#it also has one of my favorite lines that was originally supposed to go into the ring reveal but i couldnt make fit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

plutowrites · 3 months

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𝘼𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣'𝙨 𝘾𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙉𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙨 𝙔𝙤𝙪! (reworked)

important: I rewrote this fic (favorite Levi piece i’ve ever written) because I’ve been planning to do so for ages. I remember writing the original version in one night, and it was the most fun I’ve had writing a fic. I wanted to rewrite it because I knew it could be improved significantly, and in my humble opinion, this version is indeed a million times better! Just like the first time, I had so much fun working on this and making changes to improve the flow, fix typos, and include some extra fluff here and there. If you’ve read this before, I hope you can give it another try! mwahhh ♡

➸pairings: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

➸synopsis: the one where levi gets you as an assistant against his will and it turns out he needed you more than his company ever did

➸genre: enemies-ish (levi is just levi and y/n doesn’t get him yet) to friends to lovers, pining, modern au, fluff

➸contains: lots of sarcasm (Levi), profanity (again, Levi), mentions of food and eating. if there’s anything i missed pls let me know! Also completely sfw btw (as it usually is)

➸wordcount: 5.7k (updated word count)

➸(original) note: ok so I totally forgot Levi’s bday takes place on christmas so just ignore that fact, thank you :) i really hope you guys enjoy this one, i really enjoyed writing it. like a lot. as in this is my favourite piece i’ve ever written ♡

“Prior work experience?” Mr.Ackerman asks, his dark eyes scanning over you like you’re a puzzle he can’t be bothered to solve.

As the question hangs in the air, you find yourself shifting uneasily from one foot to the other. The impulse to talk with your hands, a habit when you’re feeling nervous, fights for release. You can sense mr. stone-face in front of you might not appreciate such animated conversation, or a one-person mime show so you resist the urge. “Well, let’s see,” you start, trying to recall your job history. “I was a sales associate at a retail store, a freelance writer for a few local magazines and websites, a long-term babysitter for three very naughty yet wonderful french children, oh and I briefly worked as a waitress— that was when I was eighteen but—”

The man interrupts you with a dry click of his tongue, his patience clearly wearing thin. “I mean, do you have any experience in this line of work?”

His question catches you off guard, prompting a frown. Isn’t he aware that every job has its messes? You’ve been part of the cleanup crew more times than you can count, and not to mention when you were a babysitter, you had to constantly tidy up after school aged children and the mess that always seems to follow them wherever they go. Whose fault is it that he’s not impressed by your eclectic job history?

Mr. Ackerman pinches the bridge of his nose, cutting through your thoughts, and exhales, “Can you f—cking clean?”

“Of course I can clean,” You snap back, your own patience fraying. “You hired me for this position, right? Besides, I’ve already passed the interview so why this interrogation now?”

Ugh. You were not expecting to get grilled at 8:30 in the morning today. Is this what the onboarding process at Mr. Ackerman’s Cleaning Services looks like?

He looks past you, probably wishing he could swap you with the agreeable plant behind you. “I didn’t hire you, Erwin did,” he clarifies, like that’s supposed to mean something to you. You watch him take a sip from his mug. The way he’s holding the cup intrigues you with his long, slender fingers barely clasping its rim yet he manages it with an effortless grace.

You remembered Erwin during your interview, the handsome blond man with broad shoulders and thick eyebrows. He was the one who asked the majority of the questions while his counterpart remained oddly quiet. Mr. Ackerman did, however, chime in near the end to pester you about how often you washed your hands. You fold your arms across your chest, defensively, “Had no idea you were against the idea of me.”

You remember when you got the position; a quick phone call with Erwin approximately 30 minutes after your interview, where he tells you that you had in fact gotten the job. You felt impressed with yourself. You knew it was the shorter, dark haired man that ran the business, and considering how indifferently he was behaving during the interview, you were already looking at new postings online when your phone rang. Getting the job was like passing a test you thought you had completely bombed.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was against hiring at all; I don’t need an assistant.” His tone is dismissive, yet his physical state—a sling on his right arm and a fracture boot on his left foot—tells a story of necessity, not choice. You want to teasingly ask how the other guy looks but you bite your tongue instead.

Maybe he’ll share what happened to him over time but for now, you won’t pester him about it. Based on this interaction alone, you know asking him such a personal question is not the best route to go. Mr. Sunshine seems like the type of no-nonsense, stick-in-the-mud that doesn’t appreciate a little conversation to make the day’s work go by faster. Unluckily for him though, you were the opposite of that.

“Mr. Ackerman,” you call out his name uneasily, feeling a mix of dread and embarrassment. Your boss had left you alone to retrieve something and in that time he was gone, you had already made a huge mistake. As Levi comes back into the kitchen, you notice his focus is on trying to put on thick, black sterile gloves instead of your blunder.

“Just Levi,” he corrects you without turning to face you. You grow more nervous.

“Okay, Levi…” You draw out his name, hoping it might soften the blow. “Um, where might one find a mop?”

His turn is cinematic, a perfect pivot of disbelief as his eyes land on the ocean of sticky raspberry lemonade—and you, the unfortunate island at its center. The same lemonade the kind owner of the house you were cleaning left out for you two to drink. The jug, now empty and rolling to a stop at his boot, seems to mock you both. He can’t seem to peel his eyes away from it.

“I was gone for five f—cking seconds.” The utter shock in his voice, evident.

“I didn’t peg you as a lemonade type of guy. I can make you some more if you’re that sad about it,” you awkwardly quip, trying to ease the tension in the room and failing, pathetically.

Levi’s response is flat, “You were supposed to help clean up messes, not create—or become them.”

Ouch.

By the end of the shift, Levi ended up doing most of the work which thoroughly impressed you. You’re certain that if he wasn’t limited by his fractured bones, he would cut his cleaning time by, at the very least, half. Still, he completed all the tasks before the client was back and with time to spare at that. Your role, it seemed, was relegated to fetching and carrying— you were simply a mobile extension of his toolkit. Disinfectants, buckets, and other cleaning materials pass from the van to his waiting hand, and your efforts were aimed at being useful, or at least not a speed bump in his way.

Anything Levi could do with one hand and one leg, he’d do it and everything else, he’d at least try. You felt more like a liability than an employee but that only made you more determined to be better next time, you wanted to prove to him that you could actually do your job and be good at it.

You are good at things.

You just needed to mess up a few times first.

Here’s what you know so far about your boss: He’s mastered the art of drinking tea while driving, never spilling a drop, even one-handed. His social circle is super tight-knit, featuring exactly two friends—one being Erwin Smith, who you’ve met already, and the other is Hange, who, from your top-notch eavesdropping skills, seems to bear the brunt of Levi’s scolding.

And lastly, you’ve learned that Levi’s vocabulary is dripping with colorful language.

“That’s not clean,” comes his voice from behind you, prompting an eye roll before you shove the plate back under the running faucet. A half-hearted swipe with the sponge and a too-forceful toss into the sink’s other side result in a loud clash. “Dirty and probably f—cking broken now, too,” Levi comments, sounding bored.

“Sorry,” you mutter. This marks the first time today he’s felt the need to correct you—a personal victory. You’ve been improving, receiving fewer icy critiques with each passing day. Maybe Levi’s just run out of energy for constant corrections, or perhaps he’s grown accustomed to your unique… flair. Either way, you’re grateful for the silence.

“You’re done, brat. Go home.”

“Don’t you need help with the counters?”

“I got it.”

You nod at this, turning off the water and drying your hands on the apron’s front-pocket towel, relief washing over you as the day wraps up. You can’t help but wonder what Levi does after hours—probably waits for you to leave so he can meticulously re-clean everything. But, you figure, if he really doubted your skills that much, he wouldn’t bother waiting for your exit to do it.

“Good job today.”

Levi’s words catch you off-guard, nearly causing you to gasp. The Levi Ackerman, offering praise? Have you smelled too many cleaning solutions? Are you imagining things?

He doesn’t see your shocked expression, your mouth hanging open in surprise. You quickly stifle a smile.

Maybe, working with Levi Ackerman won’t be the nightmare you had anticipated.

It was uncommon for the Ackerman company to have a client that requested cleaning services for any place other than their home but on some rare instances, the business would get one that would request Levi for a much larger setting.

Today, you two were cleaning hotel rooms.

“I take it this isn’t your first rodeo,” you comment, noting how Levi, despite being down to just two operational limbs, zips through tasks with astonishing speed. Your job is to vacuum the ugly, vomit green carpet, while Levi single-handedly makes the queen beds look pristine—a feat that seems Herculean.

He signals you over, instructing you to strip the beds so he can check for bedbugs. “I’ve cleaned here before, yes,” he says with a frown, urging you to lift the mattress higher. “No, higher. Y/n. Higher. Are you making fun of my height?”

“No!” you protest, but the smirk on your face betrays you. You could swear you see the corners of Levi’s mouth twitch in response. This is the first time you’ve ever seen your boss smile.

Kenny Ackerman, Levi’s uncle, is the polar opposite—always grinning and brimming with charm. His visits, armed with homemade lunches for Levi and flirty comments for you, are a welcome break from the norm. Levi, one time catching you staring at the lunch Kenny brought in a brown paper bag, admits his uncle started bringing food over when he first got hurt.

“Is Ken really your uncle, or more like a family friend uncle?“ You inquire as you both move to the next suite, settling into a comfortable work rhythm. Levi seems unfazed by your curiosity, which you’ve piqued frequently over the past few weeks.

He ignores your question but raises an eyebrow at you, “Ken?”

You press on, asking if Kenny might be a close friend of his dad’s, given their dissimilar appearances. Levi’s reaction to the mention of his father is a clear signal to change the subject.

"Fluff the pillow on your side, brat,” he instructs next.

You’re not sure what constitutes fluffing but you attempt to do so anyway by gently pressing down on the soft pillow. You can feel the heat of Levi’s glare torching you but when you look up at him, he looks sort of amused. “What palace were you raised in?”

“Huh?”

“Let me rephrase that then—do you not know what fluffing a pillow is?”

“I just did it!”

“No. What you did was give that pillow a shitty massage. Give it to me.” After you hand it to him, Levi aggressively demonstrates what he wants you to do but it looks awkward because he’s doing it with one arm. “F— ck,” he curses under his breath. “Maybe I should hire an assistant for this shit.”

You can’t help but smile, recognizing this interaction for what it is—Levi’s way of opening up. These past weeks have shown you that his gruff exterior hides a form of friendly banter, warming you from the inside out whenever you get to experience it.

You’ve actually begun to look forward to Levi’s humour.

Odd.

You have got to stop staring and you know this. It’s just whenever he’s preoccupied with something and his concentration is laser focused, you can’t keep your eyes off him. You’ve convinced yourself that this was the safest way you could be semi-creepy and so far, it’s proven to be effective.

Right now, he’s on a very urgent and pressing phone call, at least that’s what it looks like to you. Just the mere thought of Levi taking notice of you gawking at him from above through a crack in the curtains is enough to send you spiralling. And yet here you are…still…

“Y/n, you’re staring.”

Shit.

Thankfully, it’s Erwin who catches you, not Levi. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you scramble for an excuse. “No, I w-wasn’t. I was j-just—”

Erwin’s laughter cuts you off, deep and rich. “It’s fine. I stare at him all the time. The difference is he doesn’t cuss you out the way he does me.”

Your heart skips a beat. “What do you mean? You think he’s noticed me staring?” You sneak another glance at Levi, who’s now expressing his disdain for the caller, blissfully unaware of your current predicament.

“Most definitely. And his silence on the matter is telling,” Erwin says with a reassuring smile. But his words leave you more curious than comforted. What does Levi’s silence mean? He continues, “It’s his birthday tomorrow since I know he wouldn’t dare tell you. Do what you wish with that information.”

As if he had a special sixth sense that alerted him that he is the topic of discussion upstairs, Levi waltzes into his office and squints with suspicion at the two of you huddled in a hush-hush conversation. “Oi, eyebrows. Don’t you have a vulnerable citizen to harass for their vote somewhere?”

Erwin shakes his head as he laughs. Looking at you, he says, “Don’t listen to him. I’m not a dirty politician.”

“You’re definitely dirty, get off my chair.”

One thing you wonder about when you see these two in action is how they ever became friends. They aren’t exactly drowning in similarities or mutual interests but you couldn’t deny that there is a deep-rooted respect that goes further than what you’re able to decipher. You do know that Erwin owns the entire building and he lets Levi rent office space and storage rooms here but you question which came first: the business relationship or the friendship?

“Before I head out,” Erwin turns to face you, “I can count on your vote, right? For the upcoming election?” He asks, raised eyebrows and all. The surrounding air is filled with his scent. His woodsy cologne is thick but pleasant—it suits him.

Before you’re able to answer, Levi cuts you off, “My office is not a breeding ground for your pathetic campaign efforts.”

“My building.”

“F—ck off.”

You smile at their banter— their exchange is a familiar dance, one you’ve grown accustomed to observing. But your thoughts are elsewhere, pondering Levi’s upcoming birthday. You’re grateful Erwin mentioned it; he’s right, Levi would never share that information himself.

You find yourself wanting to do something for him— maybe get him a gift? What started off as a hostile, awkward work relationship has blossomed into a real friendship and you would never let a friend’s birthday go by without doing a little something special for them.

Levi also is a great boss, who deserves a birthday treat.

Perhaps there’s more to your admiration than you’re willing to admit quite yet.

Arriving at Levi’s office early in the morning, you’re greeted by the sight of him on his laptop, deeply engrossed in his work, his fingers flying across his keyboard. The morning light catches in his dark hair— the sun rays highlighting his intense gray-blue eyes. You can’t help but be captivated as he brushes his hair back with a weary hand. You lose your mind when he does that; he’s blissfully unaware of how mind-blowingly attractive he is.

You linger in the doorway awkwardly, feeling suddenly out of place, reminiscent of a child caught in a mischievous act. When Levi finally notices you, his sigh fills the room. “It’s your day off.”

Taking his acknowledgment as an invitation, you step inside, cheerfully reminding him, “It’s your birthdaaaay,” your voice in a tune.

Almost immediately he retorts,“Exactly why I gave you a day off. A treat for me.”

You ignore him. “I wanted to take you out for breakfast.”

“I don’t pay you that much,” he scoffs, still tapping away on his keyboard.

He’s wrong, Levi pays you more than you’ve ever been paid in your life, even more than when you were working at that super pretentious magazine that bragged about how well they treated their employees. Turns out their idea of spoiling their staff was a pizza party every third Sunday of the month. It was pitiful. Levi Ackerman believes in a living wage. Levi Ackerman is a good man.

“Sit down, will you? You’re stressing me out just standing there,” he says, his eyes softening at you for a moment, allowing you a glimpse of his gentler side.

With a sheepish grin, you pull up a chair, the noise seeming to amplify in the quiet office. You quickly apologize for the disruption, settling into the seat across from him.

“We can grab something to eat once I’m done with a few things. Is that okay with you, princess?”

“Anything for you, birthday boy,” you respond warmly, beaming at him.

He veils his amusement with a face of semi-disgust, “Vile.

“You know, when someone says they want to take you out for breakfast, there’s usually a time limit involved.” It’s now 12:03 pm, and your patience, though thinly stretched, hasn’t snapped—yet. Levi’s gaze softens, a hint of guilt flickering in his eyes. Rushing to lighten the mood, you add, “I’m kidding. I’m more of a brunch person, anyway.”

“And what about my preferences?” His voice, gentle and distant, pulls at something inside you.

“Of course, it’s your birthday,” you remind yourself aloud, tapping your fingers against the edge of his desk. “So, what do you like, Levi?”

The pause before he answers is loaded, his look implying you ought to know his preferences by heart. “I like silence when I work,” he finally says.

Right. You nod and mime locking your lips, leaning dramatically back in your chair, only to find yourself fighting off sleep shortly after.

“Time to wake up, princess. I have a task of royal importance for you,” Levi’s low, velvety command has you instantly alert. “You’re going to answer all my texts. They’re birthday wishes; just read them out and reply.”

Grinning at the trust he’s placing in you, you take his phone and start sifting through the messages. “Wow, didn’t peg you for Mr. Popular,” you tease. Levi rolls his eyes and then urges you to continue, unfazed.

Your eyes widen as you encounter messages from unexpected senders. “Uhm, I see some local celebrities in here. Wanna explain, Levi?"

“Just friends. And mind your business,” he grumbles.

Reading a message from Hange aloud, you watch his reaction closely. “Happy birthday, shortstack. I promise I’m not planning anything extravagant for you but just so we’re on the same page, define extravagant winky face,” you echo their playful tone.

“You’re smiling,” you point out, unable to resist.

“Hange’s full of it. Skip that one,” he dismisses, though his brief grin tells another story.

As the day stretches into evening, with work piling up and plans going awry, you can’t help feeling a mix of disappointment and defeat. Was this the universe’s way of suggesting you rethink your interest in Levi?

“I’m sorry,” Levi finally breaks the silence, noting the time—6:17 pm. Your attempt to brush off the day’s letdown with a smile doesn’t fool him.

“I’m sorry you had to spend your birthday in an office,” you shrug.

“It’s not about my birthday, I just hate making you wait,” he says, sincerity lacing his words.

You try to wave it off, “Water under the bridge.”

He surprises you then, “Can I take you out to dinner?”

“It’s your birthday,” you protest, the absurdity of the situation not lost on you.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” he quips, his signature dose of sarcasm in his voice.

“The whole point of me coming here was to take you out Levi!”

He sighs while standing up. Reaching for his coat, which had spent the day forgotten over his chair, he juts his chin towards the door. “Fine. So take me out then.”

You had pegged Levi for the type to frequent pretentious, overpriced restaurants — the kind that serves a single asparagus spear drizzled with truffle oil and charges a fortune. So, when he mentioned knowing a place for dinner just a couple of streets over, you couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. Despite dressing decently for Levi’s birthday, you weren’t in anything particularly fancy. And Levi, always impeccably dressed as if he were campaigning for office alongside Erwin, would surely fit in anywhere he chose. You remind yourself to relax; after all, it’s just dinner.

“I hope you like Indian food,” Levi says as you reach the destination. He holds the door open for you, the gentleman that he is at heart. You didn’t just like Indian food; you adored it, savored it every chance you got.

“Yeah, I don’t mind it,” you shrug casually, trying to mask your excitement.

Once seated by a friendly teenage waitress, you take in the ambiance of the restaurant. It’s a cozy, bustling hole-in-the-wall, filled with lively conversation and vibrant energy. It’s loud enough to make you reconsider Levi’s alleged preference for silence. If he can enjoy his time in a place like this, he can surely handle your occasional chattiness at work.

“This is a cute little place,” you admit, taking in the bright decor and the charming, unlit lanterns on each table.

“Family-owned too,” Levi grunts, passing you a menu.

You beam at him, “I like that.”

After ambitiously ordering nearly everything on the menu, eager to sample the array of dishes, you start bombarding Levi with questions. “Have any siblings?”

“No, and you’ve already asked me that before. Running out of questions?” he teases.

“Pets?”

“No.”

“Are you in a relationship?”

He chokes on his water, fixing you with a stern look. “Y/n.”

“What? You know I’m nosy. You should be prepared by now,” you lean in, undeterred by his reaction, “Have you ever been in a relationship?”

“Yes.”

“Are you in one right now?”

A beat passes. “No."

His hesitation sparks your curiosity further. "But you hesitated. Why did you hesitate, Levi?”

“Holy shit—” He’s cut off as the waitress returns, skillfully balancing the array of dishes you’d ordered. You offer her an apologetic smile, silently vowing to tip generously for the trouble.

As the tantalizing aromas of the dishes fill the air, you resist the urge to dive in immediately, mindful of the impression you want to leave on Levi. However, his encouragement, “Eat. You’re not fooling anyone,” paired with your enthusiasm for the rogan josh placed directly in front of you, quickly shatters any pretense of sophistication.

“Shut the hell up,” you gasp between bites, your initial reservations forgotten in favor of savouring the delicious food.

“Oi, slow down. You’ll choke,” Levi warns, amusement lacing his voice.

“This is so good, Levi,” you manage to say, your expression one of pure delight.

He chuckles to himself, looking away as he does so. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him laugh like that. You study his face, wishing you could capture this moment in a recording so you won’t ever forget it. It’s fine, you think to yourself. You just have to memorize the sound of his laugh and live off of it forever.

Eventually Levi says, “Why don’t you try this one too,” he pushes the plate of lamb biryani over to you, patiently waiting for you to take some.

This has to be your love language—sharing food.

You’re so happy you never want to leave this table, or Levi. Mostly, Levi. And this biryani.

“Do you like your job?” His question startles you. It came out of nowhere.

You swallow your food. “I do.”

Cocking your head to the side, you watch as he struggles to find the right words to use to form his questions. His eyes lock with yours and this time they stay there. “I’m not too…overbearing?” he asks, gently. Almost shyly.

“You’re the perfect amount.”

“Are you happy?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Levi Ackerman, owner of Ackerman’s cleaning services?”

“That’s the opposite of what I’m trying to do.”

“I’m happy working. I’m actually happiest working with you,” you admit, heat rising to your cheeks. Levi doesn’t say anything but you read something on his face. Relief? Maybe.

Eventually you realize it was Levi looking pleased with your answer.

“Cleaning is an honorable job,” you say after Kenny has left. He had made some stupid joke about Levi’s work despite how popular and very needed his services are.

“Y/n, quit it. Seriously. I don’t give a shit.”

“No, I know. I do, I just…” You take a deep breath in and turn to face him. He’s wearing his usual scowl on his face—the curve of his mouth slightly turned downward and his nose is scrunched up the tiniest bit. You could just about kiss that wrinkle between his eyebrows away if he’d let you. Smiling, you finish, “I just wanted you to know.”

“I enjoy spending time with you.”

You feel your stomach perform its now-famous acrobatics, seemingly attempting to tie itself in knots. Laughing nervously, you manage to say, “That’s good because we do spend a lot of time together. It would be awkward if you didn’t like me, right?”

Levi exhales deeply, a sign you’ve missed the mark. “You’re not getting it. With other people, I’m always on edge, wondering if I’m being friendly, engaging, or polite enough. Constantly checking if my permanent resting scowl has scared someone off again. It’s exhausting. People drain me, but the ones who don’t… I prefer to keep them close.”

“So, you’re saying you want me around indefinitely?” you push, hope coloring your tone.

“I’m saying thank you. You—” he stops himself when he catches you hanging onto every last word coming out of his mouth, waiting for the rest. He rolls his eyes a little bit which makes you smile even harder.

“Yeah?” You pester him, not willing to let the moment pass.

“Nothing.”

“Say it.”

“F—ck off.”

Undeterred, you flutter your eyelashes in a playful, last-ditch effort. “Please? I’d really love to hear what you were about to say.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he relents. “You make it okay to be myself.”

You laugh, “Levi, I don’t think you’re aware of how okay you are.”

He smiles the tiniest bit, “Charming.”

“No, you know what I mean. You’re obviously more than okay!”

“Mhm,” he murmurs, beginning to walk away but not without leaving his hand lingering in the air behind him—a silent invitation to grab onto it. If there’s anything you look out for, it’s the opportunity to touch Levi and in this case, to hold his perfect hand in yours. You follow him as he leads you back to that restaurant he first took you to.

“Have you guys kissed yet?” Hange leans towards you, excitedly waiting for your response. You catch Levi’s eyes on you from across the room but lately, they seem to always be on you. He’s pretending to be engaged in a way too animated conversation with Erwin and his politician buddies. Poor guy.

“Please, we’re not even a thing yet,” you snort, waving away the ridiculousness of the question.

“Okay, well, does Levi know that you’re not a thing? Because he already bought matching stuff for you at his condo.”

“What? really?”

Hange lists the items: cat mugs, slippers, and even matching gloves.

“He’d have a fit if he knew you spilled this top secret info,” you say, feeling a mix of excitement and disbelief.

Hange waves off the potential threat to their well-being with a scoff. “Oh, he’d definitely kill me. But it was too juicy not to share,” they wink, leaving you grinning from ear to ear.

You were finally at Levi’s impeccably clean and tidy place and you have to stop yourself from looking around for all the things Hange mentioned earlier. You’re sitting in the living room, on his comfortable green couch while Levi is making you a cup of tea in the kitchen. You wonder if he hid the matching mugs in the back of his cabinet. When will he think it’s an appropriate time to show them?

Or.

What if they weren’t even for you—what if there was someone else in his life he’s willing to be all matchy-matchy, cutesy-cutesy with?

Levi eventually comes out with two non-matching mugs; one for you and one for him. You feel a little disappointed when you see them but you swallow it down. “I should’ve been the one making the drinks. I’m not the one who’s injured.”

“Please, you watch me mop floors and wipe windows on one foot without ever offering to help. I even catch you smirking sometimes.”

You bite back a grin. “Hey!” You shout. He’s not entirely wrong but you know he would never let you intervene with his little tasks like mopping the floor or wiping down windows— they were therapeutic acts to him. What kind of monster would take that away from a man? Exactly.

“I hope you’re not completely traumatized by that gathering. I needed you there, I wouldn’t have been able to survive it without you.”

“I’m glad to be your knight in shining armor tonight,” you tease, taking the cup of tea from him and turning your body towards his. “Does Erwin usually host stuff like that?”

Levi sends you a look. “Always. And of course I had to choose a f—cking politician to be friends with.”

You chuckle, “Between Erwin, Hange, and me, you’re good to never have another social interaction for the rest of your life.”

He laughs out through his nose, similarly to how a dragon would breathe fiery flames out its nostrils. “I must be some extrovert magnet.”

“You are! Even with that permanent scowl on your face.” Your beautiful, beautiful face, you want to add. “Levi Ackerman, you are a prize. The prize.”

His eye-roll is theatrical, but you catch a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“Are we a thing?” you ask gently, after some time.

“A thing?” He repeats after you, quietly.

“Like, you know,” you bite your lip. This could potentially be a dumpster fire of a conversation. Awkward and embarrassing depending on how he responds. “—like a couple.”

He sets down his cup on the coffee table, probably sensing the seriousness of the moment, and you do the same. “We can be.”

Oh okay, not the worst possible answer there is.

“Do you like me?”

He looks as if you just stabbed him, or more like you stabbed his mother in front of him and he had to watch in horror. “I’m going to be honest, y/n, i’m kind of f— cking devastated you’re asking me this.”

“I can’t ask?”

“No, it’s just… Shit.” His eyes dart frantically between you and the floor, a clear sign of the turmoil within. It’s evident he’s wrestling with a multitude of thoughts, and all you yearn for is a glimpse into even just one of them. After a tense few seconds, he straightens up and meets your gaze directly, a pained expression etched across his features. “I’m upset at the fact that you’re walking around not knowing that I like you— and the fact that you even have to ask? That there’s any doubt about my feelings for you?” He pauses, taking a deep breath before he adds, “I’m sorry. Yes, I like you. I’m upset at myself that I didn’t make myself very clear about how I feel about you before. I’m sorry.”

You can feel your eyes beginning to burn and you don’t even know why you’re about to cry. You just wanted Levi to like you, so, so much.

The realization that you’re panicking both internally and visibly prompts you to stand, aiming for a quick escape. "This is good. Okay. So, I’ll see you at work tomorrow morning?”

Levi chuckles at your abruptness, “Yes, you will, but could you maybe not try to flee the scene?”

“I have to go,” you insist, though your feet betray you and show no intention of moving.

“F—cking hell. You planning an escape route?” Levi raises his eyebrows.

“I’m not escaping…” you confess, surprising even yourself.

“Then sit,” he commands gently, softening it with a, “Please?”

“I’m so nervous. Stop making me nervous.” You blurt out but decide to sit down anyway. The way he’s staring at you like you’re bonkers out of your mind right now is enough to make you burst into laughter. You snort against the back of your hand. “Stop looking at me like that!”

“Can’t make you nervous, can’t look at you. Is there anything I can do? Should I turn around and face the wall?” He mocks you, lovingly. His tone doesn’t say it but his eyes do. Everything he does to you is with love. No wonder you’ve fallen head over heels for him.

“You do realize you’re my boss, right?” you giggle, a sound so foreign to you. “I haven’t giggled like this since middle school. What’s happening to me?”

Levi beams at you, “Great, just what I needed, a subordinate with a crush. Now I have to navigate office politics, power imbalances, get HR involved…”

He pulls you onto his lap.

Your arms wrap tightly around Levi’s chest from behind him, as you rest your chin in the nook of his neck. He’s writing an email to someone, as he usually is during this time of the day.

Jokingly you ask, “When are you going to promote me, huh?”

“I did promote you,” you can hear the smile in his voice. He stops his typing to bring your hands to his mouth. He peppers them with a thousand pecks.

“Employee to girlfriend does not count”

“Shit,” he mock curses, then grins at his screen which you catch in its’ reflection.

“I have another question,” you announce, sensing an opportunity to delve into one of the many mysteries surrounding your lover.

“You always do,” he shoots back without missing a beat, fingers resuming their dance across the keyboard.

“Very funny.” You roll your eyes before pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his neck, savouring the coolness of his skin. “But seriously, honey. You never did tell me how you managed to break your arm and leg.”

written 2021, reworked 2024

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman fanfiction #aot x reader #aot imagines #attack on titan fanfiction #levi x you

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kirbybecomesastarwarrior · 4 months

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Leaders of the GSA~

(Past, present, and future) A.K.A: The Pendragons ~

When I first decided to continue (KBASW), I wasn't sure what direction the story would go or if anyone would still want to hear it. But I'm so glad I came back! I got inspired by so many other creators and people that I finally know where I'm going.

I know this piece is a little spoiler-ish, but I wanted to do something special to end the year. So it's the three GSA leaders (past, present, and future.) in their final armor sets!

And the story has evolved into something beautiful!~ I wanted to get this out there before the New Year. And Merry (belated) Christmas!

Guys, I just wanted to thank you all for such an awesome year. This goes out to all my mutuals & followers! I don't know where the story or drive would be without you guys!

Keep reading if you wanna more info/lore, if not...

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY! <3

Sir Arthur Pendragon and his final armor~

And yes, I know the blatant dragon references. (I look at so many dragons to get the armor right.) I swear it was a miracle that I was able to finish this before New Year's!

I'm pretty sure I'm finalizing the armor and mask, though I'm not sure if I should keep it open-faced (with his eyes being hidden). Or have his face hidden with his eyes peeking out.

For those of you who are aware (read this to learn more), Sir Arthur was supposed to be the "secret/surprise villain" at the end of the original telling of the story. (When surprise villains were trending "Frozen" Disney era.)

But for the rewrite, how on earth did this man transform into a good guy and one of my favorites!? The evolution of this man still blows my mind! But he has one of the most touching stories in the KBASW plot line.

Sir Arthur's story is a full-on love story (Celarthur), but it also serves as a setup for the main story. (Which is why it's taking me so long to finish Celestine's character sheet... sorry for the wait on that, but it's coming... I promise! )

Throughout the story, you're gonna see a lot of parallels between the three of them. But Sir Arthur is ultimately the one who ends the cycle and lays out the foundation for the galaxy.

Sir Arthur is meant to be the match that sparked the era of peace in the galaxy... (Dark era being Sir Uther's) Meta Knight is supposed to be the spark... and then Kirby is the flame. :3

Needless to say, THE PENDRAGON FAMILY IS STACKED!

Future titles:

Kirby: The Starlight Prince

Meta Knight: The Guardian of Heroes

Sir Arthur: The King of kings

I look forward to the next year with you guys! THANK YOU AND I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED IT!

#kirby #meta knight #kbasw #sir arthur #happy new year #metadad #kirby gsa #sir arthur kirby #kirby anime #krbay #kirby right back at ya #celarthur #lady celestine #kirby oc

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merp-blerp · 12 days

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EVEN MORE Things about Cinderella's Castle I'm excited about already as a big Cinderella fan

I did this once, guess I'm excited enough to do it again!

The songs sound wonderful! Can't wait to hear what they sound like with the cast and I can't wait to see what Lauren does with the choreo! NPMD blew me away and I can't wait to see how this show will kill me. "Cursed Crazy", "Step On Your Grave", "Ash To Ash", and "Ever After" are my favorite demos so far.

I think it's so cool that "Step On Your Grave" is such an angry song. I know it takes place while Ella's cooking her step-family dinner, but it would be really interesting if a reprise took place after Ella learns she can't go to the ball (that is if the story works the same way as usual). Normally, if Cinderella gets a song during this moment, it's very mournful, like say "In My Own Little Corner (Reprise)" from 1997 Cinderella. And that's great! But giving Ella a song like that, but with a "No Good Deed" from Wicked vibe would be so original and new as far as I'm aware! Cinderella has every right to be sad at her abusive situation, but also every right to be angry! Imagine she wants to follow them to the ball not to have a good night like usual but to kill her step-family on the way or at the ball somehow. Whether a rendition of "Step On Your Grave" is at a moment like this in the show or not, Ella deserves a song like that I think and I'm glad she's got one.

"Step On Your Grave" has a lot of allusions to Ella once being a princess in the making before the step-family or something came along, and Ella mentions her father having a sword, so I wonder if the Ashmores are fallen royalty or had royal tie-ins of some kind. Like maybe Ella was arranged to wed a prince or something.

"Ever After" has some elements of grief and that's so special I think. Cinderella often loses someone or something under her step-family, like her family or her former life, but the grief aspect isn't brought up too much very often in adaptations, the most significant time I can think of it being brought up is in 1997 Cinderella. It'd be nice to include that element in this show. I can't help but wonder if Ella's father's death was accidental in this show. "Ever After" kind of reminds me a bit of "Cool As I Think I Am" from NPMD sound-wise; some smart musical person should mash them up once "Ever After" is released. Ella also might be kinda regicidal in this song too, so... POOR GIRL'S JUST SO CONTEMPLATIVE!

I genuinely doubt "Trappings of Starlight" has much to do with the Starlight Theather from Hatchetfield, but to add to that craziness, the "Uh-oh-oh-oh," reminds me of the vocalizing from "Axe Man" from NT2. And "Should we shun her?" in "Castle On A Hill" reminds me of "Should we kill him?" in "The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals". I don't think it means anything though. It seems pretty clear that The Lands That Are and Hatchetfield aren't going to have much overlap.

"Ash To Ash" seemingly referencing Ella's mom! I get this feeling that Ella's mom was a witch or enchantress of some kind and that's why she was burned. And it sounds like the Fairy Queen and Ella are maybe plotting revenge on someone or a system, maybe? And I wonder what QF means by saying Ella is "Terrible as I". Maybe she means terrible as in great or fearsome, like, say, "Oz the great and terrible" or something. And the lyric, "I shall wrap thee in these cinders, Ell" makes me wonder if her dress will be made with starlight + the cinders on her body—what a wicked idea! I love how far the Langs took the whole cinders and ash thing. With Ella's surname being Ashmore and this being a duet with the Fairy Queen, I'm very curious about the title and if there's a double meaning; are Ella and the Fairy Queen related in some way? This retelling will be so good!

In the subtitles for "Ash To Ash" in the 4/13 livestream, I assumed "Q+C" was supposed to be "Queen (Fairy) + Cinderella", but listening to the song a second time, it sounds like C's lines overlap Ella's very slightly, which would make it hard for one person (Bryce) to sing alone. So C is likely not Ella in that song. Maybe it's Crumb? Some in the chat said it probably just meant chorus, so we'll see eventually.

All the little motifs that exist already! Like "Will it Ever After Happily?" in "Castle On A Hill" and "Ever After". Or the talk of Ella painting in both "Ever After" and "Last For Ever". "Ever After" has so many! AAAHHH!

The Lyrics in "Castle On A Hill" being "A queen and her vanity, a beast and his agony" have me Thinking™. Are the prince's parents Beauty and the Beast? Is the prince a beast? And there's also the Excalibur callback??? Since Nick said there would be no other fairytales involved in this story, it might just be more of a reference than literal, but it's still cool.

The lyrics to "Cursed Crazy" make me wonder if the citizens blame Ella for the Ashmore family's demise for some reason. The idea of Cinderella not even being able to find potential solace in the townsfolk is so sad! There's so much to think about!

Dying to know what "'Cause my love will be fierce, and your love will be missed," in "Trappings Of Starlight" will mean. It's such an intriguing line. As well as who is the character singing the song. We seemingly don't know who they are yet.

Seraphim Fairy Queen is such a cool idea, especially with all the talk of God(s) or a god in "Ash To Ash"! No pressure on the Langs, but it'd be so cool for them to be able to go through with that design concept, even if it's through minimal tactics. I can't wait to see who this Fairy Queen is. Is she the prince's mom??? A Sleeping Beauty-type character we could follow in a future show??? Ella's mom??? Ella's girlfriend??? This will be so cool!

There are more characters that we haven't been introduced to yet! We can still get Ella a girlfriend guys! Genuinely excited to see who they are!

The fact that the trolls eat rodents and other smaller creatures has me a bit worried about Sir Hop and Crumb. Maybe Ella was going to cook them for her step-family, but became friends with them instead, protecting them from getting eaten.

Not to get too Crazy, but what if the characters singing with Ella in "Last For Ever" are her parents, resurrected, or never actually dead or something. Probably not, but what if???

I have a feeling I'll be making more lists as we learn more about the show, so if I have any more thoughts I'll try.

#starkid #team starkid #cinderella's castle

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greenthena · 4 months

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Why then was this forbid? Why but to keep ye low and ignorant

(If evil, why tasty?)

In the Garden (the one in Eden, not in Tadfield or Berkeley Square), Aziraphale is tasked with protecting the Tree of Knowledge. He is, as he says, "On apple tree duty," that day when Crawly suggests to Eve that the fruit might be extra delicious, and worth a rather significant gamble.

And about that fruit...what was it that was so corrupting to humanity that they had to be cast from paradise after consuming it? Aha! You just fell victim to one of the classic blunders. You thought I was here to argue theology. Even I'm not that much of a masochist. What I will say is this, the fruit gave them knowledge--specifically, the knowledge of Good and Evil--which made them like God. In Paradise Lost, where (let's be honest) Western Christians get most of their context for the Fall of Man, Milton describes humankind's experience prior to that Original Sin as being fully Good. Good (as defined by the Almighty) is available to Adam and Eve from their conception. But Evil can only be known by disobeying God...by eating the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. And, oh, does does that Wily Old Serpent entice Eve to eat the fruit. The Serpent's temptation is a hefty stanza, but my most particular favorite part is this,

Why then was this forbid? Why but to awe, Why but to keep ye low and ignorant, His worshippers; he knows that in the day Ye Eate thereof, your Eyes that seem so cleere, Yet are but dim, shall perfetly be then Op'nd and cleerd, and ye shall be as Gods, Knowing both Good and Evil as they know.

(Milton, Book 9, lines 703-709.)

Ah, Crawly, you did such a good job. "Get up there and make some trouble." And you certainly did.

So knowing, knowledge...theologically these are heavy themes in the Eden narrative. Once Eve and Adam partake of the fruit (oh, spoiler alert...sorry...yah, they eat the apple) their eyes are opened and they realize that they are naked and everything changes. They're exiled from paradise, never to return to the sanctuary of creation's womb.

Remember what Aziraphale was doing that day? Well, what he was supposed to be doing, anyhow... Guarding the Tree, yes? Guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden, but also Steward of the Tree. Keeper of the Knowledge. Hold that thought; I'm going to need you to come back to it in a bit.

Crawly...well, Crowley and Aziraphale spend the next six millennia on earth addressing the assignments given by their respective Head Offices and eventually forming their Arrangement. And through this time, Crowley introduces Aziraphale to a vast array of different types of knowledge: the knowledge of what food tastes like in the definitely-not-a-temptation form of ox ribs; the knowledge of what wine does to an angel's corporation; the knowledge that he has more free will than he realizes and can lie directly to Heavens' Supreme Archangel; and, perhaps most impactfully, the knowledge that he has a friend hereditary enemy who will keep his secrets safe.

As Aziraphale experiences existence on earth, he accumulates volumes of knowledge that other angels will never have, and even begins to collect this knowledge for himself in the most human way imaginable.

He acquires books. Little storehouses of knowledge in which people express their ideas, ask questions, and perform humanity in a way that is really only possible because Eve took the apple and defied her Maker. If they'd stayed in the Garden, there would be no questions, no new ideas, no sushi restaurants, and no dusty little bookshops where angels keep their precious hoards of human knowledge.

Remember that little thought I asked you to hold onto oh, say two paragraphs ago? Here's where it fits. A.Z. Fell & Co. is the New Eden. It's a safe haven containing a vast store of knowledge guarded by the angel of the Eastern Gate. Even the physical design of the bookshop mimics the walls of the Garden.

Just as in the original Eden, where the angel gave the demon the shelter of his wing, the bookshop provides a true home for Crowley (especially in S2, when we see him consistently remove his sunglasses upon entering the shop as an act of vulnerability.)

And like God in Her Garden, Aziraphale is covetous of his Knowledge, refusing to sell his books just as the Almighty denied the breeding pair of humans access to the fruit.

(Also, I literally asked God, and She said that Aziraphale will get mad if you try to eat his books.)

#good omens #meta monday #go meta #crowley #aziraphale #angel of the eastern gate #anthony janthony crowley

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noisyghost · 11 days

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Ooo you fed me so well, I wasn’t even sure if I would get answers! So now I’m gonna try my hand at asking who bit Ark, what happened?! This is so juicy (rubbing my gremlin hands together).

oh rest assured, I will answer any and all OC related questions with overwhelming fervor and I will not be cool about it at all <3

The person that bit Ark was Josie! She's what the girlies like to call "a hot mess" <3

im so sorry this reply is so long. I started typing and kept failing to summarize things until it was. way too many paragraphs lmao. TLDR; Ark and Mira were attempting to rescue a woman named Josie who'd basically been manipulated into servitude by a very shitty guy. Josie also happens to be a werewolf. At some point during the attempted rescue, Josie had to watch someone she cared about a lot be killed, and she immediately wolfed out and attacked everyone around her, including Ark <3

I did not proofread this after typing it and it's 1am so i'm sorry if some things dont line up correctly, im stupid :)

Josie got bit when she was 18 on a camping trip with friends and it subsequently ruined her life. She survived bc a monster hunter killed the werewolf before it killed her, but she still got bit and ended up running away from home bc the aforementioned monster hunter told her to (it was either "run away and never come back" or "im killing you right now for real") everyone in her family thinks she died except her sister, Rose, who saw it happen and - upon never finding the body - spent the next 10 or so years looking for her.

Because Josie never really had anyone to explain to her what was going on, or support her in any way, she spent a lot of time alone, and subsequently fell into some pretty dark places. She eventually finds herself stuck in a monster fighting ring bc shes been conditioned to think that this is literally all shes good for. At the very least, she makes "good friends" with another werewolf girl stuck in the same spot as her named Cleo and theyre basically the only thing keeping each other alive for the next couple years.

At some point in all this, her sister Rose manages to track her down, but worried about her and her sisters safety, gets in contact with Mira (who is functionally the lynchpin holding the entire cities supernatural community together whether anyone knows it or not lmao) to ask for help rescuing her from the guy basically keeping her prisoner.

Aforementioned guy keeping these monster girls prisoner was named Dekker, and he was basically the scum of the earth. He dealt in monsters and magic and took advantage of a lot of peoples inability to get help (EX: 'you're a werewolf. what are you gonna do? who's gonna help you? no one. theyll just think you're crazy, and then youll end up killing innocent people because you're a monster and that's what you do). Josie and Cleo were his favorite girls and he showboated them around as both arm candy and bodyguards.

The thing with Mira and her work is that she likes to help people as best she can, but she's not like. A superhero with all the latest tech. She's a woman with a smartphone and a handful of 30 year old weirdo friends that share a group chat where someone will text "do we have plans this weekend?" and then someone will reply 3 days later with "i forgot what day it was". They're not exactly the justice league.

All they were trying to do was find Josie and rescue her for her sister. Mira has a lot of power and can do a lot of things, but this Dekker guy was notoriously slippery, and no amount of brute force was going to get them into one of these monster fights without notifying Dekker and giving him a chance to escape with the girls.

So, after tracking down one of these fights, the plan was to sneak in, find Josie and then convince her to leave with them. Originally, it was just supposed to be Mira doing all the legwork. But Ark, who was going thru a fucking crisis of identity at the time and also saw a lot of his own sister in Rose, essentially demands Mira lets him help under the guise of "I'm human, I'm way less likely to draw unwanted attention". Esp since Mira is a 6'4" goddess who attracts attention everywhere she goes lmao (Of note, they had several friends who also urged Ark to Not Volunteer To Do This, but outside factors made it unrealistic for this plan to work without getting caught with anyone other than Ark oops).

So Ark went in to find Josie and Mira was anxiously playing support, ready to rush in and save him if need be. And, to be fair, he did in fact find Josie! He told her who he was and who sent him here (Rose) and told her all she had to do was go find Mira and she would get her out. But Josie was skeptical and, frankly, afraid. She didn't believe that Mira had the power to keep her safe from Dekker, but she also didn't want to believe that her sister had been looking for her for 10 years because she was so disgusted with herself she would have preferred her sister just think she was dead!

However - Cleo, who was with Josie, did not share her fears. Cleo had had Enough, and wanted to run away with her. Josie panicked, afraid that if they ran, they were going to be hunted down and everyone involved with her was going to be killed.

So she ran away to a back room to calm down. Cleo went after her, and Ark kind of followed, but at a distance. Cleo did manage to get her settled a little, but the both of them got caught by Dekker, who harassed Josie into admitting that there was someone there trying to get them to leave, hoping he would respect the honesty. He did not.

To try and mitigate some of the flack, Cleo claimed she was the one the guy was talking to, so he would chew her out instead. Josie and Cleo both felt bad that they'd fucked this guy over, but if he was with someone as powerful as he claimed to be, he'd be alright, surely?

Apparently this was not the first time Cleo has been distant from Dekker recently. It was clear she wasn't as afraid of him as he thought she should be. So he made the executive decision to make an example out of her.

The thing about werewolves and the full moon is this: the full moon is the only time when a werewolf is forced to turn. However, they can technically turn whenever if you supply enough trauma. For Josie, that line was watching Dekker kill the only person she'd loved in the last decade.

He'd expected her to fall in line because that's what she'd been doing for the last few years. He didn't really know what Cleo had meant to her, so he hadn't expected any retaliation. But something snapped in her brain and everything kinda went red.

Josie's a particularly large werewolf - at least 13'; there's a reason she was a fighting champion - so when a beast like that gets let loose in a relatively small arena, things tend to go bad fast! She just blindly started tearing people apart (including Dekker, of course).

Ark had heard the muffled gunshots over the music and the crowd and he just went in on instinct, knowing immediately he was fucked regardless of what he did. Things escalated very quickly after that. It couldn't have been more than 30 seconds that passed inbetween Josie wolfing out and her clamping her teeth into his shoulder. And maybe it was just a moment of grief-stricken clarity, but she wavered just slightly - what the fuck was she doing? She hated him because he'd tried to help and if he'd never shown up, they would be fine. But Cleo had trusted him without a doubt, like she just intrinsically knew something about him. And no matter how much she hated him in that moment, It's not what Cleo would have wanted. Dekker was dead.

Josie gently let go of him, mostly sure it wouldn't matter because he'd die either way. She took Cleo's body and she fled. Mira saw Ark, and she saw Josie run - she could choose one or the other. She, of course, chose to help Ark, immediately struck with the guilt of knowing that he was here because she couldn't talk him out of it, and because she thought she'd be strong enough to keep him safe anyway.

The next couple weeks are a blur for everyone. Mira hates Josie and she hates Rose for coming to her in the first place. Ark hates himself, mostly, because he was tired of being the weak little human everyone had to dote on so he decided to get in over his head playing hero. Well, at least he didnt have to worry about the human part any more.

Josie buried Cleo in the woods. She marked the grave and visits often.

Anyway.

Would you believe me if I told you this very sad series of events somehow ends in Ark marrying a professional wrestler? Or Josie going on to become a lawyer with a house-husband who is also part demon? Because it somehow gets much, much weirder.

#shut up bug #not art #bug answers #absolutely deranged headworld i've built #'when does the guy with blue hair show up'#don't worry about it

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sasukimimochi · 1 year

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So i decided to repost the original sketches [plus one i thought was appropriate to put with these, since its got a butt i put it under the cut] and delete the cringe original post- since it didn't get any notes anyway- after cleaning them up/adding a block of color behind them [plus me toying with demon wwx's colors] so i hope you enjoy them!! More about the fic under the cut :D

The extra sketch that has a bumbum which is why the read more line. [plus the extra info and all].

Scroll to the bottom for links! [up to date as of 3/25/2023]

“Clash of Immortals” / COI is an upcoming project I’m super excited about with Demon WWX and Angel LWJ. I use my own version of hell/heaven for this, allowing for lots of fun details and some creatures unique to my universe, including A-Yuan who is a “Garden of Eden” [not drawn yet].

Information i can share!

Demon WWX / Wei Wuxian - Demon type: A black-blue feathered “Captive” or “Fallen” - a type of demon caused by cutting an angel’s ascension short as they are being lifted into the heavens, caused by demons trying to prevent as many new angels from entering heaven as possible. This means originally he was supposed to become an angel, but his line was cut and he was dragged past hell’s gates, causing him to descend instead of ascend once he passed through the gate.

This leaves a nasty scar on his back from the hook used to pull him up [if ascended the hook will disappear harmlessly] and this is why they are also nicknamed "Hook Demons" as they will sometimes even go around with the hook still in their back, just filed down, because they are going through a vital area and can't be fully removed.

Angel LWJ / Lan Wangji - Nearly a white wing, shares a nearly identical wing color to LXC, His is white with minimal jade undertones; he has MANY piercings to compensate his abilities in order to prevent his body from tearing apart. He does however have a unique trait- two of his flight feathers [one on each side] are completely black [I will test this with his design so don't hold me to this]. After his descent heaven is a bit perplexed- they allow this type of movement but LWJ is a very important for heaven’s force of angels, as one of the most powerful.

Fun Facts ;]

When they see each other for the first time as angel/demon they bristle, [in my universe, angels and demons feel wrong when in each other's presence, even if they're very soft and sweet. It'd probably be a good mirror to how LWJ and WWX don't necessarily get along in the actual series when they first meet too.] but then it’s a cheery reunion- LWJ might be somewhat uncomfortable, but WWX tames the sensation more easily as he is nearly unrestrained in power.

Someone comes within 50 feet of A-Yuan and Wei Wuxian sends the person’s heart to their throat just by looking at them despite this being a bad habit he probably shouldn’t use around the "Garden of Eden."*

*original species invented which will be explained better in story, I don't wanna spoil too much

and then we have "BED" HABITS

WWX is aggressive as all hell with everyone else besides his kind [in hell anyway bc he doesn't like everyone's attitude] -not in an intimate way he wouldn't do anything with anyone else- but becomes tame with LWJ, it's like a switch gets flipped. LWJ is the growling demon in bed while WWX is the purring angel, despite their anatomy quite clearly showing otherwise; and let me tell u I love purring demons and growling angels

NO ONE believes him when LWJ says wwx isnt the aggressive one, thinking the demon is tainting their precious second jade despite wwx not having a choice about his demonhood. LWJ be like: we still husbands regardless of who's the more aggressive one anyway. Yes, I’ve just decided we’re still married no extra ceremony required.

my COI music playlist can be found here. My favorite COI song is this one: "Into Darkness" by Thomas Bergersen.

all art in this post drawn in drawpile and edited on clip studio paint

Here's all the sketches for COI in order! ♥️ They update regularly on my original COI post [you are here] / the mdzs ff masterpost.

OG POST - Demon WWX & Angel LWJ [you are here].

COI - MXY YLLZ WWX Demon WIP COI - Chibi kisses COI - Cuddles COI - Slumber COI - hugs COI - Hellscape Concept art [ficlet included in this post] COI - Er-Gege COI - Marks COI - Reunion COI - Thank you! COI - I'm Home! (Previews) COI - I'm Home! ...

Reddit Posts!

See the OG Reddit post here [contains 11 drawings] Rough Hellscape Concept art [has more art here that i didn't post on Tumblr!] Slumber Hellscape Concept art [same as Tumblr] hugs/hold er-gege reunion Thanks [separated drawings] Marks Reunion Thank you! I'm Home!

See the Explicit™ COI ficlet here [i can't post this on tumblr, so i posted this on Reddit, sorry!

See the first peek at Ch 1 of COI here!

You can find all my other projects here!

Did you get this far? :0 hello! Thank you for reading it all ♥️ ♥️ ♥️

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dobercorgis · 7 months

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It’s spooky season so here are some webtoon recs

apologies in advance for the low quality images some of them are locked behind paywalls now (on the kr app the translated ones should be fine) and I was too lazy to go through all the chapters for the good panels

Ghost Teller- I’m so biased but this is one of my favorite webtoons. Summary in one line: ghosts go to therapy

Real summary: various ghosts (s1 is eastern ghosts, s2 is western ghosts) tell “human stories” (like how we talk abt ghost stories lol). the art is amazing, and all the episodes are all pretty solid. even if some stories are predictable you still feel for the characters (although personally I prefer s1 over s2)

Sweet Home- some of you might have seen it on Netflix but whether you watched it or not I highly recommend the webtoon (I have issues with the adaptation but that’s another story)

basically people suddenly start turning into monsters and the survivors of this apartment try to survive together. except the mc shows signs of becoming one of those monsters which creates unrest amongst the survivors. not going to get too into the monster part bc spoilers but the webtoon explores what people would do for survival so you get to see scummy ppl, kind ppl, all trapped together and try to survive 👍

the art style captures the story’s spooky/horror vibe so well. I didn’t include Bastard on the list (the previous webtoon the same author and artist worked on) bc it’s more of a psychological horror/thriller than creature? horror but if it sounds interesting or you liked sweet home I highly highly recommend Bastard as well.

+) There’s also a prequel called Shotgun Boy that’s more about the creatures’ origins

Surviving Romance- despite the title there’s little to no romance although it can probably be read as sapphic if you’d like. if you read makeup remover it’s by the same author. I’ve also seen some people compare this to orv but I can’t speak for that since I haven’t finished orv… haha

one line summary: mc gets isekai’d into a romance novel except it suddenly turns into a zombie apocalypse

long summary: mc is the mc of a romance novel but on the day she’s supposed to receive a confession from the male lead, there’s a zombie outbreak. she already read the novel so she knows the story and characters, but literally everybody that’s not the love interests don’t like her bc that’s how the mc of the novel was written. she finds out that the day resets when she dies but she doesn’t really care until someone she doesn’t know the face of saves her and she decides to find that person and make sure they make it out alive

even if you don’t like isekais (I personally don’t) it’s worth a try. it plays around the isekai premise well and the fourth wall moments were just *chef’s kiss* the impact of those moments especially when the webtoon was still ongoing was 🤌

the cast is primarily female characters, and despite the cast being on the slightly larger side, each of them are distinct from one another and the characters designs are very cute and colorful. overall it has an unique premise that it delivers pretty well on

Night of Shadows- kinda underrated tbh. mc has prophetic dreams, creatures from her dreams start appearing irl, and she’s the only one that knows how to deal with them.

mc is great. she’s strong, smart, and knows when not to give a fuck. the other three characters of the main cast are also pretty strongly established, and the plot and pacing are pretty good. this is the only one on the list that’s still ongoing (currently on hiatus after s1)

#did they rlly censor the middle finger? yes they did kr censorship just be like that sometimes #the webtoon fandom is so niche compared to mangas and anime fandoms so I don’t think this’ll reach a lot of ppl #but if you’re ever bored give them a try :D #I’m very aware these recs are me going dw just trust me #but please dw and trust me (not too much tho)#misu.txt #ghost teller #sweet home #surviving romance #night of shadows #webtoon

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atwas-meme-ing · 8 months

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Meme by Z0MGedELR1C on DeviantArt

Definitely one of my favorite characters, and I have to disagree with the description of him as "cowardly." At least in some aspects.

No, he's not your classic hero like Link, bursting into deadly dungeons without a second thought and eventually duking it out with the Evil Demon King at the end. But he's not like one of those cowardly characters who claims to be a hero. Instead, he calls himself a coward- and then proceeds to tell his own princess just how wrong she was.

That took guts.

Ok, so, Link is *ahem* "linked" to Zelda, right? That's the way it always works- whenever Ganon rises, in any form, Zelda is supposed to seal him away, and there will always be a Link to rise up to defeat Ganon. But also, in every instance, Link isn't just the hero that defeats Ganon. He's also Zelda's knight. In many cases, he stays by her side even after the battle with Ganon. Like, Toon Link stayed with Tetra after Wind Waker. Adventures of Link, it's the same Link from the original Zelda, still protecting her. BOTW, AOC, TOTK- he's not just a knight who protects Zelda, he is assigned as Zelda's own, personal knight.

I presume something similar happens in Lorule, that Ravio and Hilda are connected just as Link and Zelda are. Hilda is a princess desperate to save her kingdom. Ravio understands that, but he also sees that she is turning into the same kind of people who destroyed Lorule's Triforce in the first place. And Ravio clearly cares about Hilda. He kneels before her, like any obedient knight. He apologizes and calls himself a coward. He shows great humility. But he still tells her she was wrong.

Ravio's journal says that he knew Yuga was playing Hilda for a fool. But she wouldn't listen to Ravio. Ravio knew he would have to fight both Ganon and Hilda. I don't know if Ravio would have stayed to fight Ganon or run away. I think he might have tried, for Hilda's sake. Mmnn... or maybe not. In any case, he COULD NOT go up against his own princess, the person he was sworn to protect from the darkness. And that was the actual reason that he ran away.

But part of protecting her would also be to protect her from the darkness entering her own heart, would it not? And besides, he was supposed to be both Hilda's knight and the Hero of Lorule- where was he supposed to draw the line between those two? Obeying Hilda might have saved Lorule, but he would have to destroy Hyrule in the bargain. What kind of hero destroys one world just to piece his own together?

She wouldn't listen to him. And he couldn't bring himself to fight her. And, despite being greedy, lazy, and cowardly, he has morals. He couldn't watch an entire world be destroyed just to save his own.

Ravio's smart. He knew there had to be a Link in Hyrule. And even though Link is connected to Zelda, he wouldn't have a connection to Hilda like Ravio did. Link wouldn't be so torn when it came down to the moment when he would have to face Hilda and possibly destroy her.

And in the final moment, just as Link was ready to start thrashing Hilda's scheming butt, Ravio jumped in between them and faced the princess that he was sworn to protect and obey and tell her, no, this is wrong, you are wrong, you have to stop before you become like the people who destroyed this place.

I just... really, really like Ravio, okay? He's cool. He's pretty heroic in his own way. Fighting monsters is one thing. But standing up to someone you care about and telling them they're wrong, and doing so very gently and humbly and yet firmly? That's a whole 'nother level of bravery, imo.

#legend of zelda #link between worlds #ravio #meme #princess hilda #link #princess zelda #ganon #yuga #my opinion #hyrule #lorule #dark world #and yeah he is pretty cute too ;P

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sgiandubh · 6 months

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Do you have any secret tips for restaurants or cafés for a trip to Paris?

Dear Paris Anon,

I am happy and amused you ask me this question. Happy, because I have been calling Paris home for six years: that means there are places where I was madly kissing a beautiful (and cruel) boy from Bastia, places where I walked at night drunk as a boiled owl with people who are still in my life, places where I regularly went shopping or having an endless coffee with friends and places I was entrusted with, like precious jewels. Amused, because to be honest, Paris is probably the last French destination I could think of for an enjoyable week-end en amoureux (I suppose you want to go as a couple?), right now: it is overpriced as hell (the Olympics are round the corner), dirty and seedy (I was shocked, last time I visited and Manu Macron, my old acquaintance of yore, spoke about parking all the homeless outside of town during the Games 'for aesthetic reasons' - the boy never had a sense of humor, trust me on this one).

I shall give you 5 restaurants and 5 cafés (oh God, why didn't you ask me about Bangkok, instead?). Many of them are on the Left Bank (all of my addresses were there, simply because the closer to the university, the better).

Five restaurants: as it happens in Rome (where the gap is truly tragic), I will try and recommend places where locals go. You will find a menu in English everywhere, but at least try the holy trinity of bonjour, l'addition (the check) et merci. All the Parisian waiters are sourer than the Politburo and insolent as highway robbers, but do not be deterred by their manners. Order away.

Le Relais de Venise - son entrecôte (271 Bd Pereire, 75017). It is not in the center. They do not take reservations. You will be met with a long line of people patiently waiting (Seinfeld style) to get in. They have a minimal set menu (which is always a very good sign: https://relaisdevenise.com/menus/set-menu.php). The waitresses are kind and dressed like 1920's maids. It will be the damn best entrecôte-frites you've ever had (their sauce is a secret). Nothing changed there since 1959. Double check opening times and plan accordingly: you will need a taxi and plenty of time ahead. Almost a bargain for its stellar performance. The London one is a sad spin off.

Le Soufflé (36 rue du Mont Thabor, 75001). An original choice, but oh so good! They only cook soufflés (not exactly a pudding, but a pudding angels must have on a daily basis). Very reasonably priced for Paris (set menus at 40 and 55 euros - https://www.lesouffle.fr/bienvenue/home/menu/). If you want to eat à la carte, I recommend le soufflé Henri IV (cheese soufflé with chicken & mushrooms sauce) : it is heaven.

La Jacobine (59-61 Rue Saint-André des Arts, 75006). You will find tourists in this one, it is always full. Service is impeccable. Do not bother with Le Procope round the corner: it used to be one of my haunts, but this is over. The best soupe à l'oignon (onion soup, notoriously hard to cook) I ever had (yes, they still add white wine!). I would also recommend the magret de canard sauce aux cèpes (duck breast with a porcini mushrooms sauce). I could not find a decent menu, but that should give you an idea - they don't have a website (https://eater.space/la-jacobine). Very reasonably priced, too - and very, very good.

Chez Julien (1, rue du Pont Louis-Philippe, 75004 Paris). This is one of my mum's favorites. It is open only in the evenings, but it is an excellent choice if you want to call it a night, because it has service continu (all night long, wow!). It is more expensive - this is, after all, the Right Bank, so expect prices to go drastically up. This is the only option serving wonderful breakfasts, so I beg you: have breakfast in town at least once, Paris hotels tend to do it on the sad and sorry side (https://www.chezjulien.paris/en/home#menu-en). Pair anything you pick with a glass of Pouilly fumé white wine (it goes with anything, it is that magically good).

Money is no object? Entice the guy to take you at (I am torn, here, to be honest) La Tour d'Argent (19 Quai de la Tournelle, 75005). It is very expensive (like VERY), but it is worth every penny (https://tourdargent.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/LTDA-SEPTEMBRE-EN.pdf). You must (it's an order!) order the canard au sang (you will find it on the menu under the entry Duckling Frédéric Delair and it is outrageously priced). But you will never have a chance to see the table show anywhere else (it is served in two times: first the fillet and then the legs and it uses a sort of Medieval contraption, to get the blood out for the sauce) - just a specialty from Normandy, you will not find in Rouen anymore. It is divine. They have been there since 1583. What are you waiting for? (for a less break the bank option, try Le Grand Véfour, near the Louvre - google it, it will take forever to explain why).

Four cafés and a salon de thé (tea parlor) : all are haunts of mine. In every single one of them something very personal happened to me. Consider yourself lucky. On a more practical side, all of them double as excellent lunch options, for a fraction of what you would spend in a restaurant. :)

Chez Carette (4 Pl. du Trocadéro, 75016, but also Place des Vosges, with a nod to C). You will have an exceptional choice of anything you could think of and the same Roaring Twenties atmosphere as in the Relais de Venise restaurant. The chocolat chaud (hot chocolate) is almost perfection (do NOT go to Angelina, on the rue de Rivoli, that is another favorite which went south and not in a good way). The best macarons you will find North of Saint Jean de Luz's Maison Adam (where the story of macarons began in earnest). This is Someone's favorite, but then he always was a Right Bank purist. Service is old school, which means supremely kind, if only a bit on the slow side: you are in France, soak it in!

Les Deux Magots (6 Pl. Saint-Germain des Prés, 75006). On the Left Bank in the publishing houses district. This is my second favorite (there is a first favorite) and you will likely find me on the heated terrace with a cigarette and a newspaper, if I were there. Service is appalling, but you should not mind, I have warned you. Reasonably priced for what and where it is. Breakfasts are mediocre, but still enjoyable and lunch/dinner menus are typical brasserie fare - you are not there for the food, you are there to cosplay Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir and act intellectual and sophisticated and have endless talks about the world's destiny (https://lesdeuxmagots.fr/en/breakfast-menu/). If nature calls, head downstairs with an air of intrinsic superiority and don't forget to pay the grumpy dame pipi (toilet lady), who will give you what you need and look at you like you are the scum of the Earth. Always makes me laugh.

Le Café de l'Epoque (2 Rue du Bouloi, 75001). On the Right Bank, at the end of one of the most beautiful passages couverts (glass-roofed passageways) of Paris. Again, you are there for the supremely dreamy atmosphere, I can only fail to describe. Look on the map for all of these passageways and then get lost in the maze of stamp shops, bookstores, taxidermists and God only knows what else you could think of (or at least add to this passageway the Galerie Vivienne). Usual brasserie/bistro fare, reasonable prices (https://cafedelepoque.fr/en/services). The lemon meringue pies are to die for.

Café Le Rostand (6 Pl. Edmond Rostand, 75006). Steps away from the Luxembourg Gardens, which I crossed every single day to go to the uni. Steps away also from the secret and sublime Medici fountain in above park (oh, the things I did there!). Surprisingly good French fare, the beef tartare is excellent (a rare thing!) and well priced (https://lerostand.fr/carte/ - use Google translate, they don't care for tourists). Service is cheeky. Round the corner, one of the most charming shops in Paris, Parapluies Simon (56 Boulevard Saint-Michel, 75006) - only umbrellas and dandy walking sticks (you can hide a whisky mini flask in one of them, I am told by Someone on the phone, but I think he is trolling us - we love that shop).

The Tea Caddy (14 Rue Saint-Julien le Pauvre, 75005). It's been there since 1928, when a certain Miss Klinklin opened it and introduced the Devon scones to France. It is my favorite favorite (https://the-tea-caddy.com/en/tea-room/) and it is perfect on a rainy day. Steps away from the Medieval church of Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre, one of the most authentic and moving experiences of its kind in a very secular town. The Shakespeare & Co. bookstore is just round the corner. A rare gem of a place.

I could go on and on and on. Three more short tips and you will thank me for it, as alternatives to deceiving mainstream options:

The Musée de l'Orangerie instead of The Louvre. Blasphemy? Intense perfumes come in small bottles. It is breathtaking (https://www.musee-orangerie.fr/en).

Château de Rambouillet instead of Versailles (you will not be able to enjoy it AT ALL). Where else could you find Marie Antoinette's private 'milk bar' (La Laiterie de la Reine/ The Queen's Dairy), a supremely elegant affair, with milk-spouting fountains, built to encourage hygienic milk consumption as an alternative to breast-feeding (she was unable to). Trust me and plan a full day for it (https://www.chateau-rambouillet.fr/en/discover).

La Sainte-Chapelle instead of Notre Dame. I always preferred it to anything else, except perhaps Vézelay (far, far away from Paris). It will shock you, but in such a perfect way (https://www.sainte-chapelle.fr/en). Enough said: I will let you discover. Across the Seine, couple this visit with the Musée de Cluny and tell The Lady and the Unicorn I miss them (https://www.musee-moyenage.fr/en/).

I am not sorry for the length of this post. At all. I hope you will enjoy this modest, but very personal selection and perhaps you will come back and tell me if it was worth something. Bon voyage!

Notre Dame on a snowy evening, Paris 1953

#Anon

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real-jane · 2 years

Text

everything, everything

[steve rogers x female reader]

summary: steve and his partner are undercover on assignment, hiding out as husband and wife. the line between reality and fiction is too thin, and steve can't take much more.

warnings: steve is v dumb, pining/longing/etc, smut, canon level violence, smut, and also some smut is in it.

a/n: thank you to @sanguineterrain for the original prompt: "How about a Steve x reader who have to go undercover as a married couple and oh NO, they're pining for each other and don't know it! Whatever shall they do?! 😳😏"

enjoy!

He’s too stunned to move when the doorbell rings, so she slips between Steve and the counter with pink-stung lips and hastens to answer it. All the air in the room rushes out with her.

She’s not supposed to kiss me when nobody is around to see her do it.

Three weeks. It’s only been three agonizing weeks. When did the fiction bleed into reality? When did his hands start aching to reach for her?

‘You get along so well already,’ Bucky had said, ‘it will be nice to be undercover with someone who doesn’t get on your nerves.’ Except… Steve has never had less clarity in his entire life, especially not now, after she kissed the daylights out of him.

The smoke detector is his only saving grace. The pancakes he got up early to make for breakfast are charred beyond recognition, and he throws open the window to let out the smoke… and whatever hot air is keeping his brain from actually processing.

“Everything okay, baby?” she calls from the front room. Steve clenches his jaw.

“Wouldn’t you know it–I burned breakfast,” he replies, in as chipper a tone as he can manage.

“That’s why my husband doesn’t go anywhere near the kitchen. I’m surprised you let him try, Betsy.” Ugh. Sharon. Her husband is on a permanent business trip to live with his other family, a fact that SHIELD had uncovered in the process of vetting the neighborhood. Wayne Carter is also a very good cook. Sharon Carter puts on a haughty face for a woman who hasn’t seen her husband in nine months. Betsy… the alias his partner wears like the Southern Belle she most certainly isn't… she hates Sharon, but she’s a good actress.

“Oh, Steve’s a wonderful cook! But I was distracting him.”

His ‘wife’s’ little giggle is enough to make Steve snap the spatula in half. He stares at the bisected plastic in shock.

“Bex, what do you say I take you out for breakfast?” Steve rubs his jaw and gives up on the pan, which is entirely unsalvageable. “Mimosas and crepes, yeah?”

“Steven Rogers, you’re gonna spoil me rotten.”

“Impossible.”

Steve can’t stop the panic rising in his chest. It isn’t supposed to be like this. She’s a fantastic agent, and that’s all. God–he wants to kiss her until she can’t pretend anymore. He needs to have the upper hand, to retain just one ounce of professionalism as Captain fucking America. People know who he is. He’s on assignment. They aren’t married for real.

And yet.

Realization washes over him and he leans against the counter in despair.

Every evening, when she bids him ‘goodnight’, he hopes that she skips past the first bedroom and finds her way to his. Cooking for her? His favorite part of every day. He’s googled so many recipes that the app suggests fancy breakfast food. He wears that one blue shirt as often as he can because she smiled the first time he did.

Coming ‘home’ is his only source of comfort, because she is always standing on the porch… waiting. Sometimes a neighbor is talking with her; she’s so kind that it has been easy ingratiating themselves into the neighborhood. Nine times out of ten, she’s got a glass of lemonade in hand, slick with condensation, waiting for him. It’s the weekends that are most torturous, when he has no reason to be out of her presence. Like this particular Saturday morning.

It’s very easy to forget why they’re there. They’re so close to uncovering the ring–she fills him in on the dirt she’s dug up while playing cards, or gardening, or just gossiping with the ladies each day. The women on this street tell her things that he’s struggled to weasel out of hardened criminals. Steve is fairly certain he’s going to burst into flames before they succeed in this assignment. He’s ashamed of himself. She doesn’t deserve some sicko fixating on her, especially not her partner. He’s a public figure, for Christ’s sake! He’s better than this.

Her hand presses against the small of his back. Steve starts and wheels on her. She bites back a smile at the sight of him, and raises a hand to his cheek.

“You look like you’ve been sweeping the chimney,” she laughs.

He steps away, out of her grasp. “I’ll just get cleaned up, if you wanna go.”

“Oh. You really wanna go out for breakfast?” The surprise in her voice stabs him square in the chest.

“Why not?” he shrugs. “I destroyed the good pan anyway.”

“Are you okay?”

No. Absolutely not, under no circumstances. “What did Sharon want?” He still hasn’t looked her in the eye.

“She went through Zemo’s garbage,” she says, as if she’s impressed by Sharon’s gall. “She found like twenty packs of cold medicine.”

His head snaps up. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. She’s got the bags in her garage, she texted me a picture, too. Look.” She holds up her cell phone and sure enough, a black trash bag filled with boxes of off-brand medicine fills the screen. “This is what we’ve been waiting for, Steve.”

“Oh my god…” he can’t help but laugh in astonishment. “This is reason enough for a warrant.”

“I already sent Fury the photo. Can you believe it?”

He wants so badly to pull her into his arms and hold on for dear life. Because if they’ve truly uncovered the lynch pin of the whole organization, then their days playing house are numbered. Worse than loving her is the thought of no longer getting to pretend, and hang all his hopes on precious public displays of affection. You two look so in love, one of the neighbors had said during their welcome block party. Steve had his arm wrapped around her shoulders then, because being the facsimile of a married couple was still too new to know how to comfortably interact in a way that seemed real. She lets herself be kissed by him with a sweet smile on her face, now. Her fingers always entwine with his, especially when they’re over at someone else’s house.

For one brief second, Steve considers how easy it would be to steal the bags from Sharon’s garage and destroy the evidence… but what would his partner think of him if she found out what he had done? Maybe that was the best way to push away these embarrassing feelings–push her away. Make them strangers, again.

“Steve–hey!” She snaps in front of his face. “What’s wrong with you?”

He shakes his head, but the heat which floods his cheeks is mortifying. “I slept weird. Not fully awake yet.”

She frowns. “Why don’t you go lay down? I’ll order breakfast in, and we can wait for Fury’s directive.”

“I don’t need to lay down,” he says quickly. “I’m fine.”

“You keep zoning out–”

“I said I’m fine, so I’m fine.”

“...why are you being like this?” She crosses her arms, leaning against the counter. “You’re pissy.”

“Can you just leave it alone?” he sighs.

“We’re in deep cover and you want me to ignore it? I’m gonna nag you until you communicate, Rogers–”

“You’re not entitled to every little thought in my head, alright?” Steve throws his hands up in the air. “This is a sham marriage, remember? Stop pushing me and accept that I don’t want to talk, I’m fine.”

She opens her mouth to press the matter, but thinks better of it. She looks away and nods, but she breathes in raggedly. “Well fuck me, I guess. Fuck my feelings. Crepes?”

Steve’s heart plummets through the tile floor as she turns away to leave the kitchen. He lunges before he can stop himself and grasps her wrist, staying her exit. Words clog his throat. She waits with one eyebrow raised, but when he can’t make the apology come, she rips her hand from his. Steve is left with the horrible feeling that he has ruined everything good between them… the real rapport they’ve built sharing an assignment, and the fake one which allows her to touch him freely where anyone can see.

And kiss him where they can’t.

He waits for her on the front porch in blue, having scrubbed the pancake ash from his face. She emerges from the house in a sundress. The light pink one which always robs him of sanity. For a moment her face is stony, but then her expression lightens to exuberance and she waves–beyond Steve, to the passing neighbor on the sidewalk.

“Hi Joe!”

“Hiya, Rogerses! Where ya off to on this fine morning?” The old man braces himself on their little gate.

Five soft fingers curl around Steve’s elbow and he remembers that he’s supposed to be helplessly in love with this woman. Well… no acting required, he thinks with a wince. He covers her hand with his.

“Somebody destroyed breakfast,” Steve says, pointing his thumb at himself, “so he’s gonna treat his wife to some French cuisine.”

“Good on you, boy. Betsy deserves the best.”

“That she does,” Steve says, a hair too earnestly.

“Talking about me like I’m not even here!” She giggles. “Joe, do you still need Steve’s help moving that dresser?”

Steve tightens his hand over hers. They’ve talked time and again about how Joe is capable of stealing one’s entire day, and how frustrating it is when he’s trying to keep tabs on Joe’s neighbor to have a two-hour conversation about hydrangeas–

“If he’s offering!” Joe smiles expectantly at Steve, who bobs his head.

“I could do that for ya. How’s this afternoon?”

“You know where to find me!” Joe salutes and totters back down the street towards his small bungalow.

Once they are seated inside Steve’s car, shielded by darkly tinted windows, he dares to study her. She ignores him, typing away on her phone. “What was that?” he asks lowly.

“You’ve been trying to find a reason to case his house,” she says, not looking up. “I got you an in.”

He clears his throat. “Right. Good idea.”

“You’re not the only influential Rogers in the neighborhood.”

Steve sighs. “‘M sorry–”

“It’s forgotten.” Her phone rings in her hand and she answers immediately. “Hello? No, unsubstantiated for now but Steve is going into Joe O’Leary’s later today while I pop over to Sharon’s. No, he’s just the only house we haven’t found a reason to go inside. It was Steve’s idea, actually.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. It absolutely was not, and if he’s honest with himself, he can’t quite figure out which part of this assignment he’s actually contributed to. She has all of the good ideas, she thinks of things he never would’ve dreamt of.

“--Yeah. Zemo is hunting this weekend, apparently. We won’t. Nick–that was one time!” she huffs. “I have the scar. We won’t go to his house until you’ve got the warrant. Why does every man around me insist on being so damn stubborn? No–god, I forget you have us triangulated at all times. We’re headed out for breakfast. I burned the pancakes, so…” She glances at Steve and shakes her head. “No, I copy. We’ll stay put. I’ll tell him.”

She hangs up and her head falls back against the seat. “He wants us to stay in place, and wait until he gives the okay to check out Joe and Sharon’s.”

“We already told both of them we’re going out… won’t that look suspicious?”

“I dunno… drive to the gas station. I’ll buy you some shitty coffee. At least our car will have left the driveway.”

“I’m buyin’,” Steve says, starting the car. “Last time I checked, you’re not the one who charred the pancakes.”

“It was still my fault.”

“You can buy me a moon pie, for my trouble.”

“I’ll buy you a whole box.” He can’t help the way his mouth turns up at one side, and when he looks at her, she’s smiling sadly. “I don’t like it when we’re at odds.”

Steve shakes his head. “No.”

“Partners?” She holds out her hand, but before he takes it…

“Why’d you do it?” His voice is soft, pleading. She shrugs.

“I wanted to. Don’t you ever do things, just because you want to?”

“Um. No, I don’t have that luxury.”

“I forgot who I’m talking to.” Her chin dips bashfully. “Just forget it happened, okay? We kiss in front of other people all the time, it’s a habit.”

“...which you wanted to do.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I haven’t overanalyzed it. Like you are doing right now.” She wiggles her fingers and Steve laces his in. “Partners. Do you wanna tell me what was going on with you?”

“Well… I suppose I was thinking about all this being done. It’s, uh. Hard to tell sometimes what’s part of the cover, and–”

“What’s real,” she finishes. “Maybe the truth is somewhere in the middle. We don’t have to answer that today.”

“I like holding your hand,” he admits. “I–shit, sweetheart, I-I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Yeah. But I don’t have enough caffeine in me for that conversation,” he says, squeezing her hand.

“You can do it back, if you want. You keep looking at my lips. It’s okay if you want to, Steve.”

“I don’t want to ruin it,” he murmurs.

“Only way to do that is to shut me out.”

He studies her neatly manicured nails. “I want to. So bad.”

“But?”

“I don’t know. Can’t think straight as it is. What’s it gonna do to me–”

“Hush.” She holds their clasped hands to her lips. “It’s okay.”

“No–it isn’t.” He squeezes. “It’s unprofessional.”

“If you think I haven’t spent the last three weeks relishing the fact that I get to spend every evening watching trash tv with you, staring at your ass, and listening to you laugh… fuck professional, Steve. I didn’t mean for it to happen, okay? You caught me off guard with your sweetness. I knew I was in trouble the first time you kissed me.”

“But this is gonna end…”

“It doesn’t have to. I–” She stops to cup his cheek and brush her thumb over his jaw in reassurance. “I don’t wanna go a single day without kissing you. I don’t care if it started because we’re pretending.”

“It’s never been pretend for me,” he breathes.

She moves first, because she knows that he can’t do it without real permission, where there’s no question why it’s happening. He moans against her mouth; it’s always felt like his lips were meant for hers, but with nobody watching… It's a gift. She is precious to him. He cradles her face to say as much, without putting voice to it. Kissing her this way strips him of all ceremony. He’s just a city boy with a crush on a beautiful girl, who kisses like a dream. It’s freeing. If anyone saw them making out in the driveway, what would it give away? Nothing which doesn’t show on his face every time he looks at her. Because Steve can’t pretend like she isn’t the center of his world. Not when he has permission to kiss her in private.

His tenuous control snaps.

She keens as his lips traverse her jaw to nip at the tender skin below her ear. “Been holding out on me, Rogers.” He sucks a mark, blooming a ruddy bruise on her throat. Then, he lavs that spot, pulling more heavenly sounds from her lips. “Fuck.”

“I think about that, too,” he whispers against her skin. “But I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“We wouldn’t be the first partners to do it.”

“Remember when we caught Bucky and Nat after Bulgaria?” Steve eases the strap of her dress off the curve of her shoulder.

“God,” she sighs, tugging on his hair so he’ll find her mouth again. She catches his bottom lip. “You wouldn’t look at me.”

He blinks at her through heavy eyelids. “I was thinking about you.”

“You wanna fuck me in a bunk on the quinjet?” she scoffs. Her fingers card through his hair.

“Anywhere. Have forever. Buck knows. ‘S why he suggested you for this.”

She smiles against his mouth. “Remind me to send him a thank you card.”

“Can I touch you?”

“In the driveway?” she gasps, even as she guides his hand towards the hem of her dress.

“Windows are too dark to see in.”

“You’re kinker than I thought–fuck.”

He traces the pads of his fingers over her soft skin. Steve bites his lip, watching her eyes flutter as his hand gets closer to touching her where he wants to, most. “Think I’m vanilla, agent?”

“That is your favorite ice cream flavor.”

Steve stops for a second and squeezes her thigh in affection. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. She chases her lips after his, and pauses just a breath from his face. They smile at each other, drunk on uncorked arousal.

“Vanilla,” he whispers, tracing the hem of her panties, “is a complex flavor. Goes with everything. Chocolate. Cherries…” Steve dips his fingers beneath the silky fabric. She cants her hips to give him better access. He finds the little bud at her apex, worrying the bundle of nerves enough to make her moan.

“Exhibitionism,” she pants.

“In small quantities,” he chuckles. “Gimme your lips, sweets.”

She does so like a woman starved, but her head falls back as he sinks one finger into her heat. “Steven.”

“‘M here.”

“So good.” She rolls her hips to meet his hand. He thumbs her clit with every stroke. “Had a dream–mmph. You fingered me at a barbeque.”

“I’d do it. Under the table?”

“Mm. No. In the pool.”

“Our pool, sweetheart?” Steve works a second finger with the first easily. She’s drenched, she’s gorgeous.

She nods. “Yeah. But I couldn’t make a face because everybody was around.”

“What, then?” Steve feels her squeezing him tight. She’s close. He’s never wanted anything more in his life than to make her come. He doesn’t care how much work it takes to clean the seat afterwards. He’ll do it with a smile, as long as she comes.

“You made me orgasm in front of the whole neighborhood. Then you got in the hot tub and you made me sit on your dick.”

“Were you keeping me hard?” He tugs the cups of her dress down with his free hand and bears her breasts. “Christ. You’re so beautiful.”

“Nobody knew, and the bubbles covered us,” she sighs. “Right there, right–oh fuck. What about you?”

Steve groans as her hand finds his straining dick over the top of his jeans. “I’m gonna bust my zipper the second you come.”

“Wanna feel you. Please.”

He nods his consent, but not before flickering his tongue against her nipple. She stays his hand by turning her nails into the skin at his wrist, and forces him to lean his seat back so she can unbutton his pants, but she doesn’t get very far–

The back window of the vehicle shatters. Steve throws himself over her, peering above her headrest. She groans.

“I was so close,” she wheezes.

“Stay down, sweetheart.” Steve kisses her cheek and then throws the car into reverse, turning the wheel like a madman to dodge their attacker… Sharon. Standing on her front porch with a rifle. She raises the gun to take another shot, now that she has her sights on him.

“Roll down your window, baby!”

Steve doesn’t hesitate. His partner yanks the top of her dress up, lays half-way across his lap, and fires her own weapon (pulled from god-knows-where), catching their attacker in the shoulder. Sharon drops her rifle, but the gun discharges, destroying one of Steve’s tires with an explosive POP! The car drops heavily towards the front wheel well. Sharon staggers to retrieve her gun. After one more precise shot, she falls. Steve takes the gun from his partner when it is offered. She retrieves his pistol from the glove compartment, and they each get out of the car warily.

“Do you wanna trade?” Steve calls.

“You think I can’t shoot with your gun?” Her voice is sweet and teasing.

“I said no such thing. Is she dead?” They flank the unconscious woman… sure enough, she’s down for good, with one bullet right between the eyes. Steve exchanges a look of shock with his partner.

“Yes. Must’ve been desperate to risk taking us out like this. I’d say we found the rat,” she says.

“I guess so.”

“She has the shittiest timing.” She grins at him, which makes Steve’s ears turn red. She retrieves her phone from the car and makes a call.

Steve keeps his weapon at the ready. Several of the neighbors peer out their front windows in concern, but none are stupid enough to come out and investigate the ruckus. He attempts to stand between the body and the street, at least to obscure the pooling blood below Sharon’s head.

It doesn't take ten minutes for a dozen black SUV’s to come squealing down the sleepy street. By the time they take over the block, Steve and his partner are leaning against his car, glancing at each other with small smiles. They’ve collected themselves somewhat; he made sure there was no visible sign that she’d been just moments from an orgasm when they were shot at (other than the hickey, which he hopes nobody notices), and they attempt to look concerned that their attacker wasn’t someone they expected. But it’s especially hard for Steve to be stoic, because he knows how it feels to touch her. He settles for looking smug. He is, but who’s to say why?

Bucky accompanies the agents who emerge from the trucks, as does Fury. “Cap. Agent.”

“Director,” she acknowledges. “Sergeant.” Bucky wrinkles his nose at her.

“Walk me through what happened.” She steps forward with Fury and walks him towards the body, while Bucky hangs back with Steve. Barnes leans over and whispers.

“Your fly’s undone.”

Steve sighs. “Shit. Why are you staring at my crotch, huh?” He fixes the aforementioned zipper as discreetly as possible.

“Old habits die hard.” Bucky folds his arms and leans against the car.

“What would Natasha say to that?”

“...you think she doesn’t stare at your crotch, punk?”

“You two are nightmares.” Steve can’t help but chuckle, despite himself. “Carter annoyed the hell outta me, but I didn’t think she was involved.”

“You trying to change the subject?”

“Not succeeding, apparently.”

Just then, his partner looks up at him, gesturing towards him and then down the street, which is swarming with agents in black suits.

“Cool it with the puppy dog eyes,” Bucky murmurs.

Steve glares at him. “Shut up. That’s just how my face looks.”

“Not when you look at me,” Bucky says, elbowing him in the side. “Did you tell her?”

Steve’s eyes dart away, and he can’t help but smile. He twists his mouth to keep from breaking out into a full smile.

“Thank God,” Bucky says.

“Rogers!” Fury waves him over. Steve strides towards the director with his hands in his pockets. “I think your partner is a little shell shocked. Why don’t you take her to the house? I’ll catch up with you in a bit. I think it’s going to take a few hours for us to do a preliminary search of Carter’s.”

Steve glances at his partner, who has her hands clasped at her waist, twisting her fingers. She indeed looks quite shocked, eyes wide and unblinking as she stares up at him. “Yes sir.”

“I’m glad you two didn’t do anything hasty and stayed put. This could’ve gone a whole lot worse.”

Steve nods. He manages the world’s most convincing performance of concern, wrapping his arm around his partner’s shoulders. She leans into his side, letting him guide her across the street to the house with ‘Rogers’ painted on the mailbox. He doesn’t dare look at Bucky, nor does he want to risk saying anything until they’re safely concealed from the rest of the world. But the moment they’re inside, he presses her back against the front door. She smiles softly.

“Did that get your blood going?” she asks. “Getting shot at with your fingers inside me.”

He huffs. “Your mouth, I swear.”

“What’re you gonna do about it?”

“Do you want this?” He asks, working his knee between hers until she has to stand on her tip-toes. She nods breathlessly. “Out loud, or I stop.”

“I’ve heard you come,” she laughs. “In the shower. When you think you’re being quiet. I talk myself out of joining you every time, but I wanna see your face when you have an orgasm. I think you’ll be the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Steve shivers. “Pretty, huh?” He lowers his mouth slowly to hers, but stops as she gasps. His hands find the globes of her ass, inching under the panties he’s going to destroy. He watches her eyes dilate with arousal. She smirks.

“You’re a pretty man, Rogers. ‘S why I married you.”

Steve gapes at her for just a minute. He shakes his head in disbelief, shrugging off the euphoria which rises in him at the thought of this woman truly being everything. Her fingers creep to his jaw.

“What?”

He sighs. “That’s all I want. To have this. All the time.”

“A wife, baby?”

“And babies, sweetheart.”

“You told Joe you wanted three… you were being serious.”

“I was.” His eyes flick back and forth to study her irises. They’re glassy.

“You’d want that with… me?”

“How long have you known me?” He asks, kissing her forehead.

Her hands wrap behind his head, stroking his nape. “That’s a big step. We’re not even together–”

“I’ve been telling anyone in a ten mile radius that you’re my wife for three straight weeks, and nothing has ever felt more right.” Steve levels his eyes with hers. “I want as much as you’re willing to give me.”

Her eyes crinkle as she smiles. “God. You take a girl’s breath away. I… I don’t know if I want kids, Steve–”

“But you want me.”

“Yes,” she sighs.

“Then I don’t care. You can think about it.”

“What if the answer is ‘no’? Could you be content with only me?”

“Only–sweetheart. You are everything.” Steve kisses her eyelids as they shut in relief. “We could always have dogs.”

She laughs in surprise, and it’s his favorite sound in the whole world. “Why don’t we start from the beginning, and see where we end up?”

“Where’s that?” He noses her cheek.

“Give each other orgasms for the first time. I mean, if I’m gonna think about having babies, don’t you think I should know how your dick feels?”

“You make a very good point,” he says with mock seriousness, tapping his chin. “In the spirit of investigation.”

“To make a truly informed decision.”

“Right… if we do this, we’re gonna have to tell Fury.”

She looks at him guiltily. “He… knows. I sorta forgot that the car is bugged.”

Steve freezes with wide eyes. “Shit.”

“...Yeah.”

“Well…”

“We have no reason to hide it, now.” She finds the hem of the shirt she likes so much and tickles her nails across his abdomen. “Besides, I gotta admit that I kinda found it, I dunno… hot? That people heard us.”

Steve locks the front door over her shoulder and walks backwards, tugging her towards the stairs. He spins her so her heels catch on the step, forcing her to sit down abruptly. Steve follows, latching his lips over hers hungrily. He probably should feel embarrassed, but how can he when this beautiful woman wants him? No man in his right mind would be ashamed of her.

He rends the gusset of her panties. For such a talkative person, she sure has nothing to say when his fingers find her clit again. Just incoherent moans. Steve has three fingers inside her by the time she comes, walls fluttering around his thrusting hand. Her head falls back in ecstasy as she soaks his fingers. He wastes no time working his pants down enough to free his dick; her hands urge his shirt off so she can run the tips of her nails down his chest, flicking against his nipples and making him buck. She’s bringing kinks out in him he didn’t even know he had.

She wraps one hand around him, making his head fall forward against her collar. He nips at her tendon in retaliation. She guides him until his dick is tucked between her folds, and rolls her hips to take him in. Steve obliges. He sinks into her fully, and groans.

“Fucking hell,” she breathes.

“You’re tight, sweets.” He teases the seam of her lips with his tongue, inviting her to lose herself completely. She’s still sensitive from her first orgasm, shivering when he brushes her clit, so Steve stays still. Buried deep in the woman of his dreams.

“Was it like this, in your dream?” he asks, stroking her cheek softly. She smiles blissfully.

“No. This is better than anything my brain made up. You gotta move.”

“What if I didn’t? And I made you sit with my dick inside you all day long.” Steve shimmies her dress up her torso until she arches her back enough to let him pull it over her head. But he fists the fabric at her wrists, capturing her hands so she can’t touch him. She whines.

“Jesus. Who knew you were so controlling?” Her inner muscles contract and he huffs.

“If I thought I could control you for one second, you’d know it by now,” he says, rolling his hips. “But you’re the one who’s got me wrapped around your finger.”

“Yeah?” she gasps. “You’ve got me tied up.”

“You don’t need your hands to have me right where you want me, sweetheart, and you know it.”

She kisses him hard. “Fuck me. So I have bruises from these stairs.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He snaps his hips forward to do just that, and he’s in heaven. He’s got little experience compared to some of the agents he hears bragging about their trysts in the gym, but by god, he’s never fucked a woman like this. Especially not someone he loves. His knees burn from the carpet, and his boots attempt to slide off his bracing step–hell, his pants aren’t even to his knees, but he fucks her like a desperate man, because that’s what he is. He wants her to come again, more than anything. Hard. Who cares if he doesn’t, as long as she finds pleasure?

Her hands slip free of their restraints easily, and she grasps his back for dear life. He’ll feel the marks from her nails in the shower, he’s sure of it. Steve doesn’t realize his eyes are closed until she gasps. His eyes snap open–she’s arching up, chasing her release. He reaches between their bodies to find her clit and rolls it as he thrusts. It’s enough to send her over the edge. She cries out, and it’s all he can do not to come at the sight of her. But he thrusts through her orgasm until she’s whining with sensitivity. She grips his ass.

“Baby–please. It hurts.”

Steve braces himself on his elbows and freezes, kissing her in apology. “Mmm. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You okay?” She nods, kissing him back slowly.

“You need to come.”

“I’m okay.”

“No!” She protests. “I want you to. I have to see it. Please–pull out, I’ll help you.”

The moment he rises up, she’s reaching for him… he can’t think with the way her fingers wrap around him, tugging him ever closer towards his own orgasm. He’s kneeling beside her on the stairs, watching her in rapt awe. She worships him, but she’s too gentle. He tightens her fingers with his to show her that she doesn’t need to be so careful with him. She’s a fast learner. She pumps him with as much care as he showed her, her eyes fixed to his face to catch every little expression of pleasure. When he’s close, he falls down onto his elbow, right at her side. She smiles, and he can’t help but smile back because god, he loves her. She’s everything. He’s never felt so good. He’s soaring. She coaxes him through his orgasm, painting her belly with his come. He turns his teeth into her shoulder to keep from bellowing, which makes her wince and laugh all at once. Then, he lets himself fall fully onto the stairs beside her, so they’re both staring up at the ceiling in awe.

He laughs.

“Yeah… you’re pretty, alright,” she breathes.

“I should’ve gotten you to bed.” He looks over at her. A faint sheen of sweat makes her glow like a goddess, and she shakes her head.

“I think this was as far as we were gonna make it.” She raises her hand to stroke his cheek but she’s shaking a little. Steve takes her hand and kisses it.

“What’s the verdict?” he whispers.

She giggles. “More research required.”

“Do you think the house is bugged?”

“...Not anymore.”

He can’t help but laugh at the innocent smile on her face. “Shit, sweets. You made me hungry. I could really go for those moon pies right about now.”

She beckons him to meet her in a kiss. “After that, baby? I’ll give you the whole moon.”

thanks for reading!

my masterlist - my marvel masterlist

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