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#was always gonna buy a new one soon anyway but i wanted to save up just a liiiiiil more
sorensolsikke · 1 month
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here's some punk diy tips and ideas
[other than crusty pants and battle jacket, although we still love those greatly.]
why should you diy, when you can just find decorated items everywhere, you can ask. what if you are clumsy at painting or anything?
firstly, good questions. we diy so we don't give credit to the big companies who rule the world. we diy to get more independent from the system we dislike. we diy so to save money. to express uniqueness, recognize eachother and be recognized. and especially to have fun and feel cool. diy is not only about clothing, but anything you can set your mind on. of course, one cannot make EVERYTHING for themselves, there isn't enough time and energy. but making at least small steps are already a statement and more than nothing. also, helping small artists by buying their products is also pretty punk.
that being said, i provide you with some tips of mine, all gained from experience:
anything you drew/painted on, you will WANT TO protect. acrylic paint/markers + acrylic paint varnish/transparent nail polish/textile medium are your best friends. read after anything that's new to you.
i highly recommend working with old clothing or thrift shop finds when it comes to textiles, as it is environmentally friendly and you will stay in budget. Anyways, always make sure that the material you use isn't gonna be problematic. for example, if you want to do some patchwork, the material shouldn't decay easily (if it does, it will come off so quickly.). if you want to paint on it, it shouldn't be rugged.
you can not only draw/paint on your canvas shoes, but can also sew, embroidery (just make sure to use a thimble, plus floss instead of thread could make your work more durable), and add beads and trinkets to your shoelaces. in the case of shoes, never use glue (neither hot nor instant glue) – it will come off quickly. for some inspiration, i'll show you my shoes!
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(the fake moss is literally unstoppable from falling off or getting dirty. risky idea.)
it's good to carry around water and food!! you don't even have to pay for decorative water bottles and food boxes, as you can draw on glass and plastic just fine with acrylic markers. just don't forget to paint transparent nail polish all over your drawing. in at least two layers. don't be lazy or laid-back. even posca comes off while washing the dishes. and you WANT TO save your reference pictures/final designs, as the case of emergency is likely. but after all, my water bottle is exactly fine after six months, with no accuring problem.
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if your current best option to get stickers from is aliexpress or overpriced decor stores, search for local artists and shops on instagram and tiktok, as it may be their most efficent way of getting you to know them. if it seems like you have no chance, you may can still find a print shop with the option of printing on self-adhesive sheets (at least in hungary, those are pretty cheap). and if you want drawings to print out as stickers, you may use your own or –ONLY IF YOU GET PERMISSION– other artist's work. not only good for decorations for like, headphones, but for vandalism too. WAIT WAIT who said that. who said it. not me. no never
(in case that's also impossible, you can create stickers by printing out/drawing a picture, cover it up in transparent adhesive tape, and then put some two-sided adhesive tape on the white side of the pic. it won't be that durable, but it functions.)
if you want to bleach-paint clothing, get some plastic brushes!! any other brush dissolves. draw your design first with chalk!! never forget to put cardboard inside the clothing, and to wash the finished work in a washing machine before you'd put it on. prepare to be patient with the process. and it's not dangerous to touch 5%-9% household bleach, just wash your hands soon after.
if you want your crusty pants to last veryyy long, wax them. look up on youtube jeans waxing.
some more things i made for myself so to give you some inspiration: totebag with pockets, a small crystal holder cabinet, badges, and i decorated some t-shirts, button-ups, an id card case, phonecase, laptop.
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theoretically speaking, there is nothing that an individual would be unable to learn how to make, when it comes to diy. you can't imagine how easy it is to bake bread at home. consuming-focused media makes people believe that it's hard to make anything. of course, everyone has to decide about their own priorities, i don't want to convince or change anyone in here. and if you have any questions, send an ask!! i hope i had been helpful.
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cranberrv · 11 months
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⪩⪨ dating johnny cade headcanons
a/n : i hate this, i’m so sorry this took me all of 15 minutes but i needed to post something !!!!! maybe ill make a better version sometime, stay tuned <3 requests open btw (not proofread not proofread ignore any mistakes lovely)
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- you’re his saviour
- you know the saying, ‘when you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light?’
- you’re his light
- if he’s having a bad day or his parents have kicked him out again, guess who he’s going to?
- not even to talk about it, just to be surrounded by this warmth that makes him forget about all his problems
- unlike dallas, he loves hugs and cuddling all. the. time.
- well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. he hates cuddling in front of the gang. the gang will just tease him but his relationship with you is something he doesn’t wanna be teased about
- he doesn’t like big gestures
- he’s not the type to write you a poem (ponyboy cough cough) and he’s not the type to buy you cliche gifts like chocolate and flowers
- he does things that mean something, like a necklace with your favourite flower on it, a shirt of a band you two like listening to together
- one of his favourite pastimes is listening to music w you actually!
- i like to think johnny really likes music, like elvis and van morrison
- he’ll always buy new cassettes to listen to with you
- he wishes he could take you to concerts, but he’s too broke for that :(
- ugh i should probably move on but imagine spooning with johnny on your bed listening to music that’s adorable
- if he sees you laughing with a guy he doesn’t know or trust, he’ll feel a mix of jealous and insecure
- he doesn’t act on his jealousy, he just patiently waits until it’s his turn to talk to you
- if you bring up that he’s acting up, he’s not gonna talk about it, denying it
- “nah man idk what you mean, im fine”
- you guys argue occasionally, but only about things that really matter
- he doesn’t want you talking to socs, or you don’t want him to live with his parents anymore
- it’s a reasonable and patient conversation over an argument in his mind
- he has never made you cry and never will, or else he’ll cry
- sitting in the lot gazing up at the stars is his idea of a date. pointing out the moon and making a wish on the first star. smoking cigarettes and sitting back on the cheap fabric of some old thrown-out furniture
- him wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him, the two of you falling asleep under the stars
- sometimes you’ll catch him just staring at you. not in a creepy or weird way, just admiring.
- noticing his shoulders relax when he’s in a poor mood but then suddenly you come around is your favourite feeling
- he makes you feel so special, like you’re worth a million bucks
- he practically worships the ground you walk on (and vice versa!)
- puppy love
- you two like each other soooo much and it’s so obvious
- sometimes he gets a little insecure around the gang or socs, not being all mushy (not like he usually is anyway)
- he’s usually more reserved, saving the cuddling and gifts for alone time
- anyway you two are in love probably and it’s really cute
- sorry lovely this was rly rushed :( ill post a better version soon 💋
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magisland · 1 year
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PAY ME A COFFEE
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author’s note: i really liked to write it thinking that this happens in the same universe as joshua’s one and even thought about turning it to a smau or something like that, but i think it’s better not, right? don’t know if it would come out nicely.. anyways, enjoy it!!
“eyyy, i’ve already told you it’s not like that. i only find them attractive, that’s all! i don’t even know their name, i only see them going to work because we take the same bus.”, jeonghan says to the phone while walking with airpods and a coffee on his left hand.
“you’re basically trying to say that you have a crush on them but you’re too afraid of talking to them so you just became their stalker.”, seungcheol says on the other side of jeonghan’s phone, “hannie, they’re not gonna talk to you, you always tell me that they’re always with their eyes on magazines or on their phone, so just make a move for god’s sake!”
“hey i’m not a stal-“ jeonghan was interrupted by someone who bumped into him, making his coffee fall out of his hands and meet the floor. “yaah! what the-”
“shit. oh my god i’m so sorry, i was a little bit distracted and i’m in a hurry, i’m really sorry!” you say picking up jeonghan’s coffee from the floor. jeonghan is just standing there, he was ready to complain with the person who bumped into him, but when he saw you he froze, he couldn’t argue with his bus crush.
“cheol, i’ll call you back later, bye.” jeonghan ends the phone call and looks at you standing up to give him what left of his coffee. “you really drink the coffee from this cafe? jesus christ, thank god i made you drop it, i just saved your life.” you say smiling and fixing your hair.
“pa-pay me a coffee.”
“what?”
“you made me drop my coffee and even complained about me buying it in this cafe, you should buy me a coffee then, a good one.”
“hey, i didn’t complain about it, just said that i made you a favor by dropping this nasty coffee but alright, how much do you need it? is ten dollars enough? i’ll give you fifteen so you can buy something more, i recommend the sector 17 cafe, i only buy my coffee there.”
“i don’t know where this cafe is. take me there.” he smiles a little bit.
“ah.. but i’m already late, can’t i just give you the money? you can find the place by searching it up or asking someone.”
“then give me your number and you can pay me a new coffee when you’re free.”
you laugh at disbelief, but you smile right after. “it’s fair, hand me your cellphone.” jeonghan hands his cellphone right away with his smile growing bigger and bigger as you type a cellphone number on his phone and give it back to him. “here, now i have to go. sorry for the coffee again!”
he watches you go away and quickly calls the number you typed. “hello?” you say and only hear a chuckle, you turn back to see the man who you bumped into just to see him smiling at you with his phone in his ear, “seriously?” you say in a serious way. “just wanted to make sure you gave me the right number, now that i know you did, i can hang up. have a nice day.”
you chuckle as soon as he hanged up and go back to going to your work, but this time you go to a different direction, leaving jeonghan who was watching you fade away with the crowd finding it stranger, but relieved that today he’s not taking the same direction and bus as you and leaving you with the thought that he’s stalking you.
“they’re really something..”
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callsignspark · 1 year
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Bradley and Mary
straddling your partner's thighs
look at what you've done, anon. I've gone and written something ridiculously long.
send me a physical intimacy prompt for any of my Dagger, Sword & Shield couples!
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your lap is my safe place - part i
pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)
warnings: 18+ minors DNI, uterine cancer (discussions of a terminal illness and treatment), death due to cancer (established universe death), grief over losing a parent, funerals, panic attacks, vomiting, you don’t need to read Mar[r]y Me to read and understand this but you should anyway
word count: 7.1k
part ii - coming soon
note: originally, this was supposed to be a short, simple prompt answer - one part sad and one part smutty - but it's gotten extremely out of hand due to my inability to be brief. so this is part one (the sad part), and the smutty sequel will be coming (ha) sometime early next week. and when I say this part is sad, I mean sad. some of this is very much based on my experience with loved ones who have had cancer and/or were terminally ill. it was very therapeutic to write, even if I did cry a whole lot.
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Tuesday, September 3, 2002 | 06:35 A.M.
Bradley wakes up to his alarm clock blaring in his ear, feeling like he’s going to throw up, which is weird for him. Mav says that he’s never met anyone with a stronger stomach. Eighteen-year-olds have stomachs of steel, his mom jokes when she’s having a good day.
He stumbles down the hall and hangs his head over the toilet. Nothing comes up. The nausea goes away in a few minutes, but his gut still feels twisted. He brushes his teeth and decides the likely culprit is the new recipe Mav attempted for dinner last night. He choked down a few bites of the horrible fish tacos before his uncle called it a failure and ordered pizza.
Back in his room, it doesn’t take him long to finish getting ready, pulling on his new first-day-of-school outfit and shaping his mustache. He doesn’t care what Slider says; it’s looking good, much thicker than when he started growing it in April.
“It’s my first day of senior year, my last first day of school. Until the academy, anyway. But with the summer training, the first day of classes probably won’t even feel like a first day.”
His father’s official Lieutenant-JG portrait stares back at him. Unanswering as he fixes his hair.
“Mom is getting worse… She’s getting weaker; I don’t think we have very long before she has to go into hospice. I really want her to get better - I wished for it - but I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
He swallows hard and fights back tears, remembering his birthday just a few months ago. Everything hadn’t seemed quite as bad then as it is now.
“I hope she can make it to Christmas. I almost have enough money saved up to buy her that pair of earrings that look like the ones Princess Diana had at her wedding. They’re not real pearls like hers, obviously, but the lady at the jewelry counter told me they’re replicas, so I think she’ll like them anyway.”
Brown eyes identical to his own stare back at him. Hints of the mischievous, prank-loving man visible in the polite smile captured. The old photo is carefully tucked into the edge of his mirror; it was his mom’s first, but she gave it to him when he was eight. She had caught him staring at it every day for a week, quietly talking to it about his day.
“Wish me luck, Goose. It’s gonna be a big year.”
Downstairs, he’s greeted with the second weird thing of the day. First, his stomach, and now his mom is flipping pancakes. She’s hardly had the strength to use the bathroom by herself in the last six months, but this morning, she’s standing at the stove, singing along to the radio, and making his favorite breakfast.
She’s always said that bad things happen in threes, but strange things happen in pairs.
He thinks she might be right, but if she feels good, he’s not complaining. She never feels good anymore.
“There he is! Oh, Mav! Look at my baby boy, all grown up and ready for his last year of high school!”
“Ma…” He groans, and without prompting, he bends down to let her kiss and pinch his cheeks like he always does.
He’s not sure how many good days she has left, so he tries his best to behave and make her life easier.
He doesn't complain when she asks him to take the garbage out after he already did; her memory hasn’t been as good since she got sick. He keeps the anger inside when everyone forgets his baseball games because she had chemo; it’s more important for Mav and Ice to take care of her than to watch him throw a ball around. He even offered up his college fund to help pay for another round of treatment. He was denied before he could even finish the suggestion, but he just wants her to get better more than anything in the world.
Needs her to get better.
She sets a stack of pancakes in front of him, and again, he has the urge to cry when she kisses the top of his head. Her perfume takes over his senses, and if he closes his eyes, it’s almost like he’s little again.
A massive stack of fluffy, perfectly round pancakes, slathered in butter and syrup, filled with his mom’s love.
Mav sitting across the table from him, drinking the worst black coffee to exist on the planet.
His mom humming off-key at the stove, her beautiful, golden hair swishing as she gets into a song.
But then he opens his eyes, and he’s not little anymore.
The pancakes are still covered with butter and enough syrup to give him a cavity, but they’re not the same. They’re flat and mishappen; her arms aren’t very strong anymore, so Mav must’ve had to help her.
Mav still sits across from him, terrible black coffee in his mug, but now he looks old. Too old for someone in his thirties. They’ve been lucky he’s been able to be here this past year. After Mom got sick, Ice and Viper pulled some strings to get him assigned to a shore-duty desk job. Bradley knows he hates it. Can see it in the way he watches every plane that passes overhead - civilian, military, it doesn’t matter - his fingers twitching to be the one controlling the powerful engines. But he never complains, is steady and strong, taking Mom to appointments and Bradley to school.
His mom is humming at the stove for the first time in a long time, somehow more in tune than she’s ever been. He wants to make a joke about how the treatments must have fixed her tone-deafness, but it would just make everyone sad. A reminder that it’s the only thing her treatment has fixed.
It’s taken everything else away.
Her skin, once bright and youthful, is now dull and gray-toned. Her energy has been zapped; she doesn’t even have it in her to make it through their Sunday movie nights. Her body is frail. She was always slim, but now she borders on gaunt, her appetite nonexistent most of the time. Her hair was the first thing to go, a rotation of brightly colored scarfs and hats replacing the blonde strands that used to reach her shoulders. He looks at today’s choice. A bright red scarf that matches the white sundress and red cardigan she’s pulled on.
She looks pretty.
“You look pretty, mom.”
It grabs the attention of both adults, the two of them staring long enough that he squirms in his chair.
“Thank you, baby.” Her pleased smile tells him it was the right thing to say. “You don’t want your pancakes?”
“I do. They look great, but my stomach kinda hurt when I got up, so I don’t want to eat right now. I’m sorry. If you put them in the fridge, I can eat them for dinner.”
“Oh, don’t be silly! It’s a special day; we’re going to have something special for dinner! Something that Mav won’t be making.” The teasing smile she sends to the table makes the knot in his stomach unwind some. It makes him feel good enough to take a small bite.
The shape is wrong, and they’re not fluffy enough, but the taste is the same. The flavor melts over his tongue. The pressure in his chest, the one that showed up around the same time as his mom’s cancer diagnosis, lightens a little bit.
I should fake sick and stay home.
The thought comes out of left field, but he’s immediately on board. She hasn’t had a good day in forever, and he doesn’t want to miss it. Who knows when the next one will come. If there will even be another good day. He wants to spend time with his mom while she knows what’s happening.
“My stomach hurts; I don’t think I can go to school.” He groans and grabs his stomach, trying to look as pathetic as possible to sell his story.
He’s forgotten how sharp his mom is, how well she knows him. “Nice try, honey. You were fine two seconds ago, and you’re not missing your first day of senior year. Now, c’mon! It’s photo time!”
Carole is marching towards the front door before he can argue, so he tries to sway Mav in his favor. But the dark-haired man just shakes his head and avoids eye contact, grabbing the camera off the counter. Bradley stands in the middle of the kitchen, the knot retwisting itself.
He suddenly realizes that his upset stomach has nothing to do with yesterday’s tilapia trying to get its revenge and everything to do with what he overheard in the waiting room during his mom’s last checkup.
“I know, I heard. Isn’t it terrible? He'd been sick for a while, but it seemed like he was getting better. He even took his kids on a bike ride, and then - BAM! - he was gone the next day!”
“Oh, that happens a lot with people who are sick for a long time. Toward the end, they get this sudden burst of energy. It’s like God’s way of giving a happy memory to them and their loved ones. Letting them have one last good day before they go.”
He’s actually going to throw up this time.
Bradley drags his feet all the way to the front door, delaying his departure as much as possible. He doesn’t want to leave, but he knows he’s not going to win any fight against her right now - he’s going to school, come hell or high water. And he doesn’t want to fight with his mom; instead, he chooses to commit the moment to memory.
The gentle touch of her hands as she fusses with his hair, making sure it’s just right before any photos.
The brightness of her smile, how it’s the one thing that’s never dimmed despite everything she’s gone through.
The teasing barbs she exchanges with Mav, the man who has been family to her for longer than Bradley has been alive.
He looks at Mav, the man who has done his best to help raise him. Tried so hard to be a fatherly figure in place of the man who was lost too soon. Mav looks tired, Bradley wonders if he’s thinking the same thing as him.
She’s going. She’s going, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
Just like every year since kindergarten, they squish together on the porch, his mom wrapping her arm around his waist. He thinks about how she used to have to squat down so their heads were together. Now, she’d have to go on her tiptoes, and he’d have to crouch down for that to happen.
He knows his smile looks fake; he has to force himself because this might be the last photo he gets with his mom, and that makes him sad beyond words. Carole quickly fixes that, tickling his side on that one spot that always gets him. He giggles and tries to squirm away, his smile turning happy and real as she laughs at him.
“You’re just like your father; he was ticklish in the exact same spot.”
Even the talk of Goose doesn’t bring them down like it usually does. Today, it lifts everyone’s spirit to realize how much he’s like the father he didn’t get to know.
After Mav has taken an ungodly number of photos, Bradley asks for the camera and stands next to his uncle. He snaps photo after photo of his mom, hoping that if he takes enough, he won’t ever be able to forget this moment. Then he shuffles Mav on the porch and takes photos of the pseudo-siblings. He rearranges them one last time, setting the camera on the porch railing and hitting the timer.
He doesn’t know it yet, but that photo of the three of them standing in the yard with the Bronco just visible in the background will be the last photo taken of his mother. As an adult, it will be tied for first place with five others as his favorite photo of all time.
After the last flash, Carole pulls him close. “I am so proud of you, Bradley. Your dad would be so proud of you. You’re such a good boy. I love you so much.”
He hugs her tighter than he should; he can’t help it. The little gasp she lets out at the intensity of his hug makes him feel a bit guilty, but he doesn’t stop.
He doesn’t want to let her go.
“I know, honey. I know. It’s okay.” She tries to soothe her baby, who isn’t a baby anymore. He’s a full-grown man who is so much smarter and wiser than any 18-year-old should ever be. He’s been through so much more than any kid should ever have to go through. She feels bad about how quickly he’s had to grow up. “Everything is gonna be okay.”
No, it’s not going to be okay. But he holds back his tears because he doesn’t want her to cry when she’s having a good day. He reluctantly lets go and slips on his sunglasses - aviators, just like Goose - before heading for his car, knowing that if he doesn’t go now, he’ll never be able to make himself leave.
With his stomach in even more knots than he thought possible, Bradley heads off to school, waving as he pulls out of the driveway. Trying to burn the image of his mom waving, one hand on her hip as Mav nudges her and makes her laugh.
From the moment he parks the Bronco in the seniors-only lot, the entire school day feels like torture. He can’t even enjoy the beginning of his senior year, something he had been waiting for.
Senior year means graduation. Graduation means going to college. College means packing his stuff for Annapolis. Annapolis means he can finally start working on his dream.
He’ll learn how to be an aviator while roaming the same halls as Goose while he learns the ins and outs of aeronautical engineering. He might even be lucky enough to get placed in the same dorm room. Being an aviator means he’ll be just like his father. And Mav. And Ice. And Slider. And all of his other uncles from the class of '86. But he can’t bring himself to be excited like usual.
Instead, he’s on edge the entire day. Waiting to get called to the nurse’s office. They all had agreed as a family - Bradley, Carole, Mav, and Ice - that if she passed when he was at school, they would have the front office call him down to the nurse’s office. Ice would pick him up, Mav likely busy dealing with the doctors and the funeral home and everything.
He can barely eat the lunch his mom packed. A peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich, cut into triangles like when he was little. Chips, cucumber slices, and a chocolate chip cookie round out the meal. He tosses most of the food but is careful to keep the little note she had put in the brown paper bag.
I love you, Bradley. You’re going to do great things.
He presses it between the pages of his calculus textbook before he goes to gym, making sure he doesn’t bend the pink sticky note, preserving her swirly handwriting as best he can.
Finally, the bell signaling the end of the eighth period rings. Relief washes through his body. There’s been no call from the nurse, and his school day is over. He hastily packs his bookbag and practically skips towards the parking lot, waving at some friends still in class. He’s one got free period during ninth period, and as a senior, he gets to leave early if he has no class.
He’s planning his route home - he wants to stop at the corner store to grab a treat for his mom - when he skids to a stop where the concrete sidewalk meets asphalt.
Ice is leaning against the bumper of the Bronco.
“Happy birthday, Bradley!” His mom yells before blowing a kazoo.
He couldn’t be happier. It’s his birthday, his mom is having a good day, and he just got the keys to the Bronco. It’s officially his, just like he always dreamed it would be.
“Your dad’s dream was for you two to fix it up together and give it to you on your eighteenth birthday,” Mav explained. “I know I can’t replace him, but we had a good time working on it, right?”
Bradley nods and hugs his uncle. Mav will never be his actual dad, but he’s the closest thing he has to one. He helped raise him. He had sacrificed so many weekends to spend time with him, showing him how to fix the Bronco or throw a football with a perfect spiral. He’d even taken him on motorcycle rides, but they agreed not to tell Mom about that.
“Okay, knock it off, you saps. It’s time to blow out your candles, Baby Goose!” Slider enters the dining room, looking ridiculous with a crooked party hat on his head. He’s concentrating hard to balance a cake that’s much too big for the six people in attendance at his birthday dinner.
It’s set in front of Bradley, and he laughs when he sees the cake is covered in little plane toys. It looks like a cake made for a little kid, and he loves it. Aunt Sarah lights his candles and starts singing. He sits there for 30 seconds, watching his family sing off-key and thinking about how he loves his family so much his heart hurts.
“Okay, baby! Close your eyes and make a wish!” Carole smooths a hand over his hair.
He smiles up at her. “Only if you help me, ma.”
She bends down, doing a quick countdown before they close their eyes and blow out the candles together. For the first time in years, Bradley actually makes a wish.
Please don’t let my mom die. I need her.
Ice is talking to Slider, who’s parked in his white Jeep, and even from this distance, he can tell they’ve been crying.
Slider has obviously given Ice a ride to school, and now they’re waiting for him. If Ice doesn’t have his truck, that means he’s going to be driving Bradley. And that can only mean one thing.
She’s gone. My wish didn’t come true.
His backpack hits the ground at the same time as his knees, and he throws up. It’s not a lot; he’s barely eaten today, and by the time his uncles reach him - their feet pounding on the pavement - he’s just sobbing and dry heaving into the grass.
“Breathe, Bradley. You gotta breathe, buddy.” He can’t tell which one is talking; blood is rushing in his ears, and he just keeps crying.
“Bradley.” It’s Ice, holding his face up. “Listen to me. Your mom is not dead. Do you hear me? She’s not gone. But she had to be taken to the hospital; we’re still waiting for the test results. We’re gonna go there right now, but you need to breathe first, okay? You gotta breathe.”
He does his best to stop crying and take in air. His body literally shudders on the first breath, his lungs greedily sucking in the oxygen. After a few breaths, a water bottle is shoved in front of his face. He doesn’t even know where it came from, but he drinks, his throat raw.
Slider pops a mint into his mouth before helping him stand. “It’ll help your throat and your stomach.”
He races to the car, throwing the keys to Ice, who almost drops them. Both adults speed out of the parking lot, heading directly for the hospital.
Halfway there Ice has a chilling realization. The car is silent. If he’s learned anything in the last twenty-odd years, it’s that a car ride involving a Bradshaw is never silent. There’s always talking and laughing. Usually, you can count on singing and bad seat dancing, but today, it’s silent. There’s not even the sound of crying. And when he looks over at Bradley, he’s startled to find him catatonically staring out the windshield, his face bone dry. He looks like a statue, and it freaks Ice out how quickly he’s shut down. He hasn’t attended Sunday service in a long time, doesn’t even know if he believes in a higher power, but at that moment, he sends off prayers to every deity he can name, hoping that one of them can pull off a miracle for the boy who’s already dealt with so much.
It’s even worse at the hospital, Slider nabbing the spot next to them seconds after Ice shifts into park. The three of them hurry towards the ICU, where a nurse lets them all in after she hears who they’re visiting. Technically, only Bradley and Pete meet the requirements to be allowed in, but the entire ward is aware of the situation and are prepared to let as many people visit as needed.
Bradley freezes halfway to Carole’s room, Slider almost running him over. A priest is walking out of her room. He shakes hands with Mav and somberly nods at the frozen trio when he passes.
Mav watches as his best friends gently nudge his godson forward. His heart feels like it’s splitting in two as tears start streaming down Bradley’s face. A face that looks so old and so young at the same time. Maverick feels like he’s watching his 18-year-old nephew transform into the little boy who just lost his dad. His lower lip trembles just like it used to when he would fall and scrap his knee. Except this time, there’s nothing Mav can do to make it better. There’s no antibacterial spray, no Spiderman band-aid, no over-dramatic kiss with magical healing powers. This time, there’s only a young man who’s now taller than him. He stands in the doorway with red eyes and a mustache that makes him look so much like Goose.
“What happened?” Bradley croaks, afraid to enter the room. He hates the way his mom looks when she’s hooked up to all those machines. The beeping hurts his ears. “Why was the priest in here?”
“I don’t know, kid. We were about to eat lunch, and she collapsed. The doctors don’t know either; the test results didn’t show anything that’s telling them what’s going on. Everything is just suddenly worse.” Mav gets choked up; he can hardly continue. “They uh- they said this is probably it. That we should say our goodbyes. That’s why I had the priest come in. When we talked about her final wishes a while ago, she made me promise she would get her last rites.”
Bradley tackles him in a hug before he finishes talking. They cry together, mourning the loss that hasn’t happened yet.
The four of them have been sitting in silence for hours, listening to the beep of the heart monitor, when Bradley speaks up from his post beside his mom. “What else does she want? I know she wants to be buried next to Goose, but what else? She didn’t tell me.”
“She wants yellow carnations in her arrangements. Her wedding band stays with her, just like Goose, but her engagement ring goes to you. She wants to be wearing that blue dress she wore when she first met your dad.”
“That’s it?”
“There are a few more legal things, like with the house and the cars, but that’s laid out in her will. She made me promise I’ll take care of you, which I was always going to do no matter what.”
And she made me promise I’ll never let you fly.
Mav doesn’t add that final promise to the list; it’s not the right time for that conversation. He’s not sure it’ll ever be the right time.
Carole can feel herself getting weaker, but today is a good day; she feels good. Strong.
“Peter Howard Mitchell! Listen to me, you stupid, stubborn, obnoxious jackass! We don’t have a lot of time before Bradley gets back, and we need to talk about this!”
Bradley had felt guilty about leaving to go to the movies with Tessa Richardson, but Carole had insisted - he’d had a crush on that girl for years. It was about time he had his first kiss. And she was 95% certain it was going to happen today. Her motherly instincts were tingling.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Carole! I’m sick of every conversation we have being about you dying!”
“You think I like talking about it? Knowing that I’m leaving behind my little boy?” She gets in his face, yelling with every ounce of strength she can summon. “You think I like knowing that my body is giving up? That I’m dying? I can feel it happening, Pete! I can feel myself drifting away! And nothing the doctors are doing is helping! I know that it’s scaring Bradley, scaring you, but it’s scaring me most of all!”
Maverick catches her, and they sink to the ground; she sobs in his arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry; I’m so sorry, Carole. What do you need me to do?”
“Bradley can’t fly.” She pulls back, wiping her eyes. “He can’t fly for the Navy, Pete. I know he wants to, but you can’t let him.”
“But Carole, it’s his dream to-”
“To die just like his father?” Her words shock him. “I love Nick more than anything, Pete, you know that. But do you know what I would do to have him here with us today? Do you realize I’ve lived three times as long without my husband than I did with him? It’s been fifteen years - almost sixteen. I only knew Nick for five, and we were only married for three before he was gone. I would do anything to have Bradley know his father.”
“Care…”
“You’ve been incredible, Mav. You’ve done your best to be a father to him; he loves you so much. I love you so much; you’re my best friend. But I've missed my husband every day for the last fifteen years. He was the love of my life, and I miss him so much my heart hurts. I’m not going to be here, but I can’t stand the thought of the same thing happening to Bradley. I won’t let that happen to my baby. So, you have to promise me, Pete. Promise me you won’t let him fly.”
They sit on the floor in silence, staring at each other. The internal debate roars inside Maverick, hurting his chest. He loves the Bradshaws more than anything. He would do anything for them. He still feels guilty about his best friend’s death, knows it was his fault, even if the investigation said he was innocent. The guilt of Goose being gone eats away at him, little by little each day.
Carole is right.
He can’t - he won’t - lose Bradley the same way.
“I promise I’ll do my best to keep him out of the air. But Carole, he’s almost an adult. Soon, there won’t be much I can do to control him. I can’t stop him from applying to the Academy or joining the Navy.”
“Yes, you can. Get Ice to pull some strings, indebt yourself to Viper. Do whatever you have to do. Do everything you can to protect him, Pete.” Her voice is cold and emotionless, knowing it will destroy her son, but at least he’ll be alive.
It was the one and only time they had talked about it, but every time Bradley excitedly talked about his future, Carole would look at him with this face that made Mav feel awful. It’s her request, but he was going to be the reason Bradley’s dreams were crushed.
Mav leans over in his chair, guilt and hopelessness consuming his body. The knowledge that his godson was about to be more like him in all the ways he never wanted.
Orphaned. Mother dying, with a broken heart, years after his father was killed while flying.
Denied entrance to the Naval Academy due to something beyond his control.
“She doesn’t want anything else?”
“No.”
It’s the last word spoken. A lie.
Slider and Ice spend the night just outside the door in some extra chairs an orderly had been kind enough to scrounge up. Mav shifts between standing at Carole’s side to hold her hand and sitting ramrod straight at the foot of her bed.
Bradley stays by his mom’s side the entire night, clutching her left hand. He plays with her wedding band, twisting it around her finger like he used to when he was little. He thinks about how different everything is going to be. He’s going to be alone a lot more now. He’s legally an adult, so when Mav gets deployed or transferred, there won’t be a need to scramble to make sure he’s taken care of. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do with the house or if it’s even his to worry about. Mav, Ice, and his mom had taken care of the legal stuff without him. He wonders if Slider would loan him some money so he can get those earrings. She won’t be able to appreciate them, but he still wants her to have them. It’s the last thing he’ll be able to do for her. They’ll go nice with her blue dress, he thinks. He sits there and thinks. He’s there the whole time.
He’s there, wide awake, when Carole takes her last breath at 3:14 AM on September 4th. He’s there when the doctor comes in to declare her dead; he shakes Bradley’s hand, giving him the first of the thousand condolences that will follow. He’s there when the nurse comes in to turn off the monitors and unhook the IVs; she gently asks if he wants to leave while she cleans his mom up, but he refuses. He doesn’t have a lot of time left before he’ll never see her again; he can’t waste any time. He’s there for another hour, trying to say his goodbyes through sobs. He’s there until his uncles drag him out, promising him that he’ll see her again before the funeral. He’s still there, mentally, when he goes to sleep at Uncle Tom’s house. He and Pete are sleeping over, neither of them ready to face the house.
He’s there three days later, shyly asking the funeral director if it would be too much trouble to change his mom’s earrings. When he asked Uncle Ron about the money, he put them both in the car, drove to the mall, and paid for the earrings without question. The two of them hugged for a long time before they went home. He’s there at the viewing, next to his mother’s casket for hours, numbingly accepting condolences and hugs from hundreds of people. The one bright spot is being reminded how many people loved his mom. How wonderful she was to everyone she met.
He’s there at the graveside service, the first to place a rose on the polished wood. He stays there once it ends, refusing to leave, watching as the casket is lowered and the hole is filled with dirt. He’s there to place a bouquet of yellow carnations, her favorite, on top of the fresh earth. He pats the dual gravestone, one half still blank, before he lets Mav pull him to the car. He looks back one last time, and as the sunshine dries his tears, he swears he can hear his parents' laughter in the wind.
As an adult, now with two dead parents and one estranged, he’s there every year that he’s not deployed. He clears away any weeds and leaves before placing a bouquet of yellow carnations on the gravestone that now bears two names. Sometimes, there’s a single red rose already there when he arrives. Those are the years he knows Mav beat him to saying hello. He’s there for hours at a time, sitting with his parents and eating a bag of trail mix with extra M&Ms added - Goose’s favorite.
The first year that he and Mary are together, he’s there alone. He trusts her implicitly, and she knows the whole story. He told her what happened with Mav and everything that followed; it was a conversation they had early on. But this is something too raw, too personal, to share so soon in a relationship. He’s spent so many years doing this by himself that he’s not sure how he would handle having another person with him. Even if it was someone he loves so much.
Mary understands.
“Of course, you understand, you’re perfect.”
“I’m not perfect, Bradley. I just care about your feelings.”
“You’re perfect for me.” He kisses her before she can protest. “Thank you for caring about me.”
The day of, she kisses him softly as he leaves, pushing a sandwich bag of trail mix into his hand. Her only ask is to tell her when he gets home safe if he needs space, letting him know that her house is always open if he doesn’t want to spend the night alone.
He spends that first year catching them up. Now that he’s stationed in San Diego, it’s easier to visit more often, but several things have happened since his last stop. Usually, he talks for a bit and then sits in silence, choosing to reminisce on the happy memories. This time, he spends most of the time talking. Telling his parents about Mav, the shenanigans of the Dagger Squad, about Mary. He tells them all about Mary. How much he loves her, how he hasn’t said it yet because it’s only officially been two months, how he’s pretty sure she can tell anyway. He goes on and on about her eyes, her kindness, her intelligence.
“I love her so much; I’m going to marry her.” He blurts it out, a small gasp following his declaration to the etched granite stone. It’s not the first time he’s had the thought, but it’s the first time he’s said it out loud. And now he can’t stop thinking about it.
Mary in a white dress with a veil sitting on her pretty brown hair, a gold band on her ring finger. The two of them committing themselves to each other in front of all their loved ones. Twirling her around the dance floor to their song, dipping her at the end to kiss her and make her blush. Everything that would follow. A house. A dog. A few kids. Diapers and dance recitals to gray hair and wrinkles.
“Holy shit… I’m going to marry her.” The breeze ruffles his hair, and he knows it’s his parents. “Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll make sure we’re married before I get her pregnant, unlike you two.”
He decides to stay the night at Mary’s, feeling better than he ever has on this day. He goes to find her the moment he enters the house, using the key she recently gave him. She’s on her office floor, organizing her bookshelf, when he presses himself against her, devouring her in a kiss. Bradley’s added weight throws her off balance, and the two of them topple over, sprawled in the paperbacks.
When he finally pulls back, he’s pleased to see that she’s flushed and her chest is heaving.
“I’m not complaining, but what was that?”
“I’ve never had someone to come home to after visiting them; I’ve always done it alone.” He talks into her neck, enjoying the way her fingers tighten in his hair when his lips brush her skin. “I’m just really thankful I have you.”
“Oh, Bradley…” Mary doesn’t know what to say. She loves this man so much, and she knows it’s too soon to say that, so she shows him. The night ends with a shower and papercuts in places where papercuts should never happen.
The day sneaks up on him the second year they’re together. They’ve been busy; between work, helping Jake with his surprise, and preparing to move in together, August went by in a blink. It leaves him with no time to mentally prepare.
Bradley jolts awake, sweat covering his temples and his heart thumping. It’s the worst nightmare he’s had in months. It was a twisted mess of awful moments. Some real, some imagined. Reliving his mother’s death but worse, almost dying on the uranium mission, losing Mary to cancer, same as his mom. He woke up just as a doctor was telling him she was gone and he wasn’t allowed to see her.
“No, sir, I’m sorry, but you can’t go back there. Her husband doesn’t want anyone else back there. You’ll have to wait for the funeral… if you’re even allowed in, asshole.”
He whips the covers off and trips his way to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before his dinner makes a return trip. The commotion wakes Mary, and she quickly makes her way to him, finding him laying on the floor, his shirt whipped into the tub.
His chest is so tight it hurts. He can’t believe he’s having a panic attack. He hasn’t had a full-on panic attack in years. There’s been anxiety, moments where he can’t easily catch his breath and his heart beating faster than it should, but nothing like this. He feels like he’s drenched in sweat, his heart is pounding, and he can’t breathe.
“Bradley? Look at me, sweetie.”
Mary.
“Can you look at me, Bradley?” He can hardly see through the tears. “I know it’s hard because you’re crying so hard, but look at me.”
It takes all his strength to turn his head, but he does it because he knows she’s worried.
“There you are. Okay, baby, I need you to breathe with me.”
He’s not exactly sure how she does it, but she helps him calm down. His body listens to her instructions before his brain realizes.
It takes a while, but he can breathe normally again. She helps him sit up, propping himself against the tub and letting his head fall back. He hears the sink run before there’s a soft touch on his shoulder.
“Gonna touch you, that okay?” He nods, appreciative of how considerate she is, always thinking of him.
Mary gently wipes his face, cleaning it of tears and sweat before brushing the washcloth over his arms and chest. It helps ground him, feeling more inside his body than before.
“What time is it?” Bradley rasps as she rinses the cloth.
“Late. Or early, depending on how you want to think about it.” She peeks out of the door, checking the time. Her face is somber when she comes back to him. “It’s 3:20, honey.”
“Twenty years… she’s been gone for twenty years.” He reaches for her, and she easily complies, straddling his thighs when he tugs her hand.
They sit in silence, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms.
“I had a nightmare.” He starts, answering her silent question. “It was her death and the uranium mission back-to-back, losing her and then him.”
She hums, encouraging him to continue. She doesn’t know the details of that mission - her clearance level is high but not that high - but she knows that he and Mav barely made it back. Both of them brushing hands with death multiple times.
They have nightmares. Less frequently now that they’re a few years down the road, but they still happen. Mav dreams that he doesn’t save them, that one of the bogeys gets them before Hangman reaches them. Bradley’s feature him missing the helicopter, having to watch Mav bleed out.
“Then it was you. You were sick. It was the same thing as Mom, uterine cancer. And I couldn’t even say goodbye. You married someone else, and I wasn’t allowed in.”
She takes a sharp breath. That’s new.
“I don’t want to lose you, Mary. I love you so much, I think it would kill me.”
“Oh, honey.” She cradles his face, forcing him to look at her. “You listen to me, Bradley Bradshaw. You are the best thing to ever happen to me. I love you more than anything. In two weeks, we’re going to be living together. When the time is right, we’re going to get married and have a family.”
She can't help but press a quick kiss to his mouth. “And I’m healthy. There’s no history of uterine or breast cancer in my family, and I just had my annual appointment last week. All the tests came back negative for bad things. Nothing is wrong. I'm totally healthy, okay? I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“You can’t guarantee that.”
“You’re right, I can’t. We can’t control everything, and sometimes bad things happen. But I can promise you that I will do everything in my power to make sure I don’t ever leave you.”
“Thank you.” His voice is quiet and scratchy. “I know it’s hard with what I do, but I promise you’re my number one thought when I’m in the air; coming home safe to you is my top priority.”
“Now, I’m gonna cry, Bradley.” They both let out watery laughs. “You’re such a sweet man.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too. Now let’s go back to bed; I need my beauty sleep before I meet your parents.” She pulls him up, and they fall asleep quickly, tucked together as the early morning light peeks through the curtains.
When they get to the cemetery the next afternoon, a red rose sits on the headstone. One step in front of him, Mary picks it up and brushes some leaves off the base. He watches as she places the flower back in its spot, plucking a few dandelions before she stands.
“There,” she says, brushing dirt off her hands, “that’s better.”
The wind picks up, twisting her long hair around, and he rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, Mom, I know. She’s very pretty. I’m working on proposing. We gotta do some stuff first, but it’s coming.” He mutters under his breath.
“What was that, honey?”
“Nothing, baby doll. Want to help me put the blanket down?” His hat blows off, and he scowls at the tree that’s nearby, smiling when he hears her muffled giggle.
Miss you, dad.
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part six will be coming next week! have a great weekend everyone!
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fic tag | Mar[r]y Me masterlist | credit for dividers here
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antelopunny · 7 months
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no one tagged me i simply enjoy talking about myself in the absence of actually writing
5 Songs
(opens spotify wrapped)
Slow Bloom - The Home Team
Dancing Demons - Space Weather
Gunners in the Rain - Mili
萬千花蕊慈母悲哀 - 珂拉琪
The Mad Stone - Everything Everything
Questions
1. Three ships you like:
about to self-report on my taste so hard rn
Idira Tlass / Jae Heydari (Warhammer 40k: Rogue Trader) - OKAY LOOK. I know people are here because I write that Yrliet fic but listen up. At first I thought of them as perfect besties, which is ALSO a great flavour, but then I began rotating Idira in my mind on full blast like a 900W microwave and I went CRAZY. Like, just, okay, let me try to summarize my thoughts... so Idira, she's brash, she's loud-mouthed, she's talented as FUCK and despite being an unsanctioned psyker has beaten all the millions of odds stacked against her, but pretty soon after meeting her, you can brush past her tough facade and realise she's just aching for someone she can Be Real with. You go deeper and you realise she was raised to be a weapon for warlords to use but then one day a knight in shining armour named Theodora von Valancius busted her out, swept her off her feet and spirited her away into the stars. She wants that back, in the end: someone she can lean on, hug her when shit is rough, stay with her until the inevitability of her gruelling end at the hands of the warp. AND THEN ENTER JAE HEYDARI, a supposed 'princess' of a faraway kingdom who seemingly wants a handsome (and very rich) prince to save her, but pretty quickly you can see past the act and know that Jae is a total freebird who knows that the only person she can count on is herself. But even so, she's fiercely loyal and would happily march into a cold death if that meant saving those she cared for (as many unfortunately found out because of Jae's Act 4 quest bugging). So it's Idira, the 'witch-diviner of fates' with seemingly unbreakable will, a valiant 'dark knight'-type figure holding back horrors unseen all while quietly yearning to be saved, + Jae, the 'runaway princess of Efreet' with unyielding charm and luxurious airs, a beautiful 'blooming rose waiting to be plucked'-type of girl that under the surface is chasing after her destiny all on her own two feet, because who the hell needs a Prince Charming when your name is Jae fucking Heydari? LISTEN. LISTEN OKAY THE ROLE REVERSAL. THE UNEXPECTED INTERTWINING OF THEIR FATES IN OPPOSITE SIDES OF A DANCE. GUYS DO YOU KNOW WHAT I'M SAYI
Trahearne / Pact Commander (Guild Wars 2) - Most people haven't played GW2 at all. But a lot of people have played FFXIV. So imagine a Haurchefant-type figure that, if you choose to start as a Sylvari, has been with you having your back the whole tile, sets up the whole We Gonna Save The World organization and trusts in you to be one of his top commanders, takes the lead but in truth is always looking upon you to be his sunlight and shining spear, you are the only one that sees through the brave face he has put up this whole time for the sake of fighting the good fight, you are the one he trusts with who he is, and then the first expansion of the game comes out and he FUCKIGNGEWOI HOGESWHIIO EGIJJiaewhioewh JHAHAhsahifEGHIWHW EIEWGi NOOoOoOO anyway you should play critically acclaimed MMO Guild Wars 2 it's got a free trial all the way up to the first expansion Heart of Thorns, is a 'buy once play forever' type of MMO so you don't have to pay a sub, and is constantly updating with new story PLEASE PLAY IT WITH ME PLEASE
Zheng Chenggong / Zhou Yu (Fate/Samurai Remnant) - Yes, that Ming loyalist guy who exorcised the Dutch from Taiwan + that Romance of the Three Kingdoms twink who dabbed on Cao Cao. I have no excuse for this one. They got that twin souls separated over 1300 years shit with a heavy heaping of 'time is a flat circle and nothing we ever do will matter in the end' on top of it. Zheng Chenggong is also, uh... it gets worse the more I talk about it so I'll just stop here. If you know you know.
2. First ship ever: ...probably N Harmonia / the Pokemon B/W player character. What was it? FerrisWheelShipping??????? I was like 12 years old okay you gotta leave me alone
3. Last song you heard: Persephone in the Garden - Aidoneus. I've had it on loop while writing. It, uh... it's a mood.
4. Favorite Childhood Book: My dad made me read The Little Prince when I was a kid and I regarded it with the blind childlike wonder an idiot 7 year old would, without understanding all the underlying whispers of tragedy. I reread it along with footnotes detailing the author's shit life and the backdrop of the Vichy Regime and I was like. What the fuck father why did you give this to me
5. Currently Reading: The Sea of Fertility tetralogy. Again. Yukio Mishima's ghost constantly possesses me and forces me to reread his 800 page long suicide note
6. Currently Watching: DUNGEON MESHI! OooOooH DUNGEON MESHI (narrator voice)
7. Currently Craving: Sleep. Good fucking night
simply do this if you wish, tag games are simply a tumblr dot com psy-op to make you anxious about bothering people
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thatdayindecember · 6 months
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Ok ok ok part 1 of idk how many (no clue when next parts will be posted bc life with a newborn is busy and exhausting)
If I had to explain everything that happened, all the lies, I'd have to write a book. Maybe I will one day lmao
Anyways
I told you that baby daddy came back. And that I was gonna tell him he needed to find his own place soon.
I didnt want him at my place. I didnt even want him to come back unless he got help. But he, as always, manipulated me into letting him come back; treatening he would + saying he did attempt sui (i had to take meds while pregnant bc it gave me baddd panic attacks + i was fully convinced he died for half a day bc he didnt respond anymore) and playing the victime and making me feel guilty for him being out on the streets there (even though he deffff only had himself to thank for that bc he spend all his money).
But yeah. He came back on Feb 1st. On Feb 5th, I was gonna be induced. Well, I'd get the balloon catheter. And then get actually induced the 6th.
The days before the induction, we talked. A lot. I told him he had to come clean about all the lies. And he did. Not about everything, since then i figured out more shit he didnt tell me about. But he came clean about the big lies. And they are fucked up tbh.
I'll tell you the lies that baffled me and hurt the most (even these ones were more detailed than I describe here):
He never told his sister, who was supposedly so excited to meet me and so happy about the baby, that I or the baby even existed. He took this lie faaaar tbh. Crazy details that weren't even necessary to even speak about and that came out of nowhere. Constantly saying he was gonna take me there to meet her, showing me prices for flights, telling me to get the documents I needed to take my meds w me on the plane, telling me she still had baby things from her kids for us that we could have. He even said, during one of his mental breakdowns: "my own sister doesn't even want to be close to my son". Well, dude, if she doesn't know about him, she can't want that huh.
That car crash he was in last year in which he almost died? Never happened. He fell of the stairs drunk. He took his one far too. Insurance money? Never. Going to buy a new car, after showing me different ones and asking my opinion on which one to get and going to LT to buy it and proceeding to tell me he bought it and his nephew liked it so much and now everything would be easier for me and the baby? Yeah nope. No car. (Also: he didn't buy anything for the baby bc he was supposedly saving for the car. He wasn't.)
Oh and to take it even further, that time before the "accident" when he went to his country to pick up his car? Yeah, never even went. He was close by all the time. While my grandpa died. While I found out I was pregnant. During all the first appointments and ultrasounds. He was like 40min away while i was struggling deeply. Yeah.
At first, I was relieved he finally told the truth. That's what I've been begging for for a year yk. But it hurt. A lot.
I couldn't process anything though, there was no time.
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coreene-simblr · 1 year
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Regan Capp's Household [1]
I got them this ugly ass layout of a house. I really hate every house in Veronaville. They have beautiful exteriors but they are so bad for sims on the inside with a ton of routing issues.
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Anyways, she wants a baby and I locked that in but that's not gonna happen before her career takes off a little and they can save up to move to a decent house.
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Kent wants to woohoo. Interesting wish, can't say I've seen knowledge sims wish this on first load often.
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Aww, they got a crush. Why do all marriages starts so terribly in this town?
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Ah, yes. Cornwall bullying poor Kent. Time to find something to do for you guys
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Good Regan, keep him busy
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Could he be more clear that he wants to woohoo? I think I need one more wish on this topic
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They both want to do it again. My god, how horny are you guys? Isn't this the brit side of town? Aren't you supposed to be repressed or something??
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Have at it xD
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Meanwhile Kent xD
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So I can't see Cornwall in business for some reason. I want him to be in politics, he just gives me that vibe. He'll be in intelligence for the time being. I need them to work cause these guys desperately need money.
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They just can't keep their hands off each other xD I think they are my first crazy in love/horny couple in Sims 2
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Trying the find a job tomorrow and they both got what they wanted! I forgot to mention Regan found a job in business on her first try.
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I want to invite Bianca over but she will definitely have a fight with someone in the house. They settled on just talking on the phone and Kent seems to have given up on interacting with another human xD
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Nice, well done!
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Meanwhile, always cooking for the house Kent managed to get into the cuisine secret lot! He got a wish to join the cooking competition. It will be his first stop on his next day off.
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Kent's fancy car might sting Cornwall a little who is still going to work with a sloppy jalopy xD
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Oh, no. Mary-Sue is passing by. That can't be a good omen.
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Fuck
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Oh my god. Fucking Mary-sue xD
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I don't believe this. Neither can Cornwall
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Talking to Regan's father, he had a wish to call and he might be asking for some favors.
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Meanwhile Regan is doing wonders on her own! She got the job without her father's help and been amazing at it.
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She wished to buy clothes and I think she deserves it. While we were out she grabbed some groceries, too. Because I didn't know which VV lot had a clothing store.
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Found some nice new clothes for her with my limited cc.
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Wanted her to try this on but nah, not her style
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Noice
the rest of the update is coming soon! damn you 30 picture limit *shakes hand to the sky *
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measuringbliss · 1 year
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Spider-Man Read-Through 023: My Friend... My Foe? (ASM 134-137)
MASTERPOST
Those issues have everything...
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It's all been leading up to this event, folks. Don't worry: I always find a way to make things gay.
Just as last issue (GSSM 1), ASM #134 starts on a boat. It's holidays for Peter, Liz and MJ. Surely nothing can go wrong in those 8 hours! Oh, and Flash is also there, looking as pretty as ever. What about Harry? Oh, he has more important stuff to do :-)
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The Tarantula, one of my favorite villains if only for his great design, hijacks the boat with two of his companions.
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Underneath his brown jacket, Peter has a green shirt and blue pants that go wonderfully well together. Oh my, you think the shirt's color might be foreshadowing for later, just as Spidey fighting a similarly-patterned foe? Hmm!
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A civilian is saved, but Flash is starting to have a few theories, not regarding the suspiciously-absent Jackal or Harry's whereabouts, but rather about Spidey's identity...!
Spidey has no more webs and thus tries to be a good boy and get a cab, but New Yorkers are all acerbate and he ends up resorting to the traditional method. That's comedy we haven't seen before, nice!
So Spidey goes back to his apartment, and what had to happen, happens:
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*Did* Harry always suspect that Peter was Spidey? Hmm, I wonder.
Anyway, please note Harry and Peter's shirt is exactly the same color. Is Harry's underwear blue to complete the parallels?
The issue ends with a surprise entrance from the Punisher, surprise because Spidey's been incapacitated by the Tarantula.
In the reader's letters, Harry Daniels thinks the Jackal is actually Harry. I don't know about that one, chief. The team also says the Punisher "will be back soon"... a few pages before he actually appears, hahaha.
Time for issue #135!
The Punisher eventually recognizes Spidey is a good guy, but not before the Tarantula leaves. They plan a meeting, and then Spidey has to go.
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Flash has a lot of stuff to ask Spidey, but the latter escapes by water... and comes back as Peter.
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All's well that ends well.
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Well, almost. See, Harry has a hard time handling how handsome his roommate. Which, understandable. I will point out for all Parksborn shippers that Peter didn't just show his head, no, he pushed the curtain to show his whole body--his whole *naked* body. He's that comfortable with Harry. Now, if that doesn't scream physical intimacy, I don't know what will.
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Hide those muscled legs of yours, you slütt.
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Speaking of which, here's what Frank Castle wanted to show to our hero: smutty pictures of one Anton Miguel Rodriguez (misspelled as Rodriquez and then Rodriques on the same page). Turns out the Punisher wished to uphold a big tradition in male spaces: stag films.
What were stag films, you ask?
You should check the Wikipedia article about that, but basically, imagine tons of dudes watching e r o t i c movies together in a big room and cheering each other.
I particularly love this part:
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So yeah, that's pretty gay, and absolutely fascinating to my eyes. The big question I have, though, is whether there was a female equivalent. I couldn't find one, but I can't imagine that no woman in those times thought about making that kind of film too and/or sharing it to an all female-audience, probably much more discreetly than the above. It's a truly fascinating subject to me. Was this an excuse to infodump lore on you? Maybe. But I'm half-making that joke, because this scene between Spidey and the Punisher is still a bit gay. Yes, I see homosexuality (and or bisexuality) everywhere, you should know this by now.
I'm just saying, the Punisher didn't have to show such hot photos of a revolutionary. It was a choice. Everything is a choice.
They get rid of the Tarantula, all is well that ends well.
Oh wait.
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Ackchuallly, we're gonna have to wait till--next line! Life in 2023 isn't so bad after all.
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Time for the cover that made me buy the 1974 collection at the time!
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The issue opens with Peter and MJ on a date and I can't believe that I recognized (visually, not nominally) the place they are. Ross Andru, devs of Insomniac, y'all are incredible.
Also, MJ's outfit is really groovy, love it for her.
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Yes, MJ, objectify the fuck out of him!!!!! You go girl!!!!
In fact, she goes so hard that the door and the apartment inside explode.
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So Peter and Harry have been in this apartment from #47 to #136. Almost 90 issues!
Please note that Peter's wearing green all over his body.
MJ goes to the hospital, but she's fine. Peter, however, is worried and goes to one of the Goblin's old warehouse. Nothing seems suspicious, after all, everything's covered in dust...
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... except that Spidey taught a lot of us that something like that even existed. Smart thinking, tiger!
The wait is long, but eventually, he shows up.
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Peter is not amused by the discovery that Harry's been training for this confrontation, whereas he expected his foe to just be an average Joe. It's surprisingly easy to imagine Harry training at the gym and trying to avoid having... unnecessary feelings about his (former) best friend.
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Edgeworth knows aaaaall about those.
I think seeing Peter and Harry fight in SM3 fueled my taste in fiction, and those issues confirmed it.
During the fight, Harry rambles about how once Spidey (Peter, really) is dead, he'll finally be able to do his own thing, free to live his own life again, to seek his own glory. Ooh, the daddy issues...!
In the end, Harry escapes and Peter is very worried. He's also a dick to Betty, but who knows, maybe it's part of his master plan...
We start the last issue, #137, the best way possible (after a quick Goblin-related prologue):
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...with gorgeous colors!
Peter eventually returns to the hospital and...
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Oh! Those pants. There we are, I guess, huh! This is *the* era. Liz has a great outfit, Flash too, but the real champion here is naturally Robertson, whose suit I'm jealous of. By the way, Peter's not wearing green anymore--at all!
He quickly leaves though when MJ turns on the radio. Neither her or May are really sure what Peter's deal is, but oh well. After 3 years or so, you just get used to it.
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Two rows of comedy gold, two!!!
And eventually...
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Aaaah the colors, the colors of the first panel!!!!!!!!
What follows is a great dramatic idea.
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This is diabolical. This is excellent. Love it.
And while Harry calls Spidey "Peter" as he gloats, Spidey knocks Harry out... and calls him "Osborn".
Just as Spidey figures out who Harry targeted, his webbing runs off. It's a great obstacle! He uses last issue's McGuffin to get more of it.
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When I was a kid, I never understood why Harry had picked May when MJ seemed just as likely a choice. Of course, Flash really wasn't, his love for Spidey is pure adulation. But Harry's doing everything to avenge his father--his blood relative. He gives much more credit to blood than to more subtle relationships, and that's part of why he immediately distrusts Spidey and Peter instead of trying to reconcile his idea of Peter with what actually happened. It's all the more striking because the gang has been shown to support Harry at least as much as Norman, notably when he came back from rehab in #105.
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A page that I remembered very well. What a great issue. What a great set of issues. I wonder what's in store next for Harry! I hope he comes back soon.
In the readers' letters, the team says that they slowed down time (obviously) and ask the readers if they'd prefer Peter to finish university.
In the next batch, we get to 1975! Now, as you may recall, I've read a big part of it (the first Clone Saga), but it will be interesting to see maybe one or two new issues for me.
See you later, alligators!
Also, I think Peter gets a new roommate, but shhh...
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gnattyplayssims · 1 year
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1948 Pt1 - A New Home
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Hezekiah sat contemplating his move while Stefan watched him anxiously. "Stop stalling and go already."
"Patience son, one can't rush a good strategy. Ah here we are."
"Awe man...I wasn't paying attention."
"See! You can't rush the game or you'll make mistakes."
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The phone rang and Kye wheeled to the living room to answer. His heart leapt when a familiar woman's voice spoke. "It's all settled, Kye. We just need you here to close the deal."
"Great and you managed to get the price lowered to what we agreed upon?"
"18k just as you said."
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"Lizzie I need to tell you something."
"If it's about Ivy...I already know about the drugs. I'm working on it."
"Uh...no...it's not about that. Our trip to Copperdale next week...Anabelle doesn't know yet but...it's gonna be permenant."
"Oh. You're leaving?"
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"Hey you'll be fine. Kailee and Knox are just across the river and I'll be just a phone call away."
"I know... you can't stay forever I just never put much thought into how soon it might be."
"I know it's been hard these last few years, but I'm really proud of you Lizzie."
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"Proud of me? Why?"
"You tackled a devistating event and made it something beautiful. Transforming Kailee's old apartment into a homeless shelter, teaching teens life skills that will help them get jobs or raise families. I know you can do anything."
"I'm gonna miss you, Kye."
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In Copperdale, the family enjoyed a leisurely day at the carnaval and checking out the sights until they were exhausted. "I'm ready to go to the rental now."
Kye took Sofia's hand, "One last stop...Stefan would you cover your mother's eyes for me."
"Kye, what are you up to?"
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Stefan kept her eyes covered as they made their way up the path, Anabelle was starting to get annoyed.
"Just a little further."
"Ok, ok"
"Alright you can let her look now."
For a moment she couldn't comprehend what she was looking at, then a smile came over her face. "Kye."
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For a moment the four of them just stood there looking at it. "Is this ours? Is this really our home? But how? I could save another decade and still not be able to afford something this big."
"Look mom, dad already put in some of your plants under the window."
"I see them."
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She fell into his arms overcome by emotion. "I don't know how you did it but I love it."
"Well I do have a confession...two actually. I did use the money you were saving to buy this but the rest...well I never told you but as it turns out a handicap pension is pretty hefty."
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Kye brushed the tears from her face. "Alright enough of that, you 3 go stand in front of the door so I can get pictures."
"Come here you two." Anabelle pulled them close despite their complaints. Sofia felt awkward when Stefan threw his arm around her neck but smiled anyway.
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"Don't think you're gonna get away with no pictures, mister. Get over here and get some pictures with your kids."
Hezekiah chuckled as Anabelle took the camera from him. She'd always wanted a wall filled with photos of a family she'd created and now she could do just that.
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A few weeks later the Greenburg's came to visit from Evergreen Harbor. It was a long trip but thankfully travel had become better between the worlds and it was easier for them to come for a shorter amount of time. The family was excited to catch up and show them around the house.
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"I could always tell this is what you wanted deep down."
"You always were there to keep me on the right track. I'm glad things worked out that way."
"Well they didn't just work out. Joining The Movement was just an excuse to make sure you weren't alone. You needed the push."
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"Is everything alright Kailee, you look a bit pale." "It was just a long trip."
"Uh huh, not an easy one on the stomach I imagine."
"Ok you got me, we're expecting"
"Oh that's so exciting! I know how hard you've been trying."
"It's been a long road, but we're ready now."
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After a long evening of catching up and playing card games, Sofia finally had some time to cuddle up with a book. The banter of the family had been exhausting. Even Stefan had joined in while she always struggled to interact. But she was determined to make this family work.
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That evening Anabelle woke from a bad dream her eyes scrambling for something familiar but not recognizing her surroundings. She rolled over and saw Kye and everything came into focus. This was their new house. She was in bed...with her husband everything was fine.
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She stroked his collarbone gently as if assuring herself he was real and he stirred a bit. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep." S
he kissed him on the cheek and he turned toward her, "Everything alright?"
"Yes, it was just a bad dream. I'm fine now."
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"Do you want to talk about it." "It was nothing, really, just fear playing with my head. I dreamt I lost you...and the kids. I was in a forest all alone and the people I love most were gone."
"It was just a dream. You know I'm not going anywhere."
"I know. Just a silly fear."
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"I love you, you know. So much! I could never let you go. If anything happened to this family, I would fight like hell to bring us back together again."
"You wouldn't get very far." He gasped in fake offense, "Don't be mean."
"Shut up and kiss me."
"Whatever you want."’
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The next morning the Greenburg's headed back to Evergreen. "Thanks so much for having us. We'll send you a letter when the baby arrives and be sure to call once in awhile if you don't have time to write." The two families said their goodbyes and life as a family of four began.
1948 Pt2 - The Butterfly Ring
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lizzieblabbers · 11 months
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octobery bery long ????
so remember the vacation entry i promised to post?? well... in my defense, tho, life came in the way and i had to prioritize urgent big girl stuff so i really had no time to sit down in front of my laptop and recall all my province memories
but it's sitting sa drafts na, will not set a date anymore, it'll just... be up
so anyway
october was so long wtf hHASDHADHA
tODAY'S THE TENTH AND I FINALLY FOUND THE WORDS EHEHEHEH (see cleaning is the key)
so, october, to put it simply, is challenging yet rewarding. (big words from a big girl lyke me 8D *winks*
as i've mentioned in my previous post, i hadn't really had much time to kool down from the province high because i needed to be the adult that i am as soon as i arrived. it did not help that the professors had already started discussions and of course with those are activities with deadlines that were sooner than i had expected.
now, i really meant it when i said that october was sooooooo looong. or was it because i had too much on my plate that i barely had the time to rest and let time pass by? either way, it was the longest month i had this year because a lot was going on.
first week of october, i had to go somewhere, ALONE, without any idea of what am i gonna do there.
OKAY I HAVE TO STOP HERE its ten pm and i am fucking sleepy (yeah it be like that sometimes) im gonna continue this tomorrow
hi today's the day after tomorrow and wtf am i doing with my life
i have decided not to pursue the vacation post because i felt like i have already said enough about it in my previous entries (albeit trying to tone it down for, well, the said separate entry) and i think it would just be redundant??? idk, im messed up like that
ANYWAY OCTOBER
so much has happened this past month that i can't really keep track of everything. october taught me a lot of lessons which i guess i can generally apply to all aspects of my life.
for one, it taught me that life isn't and will never be black and white. there are tons of gray areas existing that we should maybe look at and examine its relevance and how it affects each of us. not saying we should always justify everything, but you know... it wouldn't hurt to have another approach to life
anyhoo why am i getting all wisdom-y word-y here, im not that smart
my october mainly revolved on school and adulting responsibilities, alongside some realizations. as for school, it took me a while to adjust to the new academic year because there has been a lot of necessary changes for a less-stressful semester but all in all i'm fine now and already on the process of hooking myself back up to how i was before the vacay.
as for adulting responsibilities, well... october 2023 is when i first received a salary for doing something!!! yay :D immediately put it in a savings account and stopped myself from buying unnecessary stuff because i really want to practice this until i already have a job (FUCK THIS ADULT THING IS GETTING REALER ANY MINUTE) and as much as possible, save save save because i know im gonna need a lot if i want to sleep peacefully at night
guess that's the highlight of my month? won't dwell too much on the negative shits because (1) i can't really remember them aotm, and (2) i don't want to remember them anymore
in case of a relapse, however, i would definitely head straight here and let out everything i think about
THAT'S IT FOR OCTOBER, THANK YEW
bubhyYEE
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amadiallo · 3 years
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my macbook’s trackpad is done for....... time for a macbook pro!
0 notes
empty-movement · 2 years
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EMPTY MOVEMENT HAS WARES IF YOU HAVE COIN
OR DON’T
This time, with a graphic!!! 
Empty Movement’s big week of Utena stuff is UNDERWAY.
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-> Do you like free things? Denim jackets? Playing cards? Musical Utena with a music box? Enter our free giveaway before Friday at 6pm EST! 
-> Do you like the brand new beautiful Utena and Anthy Dollfies? We do too! We acquired two sets of them, and one set is being sold now, with the opening bid *at cost to us.* ***KEEP IN MIND the listing is in Canadian dollars!! This auction ends next Monday! (Why yes we’re hoping to keep the other pair....)
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-> Okay, Dollfies ain’t cheap. Fair. Do you like over 70 items of Utena merchandise??? We are auctioning a ton of Utena stuff, much of it personally bought and carried back from the 2018 and 2019 musical trips. The auctions also all start at our cost! What kind of merch??? -> THE SERIES ACCURATE TEACUP AND TEAPOT SETS MADE FOR THE MUSICALS ARE UP. We literally only have like two each left.  -> One of the last playing card sets made by Vanna to come with the wooden box also made for them. These are the same playing cards as in the raffle, but with the box! Yes, there’s also a third plain deck up for sale.  -> SO MUCH UTENA MYU MERCH. The hankie you got for buying the expensive 2018 show ticket? Yep. Friggin’ bath salts? Indeed! The lovely BRS fan? Clear files? WASHI TAPE? A FEW OF THOSE BADASS DUEL KEYCHAINS? THERE ARE SEVERAL. Here’s a Mikage.  -> BROMIDES. BROMIDES. SO MANY!!! We have auctions with multiple copies of some of them, which means they sell at the price bid *by the lowest winning bid.* Saves y’all money, helps me get these bromides to happy homes! We have plenty of the three bromide packs (like Utena’s here), as well as a ton of swap bromides, even a handful from the first musical!  -> The entire list can be found here. These auctions end next Tuesday, with the bigger stuff going and then the bromides, with a minute or two between each auction for y’all to have time. There’s just so much stuff here!!! Please buy it! Here’s a pic of everything. I know the auction site isn’t the most intuitive. Fuck eBay.
“BUT EMPTY MOVEMENT,” you say.
“You aren’t fooling me! You just want my money, and I think this is not sufficiently providing value for me yet.”
Tough crowd. Alright. Well how about we STREAM THE MUSICALS ALL WEEKEND? Including the ultra-rare, shaves years off our lives Euro zone streams that require we not really sleep! That’s right. Just as it says above, we are streaming on Twitch this weekend!
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2018′s Musical Utena ~ Bud of the White Rose
Friday July 8, 7PM EST/4PM PST
Saturday July 9, 11AM EST UK: 4PM, Fr: 5PM 
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2019′s Musical Utena ~ Blooming Rose of Deepest Black
Saturday July 9, 7PM EST/4PM PST
Sunday July 10, 11AM EST UK: 4PM, Fr: 5PM
Y’all know we always have fun! We’ll announce the giveaway winners during the first stream somewhere, and sometime this week we’re gonna post more info about the Dollfies. Anyway, love you, see you soon, spend some money, or don’t, and either way, stay tuned for a TON of new stuff!! You know, once this all is over, lol.
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tobiokuns · 3 years
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— surprise pregnancy with haikyuu boys
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summary: you hadn’t planned for this to happen. neither of you had. but it had, and now you had to tell him.
characters: kageyama tobio, miya atsumu, akaashi keiji
tags: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, some humor, brief mention of abortion, implied body image insecurities, happy ending
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— kageyama tobio
you wring your hands as you lean against the doorjamb, anxiously waiting for kageyama to come home. he’d had a long week, you know, but your first appointment with your doctor is on monday, and you think he’d like to be there if possible. at least, you’d put it off long enough.
the click of the lock unlatching and the familiar turn of the knob raises your attention. you feel like you’re going to choke under the pressure, and even seeing his face doesn’t calm you down.
if anything, you’re even more nervous, seeing the sweat on his brow.
“tobio—” you call over to him when he walks through the door, before you lose your nerve, “i’m pregnant.”
there’s a terse silence, even though kageyama just looks confused. your boyfriend blinks once, twice, and scrunches his eyebrows like he always does when he’s thinking hard, and just stares. your heart pounds in your chest.
“...but i just signed onto a new team,” he says, finally.
you make a sound of affirmation. “yeah, i know,” you sigh, smiling tightly, “but we can make it work, right?”
he kinda looks like he does when he’s setting, in deep concentration, kind of unhappy. you wait for him to say something, anything, but the silence stretches on, for so long that you think you’ll have a heart attack.
“my first doctor’s appointment is on monday,” you tell him, trying to nudge him into saying something, “do you want to come with me?”
“i can’t, i have practice,” he blurts out almost automatically, and you nod. of course he does. it’s silent for a while, and then he’s speaking again. “can’t you...” he swallows, looking away, “...not have the baby?”
don’t lose your shit, you tell yourself, don’t lose your shit. you tamp down the growing anger and nod again, making another vague humming noise.
“yeah, i could,” you agree, voice eerily quiet, “but i want the baby, tobio.”
“okay,” he nods, “...do what you want, then.” 
your heart drops. you can’t see his face, not with his bangs covering his eyes, but you stare at him for a while anyway, your own eyes stinging. you silently shuffle back into the house, leaving him standing in the doorway.
it’s awkward when he slips into bed that night. you keep your back to him, but you can almost feel his gaze on the ceiling. you don’t know when he sleeps, or if he ever does. by the time you wake up, he’s wrapped around you, leg thrown over yours, his big hand rubbing over your still flat stomach under your shirt.
he jolts awake as soon as you stir, dropping his lips against your neck and nuzzling you.
“i’m sorry about last night,” he murmurs immediately, and you’re sure he’s pouting. “y-you caught me off guard. i want it. the... the baby. with you.”
you sigh, staring at the wall opposite from you. you think of having to move again, back to japan this time. you thought that would be good for you and kageyama, but his reaction last night...
“are you sure?” you ask, covering his hand with yours, missing some of the bravado you had, “we can...”
“no,” he sounds almost childish, and you smile, wondering how he’ll be as a father, “no, i’m—i’m sure.”
his arms tighten around you. it’s not often that you get to cuddle in the morning with kageyama, not when he’s always going for jogs and volleyball practice. so you lean back, telling yourself that everything will be just fine.
— miya atsumu
“y’know, y/n...” your boyfriend says to you one day, “yer gettin’ kinda... like, fat...”
you whip your head around to stare at him, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. he cowers instinctively, waiting for you to hit him like you usually do, but your arm stops midair before you let it drop. 
you wanted to hide this a little longer, because to be honest, you were scared. scared of his reaction, scared he wouldn’t want you, scared you’d be left alone. but you sigh, knowing you couldn’t anymore, and slump against the couch.
“atsumu...” you lower your voice, and instantly he cowers more.
“i‘m sorry! i didn’t mean it like that!” he yells, hands covering his face, “don’t hit me, i’m beggin—”
“no, atsumu,” you sigh, taking his hands into yours, “listen to me.”
he sees how serious your expression is and quiets down, bowing his head and leaning closer to you. the idiot still probably thinks you’re mad because he called you fat, you think. you would’ve laughed if you didn’t feel like puking at this moment.
“i’m pregnant,” you say, taking a deep breath, “we’re gonna have a baby.”
“hah?” he retorts quickly, “we’re what? no, we’re not.”
you watch as his face changes, and then he’s off again. “no, y/n, ya can’t be pregnant. i can’t be a dad. have ya met me? samu doesn’t even have a kid yet, ‘nd that’s like, the one thing i don’t wanna beat him at and— goddammit, i shoulda used condoms—”
 “atsumu,” you almost scream, the panic bubbling up in your chest, “do you not want to do this with me?”
“but, weren’t ya on the pill or somethin’? how could this happen?” he acts as if he hadn’t heard your question,” y/n, are ya sure it’s min—”
you can’t take it anymore and burst out crying. you don’t even pay attention to the fact that he just accused you of cheating. the stress from the weeks of keeping this to yourself explodes and you sob loudly, louder than atsumu’s panicked rambling.
“shit—” he curses, seeing your tears, and quickly taking your hands into his, “y/n, ’m sorry, i—it’s just—i’m gonna be a horrible dad, ya know? i don’t know if i can do this, it’s like... i’m not very reliable ‘nd ma always said—”
“but,” you sniffle through your tears, “aren’t we doing this together?”
he nods slowly, and then moves to rest his head on your chest. he tentatively puts a hand on your stomach, rubbing his index finger over it as if it were foreign to him.
“yeah,” he agrees quietly, “we’re doing this together.”
— akaashi keiji
you knew akaashi hadn’t wanted a child, not yet at least. you knew that, and yet when he said okay the night you told him you were pregnant, you were naive enough to think that it was actually okay.
he works, all the time, very hard. it only made sense, he had told you he needed to, in order to get to where he wanted to be. but it left you many nights, belly and feet swollen, joints aching, alone on the couch, wondering what you were doing.
did you eat your vitamins? he asks softly every morning without fail. but that was it.
you went to doctor’s appointments alone, you shopped for baby clothes alone, and you stared at the empty four walls of the baby’s room alone. you were too afraid to buy furniture for it: it seemed too permanent, especially when being pregnant seemed like a repressed dream every day.
"keiji, ” you call out to him early one morning, before he can leave for work again, “...let’s not have the baby.”
he doesn’t respond and for a moment you can’t even tell if he heard you. but then he’s whipping his head around, as if he had just realized what you said, and scrambles to kneel at your side.
“what’s wrong?” he places a hand on your belly, right beside yours, like he never had, “are you feeling—”
“you’re never here!” you cry, wincing at your own screech, “i don’t want to do this alone, keiji. i can’t do this alone. the baby started kicking yesterday, you know? and you weren’t there. i didn’t even know what to do. i’m not gonna know what to do. god, we need a crib and a c-changing table, and—”
you stop when he lays his head down on your lap. 
“i’m sorry,” he mumbles faintly, his hot breath seeping through your shirt. the kitchen is silent with your sniffles. you’re so tired, from the pregnancy or everything else, but you tangle your fingers in akaashi’s hair, and it brings you just an ounce of comfort. it’s soft as always, just like it was when you had started dating.
“i’m sorry,” he says again, turning his head to the side to face you, letting your fingers drift over his cheek, “i was taking on more work, to save money for... for the baby. i hadn’t— ...i didn’t realize i was neglecting you, y/n.” 
 you look down, “y-you were what?” 
 “i took on a new author,” he tells you, “and i asked around for some freelance work. i think we’re okay financially, but you never know, so i thought it’d be good to have extra—”
“keiji,” you interrupt, voice scratchy, “were you nervous?” 
“well, yes,” he admits, leaning into your palm, “but that’s no excuse for leaving you all alone. i can drop the freelance, maybe move most of my work back home—” 
you smile, the familiar sound of akaashi overthinking things a buzz in your ears. you brush your thumb over the wrinkles between his eyebrows, tracing the lines on his face, recognizing the way his eyes tighten when he’s serious. he looks up at you. 
“do you want to come to the doctor’s with me on thursday?” you sniffle softly, smiling at him. 
“...yes,” he nods, almost like a reflex, but you can see him thinking again, his stare blanking. you reach down to intertwine your fingers with his, placing them over your belly. the focus returns to his eyes and he looks reassured, finally smiling back at you. 
“yes,” he repeats, “i’ll come with you.”
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obeiii-mee · 3 years
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Can I angst for Mammon where he is in a really bad mood and his brothers are at it again calling him names. And already ask them kindly to leave him alone but they keep at it. And Levi says something and it's the last straw. The air around them get cold for a moment as he slowly looks up and he flat out threatens them to shut up before he puts them back into there place with a really dark and threatening voice, before leaving. And the look could rival Satan's or even Lucifers glare.
I think Mammon takes the abuse of his brothers but sometimes he isn't in the mood and want a little peace and it is very very rare for him to get pissed
Like he's the kind of person who would yell when he's upset but when he's down right pissed it's like really fucking scary
People forget that as much as he lets his brothers push him around he is still the second oldest and is powerful so 😬
Brothers+ undateables reaction
Mammon snaps:
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This is something I’ve mentioned in previous posts, but I basically second everything you said. I believe that Mammon dislikes getting into confrontations but isn’t by any means weak or stupid. He is the second eldest. However he is also, arguably, the one with the most self control out of them all. He has an overwhelming amount of patience when it comes to his siblings and I like to think he puts up with all of their insults because he loves them. Then again, it’s very possible for him to go berserk after years worth of build up.
Thanks for the request!!! I had a bit of trouble at first because I didn’t know how I was going to format it but I like the way it turned out so I hope you do too. Uhh also I reached my word limit writing this so I couldn’t include Simon, Luke and Solomon. I do plan on writing for them as well but at this point I’m just trying to get this done. Let me know if I made any grammatical errors! I double check my writing all the time but sometimes mistakes got over my head! The undateables are short because honestly I view the brothers as the ones who will suffer the most out of everyone. I hope you enjoy reading it anyway!!
•Characters: Lucifer, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphagour, Diavolo, Barbatos.
⚠️Warnings: Cursing, mentions of blood & gore and that’s about it.
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For the past few months, Lord Diavolo’s pleasure of hosting parties and inviting people over had become more and more noticeable. It was pretty obvious that the Prince was lonely, isolating himself from others due to the responsibilities he has as the heir to the throne and a leader in the making. Attending his gatherings seemed like a down right chore for most of the brothers but you never had any problem tagging along. Besides, it felt nice knowing he seemed you worthy of coming to such important meetings. Your seven demons were, of course, also invited and per Lucifer’s orders, they all got cleaned up and dressed in fancy clothing to impress the regals prancing about the castle. Though the outfits themselves came with their own set of problems. Levi’s was way too tight; the collar seemed to annoy him more than anything else, judging by the patches of red skin on his neck. Satan accidentally ripped one of the buttons from his jacket off in a fit of rage earlier that day and was now silently fuming while poking his finger through the hole he made. Even Asmo spilled some water on his shirt before they arrived, ruining his pretty pink suit! Not to mention Beel was munching on his tie, having last eaten about 15 minutes beforehand. Lucifer pulled it out of his mouth and scowled at the saliva stains that were left behind. Safe to say they were all in a miserable mood to begin with.
“I expect all of you to behave in a respectable manner,” Lucifer flicked Belphie on the back of the head just as he began dozing off, making the youngest growl at him. He shot Mammon an irritated look “I’m especially talking to you Mammon. Don’t try to steal anything or I’ll cut your hands off.”
“I told ya big bro, ya don’t have to worry about me! I’ll be a golden child today! Promise!” Mammon held up his pinky as if he was committing to some kind of oath. The eldest darkened his glare and opened his mouth to say something else, but you interrupted in hopes of avoiding any bickering that might’ve followed.
“Look, there’s our table! Let’s go sit down. Lord Diavolo’s speech is going to start any minute now.”
Beel leaped at the table as soon as he sniffed out the appetisers, which were neatly arranged on the expensive tablecloth, shoving at least half of them in his mouth by the time the rest of you caught up with him. Having been seated, you quickly glanced around the room in hopes of spotting Diavolo. You bumped into Solomon and the angels before entering the castle, chit chatting with them for a while about the event. Even now, Luke was excitedly waving at you from across the room, using both of his arms. However, Lord Diavolo and Barbatos were the ones in charge of this party and you were yet to see either of them.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Mammon eyeing the golden utensils laid out in front of him. Not the biggest of surprises really. Anytime Mammon sees something along the lines of gold, he can’t help but snatch it away. And there’s obviously so many valuables scattered all over the place, including the silverware that was proudly presented on every table. You sucked in a breath of anticipation when he reached for one of the spoons, only to exhale in relief when he placed it on the bridge of his nose, trying to balance it.
“MC, look at this!” He tapped your shoulder, as always wanting your full and undivided attention as he demonstrated his newfound skill. You giggled at his antics with fondness as he accidentally let the spoon drop with a clatter and a quiet ‘shit’ coming from him. Lucifer pulled on his ear, like a mother scolding her child and whisper-yelled at him to stop acting like an idiot. The only reason the oldest chose a sit right next to Mammon was to maintain order and peace. Basically, he did it for disciplinary reasons.
“I understand that being impertinent is your full-time job, Mammon but keep this up and I’ll throw you in Cerberus’ room. Let him do with you as he pleases.”
“Lucifer, it’s not a big deal-“
“Yeah, OK,” Mammon hissed, picking up the spoon from the recently polished floor with a slight grin that didn’t quiet reach his eyes “I gotcha. Can-“
“Speaking of Cerberus,” Levi suddenly piped in, no longer fussing about his collar or nervously twiddling with his thumbs because of the massive crowd of demons surrounding him “Didn’t you force me to walk him last week when it was your turn to do it?? I only agreed because you promised to buy me the newest Ruri-Chan limited edition body pillow that came out last Tuesday! And you never did! And now they’re out of stock, you scummy piece of-“
The third eldest would’ve leapt across the table and aimed for the throat if you hadn’t pressed a gentle hand against his chest, making him sit back down with a huff. People were starting to stare at the commotion coming from your table, turning heads and muttering between themselves. You were slowly dying from embarrassment by the way, since you guys definitely became the topic of conversation for the other guests. The brothers were being too noisy to even notice and Lucifer himself was too preoccupied to see the scene they were creating which made you further slouch down into your chair, silently hoping for the ground to swallow you whole. The night really wasn’t going as intended. You could hear Solomon laughing at the brothers’ antics from three tables down.
“I guess that’s Mammon for you,” Belphie yawned, barely raising his head from table “He lies everyday, all day. What exactly is new here? And that says something since it’s coming from me.”
“I apologised for that!” Mammon whined, referring to Levi’s accusation and choosing not to address Belphie’s insult “I was gonna buy it but then I realised I spent all my money earlier that week anyway so I couldn’t!”
“Perhaps that wouldn’t happen if you learned how to save the money you earn properly,” Satan muttered, sipping from his glass of whatever beverage he had snatched from the servants earlier “Not like you know how to earn money in any way besides stealing it.”
You watch as Mammon clenched his fist “Can we please just move on-“
“I can’t believe that I was cursed with this moron for a brother,” Asmo sighed, almost theatrically, as if he was performing. And, in a way, he was. People were getting really interested in the drama unfolding over there. It was making you even more anxious, all those eyes staring at you. The Avatar of Lust was leaning so much on his chair, you were sure he was going to topple over and at this point, you kinda hoped he would. Anything to stop this momentum of hatred aimed at Mammon “You’re always getting us in trouble, you know. Hmph, we can’t go anywhere with you Mammon! You always end up ruining it for us! With your stupid schemes and-“
“I’m hungry-“
“Not now, Beel!”
“Cutting him up into tiny pieces for the witches will always be an option,” Lucifer chimed in, smiling at the thought.
Mammon snapped his head upwards at that. It was such an abrupt reaction, it made you jolt a little in your seat. You couldn’t miss the tension radiating from him, how quickly his body stiffened and exactly how hard his hands were gripping the edge of the table. His brothers were still paying him no mind, blaming him for this and that under their breath or being silently judgemental in Lucifer’s case. You worried for him because Mammon rarely acted like this; feral, in a way. Just so you know, he definitely noticed it. The look of concern plastered all over your face. That’s the only reason he released the table from his vice-like grip and slouched back against his chair. Satan went quiet and was staring at Mammon in bewilderment.
He disliked the idea of you watching him lose control of himself. He was your guardian. Your first pact. It’s important to him that your relationship is build around a pillar of trust. And he can’t even expect you to trust him if he exposes you to his demon form every time something inconveniences him. Mammon would rather cease to exit than have you fear him. So he kept his breathing regulated as the fog cleared his mind. The Avatar of Greed isn’t an angry demon. Snuffing out the the flame of rage he had fanned up until then was relatively easy. He just needed to get through tonight, then he could go home and complain to you about it once he got out of his brothers’ earshot.
“Why does he get to spend so much time with MC anyway? He’d probably sell them for a few Grimm any time of the day, wouldn’t he? It’s so fucking unfair. He won’t change no matter what so why risk MC’s safety? I will summon Lotan on him if he starts getting on my nerves.”
It would be an understatement to say that those words rubbed Mammon the wrong way, judging by the lack of immediate response. It was unexpected for him keep his mouth shut at a time like this. What was even more unexpected was the abrupt, delayed reaction he had a few seconds afterwards, resulting in his chair being flung back about 5 feet in that general direction. The seemingly deafening thud it made when it collided with the floor echoed around the dining hall, bouncing off walls and whacking people over the heads with the aggression behind it. A moment of pure, indescribably loud silence filled the crowded space as everyone else stared in shock at their brother, mouths agape and eyes bulging out of their sockets. Mammon would’ve laughed at their faces if it weren’t for the circumstances leading up to that point.
“What gives any of you the right to treat me like some sort of punching bag?” Mammon drawled, accentuating his obviously superior nature to almost every single demon at that table. He laughed, in an oddly half hearted way, before his sea struck gaze landed back to his siblings “Do not try to push me into a corner, because I will not handle it well. You’ve been having a field day with me for centuries now and I’m starting to get really ticked off, ya know? But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’ve done everything in my power to keep MC alive for the past few months and y’all are acting as if I’m out here playing with their life. Complain about me all you want. But...” He thumped the table, loud enough to make all the noblemen in the room flinch.
“Don’t you dare insinuate that I would ever put MC in danger, willingly or not because I will rip out your insides and paint the walls of this palace with them while hanging your intestines from these chandeliers. I will pluck your hairs out one by one, then your nails, then your eyeballs and then your teeth. You’re the ones that have put MC in danger’s way time and time again in the past few weeks, and you’re out here trying to suggest that I would even think about hurting them? Unlike every single one of you, who almost killed my human-you’re lucky I don’t have your fucking heads.”
He smashed his fist into the table again, using even more of his strength this time and effectively breaking the whole thing, the wooden legs giving out and shattering into thousands of splinters. Mammon spoke again, his voice lowering “MC forgave you. I didn’t. And I have no reason to. Not with how you’ve been treating me.”Once he spit that out, Mammon turned on his heel and left, slamming the door shut behind him hard enough to shake the whole building, leaving his siblings in dazed awe.
......
Even more silence. For some reason, all of the brothers at the now broken table ended up looking your way, silently questioning what they should do. It often ended up like this
You gave them all an unimpressed stare and a half-assed shrug “Don’t look at me. You guys fucked up.” Before sliding out of your seat and following Mammon out of the castle, sending an apologetic smile to Diavolo on your way out. Hopefully, you could manage to calm him down before everyone else gets home otherwise this might drag on for a while.
Lucifer:
-In all honesty, he probably saw the signs from a mile away and still decided to ignore them
-Maybe because he believed they weren’t being all that harsh on him, even if in Mammon’s eyes they were
-‘Harsh’ in Lucifer’s vocabulary usually means being hanged upside down from a ceiling or publicly executed, not a couple of mere insults
-Not to mention the eldest had always been horrible at communicating with his brothers when it came to emotions
-Despite Mammon clearly suffering from the treatment he received from his brothers, Lucifer refuses to believe he’s the root of the problem
-As the Avatar of Pride, he always had a hard time realising that all those words and the constant teasing, which he deemed to be pretty harmless, scarred Mammon a lot more than expected
-Once he actually comes to that conclusion, and after getting over the initial shock, Lucifer would probably feel the guiltiest out of them all
-Being the eldest means he carries quite a few burdens on his shoulders as most responsibilities fall on him due to his prideful nature
-He would blame himself for Mammon’s outburst simply because he’s the older brother and he should’ve known better, not just because he sees how a big of a role he played in all of this
-Usually, if his brothers do something bad, then he’s there to fix it within hours, that’s how it always worked
-Except he doesn’t know how to fix this exactly
-The problem is he has no idea how to approach Mammon after that sudden meltdown and he has no idea how to talk it out with him because he sucks at expressing himself verbally
-And since this took place in a public space, Lord Diavolo’s Palace no less, he felt really conflicted on what should have been done at that moment in time
-There was a lot of frustration, embarrassment and confusion in him for a good five minutes after Mammon slammed that door shut behind him and even after he gathered his thoughts together, he was still in shock for the rest of the night
-In any case, the whole event was promptly cancelled and everyone ended up going home earlier than expected, after Lucifer apologised to Diavolo about the spectacle they created (several times)
-When they finally get home, he decided to give Mammon his space instead of trying to knock at his door and instead went back to his room
-He knows they will need to solve this matter soon but there’s no way Mammon will want to see, let alone talk, to any of them just yet
-He’s sort of hoping he can apologise best he can next morning at breakfast, cross his fingers and wish for the best but judging by the venom that laced Mammon’s voice the night before, it’s not likely he will forgive any of them that easily.
Levi:
-If I were to guess, he saw the ending credits of his life flash before his very eyes as soon as those words left his mouth
-Levi felt a panic in him like never before, not even while playing his engaging horror visual novels at 3am in complete darkness or that one time he used Lucifer’s credit card to buy merch before being found out
-Must’ve forgotten his brother technically ranks higher than him on the power scale for a second there
-Or maybe he didn’t think his insults were going to affect him much
-They usually don’t
-Or at least that’s the impression he’s been under for a while now
-Mammon doesn’t snap easily under pressure but Levi must’ve really hit a nerve there that night
-While everyone was sitting in a short silence after Mammon left the building, he started twiddling with his fingers again the more he thought about it
-Because now he went from nervous to fucking terrified of what the hell was waiting for him when he finally got home
-He does feel guilty, nowhere near as much guilt as Lucifer feels but still pure shame
-However most of that guilt is swallowed by a steady fear and the constant worry of ‘how do I stop my brother from killing me?’
-Unlike Lucifer, I honestly don’t see him taking any sort of initiative when it comes to apologising to Mammon
-Not even because he doesn’t want to, but he would freeze up if he were to come face to face with him after that incident and then scamper back to his room like a rat in hiding
-So without your help, it’s likely the two won’t be speaking to each very soon which can honestly make life at the House of Lamentation so much more miserable
-In the end, if either you or Lucifer forced him to, he would say sorry by selling some of his merch and then giving him the profits (in secret but we all know it’s him)
-That is a big sacrifice on Levi’s part considering how precious his merchandise is to him
-But the idea that he’s gonna get murdered in his sleep by his older brother was getting a tad too real
-Besides, Mammon is still his brother and if he has to sell a couple of items in order to make him less mad, he would do it, albeit with a bit of grumbling
-Despite that, Mammon still refuses to come out of his room and sort of relies on you to bring him food because he doesn’t want to see his brothers
-Levi and Mammon would probably have to rebuild a lot of their relationship after this but it could easily take months for that to happen since Levi is too terrified to look him in the eye and Mammon is too upset to even hear his voice
Satan:
-He wouldn’t be the Avatar of Wrath if he couldn’t spot the anger within someone from a mile away
-He’s always been able to recognise the fury building up inside of him so for Satan it’s second nature to just know when someone’s on the brink of snapping
-It’s no surprise to say that he probably noticed Mammon’s wrath spilling out before anyone else did
-But alas, he realised it too late
-If he had reacted quicker, maybe he would’ve been able to diffuse Mammon before he exploded on them. Or not
-It’s difficult to tell if he could’ve actually helped because who was he to tell Mammon to calm down??? If anyone told him that while he was throwing a fit, he would probably break their necks-
-In the end, he just pressed his lips into a straight line and watched his brother throw his chair across the room
-Not gonna lie, he found it a bit entertaining purely because of the look on Lucifer’s face
-Satan had to try really hard not to crack a smile because he knew Mammon would probably smash a glass against his head or something
-Even so, he was the first to stand up and offer to go after him, though he wasn’t sure he could do much consoling
-Being so experienced with anger meant that he knew Mammon had built himself into a rage that he won’t be able to escape out of too easily
-Which is why he advises Lucifer to give Mammon his space once they get home
-Overall, the most understanding out of all of the brothers
-At this point in time, probably the least judgemental out of everyone and once Mammon comes out of his room for the first time in a while, either him or Beel is going to apologise to him first
-He may push and push him alongside the rest of his siblings but I feel like Satan doesn’t want to reach a certain low, like cornering Mammon into the frenzy he had that day ever again
-He might get pissy with him if he’s being too stubborn to forgive anyone after coming down from his intrusive thoughts
-And he really hates that Mammon had to remind them about all the times you had nearly died because of them, because he knows they won’t be able to make it up to you so why is Mammon upset about this????
-But he will try to maintain respect for his older brother from then on
-Even if the sharpest of remarks is on the top of his tongue!
Asmo:
-Asmo is the type to laugh it off and then start feeling really upset about it later on, the longer he thinks about the whole thing
-After Mammon storms out, he just assumes it’s another one of those ‘Mammon’ things and tried to brush the feeling of unease off him
-Even so, later that night the memory of Mammon kept coming back to him while he laid in his bed, unable to have a nice rest for the first time in how long? He’s always been really strict about his sleeping schedules after all
-Asmo’s observant, almost on par with Satan himself when it comes down to it. He definitely saw the gleam of anger, pent up frustration and hatred in his brothers’ eyes that moment and it legitimately scared him, even if it was for just half a second
-Honestly, he begins neglecting himself out of anticipation and worry which is a huge red flag for the Avatar of Lust who always holds himself at such a superior level compared to everyone else
-It may start out slow, but it has the same effect as a snowball rolling down the hill. It becomes more of a problem the longer it’s ignored
-Because he spends most of his days now debating whether he should try to coax his brother into coming out of his room and apologising to him, he forgets about himself
-Skincare routines are missed, pedicure appointments have been cancelled; hell, if Mammon’s keeps being stubborn, he may let his hair become absolutely filthy
-Asmo sort of relies on his brothers to provide the living environment he revolves around. If something is off with his brothers, he can not work properly either because it doesn’t feel right to do so
-Imagine a machine not working anymore because one of the clogs in it got stuck
-I can see Asmo feeling a decent amount of guilt when it comes to the situation but he still blames Levi for completely pushing him over the edge at dinner
-So now those two aren’t talking (it’s honestly so exhausting since they’re shoving the blame onto each other without stop)
-If Mammon decides to come out and hear them out, Asmo might get on his knees and beg because that guilt bubbling up inside of him may end up being his demise
-No seriously, MC might need to keep an eye out on him too while comforting Mammon because whatever he is doing isn’t healthy
-Takes Mammon’s outburst pretty badly and tries apologising to him many times but the second eldest still hasn’t said a word to any of them
-And that’s driving him into a fucking swirl of insanity at this point
-Of course, much like Mammon’s mental breakdown, this builds up over time but the result can be devasting
-If you pass by his room at night, you could probably hear him sob about how his brother hates him and it’s really heartbreaking to hear pained cries like that coming from such an overly confident demon like Asmo
Beel:
-Literally the only one here that doesn’t dish out insults onto Mammon every hour of the day
-He joins in very rarely and even when he does, it’s usually in good nature rather than malice
-Unless food is involved. Feelings (and Mammon) might be hurt if that’s the case
-Beel wasn’t listening to his siblings as they were diminishing Mammon, he was way too hungry to comprehend what the hell they were on about
-So he just started wolfing down appetisers until he noticed you looking all weary
-That’s the first thing that put him on alert
-And then the second born’s aura was also...off putting
-Might’ve actually tried to nudge Belphie to stop him from saying anything offensive to Mammon in this state when he realised how tense the atmosphere got
-Flinched when his brother left the palace, almost cracking the whole doorway on his way out
-Hunger is all but gone and at this point he wants to go home to check up on him
-Beel is a bit of a softie and he wears his heart on his sleeve a lot of the times
-He never did anything particularly bad to Mammon, not on the same scale his brothers did certainly and yet he still felt extremely bad
-Perhaps because he didn’t step in as much as he should’ve...?
-Either way, when his loved ones suffer, he has a tendency of putting the blame on himself because he feels it’s the only logical answer
-Honestly, he feels guilty enough to the point where it’s affecting his eating habits-which is obviously not normal for the Avatar of Gluttony
-Beel knows Mammon doesn’t want to talk to him but he still brings him food and leaves it at the doorstep of his room since he doesn’t want to come out and have dinner with them
-Or he relies on you to give it to him
-The thought of Mammon being so mad at them that he doesn’t even want to eat makes him feel so vulnerable
-As soon as he sees him for the first time since that night, he will probably be the first to apologise, even if Mammon isn’t in the mood to hear apologies
-Again, he’s trying to use food to make up to him (bringing him his favourites and paying for them)
-Even if he gets ignored, he’s still going to do it
-Beel is trying his best to say sorry to his older brother the only way he knows how to do so, but Mammon still doesn’t give in
Belphie:
-Could’ve been asleep the whole time Mammon was thrashing about
-Or at least that’s what it looked like to the average passer-by
-Kept one eye open to watch as Mammon finally snapped under pressure, having to raise his head once his brother broke the whole god damned table
-“OK, alright, storm off I guess-I have a splinter now-“
-Don’t trust that sarcastic commentary, he’s in deep thought on the inside
-Maybe he should’ve expected this but then again, he never would’ve guessed Mammon had it in him to be so aggressive
-Will narrow his eyes at him when he talks your death and scowl
-As if he didn’t already feel like the world’s biggest piece of shit, he had to bring that up
-As soon as he leaves, he turns to Lucifer and goes “See what you did? You broke Mammon. You suck, Lucifer.”
-The shifting of blame suits Belphie really well (it takes Beel side glancing him to get him to shut up)
-The Avatar of Sloth is too tired to even try to communicate with his brother so he goes straight to bed after getting home
-However, he actually visits Mammon’s dreams that night
-Or at least tries to, if Mammon is getting any sleep after that showdown
-It’s his way of checking in with his brother, helps him evaluate the situation
- Whether that works or not, there was definitely an attempt that required a lot of effort and you don’t see that very often with Belphagour
-It really demonstrates how much he actually cares for his family, even if he hides behind snide remarks and the likes of it
-However, if Mammon refuses communication, then he can’t do anything but give up
-He clearly won’t be able to convince him to step aside for a chit chat and why waste energy trying to force him to do so
-When the time comes, Belphie knows his brother will willingly talk to him (or at least someone else because he knows he’s not any good at comfort or apologies)
-At the same time, a lot of the things Mammon said during that party rubbed him the wrong way and seeing his twin suffer because of it is also pissing him off so patience may be running thin with Belphie
-Like Levi, there may be a lot of ice between the two from then onwards so it won’t be easy for them to find the middle ground in this whole argument either
-It could lead to a strained relationship if no one intervenes or even a physical fight if the youngest pushes all of Mammon’s buttons properly
Diavolo:
-The Future King feels guilty too, for some reason
-He is clearly not involved but he’s under the impression his party was a catalyst of sorts to the fight that broke out that night
-Diavolo wasn’t even in the same room when it happened-he heard shouting and growling from next door whilst talking to a noble about future arrangements in DevilDom and rushed in
-The sight was something to behold really; Mammon cornering all of his brothers and threatening them with pure venom in his voice wasn’t something you saw everyday
-More often than not, it was the other way around so the Prince had every right to be concerned
-He tried asking Lucifer what was going on after the second eldest slammed the door shut behind him and left but to no avail; the Avatar of Pride was in a state of shock and the only thing he did was apologise to him about a million times before his departure with the rest of his siblings
-Despite his worry, Diavolo tried not to get involved in the aftermath either, believing it’s not his place to interfere and hoping they would solve it out amongst themselves
-He did give Mammon permission to miss RAD classes for that week, thinking a small break is what he needed most
-Even drops by every now and then to check up on him (he just asks you how he’s holding up because he doesn’t want to pry)
-He can’t do much but watch from the sidelines, I mean this is a family dispute so it would be wise to just give them all a bit of space
-If it drags on for too long, however, he will be forced to do something because the brothers are all distracted and can’t get on with their student council work because of it
-Lucifer is even more stressed than usual and can’t even focus during their meetings so for the sake of his friend, if nothing gets resolved quickly, he will intervene and it won’t be pretty
-For now, he’s counting on you to make sure there are no further incidents but it’s unlikely you can stop a train once it’s set in motion so just hope Mammon doesn’t come out of his room until he’s calmed down
Barbatos:
-The butler is a Time Lord so it’s probably no surprise to find out he already knew this was going to happen eventually
-Not like he believed Mammon was going to take his brothers’ insults for much longer anyway
-Being the quiet and observant demon he is, he’s been keeping a close eye on the Avatar of Greed knowing damn well he was going to lose his patience soon enough and go on the offence
-If he knew this was going to happen at such an important moment in time, he would’ve warned his majesty beforehand but he failed to see the potential catastrophe awaiting his breakdown
-Again, he has no right to intervene
-Unless, of course, Lord Diavolo asks him to do so but really the most he can do is give you tips on how to deal with miserable demons
-I mean, you’re the one that’s going to be stuck with them for the rest of the year and this isn’t the type of conflict that gets resolved too easily
-Barbatos is clever so if there is still bitterness between Mammon and his siblings after an amount of time passed, he might try to change timelines (with the permission of Diavolo)
-He’s had enough of Beel coming over to eat his cakes and cry about his older brother hating him (believe it or not, the butler is definitely a bit fond of the sixth eldest so his cries did pull at his heartstrings)
-Basically, in the same position as the Prince
-He relies on you to get them all to make up but he knows it’s not likely to happen any time soon
-For now, he’s getting ready for the chain reaction this fight set in motion because there was no easy way to end this, considering they’re all vicious demons and all
—————————————————————-
Al~ im mad I couldn’t add Simon, Luke and Solomon-I want to write for them too >:(
1K notes · View notes
ceruleanchillin · 3 years
Text
When You're At The Function F***in It UP And Your Man Walks In (Mayans)
Warnings: Implied sexual content, language, fighting
Characters: Angel, Coco, & EZ
A:
You’re on thin ice as it is sis. The little forest-green dress with the the deep plunge front and slit sides, the one that ended up purchased after your friends hyped you into it. That’s supposed to be in the trash according to one Angel Reyes. That, or reserved for private nights in.
Currently, it was wrapped around your form, helping you grab envious/admiring glances from around the room.
Your hips twisted to the layered bass, using the random behind you for stability. Your friend next to you cheered you on, her inner hype man on full display. There’s a breakdown in the song, and you lose yourself in the rhythm. Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice telling you “Superstar mama, say hi for the gram!”.
Your eyes zone in on Gilly, eyes wide. Everyone knew the Mayans rolled deep when they went anywhere. Where there was one, there was the rest. Especially when it came to the three musketeers and their wrangler, EZ.
Like you were busted sneaking back into your room as a teen, you froze. You narrowed your eyes at your friend who shrugged and mouthed sorry before disappearing.
“Gilly fuck off!” You hissed, moving away from the random. Your eyes scanning the crowded den.
Gilly laughed, tucking his phone into his kutte. “Ayy, don’t get mad at me,” he fluttered his eyelashes and fake coughed into his hand. “I don’t feel so good baby, I’m just gonna stay in tonight.”
You narrowed your eyes at his high-pitched mimicry of your last conversation with Angel.
He wasn’t even supposed to be there. Your friend swore she nixed all Mayan related invites, just for that night, on your behalf. All you wanted was to be able to turn up like you did pre-relationship. Normally you could at clubhouse parties since Angel trusted everyone there with his life. Any party outside of that was a gamble, and Angel could referee like he got a check for it.
Your eyes finally met said man’s across the party and a chill and went down your spine. Angel was propped against the wall across the way, eyes on you.
The rest of party fell away as you made your way over to him, schooling your features into your ‘what did I do daddy?’ pout.
“Nah, don’t come over with that lip poking now.” He shook his head, speaking when you were in range of him.
“And what are you doing wearing this fucking pillowcase out here? What did we talk about?” He pinched the thin strings of your dress.
“Nooo, don’t be mad. I was walking through my closet and it fell on me. Besides, you liked it when I modeled it for you.”
Angel scoffed, refusing to even entertain your comments. Coco chuckled from his spot next to his friend as he lit a cigarette.
“I thought you had club shit, I didn’t even know you’d be here.” You cringed as soon as the words left your lips, the shots you’d taken earlier still putting in work.
“I didn’t know you’d be here either. I thought you were sick. There’s some soup in the car that thought it was getting dropped off. Apparently wrong thoughts is the theme of the night.”
Petty by Angel Reyes.
“Soup? Baby, that’s so sweet.” You tried to pet his cheeks, but he was keeping you at bay.
“You aren’t even sick! Imma give that shit to Gilly.”
“Nooo.” You whined again, still trying to get him to let you touch him in some way.
“Get that bitch you were dancing with to buy you soup.” It was his turn to pout, but there was fire in his eyes as he tracked the guy you’d been dancing with. “It’s all he’s gonna be able to fucking eat in a minute anyways.”
“Sorry I blew up your spot ma, I just wanted to see my plug and get out.” Coco opened the palm of his hand not holding the cigarette and revealed a small bag of weed.
Angel snapped his head towards him, expression incredulous. “Don’t apologize to her, she lied to her man! She gave some puto hope! Get on code!”
“I love you hermano, but this is your guard dog-ass fault.” He pointedly ignored his friend’s heated glare as a girl in the doorway caught his interest, slipping away when she positively returned his gaze.
Angel’s attention was claimed by you once again when you pulled his head down towards you. You smothered his cheeks in kisses, to which he was physically unresponsive.
“I don’t know if I want you kissing on me querida.”
You rolled your eyes. Petty or not, everyone knew Angel’s life force depleted the longer he went without touching you. Even in your tipsy state you could see his fingers literally twitched with the need to take their rightful place on your hips.
“I just wanted to dance like I used to, and you don’t dance. Then you beat down guys who want to. You left me no choice, so let me have kisses.” You locked your arms around his waist, successfully avoiding his half-hearted attempts to push you away.
He scrunched up his face. “How the fuck am I catching strays in this situation? I’m the victim!”
“I’ll make it up to you later if you stop being a hatin’ wallflower and let me grind on you.” Your hips found the rhythm of the slow wind song thumping through the room.
His hands encircled your throat, drawing you closer to his person. Your pupils blew at his darkened expression, your lower half squirming with interest. He pressed his lips to yours, and the party faded to nothing again. His fingers flexed around your throat before closing just enough for him to draw the subtlest gasp from you. He felt it more than heard it over the noise, but it was enough.
He pulled away, licking his lips as you tried to remember where you were and if sin always tasted so good.
“You’ll make it up to me right now in the traitor’s car.” he held up keys you recognized to be Coco’s.
You started to protest on principle, but your body was going through withdrawals from a lite touch (for Angel). He could see the wheels turning, but you were letting him lead you out of the room, palm openly covering your ass.
“Who are you texting?” You asked, more annoyed with how his hands were no longer possessively roaming your body than a real answer.
He quickly pocketed his phone and returned his hands to you. “No one baby.” definitely not telling his boys via group chat to handle the random for him. “Stop worrying about anything other than how you’re gonna get around at work tomorrow.”
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C:
It was bad enough you couldn’t make it to New Orleans due to work, and Old Lady “responsibilities”, but this petty fight you were in with Coco was the kicker. You couldn’t even remember how it started, but it escalated back and forth until you weren’t speaking and were back staying at your apartment.
Poor Letty had been reduced to messenger girl, especially now that she had a car. A tug of war with your point being “she was my girl first, that’s how we met” and his point being “she’s my kid, blood first ma” had broken out. You didn’t know what was going to wear through its welcome first, your lack of Coco, or Letty’s patience, but they were competing. It wasn’t like Coco was doing any better if your daily updates from Letty were any indication. He was impatient, tense, chain smoking, and was getting closer and closer to going through with the apology call he was openly fighting.
It wouldn’t be long before you were back to getting your back arched out of shape if that was anything to go by. Not a moment too soon if your own miserable habits were anything to go by. You wanted to use the party to distract yourself, hoping Coco would break first the following day. If not, it was sure to be you.
You spent the whole day throwing your frustrations into decorating your best friend’s backyard. It looked like the French Quarter threw up its best years, but it was the perfect backdrop to lose yourself to some bounce music.
Normally, you could goad Coco into being your twerking post, and that resistance (plus his turned on bi-lingual hypeman compliments in your ear) was everything missing at the moment.
You pouted and weaved your way out of the crowd to your friend who was busy playing good hostess.
“Ah ah, no whining. If you wanna really make it Mardi Gras, shake your ass on a dude.”
You narrowed your eyes, annoyed she shut down and solved your problem before you could whine about it. “Coco hates that shit! Plus he’s spoiled me, it won’t even be the same.”
“Coco isn’t here, and it doesn’t have to be the same, it just has to do.” She turned away from where she’d filled two shot glasses for the two of you. “Besides, we both know your ass is gonna be all in his neck crying about how you miss him tomorrow. Do your thing before you go out sad.”
She clinked shot glasses with you, pleased at her accurate assessment and your sourpuss face.
“Fuck you.” You laughed, voice rough from the burn of the shot.
“Save that for Coco.” She smacked your ass, draped one of the many beaded necklaces hanging off her shoulder around your neck, and sent you on your way back to the crowd of writhing bodies.
It was nothing to find dudes to grind on, and you fell into the synergy. You couldn’t count how many fast paced songs you’d thrown it back to, or how many guys you’d danced with. The stack of beads you’d acquired gave some idea though.
Meanwhile, Coco’s skin was alive with the kind of anger he felt. He’d been seriously contemplating coming to your place and forcing out admissions of how his life wasn’t right without you in it. He couldn’t remember who or what started it, but it didn’t even matter when your scent was starting to fade from his pillow, and his touch starvation was acting up.
All of that went careening out the window when he stumbled upon a pouty Letty, huffing and sucking her teeth at her phone. Turns out you, and “everyone in the goddamn world but me” according to Letty, were at your friend’s blowout Mardi Gras party. Coco knew it was your favorite holiday, but it was news to him that you had any plans since you couldn’t officially go this year. News he didn’t welcome at all, since all of the videos he saw you in you were throwing (his) your ass on multiple dudes. Did you think he wouldn’t fight everyone???
He was already on his bike before he’d even registered leaving the house. He sent a quick summoning call in his boy’s group chat, your friend’s address the destination.
The party was louder and wilder than the videos let on. He’d already spotted his boys by their kuttes, mingling in their respective ways, but didn’t seek them out. They’d find him if he needed them to. Coco on the other hand, needed to find you.
His eagle eyes picked apart the crowd until he spotted you twisting yourself to the rhythm. Coco didn’t know whether to shoot the asshole behind you, or take you away to deal with the feelings you were bringing out of him.
You knew he loved when you brought the South to the West Coast with your hips and ass.
He charged into your space, his hands immediately going for the guy’s arm and snatching him towards him.
“Make a choice cabrón. Get the fuck out, or be an expensive bill and sad memory for your moms by morning.” He pressed his kutte to his person, emphasizing that he was strapped.
The guy raised his palms and quickly exited the scene. Unwilling to test what clearly was a warning that Coco would happily make good on.
You tugged on him, trying to get him to move away from the crowd. Scanning those around you to see who saw or heard, you noticed more than you would’ve liked. They wouldn’t make a fuss, noting his kutte, but still.
“Stop it. What are you even doing here?” You hissed, tugging his arm harshly for his attention.
He turned his gaze, wild with adrenaline and arrogance at his victory, on you. “You should’ve stopped yourself before throwing it back on random fuckers for the internet. This is on you.”
“No, this is on you. If you hadn’t done what you did or said what you said…”. You trailed off remembering that you couldn’t recall what had happened, just the frustration.
“What did I say or do (y/n)?” He noted your visible annoyance that he’d chosen to use your real name instead of a pet name, and with a smirk, he walked you backwards until your back gently hit the fence.
Between not recalling what started the fight, and your man looking amazing, you settled on a pathetic. “You remember.”
“No I don’t, and neither do you.” that familiar prickle of intensity sparked between the two of you.
Everything between you and Coco felt like a live wire dancing back and forth. High energy moments usually ended in either great sex, or separation (sometimes by the force of your friends) to let things cool down.
“I know you’re gonna catch a case if you keep moving like that Johnny. Is that what you want?”
“Nah mujer, that ain’t what I want. I want you home where you belong, but you’re out here playing me instead.” Slender fingers tugged sharply at a few of the beaded necklaces in your stack.
You sucked your teeth and turned your head, ignoring the warm cheeks and butterflies in your stomach at his on-brand admission of missing you.
He placed a hand on the fence next to your head, grasping your chin to turn your attention back to him.
“You’re being a drama queen. I thought I was talking to Angel for a second.”
He threw his head back as laughed, and you got an almost overwhelming urge to kiss him. Or at least bury your fingers in his soft curls, they were begging for it at this po-
“Fuck that, he’s still got me beat. Wait til you see the tantrum he’s saving for you for not getting invited tonight.”
“He was, I just told her to can it because of you. He should be mad at you.” You pouted, but your tone was teasing.
“I could put in a good word for you…you know, if you’re done being petty.” He leaned in, running his lips over the shell of your ear.
“Or I could just offer to throw it back on him to make him forget.”
It was your turn to laugh when Coco tensed, and pulled back from where he’d been teasing you with light touches. You didn’t love him no longer touching you, but faltering him made it almost worth it.
“Or you could take me home and we could both forget…” you clutched at his kutte, leaning into him.
He pulled your hands away by your wrists, his thumbs rubbing over your pulse points.
“Nah, if dancing is this fucking important to you, come on then.” He pulled you after him.
“Cocooo,” you whined, more interested in getting him to touch you again. “Take me home already.”
“My lady wants to dance.” He sat on the outdoor wicker couch and patted his lap. “So dance.”
You stood there in confusion for a second, before what he meant became clear. “I’m not doing that here!”
“You didn’t have an issue earlier, move those hips ma.” He looked between you and his lap again.
Could’ve been the way he was biting his lip, or the laid back way he rested against the couch, but that coupled with lack of access to him, had affirmative words running through your mind.
You playfully rolled your eyes, faking like his request was that expensive. “Only because I want to get you home, and I know you’ll never quit whining if I don’t.”
You slipped onto his lap, the action already drawing attention from partygoers just for the potential of what was to come.
He grasped your hips to still you before you started to move, his palm pressing you back to him by your throat. “And don’t half-ass it yeah…or I might do the same when I get you home.”
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E:
It wasn’t until Creeper hit his shoulder and informed him of how hard he was smiling that EZ realized his cheeks ached. He couldn’t help it, he loved watching you dance more than anything.
As soon as you heard a melody you liked, you came alive to it, and stole everyone’s attention. You could find the beat on anything.
That wasn’t his sole reason for cheesing so hard though. Tonight had been the first night you brought your closest friends around the club, and he knew it took great trust in him, his brothers, and your relationship to do that. Your family was on the East Coast, so your friends filled that role for you. Coupled with EZ, they were your world and he thanked you everyday for letting him in.
“Gonna stop calling you boy scout if you keep enjoying the show this much.” Creeper took the seat across from him, half blocking his view.
“Oh you didn’t know how EZ gets down?” Angel’s lips formed that mischievous grin, his eyes taking on the same glint. “You should’ve seen him begging me for tales from Angel’s crib.”
“She and her girls look good out there. Might be too much for you junior.”
EZ rolled his eyes at the ribbing from his brothers, his grin still intact. “At some point I’m gonna be patched, I’m happy to make a cage date for that day. Pretty sure I can take both of you.
Creeper and Angel exchanged exaggerated incredulous expressions.
“See what happens when you go easy on the help?” Angel scoffed. “You sound like you’re hurtin’ for work prospect.”
“Could use some more water.” Creeper shook his water bottle at him, just barely missing splashing him.
EZ rose from his seat, empty beer bottle in hand. “Just remember that day is coming.”
Angel and Creeper laughed raucously at that.
“Don’t get your ass beat in front of your woman lil bro!”
EZ shook his head, choosing to ignore his dumbass older brother. and tossed his bottle in the trash. Slipping through the moving bodies until he was near you, he gently patted your friend who nodded and stepped from behind you.
You jumped, surprised at his sudden appearance, but settled back against him.
“Hey baby.” You gently encouraged him to follow the sway of your hips as he placed his head on your shoulder.
“Hey. I’m back on the slave clock, you want anything?”
You turned to him, his arms instinctively encircling your waist. “Hard tea please.”
“I gotta go to the trailer for that, and get the variety hour table over there a drink. I’ll try to be quick.”
“Don’t rush, but remember, you owe me a dance.” You cupped his cheeks and pressed a kiss to his lips.
He grinned goofily, his attention solely yours until he felt your girls draping themselves over him.
“Can you get us some too Zeke? Thanks.” “Preciate it Z.”
You giggled pushing them off him, but you knew he didn’t mind. You guys were a package deal and he’d take whatever you came with. At least their requests came with pleasantries.
“Sure ladies, not a problem. Don’t let anyone take her while I’m gone.”
They laughed, giving affirmative replies while you rolled your eyes pushed him towards the side door.
Once he began his drink fulfillment quest, it was like every brother wanted something from him. It was a full house that night and he should’ve known once he was no longer under Angel’s break protection, he was back to errand boy status.
Every task he completed was met with teasing about how his rushed pace clearly pointed to him wanting to get back to you. He didn’t argue the fact, just moved faster every time you were mentioned.
Finally, he was able to to focus on your request when he stopped being flagged down.
He was heading to the trailer when one of your friends stopped him.
“One of the other charter’s guys is annoying our girl. She doesn’t wanna make a fuss cause’..you know.” She gestured to his vest to signify his prospect status. “But I know she’s not feeling it.”
He could feel the the muscles in his jaw flex in anger, feet carrying him across the crowded yard. People moved before he could plow through them, which was just as well, because he wasn’t fully in control at that point, and didn’t think he could slow down enough to sidestep them.
The clubhouse had filled considerably since his absence. He scanned the room for you, finding you in a crowd of moving bodies. Your friend was right, you had a good poker face, but your man knew you.
He didn’t waste time physically separating you from the Yuma patch member. He gently put you behind his person, feeling your small hands press against his back through his vest.
“I’m good baby. He agreed this was the last dance.” Your voice belied your annoyance despite your words.
“I’m guessing he said that more than once.”
“I don’t mind, I know clu-“
Yuma interrupted you. “See, she doesn’t mind. Go find something to do with yourself prospect.”
“I’ve got a project in mind.” EZ pushed you back a little more to give himself room to work with.
“Be smart bare vest.” Yuma smirked, his eyes saying how much he’d love for EZ to make the mistake he was thinking about.
In the span of the next few seconds, Yuma’s vest and shirt was covered in beer and Coco had appeared at the same time. If the obvious way he was holding the bottle didn’t give away he did it on purpose, his dry “my bad” and shrug did.
Yuma swung on Coco who anticipated it and dodged it, before firing back with a successful punch of his own. A sea of Mayans of mixed charter filled the space and EZ quickly pushed you behind the bar before he lost you in the shuffle.
Understanding what Coco had done, he got in the middle to give the Yuma patch what he’d been asking for while he was covered by the chaos.
It didn’t last long before the presidents stepped in, but it didn’t have to. He was happy to take the few licks he’d received, because he was pretty sure he’d broken Yuma patch’s nose, and would get away with it.
His brother’s words against theirs, and the presidents didn’t feel the need to make it a drawn out issue. He pretended to have played bouncer instead of active participant, and it all ended with a basic chewing out.
His only thoughts were of you once his rage had subsided, and he could think clearly again. Had he scared off you and your friends? Embarrassed you?
He was happy to find that hadn’t. Your friends couldn’t help but fawn over him and how “perfect for you” he was. He especially enjoyed reveling in the jealousy of Coco, Angel, Gilly, and Creeper. Coco slightly less salty when he got praise for his efforts.
He got his admiration from you later when you patched him up in the trailer, soft voice telling him how sexy he looked to you, and how you appreciated him thinking of you in his position. You held his face and gently went over everything you could find, while he said on his makeshift bed content to let you.
He couldn’t stop grinning, the one that always got him mercilessly mocked because it was now associated with him thinking of you.
“Seriously EZ,” you dabbed at the final cut you hadn’t attended to. “Thank you.”
“I want you to feel safe with me, it’s only fair if you can accept all this shit.”
You grinned down at him, hair framing your face, and he had to remind himself to breathe at the sight. “I do, all the time.”
He cupped the side of your face, unwilling to fight the urge to kiss you any longer.
You laughed speaking between kisses. “I’m not done.”
“It’s ok, I’m good.” He chased your lips, unashamed to want you so badly.
“Ok,” you returned his kisses, your fingers dancing down the nape of his neck. “But I’d like to cash in that dance you owe me…you know, before we get too busy.”
He rose to full height, hands finding both of yours. “I can do that.”
AN:
I don’t speak Spanish, so if I made a mistake feel free to hop in my messages and let me know and how to fix it please. You’re more than welcome to.
1.) I remember seeing a meme vid about this years ago, and finding it hilarious. I could see this happening with these dudes and their personalities. That, and I just really wanted a lil southern culture in a Mayans drabble. 🤷🏾‍♀️
2.) I did a rewatch of the whole series (including the original), and I’m back on the obsession train. Just tryna to be happy before S4 kicks my shit in.
3.) I kept telling myself I wouldn’t end up writing for these fools and here I am in my Ringling Bros. best🤡.
651 notes · View notes
sugar-petals · 3 years
Text
♡ physical affection; levi
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↳ NOTE. characterizing boyfriend levi, my passion project lmao! with some sexy moments included 👀
WORDS. ⇢ 7k
tags / warnings. ⚠️ smut, fluff, soft sub!levi x female reader, hurt/comfort hc, angst, shower sex, blowjobs + handjobs + boobjobs (yep. spoiling the captain), face-sitting, protected sex, soap kink, season 3-4 setting, no manga spoilers
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Ready for a surprise? It’s not really about what kind of skinship he’s extremely selective about and what not. This is only something people would perceive about him at first glance. Instead, it comes down to how emotionally sheltered he feels. Because of his experiences, that predicates everything else. Which is why Levi’s sexuality is as complex as it is.
But also, in its sudden perfect expression once a person gives him a different perspective: That’s the time when he is touchier. The more in private, the better. The lights down low, with only a candle or two shining from another room. Broad daylight brings the harsh truths and the shaking ground. Nighttime is when Levi feels more intimate and open to caress, down his back and arms, the shoulders, the side of his neck. Done with extreme gentleness, and all of your deep respect.
If you offer him an environment of trust, Levi is open to almost anything and would even magically doze off in your arms for a little while. Breathing softly, resting for the first time in weeks, the brows becoming less tense the deeper he sleeps. You asking if you can stroke his hair (carefully, not messing it up or anything) is something he can’t say no to. The closet romantic in him will fulfill you any reasonable wish as soon as you’d ask anyway.
We know how receptive the captain is to a request, and how much there can be a soft spot for somebody in his heart. If you’re forward enough to just ask, Levi sets himself that goal and opens up. He is diligent with it just as you’d expect. That especially includes the things he says are „absolute horseshit nonsense“ and „disgusting, useless activities“ when reacting to newly formed couples kissing in the survey corps at the other end of the room. Is he a hypocrite and a hater? Actually— not at all.
Levi is a raised rather than born skeptic. Between courage and care, he is always gonna be torn. Both didn’t work in his favor at some point. But at the end of the day, he fears recklessness more than being cautious. Looking at these couples, he knows that they could lose each other the very next day. Or hell, the next hour. Not everybody has 200 titan kills. 
Not everybody is a physically indestructible Ackerman destined and designed to escape death and outlive others whether they want it or not. And showing themselves this vulnerable out in the open is even more dangerous considering all the political intrigues, chaos, attacks, and espionage going on.
When he’s scoffing at skinship in the survey corps, it’s not his intent to ruin the couples and their little happiness in the present moment (nothing he sees as more tragically precious), or say only he can have a relationship because he’s strong enough to make it survive. If anything, Levi is the prime example of how all his connections were doomed exactly because of his status pulling in all the danger. He very well and painfully knows.
What I mean is: He sees the brutality of consequences that can create more misery than if two people would just go about their business. Levi already dreads that the same might happen to him. But after all, the behavior of others is easier to rectify than his own undeniable feelings for you. Which he cannot control in any way, which is why he reacts to others instead. Looking at other people holding hands, he’s also afraid how dabbling in love is a distraction from threats that can even backfire on uninvolved others if someone is suddenly in harm’s way.
Levi does associate physical touch with something that takes an otherwise observing mind off when it shouldn’t be. To him, it creates something so valuable that can become an unintended burden through all kinds of circumstances, he’s seen it all, it’s terrible he had to. And the reason why he has such a torn relationship with it. You really have to know your stuff to build a resilient little bubble where Levi is not constantly hypervigilant and either past- or future-focused.
Which is pretty damn hardwired into him. It’s almost impossible to bring on that kind of atmosphere spontaneously. It has to be ritualized. His intelligence comes with the downside of overthinking and having problems with spontaneous romance, it’s good to direct his thought into something that’s always done in a specific, structured way. You sit down with tea, put the candles on, Levi finishes cleaning his weapons, makes everything combat-ready and usable in seconds, and you carefully lay down on his impeccably made bed together.
Which he never uses, Levi sleeps in chairs. Or on the ground, so he can feel any titan steps in the distance with his whole body, using the cleanest possible mat or towel as a mattress and nothing else. The bed he basically just makes to have it neat, and for you, and to have a spot to lay together. 
But yeah. He will never remove his harness. Not even when you’re sleeping with each other. He’s not once gonna risk having to put it on in a hurry. The only time you will be skin to skin with him is for not even five minutes under the shower. It’s when his cleanliness beats his anxiety around being always ready, which is why that’s a time to fully cherish.
And then, he really has no qualms about you wrapping your hands around his soap-covered torso in the shower anyway. It’s the only time his inner default germaphobe is not vehemently screaming inside his already heavy heart. It doesn’t have anything to do with you, this is about his demons only, confronted with the immense relief you give him. If the latter wins over his mind’s struggle, Levi might draw out the shower time sometimes.
The other voice that tells him ‚don’t make it end so soon’ is now finally convincing him. He will dial down the water stream so he can hear what’s going on outside better to compensate, to know if there’s any ruckus or approaching hazards. Levi has instructed a fast runner among the cadets to bang on the front door under any critical circumstances immediately in the first place.
Levi says he wants to save water, too. He won’t admit it, but he also turns the showerhead to a medium pressure to hear your calm, almost-quiet moans — the barracks have terribly thin walls — better when you’re sucking him off. Slowly, smoothly, not too much spit. Folded towel under your knees because Levi insists, and he is right. The showers in the survey corps have uncomfortable floor tiles. 
He makes sure you won’t get soap in your mouth as well, I don’t have to tell you that he is very circumspect. Levi isn’t usually feeling overly heated in moments like this, but he gets hard and releases fast. You swear his cum tastes like afternoon tea with milk but you won’t tell him that. And who doesn’t like tea and Levi’s homemade milk, no complaints alright.
What’s still a shame is that Levi, always being in such a constant hurry and alertness, puts too much stress on his body for him to become horny all the way. In fact, he often forgets it. He feels numb, and can’t fully take in the sensations. Levi has not been able to feel a lot of genuine pleasure in his life. 
A racing mind is an absolute sex killer, and his adrenaline spikes are so high in combat that most normal things don’t do anything for him. Which is why he brews his tea extra strong. But seriously: It’s a concerning thing. And it tells you to take your time. With his whole body, doing the things he loves the most. And what else could that be? It’s straightforward: Keepin’ it clean.
You make sure that Levi feels extra comfortable by thoroughly massaging his loins and thighs with a sponge during foreplay. Yes, you’re gently working him up. All in circles and light brushing motions. Lots of soap. Suave and bubbly, like silk on his skin. It’s handmade, with oat milk, lavender, and honey. For your honey. You regularly gift a new one to him to try out scents and have supply. You can guess how much Levi appreciates it, to the moon and back in fact. The present box is neatly stored on his office table where he can always see it.
Sending out its balmy fragrance throughout the day, making the room smell amazingly aromatic to him. His nose will never grow tired or accustomed to it. Levi puts the soapbox in a drawer within literal split seconds when someone who isn’t you enters the room. „Tsk, announce yourself when you knock…“ That could even be the newest recruit who doesn’t know anything at all about the place and people. But this is just a you and him thing.
Levi doesn’t want nosy questions from the squad even though nobody would probably even notice the soap laying there in its case, much less ask him about it or the fresh scent in the air because duh, it’s Levi’s office. But it feels absolutely personal for him — so he reacts sensitively about it. This man would probably protect your lavender soap with his blades if he had to. 
The captain is very secretive about your relationship in general. Who on earth would go as far as buy him a new scented bar of joy bi-weekly? At this point, he would crawl on hot coals, needles, lava, ice shards, desert sand, and a mile-long straight of legos (laid out by a maniacally laughing Zeke personally) for you.
Although you wouldn’t allow any of it. Nothing should ever hurt those kitty paws, I mean captain hands and captain feet. You’d put Zeke on blast on your own, luring him with a banana to confuse his senses and then, whack, homerun the monkey into the ocean with Levi’s bristle broom. Problem solved. Anyway.
 Levi wouldn’t hurt himself willingly that way either, the ice shards don’t stand a chance. He has sworn to protect his own life out of self-respect, to honor those passed by living on bravely toward the goal they worked for and being the one always coming home to you. You can rely on him.
So enough about gleaming hot coals and Zeke’s evil legos, back to the point — you already get what I mean. Levi might seem totally grumpy on the outside, but for sure is a devoted man, a caliber as always. He takes all of your presents to heart and is unbelieving as to why he’d be deserving of so much. You prove a point using the gifts as regularly as possible on his body. Where he can feel every bit of your fondness of him. And remember it with muscle memory. Oh shit, this soap does smell so good. As anything on him, who are we kidding.
Dousing Levi with all your attention is the best thing ever. He feels great relaxing with you, and his face softens up. He’s looking at you with a tiny smile in response to you whispering sweet things to him, all while you’re using the sponge on his legs, the chest, and ever-tense back that can definitely use some alleviation. „Thank you for cleaning me“ has got to be the best thing ever to hear from Levi Ackerman. It means the entire world to him. Captain, your mommy kink is showing. His arousal increasing is a natural side effect in no time.
Recently, you’ve been slipping his cock between your breasts as well, and it’s been slowing him down a lot after an eventful mission. While at the same time making him more in the moment, he really enjoys you gradually lathering him up like that. The feeling of skin on skin is amazing. It might be something that… often crosses his mind when he trains during the day, but he can blend it out for the important things. Until you do it all over again, and he ruminates about how much you turn him on until the sun rises.
You also never do a blowjob hands-free. Why would you, anyway? His body is amazingly buff and compact, you want to hold onto those gorgeous lil’ hips and his own hands that need a fair share of holding after carrying the world. You feel him twitching on your tongue when you run either hand over his ass and abs, making sure to trace across all his most erogenous spots there. What’s more: Levi feels really protected and soothed when he feels your palms on him under the streaming water, he can’t explain it.
That's why you like doing shower handjobs just as much. I don’t have to tell you that Levi really delights in them as well and his poker face regularly cracks a bit. His eyes fixate on you, you can tell the connection and involvement. He thinks your fingertips are heavenly, a welcome change to his rugged days. 
He loves how softly they tease and stimulate him with the smallest movements and subtle presses. Yes, Levi doesn’t like rough action, those are vulnerable moments. He has enough brutality elsewhere, violently jerking him off and insulting him would be entirely inappropriate and even scare him.
He’d probably brush your wrists off right away, it’d be so uncomfortable in the silence of the evening. A tender chain of kisses on the nose tip, chin, collar bone, and especially forehead gets him going a lot more. The more chaste and doting the kiss, the more he melts on the inside. 
His anxiety baseline goes down, and he feels like he can let you in. However you guide him and however you choose to indulge him with your lips, Levi is on board, quietly enjoying. Since it’s something that he’s still feeling so new to, leaving you the active role comes naturally.
Stroking him with a deep pace, carefully brushing your lips against his to give him goosebumps — Levi definitely grows into that. In those moments, he really feels taken care of, in safe hands, hands that will stay with him. He’s gonna be surprised just how good something like this feels many times. And be overwhelmed by pleasure to the point where it almost frightens him, he didn’t have that a lot until now.
The satisfaction of a spotless table simply does not compare. Just so you know: He will either be dead silent or mumble under his breath nonstop. That he is okay with you touching him below the belt and even take him in your mouth tells you how much Levi trusts you, how much he knows you love him, and how meticulously he’s already scrubbed and shaved himself beforehand. Yes, the sheer preparation. He puts a lot of work into his body. He couldn’t stand you becoming dirty.
That’s also why the shower is the place oral goes down. And even there, he uses like ten cleaning products to double rinse the stall and himself before and after. Mind you. He sees you eating healthy, brushing your teeth well. Your lips are very beautiful and a masterpiece of nature to him. So it’s not you who he thinks is dirty. Levi is pretty damn paranoid about his own skin and hygiene. If only he would think about himself the way he thinks of your body.
He feels like he has to earn it, be acceptable, and prepare himself endlessly to enjoy touch. Even then, he thinks he must be ugly and revolting. You have to respect him fussing about it rather than forcing him to cut down on his routines. You don’t criticize his perfectionism and see the motivation behind it. So instead, you reassure Levi your own way.
The more he sees you having fun and enjoying his body, the more accepted, confident, and clean he feels. Most people would like to see their partner play up the enthusiasm obviously (unless you have a ‚hiding his amazement’ emo boy kink, which is exactly why you like Levi don’t cha), but it’s particularly meaningful to Levi. Guess why he looks up to Armin’s mentality, and Hange is one of the few people who truly vibe with Levi.
She’s easily amused, dedicated, swooning, excited, and constantly eager. Levi does appreciate a bit of zeal in someone. If you’re a little ardent about touching him, it’ll give his esteem a boost he’s long needed, oh god. Nobody has the guts to praise this guy like that, even if he’s so extremely good-looking. Don’t let him off the hook there. Give him feedback, you’ll be surprised how much it resonates.
It’s already apparent to yourself how keen you are being touchy with him, hell, you’re so in love. Still, it’s a good idea to give him an idea how stoked you are. He doesn’t like it fast and brutally raw without a second thought, but passionate is a whole other debate. A simple „Levi, stay like this, let me do it“ or „Levi, you smell so good“ works wonders. Say what you think and his ease will set in. And I don’t have to tell you that you won’t look like sex is a chore anyway. With Levi, that’s an honor and a pleasure.
That he puts his faith in you and gives you his time is already a massive deal and goes against everything we know of him, what he’s used to, and how his avoidant personality works, being so ridden with losses. And it’s all because of how much you desire and approach him. That’s what it comes down to. 
Even if he’d suffer decades from yearning, he’d not go out of his way to kickstart something, never ever. He’d feel like he’d cause you so much trouble. You wanting him so badly and treating his body like a treasure on the other hand changes his mind.
It proves him wrong all the way. There is still time to enjoy love, the chance is now. Anything else would plague Levi with solitude and self-pity all over again. And the feeling of missing you around in his rooms. Two teacups on the table until he grows old and grey are his ideal of a good life, after all. He will open himself to your emotional and physical presence, realizing how touch-starved he is, and how much it improves his life to have someone to kiss and lay down next to at night.
The even breath at the back of his neck gives him a sense of finally someone sticking around with him side by side, even if he’s gone during the day. It feels good and right to be wanted by you, and nuzzling his face into your cotton dress. Your commitment gives him the little smiles and the silver lining he’s been searching for. He can’t label that feeling, but it’s joy of life and humankind, more than just a willingness for it. He would stay forever pained and bitter if he wouldn’t invite it in now, and you won’t waste that chance with being silent.
You’re attracted to everything about him, tell him, make him aware. The voice, the hair, the mannerisms, his height, his abilities, his mind, his care for others, the posture, how soft his cheeks are, the list is endless. Levi won’t miss how much he’s your type at some point. Which gives him a lot of ease, comfort. You show him that his inferiority complex was an entire smokescreen in his mind. 
He fucking deserves to be called handsome. And by the way — you can lust over him as much as you want when he’s made that time window for your couple stuff. It’s good if you make it as obvious as possible for him. Which is hard to hide anyway. You’ve been masturbating over Levi just sitting there sternly writing something. And he’s like why, and you’re like, it’s you! Look at you!
Levi does want you to touch his skin all over but it’s always sore. And he remains insecure on many days. So he only has particular comfortable spots in the first place. Since hardly anybody dares to touch him, and even if he pats someone’s shoulder nobody would ever be courageous enough to reciprocate, you would feel a bit like a lab scientist. Silently theorizing over him at first even if you really don’t have to. Other people say they’d rather run towards a titan than expose themselves to Levi’s moods, swords, and barking tone after trying to caress him in any way.
News flash, Levi has had such terrible moods since forever because there’s no affection coming to him from anywhere just because people decided he might not need it. And no, he won’t yell at you for touching. He finds it very sweet of you instead. Touching Levi always creates an occasion that will float around in his head for the entire day, that’s guaranteed. He sees how someone goes out of their way and cares for his well-being. He might not like it like standing in the middle of the whole corps, but anywhere else is fair game, at home anyway.
The pressure of dealing with threats he can manage to a degree, and he has lord how many coping strategies. The lack of love he cannot. Big difference that everybody seems to confuse. On top of how he has to be unrelenting in his position because battlefield and the Yeagers being a pain. Most people — except maybe Armin — see that as a closedness to touching altogether. 
The whole world seemingly can't intuit Levi’s craving of gentleness behind the arguably pretty convincing armor, but still. It seems like only a few souls ever think about the Levi that sits down on his bed in the evening completely depleted. You have to make it clear to yourself and him that it’s obviously a one-dimensional way of looking at Levi Ackerman and not good for him.
Which has covertly shaped how he interacts with others in return like a vicious spiral, which is why he blames solely himself for his depravation. And, how severe and untouchable the circumstances made his character. Yes, Levi despises himself for being inaccessible and unable to change it on top, added to how it happened to him over the years. 
Which he had pretty much zero influence on being basically at the gunpoint of life. It’s what you hate seeing the most and comfort him about with brewing tea. It definitely comes back tenfold, Levi won’t take it for granted when you brush out his hair and speak soothingly to him in the evening. „I don’t care, those are all reasons why you’re the apple of my eye“ seems to be what makes Levi’s heart a little mushy in particular.
He is very preoccupied with blame at the start of your relationship. Levi is torn apart by daily guilt and a constantly looming perception of failure to show an opening to his heart. He also crumbles under how the majority of people don’t take him seriously, overreact, or fear he snaps back into soldier mode — he doesn’t — when he does show affection. 
That you gaze behind his reputation and touch him without prejudice is the most important thing to him. You can ignore his mad and gloomy expression, Paradis has carved it into his face for half an eternity (the other half is for you and him when this is over). It doesn’t mean he’s angry on the inside about you. The causes for his madness are way elsewhere, knowing his early story it goes without saying. What made Levi callous and broken-hearted are things very opposite to you.
Those who only see and enjoy his fighting personality probably want him as their poster boy, people who are reflected enough to bother with the idea of a private, cuddling Levi are the only truly caring ones. Because private Levi needs that physical and emotional connection the most. Patting his cadets on their heads is only a little, albeit meaningful moment. The teacup is still half-empty regardless if you wanna think of it in those terms.
Because he can only do so much in terms of initiative — which already shocks people to the point of paralysis, which ruins the moment since he assumes it’s not appreciated then — and it’s only one-sided. Giving isn’t fully making him happy even if it’s his only option given how most people perceive him. 
The teacup only fills to the brim if Levi can let go for like half an hour getting some good ole kitty on your lap treatment. He silently lays there and enjoys your hand rubbing at the back of his neck. He looks genuinely peaceful that way. His hand palms gently at your thigh and knee, and rests there all tranquil while he ruminates about his day and how lucky he is to have you.
The whole ‚theorzing rather than going for it‘ thing stems from you listening to those people a bit too much at the beginning. Instead of asking Levi directly about touch, and to be fair: Not a single human being has done that yet, you try to figure him out at a distance. Which is also a good thing though. 
You learn about many Levi habits others would overlook, misinterpret, or don’t think have any meaning. The more you learn about him, the more understanding you become, the more protective you will be, the less he will avoid intimacy. Because Levi really doesn’t want to shy away, but often his body has too much memory in it to be instantly receptive. So it rather starts with the mind, then.
The irony is. Levi rejecting bonds with others as not to have them weigh heavy on his mind when fighting will only make it worse. You make a statement to him that if he fully immerses himself in what you have, he can fight better and actually be without those godforsaken regrets he’s always talking about. That’s why when you’re having sex, you make him look in your eyes and kiss their lids, and wrap your legs around him very firmly because Levi has to know he’s deeply yours. 
Hugs, the same thing. You squeeze the last curse out of him every time and tell him to hold you tight as well. You do have to tell him twice. Just because Levi is the strongest man in history, doesn’t mean he embraces very roughly. In fact, Levi is not used to this at all. Even more irony. Paradis’ ever-swearing, most badass titan killer with the physical excellence of a hundred acrobats can’t execute the simple act of putting his arms around you in a normal, casual way.
The why is the harder thing to talk about. Last time he got proper, truly loving hugs was way over 20 years ago. From Kuchel, during a time where he was too young to remember these things long-term. Let that sink in. It confuses him when he does it and even more so when others do. Kissing Historia’s hand even as a light official gesture was already completely unusual for him and a first time. 
Levi doesn’t go beyond what he sees others doing in that regard. No extra miles, just imitating. Now think of him with something as big a deal as embracing his lover for minutes. He lets his arms just hang there and you gotta make him learn how to intertwine fingers or how to press his palms on your back. You’re the one holding him tight there, while Levi’s mind and stare go blank, he’s even more speechless and perplexed after confronting his uncle back then.
I’m not kidding. You have to ask Levi to be forthcoming with those things as well, it simply does not occur to him, and he’s unsure about everything there is to it. What a loveless world this guy is in. If it already frustrates you to see him struggle, imagine how deprived he must be. One of his inner blocks is, Levi has major jealousy of guys who are what he thinks a better hugging height. It’s obviously the other way around to anybody who’d be in love with Levi. 
Of course he has the best hugging height by far. What’s not to like? He’s ideal. But in his perspective, imagine all these people above him wrapping around each other in moments of enthusiasm, shoulder-level on shoulder-level, or only with slight differences. And when it comes to him, it feels awkward because they feel strange bending down only for him and Armin.
And that’s probably the issue. Because it’s much better not to bend and try and intertwine, but just have Levi bury his face into your winter coat without a hassle. You don’t have to be perfectly chest to chest to make it work. Besides… romantic hugs are always a bit different. And, you invite Levi to do exactly that with you. Since Levi’s pet peeve is politeness, you’ll also have to show him the difference between mere courtesy and love, he hasn’t fully learned it either. 
But just so you know. Levi is not a naive baby or raging bull in a china shop once he has given his love to someone. He observes well, adapts well. When it’s heartfelt, when it’s the right moment, it comes out almost by surprise, he’s feeling it and he will respond to you. With serenity and intent.
If there’s someone who can be unpretentious with physicality, that’s him. He just has to transfer that to romantic gestures and Levi will be the perfect lover after some time. He’ll end up like, „Eh, so what. We do this hugging thing!“ — Hilarious. Levi, knowing his battle tactics, does have a sort of innate courage to approach bodies: This time, it’s about someone he wants to give pleasure and gratitude to, though. Which will feel very different. 
And you’re a lady he’s all whipped for, that changes everything. He might sort of try to lean at the wall next to you, to murmur about you kissing him after eating cake so he’s full of crumbs „and now I have to dust it all off again, hmph“, but he is not prepared for another kiss and you tickling him pinned against the wall (he’s not ticklish, but you still love it, and Levi has a thing for you being all over him despite his stoic face).
So yeah, Levi will be super grumpy and do the „Oi oi!“ thing, but also turn around so you won’t see the blush. Man, is he embarrassed. He will try to waddle away awkwardly to do paperwork, but no chance if you tug him back by the sleeve, dust off his shirt from crumbs, and squeeze his cheeks into a perfect Levi snoot. I’m telling you, he has a nice pouty face. 
He might assume that you’re out of your mind because nobody has done that with him yet, but once you tell him that you just wanna look at him because every day might be the last, he sees the point of your antics. Merely saying you kiss him just because won’t make sense to the captain, it’s gotta have a purpose for the future.  
So, you will tell him to always remember what your soothing lips do on him before he draws the blade tomorrow, and that he has plenty of filthy crumbs to come home to. „I think that’s right by what we’ve seen today“ is what he’ll admit, and carries you off to the bed to get grinding because all that stuff made him kinda turned on. Or rather, you grind, Levi on the other hand gets flustered. He complains about you being a tease at length since he’s having a huge she-pinned-me-to-the-wall boner. 
You sit on his face to take it even further and as his favorite treat, end of discussion, your goddess is here mister. Geez, you’ll make him a hot mess. That dick won’t go soft anytime soon. You’ll talk to him about when his face is already ruined with cake crumbs, he has nothing to lose, gotta clean up anyway. The grumbling noise from below tells you that the argument is a good one. For good measure, you palm at his trousers to see his legs react and his voice suddenly hitch. Ah, it’s a wonderful day.
Levi knows a thing or two about holding his breath correctly, but what he likes the most is that he feels perfectly sandwiched between thigh Rose and thigh Maria. Yeah, he does consider them his personal comfort walls and hopes they’ll always be there. Congruently, Levi wraps his arms around them, in fact it’s locking rather than wrapping, and you’re like I see wow he’s serious. 
On goes his tongue lapping away between your labia pretty much incessantly. The arousal is so intense, you have to breathe in yourself. Oh shit, Levi is gonna try to finish you off, shots fired. Not fast, but insisting. He does not bother with you panting pretty damn hard whatsoever. He’s calling people like that, but Levi might be the real brat all along.
Fair enough, he currently doesn’t hear anything, which he also loves the idea of. All day, people everywhere are talking nonsense, and now he gets to enjoy perfect silence. His ears are small, they’re easy to cover with thighs. He just goes on and on and gets you past lord how many brinks with a heated buildup. 
There are a lot of evil things Mister Zeke has said and committed, but by far the most offending thing he has yet insinuated is that Levi is not popular with the ladies. Blasphemy, treason, outrage, éclat, trickery, criminal offense, international slander, the most grueling case of fake news since the horse left the building, and no, Jean is not meant. With those oral skills, any lady interested in him would get a permanently bleeding nose and something else permanently wet as you can personally attest to.
If Paradis would even remotely know what he can do in bed (and they would if Connie told them, he lives next door), even more people would run down his house than they already do to get a piece of him. Jesus Christ, the Ackerstamina. But I mean. People are probably suspecting it. 
How can you not move like a god in bed if you can bend yourself into any Pythagorean shape mid-air. Him being a fighter also gives him experience with managing energy when you have sex, I’m not kidding. Levi can even handle you thrusting right back on his tongue, and even your jokes about how he’s getting the cream to his tea now.
Levi is already kind of dripping in juice. His fingers are sweaty, this time it’s something on his face and hands he prefers though. He won’t wipe it off just yet. So you take on the task to put a condom on him — kind of expensive, mysteriously imported, gotta make every one count my friend — and have Levi take you from behind to soil the bedsheets completely at this point. 
Levi lets all the leaking happen, of course he notices, and yet he’s too focused on you gripping his cock hard all the way. So much for walls. Levi has to surrender to the thought of you squeezing him in any way you fancy at this point. That doesn’t just include the face, that much he learned. His cock is gonna fall off, you tighten up so much and make him squirm, Levi’s all blissed out.
He can’t handle your ass either. He just stares like the Founding Titan invented a brand new method to hypnotize the Ackermans or something. Although. Why’d you need to come up with something, though? People they love completely enthrall them already. 
If we know something by now, it's that every Ackerman gets completely fucked in the head out of the blue and sent to another dimension when they’re with the love of their life, no hypnotizing device needed. Levi is clasping his teeth for his dear life back there. People asking him if he’s gone mad he’d answer ‚maybe‘, but if you asked him if this made him lose it he would admit it.
Since he doesn’t know what to do with his hands again, you ask him to place them at your waist. „Properly, now slide in, Levi.“ — He takes his time for the first few thrusts, grunts, but gets the hang of it, in fact he’s a pro in the making. All that vertical maneuvering can turn into horizontal maneuvering very quickly. Levi feels so strange and so good at the same time, it’s overwhelming. How can something he thought would be so dirty be this amazing? 
And since this position allows him to penetrate you even deeper, Levi gets the full experience of being inside of you times two. The wet noise already turns him on, his body feels so warmed up, and he feels really shocked he’s doing this. Although his face won’t show, it’ll be concentrated as before. On the inside, Levi is losing it.
He can’t get enough of your body and how you tell him what to do, Levi will be driving it home in no time. You’re gonna have your jaw dropped by how lusty he can get yourself, but also love how he’s really breaking a sweat just because of your hard grip. Who would have thought. 14-meter class titans got nothing on you. Levi’s entire neck and chest is glazed over. You call him out on it, all you’re gonna get is a little ‚tch, that’s your fault, woman‘. I mean of course it is. He’s literally at your mercy. I told you he’s hilarious.
Little did you know that Levi will straight-up ignore his sweatiness and just continue, one heartbeat at a time, to really fill you out and make you feel good. Can you imagine. Levi dedicating like 20 minutes to make sweet love to you doggystyle. 
He has a good feeling for keeping you just on the verge of cumming. He even reaches around to press two fingers into your clit after five minutes of figuring out his angles. You didn’t expect this at all. It’s as if Levi can read your mind going „but his hands are gonna get really messy, why?“ — he just goes on rubbing and says, deadpan: „Miss, do I look like I care.“
Some dirty things in the world are just there to annoy him. They’re not existing to make his life easier. And toilet humor-related things: We know Levi’s stance on that. Wet pussy on the other hand: Surprise. He thinks of it very differently. Levi is pretty caught off guard by the fact that you loving and adoring him is the reason you’re leaking so much. 
It sinks in (um, literally) that you’re all drippy because you really want him inside. Not to mention that he constantly realizes just how attracted to him you are. Your desire for him, that’s Ackerman kryptonite. Levi doesn’t miss your eyes, nope. That motherfucker is a damn good face reader.
And— How warmed up your body feels in his hands, how you’re breathing. How you’re telling him exactly how to tilt to hit the good spots. How you’re sucking in air when he does just that. How you sound, grip the pillow, the sheets. Your goosebumps all over your legs. How your lips part. How you wait for every thrust. The way you tell him how good it is. Your pulse. Your own sweaty back, letting his hands on your waist slip and slide a little with the rhythm. 
How he’s struggling not to moan his soul out and chokes back. How you’re softly moving to glide off, he’s gonna lose his mind. How much you’re enjoying him and how cute you tell him he is. Whatever you’d ask of him, he’s so ready to fulfill it. You having the absolute hots for Levi is probably gonna preoccupy him for the whole night while you’re sleeping and he sits in the chair.
He’s been shooting grumpy cat level eye daggers with extra Ackerpoison at the corps couples for walking around showing any signs of this. Making all those lovey-dovey faces or going to the back of the barn together. Levi has chased them with his favored broom to whoop-diddly-doop those horndog soldiers back on track, swirling his weapon of choice around to send a sweeping cloud of dust after them.
Whereas now… he has to deal with the fact that he really loves all that horny stuff. Cognitive dissonance 101 is striking him out of nowhere. I mean he’d not fuck in the barn, that one is truly disgustingly shittily bastardly filthy or however he’d word it, but you get the gist. He caught feelings and caught pleasure — and that’s such a good thing.
His problem is, Levi wouldn’t know how to fawn right back at you. Except saying „good job“ like he’d praise a cadet, but he decides that’s not something to say during sex. He’s very right about that indeed. So instead: He will always reply to you accordingly and with Levi-typical honesty. 
If you say you love how he kisses your neck from behind, he will tell you he’s enjoying it as well because damn he loves that spot indeed (titans can tell you a story about it… Levi has such a neck fixation, that fucker). And: Letting actions speak the loudest with him. He’s a practical guy. Levi’s hands can to the most complicated reverse grips and all that crazy human Beyblade shit. Getting you off at his fingertips is gonna be his easiest exercise ever once he gets into it.
He doesn’t even do it to show off at this point. Levi is just that kind of a sex machine and eager to please, not to mention god, is he obedient and a giver in disguise. If Levi were offered the most luxurious, expensive tea available versus your breasts to suck on for a week given he’s free of titan duty… that cup is gonna turn cold. He loves the skinship and he loves giving you a fuckton of orgasms, as many as you like and as many he has time for.
Self-explanatory, this is something he will not feel one bit of regret about. Hours touching you is the farthest from wasting time to Levi. The less he holds back with his love, the more secure things become. He doesn’t feel the misery he thought he’d run into, nor does it feel like a reckless act that’s only something feeble. 
The new soap every other week on his table alone reminds him you’re here to stay and like his every quirk, and make this a private thing rather than something to parade around. You never lied saying „Levi, you’re mine.“ He does wrap his head around the fact that all of this is happening with time.
Levi finds your relationship meaningful because it gives him feelings and exactly that emotional harbor he never had before, and he gifts you the reverence of your lifetime since Levi doesn’t half-ass anything. You reassured and guided him so much, he looks up to that, it breaks down his prejudice against loving more and more. That’s how you’ll feel intimate in all kinds of ways for very intense hours he can spare to make the most out of it. 
From the light touch at his arm to making out until the candles burn down. And if you tell Levi to sell the deal and dedicate his heart, how can he not take that as a serious order. He has to be guarded to put his guard down, and that’s what you can offer him, and he will create something lasting out of it. Promise is promise to him, we all know.
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RELATED:  sub!levi hc (tea shop au) | life after war (levi’s happy end)
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