#filled

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Can you write a story where James and Sirius get married while still in school and Lily keeps trying to hit on James (she doesn’t know they’re married but people keep telling her it’s a bad idea because James and Sirius are inseparable, maybe lily is a transfer student or something and that’s why she doesn’t know) who politely refuses until he gets fed up and tell her he’s already married.

((A/N: I went with transfer student Lily, assume Hogwarts is the public version of school and she was going private or smthn))

James is a flirt. That's what everyone tells her. James is a flirt, Lily. You can't take him seriously when he flirts with you, he flirts with everybody.

Lily listens to them-- she is new to Hogwarts, after all, and she doesn't know everything about it just because she read the book on it-- but she thinks there's more to it than that.

Maybe everyone knowing James for so long has led them to believe he's not serious about her. If the stories are to be believed, he's been like this since he was eleven, and no one takes an eleven year old seriously when they're charming.

Lily's new to the school, she can offer a new perspective. And her perspective is that James means it when he flirts with her.

"I've heard asking people to Hogsmeade is the done thing," Lily says, not to anyone in particular, but just the general air in the dormitory.

"The done thing for dates, yeah," someone-- Mary, that's her name-- says.

"Brilliant."

"You're not thinking of asking Potter, are you?" Dorcas chimes in.

"I was going to, yeah."

The girls groan in unison. Lily glances at them. Did they plan this? It feels planned. Or maybe this is how in-tune people can get when they've lived together through the school year for six years straight.

"I know you all think it's a bad idea-" god knows they've all told her at length "-but I'm going to go ahead and ask. The worst thing he can do is say no." That's the worst case, and it's not bad. And she doesn't think it's likely, so.

"It's your funeral, girl."

"I think you're crazy for asking out anyone. Isn't that the boy's job?"

Lily rolls her eyes. They're so dramatic. She's asked out someone before and she didn't die from it.

*

James blinks at her owlishly behind his glasses.

For the first time, she doubts her decision. It's not (just) that he isn't answering right away, it's that he's looking at her like that. He's looking at her like this is a complete surprise, one that's taken him off guard so completely that he's in a rare moment of silence.

"Erm."

"I take it that's a no," Lily says, trying to be casual about it. Heat rises in her cheeks in embarrassment and she curses her fair skin for how visible it must be. Damn it, she was so sure that James was into her.

"Yeah, sorry," he says dazedly.

It's impossible to take James Potter off-guard, this much, she knows. She has to take advantage of this moment while she can, so she's going to see if she can find out the why. Why is he saying no and-- more importantly-- why was everyone so certain this would be the outcome? "Mind if I ask why not?"

"Huh?"

"You were flirting," she says, not accusing, just pointing it out. "I thought you were interested."

"I'm- taken, that's all."

"Taken?" She hasn't seen any girl hanging around him, just those three mates of his. Is he lying to try and make her feel better? She's not a fan of that. "There's no way you're taken."

He blinks at her again, still looking taken off-guard. "I'm married, actually."

"Married? No way in hell you're married. We're still in school, and you spend all your time with Black-"

"He's a Potter now," James interrupts quickly, almost angry. Then he goes pale. "Erm, I don't- I mean-" He's starting to panic, so she cuts in, guilt gathering in a lump in her stomach for pushing; she never meant to make him feel bad, she just wanted answers. If she'd known, she wouldn't have pushed. But, well, if she'd known, then... It was an imperfect situation, and she was uncomfortable for her part in it.

"Relax, I won't tell anyone," she assures him.

"If anyone found out-"

"They won't," Lily says simply. For her, it is that simple. She's friends with a few girls here, but she wouldn't describe them as close. She's certainly not close enough with anyone to tell them a secret like this. And they're only really 'friends' in the sense that they get along alright and they don't tell her to get lost.

He looks at her, assessing her sincerity. There's that bit of panic clinging to the edges of him, but there's also a forced calm. She understands, in that moment, why some people are wary-- scared, almost-- of him. He's... intense. In control. He breathes out, and that hint of danger vanishes with it. "Good. We were going to tell people, but- well, it'll just be easier if we wait until we're out of Hogwarts."

"I understand completely. But maybe stop flirting so much with other people? I thought you were interested, it's the only reason I pushed."

James's mouth twists, almost a smirk but lacking the humor. "Yeah, Sirius warned me that might be the case."

"How long have you two been...?" Lily trails off.

The look James gives her then is purely incredulous. "We're not friends, Evans. Why would I talk to you about it?"

Gryffindor, house of the brave, she reminds herself. She can take a chance here. "I don't really have friends." It hurts to admit-- and she can feel her cheeks heat-- but it's the truth. "I figure why not try with you?"

"You just asked me on a date," he points out.

"Yeah, because you're cute and you flirted with me, it's not like I'm in love with you. Come on," she whines, unashamed to be whining because she wants something good to come from this embarrassing confrontation instead of walking away empty-handed. "What do you have to lose by being friends with me?"

"I already have friends," he says, bewildered. 

"Yeah, so what's one more?"

He blinks at her, she's afraid he's going to give a firm no, and then he cracks a grin and starts laughing. "Sure, Evans. We can be friends. But if Sirius doesn't like you, you're gone."

"He'll like me," she says, willing it to be true.

*

"You'll never guess what just happened," James says the second him and Sirius are alone. Sirius is lounging on James's bed, and James is standing, walking back and forth across the room for something to do while they talk.

"Hm?"

"First, promise you won't get mad. The situation's handled."

Sirius raises an eyebrow at him. "Okay?"

"Evans knows about us."

"Evan Rosier?" he says, sitting up straight. "That sounds like a cause for panic, what the hell were you thinking-"

"No, not Evan, Evans, Lily Evans, Gryffindor."

"Oh." He lays back down. "She won't tell?"

"She won't tell," James promises. He walks over and lays down next to him, fingers tapping Sirius's chest with nervous energy. "She asked me out, and when she asked why, I sort of told her we were married."

"Uh-huh," Sirius says, in that way that means he knows there's more to it.

"Anyway, she asked if we could be friends, and I said sure, but only if you liked her too. So, thoughts on Evans?"

"She's alright," he shrugs. "Not sure I like her knowing we're married, though. How'd that happen, anyways? It's not like you'd say it flat out."

James snickers. "Hello, I'm James, this is my husband, Sirius. What's your name?" He pecks a kiss to Sirius's cheek after he says 'husband'; it makes Sirius laugh. "Nah, she called you Black, and I corrected her without thinking. It was a stupid mistake."

Stupid, but sweet. It makes Sirius's heart grow, just hearing it. The change of his last name is official, but that doesn't mean they told anyone but the Potter's about it-- not even the professors know, since when they started this school year, his name was still Black. The NEWT's will get his name right, and that's all that matters right now. Plus... it feels good. He likes that someone else knows. It's dangerous, and if Lily talks, they're screwed for the rest of the school year, but he likes it. He's wanted to be Mr. Potter since practically the moment he met James. Keeping it a secret is necessary, but that doesn't mean he likes it. He wants to shout it at people as they pass by. He wants everyone to look at him and know what family he belongs to, but he wants that to happen in the future. Lily knowing, right now, is scary. But she says she'll keep it a secret, and all he can do is hope that she's telling the truth.

"Sure," Sirius says, "our new friend Lily. Why not?"

[bold-and-bratty]

[bluesilkdressao3]

Hi, could you write us what would be the reader's first kiss with Levi, Erwin and Mike?(I am writing with the help of a translator, I apologize for the mistakes)

there are no mistakes in ur message dw :-)

Thoughts on a First Kiss with the Male Veterans (Erwin, Mike, Levi)

Erwin

I see Erwin needing to have developed a back-and-forth with reader before any relationship could develop. He seems the sort to not have romantic inclinations unless he also has a conversational relationship with you.

The most romantic, seems the sort to ask permission.

Erwin respects you as a soldier. He sees you as a valuable asset to the Scouting Legion. He values your input in field affairs and appreciates it when you have a glance over expedition plans for him. Making you a Squad Leader was an easy call—or, rather, as the Commander of the Legion it was an essay call. As a man? It was a decision he was reluctant to make. He'd been growing increasingly fond of you, increasingly eager to pass you in the hallway, looking up at his door quickly when someone knocked and finding himself slightly disappointed when it wasn't you—worse, he'd find himself pleased when it was you; he'd smile at you, stand as you approached his desk, he'd murmur for you to take a seat and he'd lean his elbows on his desk to get close to you. To hear you speak quietly and clearly. He hung off every word. You were a vulnerability for him. He knew you could fight, knew you were strong, knew you could handle yourself but, by God, was he afraid of your absence. That was the problem. Erwin tried everything, he tried pushing you away, setting some polite distance, some clear formality. He directed conversations away from the personal and exclusively toward the militaristic. When military matters were discussed and done with, he'd stand and politely urge you on your way. But it did nothing other than make him sad to see you go. It was the night before an expedition—the second expedition with you as a Squad Leader—and Erwin was tense, anxious, on edge. Like every evening before an expedition, he'd had his Officers come in for a final debrief before dismissing them to their bedrooms for a restless night. But, unlike every other evening before an expedition, he'd asked you (politely) to stay behind. You had looked a little confused, even, perhaps, worried. He'd quickly calmed you mind by assuring you there was nothing to be anxious about, he'd asked you to sit. There had been a silence wherein Erwin tried to think of what to say, what to do, how best to come out with the fact that he'd grown affectionate for you in a way that was simply not appropriate for a Commanding Officer. But, in the end, all he could do was stand from his chair, walk beside you, crouch alongside where you sat, and say, "may I kiss you?" Of course, with a smile, you did.

Mike

The most easy and comfortable with romantic/sexual gestures.

I see Mike as the sort to act on a whim, the sort to make a spur of the moment decision.

Perhaps unlike to ask permission, letting your movement dictate if he kisses you or not.

Mike was a sucker for women. He was a man with needs and he liked women. Sue him. He likes the way they move, they speak, likes the way they kiss, likes the way they sound, and, of course, the way they smell. He takes his job as a soldier seriously, he endeavoured to keep any carnality confined to one of flings with pretty ladies he meets in a pub, perhaps meeting them once or twice more before laying down the boundary of "can't do this again." Most of the time, they're fine with it—most of the time, they're used to soldiers and their bullshit tendency to pull away from emotions. Its fine. It works. He tries to avoid emotional, sexual, romantic shit with fellow soldiers. But, hey, you were just his type. Mike kept it down, kept it quiet and pushed away for as long as he could. He avoided physical contact with you, he avoided chatting with you, laughing with you, he avoided it all—adamant to keep shit from getting difficult. But the beer had been flowing, but the mess hall was hot and clammy, but the laughter was loud and the celebration (a rare semi-successful expedition) was in full swing and you looked sweaty and joyful in the candlelight. He'd walked past you, ducking his head to quietly say into your ear, "follow me?" You did, darting out the mess hall and into the corridor a few moments after him. The corridor was quiet and dark and a little chilly after the tight noise of the mess hall. Mike was leaning on the wall, his tankard on the windowsill beside him. He'd stared at you in silence, looking at the sheen of your sweat in the moonlight of the hall. You stepped closer, hesitant and slow. The moment you were within arm's reach, Mike had reached out and grasped your wrist loosely. You didn't pull back or away. You only stepped closer. Toe to toe, eyes looking at one another. It was only natural, only easy, for Mike to duck his head and press his lips to yours. It was intuitive for you to loop your arms around his neck and for him to grip your waist and pull you closer. Yeah. You were just his type.

Levi

Tbh I see Levi only being able to be romantic either in a pre-canon situation or a post-canon situation. During the plot of canon, I think he's so existential and fucked up that initiating romance is rly not on his mind.

I've written a couple of times on Ao3 pre-canon romance w/ Levi so I'd love to explore a post-canon romance.

Like I always say, I see Levi's relationship with intimacy being repressed and even somewhat awkward.

Tbh, kissing may be one of the most tense things for him as it is such an intimate, gentle action that is pure romance and offers little physical gratification. Sex may make sense to him as something people desire for physical release, but kissing? What's the point beyond simple affection?

I think that post-canon, his wounds and injuries would fuck him up. Levi's whole military purpose had been being physically strong, thus, losing his ability to walk, to use his hand, his vision being impaired, I imagine those would all affect not only his identity but his self-esteem.

For this reason, I see there being a long period of reluctance from Levi to act on any romantic feelings and, hence, reader would need to initiate things.

Levi didn't believe it. It didn't make sense. You were strong, still. You were valued by Arlert's little diplomatic group for your military knowledge, for how well you'd fought during the war, for the fact that you had military experience beyond the others. After all, you'd already been in the Legion years before any of the 104th signed up. You, strong, smart, beautiful, having any damn interest in Levi as he currently was made no sense. He thought you'd been mocking him when you first told him. He'd been an ass to you, swore at you, told you to fuck off. You'd only returned the following day with a fresh loaf of bread and your familiar, easy company. "Don't you have shit to do?" Levi would grumble as you prepared a pot of tea to share with him by the fire. "Yeah," you'd reply, "but I'm happy to be here," you would look at him with that gentle intensity that always had Levi's ears going hot, and you'd add, "I'm happy to be with you." The first time you'd asked to kiss him, you'd been pushing him in his wheelchair along a cobbled street while Gabi and Falco walked in front of the both of you—the two of them talking loudly and laughing louder. Levi had tensed full body and, after a long silence, replied, "don't say that shit again." You were good at following military commands. You were God awful at doing what he said otherwise. You asked him once when you were slowly shaving his face with a cut-throat razor. You asked him once when you were chopping vegetables together. You asked him once when he was helping you fold laundry. You asked him once before you went to the port to catch a boat to Paradis. You asked him when you returned. He always balked, always froze, always said no, but the intensity of the no lessened from a full body rejection to a sharp shake of the head to a quiet, "no." You didn't push him, you didn't demand it, you didn't guilt him or urge him, you would just pause and look at him and say, "may I kiss you?" When he'd say no, you'd nod and move on, picking up where you left off. It was when the others were round, of all days, that he finally said yes. The garden was busy in the summer evening. Kirstein and Springer were rowdy and drunk, Braun close behind. Pieck and Onyankopon and Arlert and Leonhardt were looking on in their own state of tipsy amusement, Gabi and Falco were full and sleepy after the big meal. You were sat beside Levi on the porch, he in his wheelchair holding a half drank pint and you sat beside him on a chair, smiling softly. He'd been staring at your smiling profile, he'd been in awe of your patience and unending kindness. He'd leant into your space and said, "kiss me." You'd looked at him slowly, eyes bright, and had whispered, "are you sure?" Levi had replied with a nod. You'd raised your hand, pressing it on his cheek and letting him rest the weight of his head on your palm, your thumb stroking the scarred skin beneath his blind eye. You'd leant close and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was dry, soft, gentle, easy. Levi's hand had raised to wrap around your wrist and he'd pressed his lips back against yours. When the kiss broke you pressed your forehead against his and whispered, "alright?" "Mhmm," he'd hummed. No one had noticed the kiss when he looked back at the small party.

[viejospellejos]

Esta es la edición en vinilo relleno de líquido del clásico Slippery When Wet de Bon Jovi, limitada a 1,300 copias y numeradas.

¡Se vendieron por casi $100 y se agotaron por completo!

[ratsplendor]

*slams door open* -"DID SOMEONE SAY FIC REQUESTS ARE OPEN?!!!!"

May I request Ford fucking Fidds against a tree, because I'm 100% convinced those nerds fucked in the woods at least once at some point during the portal building era.

SIMPLE. SWEET. BASED. 🌲 ✅ getting nasty in the woods is a GO. fuck yes

[wiirocku]

Psalm 104:27-28 (NKJV) - These all wait for You, That You may give them their food in due season. What You give them they gather in; You open Your hand, they are filled with good.

[vfdinthewild]

"All in all, this was very surprisingly fortuitous and vintage-filled day."

-via "THRIFT FLIP: I made a trendy beaded bralette (with thrifted beads!)" by @kathleenillustrated on YouTube, 14:54

[beatleskinkmeme]

Based on the fact that John was Linda's favourite Beatle growing up: Sometime in the '70s, Linda tells/confesses to Paul her old fantasies about John. Paul gets off on it.

Filled Here

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Could you do one where Sirius is a Gryffindor outcast after getting sorted and gets attacked/bullied by Gryffindors and Slytherins alike and James defends him :D

Sirius is a child, but he's not an idiot. He knows that, in addition to his parents being unhappy about his Sorting, Slytherins are unhappy about his Sorting. Gryffindors too. He's pissed off his parents-- and all the extended family-- a fair few times by age eleven, but it's something else entirely to have people his age upset. The adults in his family would get mad, but he knew exactly how to deal with that anger; the other students are cruel, and he's lost as for how to handle it.

Like he said, he's not an idiot. He knows that there's nothing he can do to make the other students like him. With his family, if he went to another room and waited half an hour, they'd be fine. With his peers, waiting doesn't seem to do anything except-- maybe-- make them think he's weak. He doesn't understand how trying to give someone space to stop being angry counts as weak, but when he gives them space, the next time they see him, it's twice as bad like they're having a contest with themselves.

The bright spot in all of this is James. They became friends on the Hogwarts Express, and when he Sorted into Gryffindor, it cemented their relationship as best friends. James is sticking with him and hasn't faltered, not for an instant.

When Sirius finds a massive nest of snakes in his bed, James helps him clean it up without a second thought-- though he, like Sirius, isn't thrilled about picking up so many snakes. They're both visibly nervous about it and pretending otherwise, and neither one pokes fun; if they both pretend that it doesn't bother them, maybe that makes it true. When ink explodes in his bag, coating everything in it and ruining his homework, James is right there beside him, telling the professors that he completed it and shouldn't be punished. When one shoe of every pair in his wardrobe goes missing, James lends him a pair of his own.

It goes on and on, these things charitably called 'pranks' by Professor McGonagall. Sirius thinks it's more mean-spirited than that, and while they don't talk about it, he knows James thinks the same. It's not happening to everyone. It's not happening to all the first years or all the Gryffindors, and it's not happening to all so-called blood traitors; it's just him. It's just him, and everyone's in on it except his dormmates, so no one even tries to hide it when they're the guilty party. 

One day-- after cleaning up a bucket of bugs someone dumped on Sirius's head-- James turns to him with a grin, teeth glinting, and says, "I have an idea."

Two hours later, O'Connell and Smith scream and run out of their dormitory, sending Sirius and James into peals of laughter. They don't get detention for it, even when the two fourth years go to Professor McGonagall with their accusations; "It's a harmless prank," she says dismissively, and Sirius likes her more knowing that it's how she responds to everyone, not just him.

"Mission one was a success," James says, chest puffed out in pride of a job well done.

"Mission one?" Sirius asks. "Is this going to be a habit?"

"Of course. We can't let them get away with it, the arseholes."

Peter and some bloke named Remus are the only dormmates in the room with them, and it's obvious they're listening, though they are pretending not to.

"The first one went off without a hitch. We make a good team," James says, elbowing him companionably. "And there's eighty-one more people we need to get. Well- maybe more like sixty?" he amends. He pulls a sheet of parchment out from his bedside table and squints at it. "Some people are on here more than once."

"You kept track?" 

"Of course." 

He's endlessly charmed by that, by how James cares so much about him that he's been keeping track of this from the beginning and never once faltered in believing they'd get revenge one day. Sirius peers over his shoulder at the list; it's not just names. "You wrote down the date?"

"And the offense."

Ink. Shoes. Snakes in bed. Bed is underlined three times. Paint-- red. Maggots. Snake-- one, big. Paint-- black. Dead mice. Black bird. Paint-- green. On and on the list goes, some with details, like the colour of the paint or the location it happened. Sirius skims the whole list and can't think of a single one that's missing. "Wow."

"What do you think-- chronological, or by severity?"

"Random," Sirius decides. "I don't want anyone to know if they're next."

They share a grin, an expression that promises not just revenge, but a puzzle that needs solving-- what exactly they should do for each of these, what will make the punishment equal the crime. They don't have time to plan before supper, which is a shame.

Sirius has it in his head the revenge is how they're going to operate, so he's surprised when-- after a passing upperclassman 'accidentally' spills burning hot soup down his back-- James flings a handful of green beans at their face without a moment's hesitation. Then, apparently deciding that wasn't enough, James throws mashed potatoes, which make a comical splat as it covers their eyes. It's enough to have Sirius laughing, forgetting for a few moments the pain prickling along his back.

James gets detention for that-- so does the second year instigator-- but he's unrepentant and winks at Sirius the moment Professor Grubbly-Plank looks away. Warmth blooms in Sirius's chest, bright and resilient and addictive. He wants it to be like this for the rest of his life.

[thelordismylightandmysalvation]

Verse of the Day - Matthew 5:6

[izzyrarepairkinkmeme]

[IZZY/CREW +FREE USE +EXHIBITIONISM]

Izzy lived and sailed off with the crew. Ed and Stede come back to the revenge after a little while.

Not being the captains and having to do crew work takes some getting used to, watching Izzy get bent over any available surface whenever the mood strikes a crew member even more.

♠

[iina-st4r]

Jjk men got my mind cumbuzzling😩

[ratsplendor]

Okay hear me out...ik u are a fiddauthor fan but consider,,,,fiddleford+Stan at their lowest having nasty freaky sex with lots of crying + stans desperate need for praise vs his inability to let himself be vulnerable (spoiler alert he gets vulnerable) okay peace and love and thank u

yoooooo I have been thinking about this ask since I woke up 👀 already vibrating I love fiddlestan sm and would love to write this!! gimmeeeee

[wiirocku]

Psalm 94:19 (NLT) - When doubts filled my mind, Your comfort gave me renewed hope and cheer.

[beatleskinkmeme]

Horror JP where John decides to trip at Paul’s in 1967. Paul joins him and the trip turns dark pretty quickly. The feeling of spiraling and death enmeshes them in a nightmare brought to life as they try to make it through the night. In their drug addled hallucinatory state they begin to have sex in a frenzy and John begins to see multitude versions of Paul grotesquely change shape as his face appears to rot and fall apart, Paul perceives John as a dark entity keeping him pinned in place through the dark holes of his eyes. They just fuck each other harder.

Filled Here