#Any guesses on what flavour it might be? It's not sweetness I can tell you that! Haha

[sysig]

I know this flavour, it’s on the tip of my tongue... (Patreon)

[lcvclywon]

the waves and evening air

back to masterlist

synopsis .ᐟ When you and your best friend Jungwon get stranded on the beach, it might be a bigger blessing than you realise

warnings: mentions of food, denied feelings, fluff fluff fluff, not anything I can think of rn!

genre ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ; best friends to lovers

parings: best friend!Jungwon x best friend!female reader

wc ˖° around 1.2k ^^

thoughts frm yuya 💭 this was definitelyyyy based off that one scene from reply 1988 where taek and deoksun get stranded at the beach bc that's my comfort drama ^^ also thank you to my pookie @wonfilms for helping me conjure this up at 2 am, wrote this for u elle fr ><

“This is all your fault!” you cried out while slightly pushing Jungwon to the side (to which his stance sadly did not falter). To give some context, Jungwon had stupidly convinced you to stay just a little bit longer at the beach in hopes to find a few more seashells he could keep as souveniers. Which then resulted in you two missing the bus back home, meaning you would have to wait for next bus. Unfortunately said bus would only come at 8pm that night, meaning you had around 3 hours to kill. 

“Hey! It’s not that bad. At least we got cute seashells,” Jungwon defended as you two walked away from the bus stop defeatedly “, and I’d say three hours goes by quick if you have fun!” You turned to his face which had a grin plastered across to accompany his hopelessly optimistic attitude. 

“Yeah and how do you suppose we do that, we already did like 99% of the activities they have to do at this place.” you grumbled whilst kicking at small pebbles in your way as you walked 

“Uh well…” Jungwon said before scanning around the boardwalk to see if there were any shops that you’d haven’t been to yet. Suddenly catching something from the corner of his eye his head perked up before exclaiming “Hey shaved ice! We haven’t had that yet, and besides you need a refreshment.”

“I guess…” you grumbled under your breath before Jungwon started forcefully dragging your body to the shaved ice shop. Eyes glistening with hope and steps fueled with determination. 

“Hello! Uhm could we have two orders of shaved ice: one mango and one strawberry! Oh um both small sizes please, thank you.” you envied how no matter the situation, Jungwon’s voice always managed to come out calm and cheery. You also always caught onto how Jungwon knew your favourite flavours by heart, despite never telling him outwardly how much you loved mangos.

Shaved ice in hand you both made your way down near the sand to sit and watch the waves. Jungwon had mentioned earlier he hoped to catch the sunset with you before leaving, guess he got his wish you thought to yourself. You both sat in a comfortable silence while enjoying your desserts, letting the gentle sounds of the waves fill your ears. 

“Hey is yours any good?” Jungwon asked breaking the silence 

“Oh, yeah it’s good!” you said before scooping out a spoon of shaved ice for yourself. However before you could get to even enjoying the sweet treat Jungwon’s head dipped down and stole the bite you had crafted for himself, smirking before responding with a sly “Hm, it is good.” 

You nudged him slightly before whining out “Hey, that bite was for me!” 

In response Jungwon scooped out a spoonful of his shaved ice; moving the spoon closer to your mouth with a hand under to catch anything that might fall, uttering a small and simple “ahh” 

Despite the blush forming across your cheeks you moved your head forward to accept his offer, the sweet strawberry flavour melting on your mouth leaving you with a satisfied smile. You have to admit, shaved ice wasn’t a horrible idea. Leaning back into your chair you sighed out, eyes wandering to the oceans waves moving back and forth with the tide, a gentle smile forming across you face. One that Jungwon seemed to notice. 

“What’s on your mind hm?” he asked before spooning a mouthful of shaved ice into his mouth and tilting his head to face you. How did he always catch on to the small things? 

“Hm? Oh nothing, just you know-” you answered while poking at your somewhat melted dessert “this is, nice…”

“Told you so.” Jungwon joked with a smug grin, elbowing you playfully. 

“Nevermind, I take it all back, worst idea ever.” you deadpanned before turning away from him slightly. 

“Kidding kidding!” he said whilst wrapping his hand around you wrist to pull you closer. God he had to stop making your heart flutter.

Suddenly a huge gust of wind blew in your direction, the bitter cold causing shivers to run down your body. Immediately your hands reached to your sides to rub them and hopefully generate some warmth, which Jungwon once again seemed to notice. 

Without a word he unzipped his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. Looking up in startled, you cocked your head to the side with a confused look glazing your eyes. He simply flashed a small knowing smile in response, was his smile always this pretty? 

As the sun set darkness quickly engulfed the beach which led you two to heading into a small restaurant to enjoy a warm bowl of hot pot. You sat peacefully enjoying your warm bowl of soup whilst jungwon poured a bit more into your bowl. Glancing up you muttered out a small thank you in between bites. 

Shortly after the old woman who had been serving your table and running the restaurant came up to you two asking “Would you and your girlfriend like more soup?” 

You choked slightly on your fishcake before rushing to deny that you two were dating, however Jungwon seemed to be quicker. 

“No we’re just finishing up! Thank you though, must be hard running this place yourself” he replied politely 

“Oh it’s no trouble! What a gentleman you are, I’ll go and get your check then. You kids enjoy the meal” she cooed before heading off to the back. 

You stared at Jungwon with puzzled eyes and mouth slightly agape before uttering “Girlfriend?” 

“No point in correcting her right? Eat, eat…” he responded nonchalantly before spooning the remaining bits of fishcake into your bowl. What did he mean by that? You tried to brush it off and continued eating, but you couldn’t lie that it remained in the back of your mind even while riding the bus back home. 

“I mean there kinda was a point.” you said out of the blue, obviously throwing Jungwon off guard a bit. 

“Hm, what do you mean?” his face resembling confused kitten as he tilted his head to the side

“I mean, we aren’t dating. So there kinda was a point in correcting her” you reached for the hem of your skirt twiddling with it slightly.

“I mean we might as well be right?” Jungwon answered before lacing your hand with his. A bright blush formed across your face when you registered what he just said. What? 

“So does that mean…” you asked expectantly, trailing off as you were too embarrassed to finish your question.

“It means exactly what you think it means.” Jungwon replied before pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand “Why’d you think I made you stay and collect seashells? Obviously I don’t like seashells that much YN, I just wanted to keep hanging out with you.” 

“Well it worked, today was great” you giggled out before yawning 

“Are you sleepy?” Jungwon questioned attentively 

“Hm just a bit…” you commented, feeling your eyelids begin to become heavier. 

Before you could do anything Jungwon moved your head to rest on his shoulder before muttering a small “Sleep on me, I don’t mind” 

You happily accepted his request, before drifting off into a peaceful slumber. A smile painted across your face, a smile you trusted you could always have with Jungwon. 

Maybe missing the bus was worth it

[crabsnpersimmons]

Crabs this is Noa you need to help me I'm in love with your restaurant AU I need more I love food and you combined it with the dca I can't I ca

Uhh what's in the menu? :D

HEHE ME TOO NOA!!

legit every meal i have is inspiration for this AU 😂

as for the menu, welllll most of it is based on Hong Kong style cafe foods (because that's what inspired me at first), but the specials change regularly and go into many different cuisines.

the boys also specialize in different things too:

Sun specializes in healthy, nutritious meals. he’s also the most interested in learning all about food, from farms to cooking methods. if you ask him to surprise you, he’ll discretely scan you and determine what your body needs and will cook something accordingly.

You are surprised as a bowl of soup appears in front of you, held by a gold hand. You follow that hand to it’s owner—meeting Sun’s blank eyes staring down at you.

“I… didn’t order a soup,” you stutter.

“You appear to be low in iron today,” Sun responds in his monotone voice before turning away, then adding, “There is more if you need it. It's on the house.”

Without a further word, Sun returns to the kitchen.

The smell of the soup wafts to your nose and you decide to dig in. It’s a fairly clear broth yet surprisingly flavourful—the kind of soup that takes more than a day to properly steep and simmer to extract all the flavours from it’s ingredients. Despite that, the soup was clear of any dregs at the bottom—just the way you like it.

You feel your face warm—from the soup or from the attention, you’re not entirely sure.

You might take his offer for seconds.

Moon specializes in everything indulgent! juicy fried chicken? the cutest pastries? he loves them all and he’s always experimenting with new recipes. sure he recognizes the importance of a healthy meal, but sometimes you just need a boost, yknow? food is more than fuel, it can be something to be enjoyed.

When you stepped into the restaurant that morning, Moon could already tell you were off to a rough start. He watched from the kitchen window as you ate your breakfast, staring dryly at your phone.

And then he had an idea. Ooooohoohoohoo, clever Moon!

“Gooooood morning, starlight,” Moon walks over to your seat at the bar table. “How’s your breakfast? Would you like some dessert with it?”

You groggily look up from your phone, and nod, barely registering what he said. Then before you know it, Moon is gone and back again with a warm plate of french toast.

Moon wasn’t kidding when he said dessert—the toast is thick enough to be a cake! When you cut off a manageable bite, you realize it’s actually two slices of toast, sandwiching a gooey filling.

You take a bite and you’re surprised by how delicate and rich it is. The toast melts in your mouth and leaves behind the aroma of butter and eggs and the delightfully chilled sweetness of condensed milk coats your tongue.

Your expression must betray your reaction, because you see Moon smiling back at you so sweetly.

Eclipse is the main front of house, waiting tables and charming customers. and he’s also the barista, preparing a variety of drinks (and sometimes putting on a bit of a show while doing so). he can cook as well, but he leaves it mostly to Sun and Moon.

You have no idea how you got here. You decided to stop by the restaurant, only you forgot that today was their day off. However, you’ve learned that the chefs live in the apartment above the restaurant, which explains why Eclipse found you and let you in.

Now you were seated at the empty bar table, while the charming barista prepared you a drink.

“Here we are,” Eclipse gently places a glass in front of you.

Based on the colour, the ice, and the straw, you take a guess, “Iced coffee?”

“Half correct,” Eclipse chuckles and pours himself a glass as well. “It’s one of my old boss’s favourites. It’s called ‘yuenyeung’, a mixture of milk tea and coffee.”

“Oh, so ‘yuenyeung’,” you grimace at your butchered pronunciation, “means ‘tea-coffee’, I guess?”

Eclipse smiles. For the short while you’ve known him, you have learned you do not trust that smile. “No, ‘yuenyeung’ refers to a pair of mandarin ducks that look very different, male and female. They’re a symbol of conjugal love—a pair of two different elements coming together as one.”

You freeze as Eclipse chuckles and clinks your glass with his. “It’s more fragrant when it’s served warm, but it’s too hot for that today. I’ll save that treat for a day you need the warmth.”

He’s right. It is too hot for this today. You take your glass and sip on the straw, Even chilled, the aroma of black tea, coffee, and smooth milk is strong on your tongue.

Even after downing your entire glass, you still feel too hot.

[yaekiss]

okay. the will wood song as vampire childe. a reverse of that oh so beloved fic based off a lil ask of mine.

the way he loves your pure, unadulterated humanity as you breathe down his neck when you’re on top of him. you’d have him squeeze his scarred thighs together if they weren’t pinned open from your pounding into his pretty and greedy hole.

he begs for your attention either way. his bratty words as he tries to set you off, wanting to drain you of your blood to have you even a part of his body. he begs and begs, taking in every careful breath of yours between his own moans of pure bliss and his sucking of your blood. the way he looks on with dazed eyes as your own roll back when you tell him to detach… but no　♡︎　he’s not doing that.

vampire childe who is just your silly little parasite! despite his expensive tastes, he likes it when you drag him to some seedy club’s bathroom and take him in the stall where anyone can hear him. his tab’s forgotten as he makes up for pissing you off from letting others ogle at him, such lecherous monsters he’s much better than, at least, that’s what he says as he’s holding onto the dirty mirror, seeing the possessiveness in your gaze as you surely leave bruises on his hips and ass.

IHDSWJHD I can't believe I wrote so much for Bloodied Fangs... something about exploring the different dynamics of vamps I guess idk what came over me. I think your asks just do something to the writing part of my brain. Hmm. Rambling under the cut again, I think I'm losing it

On a side note, if anyone reading this would like a full fic based on a prompt/request you might have, do check out my ongoing event!!

ANYWAYS! sorry I have worldbuilding(?) brainworms I have to get out first b4 everything else as usual sigh. I think a vamp!Childe is bloodthirsty in ever sense of the word. If we're going by the more popular vampire tropes, he might enjoy the boost to his abilities (i.e. heightened senses, supernatural strength) although I am curious to see how it would affect the use of his delusion and his Foul Legacy state.

Would additional vampiric features manifest themselves in the Foul Legacy state? Sharpened fangs, torn and roughed up bat-like wings?? Would mixing the powers from the delusion and vampirism produce any backlash? If the delusion draws from the user's life force, what would happen to a vampire who's immortal? One can only speculate.

Perhaps it's the genuine concern combined with natural curiosity in your expression when you pose these questions to him that continues to draw him closer and closer to you. How sweet of you to worry over him, he swears he can almost feel his now non-functioning heart skip a beat when your warm hand cups his face. He drinks in your warmth, constantly clinging to your side like some leech.

Which is why he loves it when he managed to rile you up, the contrast you show him is addicting. He knows what he's doing when he licks at the salt rim of his glass, shooting you a coy look as he consciously ignores the way the other patrons of the club are eyeing him. He knows he's won when you're dragging him off to the bathroom, a possessive glint in your eyes. Meanwhile, Childe is beaming when some customers whistle at the spectacle.

You sure that those outside can definitely hear his moans over the trashy upbeat music the club is blasting on the speakers but the man before you doesn't seem to care at all. His fangs sinking into your skin, the familiar taste of your blood settling on his tongue. The flavour is intoxicating, heady, rich. Infinitely better than whatever that drink he ordered just now was, how could it even compare?

He feels you yanking at his hair, trying to drag him off you and saying something along the lines of, "C'mon detach already, haven't you had enough?" The answer could not be more clear to him, how could such a small taste of you ever be enough?

If he drains you of everything, doesn't that mean your entirety will be a part of him for all eternity?

Bonus!! can't really figure out how to link it to everything I wrote above but I think he'd really like it if he could drink your blood while you're fucking him. Something about lapping away at your neck/wherever he chose to bite, acutely aware of your heartrate speeding up when he clenches down on you, your blood laced with the sharp sweet taste of bliss and arousal. He could simply drown in it all.

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

If you'd like to request a full fic of your own, do consider checking out my event post!

[idiotwithanipad]

A Chat With Amy

Alison: As far as Humphrey's told me, the hotel's newest ghost, Amy, gets quite chatty once you can get a topic she likes out of her. I did do a Ten Questions sheet with her last year but since then- haven't really heard anything of her. Other than liking Monster and depressing music, she seems a bit introverted. Might give it another crack today.

Alison: (Update: Turns out Amy is a night owl and doesn't get up till gone mid day. Can't get into the East Wing bedroom yet as haven't bribed the desk guy, I'll get him eventually though. Will have to ask the ghosts to wake her up.

(Attempt one: Sent Kitty to go get Amy up but she said 'She didn't move an inch'...)

(Attempt two: Sent Fanny but she soon came back looking like she was ready to meet her maker)

(Attempt three: Robin got cocky and said he'd go get her. He was up there a while but came back looking like a told off puppy.

Robin: That word cut deeper than spear...

Alison: Yeah... Don't really want to write what Robin said she said but it rhymes with 'Duck off can't'

Alison: Luckily, Humphrey's body came along so we sent him up.

Alison: Took another hour but finally got Amy into Higham Suite-

Amy: (Groaned like a zombie)

Alison: Humphrey was in one piece too, so she must like him. Or at least prefers him?

Amy: Remind me why the f—k I got tackled by Robin... On my f——g bed?

Alison: Remember the Ten Questions from last year?

Amy: Nah

Alison: Well, I'm going about getting more info off you. Don't really have a lot of time to ACTUALLY get to know you nowadays so this is the only way.

Amy: You wearing a wire?...

Alison: ... I'm sorry?...

Amy: You ARE sorry...

Alison: ... 'Kay...Anyway, don't suppose you remember your biggest Monster record? Most drunk in a day or quickest time to drink a full can?

Amy: (she practically sat bolt upright) Oh yeah. Most in a day was 9. Quickest record was a full can in one minute thirty seconds. It's was in the middle of August so it was boiling hot, couldn't have drank that shit faster

Alison: Wow

Amy: Yeah. There was another time where I tired to beat that record, it was on a school day during my maths GCSE's and it gave me the hiccups. All the way through the exam this c—t in my class was sat opposite me in the exam hall and he kept giving me the evils. So on the way out of the hall, I jabbed him in the arse with my compass.

Alison: Oh my- why?

Amy: He shouldn't have been staring at me...

Alison: ... Okay... Moving on then?

Amy: F'you want

Alison: Uhh, favourite flavour of Monster? Probably a trick question...

Amy: You'd be right... Mango Loco. A flavour came out a few years back called Bad Apple. I usually love artificial flavour but that one wasn't too sweet, kinda appreciated that from it.

Alison: Cherry is usually the go-to for me. Remember Cherry Lucazade?

Amy: Yeah, I tried that. I prefer Monster but Cherry Lucazade weren't bad. It's weird cause Cherry is usually one of those flavours that people get wrong. It's either too bland and doesn't taste like Cherry at all, or it tastes like straight up cough syrup. A wholeass bottle of Calpol

Alison: Yeah, I know what you mean

Amy: It's a visceral flavour... Like when you've got the flu and you cough up that green phlegmy shi-

Alison: AANYway- You join in any groups with the others? They do music club and food club? You said you liked Italian good before, anything else?

Amy: Ramen Noodles are pretty convenient I guess. Wish I could have some lasagna though. My all time favourite, my granddad taught me to make it when I was too small to even see over the stove, I had to stand on a chair.

Alison: Aww

Amy: Sometimes they cook it here and it drives me in-f——g sane. When I first died, like three weeks into death I was up in my room and one night I just smelled it. Like, I could tell it was lasagna even from the East Wing. I went down to the kitchen and Robin was already there sniffing it too. After that he started teaching me how to use my sense of smell more. Apparently not all ghosts can do it, so I guess I'm lucky really. He told me closing my eyes would help, that's what he did. Something about closing your eyes and taking sniffs, apparently when you smell something and you can't pinpoint what it is at first, you should just shut your eyes and your subconscious fills in the blanks...or some shit...

Alison: oh, never knew that. Interesting... What about music club? Silver mentioned liking Evanescence, you old enough to remember Evanescence?

Amy: Course I am. I liked Whisper to be honest, cool guitar riff. I don't really fixate on bands specifically though, I'm kinda like a musical salad, if I like the song, I'll listen to it. Doesn't have to be a particular genre, if it's a vibe, I'll vibe to it. But then I found ICP. My one true love, whoop whoop.

Alison: ICP? (Regret asking, got so intrigued that I googled them and now I'm scarred for life)

Amy: 'Rainbows and Stuff' is just me on a daily basis

Alison: (Don't know if that should be a concern or not)

Alison: Have anything to do once Silver goes to sleep? You can't tell me you spend the rest of the month all on your own up there?...

Amy: Nah. I talk to the others. Kitty's pretty fun to talk to sometimes, Silver's my best mate though, we have the biggest laughs. But when she sleeps, it's normally Robin and Humphrey. Mostly Humphrey, he's chill like that

Alison: (Couldn't help but notice the change in Amy's demeanour after bringing up Humphrey)

Amy: Truth is, he didn't try to force me to join in at first. Apparently he'd been in my room the whole week that- me and my mum came here. I saw him after I woke up from dying. I just remember waking up and seeing nothing but pitch black and hearing muffled voices. When I sat up I kinda like- passed through the dark and into the light... But then I saw that I was on a stretcher in a f——g body bag. I crawled back away from these two weirdo paramedics and heard a voice under the bed, low and behold, that's when I met Humphrey...

Alison: ...

Amy: But then Robin came in and spotted me and got all excited and went to find the others before I could hide (rolled her eyes). The idiots were kinda itching to be 'the new girl's friend' and it was so annoying, so I just hid in my wardrobe for a week

Alison: A WEEK?

Amy:…Problem?

Alison: You mean to tell me you just sat in that old wardrobe for a whole week?

Amy: Well, yeah, I weren’t gonna just come out and have those weirdos screaming in my face, I get enough of that every morning with Robin still.

Alison: Okay, so- what made you change your mind?

Amy: They didn’t come in for a few days, so I thought the ‘coast was clear’. I got out to stretch my legs and left the East Wing. But I heard Pat and Cap arguing downstairs about what to do with me, so I held on the stairs and earwigged for a bit. Then Humphrey came along again, can’t exactly remember how the conversation went but we ended up telling each other how we died. It felt good to vent after all that bull—it. Kinda felt like he was the only sane one left in this house (she smiled)

Alison: He got you used to being a ghost?

Amy: In some ways. Robin helped me get used to walking through walls and stuff, but Humphrey was kinda like my rock the whole time. He always told me to take it easy. I almost didn’t wanna put the poor guy down cause I was scared I’d lose him again…

Alison: Again?

Amy: Yeah…this doesn’t leave this f——g table, but I lost his head once and-

Robin: (Seemingly appeared out of nowhere) She did big cry and got tears and sticky nose stuff all over my furs-!

Amy: (She chased him out of the kitchen and came back 5 minutes later)

Amy: Next!

Alison: Nah, think that’ll be it…

[imnotavamp1r3]

♡ TMI tag!!! ♡

So the other day I was watching some of Eugenia Cooney's old videos since I used to watch them a lot as a kid. I found some of her tag videos and I guess I thought it'd be fun to do one of those 2015 Youtube tags but on Tumblr. I'm not sure if this is going to be that interesting but yeah. You can watch Eugenia's video here btw.

🎀 What are you wearing?

I'm wearing a Misfits Marilyn Monroe t-shirt, black cargo pants, a skeleton hand bracelet, and Hello Kitty headphones because I'm listening to music right now.

🎀 Have you ever been in love?

I've had crushes but I doubt I've ever been in love

🎀 Have you ever had a terrible break up?

No

🎀 How tall are you?

168 cm or 5'6

🎀 How much do you weigh?

Last time I got weighed I think it said something like 105 lbs

🎀 Do you have any tattoos?

No

🎀 Do you have any piercings?

No and I don't even have my ears pierced

🎀 What's your OTP?

Buffy x Angel

🎀 What's your favourite show?

Gravity Falls

🎀 What are your favourite bands?

I love so many but The Pretty Reckless, Paramore, Tally Hall, Pierce The Veil, and Sleeping With Sirens are probably my top five.

🎀 What's something you miss?

Nigahiga

🎀 What's your favourite song?

I don't think I really have a favourite song but my top song on Spotify every year is always Make Me Wanna Die by The Pretty Reckless so I guess that's my favourite.

🎀 How old are you?

16

🎀 What's your zodiac sign?

I'm a Gemini but I don't really know what that means other than that I'm apparently evil.

🎀 What do you look for in a partner?

I don't know

🎀 What's your favourite quote?

'I'm just a girl'

🎀 Who's your favourite actor?

Anya Taylor-Joy, she's so gorgeous and smart and she always chooses great projects (except for that one time when she was in the Play Mobil movie). She's probably my favourite scream queen too.

🎀 What's your favourite colour?

Probably really obvious but pink

🎀 Loud or soft music?

Loud

🎀 Where do you go when you're sad?

Notes app

🎀 How long does it take you to shower?

When I'm not crying, less than ten minutes

🎀 How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?

Usually about 10-20 minutes

🎀 Have you ever been in a physical fight?

I have a brother so yeah

🎀 What's a turn on for you?

Guys with long hair, mainly because of Kellin Quinn

🎀 What's a turn off for you?

Guys calling girls 'females'

🎀 Why did you join Tumblr?

I was bored

🎀 What are you afraid of?

Looking dumb and doing badly in school

🎀 What was the last thing that made you cry?

Probably my mom arguing with me the last time we had lunch together.

🎀 When was the last time you said you loved someone?

I think it was to one of my friends but I'm not sure

🎀 What is the meaning behind your username?

It came from the Falling In Reverse song I'm Not a Vampire. There's not really a reason why I chose that song specifically, I just really like vampires. Originally my username was just going to be imnotavampire with no numbers, but that was taken so I added a 13 into vampire.

🎀 What was the last book you read?

Lapvona by Ottessa Moshfegh. I might write a whole post about it because I really enjoyed it.

🎀 What book are you currently reading?

Cleopatra and Frankenstein by Coco Mellors

🎀 What is the relationship between you and the last person you texted?

She's my mom

🎀 What is your favourite food?

Probably apples because they're the thing I eat the most

🎀 What is a place you want to visit?

I would really love to visit the Palace of Versailles. It looks so beautiful and I'm so jealous of all of the French queens who got to live there.

🎀 Where is the last place you were?

Panera Bread parking lot

🎀 Do you have a crush?

Yes, on thirty year old emo men

🎀 When was the last time you kissed someone?

I've never kissed anyone

🎀 When was the last time you were insulted?

The aforementioned lunch with my mom

🎀 What is your favourite flavour of sweets?

Strawberry. I'm so addicted to strawberry flavoured things that someone could tell me their vomit is strawberry flavoured and I'd probably try it.

🎀 What instruments do you play?

I play guitar

🎀 What is your favourite piece of jewellery?

Probably the skeleton bracelet I mentioned before because I wear it the most and my mom hates it.

🎀 What was the last sport you played?

If taking ballet as an elective in middle school counts then ballet

🎀 What is the last song you sang?

I sing a lot so I'm not really sure. Probably Bubblegum Bitch by Marina because I sing it all the time.

🎀 What is your favourite pick up line?

It's a toss up between 'Dang, girl, are you a construction worker? Because you are BUILDING,' and 'I want your bull in my Bronx.'

🎀 Have you ever used it?

No but I will

🎀 When was the last time you hung out with someone?

I have no idea. Really all I do is just rot in my room.

🎀 Who should answer these questions next?

Anyone else who also wants to overshare on the Internet

That's it, byeeeee!! ˚｡⋆୨୧˚♡

[quandaryqueen]

So I just read that post about what the Riddlers smell like (and I'm glad we can all agree that Arkham!Eddie needs to be thrown into the shower!🐀) Any headcanons on what scents they might like on their partner? 🤔

The Riddler's favoured scents on their S/O headcanons

Edward Nygma X Reader

I love the way you think, Mun 👀

It is now once again time to run around the house to sniff perfumes 🤧

All I can say is the fact that they have on thing in common-- is the fact that your perfume shouldn't be too overwhelming.

💚 Gotham

No, omg 'coz I just remembered that this dude canonically sniffs people by the back of their necks like a creep. But anyways, I bet he tries to guess what fragrance do you wear, by watching you and sniffing your neck when you walk away— which is yes, bordering on creepy stalker guy status and I can't blame you if you think that's fucken creepy. Because it is, regardless of his intentions. Once he's figured what you use, depending on his current budget, he'd buy and gift it to you.

But that didn't answer your question 😅

He happens to be fond of cooking, baking to be precise. Perhaps some vanilla, oh! Shea butter. He likes Shea butter. Cleopatra apparently loved shea butter. There is a mention of caravans of clay jars filled with shea butter for her use. It’s also said that this luxurious ingredient was beloved by the Queen of Sheba and Nefertiti. But yeah, Shea butter.

💚 Young Justice

Of course, nothing too overwhelming but let's be honest, he wouldn't care about himself if you happen to spritz yourself 37 times from head to toe. Nausea? No, it's just him getting drunk of your presence. But if you choose something subtle, something that won't kill him, he finds something citrus or fruity scents in general soothing. But he doesn't mind about which scent you use either way.

Like when you'd hug him after a long day, he'll bury himself in your hold and breathe you in, before clinging closer. Maybe stop the pricking tears from the corner of his eyes when that particular day was extra rough on him.

💚 Arkhamverse

As Riddler simps, we really need to bond together. How about we abduct the Riddleman and lock him in the shower? You know, for team building? Great! I'll get the duct tape, you guys hold him down. I neglected to mention that this guy probably uses 3in1 bath products. So let's make sure to give him proper shampoo, conditioner and soap. Maybe throw in some skin care.

But jokes aside, let me tell you, this man is addicted to your scent. When you're gone (let's not kid ourselves here, when he's gone), he looks for your warmth, your touch, your fragrance. He'd grow extra fucking hissy when he misses you and in his frustration of getting constantly side tracked due to his longing, tantrums will be thrown in the workshop until you go there to undo whatever damage he's done to his environment, and himself.

And the instant you got near, he is latching himself on you. Good luck prying him off.

He likes musky scents, maybe throw in some floral scent to it. Something calming, perhaps lavender or Arabian jasmines (Sampaguita, to my fellow countrymen). He never knew he liked floral scented things, it was an accidental find.

💚 Batman the animated series

BERRIES! The scent of berries and cinnamon. Not necessarily mixed together, but perhaps separately. Oh, and caramel and coffee.

Perhaps it was something he's fond of when he was still downing the berry flavoured energy drinks and caffeine to substitute his need to sleep during tumultuous hours in college, but he really does love the scent.

He is also inhaling the scent of his significant others when hugging them and it really makes him think about how lucky he is that he finally has someone who loves him. In a way that he doesn't question their every actions, whether they have hidden intentions behind kind gestures, that something sinister his behind your sweet smile... But no, you genuinely just love him, with no personal agenda at all.

💚 Batman Unburied

Yeah, every iterations of Riddlers have not given a kind touch in their life. He attained some sort of trauma from a scent, an expensive musk worn by one of the guards in Arkham that regularly would regularly degrade him so whenever he smells this certain scent, he'd have an anxiety attack.

But anyways, favourite fragrance on his significant other... Well, the scent of chai doesn't fail to soothe him and I think there are some perfume with hints of ginger flower and almond cream, I think he'd be really into that.

Developing his acute sense of smell towards a person wearing a particular scent he hates, he also can smell when you're near if you're wearing the chai perfume and he will be instantly running in your arms. Like the other Riddler's, he will fucking cry if you just embrace him in your arms, he will cling tightly and just grip your flesh, you'd feel his nails dig in your skin. Damn... Let's all gather the Riddlers and just hug them.

[sunghun]

enhypen finding out their s/o likes mint chocolate

requested; yes 🙌

warnings; talks of food, some cursing

note; as a mint choco lover myself, this was right up my alley lol

general taglist; @blaqpinksthetic @heelariously

희승 | heeseung;

so

fucking

dramatic

acts like you’ve committed the worst possible crime

“you mean you actually EAT that stuff? and you LIKE it?? what’s wrong with you why do you enjoy eating toothpaste 😑”

and you’re just like . unprovoked??

literally you were just sitting on the couch together when you remembered that you had some mint choco from your grocery trip the other day

and now your boyfriend is attacking you??

might not say anything after the first time but would probably look at you like 😐 every time you eat it around him

might act like you’ve tried to poison him if you ever offer some to him

ESPECIALLY if u don’t tell him it’s mint choco

���hey babe you want some ice cream?”

“yeah sure!”

*takes a bite and realizes what flavour it is*

“ah fuck. i can’t believe you’ve done this”

refuses to eat any of your ice cream after that

which is kind of a plus for u bc now he’ll stop stealing it all

love wins <33

제이 | jay;

might think you’re a little weird but other than that

he doesn’t really care

low-key judges you every time he sees you eating it tho

“you like mint chocolate??”

“yeah it’s really good!”

“i mean….if you say so 🙄🙄”

but he would also make stuff with it for you?

like he’d say some shit like

“you and your sugary toothpaste…”

but then one day when you come home he’d be there with a mint choco pie that he made just for u <3

might try certain things if you really wanted him to

but it’s just not his thing so he’d probably politely but judgingly refuse if you offer him some

“you want a bite of my mint chocolate bar baby?”

“no thanks, i’ll let you enjoy your inferior sweets all by yourself <3”

제이크 | jake;

definitely the nicest one about it

like he doesn’t like it

but he respects the fact that you do

even if he thinks it’s gross

would probably make sure that anytime he gives you smth sweet

it’s mint choco flavored

like to the point where you would have to remind him that you like other things too

“jake, sweetie, darling, love of my life, i appreciate the fact you got me yet another pint of mint choco ice cream, but it’s okay if you get me other flavours too”

“ohhhh. i just thought mint chocolate lovers were like . monogamous or smth.”

he tries <3

would probably take a bite if you offered

and might even try to make himself like it for you

but it’s really just not his thing :/

it’s okay tho bc at least he doesn’t judge u for it <33

성훈 | sunghoon;

“iT fEeLs LiKe bRUsHinG yOuR tEeTH aFtER yOu AtE cHoCoLAtE”

literally won’t shut up about how he can’t believe you eat and actually enjoy the taste of it

would definitely make extremely exaggerated gagging sounds every time he sees you with some

“still eating ur chocolate flavored toothpaste i see”

and you just look at him like :[

good luck trying to get him to eat it

bc he Won’t

might be extra dramatic and not even look at you if you’re eating it

“hOW could you do this to me y/n???”

“i can’t even LOOK at you anymore”

and ur just like . sitting on the couch mid-chew wondering when your boyfriend turned into such a drama queen??

like go off i guess :/

선우 | sunoo;

is SO happy and excited

bc he finally has someone who gets him!!!

like one day he was just chilling on the couch eating some ice cream

and when you came in to sit with him u asked for a bite

and he was just like “ah shit here we go again”

bc he expected you to be a hater like most people

but he still gave you a bit bc he’s a good boyfriend <33

and when you realized what flavour it was you were just like

“oh cool i love mint choco”

and sunoo just. loses his shit a little bit

like fr he loses it in a very low-key way

looks at you like ❤️_❤️ bc he just fell in love with you jk but not really

is very happy bc now you guys have something you can bond over

but then quickly realizes that this probably means you’re gonna steal his sweets •_•

정원 | jungwon;

would be judgey like jay

but would be the opposite of low-key about it

“you like mint chocolate?”

“yeah!”

“🤨 okay…. 😐😒”

idk if it’s bc he’s an aquarius or what

but i just Know that wonnie would be very judgmental of ur taste in food

like he might roll his eyes or make an exaggerated grossed out face every time he sees you eating mint choco

“i can’t believe i’m dating someone who likes to eat toothpaste this is so embarrassing”

would maaaybe try it for u if you really begged him to

but he would defs pretend to gag and shit

like he doesn’t even hate it that much

he just likes teasing you and watching you suffer

r.i.p. my dude ur dating a little monster✌️

니키 | niki;

would not care

like the first time he sees you eating it he might stare at u for a minute or smth

but then he goes about the rest of his day like nothing

“hey babe what’re you eating?”

“hm? oh it’s just some mint chocolate”

“😑🤨😐🤷‍♂️ okay”

would probably take some if you offered

but he wouldn’t really be going out of his way to ask you for some

definitely steals some of sunoo’s secret stash for you tho

“look! i got you mint choco!!”

“omg thanks baby!!”

*two minutes later a furios sunoo appears in the doorway* “where the Fuck did my sweets go”

and ur just like .

“really riki? you couldn’t even buy it for me you had to steal?”

“oh come onnnnn y/n, he always has the high quality stuff why wouldn’t i steal it??”

“bc it’s wrong???”

“guess that makes us both thieves then bc you stole my heart”

“……”

lol ANYWAYS

very neutral abt it and not at all judgmental God Bless <3

[countlessrealities]

Given the chance, Morty would have protested. He wasn't "just saying that", he meant each and every syllable of the words he had spoken. He wasn't always honest, to tell the truth these days he tended to lie more than anything else, but he wouldn't have lied to Meg. Especially not about how he felt and about what he thought of her.

In hindsight, it was good that her lips silenced him before he could voice any of those thoughts, because they might have given off the wrong idea out of context. Besides, being distracted by the sweetness of that strawberry-flavoured lipgloss was much easier than explaining or even just mentioning the true extent of his feelings.

It was better not to speak words he wasn't sure he meant and it was too soon in any case. He had to focus on his plans for that night.

So, he just offered what he hoped was a sincere smile and fed her the snack. Keeping his tongue in check was a bit of an effort, but Meg seemed to be having a great time, so it was worth it.

The sudden shift in the tone of the conversation caught him off guard, but he managed not to show it, in favour of remaining quiet and listening to the girl. The thought of her asshole exes had his blood boil, as every other time he had heard about them, but he stomped the feeling down for once. This was his and Meg's night and he wouldn't allow anything or anyone to ruin it.

"T-There's nothing wrong with wanting t-to be loved and valued," he eventually spoke up, taking her hand in his. "I-I get it, I can relate to that. I-It's...I've tried that for a long time too, b-but it never worked out. N-Not with my family, n-not at school. T-Then Rick came along and...I-I guess I felt like I had finally found my place."

A very messed up place, but he wouldn't swap it for anything else. No matter how ugly it could get.

"I-I never thought I could have...other stuff. F-Friends, let alone a relationship. B-But then I met FM an-and we...you know, fell for each other. An-And I got to know you, an-and we were great friends an-and now....we're more."

And hopefully they'd have a label by the end of that date.

"I-I...Some of the shit I went through really sucked. B-But if I was offered to have it easy, i-in exchange of not having the life I have now...I-I wouldn't take that deal. S-Sure, it would be nice to be appreciated an-and not traumatised, but...i-if it meant not having FM and you...an-and Rick too...it wouldn't be worth it. I-I'd rather have a shitty life an-and get to be with you."

Morty might've thought his words were cringeworthy but meg found his compliments well extremely flattering. To be compared to a flower. Being told she was even more beautiful than one of her favorite things ever well it made her feel beautiful and for her with her low self esteem and all that was hard to manage.

It has her flustered. Her face continuing to be painted in this light pink hue. "Oh you're just saying that." She spoke with a nervous giggle before delivering another kiss due to how she felt. A soft chaste kiss pressed against his lips.

Morty being able to taste the strawberry flavored lipgloss she wore today. Oh morty was so thoughtful. Even down to making their snacks cute. He knew her pretty well at this point that she loved cute things. That she loved hearts.

She nodded before opening her mouth allowing him to feed her. Oh that action was so romantic she could just die. So caught up in the romance of their date that she hadn't thought all that much about why he was going so above and beyond tonight.

"I dated like a lot and it never ended up good. The relationships or the people I was dating. Maybe because I was dating them for the wrong reasons. To feel good about myself. To feel like someone could like me like that you know?"

Oh geez why was she getting so serious all the sudden? She hoped this talk wouldn't dampen the mood they've struck. "I just wanted to feel loved to the point I didn't care who was doing it." With that she reached for his hand. Intertwining their fingers together. "But with you and FM it's been different. It came when I wasn't expecting it. When I wasn't seeking it out. I saw you and it was like sparks."

God she could feel her face heating up. So embarrassing but she would press on. "Then I got to know you and it was even better than sparks. Like full on fireworks. Like it is right now. I got to know you. Befriend you and you made my life so much better. You really make me happy morty."

"It still feels alien being cared for in this way and it's not a trick or just trying to make me comfortable so I stay through bad treatment in the future. You're everything you say you are. You're sweet and romantic. Kind and considerate. I feel really lucky to be with you. To be with two people who care about me so much. I look forward to getting used to this. Being with you and being with him together."

[cheri-translates]

Headcanon - When he thinks you’re going to kiss him

Original title: 当他以为你要亲他

Original author: 君兮耶君兮 (jun xi ye jun xi)

[ VICTOR ]

Your gaze flits from Victor to the bookshelf, as though pondering on something quietly. While reading his documents, Victor’s sharp senses cause him to notice this. His eyebrows arch slightly as he waits for your next move.

Finally, you come to a decision. You step forward slowly, then lean down in front of him. “Victor...”

“Dummy,” he mumbles with a chuckle. He cooperates, closing his eyes and tilting his chin slightly.

“Hm? What did I do?” You express confusion, reaching out for a novel from the shelf behind him. Since he’s blocking your way, you have no choice but to grab the book through this intimate posture.

Victor stiffens, and he opens his eyes instantly. Your face is filled with question marks as you hold the book before him.

“Why did you close your eyes?”

“...my eyes were tired, so I was resting them.”

“Oh?” You glance at him slyly. “Even though you looked pretty weird smiling with your eyes closed, I believe you.”

In contrast to what you just said, the words “I don’t believe you” are more or less etched on your face in bold.

“...a certain company’s financial status is in line with expectations. That’s why I was smiling.” Unable to ignore the teasing look in your eyes, he sets down his notebook laptop, then stands up and pinches your face. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’m not, I’m not!” You quickly plead for forgiveness. “You’re the boss, so whatever you say is correct!” With this, you rescue your face from his clutches, preparing to flee.

One step ahead, Victor sees through your plan. How could he possibly let you off? He tugs on your arm, pressing you to his chest. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I just wanted to read a book to relieve boredom,” you give him an embarrassed smile. “Since your eyes were closed, I actually planned to give you a kiss reluctantly. It’s your fault for calling me a dummy.”

“Reluctantly?” Victor chuckles in spite of himself. An arm snakes around your waist, causing you to tremble. His finger pad rubs your lips, and his scent occupies all of your senses. 

“Since you’re here, don’t think of leaving.”

[ GAVIN ]

Standing in front of Gavin, you mete out your commands.

“Close your eyes and lift your head.”

Gavin is currently sitting on the bed and fixing a jigsaw puzzle. Thinking that you’re playing a game, he follows your instructions obediently. As he feels your soft fingers tilting his chin upwards slightly, he thinks about how his girl is no longer as shy as before, and knows how to initiate intimacy with him now.

But… nothing happens.

Just as he’s about to open his eyes, the hand pinching his chin shifts over to his cheek, giving it a light tug. “Keep your eyes closed.”

“Okay.”

He doesn’t put much thought into it, guessing that you’re just feeling shy.

You lean over, your warm breaths brushing his face. Gavin feels his muscles stiffening.

All of a sudden, something sticks to his lips. He subconsciously opens his mouth, but very quickly realises that something’s off. The thing that made contact isn’t you, but a cold and rounded object.

“Hey, don’t bite my lipstick!” Your heart aches as you stare at the bite marks on your newly bought lipstick.

“Lipstick?” Gavin’s eyes snap open, spotting himself in the mirror behind you. Sure enough, his lips are now dyed a bright red because of you. He freezes.

You point to your own lips. “Mm. I wanted to test if the shade’s nice, but I’ve already applied another shade. I needed you to be the model.” Tilting your head to admire the view, you chuckle. “Not bad.”

The grip around your wrist tightens. Before you can react, the man in front of you nibbles your lips gently. Two shades of lipsticks meld together, forming a new colour.

After a long while, Gavin finally lets you off so that you can catch your breath. As you lay in his arms with your cheeks flushed, he lowers his head to give you a peck on the lips.

“Your new lipstick looks pretty good.”

[ LUCIEN ]

“Professor Lucien!” You interlace your fingers together with his while lying in his arms.

Lucien looks down, meeting your bright and clear eyes. He responds with a knowing smile, lowering his head in compliance. “How did you know that I wanted a...”

Propping yourself up on his shoulder, you reach for a book on the shelf behind him.

Lucien: ...

“Know about what?” You snuggle yourself back into his arms. Based on his expression, you can tell what he thought was about to happen. However, you can’t resist the urge to tease him. You blink innocently. “I just wanted to grab a book.”

How could Lucien not know what’s on your mind? He bows his head to watch you, the deep pools of his eyes almost sucking you in.

“I thought my Little Miss was going to give me a kiss to recharge my batteries.” Lucien sounds wronged. Along with his usual piteous expression, you aren’t able to withstand it.

You gulp. No matter how handsome the fictional men in novels are, they can’t compare to your Professor Lucien - a feast for the eyes.

Seeing your emotions stir, Lucien follows up with his victory. “Turns out I thought too much. It’s okay, you can carry on with what you were busy with. I’ll just stay here on my own.”

He releases his hold on your waist. If you ignored Lucien’s watery gaze, you might have believed he was genuinely leaving you to your own devices.

“Pfft.” You can’t help but burst into a chuckle. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you close the distance between the both of you. Giving him a peck on the lips, you grin while asking, “Do you still want to stay here on your own?”

Lucien’s return gift is another kiss.

“I think two people might be happier than one.”

[ KIRO ]

You spot something sticking on Kiro’s hair, and think of getting it out for him.

“Kiro, lower your head.”

Misunderstanding your intentions, Kiro complies and closes his eyes. He rushes you cheerfully. “Go on, Miss Chips! I just ate a strawberry flavoured candy, so my kiss will definitely be really sweet!”

You roll your eyes, grabbing a cushion at the side and using it to smack him on the face. “You ate snacks on the sly again! And you hid them from me! I’m telling Savin!”

“Miss Chips, I lied. I didn’t eat any strawberry flavoured candy!” The undisciplined and lawless Little Kiro is most afraid of the Great Agent Savin.

“You changed your story so quickly. Who would believe you?” Although you usually fear Savin’s wrath as well, you aren’t an accomplice this time. If you were to spill the beans to Savin, he might give you permission to eat fried chicken and drink cola right in front of Kiro... Just the thought of this scene makes you happy!

Sensing your doubt, Kiro opens his mouth with an “ah”, showing that there really isn’t anything in his mouth. Then, he reveals a bag of unopened strawberry candies from behind him. “Look, I haven’t opened it yet. I wanted to eat them with you when you got back, but you wronged me.”

Taking the bag, you confirm that it hasn’t been opened. Looks like you truly maligned him. You scratch your head in embarrassment. “Sorry, Kiro. I misunderstood you.”

“Your apology is so insincere. I want a kiss!” Kiro shuts his eyes, straightforward and frank.

With a resigned chuckle, you readily give him a peck.

Your eyes snap open abruptly.

Where did that pitiful Kiro from earlier go to?

All that’s left is a bear cub with a mischievous smile. “You’ve found out, haven’t you? It was actually a tangerine flavoured candy. Miss Chips and I are accomplices now, so you can’t tell Savin!”

[ SHAW ]

You’re standing in front of him, unflinching and unblinking.

“Shaw.”

Meeting your clear eyes, the amusement in Shaw’s eyes darkens. He lowers his head obediently, letting you do as you please.

However, his tone is one of reluctance. “Tsk. I can’t say no to you. Go on.”

You toss a glance at this loose tongued rascal, reaching out towards his hair. Under his gaze of unconcealed joy and an expression which reads, “look at how much I indulge you”… you pluck bits of fur from the top of his hair, tugging on his bluish purple hair in the process.

Shaw, who is just about to wrap his arm around your shoulders for a “deep” interaction: ???

“What? Did you think I was going to kiss you?” You tease, watching his claws hang awkwardly mid-air.

Shaw reacts instantly, retracting his hand and pretending that nothing happened earlier. He glares at you, his attempts to cover up only making matters more obvious. “How’s that possible? I was referring to... yes, the thing you removed from my hair!”

“Little kids who tell lies won’t have girlfriends!” It’s rare to see him like this, and you can’t help but tease him.

“Tsk. You’re so troublesome.” He frowns. Before you can react, he grabs you by the shoulders and seals your lips. You feel a gentle nibble reminiscent of a little animal deathly afraid of breaking something.

Once your breaths return to normal, you lean against Shaw, legs wobbly. If it weren’t for his strength, you’d definitely have fallen to the ground.

Shaw has his arms around you as he presses you to him, the insuppressible smile on his lips announcing his pleasant mood. 

“Who wants to be a little kid? Only intelligent adults have wives.”

More translated and original works: here

-

[ Permission to translate ]

君兮耶君兮: Can, just state the author and the source

[chuuya-centric]

making out hcs

characters: osamu dazai, ranpo edogawa, chuuya nakahara

genre: suggestive

warnings: gn reader, no pronouns used, uhm 🧍 yk it gets a lil steamy and has like mentions of sex ??? but theres def nothing super explicit

—

↬making out with dazai is always ............ interesting to say the least 🧐 it can happen anywhere, at anytime, and you'll never know until it's too late

↬sometimes it'll start out as a quick peck, and then another, and another, and— hey, is it just you or does each kiss keep getting longer 🤨 when did he slip your coat off ??-?_;?? now his arms r around your waist and .............. o look at that he's got you pressed up against the wall with u gasping for air bc he's barely giving you anytime to breathe

↬speaking of, his kisses always leave u breathless 🧎 he is such a good kisser please lord i just know it 🛐🛐

↬he usually just leaves after these types of makeout sessions (much to your annoyance) 💀💀💀 he likes getting you all worked up and then going right back to work like he didnt just have his tongue down your throat and his leg between ur thighs

↬other times his kisses r slower n more passionate from the get-go and u know exactly where this is ab to lead (these types of make out sessions will often lead to sex tbh, they're always really sensual and smooth and he has no intent of leaving u all high n dry)

↬personally he prefers kissing w (a lot of) tongue, but if ur not into it, he'll understand and "do his best" to take that into account (but dont be surprised if you end up w his tongue in your mouth either way 💀 if you like it ? fantastic 😚💖 if you dont ?? he loves seeing u squeal in disgust and try to push him away in surprise LMFAO)

↬he always somehow tastes like sake with a little bit of mint ?;?_(&?$-_??$&? dont ask me how but he does 🤨🚶 that being said he tastes better than you'd expect and kissing him is a magical experience 🤤

—

↬ranpo's kisses r sweet like candy

↬jk but he does taste like candy so ig that wasnt an entirely inaccurate statement 😚😚

↬he isn't usually one to initiate the kiss tbh, he prefers when you do it LMAO 💀 but whenever he does, they're most likely to be a quick peck to your lips or cheek (he isn't really a fan of any kinds of pda bc he actually gets embarrassed rlly easily)

↬behind closed doors, however, is a different story 🚶🧑‍🦯 hes a lil more likely to initiate the kiss and whenever he does ............ o lord 🧎🧎🧎 theyre fs a reflection of him

↬ranpo's kisses r very fun and airy, !! and out of these three men here, he's the most likely to laugh and smile and giggle in between kisses

↬making out with him is an experience given to you from the gods PLEASSSKEEEE and it's never awkward bc if sth happens you'll both just laugh ab it and carry on

↬usually makeout sessions start bc u gave him a kiss, but he was feeling clingy (not that he'd ever admit it 💀💀💀) so he pulled you back in for another, and another, and another, and hey look at that, you've been kissing him for the past 15 minutes and now ur both gasping for breath

↬doesn't really mind tongue, enjoys it even 🧏 and when he tastes so sweet, how could you refuse him 🧐❓

↬OH MY GOD HIS FAVOURITE THING IS WHEN let me turn off caps okay his favourite thing is when he's eating his candies or whatever (probably like hard candy tho yk so you cant just bite into that shit immiediately it has to sit and melt a lil idk) and u ask him what flavour it is and he'll pull you into a kiss and let you taste for yourself and take a guess (dont be surprised if you actually end up w the candy afterwards, he doesnt mind sharing so long as it's with you <33)

↬RANPO MAKE OUT WITH ME CHALLENGE ;!_(&!-??&!:?:!&(:!:!_!&;

—

↬chuuya's kisses r nothing short of rough and passionate

↬his kisses also tend to be v rushed and sloppy however that doesn't mean they're not enjoyable

↬i'd dare call him the middle ground between dazai and ranpo 🤨🧐 kisses aren't like every five minutes (dazai im lookin at you 🤨), but rather spaced out throughout the day as to keep you satisfied

↬once again ............. he is a tongue man. he tastes like a fine (slightly sweet?) red wine nine times out of ten (the other one time he just tasted like straight fuckin mint ??? 😭💀 like ur eyes started watering after and he got really concerned like "babe r u ok 😟” and you were like "yeah but y THE FUCK is your breath so minty" 💀💀)

↬i am so sorry everyone here likes tongue, i'll make more hcs like these feat. mfs who don't like it LMAOO

↬he understands if ur not a fan of tongue, so unlike SOMEONE, he'll actually take your personal preference into account and do his absolute best to keep his tongue to himself 🤒🤒

↬ok so similar to ranpo, chuuya loves sharing his wine w you — thru making out kissing ofc 🧎 never passes up an opportunity to take a (rather large) swig and let it pass between your parted lips (might get a lil carried away and slip u a lil tongue but yk it is what it is 🧑‍🦯🧑‍🦯🧑‍🦯)

↬he actually has a tendency to get carried away regardless tbh 😚 it starts out as jus like a short lil kiss but yk ............ u come back in for another ............... and another — is anyone else seeing a pattern here 🧐🤨❓ these three men r the best kissers in bsd and i do NOT take criticism — and oops, now ur sitting on his desk with him standing in between ur legs as he starts trailing kisses down your neck before he suddenly remembers he still has work to do and he tells you he promises he'll finish what he started later (and oh boy was it worth the wait 😩😩😫🤤🤞)

[idiotwithanipad]

Ten Questions With Alice

Alison: Ten Questions with Alice. Did this with Robin’s daughter, Pin, at the boarder of Barclay’s land last week and he said that I should go back and see if this ‘Alice’ has anything interesting to say (have decided to keep Thomas far away from her since they were alive near enough the same time and he might try to win her over)

Alison: Pleasantly surprised, she actually seems really polite

Alison: Um-..Where were you born?

Alice: My mother birthed me somewhere in Whitechapel. Apologies, I cannot recall where precisely, my mother was a very- busy woman. I can’t recall how long I spent in my mother’s care, I lived with my beloved Aunt most of my life. Mother was an unmarried woman and a nightly worker of the flesh- t’is not the most flattering story one can say they came into this world from.

Alison: Oh, right. Wedlock? Is that the word I’m thinking?

Alice: Yes, precisely. Time does indeed change, thankfully.

Alison: How did you die?

Alice: I recall not when my death had been planned, but if I had to guess, it would be shortly after tragedy took my beloved Aunt and Uncle from me and I was sent to live here with my older sister. She grew jealous, believed her husband to be beguiled with I. However, I have come to the conclusion that I may have perhaps passed away from cyanide poisoning by way of ingestion.

Alison: Oh no. Aw, I’m really sorry.

Alice: Fret not, dear, I have a more comfortable situation now~

Alison: With Pin?

Alice: (Her cheeks tinted red?) Yes, my dearest companion…

Alison: Should I be bringing out a bouquet for you two next time?

Alice: *Laughing* Heavens!

Alison: Anyway, Favourite food?

Alice: Hmm. I always preferred sweetness over savoury. Grapes and clementines were very enjoyable to me. But, for a formal meal, I suppose duck or pheasant with vegetables.

Alison: Still can’t beat a lasagna

Alice: Pray tell, what is a ‘lasagna’?

Alison: (After explaining it)

Alice: Interesting. It’s like you layer all the individual flavours atop each other, remarkable!

Alison: Favourite drink?

Alice: I’d have to say cow’s milk. I wasn’t much for drinking when I lived like so many others, but occasionally I enjoyed Sherry over dinners.

Alison: Favourite song?

Alice: When Master Barclay’s granddaughter was a little younger she had songs to play. My favourite was always Symphony by Clean Bandit

Alison: I remember that one

Alice: Pin and I have enjoyed many songs over the years but we still smile to ourselves when that one returns

Alison: Aww. Favourite Sport?

Alice: I liked tending to the horses and taking them for lengthy walks through the countryside. They were bountiful company and always made me smile.

Alison: Animals always find ways to cheer us up. I should know, a ghost over in our house used to have a dog and when he died she had him stuffed. She wouldn’t stop scowling at me for like a month when it accidentally caught fi-…well, long story. Biggest regret?

Alice: Possibly keeping silent about my situation which lead to my death. If I were clearer and explained to my sister that I had no desire for her husband, I might not have earned her hatred. I wish I could tell her that.

Alison: Yeah, I’m sorry, it sounded awful.

Alice: Yes. Unfixable past mistakes become our biggest of regrets in ways

Alison: Don’t I know it?…Fondest memory?

Alice: I used to compose watercolour paintings of my Aunt’s canaries, they were such beautiful little birds. Perhaps getting to play piano after dinner for my Aunt and Uncle, they did appreciate my songs. And meeting my beloved Pin

Alison: Seriously, should I give you two some flowers or something?…(Alice’s face went beetroot red, it’s obvious they’re in love)

Alison: Worst trait?

Alice: I have a tendency to become timid easily, Pin always says she’d defend me if a problem should arise, but I do hate having to trouble my love-…llly companion

Alison: Uh-huh…Any words of wisdom?

Alice: Sing from your heart, play by your leisure and speak your truth

[fayeimara]

Miya Osamu || Little Delights | First Meeting

SUMMARY. Osamu can't help but be intrigued when his daughter starts bringing home delicious desserts prepared by her best friend's mother.

PAIRING. You x Miya Osamu

GENRE. Fluff <3

WARNINGS. Suggestive content

Haikyuu! Anthology Series | It's Fate When Your Kids Are Friends

OSAMU | First Meeting > Second Date > Third Time's The Charm > Four Is Our Family

Osamu's made it just in time, right as the bell tolls to signal the end of his daughter's second day in her new school year. Standing back as a swarm of kids rush out of the brick building and into the arms of their waiting parents, he takes a moment to breathe and relax. Juggling his burgeoning restaurant with being a single parent isn't an easy job, but he wouldn't trade it for anything.

He stands taller than many of the other adults around him and it's evident his little girl has no problem seeking him out as a black, red, and grey blur races towards him, a thrilled, "Papa!" reaching his ears and splitting his mouth into a wide, happy grin.

His arms are already open in a silent but enthusiastic response as he crouches down and then the bite-sized impact of his daughter is rocking him back on his heels, his reaction overly exaggerated as he pretends to almost fall over from the small force of nature that's all Miya Izumi.

Standing back up, Samu catches sight of another little girl who was trailing behind, wide eyes studying him before shifting to Zumi, his daughter turning back around to wave at her, proclaiming the girl as her 'bestest friend in the whole wide world'. The girl returns Zumi's enthusiastic wave with a quick raise of her small hand before her attention is caught by a pretty young woman, her own wide smile replacing her previously hesitant expression as she's warmly enveloped into welcoming arms with kisses peppered on her cheeks and forehead.

Her delighted giggles reach Osamu and his daughter as they turn around, hand in hand, to walk back to his car, small interaction soon forgotten as his little munchkin lists off the snacks she's looking forward to having on their return to his shop. She won't be able to finish half that list, he bets to himself with a quiet chuckle at his daughter's inherited exuberance for food as he securely buckles her into car.

It's not until they reach his second pride and joy, Onigiri Miya, that he finds the first little surprise tucked away in Izumi's not so empty lunchbox. When he inquires about the remarkably delicious looking set of biscuits he certainly didn't pack for her that morning, his daughter's response is that it's a thank you gift from her bestest friend, Reina, for the lunch she'd shared with the girl on her first day.

Well, a six year old certainly didn't bake these from the looks of it. It's only confirmed by his first taste, the texture and flavour beyond even most consistent home bakers, let alone a young child. Right? But a more pressing thought flags his attention, first.

"Did your friend not have her own lunch?"

"She did! We split because hers wasn't so good, even though her mama put so much love into it. But the treats were so much better so we decided to go halfsies and have best of both!" His daughter giggles with the oblivious sweet innocence of a child.

"And what about today?"

"Mhm. Same. But I liked the chocolate brownies yesterday much much better!"

Samu chuckles at her excitement and can't help but tease his precocious daughter, "Oh, and was it better than papa's food?"

Zumi's eyes widen as she contemplates the question with all the adorable seriousness she can muster, but loyalty must break free and run because her reply is, "Almost! So close, but I love papa's cooking more than anything in the whole wide world."

It seems the whole wide world is the current standard of measurement for first graders, but he appreciates the heartfelt sentiment behind her loving words.

After another moment of consideration, Osamu settles on the thought chewing at him and decides that tomorrow his daughter won't be giving up a portion of his food which she loves so much. No, she'll have double the amount to do with whatever she may please.

So briefly, that he doesn't even ponder on the sudden image, he's reminded of the warm reunion he witnessed between the little girl and the woman who he'd assumed was her nanny, but concludes is probably the girl's young mother. Based on the number of treats Zumi brought back, Samu's certain the woman had to have thoughtfully made extras of these baked goods for her daughter to have more than enough to share with friends and then some.

Well, it's definitely no skin off his back to make his daughter even the slightest bit happier by being able to help her share her savoury little delights with her new bestest friend.

It's on the third day of your daughter's return from her new school year that you're able to confirm that something is indeed amiss. The previous two days, the small portions of her lunch left uneaten were questionable, given her voracious appetite, however, when she returns with the lunch you made for her today still sitting wholly untouched in her cute little lunchbox, you finally sit her down to ask about it.

Her response is far from what you expected, "My friend's papa made extra lunch so we could both have something yummy to eat!"

You press your lips together to hide your amusement as you teasingly inquire, "Oh? Is that so? And I guess that means mama's food isn't so yummy after all."

Her eyes widen in dismay and mouth opens in an immediate denial that you know would be a lie to soothe your feelings. Even at such a young age, your beautiful baby girl is truly a kind and compassionate soul, she would dutifully eat anything you prepared no matter how lacking the meal might be and never utter a word to tell you the obvious truth.

Before she can manage to find the right words to faithfully express how much she loves your cooking, you lean in to kiss her on the forehead and pull back with a laugh, gathering her in your arms for a warm hug. "Oh baby, I'm so sorry I can't make you the food you deserve. But please don't ever feel the need to say otherwise to spare my feeling, okay? You should always be honest about what you like or don't like."

Her little arms find their way around you as she snuggles in, voice soft and words like a wise, old soul when she denies, "But your food is made with so much love mama. Zumi says some people are just better at other things. We both think you make the best yummies."

"The best yummies, hm?" You think about the various baked goods you add in to balance out for the healthy but tasteless lunches you're able to prepare.

They are indeed good, but baking has always been something that comes more naturally to you than cooking. An interesting distinction not many people might accept, but for you the former has always been an effortless science whereas the latter is more of a difficult art.

"Well I'm really glad you like those, but we do need to figure out what to do so you're not picking at your friends' food or going hungry."

She pulls back to send a serious look your way, exclaiming, "But I'm not picking at it, I promise. Zumi said her papa made extra just for me!"

You take a moment to consider her words. She made a similar implication in her earlier statement, that her friend's dad had made extra for them both. What does that mean? Did his daughter ask him to because she was sharing her food with Reina? Or did he somehow grasp the situation and is simply being generous?

A warm burn threatens your cheeks as you consider the awkwardness of accepting such a gesture from a complete stranger. While you appreciate the kindness of Reina's friend and her dad, it still somehow feels like a terrible imposition, as if you've burdened them somehow with your lack of skills to keep your child happily fed.

It's not like you can't cook good, healthy food. You're just painfully aware how bland the food you make can be, unless you spend three times the amount of time as anyone else would need to in order to prepare similar meals. But... studying the smile that's on your daughter's face, you can't help the twinge in your heart that reminds you how much more her happiness is worth than your pride.

You won't assume this will be a daily occurrence and you'll continue to make your daughters lunches so she never goes without, however, it'll be no extra trouble for you to make double the batch of baked goods than usual. After all, you usually account for the fact that she'll be sharing with friends and classmates anyways.

However, you're now determined there will be enough delicious snacks for Reina to share not only around at school, but also some treats for her sweet friend Izumi to take home for her generous parents. Perhaps, you think, it might be prudent to include a short message, thanking the man for his thoughtful effort.

Silent gratitude isn't very much to anyone ~ (So I hope you and your family will accept these.) Thank you for your kindness, Miya-san.

Osamu blinks, unaware of the small smile that curves his lips as he reads the delicate, handwritten note carefully wrapped around one of the cupcakes Izumi brought back home today. There are only three of the original twelve left, apparently, but the one he's just bitten into is as incredible as expected.

If he's correct in his assumption from the note addressed directly to him and included with today's delightful treats, then the little girl's mother has picked up on his small action and is returning the gesture to convey her thanks. The thought is confirmed by his daughter explaining that one of each of the three cupcakes is for their family.

Three for their family? Hm. Well, it's just him and Zumi, but he's sure his brother will be all over the remaining offering when he visits tonight. If there's any left for him that is. Probably won't be, it's really just that good and anyways, he doesn't need Atsumu nosing his way into this simple exchange as it is.

The following day, Friday morning, Samu pens back his own note, assuring the woman that no thanks is necessary. There's no reason for her to express her gratitude over what's really such a simple action for him.

That evening, he and Zumi enjoy some quality mochi delivered in a white, rectangular box with a pretty decently hand-drawn background scene at a spring festival on the cover. Two little girls, one that looks remarkably like his daughter and the other like her best friend, hold hands in the centre of the street dressed in traditional yukata and sharing a box of what he assumes is mochi.

As they much into the chewy treats, he watches and listens as his daughter points out the bright colours she and her friend chose to fill into what was apparently initially a blank canvas for them to colour on. Her delight at having a pink and grey yukata, even if only in a drawing, prompting him to make a mental note about looking into the clothing and any upcoming festivals.

Osamu makes a point of saving the box, childlike scribbles over the simple sketch leaving a warm feeling in his chest and a slightly wider smile gracing his mouth.

The response he receives the Monday evening (from his penned message the Friday before) is enough to prompt a full smirk that, this time, doesn't go unnoticed by him. The woman showed an interesting sense of humour and gracious acceptance with the first cupcake note. Then, a sweet and thoughtful disposition with the drawing included as part of the soft treat for the girls Friday.

But now, Samu sees a challenging firmness in her reply to his easy brush off of her thanks, delicate lines yet again adorning the small card carefully tucked into a pretty red ribbon that's tied around and decorating another white, rectangular box.

Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it ~ So please accept this gift without concern.

Sitting inside are four differently coloured, rounded treats that look familiar but he can't place off the top of his head. A quick search identifies the delicate confections as macarons, the colorful delights an absolute wonder as the airy crunch of the top and bottom shells simultaneously give way to a firm filling with the first bite, the sweet flavour almost dissolving on his tongue.

He and Zumi finish the box off in minutes, three of each flavour included to a total of four different flavours, so both he and his daughter each get seconds of their respective favourites.

The next morning, filled with anticipation at what new surprises you might include with the goods you send today, he's fully aware of the grin that stretches his face as he writes out a note of his own for you to receive later this evening.

The macarons were inspiring. Izumi and I definitely won't turn away any gifts you'd like to send our way. I wonder... what other surprises do you have up your sleeve? I sent a little something your way to inspire you too. - M. Osamu

The neatly written note returned, once again, on the back of the small rectangular card you'd last sent, brings a warm smile to your face. The various onigiri that came along with it, apparently with specific instructions communicated from Izumi to Reina that today's additional quantity is set aside for you specifically, stretches the amused curl of your lips into a delighted grin.

You split each of the four different types of rice balls with your daughter, listening to her input on the delicious food as she points out her order of most to least favourite. Although there's not a single one you wouldn't eat on any given day if given the choice, the food is simply divine.

Your note the following day is a compliment to the chef, with a cheeky inquiry as to what deities one must pray to in order to make food like that. His response is a swift rebuttal asking what cruel gods bless some with the skills to cook but others with the skills to bake, ironically echoing your own thoughts from the previous week.

So goes the back and forth for weeks, notes getting cuter, sassier, and more personal as jokes, challenges, and encouragements alike are enclosed among the lunches of two excited little girls, their own bond strengthening with this unique camaraderie between their parents, until you feel the peculiar sense that you know the man on the other end, without ever even having actually met him.

Then, one day, three weeks into the first exchange, you receive a note that makes your heart beat in your throat at the unspoken challenge which raises the stakes of the now familiar routine. It's a simple response to your unassuming request for the onigiri recipes you initially received as the first returned delight, a meal you and Reina have been craving since the first taste.

I can do one better and teach you. xxx-xxx-xxxx. - Osamu

There's no reason to be shy or hesitant, is there? After all, it's a kind offer that will only serve you and Reina well with your future attempts at her lunches. You can't count on Miya Osamu's kindness forever.

Fingers still shaking, you dial the number enclosed within and find the call picked up before the first ring even finishes.

"I wasn't sure ya'd actually call."

Oh, wow, that's a voice to melt hearts alright. You're still smiling as you immediately reply in beat, with the easy familiarity of your shared repartee over the last few weeks, "With an offer like that, how could I not?"

He's quiet for a second and you start to lose your smile, suddenly worrying that perhaps you've acted too familiarly with a man that's all but a stranger and offended him. But his next words, slowly expelled in a lazy but thoughtful drawl, have your heart beating fast for an entirely different reason, "I had a feeling ya'd sound as pretty as ya write."

Now you're the one that's silent but it's entirely because you're at a loss for words, this quietly charming man having stolen them right from the tip of your tongue.

A low chuckle breaks what you realized was actually somehow still a remarkably comfortable silence and then his delicious voice reaches you again, "I hope I didn't scare ya voice away. It'd be a shame now that I've only just heard it."

Okay so he's maybe much more of a flirt than the subtle hints you'd noticed over the notes, but then again, they were delivered through your daughters as messengers so it would be reasonable he would have toned it down. Then again, what kind of man flirts with a woman he's never met previously? He doesn't even know what you look like. Have you captured his interest solely through your mutual correspondence?

You almost snort, catching your thoughts and feeling like you're the main character to some historical romance. Maybe during a world war era. Mutual correspondence. Right. What are you even thinking? He's got you flustered already.

"Funny. I would never have imagined you would sound so pretty from the way you write." You're tempted to arch an eyebrow with your audible smirk but then you remember that it's not like he can see it.

"Ya think my voice is pretty, do ya?" His tone is full with soft satisfaction, "Maybe ya can tell me if it's better in person."

"And here I thought the offer on the table was for learning a delicious recipe."

You swear you hear the smile in his response, "Sounds like yer in either way."

"Sounds like I am." You concede in mock resignation but you're painfully aware that your words and following sigh sound more like a promise.

You and Reina find the charming storefront quite easily from Samu's instructions. It's finally the weekend, several days since your first call with him, and your handwritten notes have now upgraded into convenient, daily text messages.

He's definitely confident and teasing but not quite the overt flirt you briefly considered he might be from a few days ago. In fact, he's more calm and grounded, even if he can be a smooth talker, but you've quickly found that what came across as flirtatious was actually just him being honestly direct. Which is both exciting and flattering enough to make you nervous for this first real meeting today.

A soft chime sounds as you open the door to usher Reina through before following her in yourself. The first thing your eyes land on is a small girl running to your daughter like a heat seeking missile and the two collide in an adorably sweet hug, somehow understanding each other while seemingly talking simultaneously.

With a small smile on your face, you take a moment to survey your surroundings and find your bearings in this unfamiliar space. It's not an overly large area, focusing more on a cozy, comfortable atmosphere emphasized by the deliciously welcoming smell of various foods that make you feel right at home.

Your eyes run over the bar with stools lined against it before you do a double take, finally noticing the dark haired man that's leaning with his arms crossed against a door frame beyond it, watching as you examined his space.

He must be able to tell he's slightly startled you as an amused smile stretches his lips and he dips his head ever so slightly in greeting. "Welcome to Onigiri Miya."

"Thank you for inviting us, Miya-san." You bite your lip at your automatic formality, already certain what he's going to say next.

And he doesn't disappoint, eyebrow arching as he uncrosses his arms and, finally, steadily makes his way towards you, "I already told ya to call me Osamu. Or Samu."

Now you're smiling again because the situation is definitely out of the ordinary, the level of familiarity you feel with a man you're seeing for the first time can only be considered unusual. You take a moment to study him as he stops just before you, tall build with broad shoulders and a handsome face that looks like it belongs on a heartbreaker not a homemaker.

Your fingers itch to push back the locks of his hair peeking out from under his dark cap and falling over on side of his forehead, if only to have an excuse to run your hands through it. But that's definitely not appropriate no matter how comfortable you might already feel with this easygoing man.

"Right... Osamu, then. And of course, you can call me Y/n."

"Yer name and looks suit ya, just like yer voice and handwriting." He's got a small smile on his own face now and you're not sure if he's aware he basically just called you pretty. He doesn't really seem to do this on purpose, from what you've gathered.

You beam at him regardless and volley back, "Well, I can say the same for you too."

And for a brief second, that small smile splits into a quick grin that stutters the already erratic beat of your heart. Oh yes, this man is certifiably lethal in all the best ways.

"I'm happy to hear it. Now, let's sit ya down with the girls while I grab some things."

Izumi has already led Reina to a table by the window and Osamu gestures their way as he moves to lock the door behind where you came in and then moves off to the kitchen behind the bar again.

You notice with a little apprehension that the girls are sitting next to each other on one side of the booth still giddily talking together (although not over each other anymore) about friends and weekend plans and such, but you're not going to be the anxious oddball that separates them for seemingly no reason. Even if you're already sure of the overthinking you'll be doing at the thought of Samu sitting next to you in the booth.

He doesn't seem to think about it at all as he easily slides in, smoothly setting a plate and a tray with cups, glasses and a couple pitchers on the table just as you feel the left side of his body line up against your right. Okay, yeah, because this is totally normal for you. Not.

You hope neither he and especially not either of the kids can tell you're flustered, even as you feel the heat creep up your neck and flirt with your cheeks. Yup, normal day, normal day. Just a regular day with a new friend.

"Here ya go." You just hold yourself back from jumping when he hands you a cup from the tray and then leans over to pour what looks and smells like tea from one of the pitchers. If you're not going crazy, he's pressed even more against you for those long seconds, completely in your space even if it's not unwelcome.

He either knows exactly what he's doing or he's just one of those people that's never paid mind to polite social norms and rules of conduct that many prefer. While you're calming yourself down, he's already poured the girls juice from the second pitcher into their glasses and set out quarter plates in front of everyone.

You finally focus enough to take in the still steaming gyoza on the plate he'd placed down in the middle with confusion and ask, "I thought we would be making onigiri and eating it for lunch?"

"Of course, but I couldn't put ya to work on an empty stomach."

"Mhm." You give him a dubious look, you might have mentioned your early breakfast in one of your texts to him this morning, but you have a feeling that this is also an effort to make you and Reina feel comfortable in this space together instead of getting right into the cooking lessons planned for the day.

It's an incredibly thoughtful effort and that warm flush is threatening you again so you choose to tease him and deflect instead, "Somehow, I feel it's more about your empty stomach but okay, let's go with your version instead."

You lose the fight with the flush and flutters when he chuckles at your sassy retort, especially since you literally feel the vibrations melt from his body and into yours with the way he's still somewhat pressed into you. Does the man not have enough space in his own booth? Actually... you notice you can move closer to the window yourself since there's quite a bit of space on your side too but, then again, it would be a little obvious to shift now.

The girls pick up the fried dumplings by hand with happy exclamations as they bite right into theirs, you and Osamu following suit but not before placing another two on the plates in front of each of them and then splitting the remaining ones between you.

With a dip into the soy and vinegar sauce (chili excluded for the girls), you quickly bite into the first one and savour the sudden burst of flavour in your mouth. Oh wow, yes, this is exactly what your cooking is missing. This addictive, tasteful quality that makes you want multiple helpings of whatever's being served.

With a glance from the corner of your eye to the right, you meet Osamu's eyes studying your reaction and decide to ask the question on your mind, "You made these yourself right?"

"I did."

"Okay, they're hands down the best gyoza I've ever had." You compliment him genuinely before giving in to the urge to  tease him yet again because the flutters are back, if they ever even left, and you can't have him knowing just how much he affects you, "But who ever heard of serving gyoza in an onigiri shop?"

He must catch the light, teasing tone because he just smirks and throws right back, "Well if they're as good as ya say, maybe I should expand the menu."

"Oh no, don't do that!" You laugh with wide eyes, "Then Reina and I will never find space when we try to come back here during regular hours! Actually, I'm sure you're already always packed, hm?"

"Some days and times less than others, but there will always be space for the two of ya whenever ya want to visit again."

Oh yeah, it's a losing battle, the flutters are a full on tsunami of feelings now. Just push it away and chill. But then he adds, "And I can teach ya this recipe too. Anytime there's something ya like or want to try, just let me know. I'm sure we can make an amazing cook outta ya yet."

Your mouth drops open followed by your blurted question, "Why are you helping me so much? I'm sure this is a lot of time and effort for you too."

You hear the girls' conversation pause as they pick up on some subtle change in either your body language or demeanour, but Osamu's calm eyes just meet your wide ones, his lips sliding into a soft smile, as he simply answers, "Because I like ya."

You feel like you're back in grade school because you want to ask if he means that he 'like' likes you or just... likes you. But there's no way you're going to ask that question, not only because it feels a bit asinine but because that's not a conversation to start in front of both of your daughters.

You look over to the girls who are watching with beaming smiles, maybe happy their parents are good friends just like the two of them, and you return their wide grins with a reassuring one of your own before looking back into steady grey eyes. "Well, I really appreciate your help. Thank you, Osamu."

"I'd say no thanks needed, but I've been down that road before." Another quick, heart-stopping grin graces his face, this one almost as roguish as his tone is playful. He's definitely referring to your initial correspondence when you made a firm point against his initial brush off, as if his actions in making extra lunch for your daughter to enjoy wasn't incredibly thoughtful and certainly out of his way.

"Well you certainly catch on quick. Let's just hope I can say the same." Your playful smile turns into a grimace at the thought of how difficult it might be to actually improve your skills. Maybe it's just a question of talent? Maybe you're just never going to be able to reproduce food like him.

But he glances over to catch your frown just in time and reassures, "I know what I'm doing. Soon enough, you will too. Just say you'll keep supplying me and Zumi with yer baking every once in a while when ya don't need us anymore."

You know he's probably joking with the last part but you hadn't planned on stopping. You love to share the goodies you bake with the people in your and Reina's life, it makes the two of you pretty happy so you're sure Izumi and Osamu will be able continue enjoying your baked goods to their heart's content.

"Izumi will definitely get her share of sweets and snacks every day." You send a smile her way when she hears you and bounces excitedly in her seat but then you force yourself to drop it and face Osamu with a challenging look instead, "But you... well, I guess we'll have to wait and if you're as good as you say and maybe then you can get some too."

He places a closed hand to his chest as if he's been struck, the girls laughing at his overdramatic reaction, but his widening smile gives him away. You look at each other for a suspended moment, with shared amusement but also the teasing heat of something else reflected in his achromatic eyes, which makes you certain he picked up on the unintended double entendre in your words.

"Sounds like a promise." Then with an arched eyebrow at the empty plates and cups in front of everyone, Samu asks, "So shall we get started?"

You agree, helping him clean up the table and he takes the opportunity to help you and Reina familiarize yourselves with the kitchen. The rest of the afternoon is spent in an equally easy cadence as he does indeed walk you through the steps of making his recipes, flavours included.

He starts with the simplest option, yaki onigiri, which is just fried rice shaped in a triangle or oval, and then demonstrates how to make and add a few of your and Reina's favourite fillings in to change and enhance the flavour. The girls enjoy making their own mini rice balls alongside the two of you and the time flies until you're all back at the table and having the onigiri you've just made for lunch.

You can't deny there's an improvement already but your little rice balls are still nowhere near the level of skill and flavour of Osamu's, even though he and the girls all assure you that you've done a great job. You accept their compliments with a smile and the determination to keep at it on your own time until you improve even further because Reina deserves better than even this.

By the time you finish eating, the girls are unsurprisingly tired out and choose to stay at the table to watch a Disney movie with Izumi's iPad. You can't help but smile in amusement while watching Osamu grab the thing from behind the bar, tapping away on the clunky looking device which is perfect for Izumi with a thick, pink rubber cover protecting it from grade-schooler level damage.

After the movie's been set up for the two worn out little munchkins, you and Osamu head back into the kitchen for him to show you how to make the gyoza and the next hour slips away with more teasing jokes, increasingly heated looks, and slightly bolder touches.

You can close your eyes and now know the feel of Osamu's hands on yours, demonstrating how to properly fold and pleat the wrappers. You can still feel the heat of his chest brush your back from when he leaned around you to pick up an empty bowl to place in the sink, and you're pondering on what feels like a heated brand on your hip where he lightly curved one hand to shift you over.

You can't deny your attraction to the man, a slow fall that you should have seen coming from the excitement of receiving his words every day until you were eagerly expecting the notes, to this first meeting where he's everything you expected from reading between his lines and even more.

Since the girls are pretty much full, you and Osamu clean off the new batch of gyoza between the both of you - him more than you, which you tease him about again. All the while, you're panicking about this new realization of your feelings, given that you're seriously crushing on a man who might only mean to help as a newfound friend and maybe you're the one reading too much into his interactions.

It's not until you've helped him clean up, collected the girls, and are watching him lock up the shop that you get some semblance of an answer.

"Thank you again Osamu. This was not only very instructive but Reina and I had a great time today."

He's holding Izumi's small hand in his, similar to Reina's in yours, and his other hand stretches up to rub at the back of his head, his arm bent at the elbow. When he speaks, it's not a direct response to your gratitude but a question instead, sounding somewhat unsure himself for the first time today, "How about next time we have a date that's more fun than instructive?"

Your jaw almost drops in surprise but you quickly collect yourself because he's still looking a little worried, maybe because he thinks he's overstepping by calling this a date or maybe because he's not sure you'll want another one even if you do accept that.

Your smile is quick to light up your face and, with a light squeeze from Reina's hand to yours accompanied by her and Izumi's giggles, you happily reply, "Just let me know when and where, and it's a date."

He grins again, the third time today your heart stops at what you're sure is usually a rarer sight since bodies aren't always dropping to the ground around him (that you've heard of). "I think I might already have something in mind."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, but let me look into it and get back to ya."

"Sounds like a promise."

With your final reply, a borrowed echo of his words to serve as a temporary goodbye, you and Reina split away from Izumi and Osamu. Heading for your car with once last look behind you, you're pleasantly unsurprised to find a flash of gunmetal grey also glancing back your way. Later that night, finished with your and Reina's joint skincare routine and having tucked her into bed, you find the expected message waiting for you.

A/N: Okay wow I had SO much fun with this one! I hope you all do too <3 It's not triple edited per usual so please do let me know if you catch any errors or issues. No promises but probably dropping Atsumu’s First Meeting next ;)

Taglist: @yatoatyourservice, @crayonwriting

© 2021 fayeimara. All rights reserved. Please do not repost, modify, or claim as yours.

[script-nef]

So why won’t you realise it '^' | Gojou Satoru

Category: fluff

1.9k words; Movie date [2/6]

Spoilers of Howl’s Moving Castle!! Beware!!

← Previous chapter | Masterlist

“Eh, Shouko! What do you mean you can’t make it?”

“I mean, another person is about to come in and they need me to heal them. By the time I’m done the movie will be finished.” Shouko’s voice over the phone is laced with annoyance and sadness coupled with lethargy. You don’t know how she pulls off such a unique combination of emotions but she somehow accomplishes it every time. “And I was looking forward to it…”

This would have been the first time you had a break with her since the trip to France. And while she enjoyed it a lot, the same couldn’t be said for the two males. Which was weird since Gojou is infatuated with sweets and Ken-chan agreed to come. So it was kind of weird when there was a tense atmosphere between them. You know your brother and Gojou are nearly polar opposites, but their animosity wasn’t usually that strong. 

They brushed it off as nothing when you asked if something was wrong, which was sort of dubious since you could kind of see the black cloud looming over the both of them, but you let it go. If it was something important, they would be able to handle it themselves or report it to you. You couldn’t sense any cursed spirits nearby so you guessed that they were just in a bad mood for some reason.

Still, you had a wonderful time and found some new snacks that everyone enjoyed. So a day well spent, all in all. 

And Ken-chan told you to tell him if Gojou ever offers overseas trips or anything similar, so he must have enjoyed it. Maybe you can ask Gojou to take all of you to Denmark one day.

“Ah… my dear Howl. Life and curses separate us again.” Her voice is full of sadness now, no doubt mourning over her chance of watching her favourite character on a huge screen with surround sound disappearing. 

“It’s okay! I’ll bring you the figurine and we can watch it again here in about… uh…”

“Ten years?” She sounds like she’s about to drop dead.

“Uh… yes… But maybe five years? Hopefully? You know, I shouldn’t watch it without you. I’ll come back to school.” 

“No, no. Watch the movie. At least you’ll get to see it. Ah, they’re coming now so I have to go.”

“Ah, okay. Bye, Shouko! Stay positive!”

A non-committal sigh accompanies a small “Bye” before the call clicks off. A frown takes over your face at the lost opportunity for her. She was looking forward to this for a long time and you leapt at the chance for another girls’ day out. Being able to watch a childhood favourite is an added bonus. But now you’re standing in the movie theatre, the ticket desk just across the room and an extra on your hand. 

It’s a shame because it cost quite a lot. Shouko is definitely going to mope about this when you get back and maybe start smoking again. She always has a pack on her even if she said she quit, and smokes one if she’s stressed or angry. You should call someone and make sure somebody takes it away from her.

You should probably hold onto the ticket and give it back. Or maybe that would make it worse for her, serving as a reminder of this day. Conflict rages inside your head. There’s a high possibility of either decision breaking her heart. Again. A buzz from your phone saves you the trouble of deciding.

Shouko: I sent someone as my replacement. 

A tap on the shoulder makes you turn as you type in a reply and you come face to face with a black jacket. Gojou’s head pops down.

“Hey there. I think you called for a replacement!” He seems to be in a ridiculously good mood, even more so than usual. Maybe his students successfully finished another mission. Which is great. It also means more paperwork for you. Which is not so great.

“How did you com—ah. Teleportation.”

“Ding ding ding! Correct!” He's been using the skill more frequently lately, popping in and out of places like one of those Whac-A-Mole games. . It gives you heart attacks all the time and you’re sure he gets a kick out of it. You saw how his smiles widen when you flinch or react. Thankfully it’s when you’re alone so other people never see you jump what feels like a metre into the air.

“Do you want popcorn?” He breaks you out of your thoughts. “I think they have the new caramel flavour. Apparently it’s way too sweet.” So perfect for Gojou. Even though he’s asking if you want it, there’s a spring in his step which definitely means he’s getting some. Probably the biggest option they have.

And you’re proven right because he comes back with two huge buckets which look impossible to finish. When you try to object, he cuts off with “I’ve eaten three buckets before. Alone.” With the smile he’s giving you, it really doesn’t sound like he’s joking. You try to take one to lighten the load but he says it’s alright. 

He signals the way to the theatre rooms with his head, walking beside you as you find your way.

“So what’s the movie?” Your head snaps to him in confusion.

“You don’t know?” A shake and a shrug. “It’s Howl’s Moving Castle. This was Shouko’s idea since she loves it and this year is Studio Ghibli’s 40 year anniversary. The cinema is having an exclusive showing of their movies this month. Only one session per movie, for some reason. Surely they would make more money if they played it over multiple days, but. I dunno. Executives make weird decisions.” A light scoff from him to tell he knows exactly what that’s like. His hatred for the higher-ups runs deep. You don’t push it.

“So she wanted to come but got held back at the last minute?”

“Yeah. Ah, here are our seats.”

You’re placed in the very middle of the room and you both make yourselves comfortable. Shouko went all out for this movie, upgrading the seats and making it a recliner. Your poor back, abused after sitting in chairs and hunched over computers for so long, practically melts into the plush cushion. It’s so comfortable that you might fall asleep in it if it isn’t Howl that’s about to start. 

Feet dangling in the air, you look over to Gojou to see him on his phone. It looks like he’s in a chatroom and you catch the words ‘Shouko’ and ‘favour’ before looking away. You didn’t mean to peek, but it’s not like you can consciously not read something. It was in your line of sight and you averted your eyes as soon as you realised what you were reading. Your brother brought you up better than to pry into other people’s businesses, even if it’s really, really tempting.

“Phones need to be placed on silent, you know.” The ads are coming on the screen. He smiles at you, slipping it into his pocket.

“Just talking to Shouko. She says she hasn’t even started properly.”

Disappointment fills you. Gojou is a good friend to watch this with but you hoped Shouko would somehow miraculously finish in time. She would be devastated.

“I’ll have to make this up to her when we get back. Give her the figurine and keep her hap—ah! I forgot! Gojou, I was supposed to ask someone to take her ciga—” He cuts you off with a light pat on your hand.  

“Don’t worry, I did it already. All of them are safe out of her reach and I gave her packets of hot chocolate instead. When we get back, she’ll have drunk at least half of them and be in a good mood.” What a Gojou-like replacement. He smiles like a child wanting pats on the head for a job well done. You just barely catch yourself from moving. 

Gojou gets a rep for being aloof and neglectful, but he does take care of the people he holds dear to him. His friends, members of the school, his students. You hope you’re included in the list. 

Actually, the more you think about it, the more you realise he’s different from initial perceptions. You learn more and more about him as time goes on, in the most delightful sense. He’s somewhat like an onion, new characteristics being revealed every time a layer is peeled. A snicker escapes at the thought of Gojou dressed up like an onion, just waddling around. He shoots you a questioning head tilt which you wave off.

In the years that you’ve known him, he made himself into a trustworthy friend. One full of laughs and ridiculousness. Maybe it’s his childishness that puts you at ease, but he’s incredibly comfortable and easy to relax around. Thoughts trail and the words fly out of your mouth before you even think.

“You know, I think you would make a wonderful boyfriend.”

He freezes completely, like somebody’s zapped him in place. You stare at him, wondering what’s wrong, but the lights dim and by the time he gathers coherence, your concentration is on the opening sequence.

“Ah, that was so good! Ugh, I love Howl. Isn’t he so cool?” You skip out of the room, remembering to take the figurines provided at the exit, with Gojou trailing behind you. “You know how she asks him to wait for her in the past? The first thing he says to her in the movie is ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’ He searched for her the entire time! This is modern poetry. This.” 

“Do you think Howl would be a good boyfriend?” The question stops you. It’s different than usual for some reason, the voice asking the question and the intensity of it. He’s still his aloof self, all smiles and grins, but there’s something you can’t quite place that’s wrong. It’s unnerving, but you diligently answer his question.

“Um, I mean, yeah? Look at how cute he is with Sophie. See?” The figurine is a frozen shot of Howl and Sophie dancing in the rain with an umbrella that’s not being useful at all. They’re both incredibly detailed, so much so that you can see their clothes and skin drenching wet. Wow, this is actually a phenomenal job. Shouko will be so happy. It makes your heart lighter knowing that at least something might light up her day. 

“Why is he cool?” Gojou seems to be invested in Howl. It confuses you since he just watched the movie with you and he saw how awesome Howl is. 

“Hm, well for one he can do magic.” He opens his mouth but you shush him with a finger to his lips. “Yeah, I know, what we have is kind of like magic too. But theirs is just… different. He just makes it seem kind of elegant. And he overcame his fear just for Sophie. Remember the scene with Sulliman and in the cluttered bedroom? He still found the strength to protect her even though he was so scared before. It’s admirable. I guess I like strong guys.”

“Hmm~” His tone is contemplative. “You know I’m stronger than him, right?”

A question mark forms over your head. He’s being really weird today. “Yeah? You’re the strongest in the universe, silly. What’s up with you?” Gojou just chuckles and ruffles your head.

“Nothing, nothing. Just making sure you know.” He slings his arm around your shoulder, the intensity gone and the light spring in his step back. “Who else do you think is strong?”

Next chapter →

[oumaheroes]

hii its bougie <3 if you're still taking hc requests, i was wondering if you'd have thoughts on something that's been on my mind for a while. i was interested in the nuance to english culture due to regional differences. eg.,dinner being called "tea" in the north of england, rugby being more popular in the south, the difference in how scones with jam and cream are enjoyed in Devon and Cornwall?? or how certain english accents are perceived as... "less attractive" i guess (the black country accents are unpopular apparently?) -- you'd probably know more about these particularities than me ;u;

i was wondering how these cultural differences might map onto hws England's character, and how they might influence his attitudes and behaviours. because there's such a clearly defined stereotype of the english that i think shape people's expectations of what the english are like, i usually think that Arthur usually consciously acts according to what counts as positive interpretations of himself. however, i love nuanced and somewhat subversive interpretations of his character, and am very curious if you might have any ideas on how these kind of internal regional differences might shape him.

--------------------

Bougieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee <3

I’m not gonna lie this sent me down a RABBIT HOLE of thoughts, so hang on tight cos we're gonna get messy.

Accents:

Let’s start with my personal favourite, so excuse me whilst I geek out for a second. I’ve gone into this area already in this headcanon, but I personally see England being a very proud little dragon regarding English accents, those both native and non-native to the British Isles. Focusing just on accents within England for this post, the way Arthur himself sees them, (regarding class and general preference), comes a lot down to how I see him feeling about language and the unification of England in general.

England is a tiny country. It’s really teeny, compared to some, and yet holds an incredible number of regional accents and dialects (from digging about the internet for a good source, I keep finding numbers ranging from 37 to 43). There are a number of reasons for this, but the one that I love the most is that accents are influenced by the previous/ influential other languages spoken in a given area. Accents on the East of England are more influenced by Viking invaders, both phonologically and via the dialectal words used, and accents/ dialects in the West are more influenced by Welsh, for example.

Accents and dialects tell the history of a place, all who ever came there and influenced it to some degree. The map of English accents is a patchwork quilt of old cultures and people now lost to time, but their ways of speaking have been preserved in the modern tongue. The old English kingdoms might now be mere counties- Kent, Essex, Sussex, East Anglia, etc- they may not have their own influence or language these days as they used to, but their old ways have been imprinted on their people of today whether they know it or not and they carry pieces of the past in their words and how they speak them. Older speakers of the Northern English dialects liek the Yorkshire dialect still use ‘thou/thee’ where this has fallen out in other areas, the Midlands and parts of the South-East still keep the ‘-n’ ending for possessive pronouns (‘yourn’ instead of ‘yours’, ‘ourn’ instead of ‘ours’), and there’s even some linguistic research into how Brittonic, the ancestor of Modern Welsh, influenced English structure and phonology (for references, see notes at the end).

Back to England the person (to contain myself slightly), his regional accents are a story of himself, his history being kept alive in all of its variety every day. He doesn’t hold a classist view of a ‘good’ or ‘bad’ accent because he knows why they’re all there- what languages and people influenced them and how these events affected him- the older generations now lost and forgotten being kept alive in the smallest of phonemes.

Every dialect, every accent, and every language tells the story of a people, from the smallest phonological marker right up to a language as a whole and England takes comfort and pride in his dialects and accents’ longevity and variety. He is as much of the North as he is the South, as much of the East as the West and a patchwork man born of patchwork cultures it makes no sense for him to favour one particular accent over another.

That being said, he is aware that there is a common cultural stance on accents as well as an opinion regarding ‘ugly’ ones, ‘common’ ones, and ‘classy’ ones, but he himself doesn’t partake in these ideas. I like to think that a nation takes on the speech of the people and the area they’re in, matching the person they speak to or the area they visit to relate to their people. So, for me a Chav Arthur exists as much as a Brummie one does, or a Scouser, or a Geordie, or a Cockney. They’re all English, and thus they’re all a part of him.

Class

I have to include this one, if only to touch on it lightly regarding accents and dialects. Class does influence which words you speak, arguably just as much as which accent (this is known as a sociolect). Although I said that England adopts the accent of whatever area he’s in, or whomever he’s talking to if they’re English, the class people are will also affect which words he choses to use.

Here’s a short example from here:

'It is pudding for the upper class. Dessert is sometimes used by upper middles, but afters and sweets very clearly put you below stairs.'

Have some more!

Upper class: Spectacles, Lavatory or loo, Die, Napkin, Sofa

Middle class: Glasses, Toilet , Pass on, Serviette, Settee or couch

(Working class is a mix but harder to find sources for).

This is where England treads a fine line. It could be that he again adopts more of a class lexicon regarding who he is speaking to, matching his people word for word. However, England is not unaware of the affects of class, regardless of how he himself feels, and also although class snobbery and divide frustrate him, he cannot deny using this understanding to benefit himself, which also conforms to how his own people behave. (I myself have, many times, diluted and filtered my speech to be seen as ‘better’).

Want to be seen as more reliable and powerful? Want to be taken more seriously? RP and Estuary English (a lot more so these days), hold undeniable sway and England is not above adopting a manner of speaking to come across ‘better’ or more polite, or a more ‘common’ accent to fit in with the working classes. I think of England as leaning more towards a working-class mindset- he’s very hands on, very up for and used to manual labour and this particular English class has always made up the bulk of his population. It makes no sense for a nation, who represents all of their people, to have a snide view or a preference for a particular group and England as a person I see is someone who does not enjoy the foppery and false airs of aristocracy.

That being said, England is an intelligent man. He knows how to work a room and use a crowd to his advantage, knows what must be done and what he needs to do to achieve a goal and if this entails courting the upper classes for a time then he will do so. He’s adepts at switching himself like a chameleon, blending his behaviours, accent, and dialect to match who he’s talking to to achieve a goal or to fit in with someone’s perception of him, or to gain influence or prestige. He also doesn’t hate his upper classes- they are of him too, and the middle and working class have their own prejudices and ideas against the others. But he doesn’t adopt a stereotypical distain of lower classes because to him, it really doesn’t make much sense.

Abroad, this need to cultivate a particular perception defiantly comes under greater pressure. RP and Estuary English are more well know, more heard and taught, and more recognisably ‘British’, and so these are what he uses when speaking English to other nations or foreigners, either wanting to uphold an image of himself (more so in the Victorian/ Edwardian period than nowadays) or just for the ease of being understood.

Regional Differences

Okay, this one is a lot more fun. Does England put in his milk first or last when making tea? Does he put jam first, or clotted cream when having a scone? Does he have chips with gravy, or curry sauce? Does he have dinner at 6, or 9? To marmite, or not to marmite.

Ah, that is the question, and England does not know the answer. Does he do what he does because that’s what he likes, or because that’s what his people do? He didn’t grow up with these habits, after all, they’re all relatively recent in his lifetime, and so these habits are defiantly things he cultures for a particular audience.

I’m not really sure if the above preferences are class based, (well, milk first when making tea is argued to be, but I can't find any sources I'd consider entirely credible. I put the ones I did find in the notes below, in case any one's interested), so it’s hard to get a sense of which one to use. Overall, it doesn’t matter which you do and neither is right or wrong, but the English feel strongly about them, one way or another, and often Arthur the man isn’t sure at all which one he himself actually thinks is better.

Food in another sense though is something he can be surer of. A Cornish pastie not from Cornwall is not worth eating, nor is a Bakewell tart outside of Bakewell. England can be very particular about this sort of thing and enjoys maintaining and supporting the ‘original’ flavour or recipe of a thing where he can, considering this to be the ‘best’. Sally Lunn Buns from Bath, Gypsy tarts from Kent, Eccles Cakes from Eccles.

England wants to preserve his food and culture and has what could be considered a snobbish view on the ‘best’ way of creating or eating his national foods. Some things he is more lenient with: he will eat cheddar cheese, whether or not it is from Cheddar, same from Cumberland sausages not from Cumbria. But he certainly has a preference and he is not afraid to voice this when asked for his opinion.

Okay, we're done

Phew! This had me digging out my old linguistic student brain. To anyone who has made it this far down, gosh golly miss molly thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the ride, and especially @prickyy who was kind enough to want to hear my opinions about all of this <3

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Notes:

Brittonic influence on English:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brittonicisms_in_English

https://scholar.google.co.uk/scholar_url?url=http://journals.mountaintopuniversity.edu.ng/English%2520Language/Celtic%2520Influences%2520in%2520English%2520A%2520Re-evaluation.pdf&hl=en&sa=X&ei=2ohDYdq3BoWImwHn6oWQAg&scisig=AAGBfm29zTF0FBCpd1KqDiAbjM-0X7nfoA&oi=scholarr (PDF)

https://scholar.google.co.uk/scholar_url?url=http://www.oppi.uef.fi/wanda/unicont/abstracts/14ICEHL_MF.pdf&hl=en&sa=X&ei=2ohDYdq3BoWImwHn6oWQAg&scisig=AAGBfm3UvOXbJEb0b51J73eBnTJvgGaQOA&oi=scholarr (PDF)

Sociolects and class distinction within language in English:

https://languageawarenessbyrosalie.weebly.com/social-dialects.html

https://www.grin.com/document/313937

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/U_and_non-U_English

Milk in tea first and the potential class reason:

https://www.theteaclub.com/blog/milk-in-tea/

https://qmhistoryoftea.wordpress.com/2017/05/11/milk-in-first-a-miffy-question/

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Masks We Wear

Warnings: non-consent sex, depression, suicide, self-harm, drugging, overdose. If you don’t like any of these themes, do not keep reading. For real, it’s hidden under a keep reading link so you can check out now. Take care of yourselves, my dudes.

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Synopsis: You find yourself at the end of your rope but someone unexpected picks up the other end.

Note: I wrote this for me and I won’t apologize for that. I love a sweet Steve that turns slowly. Heed the warnings.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You stared at the number. The digits slowly punched into your phone glaring back at you. Your finger hovered over the icon that would connect the call. The screen blurred in your vision as the tears rose again.

Had it really come to this?

You had to call. You knew that. If you didn’t…

You hit call and raised the phone shakily to your ear. You hugged your legs as you sat on the floor against the side of the couch. You still wore your work uniform, a navy shirt and dark pants. You played with your name tag as you waited for the line to pick up.

"You have reached the National Crisis Lifeline. If you are in emotional distress or suicidal crisis or are concerned about someone who might be, we're here to help. Please remain on the line while we route your call to the nearest crisis center in our network." The automated voice recited the greeting as you unclipped the tag and set it on the arm of the couch behind your head. 

It wasn't too late to hang up. To suck it up. You could help yourself. You were an adult. So why was it that you couldn't put the phone down?

"Hello, my name's Steve. Who am I talking to today?" The voice was placid, calm. You were thankful not to be met with the usual, fake, chipper customer service voice.

"Uh," you uttered. You stared at the window across from you and blinked. "Um, um, um." 

"Take a breath," the voice was male; soothing. "Whenever you're ready."

You inhaled and closed your eyes. You bent your elbow over your knees and dropped your head. You said your name and sniffed. " I don't know why I called."

"We don't have to talk about why you called. We can just talk." He offered.

You cleared your throat and wiggled your nose as you felt more tears prick at your eyes. "I don't have much to talk about. I work, I come home, I sleep, rinse, repeat. Even when I have free time I got… nothing. No one."

"You don't have family?" He asked.

"Not that I talk to."

"Hmm, have you ever thought of reaching out to co-workers? You already spend hours with them."

"Most of them are kids. College freshman who'd rather do anything else than hang with me." You sat up and leaned your head against the couch. "I'm a thirty-year-old loser. I work retail and eat ramen for dinner. I may as well burn my degrees… maybe along with this damn box I live in."

He said your name, gently. "I want you to take another breath and then tell me three good things about your life. Just three. It can be something that happened today, it can be something you own, it can be something you like about yourself, or even something you can do tomorrow to look forward to."

You scoffed and shook your head. He repeated your name and you swallowed your resent.

"Alright," you took a breath, "I have a roof over my head." 

"Good."

"I… I made a woman happy today by finding her a gift for her daughter."

"Mhmm."

"And… and I still have some of my favourite tea left."

"Amazing. See?"

"I guess but… but these things are so small and it's always the same. Nothing ever changes. Nothing's going to change and nothing is going to get better."

"Change is small, like those things, so sometimes it's harder to see those changes."

You were silent. Tired. 

"I want to ask you something, okay? You don't have to answer if you're uncomfortable."

"Alright?" You shrugged.

"Have you ever hurt yourself or thought of hurting yourself?"

The question made you squirm. The tears finally broke through and trickled down your cheeks.

"Yes… but it's better than hurting someone else, isn't it?"

"No, because you're still hurting someone. In fact, you're hurting the most important person in your life. Right?"

You were quiet again. You wiped away your tears and leaned your chin in your hand. 

"Sure."

"I want you to do something for me. Actually for yourself, okay? I want you to go get some of that tea and make yourself a cup. Then I want you to drink it slow and enjoy it. Every last sip."

"What?" You snorted.

"I want you to make it a habit. Every day I want you to do one nice thing for yourself."

"It's just tea."

"What kind of tea is it?"

”It's this blueberry lemon stuff I found down at the market. Nothing special."

"That sounds delicious." He said. "Where are you right now? Are you sitting? Standing?"

"I'm sitting by my couch. On the floor."

”Alright, baby steps. Stand up.” 

You huffed but did as he said. "Okay?"

”Now, let's go to the kitchen.”

Again, you obliged him.

”Now, let's get the kettle on and a mug.”

”Alright," you grumbled and took out everything you needed as he listened from the other end, ”Alright, it's all good to go.”

”And what are you thinking about?”

"The tea?" You said dumbly.

"And? Anything else?"

"No. Just…"

"When you get frustrated with standing still, it's not about making big leaps. It's about the small things. So don't think about what's happened or what's going to happen. Think about what you can do now. Think about the present and what you can do to make it a little better for yourself.”

You frowned. He was making sense. You hadn't been worried about your wasted years in university or the angry customers on your horizon, you had been thinking about the tea and what mug to use. All that stuff didn't matter in that moment.

"You said you're Steve?” You asked.

”Yes,” he answered softly.

”Thank you. I… I'm sorry if I wasted your time."

"You didn't. You're not.” He assured you. ”We can keep talking if you like.”

"No, no, I think… I'll enjoy my tea and you can help someone else."

"Alright, but will you do me another favour?"

"Um, sure?" You watched the kettle, a long way from whistling.

"I work every Tuesday and Thursday after six. Will you call me next week? I'll give you my extension. Just let me know you're okay and how the tea was, okay?"

"I…” you rubbed your chin and turned to lean on the counter, "yeah, I'll call."

📞

You decided to call Steve on Tuesday. The same nerve-wracking wait before the line picked up and you quickly punched in the extension he gave you. There was a beep as you were held on call waiting and you fiddled with the edge of the notebook where you'd written down his information.

He picked up after two minutes. The same greeting as before. 

"It's me." You gave your name and winced as you wondered if he even remembered you.

"Hey," he said smoothly, "Good to hear from you. Did you have a tea today?

"Um, now, I just got home."

"Well, did you do anything nice for yourself?"

"...no." You admitted.

"Well, then go make a tea and tell me everything else you've done this week to be good to yourself."

"I…” you stood stiffly and went to the kitchen. "I haven't… I went to the park on my day off," You filled the kettle and put it on the stove, "But I've been working mostly."

"That's it?"

"I've been busy," you said.

"You don't have five minutes for you?" He asked doubtfully. "You gotta make the time. Even if it's just five minutes to sit down and clear your head."

You opened the cupboard and stared at the line of mugs, each one different than the last.

"Steve…" you said carefully, "What do you do when you're not doing… this?"

"Tell me what you do and I'll tell you." He countered.

You sighed and grabbed the mug shaped like a teddy bear. " I work at a clothes shop. I know, it's exciting."

"What kind of clothes do you sell?" He asked.

"I don't know… mostly, uh, business stuff." You placed the cup down and fished out the blueberry tea. "I sell clothes to people with more important jobs."

"Your job is important. You help people. You told me yourself last week. You know, I help people too. How we help isn't as important as the fact that we do help."

You rubbed your chin as you fingered the chip along the handle of the mug. "How exactly do you help people, then?"

"Well, I do this," He answered, "And I work security."

"Security? Like at a bank or something?"

"Or something," He replied, "So, did you just call to tell me you're okay or did you wanna talk about it?"

"I told you, not much changes." You muttered.

"It will once you take my advice. One thing a day. Got it?" He urged. "I want you to start by going to the market tomorrow and getting yourself a new flavour of tea."

"I gotta work," you bemoaned.

"Five minutes on your way home," he said, "we're not looking for the perfect tea, just something new. Then you call me and tell me if it's any good."

"I thought… I thought you didn't work Wednesdays."

"You're right," he chuckled as if he hadn't realised. "Tell you what, I'll give you my number and you text me. Every time you do something for you, let me know… and if you don't, I'll remind you. Deal?"

"I… I don't know." You picked at your nail as you held your phone between your shoulder and ear.

"One text a day. That's all." He said. "Wouldn't hurt to have someone on your side, would it?"

"I g-guess," You stuttered as you caught your phone before it could slip. "I'll get a pen."

📞

The texts were small at first. ‘Had a tea’, ‘started a new book’, ‘read a chapter on my way to work’, or ‘bought a piece of cake on my lunch’. Each one seemed more absurd than the last but after a few weeks it became a habit. Steve nearly always responded quickly, just a few encouraging words but it made the days easier. It made life easier even when the big things got you down.

It was your day off. You took on a few extra hours the week before so you decided to go out for your treat that day. You went about your routine slowly, not your usual frantic I gotta catch the train pace. You preened yourself and pulled out a pair of pale jeans and a knit sweater. You tucked your feet into your comfy sneakers and headed out with your purse and headphones.

You would take a long walk through the park then sneak out the east gates to grab something special from the coffee place just across the street. Then you would head back and enjoy the scenery as you sipped at whatever overpriced concoction you settled on.

It was the early days of fall. The warm air was undercut with a cool breeze; an omen of the seasons to come. You put one earbud in and tucked your hands in your pocket as you walked along the winding path. The leaves were still green and lush and the air smelled of pollen. You stopped on the small bridge that crossed the small creek at the centre of the park.

You continued on and checked the time. It didn’t matter, you had the whole day to yourself. Like Steve said, think about now, not then, not later.

You came out onto the New York sidewalk and neared the curb. You looked both ways before dodging between the stagnant traffic and hopped up onto the pavement on the other side. You neared the short iron fence that edged the patio of the coffee shop and joined the queue of people as you looked over the menu.

Hmm, a rose-infused latte was different. You’d never thought of flowers in your tea but you never were overly creative. You ordered, the largest size despite your troublesome bladder, and waited for your turn to grab your cup from the ledge. It was busy that day and you hid against the wall to keep out of the way of others.

Your name was called and you grabbed your cup. You went to a table and slid your phone from your pocket. You snapped a frame of the drink and typed beneath it before you hit send. ‘Today’s little thing is actually a large :)’.

You pushed your phone back into your pocket and wove your wait to the exit. You were stopped as your name was called for a second time. You turned as a blonde haired man neared you. He was oddly familiar. Startlingly, actually. 

Steve Rogers was calling your name. Not such a strange sight in the city but you’d never chanced to see him beyond a television screen or magazine cover.

“Hey, what are the odds?” He showed you the phone in his hand; the picture of your drink stared back at you. “I never thought--” He smiled. “Oh, this is weird, isn’t it?”

“Steve?” Your eyes were round and your mouth fell open. “You’re… oh, wow, I…”

Someone else called his name and he peeked over his shoulder. “I’m up. Would you… would you wait for me?”

You nodded dumbly and watched him stride through the crowd to take his coffee from the counter. He gave a thanks and dropped a large tip into the jar. You watched in shock, barely stepping out of the way of another customer.

He passed through the opening of the fence and neared again. You snapped your mouth shut and swallowed. Your mouth was dry but the steam rising from the cup warned you it was too hot.

“How… how did you know it was me?” You asked.

“Well, I heard your name and then saw you with your phone and uh, well, the message was just confirmation of my suspicions, really.” He grinned. “Which way you heading?”

“Um, I came through the park,” You pointed across the street. “Probably not your neighbourhood.”

“I can make a detour,” He waved you towards the street and you hid behind a car as you waited to cross. 

He stepped out first and caught your hand before you could fall behind. He pulled you to the other side and you nearly stumbled onto the curb.

“Sorry,” he let go suddenly, “You know New York drivers.”

“No, it’s… fine,” You walked beside him as he neared the archway that fronted that end of the park. “I’m just… I’m gonna be honest I’m a bit shocked right now.”

“I know it’s weird and a bit… unethical. At the centre, we’re not supposed to associate with callers outside but… it’s all just a happy coincidence, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I, uh, suppose,” you lifted the cup and inhaled the sweet aroma of sugared petals, “but I’d hate to get you in trouble.”

“Nah, it’s fine, if you don’t tell, I won’t.”

“I… can delete your number.” You offered, “You didn’t have to--”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” He eschewed, “It’s fine. I just… you didn’t seem to like calling the hotline but I didn’t want you to get lost in the shuffle.”

You chewed your lip and played with the strap of your purse. You let out a breath, heavy and anxious. You’d never expected to meet Steve. More so, you didn’t expect him to be THE Steve Rogers. You had spilled out your ridiculous insecurities to him. God, he must have thought you were so pathetic.

“I’m fine,” you said, “I would’ve… been fine. I was just in a bad spot.”

“So…” He walked close to you. His cologne smelled of sandalwood. “How’s work?”

“It’s work,” you shrugged, “Wait, you said you did security. Jesus!”

“Well, I do, in a sense,” he chuckled, “You know they really don’t encourage me telling people I’m an avenger at the centre. It kinda shifts the attention in the wrong direction.”

“Hmm, I guess it would,” you muttered, “Well, thank you, for all your help. Really, you have helped.”

“I never expected… I don’t know what I expected,” he went on, “how I pictured you. I just didn’t-- Not that-- I don’t mean...” 

He shut up and cringed. He looked around at the trees and let out a sigh.

“You’re right, this isn’t a little thing,” he mused, “it’s beautiful out here.”

“Yeah,” you said rigidly and raised your cup to your lips and tasted the foam, “I guess I’m just happy it isn’t raining on my day off.”

📞

Steve walked you to the other side of the park and you left him there. You finished your latte in the block before your apartment. You were still shaken from the meeting. The chance of such an encounter was so vast you hadn’t even thought of it. You had built yourself up to talk to a stranger on the phone and leave it at that, not to face him and your problems all in one. You were embarrassed despite Steve’s friendliness. You couldn’t help but feel the taint of pity.

You tried to leave your shame on the street. You went up to your apartment and slid the chain into place. You turned on some music and did your leftover dishes, a sense of accomplishment as you wiped down the counters afterward. The rest of the day was yours to do with as you wished. But you were restless. The feeling that made you want to pace and chew your nails.

You flipped on the television and opened your phone to stream some mindless video from Youtube. You settled on a compilation of clips from a reality show and slumped onto the couch. As you laid back, your phone shook your hand and a notification flashed across the top.

‘Hope you got home safe.’ Steve’s message disappeared just as you read it. You pulled down the status bar and hit the bubble to open the chat.

‘I did. Thanks. Funny running into you. Hope the rest of your day is good.’ The message was clunky and awkward. The whole thing was weird and you just wanted to forget about the run-in.

‘So what else are you doing on your day off?’ His next message made your phone buzz and you blinked at it. He never really said much in return, just things like ‘that’s awesome’ or a few emojis. You thought of how excited he had been to see you. You were sure he talked to hundreds of people so why?

‘Watching TV’, you answered and put your phone down on your stomach. You tried to focus on the television but your phone rattled again.

‘I don’t want to overstep but can I ask you something?’ You were on edge as you read the message three times over.

‘Okay.’

‘You think you might want to get coffee again next week?’

You hesitated. Was he asking you out? No, that couldn’t be it. Was he merely checking in to make himself feel better? That was a better explanation. Believable. You let the screen turn black and thought. You could say no. Probably should.

You unlocked the phone as you heart pumped in your chest. It was Steve Rogers. What harm was there in saying yes? Maybe, for once, you would actually make a friend.

📞

You met at the same coffee shop. This time you sat down and got a scone with your tea. Steve got a coffee and nothing else. It seemed an afterthought as he only watched you pick at the crumbly dessert.

“Are you okay?” He asked as you sipped from your tea.

“Yeah, just… I’m sorry, I’m just a quiet person.” You shied away. 

“That’s fine,” he said, “I understand, you don’t talk to many people outside work.”

You frowned and sat back. He was right but it didn’t make the truth easier to hear. You nodded and shrugged.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way. I guess I have the same problem, you know. I spend most of my time with my team members or talking to the press.” He rested his hand around his mug. “It’s nice to have someone who isn’t tied up in all of that.”

“I mean… I’m just… me.” You ran your nail down the side of your cup. 

“And? I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. I think you’re too hard on yourself.” He insisted.

“Well, you barely know me,” you countered.

“I don’t? How many people know about the dark times? How many people do you let know?” He asked.

“It’s not… it’s not their business.” You crumpled the napkin and tossed it on the empty plate.

“It might help if you opened up more. You said you were lonely--”

“I was having a bad day,” You snapped. “Steve, I don’t… I didn’t come here to talk about all of that.”

“Then why did you come?”

“Because you asked me to.”

“And why do you think I asked you?”

You shrugged and crossed your arms.

“I asked you because I see what you can’t.” He said evenly. “You’re kind, you’re smart, you’re beautiful to be completely honest, and you won’t let yourself see it because the world hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows for you.”

“I-- I--” You sputtered and looked around. “No.” You stood and gathered up your dishes. “I gotta go.”

“You’re doing it right now,” He stood too and blocked your way, “Trying to run from the little bit of good.”

“I don’t know you. The only reason we ever met is because I was going to--” You gulped, unable to force the words out. “I think this was a mistake.”

You pushed past him and planted your dishes on the counter. You stormed out as Steve followed and the door jingled behind you. He trailed you across the patio and onto the sidewalk. He caught your arm and pulled you back.

“I’m trying to help you,” he hissed.

“I don’t need you to save me, Captain,” You yanked your arm away. “I’m not one of your missions.”

His brows drew together and his lips turned down. He had never looked anything but happy, neutral at worst.

“Fine, go,” He threw up his hand, “But I’ll be around if you need me. When you need me.”

You spun and stomped away from him. You were humiliated, assured of your worst suspicions. You were a pet project to him. He was trying to fix you. Another rescue mission for the First Avenger. Next time, you would listen to your gut and say no.

📞

Work. Again. It was dead and Marcy, your manager had you dusting the racks for the fifth time that day. You dragged the duster over the already shining rod that held hangers of dress shirts. You felt your phone vibrate and ignored it. Likely just another reminder to claim your daily prize in that stupid word game.

You kept on as you were, staring out the windows of the store front onto the shining street. Your phone buzzed again and you peeked over at Marcy. She was reading one of her novellas behind the large counter. She never hid it very well but really didn’t seem to care either.

You slid your phone out and moved onto the next rack. It had been over a week since Steve had messaged you. He had tried several times after the tense coffee date but had given up at your silence.

‘How are you?’ He asked as if you hadn’t been ignoring him. You pushed the phone back in your pocket and it vibrated for a third time. You should just block him already. You took it back out and ready the next message. ‘I know you’re working but you can answer me.’

You squeezed the phone and blacked the screen. You put it away and returned to your futile dusting. The door opened as you neared it and you stopped short as one of the only customers of the day stepped inside. You gaped as Steve looked around with a grin.

You heard Marcy clear her throat and you looked over at her. You shifted on your feet and lowered the duster.

“Hello, sir. Welcome to Silkz, how can I help you today?” Your throat was tight as he focused on you.

“You know, I need a gift for… a friend but she’s a bit hard to please.” He said. 

“Oh,” Your lip twitched as you tried to smile. Marcy was always nagging you for your resting bitch face. “Well, what were you thinking, sir? A scarf? Some jewelry?”

“Maybe a dress. I always tell her she needs to change things up and I think it would be a good switch up.” He replied and stepped a little closer.

“Over here,” You said abruptly and backed up as you waved to the wall behind you. “This is our new collection. Lots of reds this fall.”

You glanced at Marcy as she smiled primly and her eyes fell back to her tale of romance. Steve followed you closely as you touched a long-sleeved burgundy dress with a pleated skirt.

“This should be plain enough that it should fit anyone’s taste. Of course without being too plain.” You offered. “Did you know what size you would need?”

“Oh, she’s about your size,” Steve said, “And I was thinking something less… well something with more skin.”

You nearly tripped over your own feet as you tried to keep your distance from him and found a dress in a lighter shade of red with cutouts at the sides and a slimmer silhouette. You grabbed it and held it almost like a shield. He barely even looked at it.

“I’m sure it will look wonderful on her,” he remarked, “Can you show me the jewelry? I might get her something to go with it.”

The jewelry stand was in the other corner. Far from Marcy as she kept to one side of the counter and hunched over her book. You rounded a table of folded slacks and led him to the rack. He followed and stopped beside you as he took a necklace with a feather ornament and pretended to look at it.

“You haven’t been answering me,” he said under his breath.

“Yeah, might be a hint,” you retorted, “what are you doing here?”

“Checking in. Making sure you’re okay… since no one else knows how you can get.”

“Do you realise how fucked up this is?” You hissed. “I… You can’t bring those things up.”

“You won’t. You can’t outrun it forever. I see it in you. You told me yourself. You’re desperate for a change.” He hung the necklace again. “I can change everything for you.”

“What do you want?”

He looked down and took a bracelet from the rack; a silver band with a red rose ornament. He held it out to you. “I want a change too.”

You took the bracelet and backed away with the dress folded over your arm. “Is that everything?” You said loudly.

“For now,” he answered as he kept close and you kept away by rounding the other side of the counter, “I think she’ll love it… it’ll look great on her.”

“I’m sure it will,” you said as you scanned the items. “How are you paying, sir?”

📞

The rest of your day dragged by. There were no distractions to keep you from thinking of your run in with Steve. It was as if he had flipped a switch. No long the cheerful, concerned man, there was something sinister behind his otherwise caring words. The way he’d watched you, followed you so closely, the mere tone of his voice. He was angry and you couldn’t help but feel you had asked for it.

You left reluctantly as Marcy locked up. You caught the train, watching over your shoulder. You had never told Steve where exactly you worked, you realised as you swayed with the movement of the subway. There were dozens of clothing stores in the city, how had found yours?

You got off and climbed the steps to your apartment. Would it be too much to file a report? He hadn’t done anything but bought some merchandise from the store you happened to work in. But he had offered his number to a caller at the centre and he had pursued her beyond that. Yet, you had agreed to it all.

You were, as ever, so stupid.

You stepped off at your floor and your hands fumbled with your keys. You couldn’t calm down. There was something so off about all of it. Steve showing up, the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. You pushed inside and swung the door shut before you could process what awaited you within.

Steve leaned against the back of your couch, arms crossed, as he watched you expectantly. Your hand lingered on the door and he shoved himself away from the sofa. He tutted his warning.

“You won’t make it down the hall but I don’t mind a chase.” He sneered. “You’ve already taken me on one, haven’t you?”

“I don’t--Steve… whatever it is you think…”

“I think I’ve only tried to help you. I think you just like to be the way you are. Low, sad, pathetic.  I can make you more.” He neared and you pressed yourself to the door. “I will make you more. I will make you happy.”

“Please,” you whimpered as he took your purse from you and placed it on the table beside the door.

“Shhh,” he ran his fingers along your cheek, “You know what they always told us at the crisis center; you gotta hit bottom before you can lift yourself up.”

You shuddered as he dragged his thumb across your lip.

“This is your bottom, sweetie.” His hand dropped to your shoulder and ran down your arm. He took your hand and pulled you away from the door.

He led you around the couch and sat, taking you with him. You tugged against his grasp and he squeezed your hand painfully.

“Sweetie, I just got us a nice bottle of wine.” He smiled. “Take a breath, have a glass, relax. We’re going to figure this all out. Together.”

Your lip trembled as your thoughts bloomed all once; the confusion, the fear, the despair bubbled up and left you speechless. He replaced his hand with a glass of wine and held your fingers around it. He let go gently and you held onto the glass if only to keep from falling apart entirely.

“Go on, have a drink.” He urged.

You looked at the dark red alcohol. You were never much of a drinker. Your father had been a lush. Your heart sank as you found it impossible to move. He pressed two fingers to the base and pushed it up until the rim was at your lips. You drank and he tipped the glass until you emptied it. When he let you lower it, you were dizzy and your stomach burned.

You placed the glass down and fell back against the couch. You touched your hot cheeks and he leaned in as he watched you. “The alcohol will add to the effect but I’ll call someone before it’s too late.”

“Effect? What?” You touched your forehead and your lashes fluttered. You tried to breathe away the wine but the spinning only got worse. “What did you do?”

Your vision was blurry as you looked over at him. He put his phone to his ear as his other hand rested on your thigh. “Hello? Yes, I need- I need help.” His voice was frantic, perfectly believable. “My girlfriend, she-- she’s passed out. I found her on the floor… I think she took something. Please, I can’t get her to wake up.”

He played the part so well you even believed him as you were drawn deeper and deeper into the void. Your eyes rolled back as you heard him give your address and you slumped against the arm of the couch. Your limbs were heavy, your head heavier. You couldn’t resist the warmth that surrounded you.

📞

You woke up to steady beeping. The sterile smell of the hospital made your nostrils dry and you groaned as you fought to open your eyes. Your entire being hurt; inside and out. The bright lights made your head throb and a figure beside you moved closer. Your vision cleared slowly as you looked at Steve and he took your hand in his.

“I’ll get the nurse, sweetie,” He said. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Wha-- St--” Your tongue felt thick in your mouth.

He left you and returned with a woman in green scrubs. She made a note on your chart and looked at the machines you were attached to. She was gone just as quickly and left you with Steve who once more clung to your hand.

“I’m here for you, sweetie. We’ll get through this together?”

“What… what did…” You mumbled, “what did you do?”

“I saved you,” he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Alright,” The doctor swept through the open door, “Now, it’s good to see you stable, miss. That was a close one.”

“I--” You blinked as you tried to pull your hand from Steve’s but were too weak to do more than moan.

“We’ve managed to flush the drugs out of your system and your vitals have returned to normal. It is hospital policy to keep you under surveillance for three days but given Mr. Rogers’ crisis training and reputation, we feel it in everyone’s interest to release you to him.” The doctor explained. “We’ve explained to him the precautions to be taken and you should be confident in your safety under his care. Furthermore, we will have you return for some counselling when you are up to it. Again, you must already be aware that Mr. Rogers is also capable in that aspect.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Steve said as you stared.

“Please,” You said weakly.

“Remember, Mr. Rogers, your check-ins. Every four hours.” The doctor took a paper from his clipboard and handed it to Steve. “She’s lucky to have you.”

The doctor left and you watched helplessly. How could they release you to this stranger? How could they not keep you under their own supervision? Were you just another bed to be freed up? 

You grumbled as you tried to sit up and only did so as Steve helped you.

“I’ll get a chair and then we can get you dressed, sweetie,” he said, “you’ll be safe with me.”

📞

The world passed by you as you watched it through a haze. You couldn’t seem to break through the frosted window before you. Steve moved you from the hospital to his car to his building to his bed. You barely recalled any of it as you reclined against the fluffy pillow. You were trapped in a limbo; never quite awake and never quite asleep.

And then you were painfully conscious.

Steve was beside you. The room was yellow with soft sunlight. You felt lighter but not free. A thick arm slung across your middle and he drew you close. He rolled you against him and you pushed against his chest as you faced him. His blue eyes were on you, deep and dusky.

“I called your work. Let them know you were on an indefinite leave.” He bent his arm behind you as he hugged you to him. “Permanent if you want.”

“Steve, what are you doing?” You breathed.

“Changing your life. That’s what you wanted,” he brushed his nose against yours, “you don’t have to work. You can stay here and find your happiness. With me.”

“No, please, Steve…”

“You said you were lonely, you hate your job, that you’re running out of time,” his breath glossed over your lips, “I can fix all that.”

He lifted his head slightly and kissed you. You curled your fingers and clawed his shoulder. He rolled you onto your back as his tongue poked at your lips. You resisted but he was persistent. You let him in and moaned around the intrusion.

He pulled away and framed your face with his hand as he gazed into your eyes. “I meant it when I said you were beautiful,” he purred, “The moment I saw you, even the moment I heard your voice, I knew I needed you. I knew I was the only one who could make you happy.”

“Steve, you don’t know me…” You pushed against him. “You don’t even know me.”

“No one does because you won’t let them,” he traced your hairline with his fingers, “But I’m not going to give up. Ever.”

His hand closed around your chin and he kissed you again. He rocked his body against yours. You wore only a tee shirt and nothing else, the cotton thin between your bodies; his entirely naked, you realised.

His hand slid further down as his lips moved against yours. He pushed his hand beneath your shirt and groped your chest with a hum. You winced and sank your head deep into the pillow as you tried to turn away from him. He circled your nipple with his thumb as his cock twitched against your thigh.

He forced his knee between yours and you gasped as you ripped your lips away from his.

“Steve, what are you-- please.” You begged.

“I just want to love you,” He murmured, “You deserve to be loved.”

His hand crawled down your stomach and nestled between your legs. You flinched and your thighs tensed against him. You wriggled and crashed his lips into yours again. You tried to pull his hand away from you but he was too strong. You suffocated beneath him and against his will.

His fingers slipped along your cunt. It had been more than a year since you’d been touched. It was intoxicating despite your reticence. You shook and as his fingers flicked over your clit and you gasped into his mouth. He rubbed you until your arousal slicked his touch and you grabbed his arm as a tickle spread down your legs.

He turned his hand and pushed his fingers inside of you. He bent them and pressed his hand to your bud. He parted from your lips and rested his cheek against yours. He rocked his hand and the pressure inside of you mounted in his grip. You arched your back and bent your legs around him. You couldn’t resist the sudden flutter deep in your core.

You slapped your hand against his neck and  your fingers curved against his skin. You gulped at air as your orgasm rose against your will. Your muscles tightened all at once and the pleasure flooded from you suddenly. You drowned in it and let it carry you away.

Slowly, he removed his hand, leaving a trail over your stomach as he pushed your shirt up. He shifted and his cock prodded your pussy. He prodded your entrance and lined himself up he cupped your breast. He pushed inside a little at a time. Your nails sank deeper into his flesh and your other hand went to his shoulder.

He pushed himself to his limit. You had never felt so full. He tilted his hips and you moaned. You turned your head back and forth as he began to thrust; carefully, decisively. Each time, your voice grew louder. 

He caught your chin and kissed you. He planted kisses along your cheek and down your neck as he continued to rock into you. His pace built, little by little, and the bed quaked beneath your bodies. Your hands fell to the pillow and you clenched it as your body melded with his. 

You forgot all that had brought you there, the worries that hung over you endlessly, the fears, the doubts. You whined as another orgasm burst within you and you squirming beneath Steve. He grunted as he sped up, fueled by your cries, and pushed himself up as his hips moved against you.

He stared into your eyes as his sweaty blonde hair fell forward and his square jaw clenched. He saw back as he grabbed your hips and tilted you against him. He snarled and his motion turned stunted and strained. He growled through his teeth as he came, his nails cut into your flesh and he filled you with cords of hot cum. 

He stilled you and let out a long breath as his shoulder curled forward and he hung his head. He squeezed your hips and caressed your thighs. He lowered himself over you and turned onto his side, keeping you against him as he lingered inside of you.

“I’m happy,” he uttered, “Are you?”

Your lashes fluttered as hot tears rose in your eyes. As reality sunk in like concrete and you stared over his shoulder at the wall. You were numb yet your heart swelled in terror. You nodded as a tear leaked from the corner of your eye.

“Yes,” you lied.