#good luck to anyone who actually reads it

[lilflowerpot]

This is the anon that asked for funerary stuff, thank you!! And as for how I got here... I actually don't remember much of it (what am I, an amnesiac protagonist?) but I think, I think one of the people on my dash reblogged a post about VLD, I followed the trail bc I was supremely bored that day, and then one thing led to another and I stumbled upon one of your worldbuilding posts to which I went, “...fucking fantastic” and fell down a rabbit hole. I'm somewhat of a worldbuilding nut myself, though I tend to focus more on the cultural stuff than the sciency stuff, and you tackle both of them and I just couldn't help but be deeply riveted! Sci-fi or any sciency stuff isn't my specialty, and I'm not one to turn down a learning opportunity. So that's how I came to follow and read your notes, LOL. I'll get to Little Blade soon, vacations coming up after exams! When I finally read LB, may I ramble my reactions to you in your ask inbox?

[original]

That is honestly the most valid explanation, and one I can d e e p l y relate to lmao; intriguing worldbuilding can draw me in to just about anything!

Believe it or not, sciency stuff is also very much not my forte, and more often than not it's the asks I receive that prompt me to sit here like "shit,,, that's //such a good question// I guess it's time for me to buckle down and read up on this niche subject for the sole sake of fleshing out my entirely-too-long voltron au" asdjvghsvdvasfak it's a Legitimate Problem™ actually, but I'm in too deep ¯\_(-∧-;)_/¯

You may ofc ramble in my askbox as much as you'd like! Some people prefer to do so here rather than Ao3, but no matter the platform I'm never going to turn away someone's thoughts on my writing—I do hope you enjoy it!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hi!! I love this series so much, and as someone who hasn’t really drawn since they were a kid but wants to start as a hobby, do you have any advice for sort of learning to doodle on paper and get better at it? I want to start but I don’t really know how/where

The most important step in getting better at any skill is Persistence and Consistency. Practice and keep practicing! The best way to do that is to keep it fun! Picking a project helps generate ideas (e.g. drawing Pokémon, or characters from a series you like). There are also a ton of monthly prompt lists out there!

I also highly recommend scheduling in a 'drawing/practice' time in your day. For me, I started with 30-60 min before bed (bonus: its a good 'no screentime' activity), and the habit took root there.

There are a lot of 'technical' things to study but find the fun first. At a certain point you will discover you've hit a wall, and have a specific aspect/goal you want to target (colour theory, anatomy, lighting, comic layout). Then it's time to go looking for resources.

Once you have the habit and some goals, go collect some inspiration! Find people who inspire you and study their work!

Another little 'art skill builder' I recommend is the Shrimp Method! Only if you find technical challenges like this fun though (Example of one of my studies below)

[brainlessbaguette]

Y'all I am so scared. This could either be great or an absolute dumpster fire of a movie. Why live-action? No seriously why live-action??? For Zelda, the games that are so wonderfully cartooney even at their most serious? Why is Avi Arad producing a Zelda movie? His mixed bag of movies aside I DON'T THINK HES DONE FANTASY??? Like correct me if I'm wrong but I believe its mostly sci-fi, superheroes and stuff.

I know I'll enjoy it regardless, trashy movies are my jam. But if we want more it can't flop like 1993 mario(love that movie) and thats the bit thats got me nervous.

I'm gonna anxiously hold out hope solely becuase the tweet opened up with "This is Miyamoto." Just DON'T do BOTW/TOTK. I know you want to pick the cash cow Nintendo, but video game movies are WAY more likely to flop if you pick the one where everyone would rather just play the game. The bigger the fanbase the worse the odds get, so I am begging you not to come out of the gates with an adaptation of the ones where everyone and their mother has played it.

[rileylastname]

extreme sensitivity and difficulty adapting to change is one of the most challenging parts of being autistic (to me, i am only speaking my for myself here, every single autistic person is different). small changes, even positive changes are liable to cause a meltdown. the world is such a scary place when you know that things changing, as all things do, could send you into a spiral. and it’s so difficult to explain to allistics why we’re reacting the way that we do, especially when you know it seems like an overreaction... but this is how i describe it:

you know that feeling when you got a haircut that you hated and were doing everything you could to hold back the tears? that “oh no oh no oh no” moment when you look in the mirror and realize you hate how it looks, and now there’s a sob bubbling up in your throat and you’re trying so hard to choke it back down so that you don’t cry in public but the more you look the harder it feels to bottle it all in?

i feel and often react that way to everyday situations and changes. i cut my nails a little bit shorter than I’m used to? meltdown. or we got a new toaster to replace the old one? meltdown. or my phone updated and everything is different? meltdown and now i can’t stop crying! (these are all real examples of real things from my real life that caused me to have real meltdowns btw.) and in the midst of my stress i can’t help but berate myself for losing it over something like that, and of course shame and self-loathing only exacerbate the meltdown.

i am constantly trying to work through my internalized ableism about this. I spent years being called dramatic and immature, confused about why i was unable to grapple with things my peers found entirely inconsequential. i wish that i didn’t feel guilty or embarrassed about the way that i naturally react to stressful situations (especially situations that are probably not nearly all that stressful to allistics) because I know that if I could hate myself into becoming someone I liked better, it would have worked by now.

[query-quadrant]

I've had a pitch crush on someone for a while! I really hate them! >:)

But one of our hatefriends just told me they might be pale for me? >:O

If they are, what do I do??? How do I make them hate me properly? :(

I don't pity them! I don't even know why they pity me! Or if they even really do! :?

It's really confusing and I don't want to have to reject them and then have to try and ask them out! That's not gonna go well!!! >:(

yeah i dont know that sounds awful i think personally id just die

questionable advice: either try upping the annoyingness and going all out with pitch flirting or just sit them down and just actually ask them if they pity you or not maybe youll get lucky and they dont but either way at least youll know right so that sucks a little less than not knowing

bad advice: kill their lusus maybe thatll make them really mad at you

[applestorms]

doom, aspect complements, & oppressing social systems

some kinda half-baked (literal) shower thoughts on aspect complements, particularly life & doom, with, surprisingly, not too much on the captors but a decent section on jane. this is long as fuck, shit.

TL;DR: aspect complements are nice in how they expand the meaning of each individual aspect, doom & life in particular are cool in how they have such overarching influence over the lives of characters and should really get more attention analysis-wise, ft. my own musings about how the alpha kids' lives are seeped in doom, in large part because of madame HIC herself. written in one sitting because i guess i'm insane.

the one thing i really, really like about the canon established by the extended zodiac is the way it splits aspects into complementary pairs. to me, one of the major appeals/frustrations of homestuck's classpect & lunar sway system is how vague and yet distinct the categories are, how blurry the borders are but how distinct of an Feel you can get almost instantly upon even just hearing the names of each aspect. e.g. i can say that [x] character from an entirely separate piece of media is a prince of doom, and even if you don't know jack shit about homestuck classpects on some level you can still get that, understand the implications that has on the character-- what "prince" means for how they treat others or the expectations they have for themself, the specific emotional connotations of what a person presiding over "doom" might be associated with. they play into long-established cultural categories, basically, remixed Jungian archetypes as some people might (and have) put it. still, i think homestuck has a pretty interesting way of interpreting these categories, which is part of why classpects can be so appealing.

homestuck aspects hold a lot of implicit associations that you can learn & guess at over the course of reading the comic, so setting up these complementary pairs works really well in my mind since it only strengthens the associations. take light & void, for example: light is associated thematically with knowledge, luck, and being in the spotlight. typically (at least in my own american context), the opposite of light is designated as dark-- but homestuck instead makes light's complement void, the aspect associated with nothingness, secrets, people & characters forgotten or left behind, waiting. following the logic of this video, void isn't even associated w/ the color black (typically associated w/ darkness) but rather the color white, pure emptiness, something that can't really be known, 道可道，非常道。名可名，非常名。"The Dao that can be trodden is not the enduring and unchanging Dao. The name that can be named is not the enduring and unchanging name," (Daodejing, Legge translation) or, alternatively, "A Way that can be followed is not a constant Way. A name that can be named is not a constant name," (Ivanhoe translation) and so on and so forth. light in homestuck thus isn't just knowledge about the world, it is the world. it is, period. understanding the world, being a major player within that world is equivocated with being itself though this pairing-- and, in turn, a lack of understanding is associated w/ a lack of (meaningful? seen?) existence itself.

anyways, there are interesting things you could said about all these pairings (thinking about blood & breath and hope & rage in particular), but the one i really wanna focus on right now is one set that i think often goes overlooked, which sucks because i think both aspects carry a lot more weight in homestuck than people tend to give it credit for: life & doom.

life is the side to this i have less strong feelings/thoughts about, so let's maybe start with that. we have a handful of pretty relevant life players in comic so this is perhaps the clearer side of the dichotomy: while feferi doesn't get a ton of focus after her original introduction in hivebent (and especially after murderstuck, rip), jane, meenah, and the condesce are all pretty major characters so we have a decent amount to work with for analysis. i particularly like the classpect-navalgazing summary of life as an, "aspect of affluence," life players being people that grow up with a lot materially but in turn have a lot to figure out about the emotional/empathy stuff, who benefit from a kind of "dubious privilege," that makes their homelife cushy and gives them a hefty inheritance to fall back on, but makes all the social shit more confusing.

it's that struggle against the status quo that they simultaneously benefit from that really stands out to me here, especially because the main life player that i want to talk about is the condesce-- not just meenah, but )(er Imperious Condescension herself. so, to get into that...

homestuck really functions under a systems brain, which is obvious from the start w/ all the computer science jokes (that i definitely 100% understand) but easily expands past that as the series goes on. if you've gotten this far into reading this essay, you know what i'm talking about. what's been more relevant in my mind recently, though, is not just the ways in which homestuck itself is built up through these systems, but the way it both thematically & literally portrays social systems as well, as a general concept/working force in the universe even outside of more specific social systems like racism/sexism/ableism/etc.

from all the reading/watching i've done looking at peoples' various classpecting analysis (long way of saying i forget exactly where this comes from), i've come to view rage & doom as two sides of the same coin, or more accurately, two reactions to the same perceptions: both doom & rage are acutely aware of just how much the world & greater forces around them are fucking them over, it's just that doom reacts by giving in to the Inevitability of it all, trying to work within the restraints of the system surrounding them, while rage reacts by giving a giant fuck you and trying to tear it all down.

tying this back to life, the dichotomy of life & doom as complementary again has some interesting implications, specifically in how life players benefit from the status quo while doom players suffer so heavily under the weight of it. keep in mind: just like meenah, the condesce is a thief, the only real difference being that the condesce's power extends over a much grander scale of space & time. when the condesce kills off humanity, stealing life from the planet & replacing it w/ her own faux/more desirable replicas, she is in the process dooming humanity & the planet itself (parallel to roxy: steal void, create being, steal life, create nihilistic inevitability). as one of the major villains in homestuck, really second only to lord english, the condesce is thus not just an individual person but something like a system of power itself. as dirk says to jake on (A6A3:4864)

TT: Though the Baroness made very few substantive gestures of aggression, the global fear of her looming threat would trigger all the changes she needed. TT: Governments prepared for war, as if to defend against the invading alien armies she undoubtedly commanded. TT: But of course, she had no army. She was always the only one of her kind. TT: Instead, the world powers were only setting about to build her armies for her.

thus HIC, as the most powerful iteration of meenah that we see in comic, both benefits from the status quo as it is already established and has enough power to evolve/expand upon it herself, to the point where you can really see her as the figurehead/leading innovator for oppression, both on alternia and earth in the B2 timeline.

it's because of this that i think doom has a lot more influence over the plot/world of homestuck than people give it credit for. to give a more distinct example of this, while the alpha kids' game is called a void session, i don't think it's too far off base to note the ways in which doom hangs over it as well. looking specifically at some (alpha) kids:

DIRK is probably the least directly connected alpha kid to doom, being associated more w/ void through homestuck's systems brain & his various connections to equius (& nepeta), as well as the heart/mind pairing (and jake's hope influence sneaking into everything tbh w/ BGD). still, i think it's pretty obvious to anyone that's like. read through dirk's self-hating bullshit that he has a lot of doom-related thoughts, which can in part be attributed to HIC's influence on his apocalypse world, but also, and more notably in my mind, dave's lasting legacy on him.

alongside the typical patron troll pairings of john/vriska, rose/kanaya, dave/terezi, and jade/karkat for the beta kids, we also have the (less overt/clear) pairings of which troll resembles each kid the most: namely, karkat being the "john" of the trolls, leader-ship/social position-wise, jade being associated with both nepeta & feferi, and rose... being like kanaya, vriska, and terezi, i guess?? it's less clear for the girls i suppose, and perhaps not a super strong connection in general as the trolls are pretty distinctly themselves separate from the human kids, but the important detail here is the connection between sollux & dave, as the (not at all) "cool kids" and primary besties to the main leader of their respective group. visually, they can also be loosely associated through their trademark glasses, sollux's red and blue lenses being connected to the A & B universes of the trolls & humans respectively and dave's stiller shades being connected to paradox space & the greater universe of homestuck (and problem sleuth) as a whole after passing through a black hole.

dave's biggest connection to doom however is in his connection to doomed timelines and the dead daves all of his timeline-hopping shenanigans lead to. he kind of ends up constantly skirting around the edges of doom, in a way, utilizing terezi's seer of mind help to just barely avoid his own inevitable doom. you could almost define time itself as an aspect along those terms, actually, with the stress time players are constantly under coming from the impending doom hanging over their heads that they're always just barely avoiding, like a satellite constantly falling and missing the planet as gravity pulls it along into orbit. sick imagery regardless.

sidenote: perhaps i've been staring at this dumb aspect circle for too long, but it seems notable enough to mention that doom & time connect in a line that is directly parallel to life & space's connection. ALSO, just now remembering that i wrote an entire essay on space & time and those aspects' connection to life & death (the concepts, not just the aspects) way back in like, february, that i almost entirely forgot about until literally just now. guess i'll try editing that later?? (edit: i'm a doofus. i talked about the space/time stuff mostly in my kant essay. still gonna post something about death in homestuck later, though.) carrying on.

anyways, even looking past beta dave's connection to sollux, alpha dave is a character so seeped in tragedy that i don't think i even need to say all that much to make this connection clearer. his entire life as dirk dictates it is essentially just one big fight against an inevitable end, not only for himself but the entire rest of humanity as well, and the underlying implications that even if he had lived to old age he never would've been able to meet or raise dirk only hammers this in even harder. alpha dave was doomed from the start, not just from the moment HIC landed on earth but the moment skaia took his and dirk's baby meteors and damned them to separation.

JAKE's connection to doom is similarly primarily through sollux, though it's both more direct and less obvious than dirk's. putting his connections to jade and my space/life thoughts aside for another essay, jake's main link to doom is through erisolsprite-- fittingly, in the biggest catastrophe of a doomed timeline, in game over.

the mention of erisol in general actually brings up another weird, not-quite complementary connection between doom & hope, which is another line of connection in the rectangle that is hope/rage/life/doom-- notably, i believe optimistic duelist referred to these as the mutable aspects, the most abstract of the twelve. to bring back my point from earlier, i would also say that these are the aspects with the most far-reaching, powerful influence over homestuck, whether that be in-story in the world, through the systems of power and oppression that characters live under (in the case of doom & life), or on a meta level on the story itself, particularly when it comes to what is or isn't allowed to happen/plot contrivances & coherency, etc. (in the case of rage & hope).

sollux & eridan's dynamic in A5 really establishes doom & hope as two opposing viewpoints, complacency & utter surrender in the face of a horrible fate you can never escape versus faith & imagination to the point of fucking lunacy & calling a magic wand a "science stick". in erisolsprite, it's really the doom that comes through the strongest, perhaps in contrast against jake's own pitiful attempts to hope himself through the in-game social awkwardness he wants to pretend doesn't exist. in parallel to fefetasprite's complete silence (but simultaneously, implied perfect support & friendship), erisolsprite is an asshole that can't stand anyone and especially not himself and has completely given up on any remaining semblance of hope-- kind of a thematically nice conclusion, actually, finding the middle ground of sollux's doom & eridan's princely destruction of hope after all their conflicts from earlier in the story. or it could be, if it weren't so fucking miserable to look at. point is, i think jake's hopelessness (or perhaps more accurately, his inability to access hope) later in the story becomes quite synonymous with doom, similar to dirk in how neither of them can see much of a future.

ROXY is actually probably the least doom-ridden of the entire group, which i suspect may come from the fact that she is herself a void player and thus is more at home in the context of a void session, even if all her friends are being shitheads the entire time. really, the points where roxy is the most bitter & doom-ridden occurs before they even enter the game, when she is still under the strongest influence of the condesce, like how roxy continually pushes back on even starting the game at all just as a fuck you to HIC.

fittingly, i think it's actually the absence of doom that makes roxy such a strong & great friend once she gets her shit together in-session. she kind of has an opposite arc to the rest of the alpha kids, starting off completely doom-ridden thinking that she's never going to meet her mom or her friends and constantly paranoid that HIC is going to fuck everything up, only to re-evaluate once she's physically with her buds and have more faith in the future. a good example of how life & doom are connected to social systems (or not just any specific system of bigotry, but moreso the general feeling of having greater powers outside your control that have a major influence on your life) maybe-- roxy must extricate herself as entirely as possible from the status quo, from world-wide and/or world-influencing figures' expectations, before she can start focusing on and figuring out what really matters to her and pursue those goals, e.g. getting sober.

and of course, our beloved life player, JANE. as a life player, jane's connections to doom are a lot more obvious than the previous three, but i think that only strengthens this idea of doom residing over the alpha kids' session (and homestuck as a whole, really). where you have to look more to the generally miserable, nihilistic sentiments of the other kids to see the influence of doom, jane is literally and regularly brainwashed to the values & ideals of HIC. note some of the specific orders that her tiaratop gives her (A6A1:4153):

You put on your highly fashionable UNREAL HEIRESS THOUGHTWAVE TIARATOP and flip it on. It immediately hums to life as its blazing fast processes mingle with your thoughts. It is the most efficient computing technology in the world by far, as long as you don't wear it for too long. But aside from a few migraines, you can't possibly imagine any OBEY drawbacks that CEASE REPRODUCTION could come with SUBMIT merging CONSUME your thoughts with EMBRACE YOUR CULLING experimental technology CONFORM TO SOCIAL ORDER from an STAY ASLEEP extremely powerful DIE corporation, wait what?

or, one by one, categorized loosely:

OBEY, SUBMIT, CONFORM TO SOCIAL ORDER, STAY ASLEEP: obvious implications, again ties to the idea of doom & life dictating overarching social systems/order. the last one is notable in that it also ties jane to jade's narcolepsy, which fits the whole crockertier/grimbark arc that happens later on when those two meet.

CEASE REPRODUCTION: perhaps more HIC specific, in that she hates human reproduction. i think i might address this more in that time/space essay, if i ever get around to editing/finishing that.

EMBRACE YOUR CULLING, DIE: the "DIE" part of this is pretty on the nose w/ HIC's stealing of life aka eradication of humanity, but the "EMBRACE" part of the culling one really solidifies a connection to doom.

what stands out to me is that it is unclear how much of these subliminal teachings jane is meant to internalize & apply to herself personally versus spread & share & execute in her job as an heiress & tool to HIC. it's clear from the way that jane talks to jake in the jail cell that even while in full-crockertier mode she at least in part goes against some of these teachings, telling jake on (A6A6I1:6443):

JANE: You do remember our recent agreement to have "a zillion babies," don't you, Jake? I do hope you were not planning to renege on this vow. JAKE: *Sob sob sob...* JANE: Our children will rule the empire when we are gone, which of course will be never, because we will be eternally young and beautiful and immortal and in love, for ever and ever.

clearly conflicting with the whole "CEASE REPRODUCTION" thing, though she does admittedly treat him with quite a bit of disgust at the same time that she's telling him he's doomed to be a baby making machine or whatever.

point is, as a life player, and especially as a life player under the direct influence & control of HIC, jane is in that conflicting & confusing position talked about earlier, where she simultaneously benefits from privilege & has extensive control in deciding which standards she wants to, as well as extends those expectations onto the people around her (e.g. for a more minor example, think of how she dictates the grammar of her friends when speaking to them online), but is also stuck in a position where she deals with some of the most significant negative side-effects of such standards.

jane's gender fuckery really sums this up best: she both loves & idolizes gumshoes and the traditionally masculine aesthetics and attitudes that come w/ them, but is also in one of the most obsessively feminine, stay-at-home, stuck-in-the-kitchen 1950s housewife archetypes ever. she's a girlboss heiress to a capitalist, corporate empire, a job that is itself very traditionally masculine in the inherent power it holds, but resides over one of the most traditionally feminine spheres it possibly could. jane is made of life, she was born into and built out of the status quo & social standards of the world she landed on and reaps all the benefits & consequences of such, trapped in a system that protected her, in her house by a father that loves her, and constantly keeps trying to break out even if she doesn't even understand the full magnitude of what she's doing or wants. crockertier jane is really just the epitome of this-- a form that dooms her just as much as it benefits her, wealth that cushions her ass and means absolutely nothing, a title that she cannot be extricated from, for better and for worse.

[northern-passage]

hello! read the wlw vampire story you recommended and I loved it and was then surprised to see it was written by the author of The Hacienda, which I didn't enjoy. I was wondering if you read it? It has been pretty popular on booktube!

no i haven't! i actually had never heard of her at all, which did surprise me when i looked her up and saw she had published a book. and i very much did get the vibe that it was the kind of book that would be popular on booktube (not in a negative way like. it's just a Vibe, you can tell) so i was surprised that i had never heard of her because i do love booktube reviews lol

when i found that story i was just in the Mood for vampires (it's what i've been writing for like the last month now) and had literally just searched vampires on that website and was reading a bunch of the short stories, and that one just happened to be the best one, imo. and then i briefly looked her up before recommending it just because i like to do a vibe check before i recommend someone, hahaha

[tag-that-oc]

I'd love to hear about the mod's ocs too one day!

boy am I so glad you asked. I've prepared an infodump about my special little guy. my "main" blorbo, if you will. Dawson my beloved ;w;

warning on the document for. blood, fucked up experiments, murder, kidnapping, torture, floating eyes, other acts of violence. hopefully I'm not missing anything but overall it is fucked up.

I also decided to include his pinterest board and playlist

also, the other mod is preparing to talk about his oc as well!

I hope you enjoy the scrungly

[akkivee]

happy new year!!!!!🎆🎇

pick up a fortune from kuugen temple!!! drop a reply/ask with a 🪙 and a topic you wanna know about (e.g. school, love, general, etc) and see how your luck will be!!!

[01tsubomi]

hi!! if you dont mind me asking, how did you manage to end up teaching in japan?? ive been researching but info online is so extense and overwhelming and i never have good answers....

hello!! first of all i wanna say i understand the stress - i applied to j/et first and was going to work on backups like int/erac and private hiring if that didn't work out and i'm always thankful that i didn't have to. honestly now that i'm here it feels funny that i stressed out so much during the application process bc i always find myself thinking "damn they'll let anyone in" (often about myself lmao). it can be really odd and unexplainable who j/et does and doesn't take but japan needs a lot of ALTs to keep the system going so if you've got the enthusiasm for it there's definitely a place for you!!

i would definitely recommend trying for j/et and int/erac first before worrying about the other options!! since j/et has the biggest reputation ofc there's the double-edged sword of it feeling the most prestigious and hard to get into but again they do hire a ton of candidates every year, plus it has the highest guaranteed pay and takes care of so much for you pre-departure. idk where you're at in life/when you'd plan on applying but if you wanna start the job as soon as possible, int/erac has pretty much a rolling application and their main recruiting cycle is for spring departures (while j/et won't start recruiting again til october, for departure in summer 2025). int/erac gives you a little less pay and a little less initial help, but it's still very reputable. int/erac ALTs also have a few more freedoms once you're in japan bc i believe int/erac has your school hire you directly intead of employing you to your city's board of education. so for example my BoO doesn't let ALTs commute by car, but int/erac ALTs and private hires don't have that restriction. knock on wood, if neither of those work out, there are lots of sites like gaijinpot posting private hire opportunities. i don't know about the competitiveness of those and they do often require you to sort out visa application or housing on your own, but opportunity is always out there! seriously though i wouldn't worry about that at first. that's the backup plan ace up your sleeve

in terms of what you can do to raise your chances of getting hired, again, i think the enthusiasm is the key!! people say the j/et interview is a glorified vibe check bc they've been known to reject people who sometimes seem overqualified for the position (maybe for good reason - the amount of responsibility you get and teaching you get to do is suuuuper variable and dependent on your school, and probably about ~1/3 of my work days every year i have no classes and little relevant work to do, if any). i don't have a background or certification in teaching but i did a lot of tutoring in college and minored in japanese so i had a lot to say about my passion for language education. i know j/et really loves the angle of "what will you get out of the position, and what will you give back" - i can tell you're excited about the idea of teaching in japan so i'm sure you already have your answers!! if you have hobbies related to japan it's good to explain how being in japan would help you continue them. or you can always research what you could do with your non-japan related hobbies in japan! i love cooking and i started taking classes at a chain studio that does a mix of japanese and worldwide cooking. again i know the hit-or-miss element of it is scary but really they just want friendly open-minded people who can share their culture, have enthusiasm about education and exchange, don't mind the hours/job restrictions, and are down to pack their bags and live in japan. if you have any other questions please ask!! i know this is random but i've helped a couple of friends with their applications so if you do want some extra eyes on a statement of purpose my inbox is always open!! cheering for you!! 🎉🎉

[totallyblooktacular]

Heh, thank the old Spider Riders blog for that haha. Not a lot of folks remember the, even up here in Canada, where we dubbed it and aired it constantly; though everyone remembers the old game, which people are trying to revive. I've been revamping my own fic on AO3 for a while now, and I think I'm the only person currently writing new content for the show both there and on FFNet lol.

some of this feels a little vague so im worried im not thinking of the same things youre actually referencing, but i still definitely agree.

its a shame not very many people made their own dedicated blogs for it here (i only know like 2 ?) but theyre definitely very helpful for general access to content (official and otherwise), especially when pretty much anything of substance about it is so obscure, so i would say i do owe a lot to at least the one that was kept up here until.. i think just right after i started getting more into it myself, coincidentally enough lol

nice to be able to hear from a fic writer too though!! and that ur still kicking, as well. i havent read a majority of the ones out there, but i’ve been trying to stay pretty on top of some more recent ones being updated, so i think ive been reading it too, good job there!

[professionalbalbberer]

Sometimes when I’m rambling to someone about something I physically need to get out of my system, but I’m embarrassed about it & don’t actually want them to know about my thoughts, I talk so quickly they don’t know what I’m saying.

[irndad]

won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man. 

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one. 

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk. 

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership. 

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you. 

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself. 

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning. 

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks. 

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection. 

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone. 

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation. 

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically. 

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this. 

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting. 

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride. 

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth. 

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips. 

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic. 

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?) 

[espinosaurusrexex]

Watchful Eyes

CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU

read Bucky's story here

summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.

a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)

word count: 10.8k

warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

“Can you start Monday?”

“I can start Monday.”

“Perfect.”

Holy fuckidy fuck fuck. 

You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.  

It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things. 

There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home. 

The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.  

The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did. 

The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away. 

You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you. 

“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. 

Holy Shit. 

Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer. 

Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.

“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”

Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.

“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare. 

“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.

“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.

“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you. 

Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.

The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it. 

You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner. 

“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve. 

“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.

“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”

His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement. 

“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”

“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.

Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”

Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” 

“Sure.”

“I’m serious, Buck.”

“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again. 

Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen. 

As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.” 

“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar. 

Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid. 

“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.

“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table. 

“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City. 

It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted. 

Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat. 

“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.” 

“Just shut up, punk.”

“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.” 

Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible. 

But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends. 

He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction. 

“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”

“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them. 

“You aren’t serious.” 

“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup. 

“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.” 

“You’re rich, too, Sam.” 

Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.

“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.” 

Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.” 

Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now. 

“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked. 

And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great. 

By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.

You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.  

Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite. 

With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule. 

You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ‘not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do. 

You knew better though. 

People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible. 

Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.

Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so. 

So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work. 

Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home. 

Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.

He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him. 

The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right. 

Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary. 

It was worrisome. 

He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him. 

He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.

You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet. 

“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.” 

Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“

“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?” 

Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock. 

“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little. 

“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore. 

You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way. 

He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward. 

“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.” 

His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”

He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall. 

After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through. 

Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back. 

The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions. 

He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty. 

The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet. 

You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit. 

“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise. 

“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that. 

“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage. 

But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”

“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.” 

You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him. 

“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude. 

“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.” 

“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.

You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long. 

“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”

“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you. 

“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips. 

“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”

“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent. 

“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”

Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler. 

“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”

“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard. 

“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool. 

“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy. 

This was definitely new.

❁ ❁ ❁

The next week was pure torture. 

Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you. 

It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there. 

Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.

It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before. 

“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there. 

Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off. 

The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was. 

Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell. 

His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants. 

He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants. 

“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip. 

His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video. 

Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress. 

Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer. 

For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream. 

Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst. 

He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.  

Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises. 

“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”

“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”

“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”

“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker. 

“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying. 

“So...?”

“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”

“Yes, very.”

You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”

“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?

“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks. 

“I knew it!”

“Nat, I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter. 

You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated. 

Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again. 

Happy one month!

Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.

Happy one month.

You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.

You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing! 

“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed. 

“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet. 

“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.” 

Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.

With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work. 

It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office. 

Just like any other day...

❁ ❁ ❁

Boy, had you never been any more wrong. 

Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set. 

But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good. 

“Hello?”

“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.

“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”

“What? When?”

“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet. 

“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end. 

“Amazing! Thank you so much.”

She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk. 

You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.

❁ ❁ ❁

8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island. 

Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on. 

“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were. 

To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top. 

“You forgot your flowers.”

“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too. 

“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”

His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say. 

“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now. 

“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”

“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near. 

“Can I trust you?”

His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”

“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch. 

Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display. 

You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?

His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face. 

So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well. 

Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours. 

Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently. 

Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace. 

No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air. 

Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his. 

“You’re very good at this.”

He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing. 

“What are you doing?”

“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.” 

Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine. 

“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient. 

“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.” 

You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”

“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them. 

You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”

His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core. 

“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world. 

“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.” 

In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.” 

“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.” 

“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind. 

“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out. 

“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”

“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything. 

You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?

“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”

“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you. 

His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure. 

He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”

“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”

He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs. 

You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him. 

“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”

“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm. 

“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”

“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”

You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating. 

“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again. 

“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”

His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder. 

“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.

“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”

“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach. 

“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”

“I don’t know if I-“

“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind. 

“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”

“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer. 

“Wait. Almost there.”

“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest. 

Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you. 

“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”

And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.

He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him. 

A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure. 

But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone. 

“Good morning, Sharon.” 

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”

“What? Until when?”

“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”

“Do you know what she has?”

“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”

Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head. 

“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away. 

“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant. 

“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as. 

Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker. 

“Hello?”

Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful. 

“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?

“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning. 

“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?

“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”

You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you.”

And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.

So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts. 

First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m. 

It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.

His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything. 

The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud. 

Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was. 

You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly. 

His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom. 

He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard. 

“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated. 

“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off. 

“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.

You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.

Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.

Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by. 

You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead. 

In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.

Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–

*smack*

His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin. 

“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”

“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt. 

It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra. 

“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”

He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”

You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you. 

“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”

Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them. 

“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat. 

He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”

“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right. 

He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.” 

He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. “Please say something, Bambi.”

“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist. 

Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”

He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much. 

His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you. 

The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation. 

Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.

I couldn't decide which GIF to use, so here are some extras!

If you’ve read this far, I would be so happy to receive a comment or reblog. It helps writers reach more people in the community and also improve themselves. So, if you have the time, please consider giving me some feedback :) until next time ~Meg 💞

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[yuulettte]

"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫?!"

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✧ദ്ദി( ˶^ᗜ^˶ )

✰ Tags: gn!reader x various JJK men, fluff, reader has a cold oh NOOOO!!, sfw, just sugary sweet

✰Characters: Gojo, Yuta, Yuji, Geto, Megumi, Nanami

✰ A/N: I tested positive for covid so I decided to be self indulgent.. First time writing hcs for most of these boys ( ´ ▽ ` ) I apologize in advance

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You tell him not to come near you out of habit, but he reminds you about his limitless technique! Can germs touch him? Who knows~

Long movie watching sessions, he'll buy you whatever you want to eat. Shoko told him to make sure you're hydrated, so he might force you to drink. Good luck!

Still manages to make you laugh with his antics. He'll wave his hands over you, using that eccentric tone, "Get better~ get better~!" as if it'll magically heal you

One time you catch him reading articles online on how to take care of a sick partner. The expression on his face is that of pure focus

He eventually gets fed up and says something about how 'the strongest never gets sick!' And thus turns off his technique to cuddle with you. He catches your cold the next day LOL

Guess even the strongest isn't immune to flu season

𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐎𝐤𝐤𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐮 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Attentive in every way. Is absolutely unafraid of getting sick. He always ends up catching whatever bug you have because he takes care of you no matter what

Runs you warm baths. He'll help you wash, dry your hair, and get dressed.

Rubs your back if you're feeling unwell, even when you're not sick ( ´ ▽ ` )

"What do you need? I'll go get it for you. Is there a dish you'd like for me to cook?"

He's an insanely good care taker (no surprise)

Has a habit of buying you plushies whenever you get sick, so your bed is over taken by them after a few years of dating. It's an army.. Or so you call it!

Will give you that sad puppy look if you refuse to let him hold you, even if it's out of love. He just wants to make you feel better

Doesn't let anyone else enter the house unless it's your family, he's your boyfriend and so it's his responsibility to take care of you! (he's protective)

𝐘𝐮𝐣𝐢 𝐈𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Will show up at your place with a bag full of medicine and goodies

Also doesn't care about catching whatever you have.

"I've got a super good immune system, so it's no problem!"

It's true too, what takes you a week to get over he'll tank in two days. It's actually kinda scary

He'll do whatever he can to make you laugh. And if you can't, then he'll comfort you

You'll have video game tournaments in your bed, and by the end he's always curled around you like a guard dog. The both of you fall asleep like that often

He'll wipe the sweat from your forehead and give you a cooling pad when you wake up as an apology :'D

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

He's not very good with germs, so he might keep his distance if you have a nasty virus

He still really cares! Just may approach you with a mask and some anti bacterial

Lots of praise. Reminds you that it'll be okay, you'll feel better soon and he'll make sure of it

"You'll feel better soon my love, don't worry. Just drink this,"

He'll sooth you with his voice to help you fall asleep.

Like Satoru, he'll ask Shoko for advice on how to care for you. He takes to it more naturally, though. It's the dad vibes! Care taking is in his DNA

You find yourself getting sick way less often when spending tons of time with him. He just has that sort of aura?

𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Not the most emotionally attentive, but he'll come over and bring magazines/books for you to read and some medicine

Will sit with you in silence. He doesn't want you to hurt your throat from forcing yourself to talk

If you'd like, he'll summon his shadow dogs for you to cuddle with. He'd do it himself but he doesn't want you to feel sweaty

He's surprisingly strict about what you eat. It has to be homemade and full of nutrients

He cooks recipes that Tsumiki taught him for you ✧ദ്ദി( ˶^ᗜ^˶ ) they're delicious!

Even if he doesn't show it outwardly, he's honestly extremely worried. He wants you to get better as soon as possible!

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

He takes time off work, you're his number one priority. He WILL be the one nursing you back to health

Husband material. He knows all of your favorite sick foods and most effective medications

Firm about you getting rest. "Please, allow me honey," and it's you literally reaching for a cup of water

He cooks meals that are easy on your stomach. Took the time to educate himself on what vitamins to give you

Will likely also catch your sicky, but he honestly doesn't mind because that means more time off with you.

The two of you will be wrapped around each other in bed while he reads to you, both with wet towels on your foreheads <3

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[byuno-o]

RANDOM ASTRO OBSERVATIONS I'VE OBSERVED.

NOTE: THESE ARE BASED ON PERSONAL ANECDOTES; HENCE, MIGHT NOT BE APPLICABLE FOR EVERYONE

Pisces and Sagittarius people are not always lucky as they say. They go through the most problematic, heart-shattering events which test their ability to remain optimistic. It's like Jupiter makes them go through tough times before bestowing them with good luck.

However, for Sag and pisces rising, things are different. Jupiter might actually bestow them with good luck for a long period of time, only for them to go through tough times later. (Seen it with my own eyes.)

Capricorn sun and moon people are as social as Gemini and Libra can be. It's like they actively look for company so they don't end up with their thoughts alone.

Aries men--the unevolved ones, are overbearing to a fault. Sometimes when they try to help, they actually come off as assholes and just plain rude.

Leo moons are actually pretty shy and introverted. It's only after a few meetings do they get comfortable.

While I've read that Aquarius people are aloof and detached, that might not always be the case. I have seven friends with Aquarius sun, moon, mercury, rising and venus, and they are the most clingy people I've ever met. Some even ended up sabotaging their relationships and friendships because of their clinginess.

However, being the sister sign of Leo, they have to go through this phase in order to see the bigger picture and see humanity as a whole and not just one person. It's only after losing people do they realise their purpose, which is standing out and set trends.

I think the intuition and spiritual senses of fire signs are often overlooked. They are often guided by their intuitions, especially Leo.

I might be biased on this but, I have always share the same kind of humour with people with the same sun sign as me which is sag. Tell me if you relate. :)

Do not underestimate gemini when it comes to holding grudges. They remember everything and will hurt you where it hurts the most.

While, I'm at it, I think cancer's sharp tongue does not get much appreciation. The ones I've met either hit you with the hurtful words right onto your face with a smile, or they say hurtful things behind your back. The influence they can have on people is something I really admire.

Scorpio moons are more mature than scorpio suns. Idk, I just never met a mature scorpio sun but I have two friends with scorpio moon who are wise beyond their years.

Libra women, for some reason, lack confidence when it comes to their creativity, and face problems putting their art out. it's just something I've noticed since some women I know (who are libras) never tell their ideas to anyone out loud.

Nonetheless, their allure can only be rivalled by a Taurus or a Leo.

That is it for today. do let me know what you think about my observations. Let's have a discussion.