of his shirt whilst the steady rhythm of his breathing and heartbeat lulled you to sleep. Levi picked up his pen, dipped it into the ink and resumed his writing. The faint scratching of the nib against the thick paper was a pleasant tickle to your ears and soon enough, you were fast asleep.
Levi tried his best to focus on what he was recording, but it was desperately difficult. The allure of your soft body curled into his drove him entirely to distraction. At last, the final sentence was inked into the page, and he was able to eat his fill of you.
The dying candlelight flickered across your skin in a mysterious dance, highlighting your cheekbones and nose, the perfect curve of your mouth. Oh, how he wanted to kiss that sweet mouth and expel any lingering doubts in your brain, leaving you empty headed and blissed out… but there would be times for that later.
He wasn’t exaggerating when he said he was pleased you came to him; pride puffed his chest outward that you had grown to trust him this much and whilst he wished he could rid you of any and all negative thoughts, that wasn’t reasonable. All he asked was that you were honest with yourself and him about how you felt. Nothing good ever came from bottling up emotions. Advice that he himself needed to take.
As he stood slowly, arms cradled behind your back and under your thighs, he vowed to do better. Levi let a smile slip onto his lips when you mumbled his name in your sleep and pressed your nose deeper into the ascot at his throat. He wouldn’t wash this one for a while, wanting to keep your intoxicating scent imprinted on the fabric for as long as he dared.
“Sleep, sweetheart. For tomorrow is a new day and the sun will rise just as we will continue to push forward. I’ll make this a better world… for you.”
hi hello if you made it this far! This is a repost from my old blog which I wanted to bring over here as I don't often get the chance to write about canon levi. I hope you enjoyed it!
Sorry, but if you really want to understand a topic or truly re-educate yourself, you really do have to get into longform content one way or another. There's no way around it. The stuff you need can't be summed up in a snappy 250 word answer.
u can have a feeling and not act on it. howEVER, and this is the fucked up part, u do have to still feel it. like there's things you can do to help urself stay stable while feeling it but it's gotta go through you somehow. it's messed up I know
