i dunno any others

Building characters up for the big ending of the book without really knowing how the “final battle” is actually going to play out

Originally posted by zorpeezi-squeezy

fairy-isle  asked:

Sorry, I should've specified that I was asking about the animated ones on firealpaca?

Sounds like you need

a tutorial!

hope this is okay??

the reference image,Underverse and Cross belongs to @jakei95 and Fresh belongs to @loverofpiggies

also ive been thinking about this for days but there may come a time where astro dye their hair random colours……..and i aint ready for that at all………….not ready to sign up for it………………….@ fantagio plz give a warning if it happens…………………………

iavenjqasdf  asked:

Noire C2, Kjelle 4A!

Kjelle entered a handwrestling mini tournament on their town, she lost to someone in the finals (i assume effie or something like that) and got rul salty about it, thinking there was some foul play in it

 Noire was very bad about hiding her feelings and one of the organizers took this photo and posted it on their facebook page as a wholesome meme about how you shouldnt just focus on whats infront of you

ITH Ballet AU drabble

Pairing: SonnyPete

Warnings: none! This is just pure fluff

Word count: 1016

A/N: this is just a drabble, honestly? It’s for @princetetat‘s ballet au. I had a lot of fun writing this, and it’s good to have a change from all the Hamilton stuff I write <3


As always, Pete accompanied Sonny to the dance studio before his show, fingers intertwined as the taller of the two hummed the tune of one of the songs that Sonny had been practicing nonstop for the past week. The two rounded a corner, and Pete glanced over at his boyfriend.

“What’s the matter, babe?” Pete tilted his head, a small smile played across his mouth.

“‘M just nervous, I guess. I still don’t know if I have all the steps down…” Sonny said, biting the inside of his cheek. Pete stopped, pulling Sonny back.

“Hey, look at me,” He reached out, placing a finger under the other boy’s chin. “You’re going to do fantastic, Son-shine. I know it.” Pete grinned lopsidedly, gently placing his hands on either side of Sonny’s face, kissing the tip of his nose.

Sonny giggled, but gave a little pout, rounding another corner, the studio in sight. “How come you never kiss me before the show?” He asked, nodding when Pete held the door open for him.

“Because, it makes it that much better when I get to kiss you after the show. I don’t want to accidentally kiss you senseless and you forget your steps.” Pete said, shrugging off Sonny’s backpack and reaching into it, pulling out his ballet outfit and handing it to him.

“Hey Pete?” Sonny slid the thin black material over his body, quickly getting dressed while it was just the two of them in the room.

“Mhm?” Pete already had his sketchbook out, the pencil scratching on paper as he glanced between the pad and his boyfriend. Sonny smiled. “Thanks for always coming with me to get dressed, even though the show won’t start for another hour or so,” he stretched out, running through the stretches subconsciously– it was second nature to him now.

“Of course babe, I ain’t got anything better to do. Plus, it’s time with you away from Usnavi, so he can’t yell at me just for lookin’ at you.” Pete said. Sonny rolled his eyes, tapping the top of the sketchbook to get the other’s attention. “You know, you don’t have to draw me all the time,” he said, glancing at the paper.

“Yeah, but it’s good practice,” Pete set the pad down, tucking his pencil behind his ear. “Wanna run through it one more time before you have to practice with everyone else?”

Sonny smiled, nodding gratefully. Pete fished out his phone, setting it down after music began to play.

When Pete would help Sonny practice, Sonny always had to close his eyes because he would giggle at how absolutely terrible Pete was at ballet- though he was forever thankful for his ever supportive boyfriend- and if he didn’t close his eyes he wouldn’t be able to get anything done.

Nina and Vanessa walked in shortly afterwards, engaged in some conversation about whether or not The Nutcracker was cliché.

“It’s totally cliché Nina! Every ballet studio has done it!” Vanessa said, setting her duffle on the bench. “Vanessa, it’s a classic! It’s like, a rite of passage!” Nina argued, putting her hair up.

“Hey Son, Pete,” Nina waved. “Hey!” Sonny greeted happily; this caused Pete to glance at him oddly for a millisecond. “Ahh Pete, we have 45 minutes to practice all together, so you gotta get out before Dani comes.” Sonny said, hugging him. Pete kissed his cheek, returning the embrace before grabbing his sketchbook.

“Alright Son-shine, good luck. You’re gonna be perfect, as always!” Pete called, backing out of the changing room. He went and claimed his usual spot up at the front, saving a seat for Usnavi, and finished up his sketch of Sonny as he waited.


As soon as the show was over, Pete practically raced over to Sonny, easily picking him up and spinning around to stop his momentum. “You were amazing, babe!” he said, gently setting the other boy back down.

Sonny smiled broadly, laughing at how enthusiastic Pete was. The artist smiled back at him, before leaning down and kissing him quickly.

Sonny loved Pete’s kisses. They made his chest tighten and his heart flutter, and it was like time stopped, and it was only him and Pete who existed. Sonny guessed that his boyfriend was just magical, because nothing else made him feel that way.

Just as fast as it was there, it was gone, that’s how Pete always did it. A deep blush bloomed on Sonny’s face, reaching up to the tips of his ears.

“P-Pete! You can’t just-” Sonny was cut off by his cousin. “Pete, get your grimy paint hands off my cousin, tu rata!” Usnavi said, frowning. “Nobody wants to watch that.”

“Oh, shut up cuz, we know that you’d be doin’ the same thing to Vanessa if you could,” Sonny countered. Pete laughed, reluctantly letting go of his boyfriend. Usnavi blushed, shaking his head.

Once again, Sonny was enveloped in another hug. “You were great, Son!” Usnavi smiled.

“Okay okay, I gotta go get dressed, then we can talk about how awesome I am,” Sonny laughed, turning and disappearing into the other room.

Pete watched him go, sighing happily. Usnavi rolled his eyes, making a fake gagging noise.

“You two are gross,” He said, crossing his arms. Pete shrugged, smiling. “So what? I love him and he deserves all the love and praise ever, and I’m giving him that.” he said. Usnavi didn’t argue that.

Sonny returned quickly, back in his normal clothes. “Hey, Van and Nina are going out for a celebratory dinner, can we go?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Of course!” Usnavi was equally as happy to be around Vanessa as he was to celebrate the performance, so it was a win-win all around.

Pete glanced at Sonny and grinned, reaching out and taking his hand. Sonny leaned into his shoulder as they walked out. He couldn’t have been more happy.

Teruki was sickly sweet.

He was golden honey, thick and rich, dripping off of cracked, brittle bones that were rotted through the middle. His skin was dried, cracked syrup, gooey and sticky to the touch. Teru’s hair was golden ribbons, too dull and weathered to shine under the sun’s rays. He was emotionless smiles full of sharp, bleach white teeth. He was vacant eyes that shone gold under the right light, but were pupilless and void of anything.

anonymous asked:

I dunno why you ship your oc with Bendy when any other batim ocs out there would love to woo you. Would make her less Mary-sueish too. Just my 2 cents and shit.

(( o: riddle me this, what part of her is a Mary sue? Because I ship her with a canon character? Silly anon I do what I want c: I dunno why you come to me acting like you know what a Mary sue is please have a good day ♡♡))

Something Worth Leaving Behind [Jeff Hardy x Reader Smut]

Request for @imaginelatenight​: Jeff always going in the same club when he is in town, because he has fallen for the barkeeper.


A/N: Made the club a normal bar but it’s basically the same lol! And this turned into sort of a song fic as well because when I started writing this I heard this song on Spotify and thought it just fit with the concept. Sooo, without further ado, please enjoy! No warnings, just plot with smut.


Jeff had always gone to the same bar downtown— whenever he was in town.

Rather than it being a rather weekly experience, it turned into a visit every month or so since he had began his wrestling career. He knew everyone there; from the quirky manager down to the bus boys who always seemed to be cleaning tables. It was a family business, so it wasn’t really surprising.

The place, called Willow’s, by the way, only hired a handful of people not related to them by blood.

One of the lucky few was Y/N.

Jeff remembered clearly the day he met you; it had been almost two months since his last visit (due to a busy schedule and not always having the time to fly all the way back home even on days off) and he’d just gotten out of an argument with Matt. He had been searching for familiar faces and a good couple rounds of beer, but instead, he was greeted by a brand new face — bright eyed and smiling at him.

“Hiya. Can I get you something, sir?”

“Jeff.”

You blinked, the bustle of the bar around you muffling his voice.

“Sorry?”

Jeff cleared his throat, flickering his eyes down at his intertwined hands before looking up again; he realized he was probably staring.

“Jeff, you can call me that.”

You smiled, setting down a couple of shot glasses behind the counter after you finished drying them off.

“Alrighty, Jeff. So how about that drink, huh?”

“Just the house beer, thanks.” He returned the smile.

“Sure thin—”

“Ahem, I’m gonna need to see some ID first.” A lower voice cut in, and the two of you jumped; it was the manager Mr. Willow, wearing one of his ‘boss’ faces.

You gulped, toying with the collar of your grey and black uniform.

“I was about to ask for that,” You squeaked, looking terribly embarrassed.

Mr. Willow narrowed his eyes down at you a moment, but quickly flipped his expression around to a blinding smile. He reached over and clapped Jeff on the shoulder, laughing at Jeff’s furrowed expression.

“Only a joke, only a joke! This is one of our long time customers, kiddo. You should get used to seeing him from time to time.” The taller man addressed you kindly, patting your back once before shaking his head and sauntering away.

A silence passed, odd, since the bar was it’s usual busy lil nook, but it was ended when you took a sharp breath and turned to grab a mug and fill it with beer. You set it down in front of Jeff, the liquid damn near overflowing over the rim.

“Here you are. I’m really sorry about that,” You blurted, unsure as to why you were such a mess tonight. You half hoped you’d never be working whenever Jeff came back, and half hoped you would be working- just so you could make it up to him for being so ditzy.

Your flushed face melted away, however, when Jeff just chuckled and took a sip of the amber liquid— his green eyes peeking over at you as he did. When he set down the glass he licked his lips clean and leaned on the counter.

“What’re you apologizin’ for?”

“Oh, I dunno,” You glanced down the bar to see if any other customers needed anything; they were all otherwise inclined. “It’s just my first week here and I’m already messing up with the simplest things.”

Suddenly the last thing on Jeff’s mind was that stupid argument with Matt; at that time he just wanted to talk to you— you weren’t the same old people he traveled with, you weren’t family, and you weren’t some bumbling fan trying to paw at him. You were terribly worried about tiny things, basically the polar opposite of his high-risk, live for the moment life style.

“Lucky I came into town then,” Jeff rang, taking a shorter swig of his drink.

“Why’s that?” You raised a brow, the subtle things in your facial expressions always the most significant.

“I only come around every few months, next time I come Willow will probably have kicked ya out.”

The shock on your face was straight comical, but Jeff couldn’t stand looking at the mix of concern and offense too long. He swallowed harshly then let out a laugh.

“I’m kidding. I know this place, the Willows hardly ever hire anyone new— if you ain’t family. If Mr. Willow is already making jokes with you, you must be somethin’ real special.”

Your wide eyes stared at him, parted mouth slowly closing. For a moment Jeff thought you were gonna be mad, but all you did was huff and cross your arms, a ghost of a smile reappearing.

“Seems he isn’t the only one making jokes with me, Mr. Jeff,” you sniped, using the name that way simply to drive home the comparison. Jeff decided he liked it when you smirked at him like that.

The rest of that night was sprinkled with the two of you talking whenever you weren’t busy actually doing your job. Since you were still a little on edge, you tried not to just stand around and chat for too long or too often, but nevertheless it was enough.

It was enough for Jeff not to forget about you, and enough for him to look forward to seeing you again.

It seemed each time Jeff came back down he found out something new about you that kept him coming back.

One visit he found out you and him had very similar tastes in music. It was during one of the late Saturday Nights in which the bar strayed away from the live music and went for playlists created by the staff (a mix of personal favorites and requests from regulars).

Jeff had already been there around an hour before the Bluesy mix switched into a rock set list— comprised of songs he could say he’d played on repeat on the road. He was unconsciously nodding his head to the beat, swirling his drink in one hand and tapping his fingers on his knee with the other.

“You like that?”

“Hell yeah,” By now he recognized your voice and spun around in his stool to face you. “You too?”

“Well, seeing as this is my playlist, I hope so.” You tightened your ponytail, looking out over the small crowd dancing about. It was your second break, so you had at least 20 minutes to burn, get a snack too.

Jeff seemed a little taken aback at first, setting down his cup and now using both his hands to follow the familiar drums with his palms on his jeans.

“Didn’t take you to be a rocker chick.”

You lolled your head to one side, giving Jeff a side glance.

“And what did you take me to be?”

Jeff shrugged, grinning. “Like, country maybe? Alternative at most.”

You rolled your eyes, getting tired of Jeff always finding a way to ridicule you. It was still a lighthearted conversation, mind you, and you felt more comfortable talking to him as of late.

“I do like country. Just not the twangy-banjo type stuff; and alternative, if you’d believe it.”

“Variety. That’s not a bad thing.” Jeff said, but felt his heart beat a little faster when he saw your eyes snap close and your fingers do a cute little air guitar when it got to the song’s iconic riff.

“Exactly.” You mumbled, smiling and giggling as you dropped your hands, torn between feeling brave and shy.

There was small bell from behind you, and one of your coworkers slid a basket of fries over the counter to you.

“Your usual, Y/N. Fries n’ ranch.”

The halt in your conversation didn’t bother you at all, and you didn’t hesitate taking a bite out of a couple fries after dipping them. Jeff’s eyes flickered between you and the dance floor, a new song just starting.

“So, since you’re into all that music, I’m guessin’ you got some dancing genes in there,” Jeff wagged his brows, shaking his shoulders.

You nearly choked, but managed the food down with some effort. As adorable as Jeff’s tiny preview was, you didn’t have such genes.

“Ahem, no. I’m more the singing in the shower, dance while I’m home alone, person.”

Jeff frowned, but didn’t let up. He swung onto his feet, holding out open palms and trying to beckon you away from your perch against the bar.

“Oh cmon. If you can do either of those things at all, you can do them in a room full of people who are probably too drunk to remember it anyway.”

You honest to god considered it - if only for a fleeting period - but rubbed your neck and crossed your feet.

“Maybe someday. But,” He started swaying his hips side to side, making some silly face. You snorted, but turned around and focused back on your French fries. As much as you liked seeing him around, he wasn’t going to go suckering you into doing stuff you weren’t comfortable with just because he made you laugh. “Not right now okay?”

Jeff had to say that one hurt more than he expected it to. But he wasn’t going to force you, so he sat back down, resting his chin on his arm.

“… Don’t be all depressed about it. Feel free to go dance if you want to dance. There are plenty of girls that would probably love to have a partner.” You felt almost guilty, seeing him suddenly looking bored.

“Not in the mood, you’re kind of a kill joy.”

Your jaw dropped, even if you could see it in his eyes that he was still messing with you.

“Alright, so you shouldn’t wanna dance with me anyway. I saved you a waste of time and it looks like my break’s about to be over anyway, Jeff.” You threw him some sass, and popped a fry into your mouth as you took the basket to walk away.

He further tilted his head, pouting his lips.

“I’m gonna hold you to that ‘someday,’ ya know.”

You stopped just behind the counter, gifting him one last glance.

“I guess… I did say maybe.”

The night ended with you exchanging phone numbers.

You were sprawled across your bed, humming something to yourself when you heard your phone buzz. The noise not only startled you (more than it should’ve) but it also made you lose track of the tune in your head.

You sighed, rolling over and expecting the message to be from work.

From: Mr. Jeff
[ I should be back in town in a couple weeks!]

So, not work.

… Just what you looked forward to seeing at work; even if you always had to wait for it.

You replied:

[ Y the heads up? Usually just come whenever u want to ]

Another buzz.

[ Not whenever I want to. Whenever I can :p ]

You smirked in amusement at the small emoticon. Why was it he sounded so cute in texts?

[ Ok. Cya soon.]

Buzz.

[ You ready for that dance yet? ]

You blushed, having hoped he would forget.

[ Nope, sorry :/ ]

Hopefully that wasn’t too bitchy.

[ Someday ;p what’re you doing ? Slacking off at work?]

[ It’s the weekend Jeff. ]

[ I’m working on some new ring moves w/ Matt. I can email a video later if u want ]

That made you pause. You glanced down at the mess of paper underneath your elbows before texting him back.

[ Don’t know how I’m gonna help with that? ]

[ Praise me. Or blackmail me if it’s terrible ]

You smiled widely, feeling happy enough to feel like you were actually talking to him in person. You really didn’t know much about wrestling, but you’d honestly only watched it whenever he was performing— and even then only on days when the bar happened to have it on the TVs.

You’d probably watch it more if you bothered paying for cable in your apartment, but that, you did not. Still, you supported Jeff doing anything that he loved.

[ Sounds like a plan my man lol ]

What the fuck ? You retyped.

[ Sounds like a plan. Better be good then c: ]

Some hours passed with him just throwing random thoughts your way, and the occasional long periods of silence in which he was back practicing. You wondered who else he texted like this; not in a jealous way, but more, curious.

The more you saw him or texted him, the more you were simultaneously accustomed to and unnerved by his presence in your life.

You had a crush, admittedly.

If only you knew.

Jeff had kept his promise of being back in town within the next week and a half— however, you never really had the specifics of when he’d appear in the bar, so you were never quite prepared.

You were on duty, having just served a nice Dirty Martini to one of the older women that came to the bar weekly. In the pocket of your waist apron, you had a small notebook that you only pulled out briefly to jot things down that popped into your head at the darndest of times. You had to, though, lest you forget and end up kicking yourself for it.

You were scribbling words down frantically, not wanting to have your attention off potential customers for more than thirty seconds. Clicking your blue pen, you flipped the notebook shut just as someone took a seat right in front of you.

“What’s up, buttercup? You writing down ya grocery list or somethin’?”

You flinched, pocketing the book.

“No.”

Wow, great comeback.

He raised his brows, staring only at you as if he expected more words to come.

“You’re really not gonna tell me what it is?”

“I have a right to secrets.”

Jeff had discovered somewhere down the line that he had a gift — at least one that came in handy when he was with you, in person. Countless times he’d wished he was able to utilize it via text, but sadly, it wasn’t so.

You would’ve been smart to scurry over to the next customer that had just taken a stool only a few spaces down from Jeff; however, one of the other bartenders was quick to their station and you were forced to shift your weight between your feet instead.

Upon glancing at Jeff, he was pulling a serious set of puppy dog eyes on you.

Sweet Jesus.

On top of that his soft-looking lips were slowly curling up at the corners, everything about him begging you to just let your whole soul out for the world to see.

And all he freakin’ wanted was to know what you wrote in your notebook.

It was a wonder how you didn’t turn into some kind of puddle right then and there.

Clenching your jaw, you puffed out a breath through your nose and felt your face warming before you even uttered the truth.

“Lyrics.” You murmured.

He leaned closer, internally feeling triumphant— but also,

“—What?”

“Song… stuff. Okay?”

Jeff’s suave demeanor flickered away, a look of childish excitement taking its place.  

“You said lyrics? I thought I heard that, but then I thought— Ms. Only-Sings-In-The-Shower would never—”

“I do only sing in the shower. You don’t have to sing for other people if you happen to write songs..”

“That’s true. But you do have to sing for me now.” Jeff beamed and the skin around his eyes crinkled from smiling so wide.

“I’m pretty sure I shall not.” You said incredulously.

“— Can I geh anothuh beer, shweet cheeks?” A rugged, slurred voice interrupted, and only then you realized you and Jeff had hardly broken eye contact this entire time.

You turned toward the man down the bar, his frame slumped partially over as he waved his empty mug. His bleary eyes glanced right back at you before bravely trailing down your body. Your mouth formed a straight line and you didn’t dare see what Jeff looked like at that moment; you grabbed another chilled mug and filled it an inch below the rim before walking it over to him.

“I really recommend this be your last one for the night.” And you forced a smile before pivoting and going back to somewhere near Jeff. Willow’s had no drink limit, customers drank at their own discretion— but if anyone ever got out of hand Mr. Willow himself always called he or she a cab and got them back wherever they had to be. Or he phoned up a relative if the trouble maker happened to be a local.

All the while, Jeff was clenching his fist under the wood of the bar surface, hardly holding back from getting up and whopping the man right across the jaw when he heard a sharp cat-call echo your way while you were walking. The drunkard’s eyes never left you as he drank and hiccuped.

Your knuckles slid across the polish of the bar edge and you narrowed your gaze at Jeff.

“I’m used to drunks like that. Their heads aren’t on right and they’re probably whistling at any girl they see,”

“Especially one that looks like you, Y/N.” Jeff said vehemently, his annoyance fully aimed at the man.

“He’s starin’ because you’re too nice to slap him like he deserves.”

You’d never seen him react like that before - not that he was usually around on the sparse occasions that this happened. He seemed genuinely furious, his green irises darkened under his hooded eyelids.

“Jeff, don’t do anything… stupid. Why’re you acting all jealous?” You rushed out, knitting your brows together. You understood a friend being protective, but you could see his arm tensed from making a fist.

He took a deep breath and locked eyes with you, voice calm…ish; never contradicting your accusation of jealousy.

“How’s this sound? You sing some of your song for me, I don’t punch that lard ass for eye-fuckin’ you? If not, I’m gonna go ahead,” He hitched up a biting smirk, his fisted hand tapping on the bar before releasing so he could push off of it to stand up.

With that ultimatum he seemed set on betting you weren’t gonna go serenading him this moment, or even any time soon, and over-eager to start a bar fight. It wasn’t a shot at you, it was just a more creative way of saying he didn’t want you to stop him (only because he was used to you being shy).

You reached over the bar, snatching a hold of his arm.

He’d just barely lifted off his bar stool when you did, sitting back down immediately at feeling your hand on him.

His brows were still arched, but his fiery eyes dampened when they swiveled back down to you, awkwardly pressed over the bar counter and still squeezing onto him like you thought you’d lose him to the void.

“I.. I uhm…”

His attention from his designated target was dwindling.

“Lean closer would you?” You mumbled, eyes locked on an old chip on the wooden surface between you.

Jeff didn’t exactly know what the point was, but set aside his agenda for the time being, thinking perhaps you’d even tell him to punch the guy extra hard cause he’d bothered you before or something.

You did no such thing.

Clearing your throat, you quietly hummed something to get your note, before whisper-singing a small bit of the song you’d been working on. You had fears, doubts, and that feeling this wasn’t actually happening, but it was. Your voice was small, almost cracking due to how low you were uttering it, but was pleasant nonetheless.

“… H-Hey Mozart, what kind of name is Amadeus? It’s kinda like Elvis… you gotta die to be famous.”

You breathed deeply, wondering whether to continue or not — your eyes saw Jeff was still rather tense, so you, hesitantly, continued.

“…I may not go down in history, I just want someone… to remember me,”

Your sweet rasp died off like a flame, and you swallowed thickly, hand flinching away from the bicep you had still been tethering yourself to.

Why did you just do that? That was painfully awkward, and you’d just latched onto him like some psychopath —

Head dipped, cheeks burning, you dared a peek at Jeff. His face was unreadable. Blank. But his body had gone completely lax, his arms draped over his legs and his frame rocked slightly toward you.

“You really can’t stand violence, can you,” he spoke, the question rhetorical. You bit your lip, wanting to laugh or something but not making a noise.

“Your voice is beautiful, Y/N.” He went on, eyes sparkling in the dim lighting.

You shook your head, knowing that especially singing that low almost nobody sounded very good. He thought otherwise, and was hell bent on spending the rest of his life convincing you of that if he had to. Jeff couldn’t have cared less about the drunkard anymore— couldn’t have cared less if everyone else in the room just up and left.

He wanted to hear you more.

Honestly, he sorta realized all at once that he wanted to hear you everyday, and not just singing — maybe it was because he’d realized you’d just done something you’d never done for anyone else (and for what? He didn’t get why you liked him, when you were so pure). It clicked for him that he’d been doing every single thing on the road just because he wanted to get it over with and get back home to see you every once and awhile. Jeff loved wrestling— but he was beginning to think something topped that.

You began to sweat it, feeling tinier under his unwavering gaze and silence.

“I should probably… get back to work before Mr. Willow sees me messin’ around. Just don’t start a fight, okay—?” You had no idea what was going through Jeff’s head, so you half expected this whole messy encounter to end with him bursting into laughter or something.

It didn’t, of course.

Jeff could feel the words 'I love you,’ on the tip of his tongue - just thinking them making him feel lightheaded and overwhelmed - but all that came out instead was a casual invitation.

“Alright. But, before you go… I was wonderin’ if you wanted to visit my house tomorrow? I have an extra day off this week,” He’d forgotten to mention that. “And after tonight I have to hear more of that song.”

You searched his eyes for humor, but there was none, only sincerity.

“If you want, I could even play some guitar for you, if you have a tune in mind—”

“I-I don’t really write instrumental, I just hear it in my head,” You stammered, operating on some sort of reflex; it wasn’t sinking in that he was actually inviting you to his h o m e.

Just you and him.

“That’s okay. I can play by ear if you hum it for me.”

Oh my god.

“Uhm… if it’s alright with you… I suppose?” What you were saying didn’t at all match the panic inside; you didn’t even think you could sing for him again - let alone have some jam session in his 'humble abode’.

Jeff was just smiling that subtle smile all the while, though, and it was like nothing could get you to come up with a miraculous excuse like you always had when he pushed your buttons.

“Course it’s alright with me, do you want my address or do you want me to pick you up?”

You blinked, feeling dumb.

“I can drive over, I’d feel bad otherwise,” you laughed nervously. It was too late to go back now, and hell, if you chickened out of singing (you thought you might) you’d at least have your car to run to.

Jeff felt truly surprised that he didn’t have to further convince you - not that he was complaining. He felt a wave of relief that you actually wanted to spend more time with him; after all, the two of you had never actually hung out outside of Willow’s.

That was a crime, in his book.

Early the next morning you awoke to the realization that you were supposed to meet at Jeff’s house in a little less than an hour.

The need to arrive on time surged through your veins; that was a trait since you’d had the responsibility to be punctual at all— and that alone was what was getting your limbs to get moving.

You had hardly gotten any sleep the night before due to livid thoughts that somehow you’d end up making a fool of yourself and never be able to face Jeff again.

God, the dramatics only made you annoyed with yourself.

It was a constant back and forth— and apparently the morning was no different, but you were still getting ready without fail. Brushed your teeth twice because you lost track of what you were doing, but you were getting there. You threw on a pair of soft shorts and short sleeve band-T, under no impression that your 'jam session’ would require any sort of dress up or fancy business.

You enjoyed being comfortable on weekends.

Also, maybe wearing your favorite band would serve as a good luck charm; so you jogged out to your car and headed on over to the so-called, Hardy compound.

Jeff hadn’t been pulling your leg when he said you might have trouble finding his house — thankfully, he’d provided good pointers and once you found the path it was easy breezing. You liked the sound of dirt under your wheels and the rustic scenery of the forest was unfamiliar, yet intriguing… even more so when you broke from the dense forest into the well groomed grasses of the front yard.

You wouldn’t think there would be such nice properties hidden back here.

Just as you twisted your key and turned off the car, the front door to the house swung open; you thought maybe Jeff had heard or seen you pull up, but the man you saw in the doorway was a vaguely-known face.

It was Matt, the brother you’d only seen on the TV’s; Jeff had said he was never around to be introduced at the bar because he was always at home with his kids. That put him in a good light, so you hopped out of your car and started walking up to the doorway.

“I’ll pick you up for the air port tomorrow then,” Matt said, turning around and smiling when he noticed you approaching. You returned it awkwardly, raising a hand to wave.

“Ah, you must be Y/N. Sorry this is the first time we’re meeting,” He held out a hand to shake, “Jeff’s talked about you a lot, so I kinda feel like I know you.”

You huffed a laugh, glad to take the firm hand shake.

“He talkin’ trash about me, I bet.” You jested, and Matt gave you a chuckle.

“Yeah, the most trash I’ve ever heard him talk about a gal.”

Jeff surfaced at the door then, slightly flustered as if he’d ran to the door and tried to slow himself right as he opened it.

“Y/N! I didn’t know you were here, you should'a rang,”

Matt gave you a pat on the shoulder, grinning back at his brother.

“My fault. I was just introducing myself, cause someone never got around to doing it.” Matt suggested that he wanted to have met you sooner— and supposing Jeff had so casually invited you over to his house, you almost wondered why you hadn’t.  

“We’ve been… busy,” Jeff dismissed, stepping out so he was a bit closer. He looked guilty.

“Yeah yeah, well, I hope to see more of you whenever we’re all in town, Y/N. Maybe then Jeff will talk less trash about you.” Matt still flashed his pearly whites and left you with a wink and a thumbs up, slightly jerked in Jeff’s direction. He knew something you didn’t.

Jeff gestured you into the house, trying his best to ignore whatever he could feel Matt teasing about.

(Jeff had spilled a lot of beans to his brother about his feelings for you, anyway.)

The inside of the house - or really - mansion, was just as grand as the outside. Nice, high ceilings, clean floors, staircases, and splashes of color from large, mounted paintings around the walls.

You approached one of the pieces without thinking, air-tracing along the thick black lines of what looked to be several faces melting together.

You were simultaneously fascinated and indifferent about the bright pink eyes staring back at you as you spoke.

“Where are these guys from?” You weren’t sure if you were referring to the faces in this one piece or to the many more on the various other paintings; Jeff answered both.

“My imag-i-nation, I'suppose.” Jeff rubbed his neck, unsure if you liked them or not.

“I paint in my spare time.” He extended.

Stepping back and gaping at him, you followed him into the next room, under the open archway.

“You did all these?”

“…Yep, I would explain what they all mean, but even I’m not sure about some of them,”

“Open for interpretation then.” You reassured, eyes trailing from his dashing smile to a half painted canvas leaning against the wall. “I’ve dabbled in art myself.”

Jeff tilted his head, grabbing at the neck of his guitar.

“Seriously?”

You paused.

“No. I’m a terrible artist. In like… every way.”

Jeff laughed and you did too, though your buzzing died off as Jeff took a seat on the couch arm rest just a couple feet from where you were sitting. His guitar rested on his legs, nestled against him as he tuned it subtly.

“Nothing wrong with that. If you were some amazin’ artist then you’d be way too perfect and I’d go thinkin’ you’re not real or something.”

That sentence got you feeling giddy inside, but you just scratched the bridge of your nose and weren’t sure what to say.

“You ready to grace me with more of your lyrics, darlin’?”

Jeff sure was laying it on thick with the compliments and pet names— not that he’d never used those, but you were on edge as it were and him being all… cute about everything was only making it worse. And he was staring at you. And you had no other customers to glance at or run off to now.

It finally settled in how nervous he always made you feel; before now you had always just had distractions that helped you deny that.

“I… I forgot the words..?”

No, dumbass, you had the words right in your hands — you were gripping tight to the notebook you always left in your car. Jeff’s eyes flickered to the familiar article but he didn’t antagonize you.

“I’m sure you’ve got jitters. We could start with you just humming a tune for me to follow, then maybe I’ll get some singin’ outta you again,” His tone was soft, encouraging not pushing. You eventually got to actually creating sound… singing the words in your mind but only letting the notes of them vibrate through your closed lips.

Jeff picked up quickly, and soon enough the hums transmuted into crisp guitar plucks; even sooner those mentally spoken words attached to said notes were spilling out of you … and you didn’t quite get that moment of clarity till Jeff had shifted down from the arm rest to the cushion right next to you and overlapped his lower voice with your’s as you sang out the last verse (you had so far).

“…If I will love then I will find, I have touched another life and that’s something,”

You swallowed thickly, peeking up only enough to see Jeff’s fingers strumming.

“…something worth leaving behind,” You sang slowly, quieter again, and your embarrassment was partially forgotten due to the mesmerization of hearing his honeyed accent echo your voice.  

He stopped his playing, planting a hand over the strings to stop them.

“How do you get me to do things I can’t even imagine doing..?” Even now you were speaking out unlike your normal self, and it was all his fault.

“How do you get me to want to do everything with you?” He rejoined, his guitar leaving your sights as he kept his body pointed toward you. You still didn’t want to look up at his face, because this didn’t feel right.

“I don’t know.” You said, honestly. Why did he always only go to you when he visited the bar? Why did he always text after matches you’d just seen?

“I do.” He murmured, his hand cautiously coming up to brush against your chin, tilting it up like he thought you’d pull away if he touched any firmer than that. He wanted to see your eyes, no matter how you would respond to this.

“You’re what keeps me goin’ when the job gets tough. You’re the one thing I hate leaving behind when I’m out on the road,” His finger tips gradually spread, and his hand danced along your jawline toward your ear as he noticed you didn’t pull away or flinch— you stayed deathly still, eyes only blinking when they had to.

“…I think I…” His fingers trailed further, twining into the roots of your hair at the back of your head. “I think I love you, Y/N.”

His face was closer now than it had ever been, but he seemed stuck at a few inches away— he wanted you to respond somehow before he went and kissed you because he wasn’t sure how he’d react once he did what he’d thought about doing so many times.

You fumbled, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue; Jeff tensed, hand slipping ever-so-slightly down the back of your neck.

“I think so too,” you breathed, but realized that sounded incorrect. “I mean— I think I love you,”

But grammar or exact comprehension aside, Jeff had gotten his response. Lips crushed against your’s, his other hand joined in to pull your face toward him. It was fast, frantic actions, yet, somehow gentle enough to feel as if you were leaning into it more than he was tugging you.

You puffed out the breath you’d been holding through your nose, and you closed your eyes tightly, lips pressing back. There was every ounce of two years of tension being unfurled in a single kiss — and then tension melted into desire once you broke apart.

“I never stop thinkin’ about you,” Jeff whispers, getting lost in your eyes as they open again. He recalls the first time you met, and the memory draws him forward to kiss you again, his hands sliding down your shoulders.

Both of you have half-lidded eyes, lips attacking one another’s while you refuse to break the eye contact; he deftly pushes you back into the soft couch, your back cozying into the pillows. He gives your lower lip a bit of a harsh bite, his tongue massaging over it in apology.

You make a tiny sound, your hand pulling softly at the base of his hair.

“Sorry,” Jeff rumbles, assuming you wanted him to be nicer. He couldn’t help it, your mouth was irresistible before and was even more so now.

“No,” You stroke his locks back, smiling sheepishly as you part your legs so he can scoot closer to your body. “I can tell you’re trying hard to be all good and gentle because you’re assuming things about me again.”

He furrows his brows, blushing with his frame pressing into your’s, his arousal prominent against your shorts.

“Don’t.” You kiss him chastely. “Do whatever your body’s telling you to do… I want it.” This time your tongue brazenly traces against his mouth, breaching and lapping against Jeff’s. You’d denied it till now, but since it was happening, you weren’t gonna let anything ruin this moment — not even Jeff’s own cautions.

“I didn’t take you to be into rough sex.” Jeff retorts, voice gruffer as he rolls his hips against you. He’s clearly liking whatever you’re insinuating, his worries going out the window.

“Well, I am not against it. And I’m not against gentle love-making either;” This was totally different, but sorta like how he’d been when he was surprised at your taste in music.

“-How’d you say it before? Variety. Variety’s good,” You were proud of your stellar memory, and starting to lose your full voice as you panted. His hips were in full motion, only making you wetter as the friction continued.  

He smirked, rolling up the bottom of your t-shirt.

“So this won’t be the last time we do this, is what you’re sayin’?” His hands continue to bring your shirt up, till you have to lift your arms to get it off.  

“That depends on how good it is.” You stifle a laugh but whimper unintentionally when he kneads one of your breasts firmly.  "All I’m saying is don’t be afraid of biting me, geez.“ Your voice sounds sassier then, and he growls, rutting into your clothed core as he leans down to nip around your collar bone, finding a spot to suck in a love mark.

In all honesty, you weren’t always the type to tease people in bed, but that back and forth dynamic had always been present with you two — that, and whatever it was doing to Jeff’s sex drive was well worth it.

“If you end up sore in the mornin’, just know you asked for it,” He promises lightly, eying the now several pinkish spots on your collar and neck that were sure to darken by tomorrow. You felt tingly, suddenly too hot in your already minimal clothing.

“Good thing I’m not working then,” You huffed, impatiently pulling at Jeff’s tank top now; it too was discarded, and things moved fast from there.

You allowed your eyes to rake over his bare skin, in awe of the details of his tattoos that you’d been missing out on. You gulped, pads of your fingers following the thin trail of hair down his abs that led to the band of his pants. He didn’t stop you.

As you rubbed him first over his underwear, you felt your heart jump at the apparent size he was packing — your palm rubbing over the thickness more when he moaned unabashedly. Your hand went into the material, adjusting his length in his pants so the tip of it stuck out of the waist band while you gave it firm, steady strokes.

He twitched, his teeth latching to the straps of your bra and pulling them down your shoulders, all before he actually slipped his hands under your back to unhook the article, hoping you’d shift your arms enough to let him get the damn thing off so he could see all of you.

As aroused as you were, somehow insecurities managed to creep up the shoulders that your straps were being tugged down. It was obvious he wanted you, and probably had for a long time (not to mention you literally had a hand in his pants), but you still managed to be blushing as you retracted your hand from his growing erection and bent your arms to slowly slip off your bra. But his eyes never left you for a moment, and by the look of his blown pupils and ever-shifting gaze, he loved every single inch of you.

“Why did it take so long for us to end up here?” Jeff rambled, sounding frustrated as he peppered kisses from your throat down to your breasts; he didn’t want an answer, because he was already grateful that you even reciprocated his feelings.

Yet, he was still going to do everything in his power to let you know just how long he’s wanted you like this.

Jeff reminded himself you didn’t mind biting.

“U-uhnf…” you whimpered, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh briefly, replaced in time with a warm, wet tongue as he circled around your perked nipples. Your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he ravished your chest, his rough hands pressed up against the curve of your back to pull you into his embrace and upright.

He leaned back against the couch, situating your trembling body onto his lap, your feet dangling off the couch.

Jeff dipped his hands right into your shorts the moment you were there, his hands going past your panties and giving your ass a nice squeeze. It shocked you, and you felt embarrassed at the startlingly erotic noise that came out.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this cute lil ass whenever you went by in your uniform.”

Your mouth hung open, and he didn’t hesitate running his fingers down your crevice, grazing your hole before coming in contact with the wetness of your pussy.

“…pervert.” You retorted late, mind wandering to where his hands were.

“Mm.” Is all he returned, bottom lip disappearing between his teeth as he eventually got you out of your shorts and panties — they were too soaked to be any use anyway. His green eyes flickered up to your’s, a couple of his fingers rubbing over your opening while his other hand groped your thigh.

“No turning back after this, baby…” Jeff rasped, all but thrusting his fingers right into you as they massaged your heat.

“Not even an option, Mr. Jeff. Stop hesitating—” The arousal on your voice caused him to lick his lips, his fingers finally penetrating and pumping into you. Your breath hitched, his movements making your walls tighten around his fingers every few thrusts because you were acutely aware of how long it had been since you last fucked anyone.

“Relax… I got ya,” Jeff cooed into your ear, fingers occasionally changing their angle or spreading when he felt you shudder. Your hips rolled down into them, though you were still hovering just above his covered erection.

You gasped, his fingers abruptly pulling out of you and working against your clit— the first time he touched your sensitive bud was with the moisture of your own arousal.

“Fuck—” you mewled, eyes fluttering shut as he switched back and forth from shallow finger-fucking to curling his fingers deeper and back to rubbing over your clit like a well-oiled machine; just as breathing began to get uneven, he lifted you off and got you lying back on the other side of the couch.

Back touching the cooler side of the couch, where Jeff had swiped off any extra pillows so you would be lying completely flat, you stared up at the beautiful man hovering over you. Even in the haze of sex, the smile he gave you was affectionate — warm, and the last you saw before he crawled down your body. First, he sat back on his calves to undo his jeans button and zipper, shimmying out of the hinderance. You started to sit up, wanting to return the pleasure he’d been giving you the past few minutes, but he clicked his tongue and lightly pushed you back down.

“Another time, sugar. Right now I’m in charge.” He drawled, eyes narrowed as he dragged his hands from the sides of your ribs down to the bend of your knees, where he spread your legs and propped one of them up on the back of the couch.

God, your toes curled at his tone, and you felt dirty and excited because of it. Jeff smirked, head going to the crux of your legs and starting with an open-mouthed kiss to your clitoris.

You hissed out a moan, the cold air of the room contrasting with the hot mouth lapping at your folds; he wiggled his tongue into your entrance, groaning lewdly at the taste of you. Long strokes and kitten licks of that talented tongue had you writhing in no time, the sensitivity making your hands push at his shoulders.

“J-Jeff… please… stop,” You cried, not wanting your first orgasm to fully hit before you two were one.

He couldn’t help giving you one last lick before he came up, a bit of a dopey smile on his face as he kissed up your stomach.

“You ready for me?” He spoke against your skin, his hips shifting uncomfortably as he withheld from touching himself.

“Been ready,” cheekily, you huffed out, though really you were dying every moment you were left exposed and feeling empty.

Jeff only grinned, planting a sloppy kiss on you.

“Impatient, ya are.”

Your noses touched, and you felt him caressing your inner thighs.

“I’ve always waited for you, I think I’ve earned being a little impatient—”

You felt something heavy against your heat, the length rubbing against you softly. It was unclear when exactly Jeff had managed to shuck off his underwear, but it was prevalent with the way you could feel the throb of his dick against you, but not quite where you needed it to be.

Your back arched and you groaned, your heels pressing into his lower back as if to get him to get the picture.

Jeff…”

The motions only ensued a moment or two longer before he reared back his hips, using one of his hands to steady himself at your opening; it was all slow-motion, and you almost couldn’t breathe at the initial push in. The head of his cock slid in relatively easy with how slick and prepped you were, but that still didn’t change how unbelievable it felt as he pushed in deeper, stretching you and making you let out a broken moan.

There was a twinge of pain at first, but by the time his full length was all the way in, you were clenching around him slightly, wanting more; your eyes had shut during the initial thrust, but they peeked open to stare up at Jeff as he caged your face in with both his hands.

Your hips lifted, grinding into him as much as you could just as you tugged his hair to kiss the air out of him; your tongues began to battle for dominance and his hips finally got to jerking into you, hard and deep.

He let you win the battle in your makeout, your tongue exploring his mouth hungrily as you both mewled into one another — your control of the kiss contrasted his control of your hips meeting and all the erotic sounds started mixing in a way that had you in a heavenly trance.

Neither of you would last very long, with you already on edge from before and him hardly getting off aside from actually being inside you, so you made it count.

Giving Jeff’s lower lip a bite like he had done to your’s, your leg shifted up his back, wanting him to take you even closer. He breathed harshly, reaching around to hook your leg and get it over his shoulder, thrusting more frantically at the new angle.

Both of you let out loud moans, eyes no longer closing and keeping your heart’s connected—

“Please… faster, mngh, J-Jeff..—” Your brows knitted together as you began to tighten around him again, the sound of skin slapping together making your blood race.

“Yes, baby… fuck… you’re so perfect,” he grunted, his hand squeezing your knee that rested against his shoulder.

“C-Come with me,” You pleaded, hardly able to speak with the way he was punching moans out of you now, pushing your body down into the couch with his motions.

“Fuckin'— fu… Y/N…” He thrusted in a few more times, ramming into your sweet spot too much for you to handle and sending you over the edge; you squeezed around his dick as you orgasmed, throwing your head back into the couch while you rode out his last couple thrusts, just before he came buried inside you.

You felt even fuller than before, and as you slowly relaxed, your leg slipping down off of him, you felt a bit of his cum seep out.

It wasn’t that either of you cared about the couch at this point, but it was just an observation.

The two of you took your time catching your breath, Jeff getting awkwardly comfortable laying his head against your chest after he pulled out. One of your arms nested under your head while the opposite hand stroked over Jeff’s sweat-soaked hair.

“…I really love you, you know that?” Jeff murmured dreamily.

You snickered, scratching over the back of his neck in comfort.

“…I think I got the picture.” You stared at his head, since he was still lying there. “I… really love you too.”

He shifted so his chin nuzzled below your collar bone, eyes up at you with pure adoration and dulled lust.

“Least now I know how I can make you sing, for sure.

Of course he still had to tease you.

You rolled your eyes, covering his face with your palm so he wouldn’t see you blush. He blew a raspberry into it, which shouldn’t have bothered you after all that had just gone down, but you withdrew your hand nonetheless in surprise.

He laughed, flashing his white teeth while he twined your fingers with his own.

“Just promise you’ll show me more of your songs next time, okay, darlin’?”

“We’ll see.” You tried being stubborn, but your voice held no malice with him looking at you that way.

“Well, I promise to continue botherin’ you at Willow’s then.” He stuck his tongue out. “And I promise that I wasn’t lyin’ when I said you never leave my mind when I’m not with you.”

After a second, you whispered back. “Trust me, you never left my mind either.”

One more smile. One more kiss. One more little chuckle. Then you were squirming out from under him, making him look at you in confusion.

“Think we can hop in the shower now?”

Now he rolled his eyes, but grabbed your hand and helped you up to lead you toward the bathroom.

“Princess can’t stand being a lil dirty for a second, huh.”

“Maybe Princess just wants to get dirty somewhere besides your couch, Mr.”

You felt his grip tighten and his steps quicken more immediately.

God, now whenever he left it would only make waiting all the more painstaking. But still… it was worth it, because you knew he’d always get back— and you never really left each other in the first place.

wes weston is such a… unique… thing? i’m not even talking about his character; i’m talking about how he became a character. i mean, i dunno about you guys, but i can’t think of any other character that came to fruition in the way he did. he’s literally a canon oc who was created by the fandom (like, the whole fandom) based on one unremarkable 2 second clip of animation. and he’s popular. but not only that; he has a defined character motive, a father who is also technically a canon character but was only on screen for about five seconds, and he’s got a distinguishable personality as well as varying relationships with other characters in the show. just… he’s such an anomaly, i almost can’t believe he exists sometimes

anonymous asked:

So would you say that vld is like.. season 1 had keith pinning over shiro while season 2 is shiro pinning over keath?

Not really haha

You pine for something you don’t have. This whole season (1-2, i just kinda look at it as one) was about how they have each other, I think.

Like, they started with them having a very strong bond and then it just got way stronger in season 2. (WAY WAYYY stronger)

The way I see it, it’s more like they are constantly surprised by just how much the other loves them and is there for them, when both of them are just completely content with what the other has given them so far and how things are right now.

Like look at Keith’s mind, he didn’t even expect Shiro sticking up for him like that and staying by his side in that situation. And he still ran after him there, still was saying “you’re like a brother to me” when Shiro wasn’t exactly acting like one towards him.

And like, Shiro in that cave, being all hard on himself and feeling like a failure, probably expecting Keith to agree with him because Keith was the person with the better ideas and smarter actions, and Keith is just “no wtf Shiro, you’re a great leader, you changed my life, you made me into what I am”

And I think both of them think more about the other for them to be selfish and want something the other might not exactly want. Like they’re the “I’m fine with everything as long as you’re happy” the “i’ll take anything you’re willing to give me” pair haha, It’s a very selfless kind of love. 

I do think they both have a very strong desire to be closer (conscious for Shiro, subconscious for Keith because he’s got walls) But notice how both of them never push for anything, they both wait patiently for the other to open up when they’re ready. (Keith about Shiro’s PTSD, Shiro about Keith and his knife) Kinda like “I would really love it if you trusted me with this, but I understand if you don’t and I’ll keep my distance and help in any other way I can”

But like I dunno, to me Shiro would be the only pinning one, because I think Keith is just in complete awe Shiro has stuck with him for so long as it is haha, he probably can’t even imagine there might be even more, he’s just scared of losing what they already have.

And that’s the thing, I think they just really really appreciate the relationship they already have, so for them to always kinda find out like “oh wait there’s even more??” is definitly a nice surprise, but not something they would expect or need in any way, simply because they’re mostly just content with what they do have, and what the other has already done for them. Like, I think they’re both like “oh it would be nice if…but It’s ok if not” when it comes to eachother.

That’s the way I see it atleast.

drew some designs for teen AJ and Rarity, they’re like 14 or 15 I don’t know. Can’t even tell if they really look like teens but whatever.  Don’t let that smile decieve you, they are experimenting an endlessly suffering right now, they hate the world and themselves.

AJ is a ridiculously tall girl with a lot of insecurities who feels like she can’t fit at all and wish she would have a more “common” body. She just, doesn’t know what is wrong with her and why she isn’t like the other girls who are feminine and crush on cute boys and such. She also wish she was invisible so other students would quit looking at her or judging everything she does

Rarity cries over boys like, all the time, while dealing with her thousand insecurities about her body, her glasses, her brackets, her existence… She wants to be popular but she can’t because she looks like a nerd and you know want happens to nerds in high school. Rarity tries to make herself stand out, but fails miserably, and it’s like, highly ignored or laughed at

I’m still not sure if they should know each other. They could be like girls in different classes who deal alone with the daily shit of high school .Maybe they just have their school lockers together, or even barely walk past each other, I dunno… What do you think? Any suggestions on what their interactions could be like?? :0

happy (belated) valentine’s day, @autiacora. i hope this is canon fluffy enough for you (but you know, with a touch of ack flavored sadness™ snuck in there too). thank you for being here and contributing to such a great community. you’re a joy. <3


lemons and bellflowers

The Survey Corps had been traveling for several days. They were meant to subjugate an abandoned castle between Utopia and Karanes Districts, however it had fallen out of too much disrepair from wandering titans that they had to move onto one that sat on the outskirts of Utopia. It must have been over half a decade since it was last used, but its stone walls still held up strong against years of weathering. Some rotten doors had to be knocked down, and mounds of decaying leaves had to be shoveled out, but in the end they had all worked together to get it into good working order. And all up to Levi’s standards, nonetheless.

However, Levi wouldn’t let anybody, especially Erwin, enter the commanding office until every cobweb was cleaned from the corners of the room and every finger print washed away from the windows. It smelled like lemons and vinegar, both considered luxuries in the Corps, but ingredients that Erwin managed to sneak into the quarterly budgets. A happy Humanity’s Strongest brought along with it positive scout moral, after all. And keeping a clean working space for his commander was one thing that made him very happy.

Or as happy as Levi could ever appear.

Keep reading

I wonder if it’s obvious to the teachers how little money I have if whenever we talk about food I always go for “what’s the cheapest, most filling option, that will also have enough for leftovers” or anything about money is “save it”

i love so much the dynamic between reigen, mob, and serizawa - of reigen being the boss and leader of mob and serizawa, two of the most powerful espers in the world, while being completely powerless himself. they both listen to him, and care for him, and respect him, and he listens and cares and respects right back, and he treats them humanly and keeps them both grounded even though there’s this huuuuge power difference between them all that by all means should flip the roles and would have in any other story other than mob psycho 

i dunno, theres just smthn really satisfying about that, about reigen being powerless yet also being the one the powerful rely on 

7. Chocolate // Nurseydex

« {Part 7 of my Valentine’s collection.} »

a/n: Written in part for Nursey Week. I used prompt 1, “Mistake”. Slight nsfw themes in this one.

“Oh, shit.”

Dex heard Nursey swear from the kitchen, sighed, and shut his laptop. This couldn’t be good.

“You okay?” Dex called, getting up from the green couch. “You didn’t drop the cookies or something, did you?”

He walked into the kitchen and saw Nursey, standing next to the counter, holding a burst piping bag and absolutely covered in chocolate icing. He looked a little stunned. Dex couldn’t help but laugh. Of all the many mistakes Nursey had made since Dex had known him, this one definitely ranked up in Dex’s top five favorites.

“What did you do?” Dex snickered. “It’s in your hair, how the fuck did you even get it there?”

“Uh,” Nursey said. He put down the broken bag. “I guess—I guess I just squeezed the bag too hard.”

The icing was on Nursey’s face, his hands, his neck, and his arms, but most of it had made its way onto his shirt. “You should probably deal with that,” Dex suggested. He pointed at Nursey’s chest. “You know, before it stains.”

“Oh, yeah,” Nursey said. He started unbuttoning his shirt.

Keep reading