#julswrites

ship: rivetra word count: 1.9k warnings: one (1) bad word genre: canon | hurtcomfort/fluff

chile! here’s my first rivetra/first aot in general fic...i just lub them a lot...a lot of u guys asked for established relationship but i lich rally could not get this out of my head i just think it’s SO cute anyways here go:)

The warmth of the open flame that illuminated Petra’s face was the only source of light at the mess hall at this time of night. Even though she knew the moon was awake and based on Gunther’s ever accurate chats that it would be full, the orb had already passed by the sole window to her right side, leaving Petra alone with her pair of candles, one in front and one to her left so that her right hand would not cast a shadow on her work. She didn’t mind the dark, though–with the nighttime always came safety. A moment to herself away from Orou’s teasing and Eld’s chattering was perfectly welcome after a day as long as today has been.

It had started off as an expedition outside of the wall that was continued from the night prior. Due to an injury in her early teens, her lower back was home to lasting pain, and sleeping on the ground, hard–and cold, too, at this time of year–was no help. Without Hange’s specially crafted medicine for her, as she’d forgotten to take it with her before they left, Petra woke up in an uncharacteristically sour mood. Without a titan in sight, the group had traveled relatively far until they’d reached the chosen stopping point to turn around. The mission was only supposed to be a day and a half, a brief expedition to scour which land beyond the wall could be suitable for farming. It was nothing short of a normal expedition until Gunther’s horse spooked and tossed him, leaving Petra bringing his horse home as he rode on Eld’s during the journey home. Hange deduced it as a concussion, though not terribly bad, once they had made it back.

It wasn’t the worst report she’d ever had to write. Levi had begun to task her months ago with writing the reports that would be sent to the king as an update for what his branch of scouts was doing, as Titan activity had been relatively low recently. Really, it had been a general offer–Petra couldn’t yet figure out why Levi didn’t want to do it himself, as he typically liked to be in charge like that–but the others complained about the task, so she took it upon herself to complete it. It’s not like she would pass up on a chance to impress her captain.

For less naive reasons, Petra was very skilled in literary talents. Her older brother taught her to read at a young age, and words kept her company as he left to join the scouts. Now, books were both a painful reminder of what was and a hope to a more peaceful future. She’d scribbled notes in the margins of pages for as long as she could remember–an analysis there, a definition from Alec there, a letter to a friend, her grandmother–all were intertwined in language. Her handwriting was precise at the worst and not unlike a printed sheet of newspaper at the best, and her abilities to describe events and plans were unparalleled within the rest of the scouts, meaning Levi was more than happy to appoint her to accomplish the chore.

However, it did mean that there were nights–like tonight–that she was up far past the sun’s setting, pencil cramped in hand, a cup of tea by her side that has gone cold hours ago. As she finished up her report and scrawled her name at the bottom, Petra folded the sheet of paper in half and secured it with twine, laying it on the table for Erwin to pick up the next morning since he was visiting. She sipped the rest of her tea, blew out the candle, and with lidded eyes, made her way back to her small bedroom.

ship: javid

era: modern | genre: hurtcomfort

word count: 960

edited: no but jellybean said it looked good

warnings: emotional abuse mention, some language

so its been a Hot Minute since ive written anything but!!! ya girl is back in the game now!!!!! anyways this hit closer to home that i thought it would uhhhhh oops

Davey’s backpack hit the ground with a thump before he even closed the door of his dorm room. He was too exhausted to even take his shoes off before collapsing onto his bed.

The sun, still out at six in the evening but slowly starting to disappear below the horizon, shone through the window and onto Davey's face. He squinched his face and muttered a string of near-silent curses, standing up to draw the navy blue curtains that hung on either side of the window.

"If you're gonna cuss like that you might as well make it loud and proud, baby--"

Davey jumped at the voice. It had come from somewhere in the room, but he couldn't quite place it until the bed opposite his rustled. Jack, apparently, was rolled up inside of all of his burgundy covers, a pillow over his head. "Oh, shit, Jack, I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were sleeping in here--" Davey paused, the corners of his mouth turning down. "You're back early."

"Mr. Jameson canceled class again so I came back to take a nap before heading over to the studio. I brought you a donut back." He wiggled under the covers for a couple more seconds before he was able to free his hands. Jack tenderly grabbed the pillow and moved it off of his face, scooted over on the bed, and patted the empty space for Davey to sit in.

He wrung his hands together with a sigh, then sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m not hungry.” He couldn't see Jack's face behind him, and even though his lack of affection wasn't unusual, he knew that Jack would be able to tell that something was bothering him. Davey pressed his chin to his shoulder, keeping his gaze down, so that he could focus on Jack’s hand, laying on top of the empty space he’d saved for him. A sky-blue splatter covered his knuckles, and his pinky and ring finger both had band-aids on them. “I failed a big test today. The one that I was worrying over.

Saying it out loud seemed to lift a weight off of his back. Davey fell into Jack’s open arms and rolled over, letting his back push into Jack’s side. “Failed how?” A smile rolled onto his face.

“Seventy-seven,” Davey whispered with a sigh, like if he said it quietly enough, he could speak it out of existence. “I got a seventy-seven, Jack. That’s just…that’s exactly like failing.” As he began to talk, Jack tangled his hands in Davey’s hair. “I don’t know, I just….I thought it would be different when I got to college. That my grades would finally mean something to my parents.”

He knew there was an intense emotion behind the words he was saying, but they only seemed to drone. He certainly hoped that Jack knew how much all of this meant to him. “And—and I know you’re going to tell me something like ‘a seventy-seven isn’t all that bad’ or whatever, but for me it is. I thought it was going to be easier. I thought…damn, Jackie, I don’t know.” Don’t cry, don’t cry. Davey could feel his shoulders shaking.

College wasn’t easier than high school. It was more work, and meaner teachers who took less time to understand the situation at home. Because now there was no situation at home. Here, he was safe from the everlasting taunts of his parents who pushed and pushed for him to be better. The parents who, no matter what he did, he could never seem to make them proud enough.

“That’s okay, baby,” Jack whispered, pressing a kiss to Davey’s head. The heat that radiated off of Jack’s body traveled up Davey’s spine and into his cheeks, flushing them a bright pink. It seemed silly to complain about something so…trivial to him. “I love you, David. Ain’t nothing in this world that could change that. There’s not a test grade you could get that could—”

“What?”

I love you, David.

He’d stopped listening after those words. Had he ever heard them before in his life? David, the name his parents had dragged through the dirt, used so tenderly. The way Jack’s silk-smooth voice rolled over the two syllables sent Davey shivers which slowly turned into sobs.

“David?”

Davey rolled over and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, not fully registering anything until Jack wrapped his arms all the way around his torso, one hand resting on his chest and the other brushing the tears off of his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say anything that would—”

“No, no, it’s…I…” Davey reached up and grabbed Jack’s hand on his face, interlacing their fingers. “Remember when we first met, and you called me Davey for the first time, and I started going by that?” He could feel Jack mutter an “mmm-hmm?” into the back of his head. “I just…it was like a fresh start. It was new. It wasn’t…it wasn’t David.”

Jack muffled his lips into Davey’s hair, gently stroking the side of his face. “No one’s—no one’s ever said ‘I love you, David,’ to me before.” He could feel the tears brimming his eyes again.

“I mean it, baby.”

Davey rolled over and stared at Jack—stared at him really hard. Maybe he was lying. Maybe he didn’t really mean it, and he was just saying it because he felt bad. He stared at Jack’s deep green eyes and stared at the freckles covering the bridge of his nose and stared at his lips, pink and chapped. Davey closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Jack’s, gently touching the tips of their noses. “I love…I love you too.”

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It wasn’t unusual for Jungkook to wake up to screaming—more specifically Taehyung’s screaming.

He dragged his feet to the living room to see an amused Yoongi and Namjoon staring at a jumping (and screaming) Taehyung.

“What’s with him?” Jungkook groggily asked.

To answer his question, Taehyung jumped on his back and screamed, “I’m engaged! I’m engaged! I’m engaged!”

“He won’t stop yelling that,” Namjoon mumbled, a sheepish smile on his lips.

Jungkook took a few seconds to process before his jaw dropped. “You’re what?”

“Engaged, Jungkook!” Taehyung showed him his ring.

blue

prompt:  a kiss that lasts so long, they are sharing each other’s breaths.

ship: ravey

era: canon | genre: fluff/hurtcomfort

word count: 814

edited: yeet no

warnings: davey is blind

its been a hot second since yall have heard from me and a HOT MINUTE since i’ve written any ravey ? anyways heres the fastest piece (e.g. i wrote the entirety of it. TODAY) ive written in a LONG time <3<3 enjoy my loves!

“what’s your favorite season?”

davey’s footsteps fell close intoline with race’s as they walked down bottle alley, their shoulders brushing with everystep. it was easier and safer than holding hands, as much as they wanted to.

race pondered davey’s question forseveral seconds before answering. “winter. what about you?” the sun was slowlystarting to go down over the horizon, casting a yellow glow over the pair.

the brunette shrugged. “i reallylike autumn,” he replied. “it’s not…it’s not too warm, or too cold, and there’sno bugs, except for this one, iguess,” he laughed gently, bumping his shoulder into race’s.

race rubbed his shoulder in mockpain. “oh, yeah? you know bugs ain’t that bad,” he whined.

“yeah, well,” davey started with apout, “i can’t see them when they’re on me and then i don’t know if it’s a goodbug or a bad bug.”

race tossed his head from side toside, considering this. “that makes sense.” the conversation lulled for severalminutes until it was dark, and race found his fingers slipping into davey’s.he, however, hesitated to hold race’s hand back, instead drawing back a coupleof steps. a look of confusion overcame his straight brows. “you ain’t gottaworry,” race reassured him, reaching again for his hand and squeezing ittightly.

“it’s dark already?” davey asked.he kept his head focused ahead, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference which wayhe looked—really, it was always dark.

“mhmm.”

“you’re not taking me back to myhouse, are you.” it was a statement, not a question. if davey was completelyhonest, he wouldn’t mind—no, he would love—staying out here in the dark withrace, holding his hand, getting to wrap himself up in a tight, warm hug fromhim. the season was summer turning to autumn and slowly, the temperature wasdropping more and more in the evenings.

“i’m gonna take all the time i canget to spend with my lover, no matter if it’s cold outside. i’ll take you backthe long way.” a chill ran through davey’s spine causing him to shudder, andrace tugged him closer with a snicker, wrapping an arm around his waist. “you’sereal pretty, david jacobs, especially in this kinda light.”

race could see the moon starting topeek over the horizon as they turned down another street, one even race wasn’tfamiliar with. its glow cast a shadow underneath his eyes from his delicatelashes. the light changed here, too, letting a blue-purple glow fall overdavey’s porcelain skin.

a flush grew on davey’s cheeks ashe turned away slightly. “you don’t know that.”

“but i do,” race said in earnest. “let me tell you, davey, you’se theprettiest boy i’ve ever laid eyes on. i mean, maybe you don’t think it, but ifall in love with you every time I can see the moon reflected in your eyes andevery time you bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing and oh, davey—evenwhen you blush like that. i fall in love, I swear it.” he paused for a second.“keeps me thinking that maybe one day i’ll be as good-looking as you,” hefinished with a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“hey,” davey whispered. “you arepretty.”

“no, i’m not, davey. not like youare, i’m just…just me. besides, you…you can’t even tell.”

“but i can,” davey said, repeating race’s words. he could feel race’s handshaking in his own. “beauty doesn’t come from the outside, love.” maybe, if hetried hard enough, he could find the words that would make race feel better.davey wasn’t that good at words to begin with, and whenever he talked to race,his stomach seemed to become a giant pile of mush and also butterflies. “i seeyou pretty when you’re laughing with all the kids at the lodging house, and isee you pretty when you’re stumbling over the pronunciation of a word, and isee you pretty when i get to hold your hand and hold you close.”

with that, he wrapped a hand aroundrace’s waist and pulled their bodies together in the middle of the street.davey’s lips rested on race’s forehead and he held him there until he stoppedtrembling. “just because i can’t see you doesn’t mean i don’t know you’rebeautiful, tonio.”

he whispered the words tenderlyagainst race’s skin until he dipped down for a kiss, cupping race’s chin in hishand long enough that they seemed to be sharing each other’s breaths. racepulled away with a gasp. “you’re a catch, david.”

“i wouldn’t want to be anyoneelse’s.”

hand in hand, they walked back tothe jacob’s household, and parted with nothing more than a second goodnightkiss on the cheek. oh, yes, it was goodto be his.

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yah!!! u guys i love davey so much i will always write hcs for him (thanks for waiting for this!!) a lot of these can be both modern & canon :)

› davey tends to saythe name of the person he’s talking to at the end of sentences. oftentimes, hedoesn’t even realize it, even if he’s done it several consecutive times. hegets really flustered whenever someone points it out, but it hasn’t stopped him.it’s in his subconscious, so he doesn’t even have a reason for doing it.

› he carries around asmall bag filled with not exactly emergency supplies, but what he describes as“minor catastrophe supplies”. in his pouch, one can find nail clippers, a nailfile, a pair of tweezers, a small compact mirror, a bottle of ibuprofen and oneof aspirin, some chapstick, pads and tampons, a pen, and a couple of bandaids.at first, all of the boys laughed at him for always having it on him, but, oneat a time, after using one or more of the supplies from the bag, slowly startedthanking him for always being prepared.

› davey is quick tolearn other people’s love languages, especially any romantic partners he has oris interested in. he will adjust his behavior accordingly to make his significantother as happy as possible. it’s not him being manipulative in order to winbrownie points, it’s him being a genuinely kind and caring person.

› he has a hard timeopening up to people. in grade school, he was shamed and teased for hisprecocious interests surrounding the civil war, medical history, and latin.while continuing to study these subjects, he no longer shared his findings withanyone in fear of being made fun of. this escalated into him no longer sharingmany things about himself—new subjects he discovered that intrigued him, songsthat he really liked, his favorite kind of sandwich. he simply thought nothinghe had to say was worth sharing. he’s still learning to share his thoughts andopinions with others, but he’s doing better than he was.

› sometimes he findsit hard to explain exactly what he wants to say, especially when it comes toromantic interests. this being said, he likes to leave notes and cards for his loveto find. in these, one will find heart-sickeningly sweet messages that he’sconstructed. without the pressure of having to reply in real time, davey can putwords together like no one else. often accompanied by these notes are little chocolateor pressed flowers or, if he’s feeling a little frivolous, a gift card.

› davey does not haveneat print. his cursive is beautiful and completely readable, but his regularhandwriting is so tiny and scrunched up that sometimes even he has troublereading what he’s written. he’s got “doctor handwriting”, as jack calls it.

› davey has a small birthmarkon his lower back. it’s just a little splotchy oval and it took him a reallylong time to love it.

› his fight or flightinstinct is, to say the least, not grounded very well. it depends on the dayand probably on what he ate for breakfast. davey jacobs is perfectly capable ofholding his own in a fight—it’s not likely that he’ll win, but he can keephimself from being beat up until someone else comes to help him.

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hi these are platonic but could be take in a romantic sense if you ship them! enjoy! <3

› jojo and elmer metin sunday school at the young age of seven years old, making theirs one of thelongest-standing friendships within the group. elmer was the first person toshorten “jorgelino” into “jorgie”, which, over the course of their friendshipand learning his lengthy full name, became jojo, the name that he now goes by.on more serious occasions, elmer will still revert to his first nickname forjojo.

› elmer fell out oftouch with the church at around age thirteen when he realized that he wasn’tstraight. both confused, the boys grew apart from each other, speaking less andless over the years until jojo tried to bring him back with the notion that thechurch will accept elmer the way he is. he isn’t as involved with the church ashe used to be but will join jojo about once a month and for important holidays.

› they love to go seelive theater together. elmer was an avid theater kid (albeit only workingbackstage, usually with costumes) in high school, and introduced jojo to it bytaking him to see waitress on broadway. jojo fell absolutely in love and nowthey both enjoy supporting their local community theaters by helping out on setdays, volunteering backstage, and seeing the shows.

› elmer has amassed alarge collection of blankets and throw pillows in his house. jojo contributesto this about once every three months with a small gift to elmer.

› jojo taught elmerhow to read. it was a long, and, at times, very frustrating process for elmer,who often wanted to give up. with gentle pushes and prods, jojo was able toincrease his confidence in reading, not quite understanding why he had suchtrouble with a language he already spoke almost fluently. jojo discovered thatelmer was actually dyslexic, which was giving him a much harder time puttingthe words together. slowly, elmer was able to pick up the language, and for hissixteenth birthday, jojo gifted him his copy of the great gatsby.

    » i’m just…i’m stupid. i can’t do it. allthe letters, they’re…they’re wrong.

    » look at me, elmer. you’re not stupid.you’re so smart! you know two languages. just because you struggle withsomething doesn’t make you dumb, okay?

› jojo always bitsthe tip of whatever he’s writing with and elmer is pretty convinced that oneday it is going to kill him

› elmer doesn’t dodangerous things, but he certainly is very clumsy. he’s got scratches up anddown his arms, scrapes on his knees, and bruises covering his legs. he oftenturns corners too fast and runs backwards or waves his arms extremelyhyperactively. jojo stopped trying to get him to calm down a long time ago, andinstead carried around a box of band-aids for him (elmer’s favorites are thekid band-aids that have cool patterns and characters on them. he collects themon his body like boo-boo stickers).

› they love to volunteer!anywhere is fair game—soup kitchens, community gardens, pregnancy centers—but theirabsolute favorite spots to volunteer are animal shelters. one of these sheltersis actually where jojo got his cat, marshy (it’s short for marshmallow, he letelmer name her, of course). elmer also comes over and watches mushy when jojohas to be out of town.

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einstein

ship: spalbert

era: modern | genre: ,,chaos

word count: 814

edited: ha! as if

warnings: some language, spot is afraid of heights, just bros being dumb

so al and spot have just moved into their new apartment. also they’re dumb. i love them sorry this probably wasn’t as soft as u wanted but theres definitely no angst in it!

“baby, the light’s out.”

albert threw his bagdown on the corner of the couch that spot wasn’t sitting on. he sighed, castinga longing glance down the hallway. “not even a hello?”

spot smirked. “i wentout and got bulbs but i forgot to get a step stool. i was hoping you could doit when you got back.”

with a shake of hishead, albert ruffled spot’s hair, pressed a kiss to the top of his head, andpadded down the hallway, glancing up at the light. he flicked the light switchseveral times—sure enough, the light wasout. albert reached his arm up to unscrew it, but he couldn’t quite touch it.

damn, he thought with afrown. he knew the high ceilings that had drawn them to this place would havebeen a problem at some point. albert stood up on his tiptoes, and still a hairtoo short, stumbled to the left and hit his shoulder on the wall.

“bustin’ up our newapartment already, huh?” spot jeered from the couch.

albert rolled his eyes.“grab a bulb and get your ass over here. it’s still too far for me to reach.”

spot muttered somethingas he tossed his book down on the cardboard box that held their coffee table aswell as a bookcase, grabbed a lightbulb, and hopped over more boxes strewnabout the room. the mess drove spot wild, but albert promised that they wouldbe completely moved in and cleaned up soon enough.

“i’m gonna put you onmy shoulders, alright? then you’ll be able to change the bulb.” he reached outand took it from spot, who threw his hands up in protest.

“no way, al, i’m notstupid. i’m too heavy for you to carry like that.”

“i can deadlift two hundredand sixty pounds. get on my shoulders.”

albert crouched down and,rolling his eyes, spot situation himself on top of albert’s shoulders. heslowly stood up, ignoring spot’s pleas (“albert, bitch, i’m—i’m hitting theceiling—“) and handed him the lightbulb with glee.

spot nearly whapped himupside the head but was too afraid that his boyfriend would drop him, no matterhow strong he was. “you just did this because you didn’t want to change ityourself, didn’t you?”

albert snickered. “really,i couldn’t reach it, but there’s nothing i love more than holding my boyfriend—”

spot, still hunchedover and now with the broken bulb in his hand and the new one in the ceiling,flicked albert on the head. “come on, put me down, you asshat.”

“oh, no, we’re going onan adventure!” albert ducked out of the hallway with spot clinging desperatelyto his head. “you’re not gonna fall, baby, i’m not gonna let you—”

“al, you know how i feel about heights, yabastard—”

“we’ve got a brand-newapartment,” albert started, crouching down so spot could slide off, then facinghim, “and you’re not gonna let me take you on rides all around it, now that we’vefinally got the room?” spot simply glared at him, rubbing his arms. “it doesn’tmatter, baby.” albert dipped down, pressing a kiss to spot’s forehead. “i can’twait to change more lightbulbs with you.”