I Am A Mess - Tumblr Posts

Am I still your best friend? Do you even like me anymore or I’m just a habit for you?

✧˖ ?!— POST CONCERT! HORNY! CHEOL (NSFW!)

summary. headcanons about post concert! rly horny! subby! seungcheol

notes. the demand for scoups was there and i gotta give the people what they want!!!/j ˚⊹♡ actually subby! seungcheol is the best cheol genre there is, argue w the wall! i had a whole lotta fun writing this so i hope you enjoy :)

warnings/includes. f! reader x idol! sub! scoups, established relationship, pussy eating, riding, begging

— post concert! seungcheol who swore that he mastrubated to the thought of you every single night at every single tour spot and is sooo frustrated that he now that you are finally here- doesn't even have the energy to rly move :(

— post concert! seungcheol who still tries his best to keep up the little cocky dom! persona, knowing damn well the moment you sit down onto his dick it's overrr for him

— post concert! seungcheol who INSISTS on giving you head bc 'he has to' and 'you deserve it' resulting in the most sloppy, toe curling, lazy, hour-long pussy-eating

— post concert! seungcheol who tries his best to somehow make it seem like he's in control by moaning tiny little 'attagirl's or 'just like that's

— post concert! seungcheol who can't help but moan about how much he missed you (& your pussy) and how bad it was without you

— post concert! seungcheol who starts blabbering on how he'll buy you literally anything and everything if you pick up the pace

— post concert! seungcheol who becomes a whole whiny mess, right before coming

— post concert! seungcheol whos groans are so loud and deep that probably the whole hotel hallway has heard them (best of all: he doesn't even gaf)

— post concert! seungcheol who keeps on repeating on 'how it's all your dick'

— post concert! seungcheol who gets all sulky after sex bc 'you were so mean to him' when you didn't even put him through half the shit he does to you on a regular basis lmao

— post concert! seungcheol who snuggles up to you later, mumbling up against your skin on how he actually did actually really miss you

We applaud children for being curious…

but no one really likes a curious person.

You’re just called nosey.

also this was just the third episode of s15. and I am a mess. you mean to tell me it gets worse??? oh I fear I will not make it

type “i am” in the tags and whatever comes up first is your new mandatory kin

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

!!! this fic contains spoilers for RHRN, do not read on if you wish to remain spoiler-free!!!

It is an involuntary trust exercise. To give up what he built for half a decade, the legacy he took over, being forced to let it rest in the hands of someone else. Or: Copia is taking up his new position. It’s not an easy feat.

content: 1.8k words, gn!reader, angst, grief, hurt/comfort, some fluff and kisses, post!rhrn so spoilers, established relationship

Masterlist – Ao3 link

1 – White dust sheets cover the furniture like ghosts of a life left behind. The path forward is hidden underneath layers of insecurity and grief but as he packs up years of work in pre-used cardboard boxes it almost feels as though he cannot see the path at all.

His new office is just down the hall. It is a fast job. Two trips and his desk has become another ghost. One more trip and he has emptied out all personal belongings from the dusty shelves. The rest stays, not useful to him anymore in his new function.

It is an involuntary trust exercise. To give up what he built for half a decade, the legacy he took over, being forced to let it rest in the hands of someone else. Unlike his brothers he had no way to prepare who follows his footsteps and perhaps that is where the ache in his belly comes from – the uncertainty.

He cannot quite bring himself to unpack the boxes in his new office yet. But it is not his office anyway, Copia thinks. No, it is his mother’s office and he feels like an intruder placing his things on her desk. Her smell clings to the old fabrics, clings to him, a strong perfume that Copia has not been able to get out of his nose ever since he covered her body with yet another white sheet.

Yet another ghost.

It has not been long, he tells himself, a weak comfort. As he stands here with an old card she wrote him – Welcome Home, C! – he can hear the clicking of his mother’s shoes on the tiled floors like a faint echo that haunts the hallways of the Ministry. Everyone is busy preparing for this transitional period, mourning their Mother Superior, but now it is Copia who has to guide them, navigate them through this darkness.

He realises that he himself has footsteps to follow and that he is just as unprepared. A new era, for all of them.

“Love?”

He turns and his world lights up for a brief moment. You occupy the doorframe in a black mourning habit, the one all Siblings chose to wear in honour of his mother. Of course he finds that it suits you better than anyone else. But perhaps that is because he has felt the sturdy fabric against his wet cheeks so many times now that it means comfort, home.

“Do you still need help with the boxes?” you ask.

All he can do is shake his head. You approach and he wants to close the card, hide it away, not even sure why. You have seen the fallout, you have held him through the worst of it. Perhaps he is ashamed, in a way, that he cannot move on as fast as his new role demands of him.

“Was this from her?” you ask, nestling up to his side.

“Mhm.”

His hand is trembling lightly as you lay yours to rest on top of his. The swipe of your thumb against his bare wrist sends goosebumps down his spine and when you wrap the other arm around his waist his eyes are watering.

“Perhaps you can frame it, together with some photos,” you suggest.

He nods, leaning into your embrace as a solid rock forms in his throat. You hold him and he lets the silent tears run down his cheeks, gathering at the dip of his chin. Your thumb continues to draw slow crescents over his pulse. He can’t speak. He does not have to.

✦ ✧ ✦

2 – He is glued to the mirror.

You try not to fuss, he is nervous as is. It is first official day, after all.

“I didn’t know you had a new uniform,” you say with a lint roller in hand, joining him in the bedroom. The jacket is brand new, all black but unusual in its ornamentation, satin lapels that run from his neck towards his armpits. A clerical collar underneath sparkles against his Adam’s apple.

“I eh… splurged,” he says, cheeks dusted a bashful red.

He says it like he is wasteful, does it whenever he treats himself to something, but you also know he is wearing the same black winklepickers he wore as a Cardinal ten years ago, never replaces any pieces of clothing until he finds holes in the fabric, that he only bought new jackets when he could use them on stage to look his best for the audience. The suit is no different, it is as much a boost to his confidence as it is a display of his new status. A performance.

“It is a rather nice suit,” you note, running the lint roller down his back.

“Mhm.” He pauses, looks down at himself and tugs at the sleeves. “It is… unfamiliar.”

“You wear it well, Copia.”

He smiles and his confidence resurfaces. You find that he looks handsome in a completely new way. You have seen so many facets of him that you can tell he is beginning to mold himself into this role, even if he might not see it himself yet. In the mirror, a stranger is looking back at him through black-rimmed eyes but in time he will see himself again, a grown version.

“It is not all,” he says. “I… found something. In the desk drawer.”

He points to a velvety black box on the dresser. Inside, you find a beautiful ornament, two ruby brooches holding a bejewelled black grucifix, another ruby at the bottom. It is one of the most beautiful, elaborate pieces you have ever seen.

“A gift, I think.”

He looks uncertain when you glance up. But you have no doubt that it was meant for him, meant for today. You carefully take it out of the box, delicate as it looks it feels sturdy and well-crafted. One brooch to each lapel and the grucifix dangles over his heart. Light from the window catches in the gemstones, a prism splitting the ray into sparkles that reflect in the mirror, a spectacle of multicoloured beams flickering across the walls.

Copia watches the dancing lights, mesmerised, until the sun hides behind a cloud and the room is gloomy yet again. When you focus back on him a tear pearls from his left eye, running down his cheek and leaving a black streak in its wake. The piece is more than jewels – it is a memory, a promise, a token of trust.

“It is beautiful,” you say. “As are you, Copia. So beautiful.”

His smile is tinged with sadness but there is hope, now, too. You smooth out his jacket, admiring him for a moment, unconcealed, and he must see it in your eyes because the smile shifts until one corner of his mouth pulls into a lighthearted smirk.

“Do I get a kiss?” he asks.

You grab the satin and pull him close. One day you are going to peel him out of this jacket and it won’t feel heavy anymore.

✦ ✧ ✦

3 – You gently wipe at his under-eye. The black smudge is persistent and you stop when the skin turns red. Copia’s eyes are closed even as he holds you. Wrapped around you he feels hot to the touch, almost feverish. He has gone non-verbal since he came home and you give him the space he needs, soft touches, rest and quiet.

The tension of the day still sits in his muscles, you can feel the knots when you run your hands over his back. The hot shower did not help, nor did the pasta he barely touched for dinner. He did well, everyone said this to you today. Whether he feels it you are not so certain.

You lean in and press a kiss to the round tip of his freckled nose. He blinks at you through tired, reddened eyes, lips curving into a lazy half-smile. His hand tightens at your waist, slides underneath your shirt to feel your skin. He’s your whole world molded into the shape of a man. Love, stored in the crinkles of his crow’s feet, every line on his face, in the brushstrokes of grey at his temples, an endless supply.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whisper, trailing the curve of his spine.

His eyes open and you feel guilty for disrupting his peace. But then he pulls you ever closer, squishing, the softness of your bodies mingling with a comforting warmth.

“I don’t…” He stops, brows pulled together. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I have no doubt that you can.” You study his features, move your hand to trace the lines of tension and smooth them out. He lets you, eyelids fluttering at the soft touch. “Every day from now on will be easier, Copia. My baby, I have such confidence in you. Unshakable.”

The words stir something in him. Some wetness gathers in his odd eyes but he blinks it away. You have to fight your own tears, good tears, for how far he has come. Then Copia nods, nods again but with more conviction. A deep exhale through his nose and he swallows the doubts away.

“You are right, always,” he says. “I was Papa Emeritus IV, eh? I did that.”

“You did.” A smile, proud and amused. “And now you are Frater Imperator.”

“Mhm, I am.”

“You are the head of this church, they are still your flock, adoring you, admiring you, trusting you. None of this has changed.” You cradle his face in both hands, a firm press of your thumbs to his cheekbones. “And you are still the man I love.”

“I am?”

“Forever.”

He closes the gap himself, a grateful kiss, seeking. You try to give him what he needs, firm and soft kisses, hands roaming, legs entangles. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, deeper still until all air escapes you and a dizzy fog fills your head. He is all you know, all you want for the rest of this life you live together.

The kisses slow down, not any less deep, and he cradles your head, keeping you pressed together. There is some need building, a languid wave that fades out in ripples. You feel him stir against your leg but he is not quite here with you, not entirely, and it subsides after a moment.

He breaks away with a heavy sigh, keeps his eyes closed.

“Perhaps not tonight,” you say, stroking his hair.

He nods and rests his forehead against yours. His breath tickles your nose, the embrace tighter than before. It feels easier now, somehow, and you can picture it so clearly. The future, him, and even in your head the world is quiet as you hold him close.

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – my Ao3 – Join my tag list

me debating on my mind if i will watch episode16 live on stream tonight or im gonna wait for subs

This sums up what having body dysmorphea is like

Journal

This did not at all go where I thought it would, but it’s here. This is my first X Reader I’ve done so if you have some input, it would be greatly appreciated-

includes: Levi, Y/N

warnings: Mentions of dark thoughts

length: 2,535 words

"Cadet!" 

You were quick to glance over your shoulder, wondering how you've messed up this time. You were just about to leave the mess hall, so you were probably going to be scolded for being the last one out, or for not eating again. Levi always snapped about how he needs you at your best.

"You forgot this," the captain said, his stoney blue eyes narrowing as yours widened, "Or did you leave it on purpose?"

It was your journal, the one you were always buried in whenever you could be. You did leave it on purpose, hoping someone would find it and save you from yourself. Hoping that someone would notice all of the changes in your behavior, hoping someone would hear your silent screams. Yet, seeing that it was Levi fucking Ackerman who returned the journal? You wished you had kept suffering alone.

"And it has so many…" Levi hesitated, almost like he was trying to find the right words to string together. "So many horrific thoughts written inside of it."

You could practically feel how serious he was while he gripped your prized possession just a bit tighter. You couldn't handle the growing silence, so you broke it.

"I should know. It's mine, after all." He didn't find your joke very funny. 

Levi opened his mouth, picking his next words carefully, "What's going on with you? You haven't been yourself recently."

You mentally swore, fingers twitching at your side. Levi didn't fail to notice, making his abnormal concern grow.

"What do you mean, Captain? I'm perfectly fine." As much as you wished the forced chuckle in your voice would change his way of thinking, it didn't.

"I'm more than certain something is happening with you," his voice grew more pointed as he stared at you, "There's no point in trying to hide it. Just spit it out."

"Why would you even bother asking?" Your muttered question left your lips before you could stop it.

"I want to know because I care about you. That's something a lot of people can't say, so don't go off wasting my support," Levi's tone didn't change and you sucked in a much needed breath. 

You wearily watched him place the journal on one of the long tables in the room, the soft thud reminding you of how many hours have gone into fruitless attempts of venting out your pain.

"Stop being stubborn and tell me what's going on, cadet." He inched closer, and you stepped back in response, eyes darting to the table.

"Once again, Jean and Eren left their spots disgusting. Do you want me to clean up, or would you rather chew them out yourself?" You gave a tight smile, forcing yourself to look back at him.

"Don't change the subject," he growled, a strange blaze flaring up in his eyes. Levi noticed how you tensed and he sighed to calm himself. "The things that you wrote in that book," he started, never once looking away from you, "Those were some seriously dark thoughts, and if you honestly do feel that way, you need to talk about it. So, stop trying to be the coldhearted badass and let me know what's running through your mind."

He sounded like a parent trying to convince a child to admit they broke something. It was a bit frightening in all honesty. 

You didn't say anything, teeth digging painfully into your tongue so you would keep quiet. You had just now noticed you'd been staring at the wooden floorboards this whole time, and yet you didn't stop.

Levi noticed that you weren't going to contribute, so he did it himself.

"What are you afraid of? Do you think I'm going to be mad at you?" 

You could've kicked yourself when your panicked chuckle wormed its way into the one-sided conversation. 

"Look at me," he demanded. You didn't listen, a thick gulp being your only reaction. "Cadet, look at me." This time it came out as a snarl, and you obeyed out of pure fear. 

Levi shut his eyes for just a moment, a heavy sigh leaving him as he tried to compose himself again. You both knew that he wasn't great with feelings, but he was trying. 

"I'm not mad at you. You can tell me whatever you're going through and I'll listen. Don't ever be afraid to let someone know how you feel, that is the only way someone can understand you." You had to clench your jaw to keep a snarky remark from making the situation worse. "Stop hiding from people, stop holding on to these emotions, and thinking that by some miracle things are going to work out by keeping silent. Things don't ever work out that way, and it only prolongs the pain. It only gives time for shit to get worse. So, stop being an idiot and just tell me what's going on already." 

"You sound like you're speaking from experience," you muttered after letting his words sink in. 

You didn't get a response, so you let your gaze lower, but not drop completely. Levi waited for you. The Levi Ackerman patiently waited for you to let go of some agony. So you did.

"Sometimes," it was difficult for you to refill your lungs with fresh air, "I get these recurring dreams that make me think about the things I'd kill to forget." A fly could be heard over your quiet voice, but you had spoken, and Levi found it a big step forward.

"I see," he spoke more to himself than anything. "So that's why…" 

His words trailed off as he remembered walking past the cadet sleeping quarters in the ungodly hours of the morning and often hearing whimpers of fear and sleepy pleads for directions on what to do. His eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"You've been having those, too, haven't you?" He paused, knowing damn well that the night terrors weren't anything but a small piece to the puzzle. But it was progress. "It's not uncommon. Everyone gets those nightmares."

You resisted the urge to insist that's the reason why your problems weren't such a big deal.

"Having thoughts about the people that you've lost, the people that you'd cared about," Levi tightened his jaw, taking a deep breath through his nose and not saying anything for a heartbeat. He changed his wording, "You're allowed to feel. You're allowed to grieve and to be angry, to be hurt." It was like he was reading from the list of your emotional insecurities.

It was starting to get painfully tense, so you attempted to redirect the topic of choice.

"That's funny, considering who's speaking. You only seem slightly agitated whenever you hear about the trouble Eren is constantly causing. I'm surprised you don't have grey's, old man," you laughed in spite of yourself, the noise tense and borderline frantic.

"Writing these thoughts in this book," of course he wouldn't budge. The man's like a stone wall, despite his height. "It's probably your way of coping with what’s happened to you." 

You swallowed, glancing away before sucking on your tongue to distract yourself.

"But, you have to be able to talk to someone as well, to be able to hear your problems leave you." Levi didn't say anything after that, quietly observing how you tilted your head up to stop your brimming tears from falling.

He surprised you by taking a seat on the table's bench, a good four or five feet from your journal. "Come here," he said gently, patting his legs, "You look like you need to be held. If you feel comfortable, that is." 

"On your lap?" You asked, chest tightening. You knew all it was going to take was one hug- just one god damned hug- and you'd crumble.

"Yes, on my lap. Come on," Levi couldn't care less about your height or weight, none of it bothering him in the slightest. 

You hesitated, the exit door seeming all too tempting. You didn't leave, though, and it wasn't because Levi would catch you if you were to run, nor that he would only confront you more forcefully in the future. You knew you needed this- that's the whole reason you had left your secrets behind. But, fuck, it was so hard to make yourself sit on his lap.

"There we go." His encouragement nearly ripped you to shreds.

"What are you? Santa Claus?" You mused, eyes burning holes into your lap with how determined you were to look anywhere but. 

"Go on, let it out," Levi pushed you to speak again, this time far more effective.

"Let what out exactly? My Christmas list?" Your voice cracked, heart painfully throbbing.

"Come on, cadet," Levi breathed again, sickeningly gentle eyes looking at you.

"I wish for a cup of hot chocolate with cookies on the side," you forced a twisted smile on your face as burning hot tears started to slip down your cheek. "Maybe at least one good night's rest. O-Or a chance to go back in time." 

You were breaking down, caving in on yourself as you choked on a sob.

"I've got you."

But you weren't alone. The captain was rubbing comforting shapes into your back.

You shook violently, tremors growing worse before you gave in completely. Harsh sobs thrashed your body as you buried your face into Levi's chest, letting every bit of your pain out.

"It's alright," Levi's voice warded off the ringing in your ears. "It's going to be okay. Do you hear me? You're going to be okay."

Promises of betterment and words of comfort soothed you as you soaked his uniform with tears. Tears that you've held in for far too long, tears that represented your suffering.

"You did all you could. Stop blaming yourself for whatever happened or you'll never be able to move forward. If all you keep doing is holding onto the past, you'll stay stuck in this shitty, painful cycle," Levi told you exactly what you needed to hear as he alternated between pats and rubs on your back. 

He took a deep breath, and you heard his heart rate kick up as your crying quieted, though you didn't- couldn't- stop.

"I had two friends who died on the same damn day. People I considered my family- gone, just like that. People I'd just met, people I had just been acquainted with that morning, died later that day, too," he shared his pain, opening castrated wounds all for you. "Sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, fathers, mothers," he listed, voice wavering before he righted himself, holding you closer. "Dead. Gone. And who was in charge? I was." You felt his chest steeply rise and fall as you sniffled. 

"There are things that you'll have to live with, situations you'll be placed in that you'll have to get through." His thumb and index finger captured your chin, forcing you to look at him. "I just want you to remember that you don't have to find a way on your own. You don't have to feel like you need to take all the burden, all the pain, by yourself." 

The hand that was on your back navigated to the Scouts emblem on your jacket, gently thumbing at it. 

"That's why you have us," there was a smile dancing in his voice, though it never quite reached his face. "We can support each other." 

Your tears had calmed down to a few rogue leftovers, and you found yourself ready to slip off of his lap. Levi didn't seem to mind the massive wet stain that bled through his white button-up and onto his peck. Didn't seem to on the outside, but you knew he was a cleaning fanatic.

"My office, my doors, are always open," his tone turned sarcastically bitter, "Unless I have paperwork to fill in, or I'm cleaning up Jaeger's damn mess." He relished the small giggle that left your lips. "If neither of the two are happening, you can always come to me."

He narrowed his eyes at you, lightly flicking your forehead.

"You hear me? Always, cadet." He gently smiled at you. "Not only are my doors open, but my arms are open, too." 

You glanced away to hide the sparkle in your eyes. Your attention returned to the captain, however, when a warm hand found itself on your shoulder.

"I know that feeling of thinking everything is your fault," he swallowed, casting his gaze down before looking back at you. "That feeling of being disappointed in yourself, down in the gutter, beating yourself up and wishing that it was you instead." There was a solemn look in his eyes before he spoke again, "I know that feeling, and I know how it eats you alive." 

Levi pulled you in for another hug, resting his chin on your shoulder as he shuddered in another breath. 

"I also know the feeling of being comforted. Of being reminded that there is a tomorrow, and that things can get better." He gave you a small squeeze before pulling away, both hands on your shoulders now. "That if you make it past today, you can make it past tomorrow, too." 

He allowed you to sit back, and the words he spoke were more than welcomed.

"After everything that you've been through, there is no storm that comes your way that you're not strong enough to face," the proud gleam in his eyes spoke volumes. "And, if you feel like you can't handle it alone, you can face it with me by your side. I'll always be here to brace the storm with you."

Nothing could prepare you for what he said next.

"That is a promise, cadet."

Levi never made promises- not like this. The only thing he's ever promised was to dropkick Eren if he ever went so long without showering again.

"Now breathe," his voice reverted back to that gentle, but commanding tone. He took a deep breath with you, in and out before staring you dead in the eyes. "Everything is going to be okay. It might not be perfect, but we will make it through this. Every battle has an end. Don't go giving up until you find your ending." You felt the grip on your shoulder tighten, his Adam's apple bobbing as he continued, "Please... Hold on for me." 

That left you picking your jaw off the floor before Levi mentioned it, not able to do anything but nod. You, a cadet, had gotten him to say please.

"There is so much to live for in this life," he noticed your doubt before you even said a word. "Let's start living for the people who don't get to, who don't have a choice."

A comforting silence settled into the atmosphere. Levi smiled before standing, mentally double-checking if you were okay. "Oh, and one more thing?" You perked up when he spoke.

"I'll break your fucking legs if you talk about me being soft, cadet."

Ah. There was the Levi you knew.

"Wouldn't dream of it, captain," you said gently, proudly saluting him as he walked towards the back exit.

You would never know, but an extremely proud smile graced his features as he watched you hesitate before throwing the journal away.