#I will be stewing on this for the whole week

[rhyslarsenlover]

Pretty pls a request for Rafe 🥹🥹

You and Rafe fought bad over something: maybe becux he’s being emotionally unavailable, or he’s working too much, or you’ve both just been busy and out of synch. But you have a bad fight and it’s seems like it may be the end of you both.

You get in your car to leave and rafe holds himself back from stopping you Bec he’s so angry and thinks maybe you both need to cool off.

And as the hours go by he doesn’t think much of it and drinks his whiskey until he gets a phone call from the police, he was your emergency contact, not your own family but him. You had been in a car wreck, your car totalled.

Rafe rushes to the hospital to see you and apologises and begs you To never leave him again.

Sorry i wrote the whole plot! You can change everything if you want! I’m just desperate for rafe angst 😭🙏🏼

SUNDAY MORNINGS

cw: very angsty... thank u anon for this idea, i been cryingggg lmao.

sunday mornings had always belonged to them. no matter how bad the week was, no matter how loud the fights or heavy the silences, sunday mornings were sacred. pancakes burning on the stove, flour on the countertops, giggles echoing through hallways. rafe remembered it as clear as day, it was their first night together and that next morning she had awoken him to the scent of fresh fruit and syrup. it became their ritual shortly after, and even with the arrival of their daughter it continued. a cacophony of y/n’s and their daughter’s little squeals of laughter as rafe twirled them both around the kitchen. those mornings had been theirs, they were messy, beautiful, whole.

he thought about it now as he ran through the hospital corridors, heart hammering against his ribs so hard it hurt. they had fought before she left. stupid things, words neither of them meant, pride too thick to swallow down. she had slammed the door, and he had stayed behind, stewing in anger he didn’t know how to put out, reaching for the bottle of whiskey on the counter instead of reaching for her.

he didn’t even remember the drive over, didn’t remember parking, didn’t feel the broken skin on his knuckles from where he punched the steering wheel. when the call came in, when someone found her collapsed on the sidewalk, rafe had been half-drunk, half-mad, not even realizing how much time had passed. all he knew now was that she was here, somewhere, and she needed him.

when he burst into her room, she was awake, barely. her body was swallowed up by the hospital bed, machines beeping in a way that didn’t sound hopeful. a blood clot, they said. the doctors were trying their best, but he could see the pity in their eyes. they didn’t seem hopeful. she smiled so softly when she saw him. a thought crossed his mind of how beautiful she always looked, even now with tubes sticking out of her. she was so perfect.

rafe rushed to her side, falling into the chair, grabbing her hand like it was the only thing anchoring him to the earth. her fingers were cold. too cold. "i’m here," he breathed, voice cracking. "i’m right here, baby."

he didn’t even try to stop the tears. they fell freely as he kissed her hand, her wrist, any part of her he could reach. "i’m so sorry," he whispered over and over, "i’m so sorry, i love you, please, don’t leave me."

she didn’t say much. her lips parted, voice barely more than a breath. "i love you, always,” she said.

rafe nodded frantically, squeezing her hand tighter, leaning closer, trying to catch every last piece of her before she slipped away. "i love you more," he choked out. "i love you so much, i can’t.. i can’t do this without you."

her eyelids fluttered. her breathing hitched. and then she whispered, one last time, the words catching on a sob: "i love you both, never let her forget that.”

their daughter.

then her hand went slack in his, and the machines screamed, and nurses came rushing in, and rafe just sat there, frozen, with his forehead pressed to the back of her hand, begging, pleading, but she was already gone. they pried him away eventually, but he didn’t feel it. he didn’t feel anything at all, only that thick lump in his throat, as he fought to breathe.

sunday mornings were different after that.

rafe would wake before the sun, lifting his sleepy little girl into his arms, carrying her to the kitchen like she was something fragile he had to protect at all costs. he’d let her stir the pancake batter, let her get flour all over the place, let her dance barefoot on the cold tiles, laughing in a way that sometimes broke him apart and sometimes stitched him back together. he played the same songs. he wore the same stupid apron that y/n had once bought him as a joke. he smiled for their daughter, even when the grief in his chest felt like it would crush him.

and every sunday morning, when he flipped the first pancake, he’d whisper into the quiet kitchen, "she loved you so much, baby girl. she loved you more than anything."

and somehow, somehow, that was enough to keep going. even when everything else hurt.

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

The Teaching Assistant

Big Jim x Reader

Warnings: Rough sex, semi-public sex, desk sex, oral sex (female receiving), overstimulation, slight somno vibes (reader dazed/out of it from pleasure), praise kink, hair pulling, light spanking, dirty talk, size kink, breeding kink implied, minor fear of getting caught, hand-over-mouth, degradation mixed with praise, explicit language, possessiveness, strong dom/sub dynamics, reader gets a little teary from overstimulation (but in a good way).

dedicated to : @cheappop

The second bell rang through Pensacola High, and the hallways exploded with noise—lockers slamming, sneakers squeaking, voices bouncing off the old tile floors.

You tucked a stack of graded papers tighter under your arm, weaving your way through the chaos. Being the head teaching assistant meant a never-ending cycle of babysitting—both students and sometimes, your own coworkers.

You were halfway to the main office when Principal Hernandez waved you down.

“Hey! Got a favor to ask.”

You already knew it wasn’t a real question. You forced a polite smile. “Sure, what’s up?”

He clapped a hand on your shoulder. “New teaching assistant starting today. For Coach Ramirez’s classes. He’s older—bit of a career shift situation. I want you to train him. Show him how we run things here.”

Older? Career shift?

You nodded, but inwardly groaned. It was hard enough training someone fresh out of college, let alone a mid-life crisis case.

You were still stewing over it when you heard the door creak open behind you.

You turned—and stopped breathing.

The man who approached you wasn’t what you expected.

Tall, broad, tan skin dusted in Samoan tattoos that peeked out from his polo shirt. Dark hair tied back, a lazy, confident grin curving his mouth like he already owned the room.

But it wasn’t just his looks that hit you.

It was his eyes… those chocolate orbs.

Principal Hernandez beamed. “This is Jimmy Uso. Jimmy, this is our best TA. She’ll be training you.”

Jimmy’s eyes dragged over you slowly, like he was memorizing the shape of you.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, voice low and rich, laced with something teasing. “Guess I’m in good hands.”

You swallowed a gulp, forcing your lips into a neutral smile.

“Yeah. Welcome to Pensacola High.”

But as you shook his hand, his thumb dragged lightly against your palm—and you knew.

This man was going to be nothing but trouble.

⸻

Three weeks later

The rain hammered against the windows, soft and steady like a ticking clock.

The whole school was swallowed by it—only the faint lights of parking lot cutting through the downpour outside.

You tucked your hands into the sleeves of your oversized button-down, pretending not to notice the way Jimmy kept glancing at you from across the desk.

It wasn’t like you wore anything special.

It was just a plain white button up shirt, sleeves rolled sloppily to your elbows, a few buttons loose at the top because the AC always broke when the weather turned.

Still, under Jimmy’s gaze, you might as well have been wearing nothing at all.

“You good?” you asked, raising a brow at him over the pile of graded quizzes.

Jimmy leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head. The move stretched the fabric of his polo shirt tight across his chest, and he grinned that lazy, devil-may-care smile.

“Yeah, mama,” he drawled. “Just thinkin’.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, trying to focus. The numbers on the grading spreadsheet blurred.

“You want some hot chocolate or something?” he offered after a moment.

“My treat. Well—your Keurig’s treat.” He winked.

You huffed a small laugh. “Sure. Why not.”

Jimmy stood, stretching slow and tall, before crossing to your tiny office kitchenette tucked into the corner. You watched him out of the corner of your eye—how casual he moved, how confidently he grabbed the mugs, popped the pods, found the Cool Whip like as if he’d done it a hundred times.

“You got marshmallows too?” he teased, shaking the can of whipped cream.

“Just the Cool Whip,” you said, clicking save on the spreadsheet.

He poured two mugs, swirling an unnecessary—and very cocky—mountain of whipped cream on top.

He brought one over, handing it to you with a little bow like he was presenting a five-star meal.

“Your majesty,” he said under his breath.

You hid your smile behind the mug, taking a cautious sip.

The chocolate burned your tongue slightly, but it was sweet, rich—comforting.

“You got…” Jimmy’s voice dropped a little. “Hold on.”

Before you could react, his fingers brushed the corner of your mouth, soft and sure.

Your heart jumped into your throat.

And before you could second-guess yourself—before you could even think—you turned your head and kissed the tip of his finger.

Soft. Quick.

Jimmy froze.

So did you.

The only sound between you was the steady pound of rain against the glass and your own heartbeat roaring in your ears.

His hand dropped to your chin, tilting your face up gently.

“You sure you wanna start somethin’ with me?” he asked lustfully.

You didn’t answer.

You just leaned in closer.

“You in the business of eating out?” you asked, voice very daring.

For a second, Jimmy just stared—like he couldn’t quite believe you’d said it.

Then he grinned.

A wicked grin.

And in the next breath, he closed the distance—crashing his mouth down on yours in a kiss so deep and desperate it stole the air from your lungs.

Papers went flying as Jimmy swept the desk clean with a rough swipe of his arm, sending graded quizzes and folders fluttering like confetti.

Before you could gasp, he was lifting you—big hands gripping your thighs—planting you firmly on the desk, his body slotting between your legs like it belonged there.

You barely had time to clutch at him before he grabbed the front of your button-down and ripped it open, buttons popping and scattering across the floor.

Your bra was next—torn away like it was made of tissue paper.

“Fuck, look at you,” he growled, voice hungry and reverent.

He ducked his head, lips latching hungrily onto your chest, biting and kissing, his stubble scraping just enough to make you whimper.

You arched into him, fingers threading into his hair, tugging him closer.

Your thighs fell open instinctively, and you gasped when you felt him—hard and straining against his jeans—pressing right against your pussy.

The contact was maddening.

You rocked your hips forward in silent invitation, desperate for more, needing more.

Jimmy groaned against your skin, the sound vibrating through your bones.

“Goddamn, mama,” he muttered. “Smell so fuckin’ sweet… been dyin’ to taste you.”

Jimmy’s hands slid down your sides, rough and greedy, gathering the hem of your skirt.

He pushed it up slowly, revealing more and more of your bare thighs, and when he caught sight of what wasn’t underneath—no panties, nothing—he froze.

His nostrils flared, eyes going dark as he stared at you like you were prey.

“Fuckin’ hell, girl,” he rasped. “You tryna kill me or what?”

You squirmed instinctively, the air cool against your exposed skin, but Jimmy wasn’t giving you an inch.

He hooked his strong arms under your thighs, dragging you to the very edge of the desk.

You tried to scoot back, a small whimper escaping you, but his grip tightened—holding you right where he wanted you.

“Uh-uh,” he muttered, glancing up at you with a smirk that sent you over the moon.

“You ain’t runnin’ nowhere.”

Without warning, he dipped his head between your legs, nose bumping against your precious folds, inhaling like he was memorizing how beautifully you smelled.

Then his mouth was on you—hot, wet, unrelenting.

His tongue licked a long, slow stripe up your center before circling your clit in lazy, teasing swirls.

You gasped and gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles flexing.

Jimmy didn’t give you a chance to recover.

He set a devastating pace, switching between broad licks and focused, torturous flicks of his tongue, his stubble scraping just enough to make you writhe. It was like he was made to just eat women on a daily…

You cried out, hips bucking, but he just wrapped his arms tighter around your thighs, pinning you in place like a man starved.

“Stay still, mama,” he murmured against you, voice wrecked with need.

“Let me fuckin’ taste you right.”

He increased his efforts as your orgasm hit fast and sharp, tearing a broken moan from your throat.

Your whole body shook, thighs trembling—but Jimmy didn’t stop.

Not even close.

He pulled you back down when you tried to lift your hips away, locking you against his mouth, tongue working you through every shudder, every helpless little whine you made.

And then he kept going.

Building you up again—lazily, confidently, like he owned your body now.

Your hands pulled on his hair, but he just groaned like he loved the fight, mouth dragging obscene, wet sounds from you as your second orgasm slammed into you even harder.

“Jimmy—” you gasped, voice wrecked.

He just grunted, hooking your legs even higher over his shoulders to get deeper, tongue fucking into you until you were keening, panting, broken apart again.

Your third orgasm nearly blacked you out.

When you finally sagged against the desk, boneless and soaked in sweat, Jimmy pulled back just enough to look up at you.

His mouth and chin were shiny with you, his eyes wild.

“I ain’t even close to done,” he said, voice rough with hunger.

“You taste too good, baby. Wanna keep eatin’ ’til I’m fuckin’ full.”

And with a swift motion he buried his mouth back between your thighs—determined to take every last drop you had to give.

Eventually, you lost track of how long Jimmy kept you trapped under his mouth—tongue relentless, lips sealing around your clit again and again until every nerve ending in your body was sparking.

Your thighs were quivering so badly you could barely hold them open anymore, and still he didn’t let up.

You twisted, whimpered, tried to shove at his broad shoulders—but he only moaned louder, licking greedily, moaning into you like he needed this more than air.

“Jimmy—please,” you gasped, voice hoarse. “I—I can’t—”

You tapped his shoulder weakly, and only then—only then—did he finally pull back, chest heaving, face completely wrecked with your juices.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking at you like he could eat you all over again.

“Tapped out already, mama?” he rasped, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “Shit. You’re lucky I’m feelin’ nice tonight.”

You could barely breathe, legs spread wide and trembling where he left you, your cum smeared across your inner thighs, dripping down onto the desk.

Jimmy stood, towering over you, undoing his belt with one hand.

The click of it unfastening made your whole body tense.

“You should be wet enough to take all of me now,” he said raggedly.

His jeans slid low on his hips as he unzipped them, pushing them just low enough to free himself.

Your eyes widened when you saw him—thick as fuck and veiny—and your stomach flipped at the size of him.

“Jimmy,” you whispered, stunned. “That’s not gonna fit.”

He chuckled darkly, stepping between your open thighs, fist lazily stroking himself as he looked down at you like you were dessert.

“We can make it fit, baby.”

He lined himself up, the blunt head of his cock pressing hot and firm against your soaked entrance.

He didn’t thrust—not yet.

He pushed in slow, steady, forcing your body to stretch inch by devastating inch around him.

You clutched at his biceps, nails digging into his skin as he sank deeper, and deeper, and deeper, dragging a choked sound from your throat.

Jimmy’s head dropped forward, a long, drawn-out moan rumbling from his chest.

“Fuuuuuck,” he hissed, bracing his forehead against yours.

“How the fuck you so fuckin’ tight, girl? You tryna make me nut after one stroke?”

You whimpered, blinking up at him, feeling so full you could barely think.

Every inch of him throbbed inside you, pleasure growing low in your belly, your walls fluttering helplessly around him.

Jimmy grinned, very breathless.

“Don’t worry, mama,” he murmured against your lips.

“We just gettin’ started.”

Jimmy moved slow at first with each roll of his hips was deep, grinding, making sure you felt every pulsing inch of him as he stretched you wide.

“You takin’ me so good, baby… fuck, you were made for me.”

Your hands clutched at his arms, fingers scrabbling for something to hold onto as he thrust slow, measured, dragging out the way your walls gripped and squeezed around him.

“You feel me?” he whispered, hips nudging deeper. “Feel how good you fit ’round me?”

“Y-yeah,” you gasped, dizzy with how full you felt, with how careful he was being when all you wanted was more. “Jimmy… harder.”

He froze for a second, chest heaving.

You watched that wicked grin bloom across his face again.

“Harder, huh?”

He pulled out suddenly, leaving you clenching around nothing.

You whimpered, thighs already trembling from how much he had wrecked you with his mouth.

Jimmy caught you easily as you slid off the desk, arms wrapping around you tight when your knees buckled.

“I got you, mama,” he said, kissing the side of your temple. “Always got you.”

Before you could catch your breath, he spun you around and bent you over the desk, your cheek pressing against the cool surface.

A sharp nudge of his foot kicked your feet apart wider.

The rough dominance of the gesture only made your fresh juices drip more between your thighs.

“You said harder,” Jimmy growled lowly.

“Don’t take it back now.”

You barely had time to brace yourself before he grabbed a fistful of your hair, not cruelly, but firm, using it to pull your head back slightly as he lined himself up behind you again.

And then he slammed into you—hard, deep, brutal.

You cried out, the desk screeching forward an inch on the floor from the force.

Jimmy’s grip tightened in your hair, his other hand locking around your hip like he was scared you’d disappear.

His pace was merciless now, hips snapping against your ass with loud, wet slaps, the sound obscene in the empty office.

“Goddamn, baby,” he grunted, rutting into you, the sounds of your bodies filling the room.

“Fuckin’ made for me… perfect little pussy takin’ all this cock.”

You moaned helplessly, eyes rolling back as he fucked you harder, faster—still somehow holding back from finishing, but barely.

Jimmy bent low, breath hot against your ear.

“You better hold on, mama,” he rasped.

“‘Cause I ain’t lettin’ you go ‘til I’m done givin’ this sweet little body everything it needs.”

Jimmy kept fucking you, setting a brutal, punishing rhythm, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing off the walls—when a sudden knock rattled the office door.

You froze, going rigid under him.

Jimmy stilled too, buried deep inside you, cock pulsing against your walls.

Jimmy’s hand clamped fast over your mouth, muffling the whimper that almost escaped you.

“Uh… everything alright in there?” a gruff voice called.

It was the janitor—Mr. Benson, from the night shift.

His chest pressed tight against your back, heartbeat hammering just as hard as yours.

He stayed lodged deep inside you, not pulling out, just grinding slow strokes that made your thighs quiver against the desk.

You squirmed, trying to stay still, trying not to make a sound—but every slow drag of his cock inside your soaked, stretched walls made your breath hitch.

“You… uh, need this room cleaned?” Benson asked again, sounding a little suspicious.

Jimmy leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, still moving inside you just slow enough to make you go insane.

“Speak now..”

He lifted his hand slightly, giving you room to speak—though he stayed locked inside you, thick and unrelenting.

You struggled to find your voice, blinking tears of frustration and pleasure out of your eyes.

“N-no!” you croaked out, breathless.

“We’re good! No cleaning needed!”

A beat.

“Alright then,” the janitor grumbled. You heard the soft squeak of his cart wheels rolling away.

The second the sound disappeared down the hallway, Jimmy’s whole body shifted.

You barely had time to inhale before he grabbed your hips and slammed into you, picking up the brutal pace exactly where he left off.

“No interruptions this time, mama,” he growled, pulling your hair again to arch your back deeper into him.

“Gonna fuck you like you fuckin’ need it.”

His thrusts were relentless—hard, fast, dominant—his cock hitting deep with every snap of his hips.

Your cries turned into broken moans, your hands clawing at the desk for any kind of anchor.

Jimmy was a force now—grunting, cursing under his breath, owning your body like it was his right.

“You feel that?” he rasped against your ear, voice wrecked.

“That’s me, stretchin’ this pretty little pussy open… makin’ you mine.”

Every word made you clench tighter around him, every thrust sending you closer to the edge again.

You could feel it building again—incredible and inevitable.

Jimmy’s fingers bruised into your hips as he chased his own release, grunting and cursing under his breath.

“You’re fuckin’ squeezin’ me so tight, baby,” he growled, voice wrecked, desperate.

“Can’t—fuck—hold out.”

You cried out, the pleasure inside you snapping tight.

“Jimmy—!” you gasped, body locking up, clenching down around him hard.

That was it.

That was all it took.

Jimmy groaned low and broken, slamming in deep one last time as he came inside you, hot and endless, his cock jerking with every pulse.

The feeling of him filling you tipped you over the edge too—you came with a sob, body wracked with shudders, your walls milking him for every last drop.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of attempted breathing as you stayed tangled together, bodies trembling.

Jimmy pressed a lazy kiss to your shoulder still deep inside you.

“Same time tomorrow, mama?” he panted, voice teasing but warm.

You let out a breathless, wrecked laugh, cheek still pressed to the desk.

“We’re about to rack up so much overtime,” you muttered.

Jimmy chuckled low in his chest, hands smoothing over your sides, protective even in his exhaustion.

“Good,” he said, nipping at your neck playfully.

“Means I get to clock in… and clock out… right inside you.”

[m-jelly]

Hey Jelly! Is it alright if I request a Levi x reader in a The Last of Us situation where reader takes the place of Ellie in the second game? She's immune, has just lost Joel, and has kept things secret from Levi about her immunity. Levi takes the place of Dina and their mask breaks resulting in reader telling Levi about their immunity before they were chased by a horde of clickers and runners, leaving Levi to stew in anger and betrayal from the lack of trust from readers side.

So the second game is my fave of the Last of Us series, I like it a lot more. I'm gonna make this a happy ending, cause it kind of goes happy but I don't wanna spoil how things go with the game as I know a lot of people have been introduced to Last of Us through the TV series and the game is a lot better.

The burden and pain I bear.

Levi x fem reader

Last of us game world, angst, communication, bonding, healing, happy ending.

After revealing the truth, you save the day for you and Levi. After parting a moment for you to hunt down those who hurt you, you face facts and decide that revenge is not the best path and return to Levi to talk things through. The two of you make up and decide to chase the future together.

Levi waited by his horse as the weight in his heart got heavier. When you approached him and your horse he felt a pain. He knew the truth, the whole truth and it was painful. You'd saved his life, but only moments before he thought one of you was going to die. Now he knew the two of you were going to live, he had nothing to worry about when it came to you getting infected.

He blinked a few times when you called his name as you put the last of some supplies in a satchel. He locked eyes with you before looking away. He loved you, he loved you so deeply and wanted marriage and kids, but he was hurt by the lie.

You moved closer to him. "Levi?"

He sighed. "I...I love you...I love you more than I can describe, but...I just..."

"You don't trust me."

He looked over at you. "I do, but...I...I feel like you don't trust me."

"I do."

"Then why didn't you...why?"

You looked down at the floor. "There is a lot of pain linked to my immunity, a lot of betrayal." You rubbed your tears. "Joel, he...and...I..."

Levi climbed onto his horse. "Do whatever you want. You want revenge, you have chosen this path. It's clear you don't need me right now." He called your name. "When you're ready, I'll be waiting for you in our home."

You walked closer. "Wait, Levi? Levi don't go."

He pulled on the reins. "Goodbye." He tapped his heels. "Be safe."

"Levi?"

He held back tears as he rode off with you screaming for him. He wanted so badly to turn back around, to hold you, love you and tell you he'll fix everything. The pain was raw right now and he was worried he'd say something he'd regret to you. This space was for the best right now, no matter how painful it was.

Being apart from you was pure hell, he was worried sick about you every passing moment. He was plagued with nightmares so taking care of the small farm you made together was hard. Knowing you'd come back to him was the only thing that kept him going.

Each day Levi gazed out at the path in hopes he'd see you on your horse, but you were never there. Weeks turned into a couple of months. Levi began neglecting himself and even grew a beard. He wanted to take back all the harsh things he said and the mean looks. He wanted you home.

Summer was coming and Levi's longing increased, he wanted to sit on the front porch with you in his arms and talk about the future. He collected water in his watering can and glanced down the path to see someone on a horse coming closer. His heart raced as a blush spread on his cheeks. He dropped the can and watched the person get closer.

Levi moved towards the top of the path by the gate. He called your name and waited for any kind of response. His eyes widened in delight when you waved back at him, but the wave was a hesitant one. He knew there was pain, a burden and something must have gone wrong.

You came to a stop in front of Levi. "I ah..."

Levi could see the wear and tear on you, you'd lost weight and you looked pale. "You can come in. I have the stable ready."

You rode your horse in and put her where she was comfy. You took everything off and made your way out to see Levi was waiting for you. You gripped your bags and looked down. "I'll be gone by tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Do you want me gone now? I can be gone in an hour, I just need to make sure my horse is okay."

He walked closer and saw you back up a little. "No, I mean why are you leaving tomorrow? I never said you should leave. I want you here."

You stared at him for a while. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." He reached over seeing you flinch. He paused and pulled back a bit. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Tears filled your eyes as you remember being alone for months, thinking that everything was over and you'd lost the love of your life. You'd seen a lot of death on the road, you'd made friends with people only for them to die on you. You'd give up seeking revenge, you were tired and you just wanted to see Levi one last time before going off on your own forever.

You smiled sadly. "A lot of death. I'm sorry I'm back. I'll sleep in the stables, get my shit together and move on. I don't want to cause you more pain."

Levi stared at you for a while when things slowly moved in his head, while he'd been full of rage months ago you'd been full of pain. "Let's go inside and talk."

You nodded. "Okay."

He walked with you inside the home. "Take a shower. I kept your clothes, so get changed into something and I'll have a meal and drink ready for you."

"Um...okay..."

Levi set up a nice meal and got a drink ready for you both, he even put a nice flower in a can that acted as a vase. He was going to shave later and look presentable tomorrow, but for now he wanted to communicate with you.

He smiled at you when he saw you stood sheepishly in the doorway, your hair dripping with water. "Tch, silly brat." He walked closer as you backed up. He grabbed a towel and started rubbing your hair as you closed your eyes tightly like you'd been hurt a lot while you were gone. "You still haven't changed, always leaving your hair all wet. You could get a cold."

"Sorry..."

"It's one of the many reasons why I love you."

You looked up into his eyes. "Levi."

He locked eyes with you and cupped your face, your towel still on your head as he softly said your name. "I love you."

"But...I hurt you."

"And I hurt you too. I want to heal with you. I want to move on with you. I don't ever want to lose you again. Those months without you were painful." He tapped his forehead against yours as you both began crying. He sobbed your name. "I love you."

You clung to his shirt. "I love you, Levi. I love you so much." You cried hard, a painful cry that hurt Levi's heart. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."

Levi held you tightly against him as the two of you cried together. When you were calmer he crashed his lips against yours. The two of you shared passionate kiss after passionate kiss until you were breathless and needed air. He gazed at you and rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip making you blush.

Levi led you to the kitchen table and watched over you as you ate slowly. "So..."

You gulped hard. "I should have told you sooner, I should have. I have a lot of trauma and guilt linked to my immunity." You played with your cup as you told Levi everything and what Joel did. "This could have been all over...I hate what I am. I hate who I am. I am so mad at him, but he's the only father figure I had." You put your head in your hands. "I cared for him, he did everything for me but hurt me and I lost him." You shook a little. "I'm tired, I'm so very tired. I can't do this anymore."

Levi moved closer to you and held you. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me. Don't hurt yourself. Please, please stay with me." He turned you and cupped your face and saw pain in your eyes. "Let me help you. Let me help you heal, please." He said your name in a commanding tone. "I love you. I want to help you. We can get through this together. We'll tell each other the truth from now on, no matter how ugly it is."

You sniffed. "Okay."

"Promise me you won't hurt yourself."

"I promise."

Levi kissed you over and over. "Thank you. I promise too that I won't hurt myself. We'll live here together on this farm, okay?"

You smiled at him. "Yeah, it's what we dreamed of."

"What about?"

You shook your head before Levi could finish. "I'm done. It's not worth it. Revenge got Joel killed and revenge will only get me or others killed. I tried hunting them, but people died trying to help me. It's not worth it. I want to live." You reached over and held Levi's hand. "I want to live with you."

Levi lifted your hand and kissed it all over as he smiled. "I want to live with you too." He blushed a little. "I want to marry you and have kids with you."

Your cheeks heated up. "Levi."

"I mean it."

You whined a little. "I want all that too. There is just one thing."

He frowned. "What?"

"Well..."

"Come on, we promised each other we'd tell the truth."

You released a long sigh. "Okay, well...umm..."

He leaned closer. "Tell me."

"The beard has to go."

He stared at you for a while. "What?"

You lightly touched the black beard he had. "It's gotta go. I'm sorry, it's cute and all but...I dunno."

He laughed making you smile. "You're right, it's not the best. I'll get rid of it tonight."

You smiled as your heart raced. "You're so handsome. I love you so much."

"I love you too." He leaned closer and stopped. "I want to kiss you but you don't like the beard."

"You've already kissed me a lot and I didn't mind the beard."

"I dunno." He teased. "You seemed rather against it."

You huffed a bit. "You."

He crashed his lips against yours and moaned. "I love you so much."

"I love you too."

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @dreamerofthewest @abiatackerman @minminroie

[musicinherhead]

I cannot stop thinking about the kiss, yes, but the second kiss? When Laudna admits to thinking she’s a bad person, and Imogen refuted it and Laudna kisses her again before explaining everything that happened with Bor’Dor and Delilah???? What if it was a kiss she took out of fear Imogen would rebuke her for her actions? What if it was a kiss she took because she wasn’t sure she’d get another????

Imogen would never turn her away but what if Laudna truly didn’t comprehend that in the seconds before the second kiss? What if she thought it’d be their last??? What then???

[kineticallyanywhere]

just

the way Normal sees a chance for kindness and someone to find solidarity with in the same creature that caused Hero's childhood to be irreparably marred by trauma and blood, but she doesn't even suggest Normal turn away from it and even offers to help if he really needs it lIKE

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 67 Hotel Posting

So it was predicted, so it came to pass. We have our hotel fight, dear void... and not much else this week.

Rough TL of Editor's Notes:

First Page: チヒロ死亡の報せを信じていた昼彦… [Chihiro shibo no hose wo shinjite ita Hiruhiko...] "Hiruhiko, who believed the news of Chihiro's death..." Last Page: 復習の道を征くチヒロ退路はなく、ただ突き進むのみ [fukushuu no michi wo yuku Chihiro tairo hanaku, tada tsuki susumu no mi.] "Chihiro walks the path of revenge with no way to retreat; he can only push forward."

I just want to pat myself on the back for being able to understand most of the chapter this week in Japanese compared to usual. Hokazono-sensei went easy on us and everyone spoke in a standard Tokyo dialect for the most part with no obscure kanji. Hooray for me.

Chihiro and Hiruhiko

Too bad he couldn't just die here and spare us the trouble.

Well, it happened. We got Hiruhiko learning to fight in a way that once again deliberately compliments and contrasts Chihiro at the same time. He has no master but "freedom" (lol) and is going to become a true menace from sheer talent apparently. He's already good enough to take down the master of a sword style so... hm. Hope Chihiro's stint practicing with the Masumi paid off. Hiruhiko being able to beat Sengoku here felt a little BS, but the elevator door opening to reveal the severed head was so cool that I forgive it.

Hiruhiko did take Kuguri's words to heart even though he seemed flippant from Kuguri's point of view. He's all about sensing the right flow and not copying from something he's seen and had explained to him like Chihiro is, though. Different kinds of instinct are on display and about to clash. Which one will come out on top this time? Gotta wait until next week to find out! Not surprised if it's Hiruhiko getting the one-up on Chihiro this time so they're tied in score. Chihiro's not feeling quite ready to fight using the Iai White Purity style yet while his personal menace is raring to go with whatever he's cooked up.

Plus he's got a hostage to protect and all.

Chihiro and Iori

[yume self-insert character status intensifies]

Just a little bit of conversation between these two to crush our hearts a smidge more before shit hits the fan. Iori and Chihiro could not be more different in life experience despite the similarities of their status as kids of famous (probable) war criminals. So of course Iori gets a bit down while she's musing that Chihiro's never had a chance to be normal. And...

Don't mind the shattering sound, that's just my heart breaking for Chihiro all over again.

THIS POOR GUY. He wants a normal life so bad, even if he wouldn't choose to change a thing he's done. He just wants to rest and worry about what to make for dinner instead of drenching himself in blood... but he'll see his path through to the end. He can't go back, as much as he yearns to. Because his father's gone and he's already well on the path to hell.

I think this is why Iori ultimately chose to have her memories sealed again. After seeing the carnage Chihiro causes and has to live with on a near-daily basis, she wants to cling to the normalcy she's known. Especially after the memories that returned last chapter were deeply unpleasant. Iori's not a coward or weak; she's truly an ordinary person thrust into an incredibly dangerous and depressing world. I think she will be forced to keep her memories for the story to go forward but how that happens is anyone's guess. Hopefully it doesn't involve harming the Masumi.

If Iori does keep her memories she will become much like Chihiro in that she lost her dad and was forced into a cruel world through traumatic events. Right now, a point is being made that Chihiro can't ever go back to Iori's world. He's too much of a sinner in his mind. Will Iori be forced to share the same fate as Chihiro, doomed to be chased while her father is alive? Will she also find herself on the path of revenge? Or will the Masumi finish the seal in time to help her out? Somehow I doubt it (Kuguri's still MIA but on the hunt, after all).

At any rate, I was definitely surprised by Iori's choice to return to a peaceful life because most stories will come up with a reason for the character to stay in the new world. The whole point of offering the choice is usually to show their resolve and establish their motivation. So for Iori to turn it down could mean a few things.

She's going to be forced to keep them anyway. Whether it's the seal not working, being left incomplete, or some other reason, she could be forced to carry the burden against her wishes. I think this is the most plausible outcome.

Iori will end up deciding to keep her memories after all. Chihiro and Hiruhiko's fight could change her mind somehow, or maybe Chihiro's words about it being better to live with the truth will come back. So basically just a delayed answer to The Call to show us her resolve has been fortified.

The memories are resealed but she's still under observation/being chased. I think it's unlikely for her to exit the story and go back to being a normal girl, but it could happen. She's had too much attention and build-up to simply be allowed to go back to school in my opinion. Unless it's to further explore the choice that Chihiro said he couldn't make.

No matter what happens, I love that Chihiro gave Iori the choice with no implications on what she should choose. He's still the same kindhearted guy thrust into a violent world he's not at all built for.

Also, just one more thing...

Sleep is for everyone else.

Yeah. Chihiro's got his foot on the gas pedal and will not ease up on himself one bit. He's going to break sooner or later. Who will be there to help put him back together? Hm...

Alright. Cut a rant and will just wait for next week to see what happens. I'm going a bit stir-crazy but that's just what happens when following a weekly manga sometimes. Hopefully next week is explosive enough to make the wait to see other characters again a bit more bearable. In the meantime, have a good week and give yourself a hug if you need one, kind void.

[wackachewbacca]

I love that Calamity introduces us to the city of Avalir as like the epitome of a wonderful advanced civilization in an age of opulence and yet towards the end of episode one so much about what the city represents feels so hollow. Yes the city is still beautiful and far ahead of anything that we have seen in any of the three main campaigns but it’s really small things like they can’t grow real flowers in their gardens or the people experience weather for a very short period of their entire lives

Even the people themselves (at least those in higher society) have such extreme contempt for people who worship and champion the gods. I cringed during the entire scene when Purvan was present at the gala and he was turned into a spectacle of how quaint and backwards people who don’t live on Avalir are and was being mocked because of his status as Champion of the Raven Queen and no one even gave a shit if they were rude to this one man who was just doing his job because they wanted to have a dick measuring contest against a goddess who frankly has more important things to do than appease the whimsies of vapid mortals

Really it’s like what Brennan and Travis say at the beginning of the episode: it’s a beautiful day in Avalir but not on the inside

[supercantaloupe]

favorite ways of eating potatoes (i want potatoes)

hard to pick a single favorite but my usual go to when i'm cooking potatoes for myself is to cut em into wedges (or just big chunks if the potatoes are small), douse them in olive oil, salt, and whatever herbs or spices i feel like, and then roast them hot in the oven until they're soft and golden. usually takes like 20-30 minutes at 425f flipping them over once or twice, i find. any potato would work but gold potatoes are usually what's in my pantry. although if i can get purple potatoes at the farmers market i use those bc they're fun. it's a dirt simple way to prepare potatoes but they're super good, the tastiness to effort ratio is super high, and you can cook something else on the other half of the sheet pan at the same time too so you get a whole dinner with only one dirty pan

[ask meme]

[gayemoji]

this week on I DONT THINK HE WOULD FUCKING DO THAT: house ramming a car into cuddys house while she has guests

[lesamis]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you to get to know your mutuals and followers

(hello dear friend, tell me of your latest little joys please 🧡)

thank youuu for sending this along 🌱 i had an excellent time thinking of these!

swimming 😌 being by nature an anxious little beast i love anything that will cushion Bad Sensory Things (loud, warm) in cool, smooth nothingness. huge fan. submerge me in cool water at any given moment i'm going to love it

the neighbourhood cats

sending & receiving mail! i love stationery and i love handwriting things, and it always feels wonderful to be reminded someone's thinking of you

against my better judgement, peanut butter?

the spot on top of the hill where i go to read :') it's a different kind of stunning in each season.

[famewolf]

I made a big pot of soup that's been simmering all day. And very soon I'll be eating a bowl of it and watching space movies with the family

[confetti-critter]

The night is young and I am free to do whatever my heart desires but unfortunately I have once again found myself trapped in the Time Prison and so I

[sysig]

Those quick-jumps out of prison leave something to be desired... (P1 | P2 | P3) (Patreon)

[swoo-bats]

Tim knows something is up. He doesn't know what, exactly, yet. But he will find out. Earlier he caught Cassie and Kon whispering before they noticed him and stopped. They keep darting their eyes between him and Bart when they're all together. It's clear to Tim that they think something is up between him and Bart but after reviewing the past few missions and hangouts, he can't pin anything down for what they think, or why. He's almost given up trying to puzzle it out by himself when Cassie basically tells him.

"You know, Kon and I won't care if you and Bart are dating."

She's leaning against the wall by the door in Tim's room with her arms crossed and attempting to look nonchalant.

Tim has to take a moment to digest the sentence.

Implication 1: He and Bart are dating.

Implication 2: They chose not to tell Cassie and Kon.

Implication 3: That Bart could be any amount of subtle if they were dating and trying to hide it from their best friends.

Safe to say, he needs more information. How did they arrive at this conclusion?

"What makes you think we're dating?"

Cassie looks annoyed by his evasion, but goes on to explain anyway. "Kon said that he saw you guys holding hands walking around his campus. You were wearing one of Bart's jackets. The other day I saw Bart's sketchbook and it has so many drawings of you it's nauseatingly sweet. Plus, recently Bart's been getting distracted daydreaming with this lovesick look on his face which is really annoying during training." Her nose scrunches at that last part.

With the new information, Tim can finally draw some connections.

"First of all, that alone isn't evidence of dating. Secondly, I'm not dating Bart." Although he had a sneaking suspicion he knew who was.

Danny had told him that he was accepted into Missouri State University and was going to major in engineering. Why Danny chose Missouri State Central City is still lost on Tim. When moving into his dorm Danny texted Tim, jokingly complaining about rooming with an art student which could theoretically be Bart. But... Bart and Danny? Tim has such a large mental divide between those two aspects of his life that imagining them rooming together was strange. He almost felt off-kilter.

Cassie is saying something about how there's no way the two of them would act like that if they weren't dating, but he wasn't paying attention to it now.

Tim stands, moving away from his desk. "Where's Bart?" Cassie says that Kon was going to talk to Bart and should be with him, wherever they are.

They find Bart and Kon in Bart's room. Tim overhears what sounds to be the tail end of Kon's confrontation with Bart.

"—not dating Tim! I'm not dating anyone!"

When Tim enters the room, he can see Bart with his hands exasperatedly thrown up. He decides to butt in before Kon can continue.

"So you're not dating Danny?" He quirks an eyebrow up and though he's wearing his mask he knows his friends can read him.

Bart hesitates to answer which gives Kon and Cassie time to simultaneously ask, "Who's Danny?"

Since they've already stuck their noses in this far Tim just shrugs when he says, "My twin." And relishes the looks on their faces. Then focuses back on Bart and raises his eyebrow again, still waiting for an answer.

"I've been meaning to ask! It keeps slipping my mind, okay!?"

Tim just stares with a disappointed face. He knows how effective it is, he copied it from Alfred, after all. And though he may not be as close to Danny as he is his bat-siblings, he feels he gets to judge his twin's potential partner at least a little, especially since it's one of his best friends.

"Don't give me that look!" Bart shouts and points a finger at Tim. "Danny could bring it up, too! I'm not the only one!" Then his expression turns unsure and his hand lowers, "Plus, what if he doesn't like me and I just make it super awkward and he won't wanna be dorm mates with me any more and then I'll never see him again because he'll avoid me and our majors are totally different?"

"That's not going to happen."

Kon displays an impressive feat of speed by cutting off Bart. "Wait wait wait wait. How come we've never heard of Danny before if he's your twin?"

Aiming for casual, Tim shrugs again. "We were separated at birth and grew up with different families. And he doesn't know about the whole Bat thing so you guys can't just show up and start asking him stuff."

Cassie crosses her arms defensively. "We weren't going to do that."

Kon also crosses his arms. "And even if we were, we totally know how to be subtle."

"Uh huh."

—

Danny: either im hallucinating or i keep seeing wondergirl and superboy on campus

Danny: i s2g if some superhero bs gets my classes cancelled

Danny: idk what ill do but it will be Drastic

Tim: You literally chose a school in the same city the Flash operates in

Danny: yeah but hes chill

dpxdc twins au except it's no-pulse flavored

Bart’s new roommate looks a lot like Tim. 

Like, suspiciously like Tim. 

Danny’s the same height, has the same shape of nose, same shade of hair, and even frowns like him. He would have been a perfect copy if he acted more like Tim, but Danny definitely holds himself looser than Bart’s ever seen Tim. 

But he still has his face. So, obviously, Bart has to investigate. Maybe he’s a clone, or a shapeshifter, or maybe one of the Gotham rogues decided to get facial reconstruction surgery to look like him, and this was all a ploy. 

Okay, probably not that last one. Bart doesn’t think Tim’s enemies know his identity. 

Anyway, investigation! Bart’ll figure this out himself, and deal with it if Danny needs to be dealt with. And the investigation will start right after he comes up with an excuse as to why he’s back in their third floor apartment when he passed Danny in the hallway a few seconds before. 

Danny stares at him, and Bart stares back. 

“Must’ve been a doppelganger!” Bart blurts out. 

Danny’s silent for a second before nodding enthusiastically and noting that everyone's supposed to have like seven in the world anyway and wow what a wild coincidence that there’s one in their building. 

Bart extends the same courtesy when a week later he walks in on Danny with an iced over pan on the stove. Danny says they should really get their freezer checked out and Bart agrees and asks if he can use the ice for a painting study. 

(They never get their freezer checked.)

Bart finds that Danny’s great at setting up fun things for him to draw, whether he knows it or not. Like the ice, or his collection of rocks, his astronomy textbooks with the pretty covers, his gestures as he rants about his classes, the excited glint in his eyes when he’s talking about his next repair project and how his eyes almost look like they glow in the right light. 

Hm. A good portion of his sketchbook is drawings of Danny, and yet he’s still having trouble with getting the right blue for his eyes. At first glance they’re Tim’s shade of blue, but when he keeps looking they seem to get lighter. Maybe greener?

He should probably stop staring into his friend’s eyes. 

Well, maybe not. Danny doesn’t seem to mind. 

Just like he doesn’t mind when they started regularly sitting very close on the couch, or falling asleep together, or Bart borrowing some of his jackets, or-

Okay, Bart’s kinda seeing a pattern. He and Danny should really have a conversation about if this is platonic behavior or not. 

But not right now, because Bart brought Danny across the river to raid Wally’s board game closet in Keystone. 

And Wally, who’s used to this, just passes by them with a, “Hey Bart, hey Tim.”

“Danny, not Tim,” Danny replies almost absent mindedly, then looks back at Wally, who’s also staring at him now. “Wait, you know Tim?”

“OhmyGod I was supposed to investigate!” Bart says, face palming. It just slipped his mind! And Danny was distracting him with his pretty face that he totally wears better than Tim!

“You know him too?” Danny asks. But he doesn’t look suspicious of them, more amused. 

“How do you know him?” Wally squints at Danny, eyes briefly catching Bart’s in question. 

“He’s my twin,” Danny answers easily. “The Drakes only wanted one kid, so they gave me to their friends the Fentons, who wanted a second one.” He shrugs and goes back to digging around the closet. “Tim and I were always in contact, though. Letters and phone calls and texting, you know?” 

He says it all so casually while Wally and Bart are sharing increasingly concerned looks behind his back. 

Do the Waynes know about Danny? Has Tim never brought him up? Why? Does Danny know about Red Robin? Does Tim-

“Holy shit does this mean Tim has ice powers too!?” 

Or: Tim and Danny are twins. Through a series of coincidences, the first people to find out that aren’t Fentons or Drakes are the flashes.

(This post was brought to you by me recently finishing the 1995 Impulse run, and wanting an excuse to share this panel:

Look they both got called twinks clearly they're soulmates)

[wmhalliwell]

i will say tho--yes i am aware kraven is a supervillain, HOWEVER, baby boy why do you wait for poachers to kill herds of endangered animals before you stop them? why not stop them first??

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was getting my associates degree I took a Mythology class that I loved. But one of the girls in class was absolutely off the rails conservative Christian which made things… interesting.

The professor started off the class by being like, “Mythology is stories associated with religion.”

This girl. Haaaated that. She was like, “No, Christianity is true. It’s not mythology.” Mythology was delivered in the same tone as someone trying to spit excrement from their mouth.

The professor raised her eyebrows and said laconically, “Yes, most people believe their religion is the real one, that’s part of it, and the stories surrounding religion are referred to as mythology.”

The girl stewed in a hateful sullen rage. I truly don’t understand why she didn’t drop the class but perhaps it was court mandated education. We all expected her to drop the class but she dug in like a tick and derailed discussions as often as she could.

On a different occasion the professor was drawing a comparison between social constructs like gender. The girl raised her hand. The class hushed to hear her announce, “It’s just a fact that women like domestic work and even though men are awful and stinky we just have to love them anyway. It’s biology, we’re just hardwired like that.”

I was sitting next to my friend a baby gay Jewish girl and our eyes met in mutual hilarity while the professor tried to pretend she hadn’t just been stricken with a stress induced migraine while she steered the class away from that landmine.

The next sticking point was a week later when the professor informed us that many mythologies have overlapping events like floods but these didn’t necessarily happen in such literal terms. It was a metaphorical way to process and understand the world.

This girls hand shot up. I watched the professor exercise extreme self control to keep her expression bland before calling on her.

“The world did flood. And Noah saved all the animals. Before the flood all the water was in a dome outside the earth and then the dome broke and the world flooded. All of it.”

The whole class stared at her as if struggling to comprehend the overlap of her acceptance that the world was round while also firmly believing that there had previously been a barrier that held up all of the earths water before god smashed it in a fit of pique.

She raged under the attention, glaring balefully at our astonished faces.

The professor stared at her blankly, unable to form words to such a bizarre belief. I wanted to ask clarifying questions- what they’d drunk before the dome broke, if there were rivers or lakes prior, or did the dome allow some rain in somehow, but then I really looked at her.

She had the eyes of a feral, cornered animal who regarded any deviation in worldview from her own to be a physical assault on her person. Like the professor, I said nothing, and after a wretchedly long pause class moved on.