#Couple Sentiments

[estah]

dinner with our besties 🍽️💖

[her-penetrating-soul]

🤍❉ℒℴνℯ্᭄͜͡♥︎

[arta-enigmaticei]

Let me bring my brightest star to your darkest skyline, where nobody touched u before.

@arta-enigmaticei

[printerinksoda]

it makes me so sad when people who are watching/reading dungeon meshi for farcille find the early chapters/episodes boring. yes of course farcille fuckin rules but you dont like the mollusk living armor? the hermit crab mimics? snip snip :(?

[zimt-deathnote]

Oh wow now they're slow dancing to oldies playing in another room on a rooftop at the mafia wedding someone help, can they never stop dancing please

now I kinda want a jazz oldies playlist with animated snippets of those two looping in the background

----- My other socials Commission Info Let's drink some Ko-Fi! 🍵

[coldshrugs]

happy starlight from io and estinien ✨🎄

[plaguedoctormemes]

“But what if one of or both halves of the seemingly cishet couple at pride are passing or closeted bi or trans!” how about we shut the fuck up and stop headcannoning Jessica and Nathan’s theoretical orientations because cishets at pride that are attending in earnestness will not give a shit whether or not i decide to show up in fishnets and kiss and hug my friends and serve bisexual trans goth realness. Them being around does not hinder my endeavors whatsoever. If they had a problem they wouldnt show up or just leave. The only people that would be baffled at gay and trans people being at the gay and trans event are other gay and trans people that think there is a “right” way to be gay and trans

[lunarrampage]

Me in avernus with my pookie Karlach and Wyll ready to destroy that fuckass archdevil with my bare hands

[cfffrk]

WW2 AU

PART 1

(+2scetches)

One September day, B. Wooster found out about Jeeves' disappearance from Aunt Dahlia's telegram.

Early summer of 1940. Bertram Wooster was completing his studies at an aviation school. At the same time his faithful valet, Jeeves, temporarily went to the service of the already mentioned relative at Brinkley Court and became the second jewel in the staff of servants besides the highly talented cook Anatole.

Due to the straitened financial situation of Uncle Tom, who complained more and more about the increasing taxes, the dearest aunt had to take forced measures and fire a few servants. She wanted to make a small sacrifice, and it might have been enough if one day her stingy husband had not cut the already small wages of the remaining servants. Many of them had applied for dismissal after that, and they were quite understandable.

This radical decision, although to a lesser extent, also affected Jeeves. Nevertheless, he continued to be a professional. He fulfilled his basic duties and often helped her, and her old friends get out of troubles.

Within a few months of Jeeves' work, they had become friends. Bertram almost felt like a third wheel in this idyll when he came to visit and boast of his achievements. Aunt Dahlia treasured her new valet and his unrivalled intelligence, and often jokingly promised in letters to her nephew that Jeeves would be returned safe and sound.

That was why she was seriously worried when Jeeves went missing. One clear day in early September, an elderly relative had let him go to London on his own business. In addition to this, it was Jeeves' duty to check on their good old Berkeley Mansions flat from time to time and keep it clean, so he planned to finish his business by evening and stay in the city overnight. He was supposed to return early the next morning. But that never happened. Not in two days. Not in three.

That night London was bombarded.

Something seemed to snap and collapse inside Bertie when he learnt that the search for Jeeves had been fruitless. Neither his relatives nor his club could shed any light on his mysterious disappearance.

The dark thoughts from which Bertram had fled during the day caught up with him at night. He would toss and turn on the hard bed, thinking of Jeeves's fate and replaying happy memories of their past, and in the daytime, tired and broken, he would give his duty to his country.

The whole situation seemed strange and unreal to him. The only thing that was found out for sure was that no one appeared in the apartment that miraculously survived the monstrous raids that day. It was dusty.

A couple of months had passed since the tragedy that divided Bertie's life into before and after. The war continued. He was learning to adjust to his new reality.

Sometimes he managed to carve out some free time and pop into London for a bit. The city where he had lived more than a third of his life was in ruins. The familiar places where he used to meet his friends and have a good time were empty.

Your humble servant avoided going into that very flat. There were too many vivid memories of that place, which painfully and mercilessly squeezed Bertram Wooster's poor skull. Indeed, the most precious person in his life had been living at his side all that time.

But still, as the sole and responsible owner of his property, he had to overpower himself. He had to go in and make sure that everything was all right. And one such day Bertie found himself there, in their former cozy home.

He walked in and looked around the living room: a layer of dust covering almost everything, furniture wrapped in covers, and only a few of his own things that he had left or forgotten here. The piano was covered with a cloth. Unbearably quiet and lifeless. There was nobody else to keep order here, nobody else's hand to create the home comfort. Sorrowful feelings pressed upon his chest.

He looked all over the flat. Almost all of it. There was only one room left to check.

After a moment's hesitation, Bertram pulled himself together and went into Jeeves's room. He had only glimpsed it from inside before. It was modest and not as spacious as his bedroom. Wooster sat down on the perfectly made bed, looking at what little was left of his dear friend, guide, and philosopher. His eyes rested on the various books dusting the shelves and cupboards.

He recognized one of them. It was the volume of Spinoza's writings he had given Jeeves for his birthday. No doubt Jeeves had read it all. As the rest of the books in the room. Bertie remembered his politely grateful smile and how he had clearly decided that this fellow deserved a whole library of those Spinozas.

He got out of bed. The code of the Woosters did not allow him to touch other people's things (even if those things belonged to a man who might never come back into his life), but something outweighed the young master's unwavering principles that day.

He didn't even notice how he left the flat with the book in his hands.

Of course, this sort of talisman invariably occupied a place in his suitcase. Though he had endeavored to handle the book with care, it had become tattered with the passage of time. Bertram often held it in his hands, flicked through the pages, ran his eyes over the neat pencil notes of its former owner. It calmed him a little in the most difficult moments of his pilot practice. He didn't understand anything about philosophy, but he treasured this book too damn much.

When they reunited, they were about a year away from the end of the war. The house with their previous flat was in a state of emergency damaged by the recent bombing raids, so Jeeves looked for a new flat for them while his employer was still undergoing treatment.

It happened some time later after their move-in. Jeeves was doing his household chores while the young master followed him around and chattered about anything that came into his head. It would have annoyed anyone, but not Jeeves.

You see, he had been abroad for a long time. However, he was not on holiday. Against his will, he was assigned important tasks and missions which he had to fulfil if he did not want to lose his freedom, his successful career, his reputation, his family, and friends. The special promise of making one particular person's life unbearable also left him no choice.

Every day, Jeeves felt like he was sitting on a powder keg: at any moment, a surprise inspection could come through the doors of his headquarters. A highly undesirable event for a man who kept fake documents, weapons, and encrypted data transmission devices in his flat. But all possible escape routes had been carefully worked out and memorized: Jeeves was always prudent. Otherwise, he had to have time to take a special pill before he found himself tied to a chair in a small interrogation room.

Keeping his charm and politeness, he was effective in getting the right information from the right people. His knowledge of psychology and accumulated experience of working with people helped him in this.

Jeeves' missions were rarely close to failure. His life depended on it.

The slightest mistake could have been fatal to him. Of course, he had learned much about the country during his training to pass for a typical Frenchman. His French had been practically flawless even before, which only made his life easier. But still somewhere in the back of his mind was the fear that he would be exposed for the smallest inaccuracy.

Jeeves lived under a false identity with a fake life story. He changed outwardly and inwardly. His gait, the way he spoke, his body language, his facial expressions. He had complete control over his body. Especially his gaze, which could tell a lot about his thoughts. It was exhausting.

After a long time of living in this way, he began to have trouble sleeping: he slept very little and sensitively or could not fall asleep at all.

He rarely had any dreams during the restless hours when he was able to fall asleep. Sometimes he had nightmares. But they were not about him. They were about Mr Wooster. Same scenario: church, flowers, closed coffin. Then it would slowly open from the inside. And Jeeves would wake up in a cold sweat.

On sleepless nights, he was also tormented by thoughts of his former employer. Where was he now? Was he all right? Was he even alive? How did he feel about his disappearance? Would he want to see him again...?

Jeeves felt his mind, which he relied on in the most critical situations, begin to fail.

Meeting his employer again and doing the household chores for him, he felt himself slowly getting his head in order. He was enjoying the much-anticipated company of Mr Wooster. It soothed him and made him feel at home.

Jeeves opened the closet to put the ironed clothes in it. The young master standing next to him had been lost in the chatter and missed the moment when he should have pulled him back. In the next moment Jeeves had pulled the ruined book out of the wardrobe the same way as he pulled out foreign clothes. By the title of the book, he thought at first that his master was interested in serious literature. But on closer look and leafing through the book, he realized that it was his own.

Bertie watched it silently with his eye wide open. He couldn't just get rid of it, but at the same time he was ashamed to return a book in such a terrible condition to its owner. He planned to buy the exact same one soon, but until then, this volume of essays would be safely hidden away. But here his innocent secret was revealed. Jeeves looked at him with a silent question in his eyes.

He tried to justify himself, but this particular Wooster was a bad liar. Especially when the pent-up feelings were starting to overwhelm him. Jeeves often let his employer fool him about little things, but they both knew very well that it was actually impossible to do this. A couple of precise laconic remarks and B. Wooster found himself disarmed. He took a breath of air and began to speak.

Jeeves listened patiently to his poor master with a mask of calmness pulled over his face and dared not interrupt.

He was sorry. He was deeply sorry for the pain he had caused Mr Wooster and his dear people by his forced departure. However, Jeeves spoke little and reluctantly about what he had been doing in recent years and did not tell anyone about the very reasons for his disappearance. This information could have caused a lot of trouble.

And Bertram realized it. His Jeeves could not just disappear for no reason, he was sure of it. But sometimes, in the deep sleepless night, a wild guess would cross his weary mind. What if Jeeves had run away, had simply abandoned him? Of course, Bertie had scolded himself for such thoughts in the mornings then. And today when Jeeves prepares breakfast for him, reminds him to take his medicine, and helps him to dress, that idea seems to him on the verge of sanity. But then he was quite capable of finding irrefutable evidence in all sorts of little things. At that time, he did not know what to think: the search for the injured had ended, Jeeves remained on the list of missing persons.

Bertram stood before him and could find no more words. But words were no longer needed. Jeeves looked at him with bright, penetrating eyes and the silence that settled in the room was filled with peace. Jeeves was truly touched. He felt a huge boulder fall from his soul.

It seemed now, as his employer lowered his head dejectedly and hid his wet eyes from him, they had the perfect moment to dot the «i».

It's been a long day.

Of course, this book stayed in their new flat and became a symbol of something important for them. Bertram, Jeeves' poor love, had indeed taken desperate measures then.

However, Jeeves pointed out that such measures would no longer be necessary.

For now, he would be there for him. He came back.

[fixedteacup]

"The last thing she saw on earth was him."

iwtv 2.7 || hannibal 2.13

[maniclunar]

you're a stranger to this town

[ships-n-bats]

I still absolutely love how Wolfwalkers ended.

Love that it still ultimately focused on Robyn and Mebh and how they leave their old world behind to find a new one, just for them, their parents, and the wolf family to live in peace, far away from the townspeople. How after all that drama and near-death experiences, they just get to rest in the caravan, protected by their respective parent and live together in the forest.

No more societal expectations. No more gender roles. No need to appease a bunch of people who really only want them dead for what they are. No focus on these two literal children to change a town’s whole mindset like so many other films do. No, the message was just these two girls finding their happy ending with their loved ones somewhere else and just cutting out that toxic environment all together.

Why waste energy trying to help a bunch of people they don’t even have any real attachment to, after all? Especially with people who actively forced roles they didn’t want onto them and mistreated them for being different? It’s just such a breath of fresh air to see a film that ends with the characters finding happiness and peace in their own little slice of heaven, rather than wasting time, energy, and emotions on trying to change others.

[her-penetrating-soul]

"Only the wind knows where it will carry our dandelion souls."

-a.r. asher-

[qubitos]

the letter mike wrote and left at the crow altar :') he changed it a bit after i took these pics (the second page no longer says "Ass. Mike," but rather "CAW CAWWWWW") but oh well. my attempt at translation under the cut

The Crows.

The crow, in some cultures, can represent death or rebirth.

Here I immortalize the brave warriors that fought by my side on the island of Purgatory.

Sadly, they are not here with me, but I will carry them forever in my heart.

Signed, Mike [later changed to CAW CAWWWW as previously stated]

I will always remember you:

-Aldo

-Gabe

-Goularte

-Seapeekay

-Wuant

[levis-nut-dump]

~Finding you~

Description: Did Levi make it home from the mission?

Eight Months. That's how long this expedition has lasted. It's the longest to separate you and Levi since you two started dating. Dating humanity's strongest soldier you knew there was always a possibility of him being taken from you by death. Still, usually, he was soon back in your arms, reassuring you that he would always come back to you. You longed to hear those reassuring words as you stood behind the people on the city streets, waiting for the scouts to parade by on the horses, praying to whatever God out there that it was a successful one. It's been eight months. You're smart enough not to mix stupidity with hopefulness; there are bound to be casualties. "Just please don't let one be him." you thought.

The sound of horses clopping filled your ears and your eyes darted to the left. Your heart pounded out of your chest and your mind ran wild. Getting on your toes wasn't enough to help you see so you started to make your way through the rough crowd, apologizing for every stepped foot and bumped shoulder. Then, the crowd went silent and all that filled the air was a woman's scream. "My son! My sweet boy!" she cried. This urged you to move faster.

By the time you made it to the front, you'd heard six blood-curdling screams from six different people; your hope had almost run out. Erratic, you started running in front of Scout's horses. "Excuse me! I'm Ca-" she rode right past you. Why wouldn't she? She doesn't know you. No one in the scouts did; Levi expressed the importance of not getting close and personal with any of his colleagues taking into account that their time on this earth is never promised to stretch to the next day.

Her rejection doesn't stop you from finding out the truth. "Excuse me! I was wondering of you know the status of Captain Levi? Ackerman? Please?" This man ignored you too, though, it wasn't on purpose. This man was simply traumatized with that thousand yard stare most of the soldiers had.

You cut your losses trying to talk to the other scouts. You started running down the line shouting his name like a lunatic, you didn't care you just wanted to know he was safe. That's all that matters.

"Levi! Levi, please be okay!" you shout, running through the parade of trauma.

Finally, you hear a voice you started to worry you would never hear again. "(Y/N)?!" Levi shouted.

"Levi!" you shout again, still running. You blinked and before you opened them there were a pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around you. You stood trying to catch your breath, but it wasn't until he sniffed your hair, held the back of your head with one hand, and sighed, that you were able to breathe.

You hugged Levi tightly. "Levi I was so worried. You were gone so long." you cried.

"I tell you every time. No matter the weather, no matter the famine, no matter the titan. Nothing will keep me from coming home from you." Levi said.

He broke from the hug to get a good look at you. There were a handful of times out there when he thought he'd never see you again, but he'd never compromise your peace and tell you that so instead, he gives you a long kiss on your forehead. "There wasn't a second you left my mind (Y/N)."

"I thought about you every day." you replied.

Levi smiled and looked down at his clothes. "I'm embarrassed every time coming home and realizing how disgusting I am the first time seeing you for so long." he said.

You laughed. "How about a bath together. Then we can make dinner." you suggest

"That sounds like heaven on earth."

The both of you made your way home that afternoon, feeling whole for the first time in eight months.

[hiyyihrts]

the fact that people will willfully ignore all of the queer related topics and struggles the young teenage characters of heartstopper talk about/touch on while being explained in a manner that people of all ages can understand in favor of obsessing over the ‘lack of sex’ in the show genuinely baffles me. Idk how you view this show and come away stark raving mad over a coming of age queer show for young adults.