#To care about my own issues .and like my problems weren’t as big as hers so yeah maybe it was selfish of me to ask her to also carry my

[redrosesandcharmingsouls]

Months ago I was so happy to hang out with this friend of mine and now we’re not even friends anymore

[ynscrazylife]

Eek! Yay!

So since I'm just a few episodes ahead I'm just going to keep it kind of vague. What do you think of a younger sister whose just a little younger than Sam? Dean practically raising her and so they're super close but when Sam leaves for college their dad decides that maybe the hunter life isn't the best for his daughter so he leaves her behind with a family friend. Imagine the angst and abandonment issues (def not me) like after Dean picks up Sam he tracks down his younger sister he hasn't seen in like a year and she just never gave up hunting so now she's actually pretty good at it? Can you imagine how awkward that reunion would be?? Maybe they're hunting down a monster together or something??

Sorry, this isn't exactly a scenario so much as my own personal idea for a backstory? I don't know but if you like it or you want something else let me know cause there's tons more that are similar or completely different from this one 😏

Great minds think alike cause I kinda had an idea in mind where Dean and Sam meet up with their sister through a hunt! This is a little different than what you put in the ask tho, so I hope that’s alright. I also feel like there is enough for a part 2 so I could end up adding to this! And this would be a fun OC concept to make 👀 if anyone wants that.

a reunion for the ages (dean & sam winchester x sister!reader)

The thing that makes this entire situation, what your life has become, so backwards and twisted is that at first, you didn’t actually want to hunt. You wanted to go to college, like Sam. You weren’t even that much younger than him and in his first year, he seemed to love it. But when your time rolled around, you didn’t get into Stanford.

Yes, there were other colleges that accepted you, but you really wanted to be with your big brother. The rejection hit you hard and as a result (and needing a distraction), you threw yourself into hunting. You became careless and reckless and instead of talking with you about it, your dad made a decision for you: that you weren’t cut out for hunting. He left you and took Dean with him.

When Dean realized what was going on, he of course tried to stop his dad. They got into a pretty bad fight over it. But he was a stubborn man and he refused to go back for you. Dean tried calling you, but thinking that he was in on it with Dad, you refused to pick up. You kept in touch with Sam for a little while, but the both of you got busy as time went on, and the weekly calls stopped.

A few years later, Dean and Sam have hit the road, intent on finding Dad. The backseat of the Impala, which was usually occupied by you, is empty.

“I thought if I gave you some time you might bring it up yourself, but dude, are we picking up Y/N or not?” Sam asks finally, no longer wanting to beat around the bush about it. He knows about Dad and Dean leaving you behind, but assumes that at some point you would’ve made up with them.

“She shouldn’t be involved in this,” Dean says resolutely, keeping his eye on the road ahead, firmly gripping the steering wheel.

“You had no problem involving me in this,” Sam points out, trying not to sound upset over it. There was a small part of him that wonders if he hadn’t gone with Dean, would he’ve been able to save Jess? Still, he knows that he went willingly, and that he could’ve said no.

“You know how to hunt and fight. The last time I saw Y/N hunt . . . Trust me, it didn’t go well,” Dean mutters, definitely not in the mood to have this conversation.

“Shouldn’t we at least let her know what’s going on with Dad?” Sam suggests, now more curious about what happened between you and Dean and Dad. You never gave many details about it.

“Have at it, if she’ll pick up,” Dean says, throwing one hand in the air. He’s trying to play it off as if he doesn’t care, but he does. He misses you.

Sam tries but, as Dean predicted, you don’t answer. Over the next couple days, they get wrapped up into a case where they suspect an angry ghost is the perpetrator, going after the people that they blame for their death. Thankfully they’re able to find the object that the ghost is attached to, a music box. What they don’t expect, however, is to be dealing with a ghost possessing someone. It’s a chef, to be exact, which leads them to their current situation: fighting the possessed chef in his kitchen.

“Sam, a little help here?!” Dean yells, fist-fighting the enraged chef, who looks a little ridiculous in his white chef’s hat.

“I don’t have any iron! Or salt!” Sam yells back, rummaging through his bag in search of something, anything, that might help.

Suddenly, someone runs into the room from behind the guy and jumps on his back. It’s a woman, with a bat in her hand. As the guy stumbles back, she hits him in the head repeatedly, until the guy throws her off his back and onto the table. The woman smacks him again with the bat, then gets salt from out of her pocket, and throws it at him. The ghost is expelled from his body and he drops to the floor.

Dean and Sam exchange looks, wondering who the hell she is.

The ghost isn’t done yet, though. It lifts the woman into the air and lets her drop onto the table, which cracks. She falls onto the floor and the ghost lunges for her, disappearing and now possessing her. Dean and Sam prepare themselves for another fight, only to both freeze when the woman stands up and turns around.

It’s their sister. Their little sister, who’s meant to be enjoying a hunt-free life. There’s a gash on her forehead which is leaking blood down her face and within seconds, she’s lunging at Sam.

He falls back, not sure what to do. If this were anyone else being possessed, he’d fight back, but he doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Y/N, Y/N, c’mon!” He yells, doing his best to dodge your hits.

Dean runs around and grabs you in a bear-hug, pinning your arms to your sides. He drags you back, even as you thrash. “Get some salt, Sam!” He says, struggling to manage you.

“I told you, I don’t have any!” Sam repeats, frustrated.

“It’s a KITCHEN!” Dean practically screams.

While Sam looks for salt, you twist out of Dean’s arms. The two of you go at it but eventually, Dean’s able to get you down on the ground. He feels bad about pressing his knee on your abdomen, holding your arms down, but he has to keep you there.

“I found a salt shaker,” Sam says, kneeling down by your head. “We gotta destroy the music box, though, before the ghost possesses one of us.”

“Alright, do it, but give me the salt,” Dean says, moving your arms above your head and holding your wrists with one hand. With his other, he takes the salt and has to pry your jaw open to pour the salt in your mouth.

You cough and splutter, but Dean forces your mouth to close until you’ve swallowed the salt. Finally, the ghost leaves your body. Dean throws the salt shaker to Sam, who salts the music box before chucking it into the oven.

“Alright, Y/N, we gotta go,” Dean says, throwing one of your arms over his shoulders and pulling you to your feet.

All you can do is lean against him and mumble your brother’s name, your head spinning.

Sam grabs the chef and the four of you stumble out the back exit. Sam lays the chef on the ground and calls the fire department, then you guys make your getaway in Dean’s car.

“I’m staying with her,” Sam decides, sitting in the backseat with you while Dean starts to drive.

“Sam . . . Dean? What’re you doing here?” You ask as Sam tends to your head with the first aid kit that they keep in the car. You can hardly believe that you’re really with your brothers again.

“Could ask you the same question, kid. Sammy and I were hunting that ghost,” Dean says, speeding up a little to get to the motel faster.

“So was I,” you say. Your head feels far too heavy to hold up on your own right now so you let it lean against Sam’s shoulder.

“What?” The brothers ask in unison. They weren’t sure what answer they were expecting but it wasn’t that.

“Been hunting ever since you and Dad left, Dean,” you tell them. Even though you are in pain, you don’t miss the beat of silence that follows.

“You were pretty good back there,” Sam compliments, ruffling your hair a bit. With your head wound bandaged up, he slings his arm around you for the rest of the drive.

Dean is quiet, his fingers thumping against the steering wheel, until the three of you arrive at the motel. Sam helps you out and lays you down on his bed. “I’ll be right back, gonna get you an ice pack,” he says, going to the mini ridge.

Dean sits across from you on his own bed, sighing. “How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Like I got thrown onto a table . . . Oh wait, I did,” you answer sarcastically, mustering up a smile.

Sam returns, giving you the ice pack and then sitting next to Dean. He glances between his siblings, sensing some tension. “Do you two need to . . . Talk or something?” He asks.

“You’ve really been hunting this whole time?” Dean asks you, still in a bit of disbelief.

You nod. “I got my act together after Dad . . . After you and Dad left. I wanted to prove him wrong,” you explain, shrugging. “Where is he, anyway?”

Sam and Dean exchange a look. “We don’t know. We’ve been hunting and hoping to find him in the process,” Sam says.

You nod slowly. Your dad taking off isn’t that uncommon, but it is uncommon to see your brothers hunting together. “I’ll get out of your hair soon,” you mumble, not sure that they wanted you around.

“Woah, wait. There’s no rush. Sam was right, you were pretty good back there . . . We could use your help,” Dean says. He’s not going to let you go so easily this time around.

“Really?” You say, a little surprised. You sit up in bed, taking the ice pack off your forehead.

“Yes. And keep that on,” Dean says quickly, taking the ice pack from you and pressing it to your wound himself. He moves to sit down next to you, making you roll your eyes, but you don’t argue. It’s kinda nice to have him helping you out, he’s always been protective over you and Sam.

“The Three Musketeers, all back together again,” Sam jokes, just to annoy you both.

“Is it too late to back out now?” You ask.

“Yes,” the brothers say. You’re in too deep now, Dean and Sam aren’t letting you go again.

[veryace-ficrecs]

Steve Harrington with Head Trauma Fic Recs

one of my favorite Stranger Things tropes, here is a list of Steve having head trauma and/or suffering from migraines.

as always this list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own  discretion! :)

Misjudged Your Limits by kikisifi13 - Rated T

"According to Robin, the first signs that Steve was getting a migraine were the little things, things that would seem normal if they were coming from anyone else. Steve had walked into Family Video that morning fifteen minutes late, wearing sunglasses and clutching a thermos of coffee. And sure, it was summer. But the knowing glance that Robin shot Eddie told him this wasn’t that."

After being beaten up one too many times, Steve Harrington has some head trauma to show for it. This also means migraines, which he tries his best to avoid displaying. 3 months into dating Eddie Munson, that particular situation becomes unavoidable, and when Steve is forced to be vulnerable, Eddie doesn't know what the hell he's supposed to do. Cue Robin leading Eddie through Caring For Steve's Migraines: A Comprehensive Guide.

TW: headaches, nausea, vomiting

Odds and Ends by kikisifi13 - Rated T

The plan is this: Steve is supposed to take the kids to see the newest Star Trek movie this Friday. The problem is this: Steve is due for a migraine.

basically the kids thought his migraines weren't a big deal, and now they DEFINITELY do hehe well, with a little help from Eddie and Robin. and Max. she knows what's up.

So Let It Out And Let It In by fangirlandtheories - Rated T

"Steve and his Dad get into a fight so he instinctively seeks out Eddie, only realizing too late that he's in the middle of DnD night with the kids, forcing him to be vulnerable in front of them." Anon request from Tumblr. *** “Hey, Steve, you’re kinda freaking us out dude.” Mike was slowly rising from his seat as he watched Steve’s eyes start to flutter. “Why’s your voice sound like that?”

medicinal by peaktotheocean - Rated T

 “I’ve got a friend who is having a ton of migraine issues," Robin blurted out. Eddie's head rose to look at her. That was a new one. "We heard weed helps. Any truth to it?” She asked hopefully.

Uncle Wayne always used to joke that Eddie was too curious for his own good. Eddie just never thought he'd agree with the assessment while selling weed to Robin Buckley of all people.

Sticky Notes by voidpacifist - Rated M

"It's the only music I can hear," Steve answers honestly. Something soft passes over Eddie's face at the admission. It's not pity. Steve saw pity in the librarians eyes as he and Dustin and Robin checked out all those books on ASL. Steve knows what self righteous sympathy does to a person's face, and it isn't doing that to Eddie's. No, Eddie's expression is maybe closest to understanding.

-

Steve's hearing was already dwindling on the precipice of "not good" after his run-in with Billy Hargrove in 1984. Less than a year and one Russian interrogation later, he loses the totality of his hearing in his left ear, and most of it in his right. To help himself readjust to a world with minimal sound, he starts seeking noise in a way he never expected to — by attending Corroded Coffin's performances at the Hideout.

Eddie wants to know what the hell is up with "King Steve" suddenly showing up to his shows. His questioning doesn't go to plan, and instead he lands himself an unexpected new friend.

-

pre!S3 —> post!S4

 yesterdays shatter, tomorrows don't matter by yellowmarshmallow - Rated M

There were only so many times someone could hit you in the head before you got lasting problems. Steve found that the number was about three.

But now Robin and the kids insist he should look after himself, and with Eddie making it his mission to make sure he does, Steve isn't sure he's in a place to argue.

Maybe being loved isn't so bad.

Stuck in My Head by schrijverr - Rated T

Between Jonathan, Billy and the Russians, Steve’s brain has taken enough damage for it to be permanent. He tries to deal with it, but with the Upside Down coming back, he can’t keep doing it alone. So, he confides in Eddie, the most unlikely person, but the only one who doesn’t yet count on him to be strong. The secret gives them a bond that helps them grow closer together as Eddie has Steve’s back and shows him he’s worth something.

[glambyk]

I’m about half way through the kdrama Nevertheless… and Miss Na-bi kinda annoying me 😫. Now I completely understand her, and she is a real ass relatable character, but I’m ready to hop in the show and sit her down with some perspective and advice at this point.

That ex was EXTREME trash!!! From the power dynamic, gaslighting, control, humiliation, flat out emotional abuse. He can go to hell 🤷🏽‍♀️. He did a complete number on her mental/emotional state and self esteem. She seriously needed to focus on herself before all the things with Jae-eon.

Now, I don’t feel either of them are terrible people, since so far I can see each perspective (Na-bi’s more due to inner monologuing). She needed to listen to those tingling thoughts to back off Jae-eon because she was not ready to entertain him. He’s not the type of guy you entertain when you have fresh trauma. Anything anyone said about him, she took it as gospel and shaped who he was as a person off that. She also was simultaneously creating a fantasy in her head about him as well. I get immediate attraction, but she got way too invested from the first moment, then when she knew their ideas on relationships weren’t lining up, she needed to let it go.

As much as she accused Jae-eon of playing a game and not caring or being too casual… she was playing the game too. The situation was laid out in front of her and she proceeded to engage. She judged every comment he made, but also wasn’t being real with herself and communicating because she wanted to stay in her fantasy bubble. She didn’t want anyone to know they were close, but was upset when people caught on, and then was mad at him about other people’s comments. People were talking shit about him as well, but she glossed over that and deemed it acceptable, since she literally doesn’t consider him to have feelings. It comes off as Na-bi not seeing Jae-eon as his own person due to projecting a lot of her issues onto him and hanging on to everyone else’s opinions. There was no point in doing anything with him if she was going to obsessively work herself up over every little thing related to him.

Jae-eon gave immediate fuck boy vibes. He’s a big flirt and a general decent guy though, so he’s a more likable fboy type. His attraction to Na-bi’s looks and personality hooked him, so he ran his usual game, but I was pleased to see him be clear about the dating/relationship stance. My problem is once you start having sex with someone, you need to be up front about hooking up with others as well. Don’t play with folks health like that, and give them the chance to opt out if they don’t like the setup. So far I can’t tell if he’s having sex with Seol-a as well, but assuming so, that’s the part he needed to be clear with Na-bi about. And names didn’t even have to be shared, but transparency on sex partners would’ve been better. However, Jae-eon wasn’t being an asshole to Na-bi, or playing her out in my opinion seeing as how he already stated he doesn’t date. No matter how cute their situation was, no one updated the status to an exclusive dating relationship.

His reputation… he played into it big time. He knows how girls view him, so it should be no shock when one decides to be hot and cold with him. In the same token though, if these girls gonna be willingly hooking up or whatever with him, the judgement shouldn’t be one sided if all parties know what it is up front 🤷🏽‍♀️. It’s also just as messed up to seek him out and use him for their own reasons as well. The way the students were gossiping and talking shit about him… Jae-eon doesn’t seem to have any real friends, and that they liked being around him for good/bad drama or fringe benefits. From his perspective, I can understand not being vulnerable with any of his peers, and riding out that toxic reputation until graduation. He appears to have genuine feelings for Na-bi, but it’s gonna require him getting real with himself and opening up with her. Just like she’s gonna have to do with him. If he wants a relationship with anyone, he’s going to have to address why he chose to to build this reputation and properly deal with past flings if they pop up.

[wellthatwasaletdown]

So about dwd drama:

Florence blames Olivia for how bad the movie is… she’s basically like “Olivia was too busy frolicking the streets with Harry instead of caring about making a good movie.” She believed that Olivia was very “unprofessional.”

Florence felt like this wasn’t a serious project and Olivia made it more about herself than the story. She didn’t like that and didn’t enjoy being part of a soap opera involving the director and her co-star,” my source.

Aside from the movie not being good, Florence also had her own issues with Olivia who like my source said, was more focused on kissing Harry than making a good movie. Florence’s stylists wore “Miss Flo” shirts mocking what Olivia called Florence.

Florence was also Team Jason 100% and believes that Olivia cheated on Jason with Harry. Now I’m going to get to that later on in the post, but let’s talk about Harry.

Harry is that person that is going to watch from afar and see what he can use from a situation and what he can discard. He’s very image cautious.

Because Florence didn’t want to promote the movie or do anything for it, Olivia would use Harry and her relationship with him, to promote the movie. This meant that if she had to show up at places with Harry where she knows fans are going to take pictures and post them on social media, she will.

When the height of the drama with the movie happened, that’s when Harry started distancing himself and my source says that his legal team started handling everything including how many appearances he was going to make and when he can basically… dip. Especially when the reviews started coming in and everyone started saying Harry is a terrible actor.

Additional Tea: After the bad acting reviews, Harry quietly left the acting projects that he was lined up for because of that. Producers didn’t want him on board anymore and many projects lined up for 2023—even ones that weren’t made public, were shut down.

This is also why Olivia and Harry were awkward at the premiere. It felt like Olivia was trying to hold everything together and Harry was basically showing face until he didn’t have to anymore.

Now Olivia likes to act like this big feminist icon, but she was trying to blame the movie flopping on Florence’s acting… even though she was the only one who got positive reviews.

Their teams are saying they split because of their schedules, but that’s not true because Olivia would have no problem touring with Harry if he invited her.

Harry doesn’t want to deal with Olivia or her drama or have that overshadowing his career in the new year.

My source also tells me that Harry has no problem throwing Olivia under the bus if needed especially with her drama with Jason.

Many of these points were kinda discussed there already so it’s kinda crazy that other people can see this. Like I said wbk lol and we were probably right all along.

Their teams are saying they split because of their schedules, but that’s not true because Olivia would have no problem touring with Harry if he invited her.

I will forever laugh at this excuse because absolutely nothing changed from when she was flying across the U.S. and Europe to see him on tour during the first two legs of this tour and now.

Also, it gets even funnier when you add in the fact that she didn't have her kids over Thanksgiving and last week because they were with Jason and she was in Hawaii with Babs. You'll never convince me that that time wasn't originally planned for her to fly to Central and South America to go on tour with him for those two weeks.

[myloversgone]

Welcome, 2023

A/N: This a very long and personal post. It’s not a fluffy, smutty fic, unfortunately (even though I have lots of those in my WIPs folder). Soon, I’m hoping to be able to fully come back to this space I love and cherish so much. I just felt like I needed to organize my thoughts and feelings first, and tumblr is a safe space for me to do that. If you read it, thank you. If you don’t, no worries, I don’t expect someone to do so. This post is more for myself anyways.

2022 was the craziest year of my life.

And I’m not prone to craziness. I don’t seek adventure, I’m very practical and safe. Boring, if you will. 

So all the challenges (except for one), came to me without my agreement. I was sure I was in control of everything, and the past year showed me I’m definitely not.

At the beginning of the year, I went through major changes at work, including a new boss, and it required me to change my own behavior, completely against my will, in order to keep my job. It was hard and it went against my principles, but I didn’t have a choice at the moment.

Then I got sick and, after a long and exhausting period of going through tests and doctors, I had to go through surgery. It was supposed to be a very simple procedure, but it ended up in a series of complications that crushed me, physically and emotionally.

In the meantime, my family was (and still is) facing financial problems, and, because of that, their quality of life took a big step back, which was very frustrating to me, and even more for my mom and dad.

While all of that was happening, I was trying to prepare for the challenge I’ve chosen to go through: moving to another country, something I wished and dreamed about for as long as I can remember. For that, I had the unfailing support of my wonderful family, my previous boss, and my closest friends. But that decision was major, a long-term one, and I made it thinking about a future that is still way far ahead.

My country couldn’t offer me better job opportunities, mostly for political (Bolsonaro can go fuck himself and die) and economic reasons, and I was very unhappy in my uncomfortable confort zone. So, thinking about a better future for myself and for my parents, I moved not only to a different country, but to a different continent.

It was so hard. By the time I thought I would be organizing myself for the change, I was recovering from my disease, and, at a certain point, I thought I wouldn’t even be able to move, because nor me or the doctors had a precise answer for how long it would take for me to feel better. But I managed to recover, slowly.

After a very bumpy and complicated arrival at this new place, for the first month or so, all I could do was think I’ve made the wrong decision and wished to go back home. I would cry every single day, punishing myself for not being able to overcome this and live the dream I always worked so hard to accomplish.

Then, as if things weren’t hard enough, one of my dogs got sick and died. My dogs are the most precious things in my life. I love them unconditionally and with my entire heart. To be completely honest with you, sometimes I miss them more than I miss my parents. 

When I heard the news about my dog passing, the first thing I did (after crying my eyes out) was search for plane tickets to go back home. My dad was suffering a lot, because the dog who died was his favorite, his best friend for the past 9 years. He rescued her and took care of her when she got sick, so the impact on him was huge. And, for me, not being able to be there for him was incredibly difficult. 

But I realized there was nothing I could do. Going back home wouldn’t bring her back, and I didn’t want to give my dad another reason to worry about me. 

So I stayed. Despite money issues, language barriers, insecurities, loneliness, I stayed. I doubted I would be able to do that (I still do), and I felt like nobody here liked me or wanted me around. The last  time I had this need of belonging, I think it was during elementary school. I was afraid I would be alone for the holidays.

But then, I found a group of people that are in the same situation. They also have doubts and fears, they feel lonely and homesick too. And we bonded and celebrated Christmas and the New Year together. 

Well, now 2022 is finally over. Major changes came, for me personally, for the people around me, for my country - fortunately. I feel like things are finally starting to get better (even to write that makes me afraid and doubtful). I still search for stability, for connection, and for the means to be able to come back to my old self. 

I wish 2023 can bring me some of that. I’m trying.

Happy New Year everyone! Love to you all!

[rubberduckyrye]

... You know, I don’t think I ever actually. Explained what about the 3.3 quest ticked me off so bad that I felt the need to rewrite the entire thing in about a week, huh?

Well, the big/major factor in it was how the story treated Nahida.

When I first played through it, the implications of the quest were immediate to me--I guess that’s because I tend to hyper-think about the plot being given to me, and I’m not easily spoon fed. So when I first saw the fairy tale Nahida made, and how she implied she made it before she sent Scaramouche into Irminsul... I felt by god damn blood boil.

Do you know why this is a huge issue for me?

It’s because she planted the memory of Niwa and Dottore there, on purpose, with the intention of having him find it. And while showing him a very traumatic memory to show him the truth is a big issue on it’s own, I can at least understand how that is IC for her. She’s really bad at social stuff at times. Showing Scaramouche a memory that would break his perception of the world around him? Seems like a thing she might accidentally do without thinking about the consequences.

The problem with that though is the latter part. Without thinking about the consequences. The Fairy tale? That damn thing, for as cool of a concept as it is, complicates matters a bunch when you run with the idea that she made it before Scaramouche went into Irminsul.

If you HC that she made the Fairy Tale in a panic after he went and button mashed the Existential suicide button, then this is still mostly fine. She still didn’t know what the consequences of showing him a very traumatic memory like that would be, and in a panic, makes the fairy tale just before he successfully erases himself from everyone’s collective memory. There is merit to believing this HC and calling it canon, even! I personally believe this myself.

... But there’s merit to believe that this wasn’t the case. That Nahida made the fairy tale before Scaramouche went into Irminsul.

That Fairy tale was specifically designed and created to be missed/avoided in a very specific case--a grand scale memory wipe of a specific person from Irminsul. That means, in order for Nahida to have made the fairy tale in advance, she had to have known that a potential consequence of showing Scaramouche the truth, would be that he commits existential suicide.

And she, knowing fully well the consequences of this action, tricked him into looking at the memory anyway.

Needless to say, this is a god fucking AWFUL thing to do to anyone!

You should not ever, ever, force someone to confront a truth when they are not ready for it--when that truth will destroy their worldview to such a degree, without taking the time and care to properly address it and ease into it. Nahida, in this case, actively and knowingly would have been triggering Scaramouche without any warning or care for his well being. I know he’s not a good person but dear fucking god.

Other problems with Nahida in this quest (her feeling more robotic and stoic than she should, the plot holes, ectect) weren’t nearly as bad as this implication. I can live with weird writing and plot holes. But this one aspect of the Fairy Tale’s creation? This is why I wrote the first 12-13k all in one day.

Anyway that’s my Hot Take on things, and why I wanted to rewrite the story.

[overgrownmoon]

ventpost below i need to yell into the void some more

ok i had dinner and i feel better but man there’s a lot on my mind right now and if i don’t yell about it somewhere i might explode. the problem is i don’t really know who irl might be able to genuinely help me with this issue. let me get into it, while trying to not give out too many personal details.

my baby brother is 17 years younger than me. yea, big gap. he’s actually my half brother, my stepdad and mom got married a few years ago. look, i love my stepdad. i love my bro. but… man, do i have complicated feelings.

i’m terrified we’ll never be close due to the age gap. we might never relate to each other or find common ground. i mean, im gonna move out and he’ll spend most of his childhood knowing me as someone who doesn’t live with him. will he see me as a sibling? will i just be another annoying family member mom makes him say hi to?

how can i even say that part of me is angry he exists? how can i say that and feel good about myself? listen, i dont like feeling that way, but there is a part of me that is so upset that he was born.

my younger brother and I were sat down and told the news when mom was a month pregnant. i spent the moments leading up to that reveal praying that this wouldn’t be a pregnancy announcement. then I had to pretend i wasnt thinking that. i told mama i was happy and felt so guilty, like i was lying. i’m not sure if i wasn’t.

we were never consulted. at no point did mama or my stepdad ask us how we would feel about a new sibling. never were we included in that conversation. i’m sorry, don’t i live here? isn’t this my family? don’t i have a voice in this? it felt unfair, like i wasn’t even considered as someone who would have feelings about this. it’s a huge life change, i would’ve liked to at least be asked! i still feel betrayed. and i feel selfish that i do.

no, i didn’t want a new baby in the house. i was happy with my younger bro and my new stepsister from stepdad’s side, who lives in a different state than me. i thought our family was enough. when the baby was announced, i suddenly felt that maybe i wasn’t enough. maybe me and my brother weren’t enough.

are we not enough? why did mama want another? did we not love her enough? did my stepdad not love us enough? why would they have felt that they needed a new baby between them, a new child born from their marriage, when we kids were already there? what sort of need did they feel to “validate” or “deepen their bond?” y’all are married, we had the ceremony and everything, was it not enough? i don’t understand.

it’s hard for me to understand. i have tokophobia, the fear of pregnancy. i describe it as a phobia since the very mention of it makes me feel sick and upset. i get uncomfortable just seeing a visibly pregnant person in public. the idea of a being growing inside me and using my energy frightens me, and the whole ordeal that is birth sounds like a torture scene from a horror movie. i can’t fathom why someone would want to go through that a third time! i can’t even imagine wanting to do it once!

i know it’s not my baby bros fault. he didn’t choose to be born. he’s here, and we can’t undo that. i’ll do my best to love him and raise him in this home. i’m so, so scared of the future, though.

i’m scared because i see so much of my own childhood fears coming through. as a kid i felt like a burden. that i was a leech on my parents money and time. i felt guilty for having the problems and issues every kid has because i felt that i was being an undue burden, some kind of obstacle against my parent’s happiness. i thought they would be happier if i didn’t exist, and if they were free to go travel and vacation without a needy child to take care of. in many ways i’m still shaking off those old thoughts about myself; i still find it hard to ask for help without feeling like i’m just making more problems for everyone.

will the baby feel like that? will he watch me and my brother move out, get jobs, while he has to live at home for another decade? will he watch other folks my parents age, whose children are out of the house and are free to go and do whatever they want, and feel that he is the reason his own parents can’t? will he feel that he is the burden of the family, like i did?

i hate that feeling. i don’t want him to feel that way. no kid should feel that way. i especially hate that sometimes i feel myself thinking that way about him; being annoyed that i have to watch him instead of going somewhere, that we have to be back in time for his nap instead of staying out, that we can’t go out at all because we don’t have a sitter for him. i hate it. it’s not his fault. i know that. but after going a few years where we as a family could be spontaneous, could go and do and be out for however long we wanted, and then be put back in a restrictive schedule - it sucks. i liked that freedom and i want it back. that’s not fair to him.

i don’t feel like a very good big sibling, or a very good person saying all of this. i don’t feel good at all. i struggle talking about this to anyone because that’s mum family i’m talking about, a little boy, and how dare i speak so evilly about my little baby brother? i feel like a monster. i’m could never say anything about this to mama; she’d be so hurt, because that’s her baby i’m talking about. it sucks because i can talk to mama about anything else but this. we have always been so close and i feel like this is driving. a wedge in that, because i don’t think we will ever be able to see eye to eye and understand each others views. mama had always wanted children; i will be happy with none. i dont think we’d ever be able to find a solution.

i don’t know what to do. of course i’ll never take it out on the baby, but i’m so scared of this turning into resentment that i can’t help but show around him. i can’t do that to him, make him think i hate him for something he had no control over. yet, how does one ever figure out these complicated thoughts? i don’t think i ever will. that’s terrifying to think about.

uh, thanks for reading, i guess. irl moots please know i’m fine, currently. just really in the weeds at the moment. im tired.

shit, man, family. i thought mine was already complicated enough.

[mejomonster]

i’m on my school president ep 7. my thoughts so far (very biased by ya know, favoring action romance and not vibing much with fluff romcoms):

this IS a great show for you if you DO like fluff romcoms! so please do check it out if this is your thing. the actors get more clearly solid if you give it a couple episodes, its a good cast. its cute. its episode of the week almost in terms of conflicts so it feels a lot like a romcom anime in pacing. if that’s ur thing? you’ll love this

me? mm. well. i really do not care for fluff romcoms lol. it is not the same level as Bad Buddy. Even though it gets compared to Bad Buddy and people told me i’d like this if i liked Bad Buddy. This is GOOD for what it is (romcom). Bad Buddy was not pure romcom though, it had some heavier level angst in there. It had some family conflicts and each main character had a personal character arc that was around equal weight to their romance arc (possibly heavier than their romance arc honestly). Bad Buddy was a coming of age romance/growing up story and more 10 Things I Hate About You vibes (fitting as they’re both shakespeare based lol). My School President IS relatable to senior high schooler coming of age, and the kids do deal with parental wishes/financial pressures/dreams. But at least so far, there’s a safety security there that’s more comforting romcom than real danger - their parents ultimately always pick their kids dreams and support them, their parents ultimately want their kids to be happy, their kids crushes ultimately like the other person back, the reason people can’t date is mostly personal feelings about a club and dating drama in a club so no big UNAVOIDABLE conflict the dating barrier is really not that big of a deal. it feels big because theyre teens and friends ‘forbidding’ it or tradition ‘forbidding it’ feels huge. But this is like the Bad Buddy friends with rivalries, except no ones even being punched and suspended and breaking property. The real ‘conflict’ of bad buddy was selfish parents taking their own issues on their kids, and that kind of heavy awful conflict is just not present here. 

My School President is a feel good show. i don’t have to worry Gun will give up music, or that his mom will truly go broke if he doesn’t get a job, or that Tinn’s mom would actually make her son not date someone he loves, etc. Now this show COULD 180 me and suddenly get serious and make these conflicts SERIOUS and actually kill Gun’s mom or have Tinn’s mom be abusive and ban him from things he likes, but i Really do NOT think this show wants to be heavy like that. and i’m cool with it. i’d prefer it light. if it’s going to be light STAY light (which is maybe why ppl compare it to bad buddy - i think some people WANTED bad buddy to stay lighter hearted and didn’t expect it to tackle serious parental issues and life problems so much). so like. My School President is just a different kind of story, which is good if you’re looking FOR a lighter hearted ‘it will all turn out okay’ slice of life teens story. i do like it for that in it’s own way.

its currently my ‘break’ show. turn on to just see happy people crushing and things turning out okay. i bet if i was back in high school it’d be comforting the way teen slice of life anime romcoms were when i was in high school. i’m not absolutely in love with the show but i think that comes down to me just personally liking other genres usually.

an fyi on the actors by the way: if you DO like romcoms, and the initial acting performances u weren’t sure on, give it a few episodes. i think like many show first episode opens, it takes a minute to warm up. the lead actors Are actually quite good, they’re also playing a couple in Moonlight Chicken right now and its clear in that show they Can do nuance, so My School President is just more fluffy story type characters with a script mainly on crushes and school conflicts. they’re good at acting its just there’s maybe not the weight u expected if you saw bad buddy last.

[karenvideoeditor-blog]

About two hours outside what is considered the New York City metro area, in a place just large enough to qualify as a town, is a train station. I’ve occasionally used it, taking the train into the city with friends for something like a concert or a fun weekend out when I was older. Now, at the age of eighteen and needing a job, I found myself submitting an application to work there. To my delight, the interview was straightforward and my work as a waitress seemed sufficient background in the customer service industry because I got the job without needing to jump through any hoops.

Jobs are always in short supply living in a small town, especially the variety of your options. In a big city, there are tons of businesses to choose from, but here the vast majority weren’t great. Many were labor intensive, and while I can lift fifty pounds, I’m not large by any stretch of the word and my arms wouldn’t be happy about it.

What I liked about the night shift at a train station was that I wouldn’t have to deal with too many people, but I’d have enough to keep myself occupied. Also, if any of the customers had an issue, I was the only one on staff and therefore the highest authority there. I could politely but firmly ask someone to leave if they became a problem.

 The only concern I had was the list of rules that I was given when I started working there. There were rumors about working at the station at night, but I had ascribed them to the boredom of living in a small town. You make your own entertainment, lacking in things to do, and often that involves gossip and tall tales.

Nevertheless, I came in for a few hours during a day shift for training, and after my work ethic and such was met with his approval and I was officially hired, I was given a laminated sheet of paper by my boss listing what he referred to as, ‘important, special rules’.

An old woman will arrive at the station at 2:47 AM, she will not have enough money to pay the fare, let her in anyway. She will then board an unscheduled train at 3:00 AM. Do not attempt to turn her away under any circumstances.

A man in a trench coat will occasionally come to the booth to ask about trains that go to Los Angeles. Be respectful and polite to him when you explain our trains don’t go that far.

If a customer pays with anything other than money, no matter what it is, accept it and write down the details in the ledger.

A short woman with long hair will often appear at 4:30 a.m. and stand waiting for a train before leaving. Never disturb her or attempt to speak to her.

If the lights go out, turn on the lantern and proceed with business as normal. Do not go into the lobby for any reason.

It is rare, but a man dressed professionally with a suitcase sometimes comes into the station lobby and attempts to get something from one of the vending machines without paying. Allow him to get angry with the machine and don’t bother him. He will leave after a few minutes.

If a large group of teenagers that look dressed for a funeral enter the station, go through the motions to sell them tickets as usual even though they won’t pay. Ring up the transactions as $0.00.

If you start to hear the noise of a crowded station but no one is there, turn off the lights in your booth and sit on the floor. Don’t look out at the lobby. If someone attempts to get your attention, ignore them.

I’ll admit, reading over them prompted me to joke, “I like a good prank as much as the next person, but this feels like hazing.”

His facial expression didn’t change, though. My boss, the manager of the station, was a portly man with thick salt and pepper hair who always had a five o’clock shadow when I saw him late at night. His wrinkly face looked deadly serious. “This isn’t hazing. I know you’ve heard the odd anecdote here or there, and I’m here to tell you that many of the things you’ve heard are true. Okay? It’s extremely important that you follow every one of these rules. I don’t care if you think they’re total bunk; act as if…as if I’m watching over your shoulder, all right?”

Considering my paycheck was riding on it, I assured him that I would do just that. For all I knew, these rules were the equivalent of musicians putting riders into their contracts to make sure the person reading it was attentive to details. If they missed something small and seemingly trivial, it was possible or even likely that they would miss something big and important. The only thing that was strange was that from midnight to 5:00 a.m., no trains ran at the station, so there shouldn’t have been any customers during that span of time.

Then, during my second shift, the woman arrived.

I’d been reading a worn paperback I’d gotten at the secondhand store, a fun sci-fi story that kept my attention and made the long hours pass more quickly. Then I was startled when she tapped on the glass, having not heard the sound of the heavy lobby door opening and shutting. “Oh, I’m sorry, can I help-”

The small digital clock on my desk read 2:47.

The woman was small and slim, her hair thin and curly with that odd purplish tint some older people go for at the salon. She was smiling, revealing a set of uncomfortable-looking dentures, and wore a summer dress with green and yellow flowers even though it was probably in the forties outside.

“Hello, dear,” she said. “I need a ticket to Albany, please.”

“Sure thing.” I glanced around the lobby, but there was no one else there. With a mental shrug, I went into the system on my computer and brought up the destination, selecting a ticket and adjusting it so the price was free. “Here you go. Have a good night,” I said with my customer-service smile.

“Thank you, dear,” she replied. She picked up a cane that I hadn’t seen, resting against the booth, and slowly made her way to the door. With surprising ease considering her slight figure, she pushed it open and went outside.

The door shut behind her, the sound of the latch echoing in the empty room, and I blew a raspberry at the unclimactic event. Then at 2:57, I made what was probably an unwise decision: I decided to go watch the woman to see if she’d left.

Coming out through the door that let me into the lobby, I then ently pressed the bar to unlatch the door that led to the platform and pushed it open. Then I slowly and quietly shut it behind me. Looking down the platform, I saw her waiting patiently for a train that would never arrive.

I made a small, contemplative sound before leaning against the wall, staring at her. I wondered if it was some sort of tradition for her, off-schedule so she wouldn’t run into anyone else. Or possibly she was senile, and some part of her brain made her come to the station for a train that had never run and never would. That was unlikely, I figured, since a senile old woman wouldn’t, or at least shouldn’t, be allowed to go to a train station on her own.

Then came the moment I was waiting for: 3:00 a.m. The large analog clock on the platform showed the time and as soon as the minute hand reached the twelve, the woman moved. Walking steadily forward, she got closer and closer to the edge of the platform, and I became more and more concerned. When she was two feet from the edge, I worriedly called out, “Ma’am!” but she didn’t falter her pace. Immediately, my pace grew faster, and when her right foot lifted and made to set down on empty air, my voice was panicked as I repeated, “Ma’am! Stop!”

She did, slowly turning to look at me. To my utter shock, it appeared that she was standing on nothing, putting half her body weight and her cane on a floor that wasn’t there. But that didn’t keep my attention for long. I’d stumbled to a stop when she had come to a halt, and I was a good twenty feet away from her, but from that distance it looked like there was something wrong with her eyes. There was no color to the iris and no white around them. They were completely black.

“Excuse me?” she rumbled.

Something in her tone sent a shiver down my spine and made the hairs on the back of my neck prickle as if an icy wind had struck me. I found myself instinctively stammering, “Sorry,” and staring at her in shock. Frozen in place, the seconds ticked by, and then she finally turned her gaze forward and away from me, and I felt like a physical weight had been lifted. Then she took two more steps into empty air and disappeared.

I stood there staring at the spot where she’d vanished for a good minute, going over everything that had happened, and feeling like I’d dodged a bullet. That’s when I realized I’d technically broken the rule. Do not attempt to turn her away under any circumstances. Telling her to stop walking was a violation. Perhaps it was my reflexive apology that saved me from her wrath, if there were indeed repercussions to breaking the rule.

Finally, I slowly turned and walked back inside, unlocking the door to the booth with the key on my belt and returning to my seat. Sitting in the silence that now felt eerie, I went over what had happened in my head several times. Was she a ghost? A demon? Something else? I had no idea. But I found myself questioning if the job was worth the risk if these sorts of things happened often.

Then again, I had the list of rules. All I needed to do was follow them, right? It was possible that I’d almost made an extreme mistake that night, but everything had worked out in the end. Now I knew that the rules I’d been given were entirely serious. So, I took in and let out a long breath, picked up my book, and started reading where I’d left off.

An old woman will arrive at the station at 2:47 AM, she will not have enough money to pay the fare, let her in anyway. She will then board an unscheduled train at 3:00 AM. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO TURN HER AWAY UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.

[simslegacy5083]

NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 8 Ep. 46: Here For You

While Chance was exploring the dating scene, his grand-grand-grandson’s girlfriend Nikita had quit her office job to spend more time sharing in her new boyfriend’s love of history and archeological reading at their local library. It became their own quiet home away from home.

Their hobby awakened new heights of scholarly aspirations in her, and in between marathon sessions pouring over old research journals with her boy, she searched online for degrees that would cater to their particular interests. Paul wasn’t willing to go back to school and face more tests and papers, but he encouraged her to apply to college in between reading together happily until their backs grew stiff and their eyes blurred.

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

Nikita’s eyes in particular were staying fuzzy annoyingly long, and when it began limiting their reading time, the pair took a trip to the eye doctor to see if she needed a pair of glasses to match his own. They weren’t prepared to find out her issue was actually early onset cataracts.

The doctor said she would need surgery eventually to correct the problem, which freaked Nikita out. When their provider left to give them some privacy and decide what they wanted to do, she curled up into Paul’s waiting arms to sob her fears into his soft shoulder.

She had always been terrified of the idea of someone operating on her eyes. What if they messed up and made things worse!?

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

Paul calmed her down, promising they would take the time to research the best solutions before agreeing to anything serious. That day Nikita just got a pair of glasses to help work around the symptoms temporarily, giving her time to adjust to the idea and go into her procedure more prepared.

When she admitted that she felt a little dorky in her new eyewear her boyfriend was quick to remind her just how beautiful he thought she was.

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

Nikita got the opportunity to help Paul through his own medical crises much more quickly than either of them had anticipated.

Paul’s job at the greenhouse was going well, but it also required him to do a lot of heavy lifting. Self conscious about asking for help with a particularly big job and eager to prove his worth following his recent promotion, he overextended himself and managed to injure his back.

Far from impressing with his diligence, he ended up having to limp painfully into his supervisor’s office to apologize for having to go seek care.

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

His injury ended up requiring surgery, and he would have been devastated if he hadn’t had Nikita to lean on emotionally and literally. She made sure he took it easy, got plenty of rest, and kept him following a good diet to keep his anemia at bay and allow his body to heal.

He tried to apologize for being such a burden, but she told him she was glad to be there to support him just like he’d supported her.

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

The young lovers had not expected the health issues that had interrupted their idyllic book filled paradise but facing those hard times together had been infinitely better than facing them alone.

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Want To See More? View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[letsrantoutloud]

April 10, 2023: Looks like I’m the bully

This generation of people are starting to get on my nerves. I’ve never, in my life, been in contact with so many emotional people in my life--and specifically, boys. For one, this new generation is all about being in touch with your emotions--which is great. I have no qualms with that whatsoever. But with that being said, this younger generation seems to abuse this new ‘trend’ of being woke and emotional to the point they make people like me--who grew up with thick skin because my parents weren’t taught how to talk to their kids. I’ve grown to take it in and either let it go or make it better somehow.  But now I have a younger brother who is living with his mom and isn’t incline to do better for himself. For years, my siblings and I have told him to get his shit together because no one wants to be the one to ‘take care’ of a grown ass adult, especially when he is taking advantage of his mom for her inability to ‘force him to grow up’. My younger brother is good at telling you that he knows, and he knows what he needs to work on, and that he will do that. Works for a couple of days, and then back to doing nothing again. This is what I’m talking about, and I am the bully who will rant about it because I’m getting sick of the thought that I’m the bad guy when I’m not. Just fucking get your shit together and quit relying for others to do shit for you.

So with that said, I have been dealing with an issue with a guy around the same age as my younger brother who, apparently, has an issue with me.  Just to make it clear--my supervisors are all for peer to peer conversations and so I never thought this day would come where someone would have any problems with me. But I guess my life has been too quiet.  One of my coworker and I get pulled into a room and immediately she states something along the lines, “So it seems *this person* has a concern with people making fun of his ADHD...” At first I was like, whoa. Who is making fun of his ADHD? And she goes on to say how he has never told anyone about his ADHD and that he did not like how people were making fun of him for it. And he told her it usually happens when everyone is at the control area when he gets teased.  AGAIN, I didn’t think too much about it because I haven’t talked to him for what feels like a week or two. Then, at the last moment, she brings up that both my coworker and I’s name were listed as the ones who did so.  So...yes. From feeling bad for him, to literally, ‘wait, what??”

Mind you, I need to explain a little bit more about who he is. *This person* likes to joke around and even make remarks about himself. There are times where he sat next to me and when he moves and brushes up against me on accident, he would say, “Ew, don’t be feeling up on my dump truck.” Which would surprise me a bit and I wouldn’t look at him because, who the fuck talks about their ass like that? And I’ve never thought of his ass as big or anything. So I just shook it off. See what I did there? I just moved on from the scenario, even though he was calling himself a dump truck. He also sometimes call himself fat, but of course there is no response to that because that’s just weird.  There was also a recent time where the coworker who got called in as well asked if he drinks and he literally placed himself in a stereotype and said, “I’m *this”, of course I drink”. Learning from my years of working, when you freely stereotype yourself in front of a group, there is a human nature in us that pretty much is like, ‘oh if they can joke about themselves, that probably means I can joke too’.

I still dont exactly remember when and what I said to him. Usually I try to joke with people while trying to comment how they should do work this other way, so it wouldn’t be so messy next time. I TRIED to redirect the way they work in my own manner INSTEAD of just instantly bringing them somewhere to reprimand them for the shitty way they do the work. I may have commented if his adhd was preventing him from remembering from doing things that are needed, because if you know me, you know I like to observe and ask why things and people are doing it the way they do it. For example, never in my 6 years of working here, have I dealt with someone who constantly forgets to plug in a VERY important machine (that if low on battery, will need 24 hours to recharge, and mind you, we don’t have many of these machines and it is important to keep them plugged in!!), or forgets to label expiration dates on opened products (because we have a shortage right now) and it always comes back around to being HIM who had done it. The area he sits in is never clean, there is always water bottles, used masked and other miscellaneous items that should be thrown away because we all share areas!!

I never claimed to be perfect. Never claimed to be an angel. But when you have issues or concerns about what someone may have said, you need to address it and find out what their intent is for saying it. I remember when I was joking with a coworker but she quickly told me she was not in the mood for my teasing and what did I do? I backed off. To this day, we are still good coworkers who sit next to each other. I get it, and she gets it too. When I’m not in the mood or don’t look like im in the mood she asks if i’m okay. I’ve told her sometimes I just need time and she acknowledged what I said and has respected to this point and time. See what communication does with one another? 

Now im at a point at work where he is pretty much avoiding me and my coworker because of how ‘snitch’ it was for him to go to the supervisor instead of coming to us to say he did not like being teased, even if he may make it seem like he didn’t mind. And if I really butt hurt him, then honestly his ass can come to me about it. Now he can walk around knowing that he said something but now has made our relationship at work something it wasn’t before. Probably can’t really go back, and I’ve honestly thought about it. Should I just go and talk to him? Ask him about the details of the event he was talking about? And tell him my intent was never to hurt him to the point he is thinking about it to this day. And for next time, to tell him to just say he does not like that. And I will step back. Easier said than done right?

Another part of me also pointed out--I don’t really care for a relationship with him. He has told me plenty of times, he wants to go to events outside of work with his coworkers and pretty much build relationships. We’ve bonded through talking about gaming and computer stuff. He can be a bit annoying from my perspective because he is a wannabe ‘know it all’ who sometimes like to correct me if I talk with bad grammar or correct others about a certain topic he has ‘researched’. It sends me back to the time where we were training one of his classmates and she told me straight up that he was a teacher’s pet and he annoyed her. I can see that in the work that he does. He doesn’t like to be told how to do things sometimes and it shows when he doesn’t look at you when you are talking to him. His energy screams he wants to be the best at what he does and hopes to be the top dog around here, but at the same time, I just want him to chill the fuck out and learn the ropes before he thinks so highly of himself. That’s why the weeks before this happened, I haven’t gotten the energy to talk to him. Because he is draining and very opinionated at times. I also avoid working with him if possible because the work he does can be sloppy. So i’d rather just leave him be.  So here I am, guys. This guy whom I’ve built a relationship with in some ways by bonding about gaming and jrock, has come to an end. I thought we have built a decent enough relationship to the point where if I said something he did not like, he should have come to me and say it--as peer to peer. I would have taken it and apologized and we can go on our merry way. I am someone who remembers anyone’s request of me if I did something unintentionally hurtful. But at this point and time, I’m just annoyed that it has come to this. Mainly because I don’t have to build a relationship with someone who will go behind my back to tell me something. And honestly, never had a passion to get to know him outside of work.  So call it what you will--I am a bully and my coworker is afraid of me now.  But whatever. Snitches get stitches. If you weren’t ready to take this on, you shouldn’t have done that, right? Now I am just going to walk by you as you shiver in your pants about our strained relationship. Hahahahahhaha.

[queenxfchaos]

Skye looked at Gohan with a horrified look on her face and shook her head as she gagged, “Hell no!” her loud exclamation of disgust caught the attention of the librarian who let out a stern “SSSH” apparently this was a place for peace and quiet, she could dig it and besides it’s not like she was going to get Gohan in trouble, at least not on purpose.

“Look, they weren’t an issue if you were of saiyan blood, if a human tried to take on one of these fuckers, they’d die a quick death, but for us? It was kid stuff.”

She shrugged as she brushed her hair from her face, “I mean, I can take you to Vampa if you really want to study them, but one I don’t think my father will be happy to see you and secondly my big brother Broly is nuts and I don’t want anyone killed.” She let her tail go free as it was hers to do with as she pleased and didn’t care if the humans saw it,

“So, what’s your story? And how are you related to Kakarot? Is he your father? I can since that you two have similar Ki, don’t get me wrong, I don’t care either way, my father is the one who has beef with the guy, frankly I took the opportunity to come to Earth as a way to escape my shitty existence, I won’t be doing any honor killing.”

She wasn't sure if she should tell him her own story, would that cause more problems? "I'm about to turn 25 and before I was the star you saw on stage, I lived in the jungle and used my space pod as shelter and dinosaurs as food, then I got the courage to mingle with the humans and I clawed and killed my way to the top, seduced the right people and literally did what it took. If it wasn't for the "World Champ" I don't think I'd be as rich as I am, he's an idiot."

@sonxgohan

Skye was not a popular idol for just her looks, she had proven time and time again she was an artist with not only her voice, but her costumes and the out of this world special effects that she managed to produce with little to no effort.

The majority of the idols in the industry were cute girls with a range for selling and singing pop, this is where she not only didn’t fit in, but found herself shunned by the other performers at the record company. The music started to play, it was not like anything you’d normally hear at a rock concert as it started off with the band playing music that sounded as if Mozart himself was on stage with them.

Suddenly the stage in the middle rose up and as the fog faded Skye stepped out from a make shift confession box that was adorned with roses and thorns, she was dressed like a nun that was dipped in sin and her outfit was completely latex, even the habit which adorned her head.

Her eyes closed as she stepped forward a cross clutched in her hands, as the tone of the music changed and it was that of heavy metal mixed with the sweet symphony sound from before.

The crowd was going wild and as her eyes opened, her pupils were absent and the whites of her eyes glimmered in the stage lights and she began to sing in a language like no one had heard before and this was because it was the old language spoken by her people.

By the end of the show she had not only flown, she had also shot energy across the audience and had many outfit changes, when it was finally finished she walked off stage, wearing a black cape, leather pants and pink pasties. She lived for her art and gave her all, it was the only thing in her life that gave her peace.

[forever1kay]

i’ll help you if you let me - megumi fushiguro

Apart of the Natural Hair Chronicles series!

Summary: Megumi decides to put an end to your self isolation and feels his heart break when he sees you in the condition you were in.

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x black!reader (implied fem)

Warnings: Natural hair issues, Megumi made you cry twice, self isolation (it was completely voluntary), tears, insecure reader, Megumi may seem a little out of character here, mention of murder but like as a joke. Let me know if I forgot anything!

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After canceling and rescheduling date night for the third time this week, Megumi knew something had to seriously be wrong. After all, you planned the majority of your dates with him. Why would you want to cancel something you planned?

He debated coming to check up on you, thinking about how you need your space and how he wants to avoid confrontation, but he felt everything would get even worse if he sat aside and did nothing. So with that, he put on his big boy draws and walked down the hall to your dorm.

He knocked multiple times, but each time all he got was a weak “go away!”

No opening the door then slamming it in his face, no happiness in your voice, it’s like you were there but only physically.

At this point, he was even more worried, so he went next door to ask Maki for her key.

(He still wasn’t sure why she got one and he didn’t, but he knew this wasn’t the time to dwell on it).

After pestering Maki for ten minutes to give him the key, he took the chance to just snatch it and run.

Thankfully, he was still alive after. But also, much to his dismay, he found you in your room sulking.

Yeah, I’ve definitely gotta get to the bottom of this.

He walks into your room and closes the door behind him, placing the key on your dresser then walking to your bed.

“Y/n.” He says, expecting you to reply. But you don’t. Instead you groan, raising your hand out of your comforter and using it to shoo him away.

He tries getting your attention a few more times but gets inevitably tired. Ignoring your whines, he pushes you to the other side of the bed and takes your previous place.

“Alright,” he starts, turning to look at you although you refuse to look at him. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” Your mumble almost incoherently, your voice muffled by the comforter.

“Yeah,” he says knowingly, “you’ve been sulking all week. No one has seen you.”

“I haven’t.” You reply, and although you attempt to sound strong, he can hear your voice starting to waver.

“Look,” he starts, “They’re all worried about you.”

He hears you sniffle and he corrects himself.

“We’re all worried about you.”

“You’re worried about me?” You ask, pulling your head out of the covers to a point where at least your eyes are visible to him.

“I’m always worried about you, angel.” He tells you, “even if I don’t say it often, I’ll always care.”

“You’re only being nice because I’m in my feelings.” You say, putting your head back down.

He doesn’t even try to deny. “You’re right.”

And when you sob after that fragment, he loses himself.

“But I’m still telling the truth!” He yells in a panic, “I’m always worried, but you know I wouldn’t tell you this if you weren’t sad! Please don’t make me feel worse about this than I already do!”

When you don’t stop crying, he takes matters into his own hands, pulling the cover from your body then pulling you up to lean on him.

He holds you and lets you cry into his neck, flinching slightly when he feels your snot hit the skin there. Either way, he doesn’t move you or himself.

When you stop crying, he cautiously moves you away from his neck, looking into your eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You give him a look.

His cheeks heat up. “Bad question, sorry,”

You both sit in silence for a few more minutes until you feel ready to speak.

“It wasn’t something you did,” you tell him. “It’s my hair.”

He frowns but continues to let you talk.

“It literally won’t cooperate with any style I try to do. It looks so awkward, it’s breaking off, it itches so bad. I don’t know what to do! I know it’s not a reason to cry, and I know it’s stupid but- ”

“Your feelings are valid and you can cry anytime you need to.” He cuts you off. “Whether that’s with me, with Maki, or alone. You’re only human, Y/n. But eventually, you’ll have to pick up where you left off. I know you don’t like anyone’s hands in your hair, but if you asked me I’d help. Nobara would help, Yuji would absolutely love to help, Maki would hate it but she’d do it for you. I’d give you my card for a hair appointment and even sit with you through it if you wanted me to. I know sometimes your hair pulls away from your mental health, but you’re not alone through any of it and I need you to know that.”

You start to cry again and his eyes widen. He only knows to pull you back into him again and he starts to rub your back.

“I love you!” You cry into his shirt, holding on tightly as if he’d immediately walk away if you let go.

“I love you too, pretty baby.” He says softly, kissing your bonnet since your forehead was buried into his shirt. “But if you come to your room and cut off contact with us for this long again, I’ll kill you.”

© forever1kay 2022 ,

[becca-e-barnes]

Hiya becca! Would you be comfortable writing something for Steve (nomad Steve) + thigh riding? Like maybe his girl is stressed out because of work and he tells her to use his thigh to cum? Also maybe include a little bit of a praise kink? 😬

Omg yes honey!! I do write for Steve as well 💗 (and Sam and any of the ladies if anyone has any requests!) I was so excited to write this one because I’m so into alllll of this 🥵 I’m a hoe for thigh riding, I think Steve would be so willing to praise you to high heaven and as much as I enjoyed my first week in my new job, that laptop burnout gets so real 😩

Fun fact and unpopular opinion: I prefer clean shaven Steve 🙃 But I made my first mood board!! Thoughts?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2.3K (Will I ever write a blurb?)

Summary: You’re stressed out working from home so Steve offers a few solutions

Warnings: Smut, thigh riding, working from home stress, burnout, hickies, nomad!Steve, cockwarming, fluff, praise kink, pet names, exercise mention, needy Steve

Minors, do not interact

“What’s wrong honey, you seem stressed?” Steve’s voice was so damn soft and you didn’t need to be able to see his face to know that he probably had his brow furrowed in concern.

You knew he’d been keeping an eye on you through the glass door to your study, getting more and more anxious since every time he checked in, you looked a little more up tight. It was almost time to turn the laptop off for the day and you were absolutely wrecked, hunched over the desk with your face buried in your own folded arms, eyes closed, trying to rest them a little from a full day of staring at the screen.

Working from home was rough for you but Steve was so thankful for it. He hated the thought of you sitting in this kind of stressed out state in an office, unable to talk to anyone about it. At least he was at home during the day so he could make sure you ate properly and give a little comfort whenever you needed it most.

“I’m okay baby, promise.” You replied quietly, not lifting your head from your folded arms just yet. Your eyes felt like they were buzzing in your head, clearly overworked and strained.

“I’m not convinced.” His tone was soft as he came in and closed the door behind him, padding softly across the carpet to sit down on the little couch beside your office chair. He had been out for his run before dinner but he had hardly broken a sweat. You had told him that t-shirt he was wearing was too tight but he insisted on wearing it anyway. His running shorts showed off so much of his legs, hard muscles tense and defined after his run.

“I just… I hate this Steve. I miss my office, miss my computer, it didn’t give me headaches like this laptop does. Miss my chair in my office too, my back feels like it’s breaking and my ass is numb on this one.” You knew it probably sounded silly. Of course it did, they weren’t even real issues but waking up to the same problems, day in, day out was exhausting. Steve didn’t see it that way though. To him, anything that made you upset was worth fixing, no matter how small.

“Okay angel, let’s sort it out. We’ll go out after dinner and buy you a nice big monitor. Or maybe a whole desktop if you see one you like? How does that sound?” He was so gentle, stroking the side of your face with his thumb, loving how you seemed to unclench your entire body a little now that he had come up with a solution.

“But I might be going back to the office soon, it would be silly t-“ you began but he cut you off.

“I don’t care. Don’t care how long you actually use it for, at least you’ll have it for tomorrow. I’m not having you sitting in here, giving yourself a headache any longer.” He smiled when you attacked him with a huge hug, moving yourself so you were sitting on his lap, cuddled as tightly against his huge frame as you could manage.

“Thank you Steve.” You whispered, against his shirt, face buried in the huge man that felt like home. His arms wrapped around you, boxing you in. You’d never felt more secure in your life, breathing in the scent that you recognised as being distinctly Steve, orange and sandalwood, musky but fragrant, the scent you associated comfort food, the best naps of your life and loving kisses that made your knees weak. You could’ve sat there for hours, encased in Steve’s huge body.

“Don’t mention it angel. And as for your chair, we’re throwing this old thing away. Let’s get you a new one, yeah? Unless you’d rather sit on my lap like this all day.” He couldn’t help the warmth that bloomed in his chest at your little happy wiggle, a gentle kiss placed to the crown of your head.

“Wait is that an option? Cause I’d definitely take your lap over a new chair.” You giggled happily, pulling your head out of his chest to look at his face. God this huge, bulky, bearded man was so soft for you and only you.

“Oh kitten, my lap is always an option, you know that.” He laughed, forcing one bare leg between yours to prove his point, leaving you straddling it.

“How about a little stress relief honey? Hm?” He quizzed quietly, taking in how your eyes went wide when he tensed his leg muscles under you. You could feel it through your thin little shorts, hard muscle presenting itself to you.

“W-what did you have in mind?” Your voice was meeker than you expected, just needing to be taken care of.

“Nothin’ in particular kitten. How about you just rock yourself right here on my leg? I’ll help you angel, don’t worry, just make yourself feel good. Don’t even worry about me, jus’ want my best girl to get herself off and make a pretty mess for me.” All of a sudden this voice was low, a filthy baritone rumbling through his chest at the thought of you cumming on his leg. You could tell your eyes had widened of their own accord, your body itching for the relief an orgasm would provide.

“That sound good angel? Can’t even answer me can you? My pretty baby is so lost in her own head. How bout we test it out?” He asked quietly with a little laugh, taking hold of your thin little shorts, scooping you up and pulling them off you in one swift movement. He settled you back down over his thigh again, your pussy bare and getting needier by the second.

“You’re wet already honey, God I love that about you. This pussy is always so ready for me. Fuckin’ live for it.” He whispered, holding you close. Both his hands were looped around your waist, resting on the small of your back, your bodies as close as possible. Your face found the crook of his neck, burying yourself in there, getting lost in the tickle of his beard against your cheek and the groan that slipped from him when your pretty lips landed on his skin.

Slowly, you pushed your hips back to rub yourself on his thigh, your wetness helping you slide nicely before rocking forwards again. A mewl slipped from your throat at how good the friction felt, teeth sinking into the flesh at Steve’s shoulder.

Steve was in Heaven. He didn’t think he would be so into this, given it wasn’t really stimulating him in any way but your little sounds were so unexpected and delicious he could feel his head swimming with lust.

With a little “ah,” you slid backwards again, your clit dragging over hard muscle in a way that you weren’t used to before slipping forward again, closer to your boyfriend.

“Steve, I need more.” You whimpered, clinging to his T-shirt, watching him with a needy expression and parted lips as you rolled your hips on his thigh. It took everything in Steve not to just cum in his pants at that moment. You were wanton and soaking him, your slick building on his thigh deliciously as you ground yourself down. Another cry left your mouth and he lost himself entirely, gripping your face in one hand to pull you into a searing kiss. Your movements sped up a little, your pussy throbbing with so much need, you worried you might burst. Your whimpers and whines were swallowed up by his mouth, hot and wet and sinfully insistent on your own. Eventually Steve pulled away, completely breathless to see your face, pupils blown out with lust, eyebrows knitted together with pleasure. You looked like a fucking picture, like some ideal, dirty little wife in a racy magazine from the 40’s. A Polaroid all the boys would’ve jeered at but secretly wished you were the girl they were coming home to at night. And you were all his.

“Stevie, please.” You whimpered, not sure what you were even asking for as your hands drifted to his shoulders, giving yourself leverage to fuck yourself against his meaty thigh.

“Oh baby I’m right here. No girl of mine should ever have to beg to cum, should be beggin’ me to stop makin’ you cum. Gonna help you angel.” His voice was light and soft, one hand cradling your face and the other splayed across the small of your back, helping you rut back and forth. Your eyes closed, foreheads pressed together, the tickle of his beard sending a shiver down your spine Steve manhandled you, gliding you over his slick thigh.

“Oh fuck baby, don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier sight. Shoulda done this earlier. You needa cum, don’t you angel? ‘S okay, want you to get yourself off right here. Such a pretty baby.” Steve cooed, watching how your brows knitted together tighter at his praise. You were loving this, perhaps more than he was and he was just obsessed.

Steve’s thigh tensed beneath you, firm rolls of muscle making you see stars as you worked yourself towards your high. Your slick was making such a mess and you didn’t even care. Nor did he.

“Stevie, I-I’m so close.” You whimpered, clinging to his shirt desperately as your hips ground of their own accord. The use of his nickname made him groan lowly, you were his girl. For the rest of your life, you’d be his girl. He knew he would marry you some day. Knew you’d be the mother of his children, knew you would grow old together but right now, all that mattered was this moment and the two of you being together.

“Come on angel, you look so fuckin’ pretty like this. My thigh is such a mess baby, you’re doing so well for me. My pretty girl, humpin’ me like she was made for it. You were made jus’ for me, weren’t ya? Nothin’ feels better than this sweet little body when you cum, no prettier sight in all the world than my girl gettin’ herself lost in pleasure.” His voice was a gruff whisper, lips ghosting over your neck and collarbones as his hand on your back sped up. The glide was unbearable, heavy groans mixed with whimpered cries leaving your lips as you stayed suspended right on the edge of your high.

Steve’s lips attached themselves to your neck “cum for me, pretty girl.” Murmured against your skin, his breath hot and heavy on your neck. On your next slide backward, you ground down just a little harder, your orgasm blossoming violently through your body, you were shaking, legs clamping around Steve’s thigh as he continued to move you with his hand on your back, letting you ride out your high.

“Oh shit baby, look at you, you’re gushing. That’s it pretty girl, cum nice and hard on me. Fuck you feel incredible. Wish I was buried ‘nside you, gettin’ to feel how you milk my cock.” Steve’s words only made your peak last that little bit longer, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as you whined and arched against him.

As your orgasm finally subsided, your breathing began to slow again, suddenly feeling very conscious of the mess you’d made on Steve.

“You okay honey?” Steve asked softly, stroking your hair lovingly, taking in how your face was so much more relaxed than it was when he had come into the study.

“Yeah baby, thank you.” You replied, feeling ever so slightly dazed and pliant after such an intense orgasm.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re an angel.” Steve smiled kissing your forehead, looking down when he felt your hands pawing at his cock through his shorts.

“Baby, you’re still on the clock.” He smiled teasingly, nodding his head towards the laptop screen.

“Only for another half hour… C-can I keep you warm while I go back to work?” You asked quietly, feeling slightly fuzzy still.

“Y-you wanna do that?” He asked, huge hands running up your bare thighs as you nodded.

“We can pick this back up in half an hour.” Your little mischievous smile made his heart melt.

“Anything for my best girl.” He smiled softly. You couldn’t help but giggle, getting up on shaky legs to retrieve the laptop and when you turned back around, Steve had untucked himself from his running shorts, cock standing proud and weeping as he gave himself a few firm tugs. Turning to press your back to his chest, you positioned yourself above him, sinking down onto his length with a groan from both of you.

“Oooh my God, you’re still clenchin’ honey.” Steve was breathless already, rutting as much as possible into your tight, soaked heat. Your velvety walls rippled around him while you perched the laptop on your knees, picking up on an email you had missed while you had been occupied.

Steve was squirming beneath you, kisses peppered against your neck, grunts escaping as his body rolled gently against yours, trying to push impossibly deeper.

“H-how much longer honey?” Steve groaned, fingers gripping the meat of your hips.

“Twenty eight minutes babe. Almost there.” You teased, rolling your hips down to meet his, loving how your huge boyfriend was coming apart beneath you. Lips pressed fervently to your neck as you typed, tiny grunts and groans slipping from him, counting down the seconds.

Taglist:

@justatirednightowl @littlecanadianlani

@badgirlwolfy

[lexiasmind]

The Compromise VII

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

PAIRING.

Dark!CEO!Steve Rogers x Reader.

SUMMARY.

Love. What is love?

Maybe a lie by omission to protect someone we care about? Or, the celebration of a wedding, reuniting two people together for life? Perhaps, an emotion that bothers you deep down by seeing someone disappear behind the fakness of their smile?

Love is complex. And it can be manipulated into a fucking nightmare by the worst man on Earth.

A/N.

Political Relationship/Marriage? AU. Dark AU.

This is DARK. ANGST. Sorry for the end...😅

Here it is, the seventh (woah 🤯) part of The Compromise Series. I still love writing this story! Even though I write it very slow... A little surprise at the end. I already know what my next long series will be about...As always, thank you very much for reading! Don’t hesitate to leave your thoughts, comments, and feedback.

P.S: Gifs aren’t mine, credits to the owners and makers.

A lots of Love! Lex!xx 💕💕

WORDS.3642ish.

Steve Rogers was a happy man. Christ, the man didn't touch the ground. He had everything he desired. He was about to merge his company with one of the richest of the country making him the head of the largest technology and research industry. And, with his already competent communication, entertainment and renewable energy department, Steve Rogers would become the most powerful man in the country maybe the world. Having the responsibility of bringing, creating, and selling everything from the newest high-tech computer to electric cars while owning one of the biggest entertainment conglomerate corporations. Nothing could stop him. No one could say no to him anymore. Steve would be now considered one of the living Devil of New York City. Powerful, wealthy, and affluent. Joining the likes of Jeff Bezos, Bill Gates, and also the late John D. Rockefeller. Intelligent. Philanthropist. Fiendish.   Yes, Steve Rogers had everything he desired and wanted. And now, all was well. Almost. Steve knew he had to make some concessions to gain in this political and business game. Even when he didn't like the outcome, he had to play the part. And by agreeing to make you his wife, the blond-man thought that it was the small price to pay.   Lying to you about his feelings with pretty words, manipulating you by moving your furniture out of your apartment, chasing you down to your hometown and forcing your hand by meeting your parents were actions that he was willing to do. He was ready to anything for you to sign, quickly. Gaslighting you with love wasn't an issue for him. Steve didn't believe in love but he knew you would. And, blending these petty feelings with some kernel of truth will do the trick. However, things weren't right. Since you came back from your parent's house and disappeared for the entire afternoon and a good portion of the night, you came back, changed. Different. The CEO of the most important company in the United State didn't know if it was a good or a bad thing.

" I can't wait for you to see my dress. My mom cried yesterday and today when she saw me. You should have seen her face, pure happiness. It makes me so happy to see her happy. She's so emotional, I don't know if it's a wedding or being here in the big city. She's not used to the noise, people, and, let's be honest, the filth. My dad is quieter. But I know he's coming around to the idea of the wedding. He's a good man. I can't wait for him to see me in this magnificent dress. Oh, Steve, I hope the cost won't be a problem for you. Let me remind you that you were the one who told me to buy anything I want. Besides,…"

You were a constant chatterbox. Positive, making light of everything about the wedding, the living arrangement, your resignation from the company. Gone was the woman who put out a fight even weak for defending what she believed in. There was no more questioning but only agreeing with anything Steve said. Like his word was law and you obeyed them like a good wife. Seating on the barstool at the kitchen counter, the blond-man watched you cleaning the dishes of your last dinner together. In two days, you will be a married couple, then Steve would go to Oslo and when he came back Tony would officially step out of his company to let the merging begin. Nothing would be the same. But it was already, not the same. Watching you, talking without listening, the blond-man focused his eyes on your frame. Harsh lines had begun to appear under your eyes since you came back, and he had also remarked your considerate weight loss. Having been brought up in the high society of the Upper East Side, Steve knew women could lose weight during a stressful time like their weddings but even though he hated to admit this to himself, deep down, Steve Rogers knew you. A wedding, even a small one, to someone who was a persistent ass to you wouldn't make you positively happy all the damn time. Maybe angry, resentful, or even sad.

" You wouldn't believe it. She had the same dress! " You exclaimed looking at him above your shoulders, eyes wide with mirth and surprise illuminating the  tired lines of your face. You turned your head away to rinse the last bowl. " Don't worry, they both keeping it. I think…" " Y/N. " Steve interrupted you, putting his hands on the cold marble table in front of him. " What? " You turned your body to lean against the sink, a small smile appeared on your lips. " I don't want you to go to your parent's hotel tomorrow. " The blond-man ordered you, frowning his deep blue eyes , looking closely at your face. " Why? " You inquired, puzzled by his demand, shaking your head slightly. " My mom had organized something special for me and her. She told me she wanted me there. Besides, you have your stag night tomorrow too. " You recalled, confused. " I know. " He answered simply crossing his fingers together on the table. " And I plan to enjoy myself as my last night of single man. But we both know that if I wanted to have sex with another woman now, during, or after the wedding I would. "

Biting your lower lips, Steve watched you drop your eyes to the kitchen floor, your hands started to shake next to you. You balled them into fists before crossing your arms on your chest.  

" What I don't want to, his you going to your mom…thing. " He continued calmly his eyes were bright under the halo of the light of the room. " You would stay and sleep here while I will probably fuck a stripper. The next morning I will send a car to drive you to the ceremony and in an hour we will be married. " Steve explained, leaning his upper body above the counter, looking at you, your head still turned to the floor. " Is it clear? "

Waiting. Steve hold his breath waiting. It took less than a minute for you. But, for the man, it seems like forever.

" Alright. " You glanced up a small smile on your face. " I will tell mum tomorrow and I will stay in the night before the wedding. " You turned on your heels turning your back to him and started to arrange some pieces of utensils that were still wet on the racks.

There weren't many things that could shock Steve Rogers. He wasn't shocked to learn about Buck and Sam's sexual and dark experience with women. He wasn't shocked when he found out how his father treated his mother after she cheat on him. But right now he was stunned. With quick and graceful movement, Steve stood up from his chair and walked around the counter to stand behind you. His hand on your forearms, he forced you to face him, letting the plate you were holding shatter inside the sink. Startled you let out a small cry before raising your sight to meet his blue one.

" What's wrong with you. " Steve breathed out his face  inches away from yours. He raised his hands to take hold of your face inside large fingers. His gaze searching yours, his confusion was quickly turning into irritation. " W-What do you mean? " You replied, puzzled but with a faint smile on your lips, forcing your fears and demons away. " Where is the girl who would fight me or even try to coerce me to spend time with her mother? Where is your anger, Y/N? " Steve frowned, tilting his head back, forcing you to look him in the eyes. " I-I don't know what you mean. " You replied in a small and quiet voice, shaking your head slightly showing your confusion and trying really hard to not remembered. You blinked several time to held back your tears. No, later. " Don't lie to me. " The blond-man hissed, his voice low. " I-I stopped the pill. " You answered quickly, licking your lips, watching him , his grasps becoming loose on your cheeks. " Maybe that’s why my hormones are in…" " Wait what? " Steve took a step back, his arms dropping down. Anger became puzzlement. " You stopped it? " He asked scowling. " Yes. " You nodded your head, your fingers playing with your bracelet at your wrist. " When we came back from my parents, I finished the last pack and didn't go to the drugstore to buy a new one. " You confirmed, raising your shoulders slightly, waiting expectantly for his reaction a small smile on your lips.

Taking another step back , Steve turned around to face the bay windows. The light of New York's highest building blinked back at him. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Steve closed his eyes hard. For once, his mind was empty and not thanks to sex.

" And you didn't think of telling me this. " He whispered under his breath, biting his lower lip. " No, but that's what you wanted. " You said bemuse, looking at his tense back.   " Right? " " No. " Steve sighed opening his eyes and thrusting his hands through his hair.   " That was never what I wanted. " He murmured before leaving the open area of the kitchen and started to climb the staircase of the penthouse.

°°°

Increasing the pression of the water to the maximum you walked back inside the large shower , pushing your back against the icy marble wall of the lavish cabin. Naked, you started to slowly drop to the floor, trembling slightly and waiting for the temperature of the room to heat up. Biting your lower lip, you glanced at the door, assuring yourself that it was closed shut through the fogginess that started to creep up on the glass and your teary eyes. Facing forward, and fully seated, you raised your legs, to hug your knees to your chest, crying quietly against your skin. It has been your routine for the past week and a half. Your only reprieve from the madness of your life. You sniffed putting your chin on your knees hugging your legs tighter. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think abo-…

" His or mine. What's the difference? " The bang of the door. The blinding light. No!

Closing your eyes, you started to rock your body, trying to calm your bursting emotions. Shame and deep sadness weigh heavy on your stomach. You let your tears fall on your cheeks, secretly hiding one of your profound secrets behind a close door, the shower stall rinsing away the evidence.

°°°

Steve felt the bed tipped beneath him as you lied down. The blond man turned his back to you facing the large bay windows as you made yourself comfortable under the cold sheets. Lights from the city that never sleeps were pouring inside the room casting dark shadows on the bare walls. Sighing deeply, Steve didn't know what to do with what he felt for the woman next to him. He never felt so torn and confused by all these emotions. He despised that. All his life, he tried to ignore them or avoided any situations that might make him feel that way. But you were tearing apart every resolution, decision, and rule he had made for himself. Sighing deeply, Steve turned around, troubled by the lights of the others Manhattan's skyscrapers to face the wall. Only to meet your gaze watching him, expectantly. Everything, since you came back from your hometown, had changed. You looked the same but you weren't you anymore. And Steve's observation was confirmed once again as you reached for him across the bed, a small smile curving on your lips, your eyes twinkled with the light coming from the windows. Your hand landed on his white shirt. Your fingers started to gently stroke his tone chest above the soft fabric. Steve rolled his eyes, trying not to react to your touch. But his body wasn't align with his mind as his cock started to get hard inside his boxer brief. For Christ's Sake! Taking your wrist in a swift motion of his fingers, he pushed your hand aside, shaking his head.

" Not tonight. " The blond - man closed his eyes breathing deeply and moved to lie on his back. His voice echoed inside the darkroom casting a cold atmosphere between you. " Tell me what I need to do. " Your voice sounded small to his ears, feeble and uncertain.

Steve turned his head to the side to look at you. You bite your lower lips waiting for his order. Your desire to please him was the only emotion that could suppress any distress and hurt you were feeling. Sex with Steve Rogers could make your mind empty of any thought. How ironic.

" I want my old Y/N back. " " To fuck me when I cry?  " You stated smirking and casting your eyes down on your hands resting on the mattress. " There she is. " Steve faintly smiled before resting his head down on his pillow, closing his eyes.  

You turned your back to him, crossing your arms on your chest, feeling hopeless.

" Goodnight Steve. "

°°°

Your dress was heavy and a little bit loose on the back. You caught your mom several times looking at the little space, frowning. She already tried to coerce you to eat during the dinner but you couldn't eat anything. All your energy since the start of the day was focused on avoiding that man. You wouldn't be able to contain your emotion if your eyes meet his cold ones. Especially the day of your wedding.

" Everything was lovely, Y/N. " Pepper, Tony's wife, smiled at you sipping her glass of champagne. " The ceremony, your dress, this venue. " She sighed looking around her at the priceless and numerous painting display on the walls of the room. " I can't believe you succeeded to snatch a date at The Frick and on short notice. " She beamed, visibly impressed. " I had a lot of luck. " You smiles tightly, feeling your limbs growing heavy with exhaustion.

The day had been long. Between avoiding someone, trying to calm yourself and your parents while monitoring that everything goes smoothly, the ceremony, the photos, the food…

" She's so modest. " An arm slowly encircle you from behind, gently pushing your body against a firm chest.  

And Steve.

" But before accepting to be my lovely wife, Y/N was my very competent assistant. She knows all the important people of New York. " The blond-man continued pushing his head above yours, his fingers stroking gently your stomach.

You smiled tilting your face to look at him adoringly. Pepper's smile grew on her face as Steve put asoft kiss on your lips. Giving you privacy, the blond woman walked back toward the tables where people were installed. Some were strolling around looking at the painting, others were still eating, seating at the tables expensively decorated for the occasion. A few were watching you. The happy couple who a couple hours ago, said I do's. Pushing your lips firmly against his own, you tried to deepen the kiss however he moved his face away nuzzling your nose with his before leaning his face up. You felt the coldness creeping inside your core as Steve's looked away to meet the gaze of the new person coming your way. Even though an unspoken agreement passed between you to act "crazy in love" when people were around you, the weird, cold and odd tension that crept between you since the night you told him about your pill didn't pass. No, it increased changing your already strange relationship into a co-existing partnership.

" Kent! " Steve nodded at the man stopping in front of you, he shook the hand of the tall, dark-haired whose amused blue eyes was turned towards you. You smiled at him despite your true desire to hide far away from here. " Rogers. " The man nodded smiling at you. 

Something was off with him. Something with his eyes bugged you and made you feel at ease.

" How an ugly face like you, made this woman accept to spend the rest of her life with you? " He inquired, dubious, frowning slightly. " With love. " Steve shrugged, he slightly and slowly put his body in front of yours, eyeing the man with irritation. " When did you arrive? " " A few minutes ago, I'm standing in for my father. " The dark-haired man explained, pushing his hands inside the pockets of his smart suit. " Daddy dearest sends his apology but being a Duke is more important than attending a small reception in the capital of the world. " He slowly smiled. " You're a Duke? " You asked dubious,  curiosity picking your interest. " I'm Clark. " Was his only answer tilting his head to the side to look at you behind Steve's imposing frame. " And you must be the lovely bride that my dear best friend hide from his own friend group. " " Y/N. " You smile faintly, still feeling uncomfortable by his gaze.

You were not surprised by his presence. You didn't knew half of the people that were invited to your wedding. Steve Sr's assistant had handled the invitation for the Rogers family. And as you promised yourself to stay away from this man, you found yourself in this peculiar position to smile and act in front of people who were so rich and elegant that their last names were plastered on the oldest and most important buildings on the East Coast. But a Duke's son? Steve tilted his body to the side almost hiding you from the sight of Clark who only laugh in front of his friend behavior.

" Come on, now, Steve. You used to share. " " Not. My. Wife. " The blond-man enunciated through gritted teeth.  

You felt warmth blossom inside your heart. Wife. You were his wife now. Not his assistant, not just someone with who he spent his nights. But his wife. Clark laughed once again. The sound boomed inside the room making several heads turn your way.

" Marriage does change a man, after all. " The dark-haired man chuckled, his blue eyes were illuminated with the soft warm spots of the room, delight and amuse. " Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to make a toast. " A loud grave voice announced above the many conversations.

Your back grew rigid and your bones chilled with fear.

" See you in Oslo, Rogers. " Clark said to his friend but winked at you before stepping back toward the tables.

You turned your face toward the man whose only presence repulse you only to meet the same shade of blue eyesight that winked at you a couple of seconds ago. Is it possible?

" S-Steve…? " You started to whisper only to be stop as your husband's fingers grasped your waist strongly.

A warning.

Your smile grew on your face as you tried not to flinch under the pain and the memories.

" Not now. Not here. " Steve murmured inside your ear, his sight turned toward his father standing, micro in hand before he put a soft kiss on your temple. " I would like to say a few words. " Steven Sr announced to the crowd, looking at everyone.

When his eyes landed on you, a small smile appeared at the corner of his lips before he turned his eyes away . You raised your hand to hug Steve close to your side, burying your cheek against his firm chest. Steve started to caress your as he feel you tremble beneath him. Frowning he looked down to watch you close your eyes briefly before setting them on his father who started his speech. A smile was painted on your face but in your eyes, Steve could see the despair and anguish.

"… was a special occasion. But unfortunately, the health of my wife prevented her to come and join us today. "

At the mention of his mom, Steve's eyes met his father's stare, cold like ice.

" However, as parents of our successful son, we are pleased to see him happy." The patriarch continued, a small smile tugging his lips. " Today, he chose to marry the woman he love, making me and my wife proud. " He nodded then turned his cold eyes toward you. " Y/N, " his smile grew on his lips, his voice softer. " We are also happy that from today you joined our family assuring the Rogers name a bright and long future ahead. " He added tilting his head towards you.

A tight lip smile appeared on your mouth while you pressed your body against Steve.

" Our ancestor came in power when this country was only land, savages, and gold. " Steven went on, his gaze traveling on every face in the room. " We made this country, we took control, rein in and develop this country. The Rogers family comes to power from nothing and through, coal, mines, gold, train, the newspaper then television, production, technological development, and resources, we made the United States of America. We are the United Stated of America. " He smiled with conviction, purpose, and determination before raising his glass. " So everyone, please, join me and raise your glass to the couple who  promise themselves to each other today. To our family, the Rogers, powerful in the past, present, and future. To America, who have always been great and strong. " He finished off, branding his glass of brandy above his head, content and all smile.

You saw Steve's father animated with passion and devotion for his words. Light brightening his eyes, his face flush with vigor and enthusiasm, pleased by the applause of his public. Steve and you joined him raising your glasses of champagne. But before you could take a sip as everyone else, you saw the expression on Steve Sr face.  The old man hadn't finished ruining your life. 

" And of course, congratulations to the couple. " The patriarch added, his voice still loud even though the clap of your guests died down. " To the new addition to our family! Make us proud with son! " He cried out before tipping down the content of his glass in his mouth, tipping his head back.

Fuck!

°°°

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