#and most recently got roofied and assaulted

[tyzias-ennnntykk]

i think the reason i like Vriska as a character despite her being, yaknow, kinda objectively the worst, is because shes like what i woulda become if id given into my traumas.

like if i just resigned myself to them, said "welp this is how fucked the world is, might as well become fucked up myself to cope" as i wanted to in my darkest moments, id probably be right there with vriska. thinking im "helping" people by manipulating them into getting tougher for said fucked up world. basically an abusive trainwreck.

and people can judge, and think im awful for saying that i could have been that, but lemme tell ya, after a certain level of trauma, you'd see it too. you get so fucking exhausted from the fucked up world, you kinda just wanna give into the darkness. there is no special magical goodness in your heart that stops it either. i have goodness in my heart, but in those moments, you dont. the only thing youve got to fight back against it is stubbornness really.

anyways i dont consider vriska a "did nothing wrong" character by any stretch, but i DO think i cant blame her for being the way she is after all she went through. all that separates me from that is a single moment of weakness after all.

[moonstruckme]

Hi! You are such a good writer!! Totally fine if you don’t want to be write this because it can be triggering, but I was recently roofied (nothing happened physically but I did have to go to the hospital, I’m ok now) and it would be nice to see either a steddie or poly!marauders fic on how they would react to it happening to their girl. More focusing on the aftermath and mental issues… again if this is too trigger please don’t feel bad about not writing it. I would also just love a basic comfort fic <3

Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry that happened to you. I've had it happen to a couple of my friends while we've been out (thankfully nothing happened with them either and we were able to get them home safe, but it's so terrifying regardless), and it's insane that it happens so frequently. I hope you're feeling better my love and are seeking any support you need <33

cw: non-consensual drug use, mentions of drinking, no sexual assault but general talk of rape culture

Steddie x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

No part of you is comfortable right now, but you’re trying to tell yourself it could be worse.

The IV in your arm is itchy, your head is starting to hurt, you feel cold and exposed in the outfit you’d worn to the bar, and your throat is sore from forcing yourself to be sick repeatedly on the curb. 

You want to cry, but you’re not sure you’ve got the energy left to do it. 

It turns out you do, though, because as soon as the nurse pulls back the curtain to let Steve and Eddie into the little area you’ve been given, your cheeks wet themselves with tears. 

“Hey,” Eddie coos, nearly picking you up off the bed in his eagerness to have you in his arms. “Hey, baby, how ya doing?”

“Hey,” you try to say back, but the sound is garbled by a sob. You’re trembling again. You thought you’d gotten past that. 

Steve crouches by your bed, eye-to-eye with you as he smoothes some sticky pieces of hair away from your face. You’re not sure if they’re wet with sweat or vomit or something else. You try to stop it, but another sob escapes you, your chest like a cracked shell Eddie’s trying to hold together with his hands on your back. You appreciate it, but it’s a feeble attempt. You’re crying like a child now, shoulders shaking, face hot with tears as you cover it with your hand embarrassedly. 

“Take it easy, you’re alright,” Steve says, then hesitates, giving you a once-over. “You’re okay, aren’t you? I know you said on the phone nothing happened, but…”

You shake your head, sniffling but trying to pull yourself together. “It didn’t.”

Eddie lets you go, and Steve rolls his eyes as you scooch over to make room for him on the tiny bed. “What happened then, sweet thing?” he asks gently.

Any composure you’d worked up crumples, and a whimpering sound tears from the back of your throat in your efforts to keep from bursting into tears again. 

“Give her a minute,” Steve murmurs, rubbing your back with slow, long strokes. He takes your IV tube in his hand, carefully working it out from under where you’d accidentally sat on top of it. “It’s okay, honey, take your time.” 

The frightening part of it is, you’ve already forgotten most of it. Your friends had to be the ones to tell you that you’d been with them the whole time, that no one had left you alone and nothing had happened. That you’d scraped your knees on the sidewalk outside, not in some dark alleyway, and that they’d been the ones to drive you to the hospital, not some random guy once he’d finished with you. 

You shudder, and Eddie mistakes it for a shiver, taking off his jacket to drape it over your shoulders. “Thanks,” you say. The smile he gives you in return is far from happy, but it’s something. 

“I don’t remember everything,” you warn them, and some of the blood leaves Eddie’s face as Steve’s mouth flattens stoically, nodding for you to go on. You force yourself to take a deep breath. “Um, I know I’d had a couple drinks, but I was feeling fine, and then I had one more and everything started to seem off within like, twenty minutes? I couldn’t really walk, and I could barely talk, and that’s not what three drinks do to me, you know?”

You look to Steve for confirmation, and he squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “Right. We’ve seen you after a few drinks, honey. That doesn’t add up.” 

You nod, feeling a bit more sure of yourself. “Yeah. Anyway, then Ananya said I told her I felt weird, and she took me outside to get some air and I made myself throw up outside the bar. And I guess I got everything out of my system, because when I got here they said—” You clear your throat, fighting against the blockage there. “They said it could have gotten a lot worse if I hadn’t.” 

Eddie rests his head on your shoulder with a sigh, hair tickling your neck. “Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry. Do you have any idea who might’ve done it?”

You shrug with the other shoulder, and Eddie intertwines his fingers with yours comfortingly. “I mean, a group of guys bought that third round for me and my friends, so it could’ve been them. But then it’s weird that I’m the only one who got roofied, right?” Eddie’s hand tightens on yours, and something hardens in Steve’s eyes. “Could’ve been the bartender, too, I guess. I was paying attention to my drink, and they’re the only ones who had their hands on it, but…” you shrug again. “No proof, and no way to know for sure.” 

Steve’s voice is low, but soft for your benefit, when he asks, “You sure you don’t want to try to do anything about it?”

That’s one thing you’ve had all night to mull over, the one thought you forced your unnaturally sluggish brain to work through. You shake your head. “I think I’m gonna call the bar tomorrow and tell them what happened just in case it was their bartender, but right now I just want to go home.” 

Eddie makes a sympathetic sound, turning his head to nuzzle at your neck affectionately. Steve reaches over to pat his leg, smiling at the both of you. “I asked the nurse on our way in, she said you’re free to go as soon as your IV is done,” he promises. “She said you’ll have a hangover from whatever they gave you, too, so I’m thinking we can pick up some gatorade and stuff on our way home and have a chill day on the couch, sound good?”

You give him a tired smile, and he cups your face in his palm, a slight crease forming between his brows as he assesses your red-rimmed eyes, the circles beneath them. “My head is already kind of hurting,” you admit, “so that sounds perfect.” 

He hums. “We’ve probably got a little while until they can unhook you,” he says, eyeing your IV bag. “Wanna try and sleep?”

You hesitate, recalling with abrupt clarity the scrape of pavement under your knees, the lights going by your window on the way to the hospital, the mantra that had played in your head over and over again: don’t fall asleep, don’t fall asleep. But Eddie’s head is a reassuring weight on your shoulder, and Steve begins stroking his thumb under your aching eyes as he waits for you to answer. You’re nowhere safer than with them beside you. “You’ll stay with me?” you ask quietly. 

Eddie scoffs, his breath tickling the underside of your chin. “Sweetheart, you scared the shit out of us tonight; we’re never letting you out of our sight again.”

[eva-knits12]

My take on Danny Masterson's sentence.

Trigger warning: rape and sexual assault.

I try to avoid celebrity gossip and the drama that surrounds it, but sometimes, you just can't avoid it. The Danny Masterson sentence is one of these things that we just can't avoid, and what happened, and the celebrities and the church of Scientology defending his actions is just wrong on so many levels, I don't know where to begin.

Unless you've been living under a rock, you heard that actor Danny Masterson was recently sentenced to 30 years to life in prison for sexually assaulting women. Now, we don't always know 100% of the details. We may even write this off as that there are two sides to every story. We may even give these people a pass because "it was a one time thing," "he or she made a mistake", "if you don't vocally consent, then it's not rape," etc. We've all heard these excuses, and they are enough to piss me off.

Now, I have experienced sexual harassment in my teens, but I will not go into detail about that. It was wrong, but I was in my teens. As an adult, I recognize that it was wrong on so many levels, but my parents and I did what we felt was right, and reported it to school authorities, who just swept it under the rug. If this happened to me today, I would be getting the legal system involved.

With Danny Masterson's victims, how much do we really know? I'm pretty sure that there was a lot more that happened privately that was eventually made public. If I'm not mistaken, some of these victims may have been under the age of legal consent, which is 16 in most states.

One of his victims was an ex-girlfriend who reported it to the Church of Scientology. What did they do? They made her look like the bad guy, while he got away with raping her scot-free. She didn't go to the police because with that cult, you NEVER go to law enforcement. The sick part was a lawyer for the church said that it wasn't rape since they were in a relationship, and she had consented. Danny had violated her bodily autonomy and he may have possibly used a roofie, or some other drug. I say possibly because as I have already stated, we don't know 100% of the details. Only two people know what really happened, and there was a good chance that she was drugged.

For a while, all of these victims were either intimidated into silence, or bullied into silence by the church of Scientology. When they finally worked up the courage to go to the authorities and report it, it may have been too late. I'm not sure what the law regarding rape and sexual assault is in California, because I sure don't live there. I live in suburban Detroit, where the laws regarding rape and sexual assault are way different. By the time the victims finally reported Danny Masterson to the authorities, they had left the Church of Scientology, so when they left, the statute of limitations had already run out.

The first victim held Danny accountable. The sick part? His wife, Bijou Phillips stood by him blindly! If I were in that position, my first thought would be to take my child or children and run for the hills, then file for divorce! They also have a child, a daughter I think, and what lesson does that teach her? Does she think what Daddy did to these women is normal? Does she think that it's normal for Mommy to be defending this sick man? Does she have any stronger male and female role models in her young life who can model what true strength is and give her that much needed discussion about consent?

When more victims spoke out, and well after the authorities were involved, Danny was finally arrested. The victims feel vindicated, more so now that he is in jail. Finally, he is being punished by law for his actions. The sick part? The Church of Scientology still defends his actions.

His friends who are not in Scientology or even associated with the cult, are defending him. I'm not sure if they're being paid off by his team, and they are just as sick as he is for defending him. Some of those defending him are women, which just makes this situation even sicker!

My personal take is that Danny Masterson is a rapist and a predator. Cut and dry. I hope his victims are seeking therapy because they are going to need it in order to move forward and move on with their lives.

Everyone was shocked when he was fired from his Netflix show when all of these allegations came out, and I wouldn't be surprised if he is now blacklisted from Hollywood. We all know of Bill Cosby, who had the exact same fate as Danny Masterson. I mentioned that Danny Masterson is a Scientologist, and that the church defended his actions.

We all watched That '70's Show. We all related to those characters because we all knew those characters and were one of those characters. I related to Eric, and we all knew an Eric, a Donna, a Jackie, a Kelso, a Hyde, a Fez, a Laurie, a Rhett, a Kitty, a Midge, and a Bob in high school. I admit that I watched That '70's Show, and I kept watching it. It was a quirky, funny teen show, and it was much different than Dawson's Creek.

Danny Masterson and the cult he is in are NOT above the law. Nobody is above the law.

[mvtk42]

I recently got involved in a book club in my town, and for the most part I enjoy it - it's run in a combination bookstore and bar, and the vibes are immaculate. It's been a lot of fun reading both good and bad books, then talking about them over an alcoholic beverage with others.

The book we'll be talking about next week is The Ritual by Shantel Tessier, and to say I'm infuriated I've contributed monetarily to this author is the kindest thing I can say about this book so far, and I can't wait until next week to bitch about it.

TW: DISCUSSION OF DEPICTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT TOUTED AS DARK ROMANCE.

It's like Tessier took the worst parts of Twilight and 50 Shades of Grey and went, "Y'know what, I bet I can miss the point of BDSM EVEN HARDER."

Every sex scene so far is a poorly-disguised rape apologist fantasy. If Tessier has ever heard of Safe, Sane, and Consensual, she hit it over the head with a stout club and dragged it out behind the shed to shoot it. The concept of aftercare is given the same consideration a worrying amount of the country gives vaccines: disregarded where not outright disparaged.

The book's concept is, "What if women volunteered to be sex slaves for the Illuminati?" The book takes great pains to point out women must volunteer for this servitude - except the FMC had never heard of this group, was not at all involved in it, yet was still given to the MMC without her knowledge or consent. Then the MMC begins stalking her, at one point sitting in his car in the parking lot of her apartment building jerking off to watching her while she has no idea he's there. Classy.

It turns out the FMC's boyfriend is also part of this group (not that she knows that) and was given another woman. He doesn't even do her the kindness of breaking up with her bedore gallivanting off with this other woman, and the heartbreak of betrayal and the author's sophomoric understanding of mommy issues cause FMC to lose all respect for herself and allow herself to be used as a cum rag under the misconception she's "finally making her own choices."

I don't know about you, but when I'm mad at my mom, my answer is not to roofie myself by drinking a random bottle of liquid someone broke into my apartment to leave on my nightstand.

Then the MMC breaks back into her apartment to finger her while she's senseless. He would've sexually assaulted her with his dick, but the Illuminaughty says he can't fuck her until she takes a vow.

Like, I understand CNC is a valid kink, but she had no idea what the liquid was, nor did she know ol' boy was gonna come do stuff to her. She was never given the opportunity to knowingly consent, because drinking random shit (while displaying the survival instincts of a helium balloon in a cactus orgy) is NOT consent.

The scene that made me put the book down to type all this out was when FMC finally gives her vow - not that she has any idea what she's agreeing to, cuz no one explains it to her. MMC uses police-issue handcuffs on her, purposefully tightens them way too tight, half-drowns her in a Slut-Shame Baptism (to "wash away the touch of other men," even though FMC is a virgin and MMC knows this), then violently shoves his dick in her mouth for the benefit of the audience.

Once she's gargled his Good Time Goo, MMC drags her out to the back of the building, and as she's begging him to take the handcuffs off because she's in pain, he shoves her underwear in her mouth and prepares to go to town because now he's finally allowed to fuck her pussy.

At that point my face was aching from the expression of appalled disgust it'd been locked in for the past hour and I needed a break. Like, I get that this is supposedly dark romance, and it'd be one thing if these sexual assaults were depicted as that - or even if the FMC had some reaction to them other than "Tra la la these are just things that happen I guess tee hee wow my pussy sure is wet." But so far this is literally just the author saying over and over again, "Women sure do love getting raped," and it's disgusting.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: Nirvana in Fire, Episode 04

(Masterpost) (Pinboard)

Warning! Spoilers for all 54 episodes!

Schemes in Progress:

Mu Nihuang’s Marriage//Martial Arts Competition: Mei Changsu has a foolproof plan for defeating the lead contender, Baili Qi, who is the only contender who can actually beat Nihuang to win her hand. His plan appears to involve having small children beat the mighty warrior. In fact his plan is way simpler and more delightful than that, but I’ll discuss the specifics in a later post. It’s politically important to defeat Baili Qi, not just personally, because he represents a potential enemy state. 

Mu Nihuang’s Marriage//Sima Lei: The Crown Prince and his mom, Consort Yue, want to force Nihuang to marry their dude Sima Lei. The plan is to use Roofie Wine on her. Consort Jing gets wind of this plan and gets a counter-plan rolling. 

Getting Tingsheng Out Of The Palace: Mei Changsu uses the anxiety caused by Baili Qi’s badassery to get the Emperor to agree to his ridiculous kid-training plan, and then makes sure Tingsheng, the secret son of the late Prince Qi, is one of the kids he gets to train. 

Put Jingyan on the Throne: This scheme gets rolling, with a general pattern of Mei Changsu & team doing whatever they can to sink the leading contenders for the throne, which gives Jingyan an opportunity to rise up. The leading contenders tend to cooperate in their own sinking because they are ruthlessly ambitious, and Mei Changsu designs his plans to take advantage of that. 

Banquet Battle

After thoroughly disarming and whomping Jingrui, Baili Qi finishes by flinging Jingrui’s sword into the floor right in front of him. 

Jingrui, who hoped to literally cripple Baili Qi in this fight, has the nerve to be affronted by this. 

(More behind the cut!)

Baili Qi shows his impeccable barbarian manners, giving the Emperor a nice gesture of respect that is presumably local to Northern Yan. Meanwhile, Mei Changsu and Nihuang are snarking quietly at their table like a couple of high schoolers.

Mei Changsu pretends to be embarrassed when the Emperor tells them to share their joke with the whole class, but of course it’s always a scheme, with him. 

He and Nihuang explain to everyone that they were just chatting about how Baili Qi is great and all, but that Mei Changsu could train some small amateur children to beat his bitch ass, given a couple of days to teach them to run in a circle. 

The emperor thinks this is a good plan, and gets right on board with it. 

This is not actually because the emperor is an idiot, however, although Prince Yu clearly thinks so. 

The emperor IS an idiot, but on this occasion I think he has correctly deduced that Mei Changsu has some kind of shady plan in mind, and he is 100% in favor of shady plans, if they work to his benefit. 

Consort Bestie

Jingyan’s mom Consort Jing is hanging out in the palace, and meets up with her girlfriend bestie, Imperial Concubine Hui. Historically, the Emperor’s collection of women was divided into ranks; how many ranks was different for different periods. In NIF, Consort Jing and I.C. Hua belong to the “outer palace” and the Empress and Consort Yue belong to the “inner palace” because they rank higher. The Empress likes to pick on  IC Hua, and has sent her to light a bunch of candles in a haunted palace.

Consort Jing goes with her because they are girlfriends besties, and because she is a consistently nice person who deserves all the good things in the world. Spoiler: Both of these women survive, they stay friends, things work out well for both of them and for their sons. Go ahead and root for them! 

Because the haunted palace belongs to the late Empress, mother of the Emperor and of Grand Princess Liyang, these BFFs are ideally placed to overhear some important scheming, involving some drugged wine that’s been sitting around in this part of the compound for like 30 years. 

They realize that someone is planning to sexually assault a woman by using this drugged wine, and Nihuang is the obvious candidate, since her marriage plans are all anyone’s talking about now. Consort Jing tells Concubine Hua to forget all about this and not get involved in palace drama, but she immediately gets to work intervening in the situation herself. 

Training 

Over at the Xie guesthouse, Mei Changsu is training the kiddies in a special sword formation designed to beat Baili Qi. They sure do have pretty sword forms for a bunch of kids who have never held a sword. Also, someone’s chalk skills are off the chain.

Mei Changsu tells Fe Liu that they have to be faster, so Fe Liu tells them “go faster” and they do, which is apparently the essence of learning martial arts. 

Mu Nihuang shows up and sees right through all of this, making it clear she needs a miracle to get her out of this unwanted marriage. Mei Changsu tells her that he’s got it covered. She says that she believes him, although she’s not sure why. 

Then they stand there gazing heatedly at each other, like you do when you are two random people who have never met until recently, and definitely have never gotten each other off even a little bit. 

Embroidery Flexing

Meanwhile, Consort Jing sets out to save Nihuang from the wine/marriage plot, through the power of embroidery. 

In order to do this she has to make embroidered scent sachets for the Dowager Empress, the Empress, the Grand Princess, and Consort Yue, which she does before going to bed for the night, apparently. Consort Jing kicks ass. 

She makes sure that the Dowager Empress, who is a sweetheart, will be pleased enough with her sachet that she will invite Consort Jing into the room, which will give her an opportunity to present the actually important sachet to Grand Princess Liyang. 

Communication was complicated, before cell phones. 

Once they’re alone, Consort Jing tells Grand Princess Liyang about the plot to force Nihuang to marry Sima Lei. She tells her in the most round-about, triggery way possible, because she needs Liyang to have a flashback, I guess? Otherwise we wouldn’t get to watch her own Mom drugging her to force her to marry Xie Yu. 

Thanks, Mom, I’d be happy to drink this cup of obvious poison. Mom is terrible but her crown is awesome. 

Anyway, once Liyang knows what’s up, she’s on board with team Save Nihuang From Having To Marry A Creep Like My Own Husband.

Clean-shaven Xie Yu: even creepier than regular Xie Yu and also very shiny. Beautiful costume, though. Why are they dressing the flashback villains so nicely? 

Side note: presumably Liyang and her mom didn’t know she was already pregnant when they brought Xie Yu into the mix? Because if they had known, she would probably have been fine with just, like, consenting to marry someone or other, to keep her reputation intact. Anyway it’s worth noting that this whole situation is about appearances, not about whether anyone is actually a literal virgin. 

The Laughing Prince

Jingyan comes for a visit to see how the training is going, and he and Mei Changsu have a sitdown. Mei Changsu tells him that he’s come to town to make sure that the two main contenders for the throne don’t get it, and that he’s going to work to make Jingyan the next emperor. 

Then they stand there gazing at each other, like strangers who definitely have never gotten each other off even a little bit. 

Then Jingyan laughs at him

Jingyan thinks it’s impossible that he would ever be emperor, but he’s happy to go along with Mei Changsu’s plans if it will keep his jerk brothers from winning. 

Building Team Jingyan

Late at night, Meng Zhi drops by to look at Tingsheng and say that he resembles Prince Qi, which he totally doesn’t, but Chinese dramas really don’t worry about casting people who resemble each other to play twins or whatever, so we can take Meng Zhi’s word for it. 

They talk about the Make-Prince-Jing-The-Emperor plan, with Meng Zhi wanting to help out, and Mei Changsu wanting to make sure that only his own hands get dirty with all the schemey stuff he’s planning. 

Hu Ge is really good at talking directly to the camera without looking into the lens. It’s a good technique for intense moments and because he doesn’t look straight into the lens, it doesn’t break the fourth wall. 

Building Team Nihuang

Liyang has spent the day trying to warn Nihuang about the roofie wine situation, but can’t reach her due to a lack of cell phones and/or embroidery skills. 

So she takes the daring step of going to Mei Changsu’s guest house--on her own dang property--which is such a high risk endeavor she has to wear a fancy cloak and cary a super obvious fancy lantern.  God forbid a woman walk around her own house at night.  Anyway, she’s able to pass the warning to Mei Changsu, and asks him to pass it to Nihuang. 

Of course that’s when her husband comes knocking, presumably looking for some affection--he actually is a nice husband who genuinely loves his wife, within the context of a society in which rape is perfectly fine, anyway. 

Her junior servants are freaked out, because visiting a man, even your own houseguest, alone at night is not perfectly fine, so if he catches her, they’re all dead, basically. But the elder servant tells them to chill and just watch how she handles it. 

She politely tells Xie Yu that his wife was reminded of their first date, and so maybe he should leave her and her feelings and her sharp hairpins and whatnot alone for a while. (I’m inferring the hairpins.) He looks slightly terrified and immediately withdraws. 

[lol-jackles]

austinite opinion on the Ackles leaving this godforsaken city —

if I were jensen I would take my family and leave too. Austin has had its issues over several years and the infrastructure can’t take the strain of its population much longer, and then covid was added on top. their kids are getting older and even a rich kid’s school options suck. the traffic is just straight up dangerous w/ very high rates of drunk driving and weird aggressive stuff, its like a vehicular manslaughter competition even in nice residential areas. What’s the point in having a nanny take the kids for the day if you’re worrying they’ll get hit by a truck on a crosswalk on the way to the park????

the city’s terrible policies on homelessness mean even in upscale neighborhoods theres problems related to people camping or dumping trash and a lot of weird violence and mental health crises, and the city has resources for probably only 15% of its homeless population and the mayor and gov are eager to make decisions that make the problem worse like they’re hoping homeless people will just die off. in 2018 the entire county’s water supply was //full of rotting clams// and was unusable for a week, and then in the ice storm this year the state’s privatized power grid failed, and even the padaleckis had bursting pipes and dead animals.

6th St and Rainey St are garbage and violent and tbh I’m surprised it’s taken this long to trigger a mass shooting like the recent one on 6th, not to mention it’s more public that there are high rates of sexual assault downtown and at UT and the DA just…doesn’t attempt to prosecute at all.

Jared’s roofied scuffle on 6th looks shocking from an outside POV but if you’re local it’s mundane. And I do think he was roofied, I showed the videos to a family member with a law enforcement background and he agreed. whether he was or not, that kind of crap happens two or three dozen times a night downtown thurs-sat and there were extra cops downtown that night bc it was halloween and extra crazy. Local people mostly got a kick out of it happening to jared like it was a down to earth kinda thing.

I know it doesn’t seem like privileged people should gaf or be affected by most of this but it sucks the fun out of anywhere you go here unless you gtfo out of the city (which is why the brewery is actually in a great location, right on the main route to big day tripping attractions) like yeah, theres all this quirky stuff to do in Austin but when a gay couple is nearly beat to death on open popular Rainey St and a homeless guy throws himself off a restaurant on SoCo during lunch rush it’s a fucking bummer.

And then you add covid and police violence on top of all that, and all the tourism/SXSW/ACL revenue and entertainment is tanked and that definitely derailed some of the Ackles’ plans, like the B&B they bought. but even if 2020 was a normal year those events are so congested now they aren’t very enjoyable even if you’re VIP.

but property taxes are the main thing: before they sold the lake house, tax laws about lakeshore property changed— previously it was barely taxed if at all bc of an old law from when no one wanted to build on the lakeshore like 40 yrs ago. Suddenly that untapped property tax potential is under a political microscope and I was like, I bet the Ackles will move and the Padaleckis won’t bc their property isn’t on the lake…and within a year the Ackles sold the lake house. absolutely not a coincidence.

so regardless of the state of their marriage (I really don’t buy what’s said about their marriage) austin isn’t what it was 10-15 years ago. They probably shouldn’t come back lol

Colorado is not far behind being turned into a shithole thanks to the Democrats running the state.  Whenever Democrats control a city it always turns into a shithole.

"How Decades Of Democratic Rule Ruined Some Of Our Finest Cities" https://www.investors.com/politics/editorials/how-decades-of-democratic-rule-ruined-some-of-our-finest-cities/

[soahappylowman]

Boundaries ch. 7 (Happy Lowman)

Summary: Happy’s in charge of protecting a camgirl from Diosa Words: 2702, yikes (don’t get use to this, i suck) Warning: There is talk about sexual assault, and mild sexually suggestiveness Notes: bruuuuhhhh, I am SO SORRY, and I know that doesn’t mean much because y’all waited... months. I’m so sorry, between pandemic and work, I had some personal things happen and I had to move. I usually like to stay a chapter ahead and I’ve just been too demotivated to write. I’m going to put more effort into writing again, but at a manageable pace. I’m so sorry about any errors or pacing problems, I’m still working through it. I think my goal is to release the whole thing, then go back and edit. I really appreciate some of the love shown recently, and those that stuck around. If you want in on the tag list, lmk. 

----

Happy didn’t follow Tessa right away. Instead, he was staring at the spot that she was just standing, confused. He wasn’t sure why but that whole exchanged seemed like a betrayal. He shouldn’t feel like that, he didn’t know Tessa all that well, let alone had any loyalty to her. Happy frowned deeper, but decided to leave this subject behind him, even if his hand was tingling from where she was holding it.

When he finally came out to the parking lot, Tessa was just reaching his bike. She was rocking back and forth in her cowgirl boots and her arms crossed over her chest. The golden sun hour reflected across her long hair, illuminating the deep red hints in her hair. Happy sighed deeply, again feeling conflicted.

“Where are we going?” Tessa didn’t look at him as she addressed him.

“Don’t have a plan.” Happy approached the bike and picked up the helmet for Tessa.

“Well, I haven’t eaten all day. We can go to a little coffee shop in Lodi I tend to frequent.” Tessa grabbed his helmet from his hand and then mounted the back of the bike behind him. Happy simply nodded.

“Tell me where to go.” Tessa settled in behind him, although Happy noticed she didn’t sit as close as the first time she got on his bike, he tried not to be disappointed.

-----

Happy held out a hand for her to dismount, even though she definitely knew how as he’s seen her do it a couple times already. He tried not to feel so self-satisfied when she grabbed onto his hand anyways.

Happy looked up at the establishment in front of him and nearly groaned. He should’ve thought about letting her pick a place for them, but he didn’t and now he’s sitting in front of some girly ass coffee shop. He tried not to roll his eyes as Tessa excitedly bounced into the building.

Walking into the building was no better either. The color palette included pastel purple, pink and blue. Happy felt beyond out of place, but didn’t say anything as Tessa approached the counter. Happy got to appreciate her once again as she lifted her hips onto the counter and bent forward, looking for a worker. In a flash, Happy imagine what it would be like if she were    naked and he bent her over the counter, wrapped her long hair around his fingers as he – nope. Stop. This isn’t what he came here for. He definitely needed to get laid tonight. Still, Happy could appreciate what a good body looked like. He could feel his dick twitch in his pants.

Pretty soon, the distraction he needed came in form of a young man coming from the back room.

“Hey, welcome to – Tessa? Oh my god, where have you been?” Happy’s eyes narrowed at the man that approached Tessa with enthusiasm. He looked to be about Tessa’s age, hair a deep brown with it shorter on the sides than on the top. Approximately 5’11”, lean, slightly muscular but those muscles were for show, Happy could tell. Happy could take him.

“Hey Steve,” Tessa sent him a small smile. Steve leaned forward at the counter to touch Tessa’s arm and she instinctively stepped back and towards Happy. Happy put a hand on her hip in response to her leaning back towards him. At Tessa’s movement, Steve stopped leaning forward and stepped back behind the counter, eyes snapping down to the hand Happy had possessively on her hip. Steve’s face donned a frown, but in an second, it was gone.

“How are you? It’s good to see you.” Steve held a small smile directed towards Tessa.

“I’m good, thanks for asking. Sorry I’ve been a little MIA, I’ve been busy. Can I get my usual please?” Tessa shot him a grin, like there was an inside joke added to that. Steve shot her a widened, sly smile back. Happy noted the distinct lack of acknowledge from Steve and felt a familiar feeling of irritation crawl up his spine.

“Coming right up,” Steve turned to start whatever order was Tessa’s ‘usual’.

“Wait, Happy did you want anything?” Tessa turned into Happy’s arm, the image they projected was much more intimate than what they actually were with Tessa tucked up under his arm wrapped protectively in his embrace and her looking up at him innocently. Happy knew that this wasn’t her intention but he still felt a deeper level of satisfaction at the dark look Steve shot towards the biker. Happy had to keep a smirk off his face. Happy was competitive by nature, it wasn’t his fault that this felt like a win to him.

“Just a black coffee and whatever she’s gettin’,” Happy reached into his pocket and pulled a twenty out of a large stack of bills, throwing it onto the counter without looking away from Steve. “Will that cover it?” Happy really just said that to rub it in, he figured that whatever they were getting wasn’t going to exceed that.

“Wait, Happy, are you sure? I can pay.” Tessa was looking up at him again, and for a second he forgot about Steve.

“Don’t worry about it, little girl. Go sit down.” Happy tapped her hip as she smiled up at him and turned to find a booth in the corner of the boutique coffeeshop.

“Keep the change,” Happy didn’t try to fight off the smirk this time as he turned and headed to the booth with Tessa already occupying.

“Thanks for buying,” Tessa shot him another grin, but all Happy did was grunt. Two steps forward, five steps back.

“How long ago did this stalking thing start?” Tessa sighed deeply, hoping they wouldn’t have to jump right into this but that didn’t appear to be on Happy’s agenda.

“About a month, maybe a month and half ago. If we’re considering the comments as the start. Again, it was just comments that were a little obscure from the same username that eventually progressed to things that involved personal info. Then they became violent, talking about what he would do to my body but in more, ah, specific details. Didn’t matter if I deleted his comments or blocked his account. He’ll make a new one and he’ll spam me. He would comment on video after video. About a week ago I went to leave my apartment to get help and there was a note on my car. Then I didn’t leave for 5 more days. You were around for the rest.” Tessa’s arms were crossed over her chest, subconsciously rubbing against themselves.

“Where do you spend most of your time?” Tessa took another deep breath.

“I don’t really go anywhere but Diosa and my apartment. I like to come here but I don’t really go anywhere else. I’m kind of a homebody.” Happy’s eyes slid to Steve making Tessa’s drink.

“How do you know this guy?” Happy’s head inclined towards the barista.

“Who, Steve? Actually, we met in college. I didn’t finish and I don’t talk to anyone else who I met there. Steve’s one of my only friends to be honest, kind of sad.” Tessa let out a weak chuckle.

“Why didn’t you finish school?” Happy threw an arm over the back of the booth, epitome of casual.

Tessa took a deep breath, unsure of how to proceed. She’s typically a private person and she didn’t see how much of this even pertained to what Happy needed.

“I needed to pay my bills and my college kicked me out for being a camgirl. Bad press or something.” Tessa didn’t look him in the eye when she said this, she was a terrible liar.

“Don’t lie to me,” his voice came out harsh and viper sharp. Tessa snapped up to look at him.

“I’m not,” it was weak coming out of her mouth. Tessa knew she’d been made but she couldn’t bring herself to tell Happy. “Look, it’s not that simple.”

Happy took a long look at Tessa, surveying the tiny woman in front of him. Her body language screamed uncomfortable.

“Look, I’m sure you don’t wanna tell me what happened but it might help me find the guy doing this.” Tessa shook her head.

“I don’t want this to be everyone’s business.” Tessa lifted her eyes to Happy, hoping to convey the importance of this to her.

“Only those who need to know.” Happy didn’t mention that it would likely being the whole club if it was important information, but he would be the one to determine that.

“I was a camgirl since freshman year, my dad is dead and my mom split when I was a baby. I had to put myself through college. However, it only became a problem for my school when they found out junior year after I was sexually assaulted at a frat party.” Tessa didn’t look at Happy, who didn’t say anything, waiting for Tessa to elaborate.

“I went to think party with my friends, and usually I’m careful with my drinks but I must’ve not been as careful as I thought. I blacked out, I have no idea what happened. Steve found me in the backyard stuffed into a bush with no pants on. I had bruises all over me and a broken rib. Other than the lack of pants, the severe pain that I felt… down there let know that I didn’t just party too hard.” Tessa began to rub her head, a tension headache arising.

“Steve helped me to the ER where a rape kit and toxicology report told me what I already knew, someone had slipped me a roofie and then when I blacked out took whatever he felt like from me. I brought the case to the authorities on campus but because I didn’t know who did it, they wouldn’t even investigate it. A week later, a local journalist got hold of the story about how a college campus let another sexual assault go unchecked and published. The catch was that my work as a camgirl came out with that. The school released me from their programming, stating that my ‘extracurricular activities’ didn’t align with their code of conduct and I was kicked out. The truth is that they were afraid of the PR that would come with a camgirl getting raped at a frat party. You know, all that “well she’s a sex worker, she was asking for it” argument wasn’t something that they wanted to attach to their name.” Tessa shrugged as she recanted the story for Happy. Happy didn’t look all that affected by what she said and to be fair, she was relieved. She didn’t want to deal with the pity involved or the false angry people felt for her.

“When I left the school, Steve was the only one who stuck with me. The friends that I went to the party with acted like I was asking for and that it was my choice to wake up like that in the bushes. Many of them were dating or friends with the guys in the frat who threw the party and kept telling me that none of the guys in the frat would do that, they were ‘nice guys’”, Tessa used air quotes. “So I found an apartment for cheap in Lodi and after a few months of solo work, Diosa found me and cut a contract for me. Best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Happy didn’t let on to how he felt, although he had the sensation of bugs crawling all over him. He could see that this is clearly where her boundary problems came from. To think that you’re investing money into your education and they don’t even have the decency to protect you? They had no problem taking her money from her work but god forbid they treat her like a human. Happy fought off a frown, not wanting to let her know how bothered he was. First, she gets assaulted on campus, then she gets kicked out and now this asshole is literally stalking her. Happy didn’t get men. No pussy was better than willing pussy, and to put someone like her through it all to get your dick wet seemed like… too much work. He could appreciate that she was a very attractive woman, don’t get him wrong. If the opportunity presented itself, he would absolutely let her ride his cock towards her own Kingdom Come, but that didn’t excuse the behavior of the men treating her like this. Still, Happy didn’t feel pity for the woman. Tessa seemed to come out of her previous experience with her humor and strength intact. He saw the way she pulled herself together after finding her apartment a mess and her cat dead. Sitting with her now, Happy didn’t see a single trace of her hardships. He briefly wondered if she just managed to cope through it all, or if she was bottling it all up. In the end it doesn’t matter, what’s done was done, and Happy would do what he would do and make this asshole who thought that he could own her disappear and he would do it gladly.

“Do you have any idea who the guy was?” Tessa looked up at Happy, shaking her head.

“Honestly? Not a clue. To be honest, it’s something that I left behind and I don’t even care who the guy was. Everything about the situation makes my skin crawl and there’s more than one perpetrator here. The college is at fault too.” Happy nodded his head.

“What was the name of the frat?” Tessa thought for a second.

“Alpha Phi? I don’t really know, Greek life wasn’t for me and I didn’t really spend a lot of time there. I didn’t know many of the members and it happened over a year ago now. About two.” Happy nodded again.

In that moment, Steve arrived with plates of their food and the coffees. Happy’s plain black coffee was placed sloppily in front of him, and a drink in a mug with a mountain of whip cream was placed in front of Tessa.

Happy lifted an eyebrow at Tessa, who smiled sleeplessly at Happy. Happy didn’t acknowledge Steve as he placed the food down and a water for Tessa.

“Thanks, Stevie,” Tessa shot him a bright smile.

“Anything for you, Tess,” Steve lingered a second, but one look at Happy and he turned and went back behind the counter, leaving the pair to their coffee and sandwiches.

“Got enough coffee with that pile of whip cream, Tessa?” Happy had a smirk on his face. Tessa’s eyes bore right into Happy’s. Without saying a word, she gathered her hair in one hand on the side of her and leaned down. Happy’s dick twitched again as he watched her little pink tongue sneak out of her mouth to gather up a sizeable bite of the white cream, all while Tessa maintained her eye contact with Happy. Happy’s tongue came out to coat his bottom lip in response, a smirk still plastered on his face. Instantly Happy was brought back to the imagery from earlier, Tessa’s hair wrapped around his fist, hands on her hip, bent over the counter as he slammed into her. This time, the image returned tenfold and with Steve at the counter watching him do it.

Tessa leaned up, and for a second relished the sexual tension in the room. She enjoyed being sexy, she enjoyed being desired. She really enjoyed the look on Happy’s face and the fact that in that moment, he desired her. All thoughts of the woman from the clubhouse had momentarily vanished.

Without warning, Tessa let out a giggle. She wasn’t even sure what she was giggling at, maybe the tension getting to her.

“Oh please, don’t let me stop you.” Happy gestured to the cup of whip creamed coffee. Tessa grabbed the wrapper from her straw and tossed it at Happy, who easily batted it away.

“Shut up,” Tessa was rolling her eyes at Happy, but she felt genuinely at easy. Laughter still stuck on her tongue like the cream and a sly smile playing on her lips.

taglist:

@geeksareunique

[atrophantom]

We ran from him for a reason but I guess when you don’t report things their ex-fiancees raise questions years later. 

I’m just happy she understands it wasn’t consensual. 

CW: Pedophilia , Rape mention/ Implied , Sexual Abuse

When we were little, our brother Aries and his friend Todd were about 10 years older than us. The body was 4 or 5, Aries was 14 or 15. Todd and Aries made sure we went to school and ate, even if it was bare minimum being that our mother was very addicted to drugs and very incapable of being a mother.

I remember Todd teaching us how to make cereal, and laughing when we beat Aries in a video game. Those are the only things of Todd we recall. We regarded him as a safe person. When we were 16, he almost 30, he asked us for lewd photos and brought us dyed flowers in a vase of cinnamon candy. I don’t think any of us knew about it aside from me and even I didn’t recall it until recently. 

In 2015 we became homeless. Again. Things were spiraling after we got in a wreck that prevented us from working. We were 19 and living with our mother again, after not having contact with her for over a decade. She hadn’t gotten better, was still neglectful and just being around her is triggering. We had gotten in contact with Todd and he obviously knew what living with Renee was like. He offered to bring us food, because with no money and no way to leave the house we were legitimately starving. 

He offered to move us in with him and his fiancee, Heather. We told him about our DID and that was a mistake. We explained some of the ones that fronted most frequently and he said “I know about Zylar! I always knew there was something going on with you when you were little. I’m pretty sure I’ve met that one.”

We didn’t see the red flags. We were just attempting to survive and if Todd had WiFi, we could keep contact with our partner. So that’s what we did. 

By the end of 2015, Zylar and Mordechai had both been assaulted and raped numerous times by him. I have all of those memories. I don’t know if those three know what happened, all I know is that it retraumatized them. Zylar has gotten worse since then, and since 2016 and those related events also. Mordechai seems to be improving steadily though. I’m unsure what to do. Knowing this happened to them feels like watching your friend get roofied but not doing anything about it. 

It was nearing Christmas in 2015. Heather was at work, Todd had the night off and Synx was talking to our partner on Skype. They’d drawn a picture of us. Todd came to our room and said “I’m bored. Do you want to go to town and look at the lights on the boats? Get some food?” Synx thought this sounded fine, and told our partner we were going uptown to get food. They told us to stay safe. And I wish we would have revered that higher than we did. Synx was excited to go and said “Don’t you think we should wait for Heather?” and Todd said no. This made Synx uncomfortable.

Todd got us dinner at a seafood place. He started drinking- a LOT, as he usually did. Synx was getting increasingly uncomfortable, and the anxiety of being out of the house and around loud drunk people was becoming too much. She tried to find a quiet place to go on the waterfront. We know that place well and were going to go to the docks. But Todd followed. Synx wanted to go home and begged him to call a cab, he was ignoring calls from Heather and her panic was getting worse and worse. She couldn’t message our partner, we didn’t have a phone with service. Todd asked why we were being the way we were, why we were running away. On the street corner in front of anyone and everyone he grabbed our arm and forced a kiss. Synx tried to get away and when he noticed her struggling, he pushed her, and started yelling and cussing. Synx was terrified. Todd kept it from his fiancee.

When Lazarus saw this, he called an old friend from highschool and stressed that we needed a place to go. We left the next day, Todd apologizing himself in circles.

Heather, his now ex-fiancee, contacted me last night.

She said “I know what happened, I know what he did and I don’t blame you. I love all of you.” It brought everything back. 

I’m happy she still loves us. I’m happy she knows now. 

But what am I supposed to do with this?

[wannawritefast]

The Crown of Brooklyn

A/N: Hey! I have recently become obsessed with the mobster!AU. And I haven’t written for our beloved Cap in a while. So I did a thing. I hope you like my thing. I certainly like this thing. I’m tagging @caplansteverogers cuz I love her and she inspired me to write this! Feedback is appreciated and, once again, requests are OPEN. xoxo, Echo

Warnings: Death (including death of a single mother of a young girl), blood, violence, alcohol use, mentions of sexual harassment and rape, attempted roofie

You grew up amongst crime. Your father was involved in a mob in Brooklyn and your mother worked as a spy for them. Your parents would have been more surprised if you didn’t enter into the life of crime in Brooklyn than if you had.

Unfortunately, they died when you were in your teens but it came with the territory and you easily made peace with the fact that they had died doing what they chose to do. And you made easier peace with the fact that you wanted in.

Somehow you infiltrated the mob that had taken out your parents and investigated their deaths. But rather than take out the boss you became family of sorts to him.

He never had children and always wanted kids of his own (something about scaring any possible wives away with revealing his job). He held you close as he got old. He doted on you as if you were his own daughter and you were the little princess of the mob. When he passed away he passed his job to you: his only child and the young queen of one of the most powerful mobs in Brooklyn.

As you rose to power you evolved the mob into something different, something unprecedented; you focused your mob on the women. You cleaned out the plague of oppression in strip clubs still keeping them standing but actually taking care of your workers and recutting their pay to be fair. The strippers enjoyed their jobs but not the harassment that came with it.

You swapped out your heist squad with inconspicuous girls. Overall you found that they just did the jobs better.

You didn’t kill the men or condemn any of your girls that wanted to pursue relationships. But any men that continued to treat you or your girls like garbage after fair warning to change their ways were taken out immediately.

Your numbers grew quickly. Women on the streets of Brooklyn were terrific allies. You became a guardian angel of sorts to the women that had been taken advantage of, harassed, and violated. Even though Brooklyn was high in crime, the numbers for rape, sexual harassment, and domestic abuse went down and the perpetrators were dealt with seemingly overnight. Even when you left Brooklyn to travel, your destination was cleansed of their sexual assault perpetrators. Your reputation traveled around the world as much as you did and you became influential.

The archetype that women were catty and two-faced was only true in movies as far as your experience was concerned. You took care of your girls and they helped you in many more ways than you could have possibly imagined. Who knew girl positivity and togetherness could be so powerful?

Your team was built of the most boss women you had ever possibly met. As it turned out you had assembled the best weapons engineers, self defense trainers, and hackers the city had seen and it was all underneath everyone’s noses because you were girls. And they were your girls. The mutual dependency made everyone close and your sisterhood type of bond rivaled that of sororities. Let’s just say Elle Woods would be proud.

Under the moniker of Juno, the queen of the Roman gods, you made it a point to learn hand-to-hand combat (anything with a blade became your new favorite) and trained those in your care. Soon enough, grown men cried in fear of the women they so commonly threw aside in their pursuits of power. Bitches had never been so feared in all of Brooklyn.

The Bitches specialized in diamonds. Your black market sales made incredible amounts of money and you made sure that your girls were paid before you were. Your new weapons became something that the other gangs sought after and, in exchange for providing arms, they offered protection and backup when jobs needed to get done.

The gangs of the world soon had a soft spot for The Bitches and the scariest mob bosses took you under their wings. You joined them for family dinners and to much of them you were like an adoptive daughter or sister. They understood that you didn't get involved in bad blood feuds between the other gangs but saw you as family nonetheless. Enemies were powerful but nothing beats the power of friends. Naturally it came as no surprise when your gang became the most successful in all of Brooklyn.

Well… Steve Rogers and his goons wouldn’t agree with that. But who gives a fuck about him?

The two of you hated each other. Although you never dared attack the other, it was abundantly clear that you were oil and water. You didn’t mix. Something about power-crazed mob leaders that had equally large egos and self-assurance in their abilities. You never interacted with him and you liked it that way.

Your assistant pinged your BlueTooth earpiece in the middle of a meeting. “Juno, we have a situation.”

With your codename ringing in your ear (in case your lines were tapped), you raised your manicured finger to the businessmen in the room, demanding a moment. “Can it wait?”

She took a deep breath. “Not really…”

“Why?” You asked suspiciously.

“It’s Rogers…”

“Fuck him,” you said, with no hesitation and returned to speaking to your audience again.

“He’s here.”

You paused. That made you stop in your tracks. Your skin prickled and blood boiled at the mere sound of his name. “He’s here? Why the fuck is he here?” You spat. The people around the table all jumped.

“It’s one of our girls.”

Oh hell to the no… Without a second thought you slammed the projector remote into the table and shattered it. A part of the glass table rained down with it as you stalked for the door.

“Meeting dismissed,” you growled as you threw open the door and it banged against the wall. The hinges snapped off the threshold. “I have a dead motherfucker to deal with.”

You smoothed your white jacket and pencil skirt and cracked your neck as you unholstered your vintage pistol.

Your assistant met you down the hallway. Victoria was your temper control, thank god for that.

Seeing your warpath, she immediately slowed you. “It wasn’t him or any of his men.”

It sated you a little bit but you were still fuming. He knew better than to just show up uninvited, unannounced. What kind of bullshit was this? “Then who’s responsible?”

“I didn’t tell you who was taken out…”

“Doesn’t matter. Whoever did it is going to pay with their life.” With that, you pushed past her and into the room where Rogers and his boys presumably were. You couldn’t believe that he thought he could just waltz in here on your turf as if he owned the place. You shoved the door open and were met with four men all looking at you, two out of the three startled.

“Well, hello to you too,” James prompted. Your eyes immediately landed on Steve, the bastard. He only blinked casually at your storming.

“Shut it, Barnes!” You snarled. “Start talking Rogers. Why the fuck are you here?”

Your rival mob boss stared you down cooly. Two alpha personalities in one room created a volatile environment. Especially with Steve motherfucking Rogers. “Cursing isn’t becoming of a lady,” he mocked.

“Well, it's a good thing that I’m not a lady, Rogers. I’m your worst nightmare.” You got in his face, the white of your suit contrasting the volatility of your temper.

“I’m the King. I’m your worst nightmare.” He got in your face right back and stared you down right back with his light blue eyes that contrasted his pitch black suit.

“Yeah, you’re both nightmares. Get a room some other time,” your jaw dropped as your head snapped to one of his cronies… Sam. “Meanwhile we have a real problem.”

You bristled a bit and you weren’t sure if the wave of heat that washed over you was embarrassment or anger but you brushed it aside. “Please! Steve wishes he could.” You glanced at the boss standing next to you. He narrowed his eyes at you. “That’s not important right now though.” Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself for the damage and nodded at Victoria to fill you in.

“There were two bodies discovered at 3 AM this morning at our docks. One of them was a Rogers cronie… a man known as Phillip.” Steve gulped beside you as Victoria continued. “The second was one of our own… Cleo.”

Your heart dropped at the announcement but you took a deep breath. “What were they fighting over?”

Victoria shook her head. “They weren’t fighting.” You cocked an eyebrow. “They were sniped. In fact, our intel tells us that the cron- uh- Phillip was planning on proposing later that evening… to Cleo.”

You needed to sit down. Cleo had disclosed to you that she was dating someone new. Someone who actually loved her… and her daughter. Her daughter… She didn’t tell you he was a Rogers goon. You felt sick to your stomach.

“Her daughter is with a social worker. I sent Florence over there already to get her situated in the meantime and I… um… I have custody papers when you’re ready to look over them and-”

You cut her off with a motion of your hand. That was a matter you would take care of later. “Any word from our private investigator?”

“Actually,” Sam interjected, “we sent in our P.I. as well… And there’s reason to believe that there’s a new mob in Brooklyn and they want your titles.”

“‘Titles?’ What do you mean ‘titles?’” You interrupted Sam.

“We mean they want you and Steve…” He drew a line with his finger across his neck.

“We don’t… We aren’t working together. Does this new gang have any brains whatsoever? Do they know that we’re not allied?”

“Yeah.” James spoke this time. “They just don’t care. And they’re getting bolder.”

Steve crossed his arms and spoke. “They took out one of our artifact ships last week. It was leaving our harbor on the way to pick some up and they exploded it. 150 meters from the docks. It was a power play.”

You took a deep breath. “What does this mean for us?” You asked. “Why do I care? For all I know this is a ploy by you to take me out.”

“Y/n,” he addressed you, softer than usual. Steve always called you by Juno when he did talk to you. This was serious. “There were two bullets… in each.”

You gulped. One would have been a coincidence. Two… was not an accident. Especially if Phillip was sniped. “You’re sure it's the new gang?”

“They signed off on the deaths. They took credit for it,” Sam interjected.

“I wouldn’t be asking for help unless there was a real threat here…” Steve turned to you, his face dead serious. “In fact, you’d probably be the last person I went to in conflict. They want my crown and power and will do anything to get it. Including take down threats, like you and me. I will not let them tread on innocent bystanders and pull civilians into the crossfire.”

His eyes held a certain plea. You hadn’t seen any expression close to this one cross his features. Ever. Although you would rather be arrested than help Steve under normal circumstances, this was not normal. And deep down you knew that you needed his help just as much as he needed yours, if the speculations about the new gang were to be believed. No matter how much either of you would want to deny that you needed help at all.

“Fine,” you agreed, “I’ll help.” A smirk pulled on the corner of Steve’s mouth. You pulled the whiskey in the glass vial off the alcohol shelf in the room and, after taking a swig, you poured it into five glasses. You maintained eye contact as you offered a glass to the mob boss standing in front of you.

“If your men or their families don’t feel safe, I can set them up a space. Just say the word.” Everyone in the room now had their glass. Victoria merely held hers respectfully but didn’t drink. She was never any fun. But Steve downed it in one go and returned the glass to you to be refilled. “It’s nothing Juno can’t do. But there’s something you should know, Steve.”

You refilled it generously. “I wear the crown here. Not you…”

“I hope you know, Steve, that this doesn’t mean I trust you.” You were seated in the booth of one of Steve’s restaurants: a swanky joint with invite access only. Tonight it was empty except for you, Steve, and the “up and coming” mob boss who was running late.

You smoothed your long red dress and subconsciously ran your fingers over your garter knife holster, just in case. Tapping your painted fingernails on the white-clothed table you took a sip of the red wine offered to you. The diamond necklace perched on your collar bones was a comforting weight but still did little to calm the small bout of anxiety in your system.

“I know it doesn’t. I still don’t trust you either.” Steve unbuttoned and rolled the botSteves of his shirt sleeves. He adjusted his red handkerchief. The two of you truly hadn’t intended on matching. It just happened. “God, he was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago…”

“Steve,” you started. He turned toward you and for a moment you realized how nice he looked. Only for a moment. “If I die tonight, the hit is going on your head.”

“You’re not going to die,” Steve grabbed his whiskey and took a sip as he reclined back and crossed an ankle over his knee. “It’ll be fine.”

You scoffed as you pulled your pocket mirror out of your clutch, which conveniently had bullets in it, and were reminded of the 1930’s style mini-pistol securely lodged in the middle of your chest. With the mirror flicked open you dabbed at your lipstick delicately with your finger.

“You look good. I have no idea what you’re fussing over.” Steve commented as he lightly scratched his nose. Was that a compliment? Your eyes shot to him in shock.

“Did Steve Rogers, the second best mob boss in Brooklyn, just compliment me?” You hovered a hand over your red lips in exaggerated surprise.

He rolled his eyes at you and was about to respond when the door to the dining room was thrown open. Steve and yourself stared at the swaggering young man who strode to your table.

“Sorry I’m late,” he breathed, but there was no apology in his tone whatsoever. “Traffic.” He snapped his fingers at one of the waiters and ordered vodka. The young man briefly sized you up by running his eyes unabashedly up and down your frame before turning to face Steve. What a pig…  “So what seems to be the issue? I was invited here by the esteemed Steven Rogers with no explanation. I’m not complaining, by any means. But I do think you called me here for a reason,” his eyes landed on you again. “The eye candy is incredible by the way. How much is she?” He leaned forward with a smirk. Your jaw dropped in disbelief. Who did he think he was?

“She’s not for sale, asshole,” Steve asserted. He had his eyes narrowed at the little shit. The blood roared in your ears as the man’s vodka was set on the table. Your temper was no longer amiable. There was blood in the water now and you and Steve were honing in on your prey like you had a thousand times before.

You patted one of Steve’s clenched fists that was resting on the table. “Don’t worry, Steve. I’ve got this…” Your fingers wrapped around your wine glass and brought it to your matching lips. “Darling, you wish you could afford me.”

The man chuckled darkly as he ran a hand through his hair. “Ah, I see. No, don’t worry. I can respect an arrangement. Hey, sweetheart, tell your-”

“I’m not a messenger,” you sipped your wine. “And Steve and I have no arrangement. But I’ll tell you what can be arranged: a bounty on your head… or a hit. Your choice really.”

The man leaned forward threateningly. “I’m sorry but are you in any position to be making threats, whore?”

You blinked slowly and ever so slightly pulled down the top left side of your dress to reveal a tattoo of a minimalist crown: your unmistakable emblem of power. His reaction went from anger to lust to nervousness in mere seconds. The man gulped harshly as he downed his vodka and strained to keep his eyes challenging. You pulled the fabric back up and tapped Steve’s hand again. “I’ll let you cut back in, Steve.”

It was your turn to lean back once Steve took the reins. As he leaned forward you saw the amused sideways smile he had directed at you before it turned bloodthirsty. Something about watching it happen caused you to stir a little.

“You should really think about who you threaten before you do it. But you won’t have to worry about that anymore.” Steve poured himself more whiskey.

“Why-why is that?” The man stammered as his hands found his lap. This guy thought we wouldn’t retaliate…

“Because you’re going to shut down your sorry charade, pack your things, and leave Brooklyn.” Steve stared the man down. “And never come back.”

A waiter set down a tiramisu in front of you, Steve, and this sad excuse for a gang boss looking like he was going to wet himself.

You decided to speak up again. You stuck your fork in the rich slab of custard, coffee, and pastry. “Did you think you could take out my best programmer, yank her daughter away from her only stability in life, and not deal with the wrath of her aunties, one of which is Juno, the Mob Queen of Brooklyn?”

“I-I have a-uh-a sniper.” The man stuttered. He was grabbing for straws.

“I’m sorry,” Steve piped up. He stretched his arm closest to you out and laid it on the rim of the booth. “But are you in any position to be making threats, you son of a bitch?”

You chuckled at Steve’s response. “You’ve got two options: my way or Steve’s. Which one would you prefer?” You swirled the dark liquid in its glass.

“The latter.”

You nodded in agreement. “I thought so.”

The scoop of tiramisu on your fork tasted delicious. You watched the man in front of you wear regret on his face. This man was not cut out for the mob life. He wore his emotions too outwardly. You were doing him a favor really.

“Did you honestly think that you could threaten the two most powerful people in Brooklyn and get away with it?” Steve asked as he began eating the dessert in front of him.

The man only stared at his dessert contemplatively. You went back to your clutch to check your phone. But before the screen could even turn on, there was a clatter at the table in front of you.

You, startled by the sudden commotion, looked back up. The man’s hand was hovering over your wine glass with a tiny vial clutched in his fingers. A roofie bottle. Steve had one hand wrapped around the man’s wrist and the other had a gun pressed against the man’s temple. Steve was staring the man down, a deadly look in his blue eyes.

You couldn’t stop yourself from shaking with rage. In one swift motion you pulled your pistol out of your dress and stood up, knocking the table over. It toppled to the side noisily and the sound of utensils, plates, and glasses hitting the tile floor echoed through the empty room.

You pointed the gun at his forehead and a humorless laugh escaped your lungs. “You motherfucker… Looks like we’re doing this my way. Any last words?”

The man looked at you like he was a man with nothing to lose: the most dangerous look in the world. “You’re a bitch,” he spat. Quicker than a blink he drew a knife from his jacket and stabbed it into your outer thigh.

You screamed in pain and your leg began to give out for a few seconds. You supported yourself before nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I am.” And with those words you fired your gun.

The man slumped lifelessly in the booth and rolled to the side onto the floor. You dropped your pistol to the booth and fell back into the seat. You stared at the knife protruding from your leg with a wince.

Steve stepped over the legs of the fallen table and got to the other side of you. Your head was now thrown back against the rim of the booth, trying to manage the sharp pain running up and down your right leg. Maybe if you didn’t look at it it wouldn’t hurt as bad.

“Are you ok? Can you walk?” His voice sounded. Your eyes were clenched shut in pain.

“I have a knife in my leg, Steve… What do you think?” You brought your neck back up. There was a knife in your leg. The only thought going through your head is that it would be a good idea if the knife was removed. You reached your hand to grab the handle. But Steve’s hand grabbed yours to stop it.

“You’re not thinking right. Don’t touch the knife or you’ll lose more blood,” You nodded in agreement. That made more sense you supposed. He yelled for his guard to call one of his medical cars. His guard raced off noting the urgency of the situation. “You need to lie down. Come on. Let’s get you to the floor.”

You nodded through the nausea and lightheadedness that was seizing you and helped Steve help you to the black tile floor. Keeping your leg as still as possible, you used the rest of your body to slide off the booth.

“It’s gonna be a few minutes,” Steve remarked softly. You were laying on the ground now and your vision was starting to sparkle a little bit. “Let me get you more comfortable.”

Steve was remaining calm as he took off his jacket and threw it over your torso. He began unbuttoning his dress shirt leaving him in a wife beater. His dress shirt was quickly rolled up and stuck underneath your head. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths, not daring to look at your thigh.

“Steve?” You inquired. You could feel yourself slipping out of consciousness.

“Yeah?”

“Can you take off my heels please?”

“Yeah…” You felt the shoes get pulled off your feet but any pleasure that it may have provided was overpowered by the agonizing pain in your leg.

“Steve. I think I’m going to pass out.” You warned. Your hand latched on Steve’s. His opened to accommodate yours. It felt nice.

“You’ve gotta stay awake or… I’ll… I’ll take your crown.” He offered. His tone wasn’t serious but you appreciated the effort.

“If I wasn’t able to wear the crown,” you opened your eyes to look at him. His blue eyes looked into yours with something that looked strange… Worry, maybe? That couldn’t be right. Your mind was playing tricks on you. “I’d be more than happy for you to wear it.”

You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head and you blacked out.

You woke up in an unfamiliar room. It was a bedroom with typical furnishings but it had hospital equipment next to you instead of a nightstand. You stared up at the canopy draping over the top of the bed for a few seconds.

The silkiness of the sheets felt smooth against your skin. Remembering what happened before you went unconscious, you gingerly hovered your hand over your leg from above the covers.

“And Juno lives,” a voice sounded from the doorway. Footsteps moved along the carpeted floor and they stopped at your bedside. You turned your head and saw Steve standing with his hands in his pockets.

You groaned groggily. “Are my girls ok?”

Steve smiled at your question. It wasn’t a vicious smile but a kind one. One you hadn’t seen him wear before. Your heart didn’t skip a beat… did it? “You got stabbed with a knife in the thigh, passed out, had to get stitches (which I ever so graciously covered for you) and you’re asking if someone else is ok?”

You shrugged… it’s all you had the energy for. “Well, are they?”

He chuckled and shook his head at you. Maybe the nurse needed to look at your cardiac vitals too… “They’re as good as when you left them. You need to rest.”

“I can’t rest. I have to-,” you attempted to sit yourself up. Steve only put his hand out to stop your shoulder when it reached his palm. It felt like he had pushed you full force back into the mattress. “I have to lie down… For a while.”

“Is there anything you need that I can bring you?” He crossed his arms over his chest as he peered down at you.

“My pistol, my phone, and three shots of tequila.” You listed earnestly. “Please.”

“I can get you one of the those,” he responded before leaving the room.

You whispered to yourself. “Please be the tequila…” He sauntered back in with your phone and you reached for it longingly. You figured you would just have to settle for next best.

It touched your fingers and you unlocked it immediately to dial Victoria. But before you could touch ‘call’ Victoria herself appeared in the doorway.

“Oh thank God you’re alright!” She rushed into the room and hugged you tight. “I thought you had been taken out when Steve called and said you’d been stabbed.” He called them personally?

“Well, unfortunately for Steve, this bitch is still alive and kicking.” You winked at Victoria playfully and turned your gaze to Steve briefly. “Sorry, darling, you can’t get rid of me that easily,” you joked.

“Damn,” he cursed exaggeratedly. His eyes glistened humorously. “I can not believe you foiled my elaborate plan.”

You shifted the tone of the conversation and forced yourself to sit up, a little stronger than when you had woken up. “I suppose I’ve overstayed my welcome.” You yanked the blankets off your torso and shifted to move off of the bed.

You finally saw your leg since you had been ever so rudely stabbed in the leg. There were bandages wrapped from the base of your hip to the top of your knee. Your thigh was officially sans knife. The small use of your muscles sent a hot shockwave of pain through your leg and up to your lower back. Your expression soured instantaneously as you took deep breaths and steeled yourself to stand. Nausea welled up and punched you in the gut but you weren’t going to let a tummy ache stop you.

Victoria and Steve alike rushed forward to force you back to laying down. “What are you doing,” Victoria scolded, “Your leg isn’t even close to being healed.”

“You’re going to hurt yourself. Lie down, Y/n.” Steve ordered you. You knew he was probably right but the dominant part of your ego didn’t take orders from anyone, especially Steve. Defiantly and weakly, albeit, you pushed him to the side with the back of your hand and stood to your feet.

Or at least tried to. Steve had been right. The moment your injured leg was standing was the moment your knee buckled and you started to fall to the floor.

Your hands scrambled for the closest thing to hold onto to stop the impact. Your fingers wrapped around the IV stand but it wasn’t enough. Fortunately for you, Steve had better reflexes and caught you as you continued to fall. He swiftly grabbed your torso and secured you from falling further. With his calloused hands on your waist and your hands on his muscled biceps you stepped backwards and sat back down.

“Why didn’t you listen to me?” He asked as he pulled away slowly, uncertain if you still required his assistance.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Does this face look like it follows orders?” He cocked a challenging eyebrow at you. “The answer is no, Steven. I don’t follow orders. Besides you don’t want me here. We’re rivals. Remember?”

“Yes, I do remember. But I do also remember you getting stabbed in the fucking thigh in front of me. In my restaurant. While carrying out a plan of my volition. I am responsible for you getting injured. You need to heal and you are going to stay here to do that.” Steve had his hands on his hips.

“I have my own doctors, Steve. I can heal at my headquarters. I have power here too.” You leaned forward with as much dignity as you could muster.

He clutched his forehead in frustration. If nothing else you were glad that you were still able to piss him off while minorly incapacitated. “This isn’t about power, Y/n. This is about you being hurt. And I don’t think Victoria’ll let you leave here until you’re healed if I ensured your safety. Which I do.”

Your head snapped to Victoria who looked conflicted. She visibly squirmed at the equally scrutinizing looks you and Steve were giving her. “He has a point, Juno. Us moving you would do more harm than good.” You could practically feel Steve’s infuriating and victorious smirk. “Joan and I can handle it. We can send you documents and you can sign them on your tablet and send them back to us.”

“Victoria…” You started. This was NOT happening.

“It’s better that you get a break any way. God knows you need it.” She fiddled with her nails. Then she began to move for the door. “Getrestandfeelbetterbye!”

“Victoria!” And she ran out of the room shutting the door behind her. You were gaping like a fish.

She just… She just left you.

Alone.

At your rival’s headquarters.

While you were at a physical disadvantage.

You slowly turned your head back to the man standing in front of you. “Told you,” he chided.

“There’s no need to gloat, asshole,” you glared at him. “I hate you,” you mumbled.

“No, you don’t. Not anymore. You’re just angry.” He took a deep breath. “What kind of entertainment do you like? TV, movies, card games…” Steve suggested.

“You know what would be great?” You clapped your hands together in faux enthusiasm. “If you located the nearest cliff and took a long walk right off of it!”

He winced apathetically. “Sorry, doll, no can do.”

“Don’t patronize me.” You moved to lie down and tried to use your muscles to pull your hurt leg back over onto the mattress. But they either didn’t want to comply or they clawed at your nerve endings violently.

Steve’s hand found the underside of your partially bandaged knee and lifted it gently onto the bed. You weren’t sure whether to thank him or snap at him. “I still don’t like you, Rogers,” you jabbed as you crossed your arms over your chest and stared at the shut door to the room that seemed to mock you. “But I do like Netflix.”

“Really? You tell me you hate me and expect me to give you something after that?”

“Yes.”

“No. That’s not how this works. I’ll help you get healed but if you’re going to be rude then I don’t think I should help you pass the time.”

“Are you seriously wagering with a cripple right now?” You asked incredulously.

“Yes.” God, you wanted to rip his pretty eyes out of their sockets!

“Fine,” you growled. With gritted teeth you apologized. “Thank you for treating me and…” Your voice trailed off into a murmur, “I’m sorry for being difficult.”

“What was that?” He asked obnoxiously with a hand to his ear. This asshole.

“I’m sorry for being difficult.” You enunciated venomously. You pressed your lips together and crossed your arms as you stared at the wall rather than him.

“Now… was that so hard?” Steve’s voice was maddeningly smooth and his blue eyes glittered tantalizingly.

“No. It wasn’t actually.” You spat.

“Good. Then you’ll have no problem doing it again in the inevitable future.” Your anger began to bubble like lava.

“Can I have my Netflix now?” He raised a brow. “Please.”

“Why yes you can!” He over enthusiastically responded. Steve produced a remote from his suit pocket and pressed a button. An LED TV began to slowly lower from a slot in the dark ceiling.

“You’re lucky I don’t have my pistol, jerkwad. I would’ve shot the ballsiness right off of you.”

“I bet,” he agreed amiably as pressed more buttons on the remote nonchalantly.

You huffed a deep breath. “Dammit, Steve. You’re supposed to respond to me with witty repartee. You’re not being any fun.”

“Mmhmm.” The screen was open on the Netflix main screen and he tossed you the remote. Steve dragged a lounge chair to the side of your bed and reclined in it. Suit and all. “What are we watching?” He prompted.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “What?”

“Did I stutter? I asked ‘what are we watching,’” He answered matter-of-factly.

“Why? Don’t you have your mob to run?” Your brows were furrowed.

“I’m the mob boss. I can do whatever the fuck I want. And I want to watch something.” Even though you couldn’t quite argue with his logic your jaw was dropped and you didn’t move. He huffed and snatched the remote out of your hand. “I’ll choose then.” He clicked on the arrows and settled on a crime tv show.

You were still staring at him. He was contentedly facing the screen. He turned to face you, his blue eyes looking into yours. A stray blonde curl fell out of his gelled do. It was endearing. “What are you looking at?”

You shook your head and faced the screen. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing…”

The two of you simultaneously inhaled and exhaled a deep breath.

Halfway between episode 3 and 4 and making jokes about the the criminals, you fell asleep. It was exhausting, what could you say… You had gotten stabbed not even 24 hours before.

Steve hadn’t noticed you had fallen asleep initially. He thought you were ignoring one of his comments. It wasn’t uncommon. When you hadn’t responded after a few repetitions, he opened his mouth to give a biting remark and expected you to respond in like fashion.

But when he looked over at you, head lolled against the pillows, hair askew, and mouth slightly ajar, something weird happened.

Steve smiled to himself.

Not because of how vulnerable you looked (maybe that was part of it) or even because there was a little bit of drool seeping onto the pillow but because one of the most vicious and vengeful and ruthless people he knew slept looking like an angel. There were bags under your eyes and there were spots of imperfections on your skin. He couldn’t tell if it was despite them or because of them but he thought you looked… dare he say… well, beautiful.

He looked away. It felt oddly intimate watching you sleep if only for a few seconds. A little bit of an invasion of privacy. Steve gently readjusted your awkwardly flayed arms and pulled the covers up to your shoulders, careful not to wake you. He stood silently from his chair and walked noiselessly to the door. As he closed it shut, Steve took one more peek at you.

You only scrunched your nose momentarily in your sleep. Deadly, he thought.

But in that moment, Steve knew that he was completely, irreversibly and undeniably fucked.

The following days and weeks were nice. Startlingly nice. Every morning Steve dropped off a coffee for you and checked on you, if only for a few minutes. And every night, after he was done with his work for the day, you fell asleep watching that horrid crime show on Netflix with Steve. Like clockwork.

For meals, he would help you limp down to the dining room when you were finally able to move out of bed rest. He would visit you on his breaks. It didn’t matter if you were engaging in conversation with him. Steve would still sit in the room while you were communicating with Joan and Victoria. It wasn’t invasive at all… It was nice just to have his presence in your room.

You weren’t sure when the two of you began helping the other problem solve but the two of you were certain that you should have brainstormed together earlier. Neither of you were willing to admit, however, that the fault was with your pride… What? Steve’s ego couldn’t even fit through the door sometimes.

But you guessed you could say, at the very least, that you were on friendly terms now…

“Joan,” you switched your phone from one ear to the other when Steve poked his head into the threshold and rapped on the wood with that signature smirk on his face. You smiled at him reflexively and waved him in. “No, I agree we’ve given him plenty of time to pay. You have my stamp of approval to send in the Valkyries….”

Steve meandered into the room and fell back into his recliner. Joan’s tinny voice sounded on the other end. “Will do…” The sound of a keyboard typing filled the silence for a few seconds. “Your order is in.”

“Great! Let me know how that goes. I want a mission report emailed over immediately after …Oh! Is Phoebe there?” You asked hopefully.

“One moment…” The sound of Joan calling Phoebe to the phone was faint but still exciting for you.

“Hi, Anthie Juno.” The voice of Cleo’s three-year-old came on the line. Your heart warmed instantaneously.

“Hi, darling! How was school today?” You asked enthusiastically.

“It was fun! I went on- I went on the swings!” Her little voice informed you excitedly.

“Oh my goodness! Did you go so high?”

“I did, Anthie Juno. I was like a bood!” She giggled as she finished her semi-mispronounced sentence and the sheer adorableness that you imagined was happening on the other side of the line made you hold your chest.

“I bet you were,” you were beaming through your words. “I miss you so so much, Bee.”

She giggled again, at her nickname this time. “I miss you too. When can, when can I see you?”

You glanced over at Steve. He was smiling in your direction and your heart jumped a little bit. There was no doubt he could hear Phoebe speaking. The little girl practically yelled in the speakers whenever she was on the phone.

“I don’t know, Bee…” You wanted to see her but you didn’t want to overstep your bounds with Steve. He had already been so helpful. You almost felt indebted to him.

Steve spoke up. “She can come tomorrow if she wants…” He sat up in his seat.

Your eyebrows shot up. You put your hand over the microphone. “Are you serious?”

He nodded nonchalantly. “Absolutely…”

Your spirits soared. “How does tomorrow sound?”

The squealing on the other side of the line was answer enough. “Ok! Ok…” You could practically hear the gears turning in her little brain. “I’ll- I’ll see you tomowow! I love you! Bye!” The moment before Phoebe hung up you heard the beginning of Joan calling to her.

You chuckled and shook your head as you put your phone down next to you. “I’ll have you know, Steve. She is very excited to come over tomorrow.”

The smile on his face matched yours and his eyes crinkled. “I certainly hope so. I’d miss you if I hadn’t seen you in that long.”

“Steven, no one could ever get tired of this face.” You framed your face with your hands comically.

He jokingly winced to himself as he stood from his spot. “I don’t know about that.” Steve offered his hand when he arrived at your bedside.

You dropped your jaw dramatically and swung your legs over the side of the bed and took his hands. Making sure that you were standing securely on your uninjured leg, you placed a light amount of pressure on your stabbed leg. You could only stand on the ball of your foot before it began to hurt.

He, almost instinctively, wrapped your arm over his suit-clad, muscled shoulders. You hobbled through the bedroom on your way to dinner with Steve supporting you at your side.

“You know…” You pressed your hand against the wall of the hallway to hold yourself up as you addressed Steve. “You’ve been so nice to me that I feel like you’re buttering me up for something.” You were only half joking.

“The King of Brooklyn? Butter you up?” You rolled your eyes at his self-proclamation. He looked at you from the corner of his eyes, slowing his pace to allow you to strengthen your muscle a little bit. “Now where would you get an idea like that?” Steve resupported you, this time with one hand on your waist and the other grasping your outstretched hand.

You just glanced at him from the corners of your eyes as you continued to limp to the dining room.

“I am not buttering you up, Y/n,” he corrected. “If I wanted something from you, I’d tell you. Honestly. Like how much your hair needs a brushing.”

Your jaw dropped as you scoffed at him. “Well, I don’t exactly have the materials to look presentable, Steven. I don’t need to spend much time like you do but I do need the proper instruments.”

It was part of your banter to roast each other.

“I can send someone to the store to pick up some stuff for you?” Steve suggested.

You smiled at him gratefully as you continued to limp along. “That’s alright… I can have Joan send some stuff over when she drops off Phoebe tomorrow.”

“You’re sure?” He asked.

You nodded assuredly. “I owe you big time, Rogers. Seriously, thank you.”

He only shook his head and smiled at the floor… bashfully? “You don’t need to thank me. I was being decent.”

“Steve, mobsters aren’t decent. I know a handful of bosses who, if I were their enemy, would have let me bleed out or took me out while I was down.” He looked up at you once again and you, in turn, looked straight ahead as you paced yourself down the hallway. “So, yes. I do owe you, Rogers. I owe you and then some. When you figure out how I can make it up to you, let me know and I’ll be there. Anytime.”

He smiled genuinely at you. “Anytime?”

“Anytime,” You confirmed without hesitation.

He chuckled to himself and your heart lifted a little bit. Just a little.

After a few moments of silence, Steve spoke up again. “I know how you can make it up to me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he took a deep breath. “Dinner.”

“‘Dinner’?” You were confused. “Is that a code for something that I’m not aware of or-”

“It’s code for,” he lowered his voice, “I want to take you out to dinner after your leg is healed because I like you, Y/n.”

You halted in your tracks as your heart did a tap routine. He liked you? You had had your suspicions but there was no way you could have been absolutely certain until now.

“What if I said no?” You inquired. You weren’t serious. You definitely wanted to go on a date with him but you made it a point to see how a man would react to rejection before pursuing a relationship with him. Just because you really liked him didn’t mean he was exempt.

“I’d be disappointed but I’d respect your ‘no.’ You’re busy and you’d have your reasons, I’m sure.” He shrugged and aided you as you continued to limp to dinner.

“And if I said yes?” You prompted.

A goofy smile graced his features again. “Then I’d be excited and plan the best damn dinner you’ve ever had.”

“That’s quite the claim, Rogers.” You teased with raised eyebrows.

“You can see if it has any merit if you decide to go to dinner with me.” He smirked at you cheekily.

A sideways smile of your own moved your cheeks. “It seems like I’ll just have to.”

“It’s a date then.” He declared. You pretended not to see the kick in his step as the two of walked to the dining room. Steve supported you as you trekked to the dining room, his hands holding yours.

You supposed that’s how it was always meant to be: the two of you working hand in hand.

After all, you knew the value of a good relationship with others…

Especially one with your future husband.

[shultzing]

Dream Log 2018

dream Kaleb died

dream a friend of a friend (P.) was my human pet dog. after watching a bdsm mini documentary lol.

dream Dad came to school to say Christian had a terminal illness

dream Chris C grabbed my arm and said very sternly “we’ve become very good friends.”

dream Gianna pointed out that I mistakenly called her Jan. 

dream I ran into Haley and she acted excited to see me and I said Dad’s old line: If you actually wanted to see me, you could’ve contacted me whenever you want over all of these years.

Dream about Keith and I getting Starbucks

Dream that Sherri Bemis had a stillbirth (she’s actually due in less than 2 months.)

2 very short, unsubstantial/boring dreams about a current crush

Dream I befriended a cop and took him to BFF and felt really guilty for being friends w/ him but didn’t know how to get rid of him, and felt like I was going to get BFF shut down. Thinking back, I think the cop was a guy who is actually a member of BFF that I think is really cute (initials: T.M.) 

day of spring finals, another dream about crush. do not have much of a crush on crush anymore, but day before sent me a pic that i guess got under my skin.

Dream I got an oriental kitten

Dream a friend (K.C.) got into sex work and I was trying to make her feel better about herself but doing a horrible job and making everything worse

Dream now-former crush had something important to tell me, woke up before he could say it

Dream most recent ex-friend started texting me like everything was normal and i was in the middle of deciding exactly how to communicate “don’t you dare” but then woke up

missed several dreams in summertime

Dream that I realized I was bisexual... i think it was a sex dream but i can’t remember. About how hot boobs are?

dream that I ran into Gianna at some random event and was so happy to see her that i screamed and she looked like she was doing really well and introduced me to her new wife.

Dream about making out w/ M

dream that i was getting drinks at a bar and got roofied and found out the whole bar got roofied and was all passed out around me and i had to struggle to the door/figure out how to open the door and then gary came in and started punching the guys who drugged everyone and i woke up

dream that one of M’s friends was assaulting me and M walked in and saw and assumed I was cheating on him and when i tried to explain that it was nonconsensual M didn’t believe me and the guy assaulting me got mad and began attacking me and M just stood and watched bc he was mad at me and then my fam appeared and also didn’t believe me and just watched.

dream in which i bumped into a recent ex-friend who wanted to hang out, so came w/ me on whatever errand I was running and was acting really chummy and then she said something about having not seen me for a while and i went IN on how i felt about her sudden and complete absence in my life and lack of response to invitations etc and the last thing i remember from the dream is watching her collapsed on the ground crying and feeling guilty and knowing that she thought I was being unfair/that she thought she hadn’t done anything wrong

fell asleep thinking about falling asleep on top of M, began dreaming about sleeping on top of R. At first, was so happy thinking “I’ve wanted this all day!” and then realizing it wasn’t M and getting confused/upset

night before an exam, had a dream that I got the wrong exam time and missed it completely. this actually happened to me once this summer, for the record. but today, woke up, and had not missed the exam.

dream about antifa, don’t remember details

dream about befriending a cop to protect/save victor and conceal my identity. had this dream after going to M’s and there were cops all over/talking about cops w/ M

another dream about realizing i’m gay? what is this? this one was a lot longer and more in depth and has lingered w/ me throughout the day. I don’t remember many details -- i just remember that i agreed to some type of threesome w/ two other girls, and one of the girls I was neutral about being around but i was excited overall bc the threesome was going to give me a chance to hook up w/ this other person (a nonbinary female anarchist i know through fb but not irl.) so then we all hooked up and i thought it was brilliant and amazing. and then somehow it switched scenes to my mom screaming at me for something and I was sitting there thinking how much more she’d be screaming at me if she knew i’d just been w/ two women. idk. the night before I had a 3 or 4 hour conversation with a communist rad fem former sex-worker about how fucked up men are and how much they fuck women up and had fucked us up. it was a really depressing conversation that got way too real for both of us, talked about all kinds of abuse and conditioning etc and she said she was wondering if she was gay and i was like “what woman doesn’t wonder that??” so I guess that’s where the dream came from.

-___________- dream about julia and haley lol. specifically, talking to Julia, idk why, on fb and her saying we should catch up w/ haley and me asking what haley would say if i contacted her and julia said she’d be excited and want to smoke weed. I was about to do the whole spiel about being ditched/them being fake but i woke up too soon.

two dreams in one night: dream #1: Robert Tate was my boyfriend and I was embarrassed to tell Victor

two dreams in one night: dream #2: I had a wart growing on my hip and all of the skin around it died and i peeled the skin off in huge chunks

i can’t remember what this dream was about i just remember that M was far away and i called his name and he turned around.

four dreams in one night: first dream was dreaming M’s text back to the goodnight text I sent him irl. dreamt he sent back a text that was a little tooo nice, but it was still a nice dream.

four dreams in one night: had a dream about Haley and I hanging out, I don’t remember the context or if it was good or bad. knowing the pattern of these dreams, probably bad lol.

four dreams in one night: had a dream about Christian and I needing to carry some wounded animal or person. It was very small, I don’t remember what it was, but it had a broken hip. I kept trying to instruct Christian how to carry it w/o making the break worse and he was very frustrated w/ my directiveness and wouldn’t listen and ended up dropping his side of the animal and not caring. lol.

four dreams in one night: I had a dream that an acquaintance of mine, Celine, was going off kind of generally, not at me, about how she was a capitalist and how that didn’t mean she didn’t support colin kaepernick. Probably bc irl I was feeling stressed about calling capitalists grubby-handed in a fb comment.

dream about a professor i like, don’t remember it but don’t think it was bad. think maybe it was about getting a pop quiz? 

I had a dream about Victor when he was a toddler and just learning to form complete sentences. wearing that pink shirt with bananas on it. don’t remember what he was trying to say, though.

Another three dream night: R came over to my house to talk to me, but he was naked, and i had to yell at him to get out until he had clothes on.

2nd dream of that night: My roommate’s cat tried to attack my kitten and punctured her paw.

3rd dream of that night: I got lost on my way to clinical and I forgot my shoes.

I’m always hoping to run into/spot contrapoints somewhere and i had a dream that i finally did at a busboys and poets event. She was so nice at first and we were talking and i was telling her how amazing she was. Then she tried to rape me. I’m assuming this dream is connected to the kavanaugh hearing stuff that’s going on rn but WHY DID MY BRAIN PICK ON CONTRAPOINTS? I love her! But the dream was pretty scary. 

Dream that my eyebrows were so bushy and they had always been so bushy, i had just never noticed, and i was appalled

dream that i was sleeping through meeting deborah for breakfast. wasn’t.

dream that i somehow ended up having a sleepover w/ me and all of the old friends from Ledo’s. i thought it was finally my chance to see if Grady was into me (he wasn’t) then turned to jamie (he was). Everyone looked like high school, hadn’t aged.

stats so far: 15 dreams out of 29 were negative, 5 sexy, 6 about whoever i have feelings for at the time of the dream, 9 on theme of relationships

[parentingguide8-blog]

Son Planned Fake Robbery at Parents HomeAll Three Wound Up Dead

New Post has been published on https://parentinguideto.com/must-see/son-planned-fake-robbery-at-parents-homeall-three-wound-up-dead/

Son Planned Fake Robbery at Parents HomeAll Three Wound Up Dead

It was so simple.

Matthew Lindquist, a 21-year-old Connecticut man, wanted to exchange his dads guns for drugs, so he came up with a plan to fake a robbery at his parents house, intending to blame it on two black guys, according to an arrest affidavit unsealed Tuesday. But the plot went horribly awryand Lindquist and his parents ended up dead.

It all began days before Christmas, when Lindquist made a deal with another man, Sergio Correa, promising to give him his dad's guns in exchange for drugs, according to the 17-page arrest affidavit. Together, the pair would fake the robbery, with Correa tying up Matthew to make it look real, the affidavit says.

If u pull up street from my house and give me a stack Ill show you right where safe is, Matthew Lindquist told Correa in a text on December 19, according to court records.

But moments before executing the plan, Lindquist got panicky and fidgety and tried to run away, Correas non-biological sister Ruth, who was with the two men that night and ultimately charged in the killings, told police.Thats when Sergio Correa hit Lindquist on the back of the head with a machetethen gave his knife to Ruth Correa, who told cops she stabbed Lindquist about 10 times, according to the affidavit. The duo went on to kill Kenneth and Janet Lindquist, steal their belongings, and burn their Griswold home to the ground, Ruth Correa told investigators in May.

Correa was arrested on May 12 and charged with murder, first-degree arson, home invasion, and first-degree robbery in a New London Superior Court, The Washington Post reported. The 23-year-old claimed that Sergio Correa, who has not been charged in the case, is to blame for most of the violence. Hes currently in prison for an unrelated probation violation, and his lawyer, William Gerace, maintains his 26-year-old client was not involved in the scheme, according to the Hartford Courant.

Ruth Correa told police that after stabbing Lindquist and leaving him for dead, they made their way into the house but were surprised by the presence of his 56-year-old father, Kenneth Lindquist. Sergio Correa quickly hit him with a baseball bat, Ruth Correa claimed in the affidavit. Janet, who was 61 years old, later approached them, but Ruth Correa took her to a bedroom, saying she did not have to see this, according to the affidavit.

Correa told investigators she began to loot the homewith her brother grabbing the gunsand took the items to the getaway car. During one of her trips back into the home, she witnessed Sergio Correa choking Janet Lindquist with a string or a rope until she stopped moving, the affidavit says. When Ruth Correa went back into the home a little later, Sergio was strangling the woman again with his foot pressed into her backand said he saw Lindquist trying to reach for her phone, the Post reported.

Before leaving, Sergio Correa lit an exercise ball on fire after directing his sister to pour flammable liquid throughout the home, according to the affidavit.

Ruth Correa told investigators she did not know Kenneth Lindquist was killed but saw his body in the hallway. Lindquist died of homicidal violence including multiple skull fractures and traumatic brain injuries, while Janet Lindquist died of homicidal violence including blunt impact injuries to the head, along with smoke injuries, according to the Courant.

Ruth is scheduled to appear in court on June 6, the Courant reported.

Friends and family of Matthew Lindquist said hed recently lost his job before his death and his dependency on drugs had caused conflict with his father. Two months earlier, Lindquist had a stint in rehab, his sister, Danielle T. Nichols, told authorities.

Sergio Correa has a history of arson and robbery: In 2008, he was arrested twice for "first-degree attempted robbery with a deadly weapon, first-degree assault, first-degree larceny, second-degree arson and criminal use of a weapon," according to the Courant.

According to the affidavit, Ruth Correa once confessed the details of a robbery-turned-arson to a security guard, telling him she has a thing of putting stuff in a guys drink, roofies them, gets them high, then takes their money and whatever she can get of value.

Read more: https://www.thedailybeast.com

[ramialkarmi]

Bill Cosby has been found guilty — here's what happens if you take the pills Cosby described as 'friends to help you relax'

Bill Cosby has been found guilty of sexual assault. 

Cosby was accused of giving sedative drugs to women he wanted to have sex with.

Here are the potential drugs he used, and the effects they have. 

Shortly before Bill Cosby sexually assaulted Andrea Constand, she says, he passed her three blue pills that he called "friends to help you relax."

On Thursday, Cosby was found guilty in a Pennsylvania court on three counts of aggravated indecent assault. He faces up to 30 years in prison.

To strengthen Constand’s case against Cosby, prosecutors in the trial utilized information that he'd previously admitted about the drugs and their role in his sexual encounters, the Associated Press reported.

Cosby has said in a deposition that the pills were the allergy medication Benadryl. But prosecutors in his sexual-assault trial suggested there was reason to believe the drugs were something else, The Los Angeles Times reported in June 2017.

In testimony given last year, Cosby acknowledged that decades ago he got seven prescriptions for sedative drugs called quaaludes to give to women he wanted to have sex with.

A toxicologist who testified for the prosecution said both drugs could have sedative effects that would make a user feel foggy-headed or sleepy.

Benadryl versus quaaludes

After Cosby gave Constand the pills at his suburban Philadelphia home in 2004, she said, he penetrated her with his fingers against her will. She felt so limp, according to her deposition, that she could not push him away or tell him to stop. When Constand called Cosby a year later to ask what the drugs he gave her were, she said he told her he didn't have the name on hand.

"He said he would write it down on a piece of paper and mail it to us," Constand said. "He said that he could not see right now the bottle that he wanted to see."

Regular Benadryl is pink, though the kind marketed for allergies "and sinus" is blue.

In 2005, when Cosby provided police with some of the medication to show that he kept them on hand, the pills he handed over were pink. Montgomery County police officer James Reape, who investigated the case, said on the stand that he "found that to be odd," according to the LA Times.

Quaaludes, on the other hand, are more powerful sedatives that are now illegal.

By suppressing the central nervous system, quaaludes slow breathing and heart rate, often making users feel relaxed or sedated. The effects are similar to those of modern so-called date-rape drugs like "roofies" or Rohypnol, which that did not exist when most of Cosby's accusers say he assaulted them. More than 50 women have accused Cosby of sexual assault and related abuses, but most of those women can't pursue charges because of statute-of-limitations laws. Five additional accusers testified in the recent trial, however.

After quaaludes were produced in labs in India in 1955, doctors in the UK began prescribing them to patients who had trouble sleeping. Quaaludes didn't hit peak popularity in the US until the 1970s — people at dance clubs who took them called them "disco biscuits." Ten years later, the drugs were outlawed after they were found to be dangerous and potentially deadly.

On June 9, forensic toxicologist Timothy Rohrig testified for the prosecution that Constand's symptoms could have been linked to several drugs, including quaaludes and Benadryl, according to The Times.

"Most people think of [Benadryl] as an antihistamine … but one of the actions is it can cause significant sedation," Rohrig said. Prosecutors then asked if the drugs could be strong enough to be used with criminal intent.

"It has been used in a drug to facilitate sexual assault," Rohrig said.

In February, the Cleveland Rape Crisis Center warned the public about the increasing prevalence of predators using Benadryl to incapacitate their victims, describing a mixture that people had created as a "Benadryl Cocktail."

While the jury in Cosby's previous trial ended in a deadlock, the one in this second trial returned the verdict on its second day of deliberations. All three counts are felonies. 

SEE ALSO: Drug deaths in America are rising faster than ever before, and show no signs of slowing down

DON'T MISS: Bill Cosby has been charged — here's what happens if you take the drug he said he obtained for sex

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