#sorry for the small vent here i just feel like i should apologize for the inconsistency here

[satellite-evans]

tolerate it

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Summary: You know your love should be celebrated, but lewis just tolerates it.

Word count: 4.4k+

Warnings: angst, based on the Taylor Swift song

A/N:

hello everyone, this is the second fic that I'm posting from the folkmore series, hope you guys like it, tell me what you think! xxx

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

It was past midnight when you heard the door click open.

The sound was soft, almost hesitant, but it cut through the heavy silence like a blade. Your breath hitched as your eyes flickered toward the entrance, where the dim glow from the hallway outlined the silhouette you had been waiting for.

You had been waiting for him for hours, like you’re just a little kid.

You hated when he made you feel like that.

Vulnerable.

Curled up in the vast, impersonal hotel bed, the sheets cool against your skin, you had stared out at the glittering city beyond the window. The neon lights and distant hum of traffic had been your only companions, pulsing with a life that felt so far away from the hollow quiet of the room.

Lewis had promised he wouldn’t be late.

“Dinner, just us,” he had said, voice warm over the phone, brimming with the kind of reassurance that made you believe in him, in this. “I’ll be back after press.”

You had believed him.

But the plates on the small table remained untouched, the candles you had lit now melted into forgotten wax, their flames long extinguished. Hours had slipped through your fingers, and with them, the naive hope that maybe—just maybe—this time would be different.

The door shut with a muted click, and then he was there.

His posture was tired, his movements sluggish, weighed down by something unseen. The sharp lines of his suit were slightly rumpled, his tie loosened as if he had been pulling at it absently. Shadows clung to his features, exhaustion settling in the creases around his mouth, the faint furrow of his brow.

You knew better than to expect an apology.

Still, you tried.

“You’re late.”

Your voice was quiet, steady, but beneath it was the weight of hours spent in silence, of expectations left unmet, of love given and not quite returned in the way you needed.

Lewis sighed, setting his bag down with a dull thud. “Yeah. Sorry. Meetings ran over.”

A familiar script. The same words, the same excuse. You had heard it before, and yet, some foolish part of you had wanted to believe that this night, this promise, would matter enough for him to keep it.

You swallowed, shifting to sit up. “I waited.”

He glanced at you then, a brief flicker of acknowledgment, as if he was only just realizing that you had been here the whole time, waiting for him to come.

Something about that thought made your throat tighten.

You noticed everything.

The way his shoulders tensed. How he avoided your gaze. The way he kicked off his shoes without care, as if shedding the weight of the day, but not the weight of you. He hadn’t even asked if you had eaten, if you were okay, if you were lonely in the way that made silence unbearable.

“You should’ve eaten without me,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face, his exhaustion evident, but it wasn’t the kind of tiredness that could excuse this.

“I wasn’t hungry,” you admitted, but what you meant was I wanted to eat with you.

Lewis didn’t respond. He just sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped, scrolling through his phone. The light from the screen cast shadows over his face, sharp angles softened by fatigue, but his focus was elsewhere. Not here. Not on you.

You watched him, waiting, willing him to look at you, to see you.

He didn’t.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, the fabric cool beneath your fingertips. “Did you even think about me tonight?”

The question came out softer than you intended, almost fragile.

His thumbs hovered over the screen, a moment of hesitation before he let out a slow breath. “Of course I did.”

Automatic. Distant. A response without weight.

But you noticed.

You noticed everything he didn’t do.

How he didn’t ask how your day was. How he didn’t kiss your forehead. How he didn’t check to see if you were okay.

He had seen the world, built empires, conquered tracks and stadiums, his name spoken in stadiums filled with roaring crowds.

And yet, he couldn’t see you.

The realization lodged itself deep in your chest, an ache that settled between your ribs, suffocating in its quiet devastation. You blinked rapidly, turning away, as if looking at him any longer might shatter something within you.

You had waited by the door like a child waiting for love.

But it never came.

And you feared that it was just the beginning.

The apartment was quiet, save for the soft rustling of pages as you sat curled up on the couch, the worn edges of your book comforting beneath your fingertips. The familiar weight of it grounded you, but the world beyond the pages seemed distant. You barely registered the words you read as your mind wandered. Your eyes flicked over the sentences, but your thoughts weren't really there, drifting elsewhere, like leaves caught in the breeze.

Across from you, Lewis sat at the other end of the couch, his posture slouched, one leg stretched out lazily, his fingers tapping away at his phone screen with a kind of detached urgency. He was completely engrossed, lost in whatever was filling the quiet. The room felt too small for both of you, the space between you stretching impossibly wide, even though you were physically close.

Once, nights like this were your favorite—when the world outside felt like a distant hum, and the two of you could be alone in your own little bubble. You'd lie with your head resting in his lap, his fingers gently combing through your hair, the soft rhythm of his touch calming your racing thoughts. The two of you would talk about everything and nothing—memories that didn't matter, dreams that didn’t make sense, moments that felt significant only because they were shared.

Sometimes, he'd ask about your book, his voice always genuinely curious, like he wanted to know what was going on in your world, in the spaces your mind occupied when it wandered from him. You'd talk about the characters, the plot twists, the themes. He’d listen—really listen—his full attention on you, his eyes never leaving your face. He’d smile at your excitement, never rushing you to finish your thoughts. He cared, you knew he cared.

But now, he barely looked up.

You glanced at him, hoping for something, anything—a sign that he saw you, that he remembered you sitting there, sharing the same space with him, even if you weren’t speaking. You shifted on the couch, a small movement, and waited. But the hum of his phone screen was louder than your quiet longing, the way it flickered in the dim light between you. He didn't even seem to hear the shift in the air, the unspoken distance growing between you both.

"Lewis," you said, your voice tentative, barely louder than a whisper. It felt like a plea, a fragile thread reaching out into the silence.

He didn’t look up, didn’t pause his scrolling. He just hummed, distracted, absorbed in whatever message or notification had taken his attention.

Your throat tightened. You swallowed, trying to push past the rising frustration, the feeling of being invisible. You turned your attention back to your book, but the words were blurry now, swimming on the page. The book’s comfort, its familiarity, was lost, just as everything else was.

Your grip on the book tightened, your knuckles white. The pages felt flimsy, like they might tear under the weight of your thoughts. You tried to read, tried to force the sentences into your mind, but they slipped away, like water through your fingers.

You waited for him to sense the shift. The silence had stretched so long, had settled so thick between you, surely it must have been noticeable. But he didn’t look at you—not once. Not like before.

And then, finally, a sigh. Lewis leaned back against the couch, stretching his long arms above his head, a groan escaping his lips as he relaxed, the tension in his body slowly unwinding. Only then did he lower his phone and glance over at you. "You're quiet," he said, his voice lazy and unbothered. His eyes lingered for a moment, but it wasn’t the kind of look you had hoped for. There was no searching there, no real curiosity. Just a passing observation.

A hollow smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Am I?” The question felt so small, so inconsequential. It barely mattered. Not anymore. It was as if you were asking him if you were still here, if he even noticed the emptiness that had begun to fill the spaces around you.

He frowned slightly, a tiny crease between his brows. He knew something was off—he had to. But instead of asking, instead of trying to understand, he just let the moment slip away. With a casual shrug, he picked up the remote and flicked on the TV, the soft hum of the screen suddenly taking over the room.

The moment passed. Just like that.

You turned another page, pretending to read, though the words no longer had meaning. Your fingers trembled slightly, the book suddenly feeling like an anchor dragging you further into the depths of a silence you didn’t know how to escape.

Lewis? He didn’t notice the way your hands shook as you held the pages. He didn’t notice that the sound of his voice, so dismissive, had rattled something inside you, that the lack of attention hurt in ways you couldn’t put into words. He didn’t see it—the slow, painful unraveling of everything you once had.

But you?

You noticed everything. Everything he does or doesn’t do.

Deep inside, you want to tell him, that he is slipping away. That he isn’t as affectionate as he was before, that his actions hurt more than his words.

But you don’t.

He’ll tell you that you’ve got it wrong somehow and that it’s all in you head.

After all, he so much older and wiser.

And you’re just a kid waiting by the door for him.

And as the hours slipped away, the room remained quiet, save for the dull hum of the television and the soft rustle of your book, neither of you reaching for each other.

Your birthday used to be something special. He always made it a point to do something thoughtful—small surprises that brought a smile to your face, handwritten letters tucked away in places you’d least expect them, flowers arriving at your doorstep, even when he was oceans away. His thoughtfulness had always been a quiet assurance that no matter the distance or how busy life got, you were his priority. He never let the day slip by unnoticed. Last year, he had even flown home in secret, pretending to be too swamped with work, only to surprise you with an intimate dinner on the rooftop, the glow of the city lights reflecting in his eyes as he held your hand and whispered how much you meant to him. You had laughed, a little in disbelief, as you realized what he’d done. It felt like a moment frozen in time, perfect in every way.

But this year… it was different.

You woke up alone. The room was unnervingly quiet, the kind of stillness that made the space feel too large. You blinked into the early morning light, but his side of the bed remained untouched. The sheets were cold, the indentation where he’d lain barely visible. You reached over instinctively, but all that greeted your fingers was the emptiness of a space that should have been filled with warmth. A part of you had hoped that, even in this stillness, you’d find a glimmer of what you once shared. But there was nothing.

You grabbed your phone, half-expecting to see a message from him—a simple “Good morning,” a “Happy birthday,” maybe even an “I love you” to make up for the absence you felt so deeply. But the screen was blank. No notifications. No reminder that it was the day you both used to cherish. You refreshed it, as if somehow you’d missed it, but the silence persisted.

The hours seemed to drag on endlessly. The sun had moved across the sky, casting shadows on the walls of your apartment, and still, there was no word from him.

By the time evening arrived, and the darkness of the night crept into the corners of the room, you were still waiting. Again. You had convinced yourself that maybe there was a plan—maybe he was just waiting for the right moment to surprise you, to make up for the quiet morning. But as the clock ticked, hope started to wither, replaced by a quiet ache in the pit of your stomach.

Then, the door finally creaked open, and Lewis stepped inside. But the man who walked through the door didn’t look like the one you had fallen in love with. His shoulders were slumped with exhaustion, the weight of the day pressing down on him in a way you’d never seen before. The usual spark in his eyes was gone, replaced with the dull haze of someone who had given everything to the outside world, leaving nothing for the person who mattered most.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, like a battle hero’s welcome, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, because you so desperately wanted him to be different than he was, you wanted the old Lewis that you missed so deeply.

He didn’t even look at you as he muttered a distracted, “Hey, love.” He leaned in and kissed your cheek absently, the gesture so distant that it felt more like a routine than an act of affection. He didn’t even stop to meet your gaze, already moving past you, his shoes scuffing against the floor, as though he was tired of the weight of the world and wanted nothing more than to escape the moment.

You swallowed thickly, unsure of what to say, but you couldn’t shake the tight knot forming in your throat. Maybe, just maybe, he was waiting for the perfect moment to reveal something to you—something big, something meaningful that would somehow make up for this strange, cold distance between you both.

“So…” You hesitated, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. “Do you know what today is?” Your words felt like they were slipping through your fingers as soon as you spoke them.

Lewis frowned, his eyes unfocused for a moment, as though he couldn’t place your question in the rush of his thoughts. Then, the realization hit him. His face softened for a split second, but the fleeting look of guilt that flashed across his features only made the ache in your chest grow. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes darting toward the floor in a mix of shame and frustration.

You let out a quiet laugh—one that came from somewhere deep within you, a laugh that held no humor, only the sting of hurt. You tried to mask it, but the hollow sound of it betrayed you.

“Sorry, babe,” he sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Meetings ran long. I completely lost track of the date.” His words were like a dull, apologetic hum in the air, as if they were meant to ease the tension, but instead, they only highlighted the distance between you.

You nodded, your lips twitching into a forced smile. He reached into his bag, pulling out a small box with a vague sense of urgency. It was wrapped in plain paper, and the moment he handed it to you, you already knew. It wasn’t the thoughtfulness that had once marked his gestures, the careful consideration he used to show. It was a generic bracelet, one that was so forgettable it could have been picked up last minute at an airport. You’d seen something just like it in the window of a chain store, the kind of thing you’d never wear, let alone want on a day like today.

You forced another smile, since nowadays you could only force a smile when you were with him. “It’s nice,” you managed to say, your voice distant, as though it wasn’t even yours. You held the bracelet in your hand, feeling the cold metal press against your skin, but it didn’t feel like a gift. It felt like a placeholder—something to fill the space where something meaningful should have been.

Lewis exhaled in relief, completely oblivious to the storm that was rising within you. “Good. I wasn’t sure if you’d like it.” He sat down beside you, but he was already pulling out his phone, his attention already slipping away from you, as though whatever had just happened didn’t matter. The reality of it settled over you like a weight you couldn’t escape.

You stared at him then, at the man you had once known so well, the one who had made you feel seen and cherished. You looked at him and wondered, not for the first time, when he had stopped knowing you. When had he stopped seeing you, truly seeing you, and started drifting through the motions of a relationship that was no longer alive with the passion it once had? Was it the work? The endless hours? The meetings, the obligations, the distractions that had become more important than you? Or had you just started fading into the background, little by little, until you were nothing but a shadow in the life he used to care about?

You wanted to reach out, to shake him, to demand something more—something real, something that would remind you both of what you once had. But instead, you remained silent, the quiet ache in your chest growing with each passing second. The man you had loved with everything you had was slipping away, and you simply had enough.

Everything had led to this moment. Every sigh, every unspoken word, every night you went to bed alone in the same bed you'd once shared with warmth and laughter. Everything had brought you to this painful, inevitable place.

The dinner table was set, every detail carefully arranged. Candles flickered, their soft, warm light casting shadows on the walls. But the warmth didn't reach your heart. It didn't even reach your soul. It was just light, a false promise of something that had long since faded.

Lewis walked in, the familiar sound of his keys hitting the countertop sharp against the heavy silence. He didn’t even take a moment to look at you. Just a glance over his shoulder as he dropped the keys with a slight clink. “Hey,” he said. No kiss. No hug. No warmth. Just that—like an empty word that hung in the air, too thin to mean anything.

You forced a smile, your lips trembling slightly at the edges, betraying the storm inside you. "I made dinner," you said, the words catching in your throat.

He nodded. Barely looked at you. Barely looked at the table. "Looks nice, babe." His eyes were already glued to his phone, the familiar, mindless scroll of distraction. Your heart sank, the sharp sting of his indifference slicing through the fragile walls you’d built around your vulnerability.

The little kid had enough. She was done waiting.

You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms, but you kept your voice steady. You had to. You had to say it. "You’re distracted."

Lewis glanced up at you, his gaze unfocused. "What?"

It was a simple question, a small moment. But to you, it felt like a slap in the face. A reminder that he wasn’t listening. A reminder that you had been shouting in silence for so long, only to hear nothing in return. "You don’t see me anymore, Lewis. Not really."

He sighed, his breath heavy with frustration, his eyes flicking back down to the phone screen. "That’s not fair."

"No," you said, your voice quivering with the weight of everything you couldn’t say. "It’s not fair. I pour my heart into everything I do for you, and all you can do is just tolerate it. Do you know what that makes me feel, huh? Do you?”

His jaw tightened. The subtle movement of his lips, the way his nostrils flared in exasperation—he didn’t want to hear this. But you needed him to. You needed him to understand. And maybe, just maybe, if you said it the right way, if you put it in words, he’d realize what he had been doing to you. To both of you.

"I made you my home, Lewis." You swallowed hard. "My world. I built my life around you—I made you my temple, my mural, my sky. And now?" You took a shaky breath, feeling the tremble in your voice, the crack threatening to split you open. "Now I’m begging just to be a footnote in the story of your life. You don’t care about me. It’s like I don’t even exist. And don’t tell my it’s because of work, don’t you dare because we both know that’s not true. You don’t want me, anymore. You can’t even look up if I ask you something, Lewis. While you’re out there, building other worlds and try to keep your fame, where was I? Huh? Why am I not in your life anymore Lewis? Where’s the man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire? The one who used to soften the sharp edges, who used to make me feel seen, safe, wanted. Were you ever really here, or did I just imagine you because I desperately wanted it to b real Lewis?”

His face paled. You saw it—the way the blood drained from his features, the way your words cut through the surface of his indifference and reached something deeper. But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to make him move, to make him realize how far you’d fallen. The weight of your sacrifice was too much for him to carry.

You bit back the tears, desperate to keep them in check. "I gave you all my best colors," you whispered, almost to yourself. " I loved you so much, Lewis that my love for you should be celebrated. But you? You only tolerate it.”

It was too much to carry. The ache in your chest was unbearable, a deep, suffocating weight that filled every corner of the room. You turned away, feeling the cracks in your heart widen, spreading like a fracture in glass. But this time, Lewis didn’t stop you. This time, he let you walk away.

You could hear the sound of your own breathing, shallow and unsteady, as if the very air around you had thickened with sorrow. Something inside you cracked—small at first, a tiny fracture, but spreading rapidly, until the whole thing was about to shatter.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. Maybe—just maybe—he would realize it now. Maybe the weight of your words, the rawness in your voice, would finally settle in his chest and he would reach for you. Maybe he would stop you, pull you back from the edge, and say the things you’d needed to hear for so long.

But when you turned back, there he was—standing in the same spot, unmoving. Silent. His expression unreadable, like a wall had been erected between the two of you. And that silence—it was the loudest thing in the room. Louder than the flickering candles. Louder than the soft ticking of the clock in the background.

Your stomach twisted, nausea rising in your throat, threatening to choke you. "Say something," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, too soft to hold the weight of the pain, too fragile to withstand the truth. "Please, say something."

Lewis exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face like he was trying to scrub the weariness of life off. "I don’t know what you want me to say."

You let out a breathless, bitter laugh, hollow and broken. "You never do, do you?" Your words hung in the air between you, a delicate thread of hurt and frustration. "You never know what I need, what I want. And it’s killing me."

His brows furrowed, like he couldn’t understand the depth of what you were saying. "That’s not fair"

"Isn’t it?" You gestured between the two of you—at the untouched dinner, the still air, the dim candlelight flickering as though it, too, was struggling to stay alive. "Because I think it is. I think it’s perfectly fair to want the person I love to see me. To really see me."

Lewis ran a hand over his jaw, shaking his head, but it wasn’t a movement of remorse. It was the kind of denial you had seen so many times before, the kind of shrug that told you he didn’t want to acknowledge the weight of your pain. "You’re acting like I don’t care about you. Like I don’t—"

He stopped himself. The hesitation was there, sharp and telling. And you caught it. You always did.

"Like you don’t what, Lewis?" You stepped closer to him, heart pounding, every inch of your body trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. "Like you don’t love me?"

His silence was deafening. It wrapped around you like a suffocating blanket. No words. No comfort. Nothing to hold on to.

And there it was—the truth you had been avoiding for so long, the truth that had been hiding in the spaces between his hollow words, between the gaps in his touch. The truth that had been there all along, but you couldn’t see it until now.

Your throat tightened, and you fought to keep the tears at bay. You refused to cry. Not here. Not now. Not in front of him. Not when he had already given you his answer without saying a word.

"You used to," you whispered, your voice cracking. "Didn’t you?"

Lewis’s jaw clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard, but no words came. No apology. No explanation. He couldn’t give you that, because he didn’t feel it. He didn’t feel you anymore.

And that was it.

The final fracture. The last piece of your heart crumbled away, slipping through your fingers like sand.

"I gave you everything," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, fragile like glass. "I fought so hard for us. But I can’t be the only one fighting anymore."

Lewis’s lips parted, like he wanted to say something. Anything. But no words came. He just stood there, silent, frozen, as though the weight of your confession had paralyzed him.

And then, you made the decision.

You grabbed your coat from the chair, your fingers trembling as you slipped it on. Each movement felt like it took everything out of you. Every step toward the door felt heavier than the last, like the universe itself was trying to hold you back, to keep you from walking away. But you didn’t stop.

Not even when you reached the door. You hesitated, your fingers curling around the handle, torn between the need to leave and the desperate wish that he would stop you. That he would say something. Anything.

Call out your name. Tell you that you mattered. That he loved you. That he wasn’t ready to lose you.

But the silence was louder than anything he could have said.

You opened the door, the cool air of the night pressing against your skin, and you stepped into it. And this time, you didn’t stop.

Not even when the door closed behind you, cutting off the final thread that had connected you to him.

You were done being tolerated.

[emotional-support-demoman]

Ooc:

Hi I am so sorry that I haven't been active recently I'm trying my hardest to keep this account going because all the nice messages and seeing people interact makes my day but it's getting harder and harder to post consistently.

We are coming up to this account being a year old and with the rest of the emotional mercs to I appreciate every one of you and the support you have given to all the accounts despite the ups and downs the active and inactive.

I try my best to keep this account running but I apologize for the consistent inactivity.

[my-my-my]

hiiii can i request a scenario for shinji hirako with an s/o who is usually not physically affectionate but really loves listening to his heartbeat when feeling stressed or overwhelmed?

Oh this is sweet! I think this would be my first Shinji fic. Thank you for requesting it. I'm going to put it with post-TYBW Shinji.

Summary: Work sucks most days, but getting yelled at for something that's not even your fault? That's even worse. Thankfully Shinji knows just what you need.

TW: This is SFW. Workplace abuse, verbal harassment, mentions of stress and incompetence.

“Are you that much of an idiot to not understand where vents should go!?” Yelled Captain Kurotsuchi at you. You flinched as he ranted on about your work in redesigning the Squad 12 barracks.

You and your team were leading the redesign and renovations of various barracks across the Gotei 13 after the war with the Quincies. And you had received the ire of Captain Kurotsuchi. You knew he would be difficult, which is why your superior assigned you as the leader of the small team working with Squad 12. You would be able to handle it. You were focused, diligent and attentive. Any details and requests, no matter how miniscule, would be overseen by you.

Which is why you were exhausted hearing Captain Kurotsuchi rant for umpteenth time today. You looked around apprehensively for Lieutenant Akon. It was much easier to deal with him than the captain, but he was nowhere in sight.

And your colleagues ran off to hide, even though it was their mistake to begin with putting the vent over his computer (and in what world did that make sense anyways!? You wanted to yell at them.)

But no, instead you were being yelled at as you tried your best to apologize for the error. Another colleague ran to remove the ventilation item, but it was too late.

It didn’t help that the rest of Squad 12 looked at you like some kind of idiot, being scolded by the teacher. You hated feeling so small.

So powerless.

You tried biting your lip, squeezing your fists as Captain Kurotsuchi waved you off, muttering how useless you were.

As he walked away, so did you, into another room to calm down. Your colleagues swarmed you, after scurrying away from Captain Kurotsuchi’s fury. It was humiliating, hearing their fake apologies.

“Leave me be, please.” You muttered to them, as they tried consoling you. You couldn’t register what they were saying, but one of them managed to find Lieutenant Akon.

But you were too exhausted and overwhelmed. You had spent over 14 hours doing renovations.

“I’m sorry for this Lieutenant Akon, but I’ll have to resume the renovations tomorrow.” You bowed your head apologetically. “My colleagues here will clean up.” You said, giving them a glare as they sheepishly agreed.

“Thank you for your work today.” Lieutenant Akon said, giving you a wry smile. “I got the gist of what happened. Don’t worry about today. You and your team have done an excellent job so far.” He smiled, “I’ll let the captain know tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” You sighed, bowing your head again.

“And I’ll be around tomorrow. So you can come to me with any questions.” The lieutenant explained, hoping that would make you feel better.

You gave him a soft smile, but left the barracks exhausted. You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. Renovations were already hard work, and to have someone call you an idiot and every other related word at you, for more than 10 hours?

You didn’t realize, but you were shaking in fury.

“Hey, doll. What’s with the frown?” You knew that voice from anywhere.

And after the day you’ve had, it was a voice you needed to hear.

Without even thinking, you wrapped your arms around Captain Hirako. He immediately tensed at the sudden motion, but relaxed as he wrapped your arms back. Shinji frowned slightly, noticing the shakes your body was making.

“Why don’tcha come back to my office?” He held you closer, stroking your back. “I’ll play your favourite record and we can open those snacks we’ve been savin’ for, ok?” You nodded your head in his chest, as he held your hand, walking towards the Squad 5 barracks.

It wasn’t Shinji’s favourite genre of music, but it helped you relax. The two of you were lounging in the loveseat couch in his office, your body on top of his, laying peacefully as the music filled the room.

Your shaking stopped, thankfully. Shinji looked down as he stroked your hair. It wasn’t often you would want physical affection, so Shinji savoured the moments when they came.

He just hated how it would come to be. What sort of anger, frustration and ineptitudes you must have faced to lead you to this state. You had fallen asleep in his arms, as you cried into his chest about the awful day you had.

Shinji wanted to go down to the Squad 12 barracks and yell at Kurotsuchi on your behalf, but you would have been more upset. Instead, playing a record that soothed you, having your favourite snacks on hand, and of course his presence, was enough to calm you down.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep in his arms either. The lull of Shinji’s heartbeat, the warmth of his embrace, and his long, thin fingers, stroking your hair and body, put you in a daze. You murmured to him, with sleep lacing your voice, of what happened. Shinji would squeeze your arm in reassurance, hold you closer to him as he kissed your forehead.

Whatever had happened before, whatever will happen later, will never matter, you thought to yourself. Unconsciously you snuggled closer into Shinji’s chest.

The tenderness of Shinji’s love for you was enough to persevere – tomorrow will just be another day.

Thank you for requesting this, anon! I hope this is what you had in mind.

This is the song I was listening to, that would also play in the final scene. Home - Resonance

[sister-lucifer]

Apology, With Tears 

Lucifer x Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst/Comfort

Summary: Lucifer comforts you during a hard time, and reminds you that your feelings are always welcome with him

Content/Warnings: Comfort, guilt, angst with happy ending, implied venting (the source of anguish itself isn’t specified, please project whatever issue you may be having onto this fic /srs)

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio! 

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

“I-I’m sorry….” 

Your voice was so small. Shockingly, terrifyingly so. For a moment Lucifer froze, unsure if he had really heard it. The words were as fragile as a single snowflake landing on the bare concrete, ready to break and melt into oblivion at any moment. They were as quiet as the coo of a dove in a raging thunderstorm, and yet they shook Lucifer to his very core. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I’m sorry, Lucifer…” 

There was a small part of him that thought maybe the repetition would bring clarity, but no such luck. Gently he hooked two fingers under your chin, tilting your head up towards him in a slow manner so that you’d have ample opportunity to resist him if you’d like. 

You did not. You allowed him to meet your eyes with his. 

That was the softest you’ve ever seen his gaze. 

The sharp brows that were usually taut with annoyance were furrowed just slightly in such a way that you could tell Lucifer didn’t even know he was doing it. He would never purposely let concern show so obviously, but it seems he was preoccupied with other, more pressing concerns at the moment. 

Something sorrowful in the swirling red of his eyes stabbed into your heart with a pang of guilt. To know you had caused Lucifer—the chronically overworked head of house—such worry brought a heaving sob from you. 

The last of your resilience disappeared like a flame in the wind. The tears flowed freely, and there was no stopping them. They ran fast down your cheeks and fell into your shaking palms and stained your shirt. They were shamefully, burning hot, like liquid fire on your face, but once they fell to your lap you could not feel them. You brought up an arm to cover your eyes, the tears soaking into your sleeve and soon after your skin. 

“I’m…I’m sorry, I—“ 

“Please, please stop saying that, my love….” 

The words are surprising, but even in your shock you can’t bring yourself to look up at Lucifer. 

“Why…” He begins, at a loss for words for the first time since he can remember. 

“…Why do you keep apologizing?” 

You thought you’d have an immediate answer, and yet when you open your mouth no words come. That should be an easy question. You knew why. 

Didn’t you? 

You have to search a bit more before you even think of speaking. 

“I just…I feel bad for…b-being like this—“ 

“Being like what?!” Lucifer interrupts, and now his confusion and desperation is showing through. He’s not raising his voice and yet his words hold a sense of urgency akin to that of a scream for help. He isn’t angry, but he is so overwhelmingly worried. 

“I…I-I shouldn’t…” You have to fish around in the word pool a bit more before pulling out the right ones. “I shouldn’t be…making you deal with this, i-it’s my problem, I can handle it, I…” 

The pause is heavy. Unbearably, crushingly heavy. 

“I shouldn’t be doing this to you…” 

It is in this moment that Lucifer’s black heart shatters into countless pieces. The larger fragments linger in their place, the smaller splinters go flying off in all directions. It is likely that he will never recover all of them. There is no way to when something like this happens. He knows that you have felt the same. You have lost many pieces of your heart along the way here. 

Fortunately, Lucifer has some to spare. 

“You aren’t doing anything to me, my love…” He assures you, taking your hands in his. His grip is loose, encouraging you to follow his movements instead of forcing you. 

“You talk about yourself as if you are some terrible, laborious thing that must be dealt with against all will. I’m not here because I am forced to or because I feel I must, or else. If I thought this wasn’t a serious matter I would have walked out of this room long ago.” 

He’s right. You know he’s right. Living with six unruly little brothers means Lucifer has a very high tolerance for emotional turmoil. You’ve seen him shoo his bickering brothers away or send an injured Mammon off with no more than a ‘good luck’ and a wave of his hand. He knew his brothers could deal with themselves. 

But you? You were not them, but he still knew exactly what you needed.

“You are not some heavy burden forced on my shoulders, I choose to be here. You have nothing to apologize for because I am asking you to seek me out for help.” 

A gloved thumb wipes a tear from your cheek, and for the first time you meet Lucifer’s gaze on your own. His expression is lighter somehow,  brows not pressed quite so tightly together. 

“Hardships cannot be endured alone, that is a fact. They are meant to be shared. So please, no more ‘sorry.’ Apologies are for when you do something wrong…like how a certain twin keeps eating the drywall in the common room…” 

You can’t help but laugh at that. It’s weak, hardly intelligible through your labored breathing, but Lucifer hears it. 

The smile that crosses his lips is merely a ghost, gone in a moment. 

But you see it. 

It comforts you in such a way that it destroys every defensive wall you had been fighting so hard to keep up. Suddenly you’re reaching for him, gripping onto his uniform shirt with aching fingers before pulling him to you. A loud sob echoes through you as you hide your face against his chest, hot tears leaving trails down his button up. 

If you were anyone else in any other scenario, Lucifer would probably be a bit appalled at how you were ruining his freshly ironed uniform. 

And yet, the thought never even crossed his mind.

A tender hand strokes the back of your head, and the other ushers you up into a more comfortable sitting position in his lap. 

He doesn’t shush you, or tell you it’s okay, because it isn’t. But it doesn’t have to be. He knows you will calm yourself in your own time. 

Until then, he is more than content to stay right here. 

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 1,060

Picture NOT mine.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW

Reading time (Roughly) - 12 minutes

This one was actually a request, which I don't typically do, but sometimes I simply can't resist!

Tag(s) - @rishdrago

With a tired sigh (Y/n) sat the last of her groceries onto the counter in her kitchen. It was another long day at work, with another grueling case coming to a close. While she loves her job, sometimes it really takes a toll on her. But now at home all she needs to worry about is putting away her groceries, and making a quick dinner. Easy enough. If it wasn't for the sound of a floorboard creaking in the hallway that set her into fight or flight mode.

Spinning on her heel in an instant, she unholstered her pistol and aimed at the doorway to the hallway. "You really messed up you know, but if you know what's good for you, you'll come into the light nice and slow. Otherwise you're gonna leave my house in an ambulance, or a body bag." (Y/n) called out to the would be intruder, bracing herself for a potential firefight. But when the intruder rounded the corner, and came into sight, she nearly dropped her gun. "Frank?" She breathed out in a whisper, her arms falling to her sides. "Frank's dead." He muttered mournfully. "You look pretty fucking alive to me." She sassed as she holstered her pistol, knowing deep down that she could still trust Frank with her life.

The behemoth of a man simply shrugged his shoulders, taking a small first step into the room, as if he was testing the water. "What are you doing here?" She asked turning back to her groceries, while letting him come into the room at his own pace. "I killed Gianni Franco." He stated as he walked up to the other side of the counter, leaving the space between them to prove he meant her no harm. "Trust me Frank, I am well aware of that. You do realize I'm still a detective right? And I'm still friends with Jake you know, so I'm the one he goes to, to vent about you." She glanced his way, trying to get a read of his reaction to her words.

He seemed unbothered, which really didn't surprise her. "I'm sorry." Now that surprised her. Setting the box of noodles down, she turned her full attention to Frank. "Why are you apologizing to me? I'm not the one you should apologize to." She pointed out, but Frank didn't seem bothered, as he casually scratched at the scruff on his face. "Frank why are you here?" She asked now standing across from him at the counter, looking into his eyes which once swirled with so much life. "I don't know... I'm not exactly sure what to do now." He admitted.

"Jake would tell you to turn yourself in." (Y/n) mused with a small smile, her words making him chuckle softly under his breath, a sound she had missed more than she ever realized until now. "That's why I came to you." He admitted, now leaning against the counter. "I knew you wouldn't arrest me on the spot like Jake, and I could just talk to you." Frank admitted with a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"Well that's where me and Jake are different, I actually believe you're doing the world good by killing those guys. People like that have to much money and power for us to touch, and we could use a vigilante to even out the odds." She hummed as she grabbed a beer from the fridge, sliding it across the counter to Frank, who took it with a small mutter of thanks. "I knew you'd feel that way." He said before sipping his beer. "Then why didn't you come to me sooner?" She asked as she leaned again the counter.

"Because I don't want you trying to join me." He stated matter-of-factly, making (Y/n) chuckle softly. "That's fair I guess, but what's changed? Why come to me now?" She pried, hoping he would open up to her. "I had a dream about you last night." His words stuck a cord in (Y/n)'s heart, one she didn't realize was still there until now. "A dream?" She played off her nerves like a natural, making her glad she was trained to hide her true emotions, in order to effectively interrogate suspects.

"It started as a nightmare, I was reliving their deaths." She knew he was referring to his family, so she didn't pry for clarification, knowing it only hurt him to talk about them. "But before I could wake up, you appeared from the shadows. You didn't say anything, you just..." He trailed off as he stared at his beer. "You just pulled me into a hug, and held me while I cried for them." (Y/n)'s heart broke at his admittance, she knew he hated showing vulnerably before he lost his family, let alone now that he's The Punisher.

"It made me realize how much I've missed you, and I also realized I can't keep doing this alone, I can't keep being alone." He looked up to her, his eyes ever so glossy. "I know Julie would want me to move on, to come to terms with what happened. But I couldn't do that while the Franco's were still alive and free." He sipped his beer. "But now... Now I need help getting through this, and you're the only one that can help me (Y/n)." Frank wanted to hold her hand as he spoke, but he resisted the urge.

"I'll always be here for you Frank." She assured him, her words pulling a genuine smile from him. "How about I make us some dinner, and we can figure out where to go from there." She offered, smiling when he nodded in agreement. "You should stay here tonight, get a shower and have some normalcy for a change." She added. "Are you trying to say I smell bad?" He asked with a playful smirk.

"Frank dear I've been holding my breath this entire time." (Y/n) joked, making him roll his eyes, despite his smile. "Still a smartass I see." He huffed. "You wouldn't have it any other way." She sassed before pointing to the hallway. "You still remember where the guestroom is." She added, smiling when he nodded and walked off to take a shower while she cooked dinner.

"Well what are you planning on doing now that you've dealt with the Franco family?" (Y/n) asked before she finished off the last bite of her dinner. "There are still people who are not punished by the justice system." Frank stated having finished his dinner long before she had. "Are you planning on doing to them what you did to the Franco's?" She asked. "Only to those who deserve it." Frank clarified, setting (Y/n)'s mind at ease.

"I'm glad you've come to me Frank, but I'm unbelievably exhausted, and I need to get some sleep." She rose from her seat, picking up her plate, and moving to grab his. Frank took her plate, and grabbed his own. "I'll deal with the dishes, go to bed, we can talk more in the morning." He insisted. "Okay thank you." She leaned over and pecked his temple like she used to as a quick thanks. "Oh and I forgot to ask, you didn't break any windows to get in did you?" She asked.

"No don't worry, I just picked the lock on the back door." He shrugged casually. "You still have that spare key I gave you don't you?" She arched a brow at him, and his faint smile gave him away. "Goodnight Frank." She called as she walked away into the hall. "Goodnight (Y/n)." He called back to her. When (Y/n) reached her bedroom, she began shedding off her clothes, in desperate need of a warm shower before going to bed.

As the water washed over her sore muscles, (Y/n)'s mind drifted to Frank. She'd been so torn up when he was declared dead, and mourned for him and his family for many months. They were a big part of her life, they were family to her. Even though deep down (Y/n) had loved Frank in a deeper more heart wrenching way. She knew it wasn't right, she knew that then, and even now she feels guilty for it.

She never acted on it, and never intended on trying to take him as her own. He was happy and he deserved the love he already had with Julie. Now things are different, but it still doesn't feel right, even if it's been over a year since she passed. He clearly still loved her, and (Y/n) wasn't going to make a fool of herself, and potentially push him away and loose him again. Still she couldn't deny the way her heart fluttered at the sight of him again, so much more gruff and rugged.

And knowing that he trusted her enough to come to her made her head spin. By the time she finished her shower, her eyes grew heavy with sleep. Her mind was still stuck on Frank, even as she crawled between the sheets. She wondered idly if he would still be here in the morning, or if he'd ever come back when he did leave. As she began drifting to sleep, she heard the sound of the guestroom door opening and closing. Telling her he was still here, and most likely would still be come morning.

(Y/n)'s sleep was dreamless and peaceful, which was better than she'd had in weeks. While Frank's dreams were chaotic and filled with memories that still hurt him oh so deeply. He dreamt of his children, of his wife, of the look of betrayal and hurt on Jakes face. Then he dreamt of (Y/n), and her never ending acceptance of the choices he's made. He felt at ease while he dreamt of her, his tense muscles relaxing as he dreamt of walking with her beside a lake.

She always had a way of putting him at ease, just by simply being there and listening to him vent whenever he needed it. He knew she meant more to him than just a friend, but he much like her, had never intended on exploring those feelings. But now after everything, despite knowing he's putting her in danger by coming around, Frank knows he needs her. He needs her help more than ever, and he knows deep down that Julie would understand.

When morning came Frank woke up to the smell of breakfast. Something he's missed more than he realized until now. In a bit of a groggy daze Frank wondered into the kitchen, dressed in the sleep clothes he found in the closet in the guestroom. "Mornin' bud." (Y/n) mused as she pushed a fresh cup of coffee his way. "Morning." He muttered as he slipped at the hot brew, slightly surprised she remembered how he likes his coffee.

"You want some breakfast?" She asked as she pulled two plates from the cupboard. "Please." He nodded his head in agreement. "Good because I made plenty." She mused with a smile, as she placed a plate in front of him. "I'm glad you're still here and you didn't slip away in the night." She added sincerely. "I half expected that last night would be the last time I'd ever see you." Her words cut him deeper than he would have expected, but he understood where she was coming from.

"Like I said, I need your help." Frank said earnestly. "Well then, what's the plan?" She asked as she sat beside him with her own plate. "I don't really have a plan, but for now I think we'll just take it one day at a time, and figure it all out." He shrugged. "Wow the Frank Castle doesn't have a plan, that's a first." (Y/n) joked, making him chuckle. "So are you planning on staying here?" She asked a few moments later. "No I don't want to put you at risk of being caught hiding a fugitive." He shook his head.

"I appreciate that." She hummed softly, having worried a bit about that last night. "I think it'll be best if I just come in the evenings when I need... Well a shoulder to lean on I guess." He said, picking at his food a little. "And when you need patched up I imagine." She added, trying to lighten the mood a bit, and Frank agreed with a small chuckle. "Yeah I'm sure I probably will come to you when I need patched up." He smiled at her before going back to eating his breakfast. "I'll be sure to stock up on some supplies." (Y/n) mused more to herself, than to Frank.

(Y/n)'s pager went off with a shrill beeping, signaling that it was time to get to work. Her partner letting her know they already had a new case to work on. "Well that's my queue, I've gotta get going. I'll see you later Frank, don't worry about the dishes, I'll deal with that when I get home." (Y/n) moved back into the kitchen, placing her half empty plate into the sink for now. "Hey (Y/n)." Frank called to her before she could rush off. "Yeah?" She asked, turning her attention to him. "Thank you, for everything." He stood from his seat, and crossed the room, pulling her into a hug. "You're welcome Frank." She hummed as she hugged him back, feeling as though she's already made a difference in his chaotic life.

Buy me a coffee sometime? ☕️

(Click the coffee for my Kofi link, IT'S NOT NECESSARY BTW.)

I honestly couldn't think of a better way of ending this one, but I hope it was satisfactory either way. I'm a little rusty, as I haven't consistently written in ages, so I apologize if it didn't turn out as good as you hoped. (゜-゜)

[hariet436]

As Belle, you have always known you would leave the palace. Even if clause 99 hadn’t existed, the princes are out of reach for you. The gap between the world that you and them live in was just too great to ever bridge.

That’s why you decided to outright deny having any feelings for them. You were being cruel. You told them that those moments you two spent together meant nothing to you, and that you two can never be anything. Oh, what a good actress you were not tearing up while uttering those cruel words in the most convincing way.

After a heated exchange of painful words and expressions, you were left alone in the room. As soon as the prince leaves, tears fell from your eyes. You didn’t try to stop it though. There was no sob, neither did you expression change. You just stood lifelessly there, letting the tears out as the hot liquid burnt on your cheeks and dripped to the floor. Yet the most unexpected thing happens - you hear the doorknob being turned!

1. Leon Dompteur

- he felt like he said something he shouldn’t have to you. With a small grunt, he opens the door with the intention of apologizing and asking to end things on a peaceful note.

- If parting ways is truly what you want, he had no choice but to respect that wish. Yet, he was his with the sight of you crying. Your eyes are so empty, so painful. In a rush, he strode urgently to you and wrapped his arms tightly around you, making you gasp.

- “W-why are you still here, Leon…!?”

- “If I hadn’t entered the room again, would you have continued to suffer alone like this? I should have known you were clearly lying earlier…”

- You two were going to have a much more honest conversation with each other. It was unclear what the future holds, but at least now that Leon know how you truly felt, he will never let go so easily of his beloved Belle.

2. Licht Klein

- Licht was hurt badly by your words. Was he really that unworthy of your time? Are you just that cold-hearted? Was the warmth he felt from you all a lie? He needed an answer. With that in mind, he re-entered the room, hoping you were still there.

- He froze upon seeing you silently crying with your eyes closed, your expression blank and empty, unlike he has ever seen before. Suddenly, everything clicked and there was a glimmer of hope in his ruby red eyes.

- “I knew it…” Licht mumbled quietly. You opened your eyes upon hearing the words being uttered, and was flustered when you see Licht there. You turned away out of shame, knowing you just said the cruelest things.

- Licht didn’t want to lose anyone he love anymore. With resolved steps, he made his way to you and embraced your body.

- “Please…if you act like this, both of us will be in pain. At least…I want to know what your heart desires the most.”

- The conversation wasn’t easy, but it was needed to figure out a solution that was optimal for both parties.

3. Yves Kloss

- Yves stomped into the kitchen, wanting to bake anything at all to vent his frustration. He was sure there was something between him and Belle, so he thought she would agree to his proposal that she stays in the palace. His mind races with embarrassment and a bit of anger. Was he the clueless one again?

- After half an hour, he finished making some rose pastries. The first person that pops up in his mind at that point wasn’t any of his brother, but Belle. Maybe he can make up for the argument earlier if he just give her the pastries made by the Yves Kloss!

- The first sight that greeted him was of Belle crying, her face behind her hands, scrambling to hide her puffy eyes. Yves panics and rushes inside the room.

- “W-wait, Belle, were you crying because of something I said…? I-I’m sorry! H-have some pastries…!” Yves tried to sooth her and patted her back. Feeling the warmth of this clumsy yet adorable gesture, you wiped your tears away.

- “No, it’s not your fault, Yves, please…”

- “Then what is it? Please tell me, Belle! I-I don’t want you to cry in solitude like I used to…”

- That afternoon, Belle and Yves had a heartfelt conversation. You have decided you won’t lie about your reverence for him anymore.

4. Jin Grandet

- unlike his brothers, Jin was sensitive to a woman’s feelings. He can pick up the signs that you were lying. But he can’t understand why - was she afraid of something? Maybe it was their difference in status…their worlds. Maybe parting ways was the best way for both of them.

- However, Jin’s heart was telling him otherwise. It was the love of his life! He should at least fight for it - or else he would feel continue to feel hollow - unable to express himself to anyone.

- With a determined mind, Jin opens the door only to witness Belle quietly sobbing, her pearly tears falling down the sides of her cheeks. She looks…solemn and sorrowful. No, if parting ways was just going to make them both like this for a lifetime, then he’d rather weather all of the court politics only to have Belle by his side.

- “Why weren’t you just honest from the start…” Jin sighs. He takes your hand and takes you out of the room. “Let’s go, Belle. We shall have a date together and you’ll change your mind about me!”

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Under The Radar 6

Dark! Steve Roger x Kiwi! Reader

Dividers by @Strangergraphics

Warnings:

This story contains themes of emotional manipulation, power imbalance, dubious consent, toxic relationships, and psychological control. It deals with difficult subjects such as forced dependency and mental/emotional abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

Description: Kiwi thought she had her life under control—until a chance invitation to the Maldives from her former friend pulls her into a web of manipulation and control. What starts as a luxurious vacation turns into a slow descent into captivity as Steve, the wealthy man funding her escape from reality, begins to tighten his grip on her life. Now trapped in a toxic relationship where affection becomes control, Kiwi must navigate a world where every decision is made for her, every boundary crossed, and escape seems impossible.

Is it too late to reclaim her freedom, or will she succumb to the life Steve has crafted for her?

Story Masterlist

The weight of it all felt crushing as I sat in my small, dimly lit apartment. The furniture I’d once been so proud of now mocked me a reminder of how quickly everything can fall apart. The life I’d fought so hard to build, the independence I’d clung to, was crumbling right in front of my eyes.

Sitting at my kitchen table, I stared at my laptop, scrolling through the same job listings I’d seen a thousand times. Every option felt like a dead end. My heart raced each time I filled out another application, hoping this one might be different. But deep down, I knew better.

No matter how many resumes I sent, how many interviews I nailed, Steve had his boot on my neck, and it felt like he was pressing down harder every day. This was a long, drawn-out game for him, and I was trapped on the board with no way off.

Out of sheer desperation, I grabbed my phone and started dialing a few of the connections I’d made back when I worked for Rogers and Co. Maybe one of them could offer some advice, a lead, anything to help me claw my way out of this nightmare. But each call was met with awkward hesitations and thinly veiled excuses.

“Sorry, Kiwi. I wish I could help, but…we’re not hiring right now.”

“We’ll keep your resume on file, but, you know…the market’s really tight.”

It was painfully clear: no one wanted anything to do with me. Not with Steve Rogers involved.

"Just say sorry," Natasha said. She’d called to check on me, and with everything piling up, I ended up venting it all. And this was her big advice.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I replied, feeling the frustration build.

“It doesn’t matter,” she sighed. “Steve feels wronged. So, unless you want to go back to barely scraping by or, worse, moving back in with your parents, you’re going to go to him and apologize."

The weight of everything was crushing me. My savings were dwindling fast, and rent was looming. With no steady income, my anxiety was through the roof. I needed answers. I needed him.

So, I called Steve. Blocked. His work number? Blocked. I even tried reaching out to human resources. No one picked up. It was like I didn’t exist anymore.

With no other options left, I did the only thing I could think of, I went to his house.

By the time I got there, I was a wreck. My mind was a mess of emotions—desperation, anger, shame. I had no idea what I was going to say or how this would go, but I needed to see him. I needed to fix this.

The guard, Curtis, stepped in front of me just as I reached the gated mansion. “I’m sorry, Kiwi, you can’t come in.” Sympathy softened his eyes.

Not that long ago, he’d greet me with a big smile and a cheerful "good morning." Amazing how quickly things could change.

“Please, Curtis, I just need to talk to him,” I pleaded, my voice shaky.

He shook his head, unmoved. “You know I can’t let you in. You’ll need to leave.” His voice soft and regretful

Panic was clawing at my chest. I knew Steve had to be home by now. As long as he didn’t have any impromptu meetings, he should be here. I just needed to stall a little longer.

I continued to beg, keeping Curtis distracted when I saw Steve’s sleek black SUV pulling up to the gate. My breath hitched as the window rolled down.

“Steve! Please!” I rushed to his car, desperation leaking from every word. But then I froze when I saw a girl in the passenger seat. Small, delicate, and almost terrified.

Steve rolled down his window, sunglasses on, face completely unreadable. "This is Lemon," he said smoothly, like introducing her was the most natural thing in the world. "She's my new PA."

The world tilted beneath me. My replacement. Lemon. She looked at me with wide, uncertain eyes, like she didn’t know whether to be worried or sorry.

I couldn’t speak. All I could do was stare at her, then back at Steve. She was everything I wasn’t-thin, polished, perfect. Her nails were immaculate, her hair shiny and neat. I glanced down at the soft pooch of my belly, the wideness of my hips. I could feel every flaw like it was magnified under a spotlight.

The car inched forward, and just as Curtis started to pull me back, I whispered, “Please... I’ll do anything.”

Steve’s car came to a sudden stop. He turned to me, then, after what felt like an eternity, he told Curtis to let me go.

It took me a second to process what he’d said. He was letting me in. I scrambled into the backseat, heart pounding, unsure of what to expect.

Steve was calm, collected, as he spoke to Lemon about tomorrow’s schedule. He told her which meetings to cancel, which to reschedule, even what kind of coffee he wanted in the morning. I listened in disbelief. He’d never done this with me. I always had to guess what he wanted, figure things out on my own. But with Lemon? Everything was smooth. Easy.

I couldn’t help the sinking feeling that washed over me. I felt like I was being crushed under the weight of my own inadequacy.

The car stopped at in front of Steve’s mansion as a servant came to collect the keys from him. Lemon stepped out, her heels clicking against the pavement, and Steve followed, giving her a few more instructions before dismissing her. I watched them, feeling completely out of place.

Steve knocked on the window, signaling for me to get out. I scrambled out of the car, still trying to make sense of everything as I followed him up the grand staircase. My breath was shaky, my legs heavy, and with each step, it felt like the walls were closing in around me.

By the time we reached his home office, I was suffocating under the realization that I had just walked right back into his world, willingly. And this time, I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it out.

Steve moved around the room, his back to me, busy with something I couldn’t focus on. My mind was spinning, trapped in the loop of my own panic and anger, trying to think of my next move. What the hell am I doing here?

It wasn’t until he stopped and stood directly in front of me that I snapped back into the moment. Without thinking, without giving myself time to reconsider, I slapped him…hard.

The sting on my palm wasn’t nearly enough to calm the storm inside me. Before he could even react, I hit him again, this time pounding my fists against his chest, pushing with everything I had. But he didn’t budge. It was like hitting a brick wall. He just stood there, solid, unaffected.

“How could you do this to me?” I screamed, tears burning my eyes. “How could you ruin me like this?”

My fists kept slamming into him. I couldn’t stop. “I worked so hard! I wasted so much time, so much effort on you!” My voice cracked, spilling out every bit of frustration that had been boiling beneath the surface for months.

Eventually, the fight drained out of me, my hands falling limp against his chest. But the words kept coming, tumbling out as tears streamed down my face. “You knew, Steve. You knew my situation. You knew I was struggling, and you still choose to play with my livelihood like it’s some kind of fucking game.”

I was sobbing now, choking on the unfairness of it all. “I did everything right,” I whispered “and I’m still fucked.”

I looked up at him, my vision blurry from the tears, and the truth spilled out before I could stop it. “You ruined my fucking life.”

Another wave of rage surged through me, and I raised my hand to slap him again. But this time, he caught me. His grip was firm as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward one of the chairs in his office, forcing me to sit down.

Steve didn’t react to my outburst. He didn’t even look angry. Instead, he stood in front of me, calm and collected, like I hadn’t just tried to claw at him.

“This is life,” he said, his voice maddeningly leveled. “No one’s going to cater to you for free.”

I screamed back, “I was your employee! You were supposed to treat me with some decency!”

He shook his head, as if I didn’t get it. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

His hands slid into his pockets; his gaze fixed on me. It was then that I noticed the way he positioned himself, never quite lowering to my level, leaving me at eye-level with his crotch. My stomach churned with the realization.

"I'm attracted to you," Steve admitted, his voice calm and unsettling. "I've had a thing for you since university." He paused, letting the words sink in. "I convinced Sharon to invite you to the Maldives so I could see you again, to... reconnect." He smirked, as if the memory amused him. "And during the trip, I fell for you all over again. It’s always been you."

"Did Sharon know?" I asked.

"Of course she did. Sharon always knew. She was just keeping your spot warm until you were ready for it. But her ego eventually got in the way."

I stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. What kind of twisted logic was this?

"She tried her best to keep you from going on the trip, but I was always a step ahead."

"And when she got sick? Was that your plan too?"

"Just luck," he replied, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. "But it made it a hell of a lot easier to get close to you."

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, looking away, not sure what else to say. “I didn’t realize.”

Steve’s expression hardened, a flicker of something darker crossing his face. “Bullshit,” he spat. “You didn’t want to realize.”

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped myself. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered now. I was ruined, jobless, broke, and desperate.

“Please,” I began, my voice trembling, “if you won’t hire me back as your assistant, could you at least help me get hired at another department? Or, if you’re still interested in... dating me…maybe you could find me something elsewhere, another company maybe?”

Steve chuckled, the sound low and dark, making my skin crawl. He began to circle me slowly, touching my hair in the process. But when he spoke again, his voice was firm and cold. “Dating?” He laughed again, this time with more venom. “We’ll be doing a lot more than just dating.” He stopped in front of me, leaning down just slightly, and I could feel the weight of his presence pressing down on me.

“What do I get in return?” he begins in a low voice, then raises it, “Ungratefulness? Boundaries?!”

 I froze.

Steve’s eyes locked onto mine, his voice dropping into a whisper that chilled me to the bone. “I want you. And I don’t mind giving you a comfortable life. A life where you’ll never have to worry about money again. But if you want that, you’ll live under my thumb. You’ll have to be mine, in every way.”

My breath caught in my throat. I knew what he was offering, it was everything I thought I wanted at the cost of my freedom, my dignity. “It’s up to you.” He straightens his body slightly widening his stance “What do you want me to do?” I whispered. Silently accepting the offer.

I swallowed, my pride sinking into my chest. I had always been so careful, so determined to keep Steve at a distance, to not let him pull me into this world entirely. But now…

The room felt too small, the air too thick. My hands trembled as I clenched them into fists on her lap.

Steve just smirked and his eyes trailed downwards, I followed his line of sight. A sizeable bulge formed, struggling against the zipper of his slacks. I wanted to cry again, Steve probably sensing this “It’s ok, you’ll be able to handle it, you were able to before”

His words take me aback. "What’s that supposed to mean?" I ask.

“You don’t remember all the fun we had that last week in the Maldives? Or when we got back to my mansion?”

I try to recall, but it’s all a blur. Every memory from that time feels hazy; all I remember is feeling constantly nauseous and exhausted.

“What did you do?” I asked

He grins, as if he’s holding on to a secret.

“Welp, it doesn’t matter now.” He moves to unzip his pants freeing his cock from its constraints, and there it was. Solid, looking angry and red with thick veins bulging all over. “We have other matters to attend to.”

I start shaking my head frantically, trying to pull away, but Steve grips my shoulder to hold me still.

"Ah, ah," he says, tone firm. "We're way past that. And remember, things can only get worse from here on out. Don’t just think about yourself, consider your parents and everything they worked so hard for. I can drag this out for as long as I want"

My attention broke once his cock twitched in my face.

This was thrilling for him. Whether it was the idea of me submitting or the prospect of a twisted game of cat and mouse, it hit me…I would never be free of Steve Rogers. I looked up at him, eyes pleading, silently begging him to let me keep my dignity. But he didn’t care.

"I'm waiting," he says in a mocking tone, lifting my chin with his finger before resting his hands on his hips, clearly patronizing me.

I look up to the ceiling a moment trying to hold my tears back, before being forced to face his cock again.

With shaky hands, I went to grab his shaft, it felt so hot, burning almost.

“Go ahead.” He coaxed.

I drew my head closer, sticking out my tongue, this was actually happening. Steve wasn’t going to stop me, and I will forever be known as the woman who whored herself out for a fucking job. God only knows what they’d say, if Steve decided to make this a habit. ‘Oh, look it’s the girl who trades pussy for benefits,’.

My tongue made contact with the head, it felt warm, and his musk quickly invaded my senses.

Fuck it.

I just needed to get to the other side of this, and the best way to do it was to dive in it. I did my best to pull him into my mouth, but he was so big, and girthy. When I heard his moans, I started a game plan, building a rhythm I could get used to, so I wouldn’t be too uncomfortable.

But as always, Steve had to fuck that up. He immediately grabbed the back of my head and began swiftly pushing his cock in and out of my mouth. At first, he was gentle, or as gentle as one could be in this situation. Then he was forcing more of himself deeper, and before I knew it, his pubic region was pushing right up against my nose, hairs and all.

I couldn’t take it; I could feel my body preparing to vomit as I began to wretch. I frantically slapped at Steve’s thighs, to make him stop, but he just went harder. My spit started foaming around the areas where my mouth met his cock, dripping down my chin and falling onto my chest.

Tears pouring through my eyes as I begged for this to be over. Steve eventually did meet his climax, forcefully pushing my head into his crotch as he came down my throat, shivering from his climax. making it extremely difficult to breathe. I tried to push against him, but he was so much stronger.

Just as it felt like I was about to faint, he let go. I coughed and gagged, doing my best to compose myself despite the circumstances.

“That was your punishment” he made a grab for my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “Next time I won’t be so nice.”

He paused, looking deeply into my eyes, as I struggled for air, a breathless chuckle escaping from his lips “You look so fucking beautiful right now” the smile on his face looking so genuine. Then he pulled me into a deep kiss, his tongue invading my mouth. After what feels like several minutes, he finally separates from me.

“Get up, let’s go.”

He stands straight, and begins fixing his clothes, tucking in his shirt and zipping up his pants.

I find a tissue box on his desk and reach for, before I could pull out a sheet, his hand slaps my own away.

“No, I want you to stay like that for the rest of the day”

I try to protest, but then there’s a knock on the door. I’m unable to gather my thoughts before Bucky walks in, he stops looking between the two of us before smirking and greeting Steve.

"Hey, Kiwi, long time no see." He strolls over to the couch near the entrance and sits down. "Heard you had a great time in the Maldives, too bad I couldn’t make it." He grins, throwing me a wink as he settles in.

Lemon comes in behind him, and I’m just about ready to start crying again, I expected a look of judgment from her, but she seemed more apologetic, and a bit off kilter. Her clothes ragged, and though still shiny, her hair wasn’t as neat as I saw it earlier that day. Steve sits on the chair next to mine. Lemon and Bucky on the couch off to the side.

They start talking business, as I do my best to shrink into myself trying not to burst into tears from embarrassment.

I peeked up at the trio once more and as Steve and Bucky were speaking Lemon was looking right at me. No judgment, and for once, oddly enough, I felt understood.

That couldn’t be a good thing.

After Steve's meeting with Bucky, he gave me a subtle gesture to follow him. My legs felt heavy, but I couldn’t resist. I glanced at Lemon, who looked shaken, her eyes wide with the same fear I felt inside. That’s when it hit me: both of us were trapped. Steve had me, and Bucky had her. We were just pieces in their game.

I followed Steve down the hall, the sound of my footsteps echoing off the polished floors, my mind flashing back to the last time I was in his bedroom, after the Maldives trip. The memories of that night started creeping in, tightening my chest. I swallowed the fear as Steve led me to the bedroom.

Without saying a word, he started undressing, peeling off his shirt, then unbuckling his pants. Every movement made the panic in my chest rise, and my body stiffened. I was bracing for... something. Something I wasn’t ready for.

But then, he stopped. His pants halfway down, he looked at me with a strange expression, irritation lacing his voice. "What are you doing? You know where the bathroom is. Go and get cleaned up."

His command stunned me. I hadn’t expected the reprieve, but I took it. I turned and made my way to the bathroom, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease slightly. When I entered, I noticed a silk nighty hanging from the shower curtain rod. It was dark red with black lace trim. My fingers instinctively reached out to touch it, the fabric smooth and delicate under my fingertips. Next to the sink was a packaged toothbrush and new toothpaste…the exact brand I used at home.

I stared at it for a moment, my mind swirling with questions. How did he know? How long had he been preparing for this?

I shook myself out of my daze and focused on getting clean. The warm water from the shower helped ease some of the tension, but my thoughts were everywhere, wondering what would happen next.

As I scrubbed myself clean I heard the bathroom door open I scrubbed myself clean, brushed my teeth, and finally slipped into the nighty. The material clung to my skin, unfamiliar and intimate. I still had my underwear from earlier, but I couldn’t help but feel exposed, and a little gross.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, the room was dark. Steve was already in bed, his back turned, but his presence filled the space. I hesitated in the doorway, unsure what to do next. The weight of the night felt suffocating.

Apparently, I stood there too long because his voice cut through the darkness, annoyed and sharp. "Turn off the bathroom light and come to bed."

I flicked the switch, plunging the room into complete darkness, and carefully made my way to the bed. Sliding onto the mattress, I tried to stay on my side, giving him space. But before I could settle in, Steve shifted. He moved closer, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me toward him.

I was his little spoon.

His chest pressed against my back, his warmth radiating through the thin fabric of the nighty. His breath was slow and steady against my neck, but my own breathing became shallow, panic clawing at my insides. I could feel the weight of his arm holding me in place, his grip firm but not aggressive.

Still, it felt like a cage.

I tried to calm myself, counting my breaths, telling myself that this was just sleep. But every inch he moved, every time his body shifted closer, I felt the walls closing in. Panic started to set in again, and I didn’t know how to stop it.

As Steve closed the space between us, his body pressed firmly against mine, something felt off, too much skin, too much warmth. A sudden realization hit me like ice water down my spine.

"You’re not wearing any underwear," I said quietly, my voice betraying the unease building in my chest.

I felt his hand travel down to my pelvis, fingers brushing against the fabric of my underwear. There was a pause, and in a low, disappointed tone, he muttered, "And you are."

The words sent a chill through me, sharper than the night air. His disappointment felt like a judgment, hanging between us in the dark. My mind raced, but my body remained frozen, trapped in the tension of the moment.

“Take it off” he demands

At first, my body tensed, ready to fight back, a surge of defiance pushing through me. But a quick glance at my surroundings. the darkness of the room, the heaviness of Steve’s presence, and the knowledge of how trapped I really was.

So, I relented.

I moved to slip off my underwear, trying to keep my breaths steady, hoping the tremor in my hands wasn’t too obvious. Steve shifted slightly, pulling away just enough to give me space to do what he wanted, his silence suffocating as I removed the last piece of fabric that gave me any kind of security.

When I was done, he wasted no time. His arm wrapped around me once more, tighter than before, pulling me in like I was something he owned. His hand settled back on my pelvis, the warmth of his skin against mine, and I felt his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, "That’s better."

The words crawled under my skin, leaving me cold despite the heat of his body pressed against mine. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to lie still, my mind racing even though my body was now as motionless as his grip allowed.

He started moving, his hands roaming over my body, rubbing, groping, pulling at my skin like I was clay in his hands. He couldn’t seem to stay still, his movements growing more aggressive with each passing second. His fingers kneaded my hips, his palms pinched the soft flesh of my thighs, and his body ground into mine, the weight of him pressing me deeper into the mattress.

I could feel his breath quicken, hear the faint growl rumbling in his chest as he kissed down my ear to my neck, his lips hot and greedy against my skin. Every kiss, every touch, sent a wave of nausea rolling through me, but I was too overwhelmed to push him off.

The scent of him, clean, sharp, and suffocating was all I could breathe in, clouding my senses, making it hard to think straight. My body felt heavy, pinned beneath him as his weight shifted, trapping me further against the bed.

His growling became louder, more animalistic, as his lips moved lower, his hands grasping me tighter. I closed my eyes, willing myself to detach, to float above the moment even as his presence consumed every inch of me.

With a careful thrust he pushed his cock between the crease of my thighs, pushing against my pussy.

A sigh released from his chest as he stills. The space naturally damp due to my just getting out of the shower, alongside my plumper physique.

A few moments pass before he starts moving again, causing friction against my lower lips, occasionally rubbing up against my clit. As his movements become more frantic, he grabs of my breasts, and begins pinching and pulling at my nipples.

My own excitement begins to flourish as his movements speed up, and before I know it he stills as his warm liquid spills between my legs.

He takes some time to gather himself, and when I think he’s done, a hand is pulled off one of my breasts, traveling down to my pubis, and pressing his fingers against my clit. Carefully, he begins rolling my button between his fingers, whispering in my ear. “You feel so good” I feel him shift, pulling back slightly before I realize what’s happening. He pushes inside me, and a sharp squeal escapes my lips. Steve growls, his grip tightening around me, holding me firmly in place with no room for escape. Every thrust is deliberate, his body pressing harder into mine as his fingers find their way to my most sensitive spot.

The sensations hit me all at once, my body betraying me as the overwhelming pressure builds. I can’t hold back, and before I know it, I’m trembling, the wave of pleasure crashing over me as I reach my climax.

I rarely experience this feeling, so I keep still, trying to pull myself back from the edge of euphoria. My body was betraying me, and I could hear the wet, unmistakable sound of his movements filling the room. Steve suddenly stops, letting out a breath before chuckling softly.

He hugs me tightly, his body pressing firmly against mine as if nothing had just happened.

"Goodnight," he says, his voice low and satisfied, as though everything was perfectly normal.

I lay there, frozen, the weight of him pinning me in place, unsure if I’d ever truly wake from this.

I close my eyes, trying to make sense of everything, but my thoughts tangle like a knot I can't untie. The weight of the situation pressed down on me, suffocating, yet exhaustion finally won. As the darkness pulled me under, I could only hope that when I woke up, this would all turn out to be a nightmare, one that I was desperate to escape from, waiting for it to end. 

[poindexters-labratory]

Uhhhm, vent, I guess? I'm just trying to put my feelings into words because it bridges that gap between my thoughts and verbalizing.

Um, there's a bit of a breakdown, and I start talking to myself. Also, talking about emotional trauma. I just kinda wanted to get out somewhere. Sorry to use a public platform, but I don't really have a safe person to rely on.

I'm a very slow thinker. I always have been. I'm not witty or able to absorb information very quickly. I can pretend like I do, and it seems like I do, but my mannerisms and patterns of speech are a result of me desperately trying to keep up. Trying to keep my head above water.

My processing speed has always made me vulnerable. I can't keep up fast enough in open conversation when it comes to groups of people. On top of that, I have mild deafness in an ear on top of autism and ADHD, which makes audio processing extremely difficult. Over time, I've learned to become agreeable, easy to manage, and quiet.

But that life gets lonely. Listening in on conversations you'd like to be a part of, being the last one included, the last one invited, the last one considered, the first one abandoned. I wouldn't say that the experience has made me bitter or cold, but I do have some level of expected disappointment. And I get stressed when there's no attention put on me.

I've always been the kid who has been overlooked in class or at home. My family hardly knows what I want for my birthday, I don't have close friends, even when I like to say that everyone I talk with is my friend, I don't have a best friend. Everyone deserves to have a best friend, right?

It sucks to feel like I should apologize for being sensitive, for being quiet, for being naive, but I am. I feel like I'm no fun as a person. I'm literal, and we're living in an age where all our insecurities are hidden behind a layer of sarcasm and jokes that I just can't seem to wrap my head around. I'm easily scared by the jokes people say.

Not to mention traumatized from a life in an emotionally unstable environment. Terrified that if I made the tiniest mistake, the people around me would blow up in my face.

I weep for the child who learned how to open his school binder silently in class or hide in his room to avoid the potential of screaming downstairs.

The child who hid his entire personality for years to avoid conflict.

The child whose lost friend after friend, in every single location he's been to and left.

And I'm enraged. I had no other choice. And I'm scared. All my life, I've taught myself that if I just shut up, then no one will ever hurt me. If I just shut up, then I'll be safe from everyone.

"I'm too stupid for conversation anyway, I'm too slow to be a part of a group, to have a seat at the table, and I will finally be safe because the only things anyone has ever been interested in are shoving things that in the way and stepping on things that are too small."

That is a horrible thing for a child to convince himself of.

All of this is probably why I have NPD (narcissistic personality disorder). I convince myself on especially bad days that I'm obviously just better even though I consciously know it not to be true, and everyone is jealous, and that's why no one is talking to you. I have this deep desire to be admired in impossible ways, and I struggle immensely when I have absolutely no attention.

I need people to love me. I shouldn't give a reason because if I was loved and given attention properly, then we would be here.

"Am I really that awful? I can't possibly be. I'm positively normal and well-mannered and polite. I'm almost too nice. Sickeningly sweet. If people see how good I can be, then there's no reason why they wouldn't want to be my friend, right?

But I don't want to be too overbearing. I don't want to be too chatty. People hate people who talk too much. Especially when they talk about the same thing for hours. Especially when they can't take the joke. Don't be so serious, don't be so concerned, just fade into the background, and be as unremarkable as possible.

But I'd like to be noticed. I want that attention. I want the attention for saying something, doing something. Make the conversation about me, talk to me. Please talk to me, don't you see me? Don't you know how cool and remarkable I am, I can do all these amazing things, and I know all this information. Won't you like me?"

I also expect people to read my mind because that's what I do for them. I wait and pray that someone will notice the person sitting in the corner by himself. It hasn't quite worked yet.

So, now I imagine myself sitting in a field surrounded by people rushing around me. And I'm waiting. I've been sitting in this field for a while, envious of the people who walk by with someone in tow. I would like to be someone's someone.

It would be a lie if I said I didn't think about it often. I'm not interested in romance, I just want someone to be silly with, who I'm safe with, who likes to fool around sometimes, who's just there with me. Hell, it doesn't have to be one person. I just love people. An extrovert who's all alone is so depressingly ironic.

I don't have the answers or the steps to find the answer, but I know that it will unfortunately take time. Life will continue, and I will continue it by myself until I fortunately don't have to anymore. Until I won't be alone anymore. I feel like it will take as much time as it needs to.

[causenessus]

[ 💌 ] INCOMING MAIL !

A LETTER FROM REE — TO — NESS HAS ARRIVED BY CARRIER PIGEON ♡ °⋆ 🕊️🕊️🕊️📮

ANYONE WHO ISNT NESS DNI DNR DO NOT LOOK. SCROLL AWAY I’M ABOUT TO GO TO SAPTOWN AND I AM EMBARRASSED THESE ARE MY DEMONS DO NOT PERCEIVE ME OR THIS ASK EVER. THIS IS FOR ONE PERSON ONLY. AND IT’S SUPER LONG ! YOU DONT WANT TO SEE THIS OR READ IT. LEAVE. THE DOOR IS THAT WAY.

ask/note: the last time I logged on I saw that you weren’t doing so well and attempted to write a suna + noya how they comfort you style fic and failed…MISERABLY. this is probably late and might not be of any use to you but the ghost of letters came over me and it’s spirit is whispering in my ear to write this (it’s my forte: letters, and I’m sure I could do it way better than writing when writers block is hitting more than it’s ever…. hitteth ,,,, <- ignore that)

dear ness,

first of all ! when I say you’re THE sweetest I mean it, so so so genuinely. you exude warmth and kindness and I truly believe without you tumblr would be a dull and soulless platform

second of all ! whenever you say something self deprecating about yourself I feel like knocking someone out. deep desires to harm someone or break something and just violence. crimes of some kind

I KNOW IT MIGHT NOT SET IN FOR YOU BUT IF I NEED TO SAY IT 100x FOR IT TO SEEP INTO YOUR BRAIN PROPERLY I WILL!! I KNOW YOU’RE AN OVERTHINKER!! I’M GOING TO HOLD YOUR HAND WHILE YOU OVERTHINK!!

there is nothing you’ve put out that I’ve ever disliked in the slightest if not loved entirely — when you said wdo inspires a lot of try again, to say I’m honored is a huge understatement and I believe you are out of everyone’s league; you’re an incredible writer and we don’t deserve you (I’m glad we have you though)

besides your writing, I cannot imagine a world nor a universe where I would enjoy tumblr as much as I do without you existing. I hate to mention wdo so much but it’s hard not to seeing that it was the first time we properly interacted sorry 😭 ..by the time I got to working in that fic I didn’t feel like I belonged on here and you made me feel welcomed :) I don’t think I would still be here or have met everyone that I did without you and I can’t ever thank you enough — you are kind and down to earth and so considerate, and I would give you the world if I could <333

third, last but not least, IT IS OKAY TO NOT BE AT YOUR BEST ! if you need a break we’ll be here when you come back !! you were the catalyst that made tumblr my home and if the apocalypse happened and wiped out everyone on the planet I’d be the last one standing — my motivation to survive was to be there for every causenessus post

IT IS NORMAL TO NOT UPLOAD EVERY DAY OR UPDATE FICS !! EVEN PUBLISHED AUTHORS GO MONTHS WITHOUT TOUCHINGN A PIECE OF WORK !! FANFICTION AUTHORS SHOULD BE SPARED!! ESPECIALLY YOU!! you’ve grinded and given us all these great fics, anyone impatient can take that time to go and reread ur other works instead of complain, I’m sure cold kisses and new grounds wouldn’t mind

I hope that no matter what happens outside of this silly little app: ur aware that my dms are open 24/7 and I mean that when I say it. It won’t require an apology or small talk — if you need to vent or a boredom cure I’ll always be here !!! always !!! I’m a no judgement zone and I CARE ABOUT YOU IMMENSELY AND I WANT YOU TO DO WELL ! I WANT YOU TO BE WELL ! I pray this letter feels like a bouquet of flowers on your doorstep with handmade chocolates from and a real sized suna placing it down there to give you the biggest hug of the century because it’s the bare fucking minimum for all the hard work you do (and before you say anything about slacking off, living is hard work — and I think you’ve done a spectacular job <3) ! this ask is the longest I’ve ever sent I think I set a record 🙂‍↕️ at the very least I hope it made you smile :)

with all my love,

ree.

REE THE MOODBOARD???? THE PICTURES???? REE I AM GOING TO SCREENSHOT THIS AND FRAME IT ON MY WALL /GEN I DON'T WORK IN FRAMING FOR NOTHING!! THIS IS SO SO SWEET <3 AND DW OMG :( THANK YOU FOR TRYING TO WRITE COMFORT AND IT'S TOTALLY OKAY IT DIDN'T WORK OUT!! (i am looking at the five discarded fics in my drafts rn)

ree i cannot i'm going to throw up /pos and i've only read the first paragraph!! REE I THINK YOU'RE OUT OF EVERYONE'S LEAGUE <3 you are genuinely so so sweet and creative and just have the most beautiful mind ever the way that you put so much effort and creativity and imagination into every single thing you do like look at this letter!! look at how you formatted it and matched color palettes and i just cannot tell you how thankful i am for you thank you so much ree <3

and omg no don't worry about mentioning wdo too much at all!! REE IT WAS SO GOOD I COULD NEVER NOT BE HAPPY TO SEE A REFERENCE OR READ SOMETHING ABOUT WDO!! and i'm so so glad that i could help you feel more welcome BC YOU'RE LITTERALLY OUT OF ALL OF OUR LEAGUES!!! IT'S LIKE IF I?? IDK LIKE OPENED THE DOOR AND GREETED UMMMMMMM TOM HOLLAND AT THE DOOR?? AND TREATED HIM LIKE A STRANGER AND THEN HE WALKED INTO THE PARTY AND BUSTED IT DOWN AND EVERYONE LIKE KNEW HIM AND CHEERED HIM ON YK??? like you are so amazing!!! you didn't need an introduction you just needed to come into the haikyuu fandom and bless us all with your writing yk !! (i'm so sorry i cannot find the words in my head to describe my vision for what i'm trying to tell you and i have no idea why tom holland was the first person that came to mind but i hope you get what i mean!!!)

and omg please ree thank you so much for reminding me of how okay it is to take breaks and not post everyday <33 you are so so sweet and i hope that you've been doing well after taking your breaks and everything!! i am so sorry it took me so long to get to this BUT I AM SO HONORED TO HAVE RECEIVED THIS LETTER AND I CANNOT BELIEVE I AM JUST NOW SEEING YOU MOVED BLOGS?? BUT I THINK I FOUND IT AND WILL BE FOLLOWING IT ASAP AS SOON AS I FINISH SAP YAPPING IN THIS ASK!!!

ree i cannot tell you how thankful i am for all of our interactions and the memories we've made and for helping me with the stupid "a (technically an)" or "my" struggle during the makings of love notes and for literally just always being there for me!! please know my dms and everything are always always open to you too and i love you so much!! i hope you see this despite already moving blogs 😭 and i'm so sorry i'm just now finding out about it!!!! but you are the literally the best ree i am so thankful for you <33

[randomgentlefolk]

What happened Mono? 👀

Here's a small sketch of Jellie that I meant to lineart and post for pride month, but never get the energy or will to

It's all vent down there and like why I haven't been posting much. Um, I don't know what to put here as a warning so I'll try my best. Read at your own risk because it might contains mental health topics (the bad one ejjsisj).

(READ ⬇️⬇️⬇️)

Maybe some things here may be concerning, but please do not report this post. I really don't want anyone else like my family members to know about my problems. I don't know what would happen.

To start of, I would like to apologize for not posting frequently or soon, especially my cpc review and drawing posts.

I honestly don't remember why I started posting cpc review posts. I think at that time, younger me did it out of fun and all. I understand where they are coming from haha. Unfortunately, as time goes on, I can't keep up with posting in the right time and schedule. And the more I do this, the more it feels like a chore. I appreciate people who likes my review posts, I really do! But I can't help but become more and more tired everyday. It has very little to do with some review posts of course, haha! It's just, I guess something's wrong with me. Don't worry tho, I can try to figure it out. I don't want to burden anyone, so please do not worry about me. Maybe I seem off sometimes, or I joke about concerning things, or I don't post anything in my tumblr or discord (replying in this case), but it's fine, really. No one did anything wrong, there's just something wrong with me (as I said before).

Maybe I'm just lazy lmao, that's probably the case. I'm too lazy to do anything nowadays, even something simple. Idk why, so I think that's something I should figure out. Anyway long story short, I'm starting to lose interest on things I usually adore. I still love cpc though. That's something I'm holding tightly on.

..okay maybe I'm not fine, but I'll be fine. Yeah. I'll figure out what's wrong with me and try to help myself. Don't worry about me. There are lots of other things I wanna say, but I don't want to open up too much. I'm not, uh, used to it.

Conclusion! I'm taking a break from posting cpc reviews right now, just like how lambcat is in hiatus right now ^^ I heard she hurt her arm/hand? I hope she gets better soon :d

Uh, maybe I will take a break? Don't make me promise that. Because there might be a small chance I get small burst of energy and decide to write one after all lmao. I guess this whole post can be the explanation if I don't post anything soon. I'm sorry, I'll try my best.

I don't think I'm saying any of this properly. I'm sorry. I'm really tired.

Mono out, and hopefully I'll be in sometime soon

[fortpeat]

What is a little thing you have always enjoyed? What's a small comfort that always makes you happy?

Hey nonnie ❤️☺️

Oh boy this is such a question 🫣 I don't even know where to begin. This might either end in a simple way or I might go on to write an essay but first of all I wanted to apologize coz I wasn't in a good place to reply to you but I am kind of okay now so let me start.

It doesn't take much to make me happy. The rain makes me happy. A baby looking at me makes me happy. Someone suddenly appreciating my work over here on Tumblr out of the blue makes me happy. Seeing my glow in the dark stars at night before going to sleep makes me happy. My jasmine scented candle makes me happy. Music helps me. Cleaning my room makes me happy. Fortpeat interactions make me happy. Talking to my friends makes me happy. All these little things make me happy truly.

But there are days where none of this helps me. Where I feel so lost in perpetual darkness that it feels endless. Where none of the above things that are meant to make me happy helps in the way it should. Sometimes I try to fight my way out of it but other times I just want to sit in that darkness and cry my heart out. Those are the hardest days you know. Where nothing feels right or everything feels hopeless. Like have you ever wondered if you have been cursed or something coz everyone around you seems to get their life on track and able to follow their dreams while you are stuck in this same place where you can't even envision your own future. And it's not for your lack of trying but more like no matter how much you try nothing seems to work the way you want to, and you just want to give up coz you are so tired of trying and trying and you are at your limits. Some days I barely am holding on to that thread of hope to get through that day coz I tell myself there are people who are suffering more than me out there. At least you have a roof over your head and food on your table. And this helps you know. It helps to put things in perspective and it feels like I could breathe a little bit. But sometimes even that doesn't help. So I just wallow in my miserableness and get through the day hoping tomorrow will be better. Sometimes it takes days to get through that kind of darkness or even weeks but I am confident that I will get through it like I have done so many times in the past.

Geez I am sorry for going on a ramble there. I don't know if you expected this when you asked that question but thank you for asking. It was nice to vent it out 🫣. Hopefully I didn't scare you off 🫣🫣

[cantstayawaycani]

I don't want to jump to conclusions and I'm still keeping an open mind to new info that might come out as well as trying to remain neutral about both parties. However I have the impression that people are associating being a selfish lover and liking kinky sex with different women with SA. Especially with Fernanda's statement, it sounds like she is most likely complaining about Tenoch being a selfish lover rather than actually getting abused and she might have deleted the tweets because pages online were misinterpreting her words and advertising the articles as "Fernanda accuses Tenoch of sexual assault" but that's not what she meant? It's just an idea. I hope whoever is innocent gets justice and whoever is guilty pays for it.

Hey anon. I got this around 3:45 in the morning. I have insomnia right now, and I was awake and saw it but was way too tired to answer.

I didn't sleep much, but I did think about what I read here in your ask. And I went into a bit more deep reflective thought, internally focused, trying to understand something.

Well, I got up, made myself a coffee and did some work. Now I'm ready to answer this ask. You didn't ask for what I'm about to say, you just came here to lay your thoughts out so you can make sense of them.

But here is my answer. The bald face truth is that, we don't want him to be guilty. I am saying "we" here. Because I understand, that yes, I am a fair person. And yes, I am not quick to judgement and condemnation. But I ask myself: "why am I doing all this research for these asks?" "Why do I have this wait and see attitude?"

Why are you speculating on motivation and trying to interpret meaning in these accusations other than what they already imply? Because we don't want him to be guilty.

I know about myself that I am hardwired to believe victims who speak out about their sexual assault/abuse/harrassment.

I understand about myself that I do not want Tenoch to be guilty of this.

That is as raw a truth as I can pull from myself. And that is a hard truth to look at and admit.

There are many reasons for this. None of them superficial or grotesque, the way criticizers would accuse. But I don't need to go into detail about any of that. It wouldn't be understood anyway.

The point is, our "neutrality' is rooted in bias. Bias towards not wanting to believe Tenoch is guilty.

I think we're doing ourselves a disservice by trying to figure these allegations out. I, personally, am going to stop. We have no control over how this plays out and it's not about us.

We should engage in self care by taking a step back, examining our own thoughts and emotions, and giving ourselves a break from the personal responsibility we feel to rationalize the existence of these allegations.

That's just my advice to you. You don't personally need to build a case. It's OK to wait to see how it plays out. But I would advise not to go so far down the rabbit hole of speculation and rationalization, that you lose your ability to be truly objective.

We're not wrong, we're only human. But I think we should always be trying to do better for ourselves.

I absolutely adore the small community of fans I found here. I hope what I've said above makes sense? I apologize if it contorted the purpose of sending me the ask. My inbox is open if you still need to vent, but I don't think I will do the speculation on these allegations anymore, if that's OK. I've said about as much as I possibly can about them.

And I'm not going to wait around for more news anymore. I'm going to move on from it. Things will happen when they happen.

Sorry for the wait and the long reply! I hope you are gentle with yourself and take some time away from thinking about this. It's out of your hands hon.

[izzy-mizzie-boo]

Just a small vent.

My mother have been dating a guy that it's extremely insecure and went through many toxic relationships.

I told her that he should FIRSTLY take care of himself, his emotions, know more about himself and take care of his mental health, 'cuz liking it or not, he even went through a relationship where the lady didn't even ALLOW him to work or LEAVE the house in certain hours.

But she doesn't listen... Lately he've been calling my mother practically daily, and everytime she pick up the phone and answers it practically turns a small lever in his mind that: "She will ALWAYS pick up the phone if I call her no matter what she's doing."

And that's a terrible problem, including when it's related to someone so insecure and that went through so many terrible and toxic relationships that he didn't have love and tenderness from the partner.

Worst of all: They don't even know each other that well and neither have 1 year of knowing each other... This worries me a lot. I care about my mother, I want the BEST for her... But she doesn't take what I say serious bc "I NEVER HAD A RELATIONSHIP BEFORE SO I DON'T KNOW HOW IT WORKS".

I don't need to be in a relationship to SEE the red flags... Facts that have been bothering me a lot:

When me and my mother went to the market to buy just a few things(nothing that would take too long), something that she wouldn't need to take her phone with her, so she left her phone home and we went. He sent many messages and called incessantly and we didn't even stay 1 hour out of home... When she saw the messages, she got slightly mad, but told him what we were doing while she didn't answer. So he quickly "apologized" and went to a soft way, so I warned her to not fall for that and that was a way of manipulation. She still doesn't listen.

When we went to my grandma's house to celebrate her birthday(it was recently, February 1st), I stood in her house along with my cousin bc we didn't want to stay between a few drunk people, smoke and loud music. The next day, when I went to wake her up(AFTER A HUGE COMSUME OF ALCOHOL) with a cup of coffee the way she likes, but the moment her phone started ringing, she asked me to check it, and when I did, guess what? It was him... I just handed her phone and listened a bit, HEARING HIM SAY THAT SHE DID NOT ANSWER HIS "GOOD MORNING" MESSAGE... She literally invited him to go there, but he couldn't bc of work... AND HE DEMANDS HER TO ANSWER HIM. My mother likes to drink and she has all the right to drink as much as she wants and she doesn't have to stay GLUED to her phone answering his shit...

My mother and him have been meeting in a Motel(outside of my country in a few places, "Motel" is just a small hotel for travelers, but here is literally a place for you to go and fuck.) bc she doesn't want him to step in the house bc of me. But she have been meeting him at the bar, motel and more places to spend time with him. Reminder: I naturally wake up around 5AM and she wakes up at 6:40 AM, leaving to work around 7:50 AM, returning home around 7:38 PM. We have a small lunch together at 8PM and 8:30 PM I go to sleep.

I honestly feel extremely left aside because I already didn't have much time with my mother and NOW I don't even have one second with her anymore... But I also yell at myself: "You gotta shut your mouth because you shouldn't bother her life."

(Edit: Right now it's 11:22PM and she's out home, but if I fall asleep I won't be able to let her in cause the house is locked.)

I'm so sorry for that vent.

[reminiscentrainclouds]

Fictionkin Journal Day Fifteen (This one's kind of long and I vent about off-topic stuff a lot so feel free to skip. Uhh my apologies.)

Some days I feel so alone. It feels like the opportunity to live freely and without fear was stolen from me; I see it in my reoccurring issues, the limitations I place on myself subconsciously that I can't seem to escape. I see it over and over and over again in whatever weird piece-y memories I do have, and written down in journals and scraps of paper and sticky notes and old posts. Recorded in my voice recorder app at one point too. It's so frustrating. I feel boxed in. The world is so big but my world is so small, and I can't see a path for me where that changes because everything that I am and understand about anything is built up on it so carefully that dismantling that, although that's the only potential way of making any meaningful progress, would feel like dying, or something. Not to be dramatic. It would be like completely destroying the world and having to rebuild what I know about it, piece by piece, to me. And I don't think that will ever be worth it to me, because as I am, I am relatively safe and well-off. I can be okay until I'm not. And when I'm not I can just wait till I am again. But it's so hard sometimes, and I feel like nothing.

Sorry for the. Dense paragraph of emotion dumping. It's been a rough day. I've just been feeling the full extent of being put at an unfair disadvantage mentally.

It's a trauma thing etc. etc. That's the unfair part. Gaughh

I just wish that, at the very least, the only ONLY thing I really want, is to not be stuck with the inherent feeling that the world is not for me. The inherent feeling that if I were to do something just a little "out of line" with the way I "should be", everything would fall apart.

But. Ehh the venting was not entirely intended because the end-all-be-all is that it's a non-issue but there it is I guess.

When I was thinking about it earlier, the point I was trying to get to was that Fictionkin as a concept is just as much a comfort to me as it is a belief. I think they go hand-in-hand. I lean into it a lot because it makes me feel less alone, and it helps me understand the world better. I can kind of find a lot of meaning in it rather than feeling like nothing all the time.

I feel like I can't be as much of a "person" here than I could in other lifetimes(?) I guess. Feelings-wise, that is. I know there are plenty of things that are identifiably "me" from the outside, but on the inside I just feel kind of lost inside it all, like it's all just a bunch of information. But I'm hoping that if I hold onto things that feel like me and I keep trying, then maybe that can be good enough.

Buuuut even that can be tricky. The brainfog and the dissociation (I think). "Holding onto things" in general is.. hard. That's a lot of what sparked this really. I can barely even keep up my optimism, especially when I haven't slept enough (which is luckily becoming less of a problem but one less-than-ideal night can wreck a whole lot, you'd be surprised), and I can just kind of fall into a general "feeling of dread" spiral all day. Haven't found anything that helps consistently with that one so far, so for now it's just a prevention issue. I amn doinge mye best.

I really needed to say a lot of that. Well sorry for subjecting you to all that/thank you for listening if you did.

[melodythemaybegorl]

✨ Fuck Off You Stupidass Piece of Shit ✨

Warning: extremely long vent post ahead with All of the swearing

Context: i went on a camping trip a month agoish, it was great, would do again. ~However~ when i went on the annual nature hike walk Thing. i happened to ya know, over work my very poor body. Especially my legs, seeing as how my right (& left) knee likes to just Ya Know, be in various amounts of pain randomly when it decides I've 'overworked' it again.

Unfortunately for my mental health my brain Needs to daydream in order to Process Shit™️ subconsciously. Now, this wouldn't be such a big deal if i could do that while reading, playing a video game or some other activity. Sadly only stuff i can do on auto pilot counts for Day Dreaming Time which for me personally includes the following: walking/pacing, swinging on a swing set/similar playground equipment on and eating. (sometimes) Theoretically i could do so while sitting still but uhm, i kinda need something more engaging then That

Which again leaves us to my Knee Problem, seeing as my preferred method out of all of these is swinging/waling around without feeling like a tiger in a Fuckin cage. (sorry but im feeling extremely frustrated by this) Seeing as it's been a month tho my leg is (mostly) fine. Which means I'm able to walk to the nearby park & swing away until my body physically tells me to get the fuck off.

Again not that bad, UNFORTUNATELY seeing as I'm fairly young with zero self defense training aside from the instinct to kick a bitch like a donkey I'm not allowed to walk around after dark, (extremely reasonable i agree completely) but i happened to reach my brain's internal storage of shit until it feels like it needs to take a step back & process... which it can't do until i walk. which I can't do because it is Night Time and even Then my knee is fuckin complaining. This means I'm very very frustrated & more than a little mad. Seeing as how my brain is sending "Go Touch Grass" while body is going "madam we woke up at 6 pm after sleeping at 9 sthm am and it's 4 am go the Fuck to sleep, also I'm sick of you're shit."

WHICH BTW I BEEN HAVING THE WORST TIME DOING SO CAUSE ONE OF MY BIG BOI BLANKETS GOT POOP ON IT & THE OTHER GOT PISSED ON. So far the best way I've found to Go the F To Sleep has been cuddling with mom because cuddling with mom is Great and allows my pickyass brain to stfu about not being able to nest properly. also my bed is uncomfy as shit without Proper Nesting Materials which means I haven't really been able to recharge alone properly either!!!

I know all very small problems but it's kinda all piled up together in a giant ball of Complete & Utter Bullshit.

Further Warning:

self pity & hate train is here y'all, if ya dont wanna read that please & kindly heck off. No disrespect intended but this is a random post on the Internet under a read more, you put in some tiny amount of effort to get this far. Also it should be noted that the swearing rockets up a few notches, again you don't have to read further. (Apologies if this is a bit over the line for bitchiness, have a lovely day regardless)

and!! i should be able to fix the blanket problem except my dumbass forgot how to do laundry AGAIN cause i haven't had the proper motivation to do Fuckin Anything for years now, plus my stupidass self pity train hasn't been properly derailed enough for me to figure out how to trick myself into Actually Doing Stuff! I've just been complaining about it like a useless little Bitch! Which i am! i barely fuckin do anything cause i just sit there in a guilty spiral of guiltyness doin fuckall. Just, what the fuck man.

[its-venting-time]

*BIG VENT* /many tws/

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

I can't fucking stand him tonight. I can't fucking do it what a complete fucking asshole of a human. "I didn't wanna have a whole discussion about it" ok???? Then why'd you bring it up ??

Why would you even bother saying anything if you didn't want to talk about and then act like a jerk when I told you I was glad you got to go out and celebrate?????

The other night you were literally talking about how you don't have an emotional support system, made me feel like shit about that and like everything I've done for you in the last didn't even fucking matter and now WHEN IM ACTIVELY TRYING TO SUPPORT YOU EMOTIONALLY you're just going to shut me the fuck down???? WHAT DO YOU WANT!!! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT??!!!! I can not comprehend what fucking psychological Games you're playing and it's REALLY REALLY starting to get under my fucking skin.

And you know what else is bothering me, the fact that I'm here all the time taking care of our house, THAT YOU LITERALLY DONT DO ANYTHING IN BECAUSE "YOU'RE TO TIRED", and I ask for the most SIMPLE shit. Like hey don't forget to bring water home, or hey can have a case of beer TO ONLY GET YELLED AT IN RETURN WHEN IM FUCKING PAYING FOR IT BECAUSE YOU DONT KNOW HOW TO MANAGE YOUR OWN MONEY THROW A HISSY FIT ABOUT THE GAS, TAKE MY MONEY AND NOT EVEN COME BACK WITH THE TWO LITTLE THINGS I ASKED????? You can go out for four hours to a fucking bar and have a good time.bit god forbid you do a simple fucking task. Oooooooo it's all just too much for the big bad CHEF isn't it. EVERYONE HAS JOBS, EVERYONE HAS TO WORK AND EVERYONE HAS TO TAKE CARE OF THEIR OWN SHIT. YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL THAT'S JUST LIFE. That's just fucking life and you act like a world class CUNT anytime I need a small favor when I do FUCKING EVERYTHING ELSE. Only thing I can't do is drive and you definitely make.sure.to.make me feel like shit about that too. I'm so sorry I have TRAUMA FROM MY OWN MOTHER TRYING TO FUCKING KILL ME IN A CAR And that I'm just not ready to get behind the wheel again. I'm SOOOOO sorry that's so hard for you. My apologies I forgot that everyone's world should revolve around what Casey wants, what Casey needs. God damn it and you wouldn't even have half the shit you do right now if it weren't for me. Even your job happened because of me because you were to fucking LAZY TO FILL OUT YOUR OWN JOB APPLICATIONS.

FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING SELFISH HELLISH BRAT. YOU SPOILED OLD ALL C H I L D. Completely unbelievable. You're unbelievable and any time someone tries to tell you that YOU hurt them you turn it around and PLAY VICTIM. LIKE MEEEEEEE YOU BEAT THE FUCK OUT OF ME AND THEN MADE IT OUT TO BE MY FUCKING FAULT THAT IT EVEN HAPPENED. You're not worth all this. You're not worth all of this anger and sadness. You're really not. If I was not trapped and burdened by my BPD and other circumstances I would have left you a long fucking time ago. I should have let you off yourself when you made a spectacle of yourself in my fucking bathroom about it. Dumb ass.