I was watching Attack on Titan with a friend then after watching this scene she paused it and she told me “Levi was jealous”, then she explained me: before Eren’s hand reaches Erwin, Levi sits there like searching for attention. So yep LEVI WAS JEALOUS!
Post-titans headcanon that Hange is in awe of all the colours in the natural world but Levi keeps referring to all of them as some kind of prime colour like any shade of yellow is just ‘pale green’ or ‘very pale green’ or ‘green after a few drinks’, and Hange gets so frustrated and by the end of the fourth day beyond the walls she’s just flailing at flowers like explain this one short-ass, it’s the orange-est orange I’ve ever seen and he looks her dead in the eyes and says ‘sun red’ and for the first time Hange is rendered truly speechless and 1000% done by Levi and tbh this is so beautiful in my mind.
Hello my lovely followers, fanfic readers, anime obsessed ect…..
I said it. I am ashamed for not writing but my friend got me into Attack on Titan and it all went downhill for me there •-• but Attack on Titan can be added to the list of FanDoms in which imagines I shall do.
Now that school has started up again (yip-fucking-pee)
So not only is it 1:30 am on a school night, my body asking for sleep, my head refusing. I just drank a juice box
I really want another one.
And I shall post as many request as I can tomorrow…. Again….
READER-CHAN I AM SORRY FORGIVE ME
AU where Eren is touch starved and just wants a lot of physical affection (platonic or otherwise) but doesn’t want to come of as clingy or needy. When Levi finds out he just accepts it wordlessly and takes to stroking or petting Eren all the time, and Eren can’t help but feel some deep ache within him soothed by the actions.
I’ve been incubating this idea for a long time … I am a big fan of reincarnation AUs for my poor, tortured Shingekis. I was inspired to finally get off my butt and put the idea I’ve been sitting on into words two nights ago, when Riema said something on Twitter about reincarnated Jean being afraid of fire. So kudos for the kick I needed to stop stalling on this fic!
Apologies for the pain. There’s an awful lot of the wistful kind. Also apologies for the fact I haven’t really proofed this yet, so if there are any typos, please bare with me. I’ll fix ‘em up soon.
I promise Droplets will happen soon, but in the meantime, enjoy this. :^)
Fic Summary: It’s a curse to remember, but it’s torture to be the only one who does.
One day, Jean wakes up, and it isn’t normal. It, his breathing, the universe, the way the world spins when he plants both feet on the floor and tries to haul himself out of bed. It’s the same feeling as being at sea for a long time and forgetting what it means to walk on land. Everything seems to sway, as if he can still feel the ebb and flow of waves beneath his feet, even though he has never seen the ocean in his life.
He remembers a different time, a different place, different people, and a different boy.
Eren dragged Levi out to go shopping, mainly because his jeans are so worn out that they wouldn’t even pass for ‘distressed’ anymore. Also because Eren hates shopping alone (he can’t really ward of sales assistants off, and Levi is really good at that), and honestly he does want to know his boyfriend’s opinion on some of his sartorial choices.
Levi had been his usual and apathetic self throughout the trip, but suddenly a glint appeared in his eye and he all but dragged Eren into a denim store, looked around, picked a few jeans and threw them at his surprised boyfriend. Not knowing what to do about the sudden change in attitude, Eren just huffed a little sigh and went to try the jeans out.
As it turns out, Levi had magic eyes or something, because most of the jeans were a perfect fit, and Eren went ahead to purchase a pair since there was some discount offer going on. Satisfied with his objective completed, he glanced over to Levi, who had a rather smug expression on his face.
“…Not that I’m complaining that you helped me pick these jeans and all but, what’s that look on your face for?” he asked warily.
Levi just smirked wider, hand darting out to pull Eren forward. Pale fingers curled into the soft fabric of his T-shirt, and Eren felt hot breath against his ears as Levi spoke into his ear, “Eren, you just bought Levi’s jeans."
Eren flushed bright red, and scrambled out of the store to look at the headboard, earning a few curious glances from the sales assistants. He glared at Levi half-heartedly, and huffed.
"Seriously? All this so you could have your name on my butt?"
Pairing(s): Jean/Marco (and others to be decided!) Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Wordcount: 7809 (so far) Summary: If only Jean Kirschtein was normal. If only he didn’t have to run for his life in order to keep his existence a secret from people who want him dead. If only he could focus purely on his current mission of helping save the world against monstrous Titans instead of the boy with freckles dusting his face who’s decided to come along for the ride.
note: I’m back! I’ve been talking about this au for a while but t oday’s the day that I angrily push it off my metaphorical desk and into the world. I’ve always been a sucker for superhero aus so h ere I am..starting my own. I may soon come to regret this. I’d love it if you’d check it out and tell me what you think!
The first time she says
it, it’s whispered between peppered kisses and feather-light touches and the
moon beyond the window hangs high and bright enough to illuminate the whole
She is messy in her
touches, fingers splaying over the back of his neck, tickling the short, sharp
hair at his nape and her lips are sloppy where they smooth over the skin of his
cheeks, and every grunt and huff that Levi gives is supposed to be irate, irked
at the lave of her tongue against his jaw but he’s too busy fighting the smile
pulling at the corners of his mouth to put too much effort in his animosity.
Hange pulls back with one
last kiss to his mouth - the kind of barely-there kiss that hovers against his
lips, short and soft and not nearly enough – and sets just enough distance
between them to look him in the eye.
Levi’s face is flushed,
just a little, enough for the moonlight to catch the pink tinge where it spreads
over the bridge of his nose, and there’s a jagged, uneven line where Hange’s
fingers have unsettled the hair that should be parted neatly over his crown. He
lets out one long, slow breath and licks his lips, face set in a pinched kind
of scowl, taut at the edges like he’s trying not to let it slip into something
that might suggest he isn’t as disgusted as he’s pretending to be.
“Cute,” she says, hoarse and
whispered in the late hour and Levi’s blush darkens, brows pulling so low Hange
can barely see his eyes and she chuckles, leans close to kiss him again.
The palm that spreads
over her spine is hesitant, at first, teasing the fabric of her shirt just
enough to tickle the skin beneath and then it settles, heavy and pressing, and
Hange lets him guide her until she is pressed flush against him.
She feels more than hears
it, the soft “I love you,” that Levi
presses into her mouth. It’s nothing new; he’s said it before and she has too,
more so, but there’s something in the softness of it that hitches her breath in
Levi sighs out through
his nose, warm air billowing slow and steady over her cheek and Hange’s chest
fills with some painful kind of affection, strong and winding and it claws up
her throat and forces words from her tongue.
It’s quiet, so quiet Levi
almost misses it between the heave of her breath in his mouth and the high,
grinding squeak of the mattress as the springs shift beneath the press of them,
but when the words finally register he nudges at her shoulders to force a
little space between them.
“Don’t die,” she says
again, leans down and presses long, open-mouthed kisses across his jaw and down
his neck. “Please.”
There isn’t much he can
think to say; it’s a promise she knows he can’t make and maybe that’s why she
doesn’t ask him to, but there’s something more insistent in the weight of her
as she settles heavier onto his chest, and when she finally kisses his lips
again the tongue that pushes between his teeth is something like demanding.
She doesn’t mention it
the next morning, even after Levi finds the nerve to bring it up. Instead she
brushes it off, blames it on sleep-deprivation, on schemes and experiments and
the late hour and maybe Levi would believe her.
Maybe he’d believe her,
but when 1am rolls around and the bed sheets are pulled to their chins, shutters
drawn and shrouded in darkness, she says it again. Breathes it into the pillow
like a prayer.