#How to Beat Alcohol Addiction Naturally

[patnaneuro]

https://patnaneuroandchildpsychiatry.in/tips-to-beat-alcohol-addiction-deaddiction-centre-in-patna/

[grapejuicestyless]

Orange Juice

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: High school sweethearts, the picture perfect pair whose story crumbled as quickly as it started. All because of a reckless boy and his addictive nature and an emotional girl and her growing tiredness.(warning: Mentions of addiction(alcohol).)

“I need you!” He pleads, words broken and grass stuck to his knees as he stands from his spot on the ground where he lay face down, passed out in the front yard of the chateau once again.

He held her hands in his, pulling at her fingers until her knuckles seemed to stretch at his sheer force and determination to keep her put in place, to keep her with him.

“If that was true you would have stopped!” Her voice was shaky, tears burning into her cheeks and her throat constricting with each choked up breath. Still, she couldn’t look at him in the eyes, the same deep blue eyes that held her youth and captured her heart with nothing more than the twinkle of innocence and play.

She knew if she were to look back she would try to keep fighting it, and as much as she longed to always be there to help, it was obvious her help was nothing more than something that delayed his progress. JJ was his father’s son, whether they admitted it or not. No, he never laid a hand on Y/n’s skin, but when he drank his words shot to kill. He carried the same fire in his soul and a pent up rage that seethed through the cracks in his teeth each time he held a solo cup in his palms.

No amount of comfort or persuasion would stop the boy from sending himself six feet in the ground. He had drank them both dry and Y/n hated to admit that she had lost the fight, she had to throw in the towel. He wouldn’t get better until she was gone, and she knew it, even if he refused to admit that he needed to let the harsh slap of reality to beat him senseless for him to find his feet.

“You know it’s not that simple, baby! Please, tell me you know it, I’m trying, I really am. Please.” He cries, lips trembling all ugly as his nose runs and his cheeks become blotchy. He’s a mess, looks it and smells it too.

His boyish smell of sweet cedar and the sandy beaches covered with vanilla are masked with the stench of whatever he pours into his cup and day old cigarette smoke. His blonde hair isn’t messy in the cute way that he wore it when her hands would ruffle through each lock, but because he hasn’t made it to his bed in days, choosing to pass out somewhere from the front lawn to the living room if he ever makes it that far.

“Don’t bullshit me, Jay. You and me both know it, I’ve tried, and I’ve tried and we’ve wasted all that potential to get better and we’ve fought this before. We win the fight, but what about the war? What about me, the bed I sleep in and the pillow that doesn’t even smell like my fiancé anymore because he prefers to be face down passed out in our lawn!” Y/n rips her hand away from JJ’s like it’s poisonous, a bite that stings and slowly works its way into her blood.

Y/n’s not angry at him, her lover, her sweetheart fiancé. No, how could she ever be when even at his worst she can only ever see the good hidden deep inside of his abusive behaviors and dependence on all the wrong things.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come home for so long, so long JJ and you never come back anymore. You’re too far gone to even remember that theres a warm bed waiting for you.” She cries, eyes closing and head falling into the boy’s shoulder as she sobs out sentences aimlessly.

The worst part is that it’s his own fault. His whole life he tried so hard to finally break free of his family’s name, the bitter memories of his abusive father and absent mother leaving him with a motivation to be better than they ever could have been. Yet, here he is half drunk with the same smell stuck on his breath and some half-assed apology ready to spew out at his lover.

“I’ll get better, for you, I will. I’d do anything for you.” She pulls away, looking at him with big doe eyes and a scrunched up nose. He thinks he finally has a chance to change for a second, to fix all his wrongdoings until she shakes her head, looking down at her feet and stepping away from him.

“No, no. Jay, no.” Wiping her cheeks, Y/n seems to finally let go of the innocence that once masked all of his imperfections.

“Your heart has changed, your soul has changed and you aren’t the man I love anymore.” Watching how she fiddles with the ring on her finger breaks his heart, no it absolutely crushes it. Reality is a sour taste to be swallowed down and JJ just can’t seem to get it down now that it’s all right in front of him.

“And I’ll always love you, and if you ever need me I’ll still be here-“

“No, Y/n/n, no.” He tries to follow her, the ring in his palm burning a circle on his skin. A symbol of their eternal love that seemed to redefine what ‘forever’ really meant.

“But I can’t be the one you rely on anymore, it’s not healthy for you.” She tries to reason with him, but he doesn’t want to hear it, he only wants her to hold him again.

“I love you!” JJ tries to make her see it, how his blood only keeps pumping even when he should be dead by now because in his heart he knows he’ll feel her touch against his forehead in the hot summer mornings and her hips against his in the late afternoons that seemed to always slip away far too quickly.

“You’re not your father, Jay.” She reminds him, making JJ stop in his tracks where he debates whether or not to cry or laugh in relief or anger.

“So thats it?” He decides to be angry even if he really isn’t, even if it’s his own fault for driving the girl away. Even if they both recognize that she needs to go away for some time.

“You’re just going to go ahead and carry on? Leave me here alone like I don’t even matter? What, was I pulling you down? Was it just too much?” He spits it like fire at her heart and she tries not to take it too harshly. Y/n knows he gets mean when he’s tipsy, and the empty bottles hidden in the long grass tell her that he’s well beyond that point now.

“I need you to get better.” She begs quietly, looking down as she speed walks down the old dirt roads that lead to a better part of town. She feels naked without the ring adorned on her finger or the weight of her soul hanging over her shoulders.

Y/n swears she can hear his sobs from across town, the broken cries wondering where his lover went in the late afternoon and the even louder ones in the early morning once the fog clears and he comes to terms with his faults.

It’s all in her head, their friends remind her, and they send her photos of him in the mail to tell her how he’s getting better. But the polaroids become further and farther in between, and soon the eyes she swore she never wanted to leave her life became those of a strangers, a stranger who knew everything there was to know about her.

“I haven’t drank in six months, on the dot.” He leans over the kitchen table, indents from his rings and scratches from pen evident in the wood. His hair is just the same as it was when they first met, a blonde mop of waves that sit perfectly around his tanned face. Only now he doesn’t look so tired and he doesn’t smell so sour.

She can only smile at him, letting the crowd fill in around them and filter out through the door as time passes and the moon sets underneath the horizon. She still thinks about how light her finger feels without the handmade ring on her finger, the promise that was within the bent metal weighing more than any diamond any man could ever buy her.

“Can I get you a drink, to celebrate? Theres orange juice in the kitchen, bought it for our friends. It’s yours if you want it, just glad you could visit.” JJ doesn’t know about the piles of photos she keeps of him, the photos that she never had the heart to unpin in her room in the chateau. He’s acutely aware of the fact his friends had been sending the girl updates, he had even asked them to at some points, just so she wouldn’t carry so much worry and guilt as he put on her all those months ago.

“I’ve missed you.” He says it softly, hoping partly that the faint music and the dying chatter from the outside will drown out his confession of love for the girl in front of him, but the sad smile on her face tells him otherwise.

“Feel’s so empty here without you, like I’ve been waiting for you to come home.” He kicks the splintered wood, hands in his pockets and his eyes darting to the orange juice sat warming on the counter like it was placed there just for him. He knew it was, and he knew who did it too.

But Y/n started to cry before JJ could even begin to thank her for all she has done for him, for sacrificing everything just to see him get better.

Shes blubbering something about regretting how she just up and left him like that, how she keeps his memories with her and still wakes up smiling when she thinks of him in her sleep. But more importantly, she cries about how she doesn’t think that she can ever have him again.

Of course, it’s not her fault that she associates his condition with her. Each relapse happened in her company and each stage was only worsened by her staying. She had to leave for him to get better and now to her, it was evident it was for the best.

JJ knows she’s wrong, but how could she? It’s his own fault for what he’s done to her but it’s really not even his fault. Falling dependent on a substance that only ever caused harm was something he started to do for fun, he never intended to become addicted to it, to become mean. They were both just victims in an incredibly cruel situation.

“It’s like you said, Y/n/n, just like you said. My heart has changed, and my soul has changed, and this town has changed, and this world has changed!” He takes her hands in his, showering her his ring and offering a new beginning to their tangled love story.

“But I have not.” It’s so quiet when she says it, JJ almost misses it. She hesitates, flinching away from the ring and refusing to put it back on for the fear that the reoccurring nightmares she had conveniently left out of his condition would come true again.

“The last time you were drunk you were face down, passed out in our lawn.” She looks at him, closing his fingers around the ring and standing from the table.

“Theres orange juice in the kitchen, bought it for you. It’s yours if you want it, I’m just glad you could visit.” She admits softly, slipping past him as calm as she can keep herself, hoping that he can’t hear the way that her heart cracks with each inhale of air.

He whispers something about still loving her, and even though she never says it back, the fact that she’s just admitted to buying the drink specifically for him with the hopes of him showing up gives JJ hope, a hope that he secretly knows will only leave him more devastated in the long run, but one that keeps him going.

He pours himself a glass of the orange juice later that night, the crowd long gone and empty solo cups scattered along the lawn. The ring in his pocket weighs down his cargo shorts pockets and burns through the fabric to his skin, but deep down he knows that he’s changed, he’s been better.

Like she had told him the day it all came crashing down, he is not his father, so he will try and try until he can mend what he broke and the wound is nothing but a scar left behind to show his strength and resilience.

JJ prefers apple juice over orange juice, but as he takes a sip of the tangy liquid, he decides it tastes sweeter than usual, and he really likes orange juice better than any other drink.

[rafesgoldrings]

hi pookie!!! i’m so proud of u for hitting this milestone, could i please get lust for life??? jj maybank and freak by lana del rey xoxo 🤭🤭

Freak J.M

Warnings: smut, mentions of weed and alcohol, one mention of abuse but not detailed

Thank you baby!! I hope you enjoy😚 this is not proofread so ignore any grammatical errors😭 reader and JJ are both of legal age

You still remember how your summer ‘fling’ with JJ started. How one party changed the trajectory of your life, one night was all it took to grow addicted to the blonde haired trouble maker.

Visiting the Outer Banks to visit your family seemed so boring to you at the time. Why would you go there when you lived in California? Surrounded by all sorts of places to go, things to do, beautiful beaches that you could spend forever at, but you had no choice. When you arrived at your family’s house, it was certainly nicer than you remembered. Right on the beach and decently sized, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

You hear about a party when you’re at the gas station getting a drink and decide to go. You show up to all sorts of different social groups, people that are clearly visiting for vacation like you, the richer kids of the island, and the lower class ones. Naturally your eyes fall on the shaggy blonde haired boy who’s currently linking arms with a girl and having a drinking contest, watching the small bead of beer drip onto his chin and down his toned stomach. Target acquired.

“Hey blondie! If you want a real drinking challenge, go against me” he turned his head in your direction, eyes trailing up and down your body with a smirk as he walked over to you.

“Oh yeah princess? You think you can beat me?” you give him a cocky smirk and hold your hand out for a cup. He hands you one and fills it with beer, doing the same to his now empty cup, never once taking his eyes off of you.

“Game on…” you give him a questioning gaze.

“Oh shit sorry, JJ. JJ Maybank, but you can call me daddy” he gives you a wink that makes you laugh, you tell him your name as he links his arm around yours and signals his friend to start a countdown.

“3…2…1…go!” the both of you bring the cup to your lips and begin drinking as fast as you can, beer dripping down your chin and into your shirt.

Of course you won, what good would living in a town full of parties do if you didn’t know how to win a drinking contest? You’ve practically trained for this your whole life. You throw the cup to the sand and unlink your arm from his, throwing them in the air and letting out a loud cheer. He looks at you in amusement, a small smirk on his face as he playfully holds his hands in surrender before getting on his knees and bowing to you.

“All hail the new drinking champion of the OBX”

His friends laugh to themselves as they watch the two of you, deciding to go find their own entertainment and leave you two be. You extend your hand to him and pull him back to his feet, a mischievous look on your face.

“So…do I get a prize?” you bring your hand to his arm, resting it on his bicep as you slowly grace it up and down watching as goosebumps covered his body and his breathing halted.

“That depends princess,” he chuckled nervously, eyes darting around the beach and crowd of people “what do you want?” what you said next he never would have been able to prepare for.

“How about you and I go off somewhere alone and you show me what other uses you can put your tongue and fingers to, taste something sweeter than beer hm? Win a different kind of competition” your hand has trailed from his arm to his chest, slowly gravitating down to the top of his shorts, stopping to hook them in his waistband as you waited for an answer.

“Fuck, let’s go. I know a spot” he grabbed your hand and pulled you away to a secluded area of the beach. He must come here often because he had a bag hidden nearby that was equipped with a towel and condoms, he pulled the towel out and laid it on the sand before crawling onto it.

You straddle him, his hands wandering all over your body and pulling your top off. You lean your head down and kiss him, the kiss is full of passion as each of you fight for dominance. He wins, it’s hard to focus on anything other than the pool in your panties and his large hands roaming your body. You break the kiss to remove your bra, getting off his lap briefly to remove your pants and underwear, leaving you completely naked for him. He lets out a small whistles, eyes raking up and down your body as he removes his pants and boxers before pulling you back into his lap. Your bare cunt makes contact with his hardened cock and he lets out a small groan, you begin grinding against it as your lips connect to his again. Your soft moans against his lips test his patience, he’s normally one to take his time with a girl and make her feel good first. Get her nice and wet and ready for his cock so he doesn’t hurt her, but you? You were making that hard, and he couldn’t hold off any longer.

He pulls away and reaches for a condom, sliding it onto his cock before asking you for consent. You nod eagerly, soft pants falling from your lips, and he lines the tip up with your dripping hole before slowly pushing the tip inside. You let out a small moan, he was much more girthy and long than you expected, the biggest you’d been with by far. It stretched you out so fucking well, made you feel so full which caused your head to go empty. You feel him push in all the way, staying still and resting his forehead against yours until you were adjusted.

“Please move” you whimper, he listens and begins to thrust up into you as you lightly circle and bounce your hips. Your head is thrown back and his lips are all over your neck gently biting and licking, your moans mixing together to make a sinful harmony. You start bouncing faster, desperate for more, and he begins to match your pace. Cock slamming against your cervix with each bounce and thrust of your hips, your mouth is slack and no words are able to come out. You’ve gone completely dumb from his cock and you’d just met, you know you won’t last much longer and only hope he’s as close as you are to climax.

“Fuck JJ, going to come soon. Want you to come with me” you manage to whimper out, head falling to his shoulder as your movements get lazy and his hips begin snapping into you at a rough pace.

“With this pussy squeezing me? Going to fucking bust princess” he groans into your neck, the both of you letting out muffled moans into the others skin as you fall apart in sync.

You both sit like that for a while, you can feel his cock soften inside you and let out a soft gasp when he lifts your hips up to slide out of you, whining at the empty feeling. He takes the condom off and ties it, walking to a nearby trash can and disposing of it knowing Kie would kick his ass for so meant different reasons if he threw it in the sand. You both get dressed and sit there catching your breath while staring at the stars, listening to the waves crash against the shore in a beautifully violent way. Neither of you say anything, the silence between you a good one. It’s late and you should probably get home, despite every bone in your body yearning to stay by his side.

“Hey, I should probably head home. This was real fun though” you give him a flirty wink and smile, standing and brushing the same off yourself, walking to a nearby exit point when you hear him holler for you.

“Y/N! Could I uh, get your number? You know in case you’re ever bored and in need of good dick this summer?” he was nervous. You found it cute and pulled your phone out as he did the same so you could exchange numbers. Your hands brushed and you felt a spark of electricity shoot through you, you give him a smile and go your separate ways. All night, you just replied what happened. He was all you could think about, you manage to get to sleep and wake up to a text.

My friends and I are going to the drive in tonight if you want to come with. Totally cool if not though, I get it

You smile to yourself and text back ‘That would be great!👍🏻’ before getting ready. That started your relationship, you learned all about him. Grew super close to him and the rest of the pogues, had weekly smoking sessions with the group and sometimes him alone which always ended in sex, learned about the abuse from his father, talked for hours until you both went blue in the face, and you’d learned about his desperate want to leave this shitty town.

Now it’s the end of summer, you have to go back to California and you never thought you’d be sad to go back to the place you’d grown to love. JJ had come over to your family’s house, they all loved him and knew how the two of you felt about each other because you were the two most obvious people alive, to hang with you one last time before you left. The two of you are laying in the hammock in the backyard listening to the distant waves, his hands holding yours from over your shoulder as you lie between his legs. What you were about to say was far fetched and crazy and you’d originally regret it.

“You know, if you wanna leave, come to California” your head tilted up slightly so you could look at him. A small smile broke out on his face as he shook his head.

“I wish” you sat up, turning so you were now facing each other.

“I’m serious. Come be a freak with me in California. Loving me is all you need to feel like I have all Summer, we can get a little apartment and slow dance to rock music until the neighbors hate us, we can kiss while we do it, keep having our talks until we’re blue in the face together. It doesn’t have to be now, but if you’re serious about leaving them California with me is a great option” you hadn’t realized you’d started crying, it was dumb and silly. But you spoke with fire behind your eyes and determination in your voice as you grabbed his hands.

“Okay. That sounds nice baby” he gives you a toothy grin, maybe it wouldn’t be tomorrow. But life in California with you didn’t sound so bad, you throw your arms around him and give him a rough kiss that sends the both of you to the ground. You groan in pain before laughing hysterically as he lies there motionless, you roll him off and wipe the tears from your face.

“You’re such a freak, perfect example of why Cali is out home” he sits up and gives you a look full of love.

“Our home, I like that” he leans in and gives you one final kiss for the night, knowing tomorrow you’d leave and he’d have to figure out how to handle that pain and absence of you. But right now you were here, and you had a future planned with him, that was all he wanted to focus on.

[romanarose]

About a Girl: Chapter 6

Beautiful header by my beloved @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Joel Miller x Trans!Fem!Reader (Nickname, Blue)

Series Masterlist : The Last of Us Masterlist : Full Masterlist

Summary: For week 4 of my pride event: Food, fun, fashion. Joel, Sarah, Blue, and

Warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter: 18+ ONLY!! I cannot warn against everything, but these are major themes. Joel is a lil ignorant but not out of hate. He just doesn't know. He's trying his best. There will be smut. Penetrative sex, all of the anal play, oral. There will be transphobia from other people. Addiction and alcoholism. QUICK child neglect not by Joel but I promise, Sarah is fine and is having a great time in life. Fetishization of women attracted to women by a shitty guy. Will update as needed. Again, this is adult content. Expect adult content.

Immersivity: Reader is transgender, AMAB female, reader has had gotten bottom surgery, not top, and is on hormones. reader has visible hair and a blue streak in hair, but not described. Could be braids, could be natural hair, whatever. Header is for aesthetics only. Reader is about Joel and Tommy's height. Let me know if i miss anything!

A/N: Not to sound like a 2012 wattpad writer but I cried writing this.

TRANS LIVES MATTER! TRANS YOUTH MATTER! TRANS ELDERLY MATTER! TRANS WOMEN MATTER! TRANS MEN MATTER! NON BINARY TRANS MATTER!

Joel woke up to the smell of pancakes. When he looked at his watch, he was shocked to find it was 11:45 pm. He couldn't believe it, he hadn’t slept later than 7 since… well since Sarah’s birth, probably. 

Memories of last night flooded to him. Blue. Kayla. Sarah screaming for him. Telling him Kayla threw her art away. Finding out Kayla let strange men around her… Joel rubbed his eyes, sighting deeply before staggering out of the small bed. How had him and Tommy and Sarah managed to sleep in here all night?

Joel’s heart swelled with love for his brother. He was a good man, despite his troubles, despite his addictions. He was a good uncle. Checking his phone, he saw 3 missed calls from Blue, and a few texts along the lines of “where are you?”. Shit. You were missed, he knew it. Joel’s heart began to beat rapidly, warmth flooding all over his body as he dreaded your reaction. Would you scream at him the way Kayla did? Or were you more the type to ignore him until he came begging. Would you accuse him of cheating on him with Kayla? He would never cheat on anyone, let alone you, and let alone with Kayla. How could he convince you on that? It probably looked suspicious… shit, and right after you and him made love for the first time?

He decided to get it over with, hitting the call back button with shaking hands.

“Hey! Joel, are you-” He’s too panicked, crouched over in Sarah’s small bed with his feet planted to the floor, jittering, for Joel to hear the concern in your voice.

“Blue, I’m so sorry I didn’t call back, I’m really, really sorry, it was a disaster at Kayla’s, Sarah was screaming, and, and we got home and she was just so upset, me and Tommy slept inthe bed with her-”

“Joel?”

It was with the call of your voice Joel realized it was getting hard to breathe, his head feeling light.

“Yeah?”

“I need you to breathe with me.”

Like a couple of times before, you guide him through breathing, you notice his change and without judging you simply walk him through it. It was easy, when you worked him through it. 

When it was all said and done, you continued on, not patronizing him or needing to talk about it. You just go back to the question. “Is Sarah okay?”

Joel took another breath. “Yeah, yeah” He sighed out. “She’s okay. Had a dream me and Tommy died on the farm, Kayla… well she locked her in her room. It was bad.”

Joel heard you sigh on the other end. “Shit, that’s awful Joel. I’m really sorry. How is she this morning?” He could tell you cared.

“Oh, I uh… I don’t know. I just woke up. Tommy’s downstairs with her…”

Your laugh on the other end makes him smile a little. “You slept in a princess bed all night, handsome?”

He laughed back. “Built it, might as well use it, I guess.”

“Well, thanks for calling me back, I was a little worried. You okay?”

He swore he could still feel the sting of the slap on his face. “Yeah, I’m okay.” as long as she was, so was he.

“Okay. Go see you’re daughter, cowboy.”

He paused. “You don’t… got any questions?”

“Like what?”

“Like… you’re not worried I slept with Kayla? Since I didn't respond?”

“Did you?”

“No, not a chance.” He’d been down one time, never going back again. 

“Then that's that. Never even crossed my mind, Joel. If I thought you were a cheater, I wouldn’t be with you.”

How different you were. 

“Listen, Sarah’s had a tough night, I wanna spend time with just her and Tommy this weekend, but… wanna meet her in a couple days?”

“Yes!” You sounded so excited. “I would love that so much!”

“I thought maybe we take her to the park together, get some Olive Garden after, talk to her about us.”

When Joel finalized plans, he walked downstairs to find Sarah on the counter laughed and giggling while Tommy sprayed whipped cream on her nose, Sarah struggling to lick it with her tongue before Tommy kissed her. Whipped cream went everywhere, and Sarah laughed so hard she was practically screaming. When she saw him, Sarah stood on the counter and Joel opened his arms for Sarah to jump right in. “I love you so much, baby girl.” He turned to Tommy and mouthed a thank you.

*

Wednesday came soon enough, Joel rushing to pick Sarah up and struggling to drive the speed limit with her in the car. Once in, Tommy thankfully took Sarah to get her a snack and entertain her so Joel could get ready. He showered, scrubbing down every inch. He didn’t need to scrub his ass, pits, and feet that much, it’s not like you were getting up in there today. You wouldn’t be sleeping over. But he needed this to go perfect.

Little did he know, you were on the other side of town stressing yourself out. You’d met Sarah briefly so she’s already a little familiar with you but you were still nervous. This needed to go perfect.

Joel was your dream man. He was responsible, sober, kind. He was a god dad and that was fucking hot. You loved him, loved his cute, slightly pudgy face, loved his soft heart and gentle, calloused hands. You loved that he cared so deeply for Sarah, Tommy, Tess, the way he respected everyone around him from the McDonald’s drive through worker to your best friend, sitting across from you.

“Babe, you look gorgeous.”

“I know I’m gorgeous!!” You stomp your feet a little in a faux fit. “I need to scream ‘step mom’ material”

Talia rolled her eyes. “The way it sounds, Sarah needs a mom mom still.”

“Girl.” You deadpan. “I hear you, but you heard the lecture Joel gave Tommy, he still respects her as the mother of his child. And Sarah loves her mom. I’m not tryna make waves with that crazy bitch either. I would like for all of us to work together for her.”

“You know what Tess told me?”

You try putting your hair up in the mirror, trying to pull a more teacher aesthetic. “What?”

“She said once, when Joel and her were broken up, Kayla thought Joel and Tess were sleeping together and she went to her house in the middle of the night screaming she was going to kill her.”

You laugh, and immediately feeling bad. “Sorry, sorry, that’s not funny” but you were still laughing. “It’s just…” Another giggle “Tess is NOT the one to be playing with.” You grab a scarf for your hair, Talia saying she needed to see it normal and cool.

“No! Not at all!” Talia was laughing with you. “She answered the door with a fucking gun to her face, Tess said she looked like she was about to piss herself!”

“Tess ever show you any pictures? I ain’t got no idea what she looks like.” You continue looking in the mirror.

Talia shakes her head. “No, but she ain’t got hair like mine. Didn’t know shit about Sarah’s hair. Joel knows more than her.”

“Yeah.” You sigh, dreamily at the thought of your loving boyfriend washing his sweet girl’s hair. “He’s great, ain’t he?”

Standing up, Talia wraps your arm around you. Your oldest friend, your rock, your sister. “He’s a good one. But babe? Ditch the leather.”

You look down, then at her in the mirror. “Skirt?”

“Blue jeans.” She taps your thigh. “For fucks sake, Blue, wear some fucking blue jeans for once in your life.”

*

“Talia I’m gonna throw up”

You stood outside Joel home, you could even hear him telling Tommy, ‘For the love of god, please switch the clothes to the dryer’. Still your nerves were off the hook.

“You’ve literally met her before.”

“But not like this!”

“Blue, babe, I spent an afternoon with them. She’s a sweet girl, easy to please. She’s gonna love you, just like all your school kids do.”

She was right. You were a loved teacher. “Okay. Okay. It’s gonna be fine. It’s gonna be fucking fine.”

“Hell yeah. Go get ‘em.”

You knock, then hear clamoring. ‘Tommy don’t you-’

But Tommy Miller opened the door, cheeky grin on her face as he leaned on the doorframe. “Heya Blue, glad to see you and Joel made it offi- Hey!” Tommy was yanked away as you laugh, Joel appearing and whispering in a harsh tone that Sarah doesn’t know yet, that’s the whole point of today.

He turns to you, soft smile on his face. “Sorry about him, come on in.” You wanted to kiss him, but it wasn’t time yet.

“Sarah?” Joel calls. “Come downstairs baby girl!”

You can hear the pitter patter of little feet in shoes down the stairs, Sarah flying into the hall with a bright smile and cute, casual clothes. “Hi!”

She was even cuter than you remembered, and the, albeit adorable, photo of her in Joel’s wallet and the three on his pickup dash and one inside his ballcap did not do her justice. How could her mom not want to be around her?

“Hi Sarah, remember me?”

“Yeah! Your name’s Blue, like the color in your hair.”

You chuckle a little, fighting the desire to take Joel’s hand for your own anxiety. “Well, close. That’s not my real name, but that’s what everyone calls me, so you can too!”

“Are you dating my daddy?”

Joel looked like he was about to panic. He planned a whole outing, a nice dinner (as nice as he could afford) and wanted to have a heart to heart. Sarah needed to approve. If Sarah wasn’t ready for this, you knew Joel would end it and you wouldn’t blame him. Poor baby has been through so much instability, she doesn’t need more. “Your dad and I are friends. We want to explain more, but thought we’d take you out for some fun first, how does that sound?”

Sarah lit up, ignoring her previous question. “Oh yes!” She turned to Joel. “Daddy please can we go?”

Smiling fondly, Joel patted her head, careful not to mess up the braids Talia taught him. “Darl’n, I already told you we were going out! Come on, vamnos.”

*

The day went swimmingly, Joel delighted in watching you run around on the playground with her while the weather was still nice. Goddamn, your ass looks good in jeans. Well, it looked good in leather… and in a dress… but GODDAMN the blue jeans… blue jeans! Fuck, you were everything he wanted, and it seemed Sarah loved you. Sarah, Tommy, Tess… the opinions that mattered most, all liked you, loved you even. As for Joel, in these short few months, he couldn’t imagine not having you going forward. The timing worked out suspiciously well. For the first month of real, honest togetherness, Sarah was with her mom more, allowing time together. Now that it blew as it always does, you and here were meeting and it was going great. Tommy had even come by the park to hang out for a little, the four of you spending family time- family? Was he considering you family already? He was in deep.

You’d taken her shopping as promised, insisting on buying her a dress as a treat. Sarah then made an off comment about her Kindergarten friend, Ellie, and wishing her and Ellie could match some day. She said Ellie ‘wasn’t living with her mommy and daddy’. Joel had sussed out a while ago that she was a foster kid.It wasn’t meant to be asking for anything, but you made her absolute day by buying another one for her to bring to Ellie. She hadn’t stopped talking about them matching for an hour, and Joel was a little worried Ellie might reject it. He’d only ever seen Ellie t-shirts and jeans, usually dirty. He didn’t think she’d like a rainbow dress.

Sarah then insisted you buy a dress, and you even let her pick out one for you. While trying it on, Joel couldn’t help stifle a laugh as you walked out in a hot pink poofy dress, looking like a fish out of water. It wasn’t that you looked bad; you were beautiful, of course but… clearly, this was not your style. Still, you smile and humor Sarah when she says you look “like a princess!!!”

As Joel watches Sarah “push” you down the slide and you turning around to surprise her by snatching her up on the way down and Tommy yelling to scare you both at the bottom, he feels his eyes tear up, just a tiny bit. This is what his future could look like.

*

At dinner, Tommy ended up coming along. If things went badly, Sarah could get some space with her favorite uncle. Dessert ordered, Joel grabbed your hand. It was time.

“Sarah, there’s something we’d like to talk to you about.” Joel glanced at Tommy sitting next to her. Tommy gave a soft, reassuring smile. He breathed, like how you taught him when feeling anxious, and continued as Sarah stuffed a breadstick in her mouth. “You asked if Blue and I are dating and… we are. I don’t want to keep secrets from you, and I want you to know you will always be my number one, okay?”

Sarah looked between the two of you. “So… you’re not marrying mommy?”

Joel held his breath for a moment at the mention of Kayla. “No, baby girl. Your mommy will always be special to me, but we aren’t getting married. We will always be a family, but not in that way.” 

She nods, thoughtfully. “Okay… I guess mommy was wrong. I won’t tell her.”

With that, Joel locks eyes with Tommy for a moment, then Sarah again. “No, no baby. You can tell your mommy, you don’t have to keep secrets from us, okay?” He squeezed your hand. “Did mommy say she was gonna marry me?”

Quickly, Sarah’s face turned sour, shifting uncomfortable and not looking at Joel anymore. “Daddy I wanna go home.”

Joel turned to you. He was confused how things turned so bad with her so fast. “Okay baby, we can go…”

“Joel?” You grab his attention. “May I?”

He hesitated, always trying to be the one to fix Sarah… but you worked with kids, maybe you could help. He nods.

“Sarah hunny, wanna step outside with me?”

*

By the time she got outside, little tears with in her eyes, and redness sprinkled on her face. 

“Sarah.”  You crouch down to her level. “Can we tell me what’s wrong? I promise I’ll try to help you. I want to help you.”

Her lip quivered, and before long Sarah was bawling in your arms. “Mommy has a boyfriend but she says she’s marrying daddy but daddy is dating you but mommy said not to tell anyone about any of it but I told daddy and now mommy is gonna be so mad! She’s always mad at me, she’s mad when she brushes my hair and when I don’t like dinner and when I can’t read the words and now she’ll be mad again!”

Your teacher's senses were tingling. You were better than to ask too many prying questions, but didn’t want to just leave it. “What does she do when she’s mad?” You stroke her back. 

“Yells sometimes. Sometimes she doesn’t talk to me.” She starts calming down, getting the tears out still.

You were relieved. “I’m so sorry that happens to you, beautiful. You absolutely do not deserve it. You are a smart, thoughtful, kindheart and beautiful girl and there is nothing you can do to deserve being ignored or yelled at, okay? But your daddy and your uncle Tommy love you so, so much, and you can trust your daddy with anything. You don’t have to keep secrets, but he will keep yours. He won’t tell your mommy what you said, and you don’t have to keep me a secret.”

A few minutes and a tissue to her sweet face later, Sarah was happily eating chocolate mousse cake and telling Tommy not to eat it.

*

Joel scrubbed his face, stressed at what you filled him in on. After watching Matilda, you hung out with Tommy while Joel put a sleeping Sarah to bed. Once she was safe and secure, Joel spending a little time just sitting by her head, he left her be. She was wearing a headscarf protecting her hair, something she did not take off tonight for the first time. You made it look cool to her.

After interrupting you and Tommy’s loud laughing, you three watched some evening TV before you called it a night, citing drop-off duty. When he walked you to your motorcycle, fretting over the darkness you’d be riding home in. Once alone, you filed him in on what Sarah said.

“She’s under so much stress, and she’s only 5.” He said with a little whine, frustrated and obviously feeling like he’s failing.

You take your boyfriend into your arms. “Joel… baby you’ve done everything to protect her, to make her feel beautiful loved and be happy. She is obsessed with you and Tommy… and her mom, but for the wrong reasons. She wants the approval you and Tommy give her from her mom but… you can’t make Kayla change.”

“I don’t wanna keep her away from her mom, it ain’t right. A girl needs a mom- or um… Sarah needs her mom, not that all girls need a mom or a dad or-”

You cut him off, chuckling. “I know what you mean Joel.”

He clears his throat, still hugging you, seeming to hide his face in your neck. “I’m sorry, I know I say stuff like that and it may not come off like an alley, but I promise I love all y’all. You, Tess, Bill and Frank even if Bill is a grump. Talia too, I care about her a lot.”

“I know, baby. I know. It’s not you, it’s just the words and phrases our language is built around. But I agree, Sarah is a girls girl.” You pull back, cupping his face. “I’m not trying to take Kayla’s place, but I want you to know, if our relationship keeps progressing, I wanna be that girl for Sarah. I wanna be there for her, for her school dances and getting make up and all the fun activities she’ll go to, buy her cute barbies and,” You giggle. “Let her take it out on me when she has bad hair days or break out. Although you and I are both gonna have fly by the seat of our pants in the puberty department.”

He chuckles too, but the moon glistens in his eyes. “You really wanna be with me that long?”

“Joel, right now, I never wanna be away from you.”

Joel tucks your head in, gently kissing your forehead. “Me neither. Thank you for… being willing to do this at Sarah’s pace. At my pace.”

“Of course. I’m not in any hurry, I want you both to be okay.”

Joel loved that you cared about Sarah so much, cared about her well-being. For a while, he just held you, feeling you close, the warmth of your body. He couldn’t help think of last weekend, knowing you intimately. He thought you’d feel different than other women he’d been with, and it did. But not because you were trans, but because it was you. You were special. The physical feeling of sex was indistinguishable but the emotional connection he had with you was unlike any other. He loved Kayla, he really did. But it was never like this. He loved Tess in a different sort of way, a bond that was stronger than what he had with Kayla, something deeper but even then, sex with her wasn’t like this. 

No one was like you.

“Do you want more kids?” Your voice broke him out of it, and he looked into your eyes. The moon shone off the blue in your hair, pulling his gaze for just a second. “Like, another one?”

He blinked, “Oh. Can you…?” He didn’t think you could have kids… did the surgery include adding other things?

It was clear you were trying not to laugh. “No, no unfortunately, the science isn’t there…” There is a little look of sadness, of longing, even as your eyes glittered with laughter. “That’s why I’m asking, I guess… Because I can’t…”

Joel considers this. He hadn’t really thought about it, being so busy with taking care of Sarah and not having romantic prospects… but the idea of another… he loves it. He loves Sarah and it's hard to imagine loving another kid that much… but Sarah would be a good sister and he would love another child… him and Kayla used to talk about a big family.

“I would, but… it’s not contingent. It’s not everything. Getting along with Sarah is. Tommy and Tess liking you is very important. But having kids… isn’t.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, relaxing a bit as you go in for a gentle kiss. “We could always adopt.”

He felt a smile growing. “Yeah, yeah we could.”

You squeeze his buttcheek, then mount your bike and put on your helmet. “Let’s get through Thursday first, cowboy.”

Joel smiled as you started the bike up. “I love you, Blue. Thanks for today.”

“Anything for you.”

Joel-y Poel-y Ole-y you sweet sweet man1!!!!!

PROTECT SARAH AT ALL COSTS!

Im so happy with this series. Next chapter wont be part of a theme but its whats needed to move things forward.

Enjoy the happy! It wont last!

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[contentloadingandstuff]

Fluff Headcanons - Spooky gaming with the genshin characters!

A/N: The fluff version of the Halloween special, and a bit of a new format. I hope you enjoy!

C/W: Modern AU, swearing, game-typical violence.

Alhaitham

This year, Alhaitham wanted something less conventional. Something that would really engage his mind with interesting commentary about society and the world at large, but still retain some of that spooky vibe. 

Cruelty Squad easily caught his attention with its assaulting graphics and interesting premise. It clearly begged for attention, and he was willing to humor it. 

It was precisely what he was looking for, and what an answer it was. Alhaitham had no trouble adjusting to a more corporate mindset.

Alhaitham: The super AI emerges from an extremely pornographic ultra hyper suck and fuck…

Kaveh: Um… What? What are you talking about?

Alhaitham: You don't understand, Kaveh. Everything that surrounds us? It's Gorbino's Quest. The Gorbino's Quest... of life.

Ganyu

The poor little cinnamon roll isn't that much of a horror fan. Violence and death generally unsettles her, but Ganyu still wants to feel some of that holiday spirit. 

After a lengthy deliberation, Ganyu chose Little Nightmares. The graphics are quite pleasing to the eye, it is horror, but not so horrible and violent. At least that's what she heard.

Ganyu: Oh, look! It's a Nome, right? And it's offering me food… How nice of it! Um… Oh n-no! Why would you d-do that?!

Amber

The great outdoors with a horror theme? Count her in!

Amber made sure to avoid spoilers to have the full, unprecedented The Forest experience. The landscape is so serene and peaceful… The freedom of movement, the sounds of nature and the survival elements are so fun and relaxing!

True, there are some hostile people on the island, but they seem harmless enough.

Until the night falls…

Amber: Wait… What's that? That doesn't look human… Did it just birth out… Ew… Yikes! It's coming at me! 

Suffice to say, Amber stuck around until more or less the moment when you have to chop up bodies and make effigies out of the parts.

Beidou

Alcohol, hard rock and murdering demons with big guns is how Beidou plays on Halloween, so she'll gladly hop on Doom Eternal.

There's nothing better than impaling a snake demon's head with its own broken arm, right as the beat drops. 

Beidou: Life has enough undefeatable horrors. Let's just have some fun tonight!

Ningguang

The old ones are the good ones! Ningguang doesn't play a lot of video games, but she did like a few titles back in her younger days. 

On this special occasion, Ningguang got a box of her old possessions to dig through, and found the original Dungeon Keeper on CD. 

Everything is just as she remembered it was. 

Ningguang: Oh, these imps… They are the perfect workers, aren't they? They don't eat, sleep, need vacation, have a social life, and they work harder when you slap them. Ah, if only I had them as my subordinates…

Keqing: *narrows eyes*

Kokomi

Another fan of the retro side of games, Kokomi enjoys a good tactical challenge - developing the ability to conjure small scale plans is as important as improving the grand ones.

Her pick is Myth II: Soulblighter. It’s a brutal, unforgiving RTS with a distinctively dark atmosphere - just perfect for the season at hand.

Even when Halloween comes to a close, Kokomi will find it hard to drop the game. The insanity that is Legendary is quite addictive indeed…

Kokomi: You here… You here… And now the crescendo!

Game: “Move here move there…”

Game: “Catch!”

Game: *explosion*

Game: “Casualty.”

Kokomi: Oh. Change of plans, I guess…

Yae Miko

Upon hearing of the wonderful possibilities for tormenting the other party, Miko didn't hesitate to bring out the Mora for Dead By Daylight and all of its DLC. 

Though it was quite fun at first, the ugly nature of the game soon surfaced. As none of her friends were brave enough to delve into this swamp, she was forced to join up with random people, who frequently threw the games. 

Such a combination was enough to make even such an ancient and wise kitsune lose her absolute cool.

Ei: Why are you crouching behind that tree, Miko?

Miko: The killer has caught one of my teammates, and I will release them by ambushing them with a flashlight! 

Miko: Come on… Now! You didn't expect that, did y- What?? Lightborn?! Again?! Who even plays it nowadays?! Oh, you daft, blind motherf-

Ei: Miko!

Miko: Oh… Hm. Sorry. I got a little carried away. But that's sooo unfair, isn't it? Why would they add a perk that cancels a whole mechanic? I can't believeitthegameissokillersided…

Xiangling

Xiangling absolutely didn't look forward to Halloween, especially with Hu Tao around. She just can't take horror, at all, of any kind, ever. Especially jumpscares.

She still couldn't believe that she agreed to play a horror game, let alone one suggested by the director. The one and only Five Nights At Freddy's at that.

Much to Hu Tao's amusement, she didn't even make it past Night 1. Xiangling was thoroughly spooked, and after being jumpscared once she completely refused to keep playing. 

Seeing Xiangling so terrified made Guoba very upset, and Hu Tao quickly apologized to avoid being roasted by the angry god. 

Hu Tao: So he killed the kids, but then! Their souls escaped their robot prisons and made an old spring lock suit crush him to death! WoOoo~

Xiangling: Ah! Hu Tao! No more! 

Guoba: Nane na! Grr…

Hu Tao: Oh, don't fret little Guoba! I'm just joking!

Zhongli

Morax always had trouble catching up with the latest cultural and technological trends of the humans. Sure, he can use a computer more than well enough, but he finds third and first person video games confusing. The gameplay is most often too fast and rapidly changing for him to be up to speed with it, let alone enjoy it. 

Throughout all of his exponentially long life, nobody was as persistent in including him in the festivities as Hu Tao. She tried to convince Zhongli to play something horror-related, but he was assertive. So, the director decided to find a game that would suit his liking - an indie title. 

Her pick fell on Water Womb World - it's simple mechanically, is quite disturbing and has an interesting concept. 

Much to her surprise, Zhongli thoroughly enjoyed his fifteen minutes with the game, even if he didn't find it very scary.

Zhongli: Ah, I agree with the message of this title. The blind belief in deities can lead to fanaticism, which breeds regress rather than progress. I do think that a more healthy and critical approach to Rex Lapis' rule would be beneficial to our current day society. Especially that the age of gods draws to an end…

Hu Tao: Aiya! Do you have to turn everything into a lecture, Zhongli? You're not my grandpa, are you?

Hu Tao

An avid enjoyer of the spookfest, Hu Tao decided to pick something hitting closer to home this year - Mortuary Assistant.

The gameplay loop feels great! Just like in her line of work, just without the smell. She's having the time of her life preparing the corpse for burial. And hunting the demon. That's also quite cool!

Hu Tao: *hums while wheeling the corpse into the crematory* 

Game: "Are you sure?"

Hu Tao: Yup! I know your tricks more than well. Aiyaya, you could try something more interesting next round! Furnace time~

Game: *sounds of fire and demonic screaming*

Hu Tao: Toodle-oo~

Bennet, Noelle, Fischl, Razor

A few weeks before Halloween, Bennett mentioned a game night, since he couldn't be there in person. Noelle, diligent as ever, picked this up as a cue to start looking for something. 

Luckily for her, Phasmophobia was on a large and affordable discount, so after proposing the idea and organizing a money pool, they all got to proving the existence of ghosts.

Lisa lent Razor her personal computer for the night, on condition that she could take a little peek every now and then at their session without interrupting - and what an amusement it was, as none of them are especially acquainted with horror.

Noelle: "The ghost responds only to people who are alone." Somebody has to go in to talk to it… 

Razor: Razor won't go! Ghost scary!

Bennett: I would go, but with my luck, the ghost will eat me right away…

Fischl: Hmph! Although yes, I, Fischl, The Prinzessin Der Verurteilung and the founder of The Immernatchreich possess the courage to face demons and spawns of darkness alike, I…

Everyone: So you'll go then?

Amy: Um… N-no! You m-misunderstood!

Furina

The Great-And-Grand Archon of Fontaine played and saw every horror game and movie, and never once got scared. Or that's what she claims, at least.

That's why Focalors decided to prove her excellence with a true, dark challenge she could easily overcome, thus proving her gaming capabilities for all to see!

In hindsight, Darkest Dungeon wasn't the best of choices she could have made… It did amuse Monsieur Neuvilette, however. 

Neuvillette: I think you should retreat. Your heroes are close to dying. 

Furina: I appreciate your advice, my dear Iudex, but your worries are misplaced! My Crusader will deal a critical hit, thus ending the pig-man's miserable opposition, and granting us treasure galore! Watch and marvel at my skill!

Game: "A singular strike!"

Furina: Ahaha, see? I told you it would be fine~ Wait… It's not dead yet…?

Game: "Mortality - clarified in a single strike!"

Furina: Um…

Game: "There can be no hope in this hell, no hope at all…"

Game: "And now the true test - hold fast, or expire."

Game: "Those who cover injury find it in no short supply."

Game: "As life ebbs, terrible vistas of emptiness reveal themselves."

Furina: Ret- T-tactical withdrawal! 

Game: "Cornered, trapped, forced to fight on!"

Game: "This is no place for the weak, or the foolhardy."

Game: "More blood soaks the soil, feeding the evil therein."

Game: "Perched at the very precipice of oblivion."

Game: "More dust, more ashes, more disappointment."

Game: "Another life wasted in the pursuit of glory and gold."

Game: "Wounds to be tended. Lessons to be learned."

Neuvillette: Lady Furina, if only you had-

Furina: Silence.

Shenhe

Shenhe never gets scared. The most terrible of monsters or existential terrors are no match for her training and resolve, no matter how unexpected they might be. She might not get scared, but she can get startled, right?

Who else would pose that question but Hu Tao, the mistress of horrors herself? It was always her objective to get some sort of reaction out of the adepti disciple, no matter how insignificant and small it might be. Many things were attempted - scary movies, troubling situations, body horror, cosmic horror, existential horror… But none of them ever worked. Shenhe remained stalwart.

Out of desperation, Hu Tao was forced to reach for the ultimate weapon. The bane of those unprepared. The myth. The legend. The game.

The Scary Maze Game. 

After plugging in an old spare monitor, she invited Shenhe to “test her precision”, and stepped a few safe meters back. 

The monitor ended up skewered with her polearm, but Shenhe did yelp - much to her delight. 

Not all was fun and games though, as Hu Tao got the mother of all lectures from Cloud Retainer. Something about Shenhe’s red ropes breaking, but the director didn’t pay much attention, and just nodded along.

Hu Tao: Heya, Shenhe… You don’t mind the little scare I gave you back on Halloween night, do you…?

Shenhe: Oh? Well, as much as I was upset during the moment, I must admit it was quite… cathartic. I never experienced anything like that. I do not hold any grudge towards you. Actually… Thank you for that, director Hu Tao.

Hu Tao: Phew! And I was here thinking I’ll share the fate of that display!

🎃Happy Halloween!🎃

[indras-wife]

hiii !!! I was wondering if I could request a yandere indra with a fem reader who smokes cigarettes? Maybe she grew up with a bad childhood, resulting her using cigarettes as a coping mechanism. I was wondering if you could make her be quite independent since she basically had to raise herself and she's quick to snap back at people whenever she doesn't get a cigarette since it contains nicotine to calm you down and makes you relaxed?

Also whenever the two would speak about their childhood, she would genuinely be quite surprised how it seemed a lot more normal than hers ? thank you !!!

This has to be one of the best requests I got anon! Indra has a very interesting woman to deal with it seems~ Two independent people... I wonder how this will go~✨👀 I was not sure whether you wanted modern or no, but I tried to write in a way that can suit both modern au and the anime era. Hope its okay with you sweetie(if no, let me know. I will write a separate one with the desired concept) 💖

A smoker darling...Indra never thought he would be so feral for such a woman. The way this woman presses the cigarette to her red pained lips, lights it, smokes and then looks at him with her jet black eyes as she puffs out the smoke, drives him to the edge.

He was first VERY VERY against the idea that his sweetheart is smoking. Not only because he hates the smell of burning nicotine, but also because women of inappropriate behavior are the ones smoking. In short, Indra thought of his darling being a prostitute upon their first interaction. Very judgmental of him, but this man has his opinions and he stick to them, as bad as they sound to others.

Surprisingly for him, as repellent as her smoking was, he was somehow enchanted by her. This man could not help himself but think of her every minute of his day. What was she doing now? Was she wearing her signature red lipstick? Was she smoking? Why was she smoking? Did she have a reason to smoke? The more he thought of her, the more possessive he became of a woman who he doesn't know well. However, later on, his obsessed ideas served the basis of their closeness.

When they got together, Indra was TRYING hard to persuade his darling to stop smoking. "The smell of nicotine gets stuck in your hair. I hate it. Stop smoking. Why are you even doing this?" Such sentences were being heard by his darling every day, 24/7, every hour of the day. At first she was laughing at him, not paying much attention to his rumbling and not giving him a definite reason for her habit but the more he spoke about it, she could not hide the reason for her smoking.

"This is just coping mechanism for me Indra. I smoke to relax and unwind" she explained, holding a cigarette between her delicate fingers. "I have been smoking since I was a teen, around 13 so its already something I got used to and cant change. Sorry"

Indra would just furrow his eyebrows at her explanation, feeling conflicted with many questions. Why was she smoking as a child? What made her smoke? Didn't her parent try to stop her? He had all the questions in the world ready for her, waiting for a moment to ask them.

His darling, defeated by his persistent nature(she found it hot nevertheless), agreed to reveal her reasonings, only if Indra promised to share about his childhood. Thinking he can escape, Indra agreed, not thinking much into it.

" My mom just gave birth to me, nothing else. She didn't raise me Indra. I did. I raised myself in the streets full of drug addicts, alcoholics, prostitutes and many other people who were shunned by everyone around them in their lives. The only thing that my mother did was beat me when I failed to get her the alcohol of her choice. Smoking helped me get through that depressive part of my life. I still have nightmares from my days of living in the streets so....smoking helps me cope with them.."

Indra was taken back by his darling's backstory. He was guessing something terrible happened that led her to this path of self-destruction, but he was not expecting for her story to be this...dark. He loved that his darling was independent, relying only on herself, but he had no idea that her childhood was the reason for that characteristic. Indra always acknowledge that his life was hellish, cruel and overall fucked up, but hers...Even worse than his!

He began to feel more sympathetic towards her and her smoking habits. Of course, he would not fully tolerate it, but he would stop driving her mad with requiring her to stop smoking.

He has some...unsuccessful attempts at trying to stop her smoking. He would sometimes snatch the cigarettes from her lips and drop it to the ground. He would steal her cigarette packs and burn them without her seeing, and when his darling would ask if he has seen her cigarettes he would just give a short "no". Of course his darling could instantly figure his doings, but most of the time she would not speak.

His darling, however, snapped one day at him for doing his usual "stop-her-from-smoking" routine. On that particular day (the day her mother died), she was feeling more anxious, so her only thought was to smoke. She picked a cigarette out of her pocket, but it was snatched away in an instant. Her eyes met with Indra's who was towering over her with a warning glare. His darling was not in the mood for his usual tactics so she just pushed him away hard and run off somewhere to smoke in peace. Indra tried to go after her but failed.

In the end, surprisingly, his darling introduced smoking to Indra, seeing how stressed he was from his duties. This was now something he couldn't live without and he both blamed his darling and thanked her.

He would not let her smoke with anyone else after he also got in the rabbit hole. Seeing his darling smoke was HOT and he was too possessive to let any other man see her. His darling didn't mind this and was in fact enjoying his possessive side.

These two would have silent "dates" where they would stand in the balcony of the house, smoke and look at the stars above them. A very romantic date indeed~

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Angels Are Avian-Adjacent"

Rated: Teen

Pairing: Steve x Bucky

Tags: wing fic, avian creatures, angel Steve, veterinarian Bucky, supernatural meet-cute, fantasy au, injury and medical treatment

Summary: Unlike Bucky's regular patients, Steve was going to need a bit more reassurance than a simple belly rub or placating scritch behind the ear.

(A last minute fill to grab a B-I-N-G-O on Stucky'Verse Bingo!)

A fill for @stuckyversebingo

card: sarah-writes-stucky / sarahyellow

Square D1: "Creature: Avian"

“I … I don’t think I can do this,” Bucky stuttered, hands fluttering about nervously, hovering over one of the massive wings and then pulling away again, too freaked out to touch him. “You’re hurt. Y-you need a doctor.”

“You’re a doctor.”

“I’m a veterinarian!” 

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Steve said, voice coming out strained due to the pain he was in, “but don’t you still receive a fair degree of medical training for that?”

“For animals!” Bucky blustered. “N-not, not humans! And certainly not for … whatever the heck you are!”

Steve huffed in frustration. “I told you, I’m an—”

“An angel. Yeah, you said that.” Bucky still didn’t want to believe it, even though the proof was in the pudding, and the pudding was currently lying face down on his clinic’s exam table—all two hundred pound, six foot tall, approximately twelve foot wingspan of it. Bucky laughed slightly hysterically. “This is insane!”

“Be that as it may, this actually hurts like a motherfucker, so if you don’t mind, isn’t there something you could give me?” Steve grit out. Bucky hesitated, until the creature turned to face him, a wince taking over his—sweaty and visibly pained, but also admittedly angelic—features. “Please?” he breathed, fear and pleading in his eyes. “I can’t go to a regular hospital. Please. You understand, don’t you?”

Bucky nodded after a beat. “Yeah,” he whispered, though he really didn’t understand a fucking thing at all. “O-okay.” He swallowed nervously and looked around, trying to gather his wits. “Um, do - do you know how meds affect you?”

Steve shook his head and tried to shrug, but when his shoulders moved his wings did too, and he gasped sharply, his pearly white teeth bared in a pained snarl—though far prettier than any made by Bucky’s usual patients. “I don’t know,” he said tightly, voice clipped from the pain of trying to hold himself still. “I’ve never needed medicine. I don’t usually get sick. or hurt.”

Bucky made a dubious face. “O-kaay … well ... how much do you weigh?” 

Steve gave him his best guess, and Bucky decided that he probably wouldn’t kill a roughly two hundred-twenty pound, avian-adjacent humanoid creature with a conservative amount of ketamine. Despite the wings he had sprouting out of his back, Steve did still appear to be mammalian in nature. The guy had nipples, leastways.

 “Okay,” Bucky said, sighing as he pulled out his phone. “Hang on for a sec.”

“What are you doing?”

His lips twisted as he started typing. “You’re just a tad heavier than my usual patients, bud. I’m consulting Dr. Google for your dosage conversion.”

After navigating past a slew of search results promoting crisis hotlines and addiction recovery centers, he was able to find the information he needed to calculate how much of the drug to give Steve. “Okay,” he breathed, still wildly nervous and freaked out over what was going on. He went and prepared an injection of the medication and came back to prep the angel’s arm with a tourniquet and alcohol swab. Steve didn’t make a peep when the needle went in, and a minute later, his body was visibly relaxing from the sudden relief of pain. 

“Oh,” he breathed, blond eyelashes fluttering against his pretty cheeks. “Oh, thank you. That’s … that’s much better.”

Not knowing where to touch him, Bucky tentatively patted the angel’s hair. “You’re welcome,” he said, eyes sliding down to the injured wing. There was a shard of metal wedged up between the secondary convert and marginal convert feathers, the blood that stained their white color indicating that whatever the object was, it’d likely pierced Steve in the humeral portion of his … his wing. 

Bucky licked his lips and moved his hands down Steve’s back, hovering, afraid to touch something so foreign. “Um, okay,” he hedged. “There’s some sort of shrapnel. I can see where it is, but I need to get a better look at the point of entry. Can you …” (Jesus, what the everloving fuck was he even doing?) “Um, can you move your wing at all?” He gingerly touched the coracoscapular joint, watching as Steve worked up the nerve to give a tentative movement. He hissed at the motion, but was able to slowly unfold his left wing out from his back. “Good,” Bucky praised, gloved hands gently guiding him. “Okay, easy. Good, right there. That’s good enough.”

Steve stopped moving, panting from the exertion, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow when he turned his head further to look at Bucky out of the corner of his eye. “How bad is it?”

“It’s not gonna be life threatening,” Bucky said after a moment of carefully moving the feathers out of the way to examine the site of penetration. “Unless you’ve got a major blood vessel in a place where birds don’t.” He inspected the injury, mentally cataloguing the supplies he was going to need to perform the extraction. “Okay,” he muttered under his breath, talking more to himself than he was to Steve. “Okay, yeah. I think this is gonna be okay. I think we can do this.”

“You can?”

Bucky’s attention shot back to Steve, who sounded very anxious. Bucky was abruptly reminded that unlike his regular patients, Steve was going to need a bit more reassurance than a simple belly rub or placating scritch behind the ear. “Yeah,” he promised, firming up his voice into something more confident and professional. “Yeah. Your anatomy is basically human, with avian anatomy in the places where I need to work."

“You operate on angels often?” Steve joked nervously.

“Nope. But I know birds, and it’s more a matter of basic principles than anything else,” Bucky reassured. “Don’t worry. I know what to do.” 

Steve exhaled in relief, and Bucky didn’t feel too guilty for making a promise he wasn’t a hundred percent confident on. “Kay,” he said, turning around to go gather what he’d need for the procedure. “We’re gonna do this under a local anesthetic, so you’ll be awake. Just give me a few minutes while I get ready.”

Masterlist

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[pluvillion]

serial killer - ghost x soap AU

the first time, it's an accident. the second time, it's a coincidence. the fifth time, it's a problem. the tenth time, it's an addiction. the thirteenth time, they're looking for him. the twentieth time, simon found johnny.

-

warning:

mentions of gore

blood

death

body horror

killing

stalking

kidnapping

-

note: some angst to fluff for y'all! this was, somewhat, inspired by Patrick Bateman. i really wanted to expand the theory of what ghost could do if he uses his abilities for something horrible (like he does in the games, but for a completely opposite motive).

i never realized how difficult it is to write two males in one sentence while making it cohesive on who's who. i hope i made it clear and there's no confusion.

-

the first time, it’s an accident.

simon underestimates his strength, the alcohol buzzing through his body, the recklessness of his actions — a crack as a skull smashes against a brick wall after a punch that was a little too well-placed, a body slumping onto the floor, limp and unmoving, eyes unseeing and staring back up at him.

he throws up and it’s not because of the mass consumption of alcohol that he drank earlier that night.

a body is left to rot in a dumpster to be discovered a few days later and a shaken boy wobbles back home - the instability of his steps half due to the alcohol and half due to shock.

it was just an accident.

────────────

the second time, it’s a coincidence.

a boy who pushed him too far - insulted him one too many times.

he was tired of being knocked down, falling to the floor, and staying there.

he doesn’t stop after the other boy is bloody and moaning beneath him; he doesn’t even register the thought of mercy as he continues to slam his fist on the other guy’s face.

his attacker stops moving - no more insults, not for a while now - and his knuckles are bruised and his lip is cut from a punch he didn’t dodge fast enough. his chest is heaving, panting heavily; trying to gather himself as he stands up again - chest shaking and his mop of blonde hair messier than usual.

it was just a coincidence that he lost control again, that he couldn’t curb the adrenaline rushing through his body after he threw his first punch… but this time, he didn’t have the alcohol buzzing through his veins to blame.

it’s just a coincidence.

however, he can’t deny he likes the blood that flecks his bruised hands and how the red is spotting his pale skin.

────────────

the fifth time, it’s a problem.

it’s not normal and it’s not natural to be doing what he did.

picking fights for a boy his age was normal - burying his opponents in the dead of the night was not.

he can’t help but look for trouble, to smile at the face of his next fighter - victim - and to get off the high of the blood that begins to taint his skin; the adrenaline that rushes through his own blood when he sees the other person fall.

his heart beats erratically while the others stop.

it’s a problem when he doesn’t feel any remorse when he doesn’t feel anything in general. when the only time he feels something remotely close to living is when he’s taking another’s life.

he packs up his bags and he moves from one play to another before suspicion arises; disappearing into the night whenever he sees fit, a lingering shadow, a dark smudge in the backend streets that people look over their shoulder twice when they’re walking by.

by the time he’s seen five pairs of eyes go dim, and five different blood types staining his skin, it’s a problem.

and he doesn’t want to find a solution.

────────────

the tenth time, it’s an addiction.

he can’t help but see the world in black, white, and red; in fragile skeleton bones, lifeless eyes, and red that gushes from the wounds he makes. it’s all he sees.

when he’s talking and observing, he doesn’t see the people; he sees their beautiful, fragile bodies... so easily broken... an art.

he finds that even if he beats them to a pulp or slices them into pieces, there’s a beauty in how the human body breaks; in the rivulets of blood cascading into a pool at his feet, bruises that bloom like verdanas at his touch, and the jagged splinter of bones as they broke beneath his hands.

boys and girls his age, men and women older than him - he finds it fascinating how they’re all the same on the inside.

but he makes them different, he makes them special. he paints them. he destroys them in different methods. he’s the one who elicits different melodies of pain, pleading, and tears from them.

they’re all just skin, bones, flesh, blood, and tears, but he makes them all a masterpiece. it’s an art and he’s the artist.

he can’t get enough of it.

────────────

the thirteenth time, they’re looking for him.

they start to realize that these bodies are being left behind by one person regardless of their various difference in the masterpieces he’s left them as.

a part of him is glad they’re noticing - in his twisted mind, they’re just admiring his work. they’re playing cat and mouse and he’s the monster who’s always three steps ahead. he’s already long gone by the time they find the bodies - he’s learning as he goes, he growing as he continues - in his art, in his craft in his skill —

in his madness.

────────────

the twentieth time, simon notices him.

maybe it was just the wrong place at the wrong time; perhaps he was out a little too late one night or perhaps he crossed paths in the early morning before school, but he noticed him and he couldn’t his eyes off of him.

he thought he was beautiful.

his mohawk neatly styled, his eyes glimmering as he read the book in his hands; how his steps skipped lightly when his favourite song came on shuffle, how his muscles flexed as he snuggled in his sweatshirt when a cool breeze blew by.

simon watched him intently and he couldn’t help but stare for a moment too long, to echo his footsteps behind him, a safe distance away.

he might’ve been beautiful to simon, but all he saw was the perfect canvas for his next masterpiece.

────────────

johnny never noticed him.

…or maybe he did - maybe he flashed a smile at him when he was at the library, or waiting in line at a store or a restaurant. maybe a brief thought of how there was a cute boy with messy blonde hair and a charming half-grin flitted through his mind for a fraction of a second, but his brain would be preoccupied with something else in a matter of moments and simon would soon dissolve from his thoughts.

he’d never notice how simon’s hazel eyes lingered on him for longer than normal, or how simon would be in the background of his day - waiting at the bus stop across the street from him or sitting in the far end of the restaurant or strolling through the park across from his school.

johnny was naive and simon was skilled. some might’ve said he was a hunter while he was his choice of prey.

but in simon’s eyes, he was merely the artist and johnny was his new canvas.

────────────

simon found johnny.

he found him behind his window one night, closing the curtains before turning off his lights.

he found him in his classroom, staring absentmindedly out the window as he twirled his pencil between his fingers.

he found him like he found the others before him; he found his name, his birthday, his schedule, and his address, and he found all there was to find about him.

but unlike the others, he found himself discovering how johnny had ten different laughs and eight different smiles - he finds them but they’re not for him, they’ll never be for him - and he found himself musing over johnny’s sparkling eyes watching the autumn leaves and he finds himself wondering how his name would sound with his voice.

he’s lonely and he’s cold but he can’t help but feel a little less alone when he’s with him, even if he’s not with him.

he calls johnny’s phone and he doesn’t say a word; just listens to his voice before he hangs up, thinking nothing of the blank call while all simon thinks of is him and his beautiful voice.

it doesn’t matter. simon will be able to make him say anything he wants him to say in no time, his eyes looking at him and only at him forever, glassy and empty but he could still paint a spark in them if he really wanted to.

johnny might have ten different laughs and eight different smiles, but simon’s dimpled grin - twisted and too sharp to be friendly - will be the last thing he’ll ever see, and simon will make sure of that.

────────────

simon steals johnny in the middle of the night.

johnny tries to scream but simon has his large hands over his mouth. he’s kicking and biting but he’s twice as tall with more muscle in one hand than he has in his whole body.

he goes kicking and screaming like all the others, but he can’t help but to hold him closer than he needed to, to hold johnny a little longer, to pretend he wasn’t squirming in his grasp, tears leaking from his eyes and dripping down to simon’s fingers that cupped his lips.

johnny’s scared and he can feel his heart seizing up and his mind racing because he has heard of people who went missing in the middle of the night and he has heard the police reports and he has heard the stories, but he never - not once - believe that one of those people could be - would be - him.

he forgets what to do; those stupid self-defence moves, those stupid assemblies that he half-listened to - all he remembers is his voice and his limbs and he screams even though no one can hear him and he swings his legs and arms even though it’s against simon’s iron grip and the tears are streaming down his eyes almost automatically he’s terrified.

he doesn’t know what going to happen to him, what simon will do to him - he knows how stories like this end and he didn’t want to be a body in a dumpster; a name that would be printed on a newspaper that would be thrown away, ripped, trashed, burned, in a few day’s time.

johnny didn’t want to die.

no, not like this. not when he had so many things left to do - get married, have kids, have his dream job - hell, he still had to take that stupid math test and he has never wanted to go back to school so badly.

he didn’t want to think about dying and his limbs being torn apart and his blood spilling onto the ground and he didn’t want to think about his parents crying at his funeral and he didn’t want to think about dying with anyone around him but some psycho, his last breath wasted.

his life wasted.

he’s in hysterics by the time simon’s forced him into the back of a truck, his hands and legs tied with a gag around his mouth and a blindfold over his eyes. he’s whimpering and crying and he can’t see a damn thing and all he can feel is the fear spiking into his system.

simon watches johnny crumble from the rearview mirror, shaking in his seat behind him.

he doesn’t feel remorse - no, he stopped feeling emotions like that a long time ago - but he can’t help but to think back to his laugh and compare them to the soft whimpers he’s making now.

something prickly settles in his skin. it’s a foreign feeling that he can’t decipher.

he tries brushing it away by revising the plan he had for him - he’d be his best work of art yet, and he’s spent nights poring over the plans he had made for him.

but a part of him can’t help but think that he was already a masterpiece on his own.

────────────

simon is quite fascinated with johnny.

he’s not sure what it is about him that makes him stare a little longer and wonder a little more. he’s dubious about what it is about this boy before him that makes him pause and question himself.

johnny is not like the others.

when simon holds his wrists - small and delicate and bound with rope - he can feel the bones that he’s snapped for so many people before him, but with johnny - with him, he feels something else.

his heartbeat.

and it’s not as if he hasn’t felt one before - he forgets he’s just skin and bones too - but there’s something about the pulse in johnny’s wrist, quick and pounding, that makes him caress his clenched fists.

johnny is whimpering and the tears are leaking through his blindfold and he’s shaking in his seat and simon does something he’s never done before…

he takes off his blindfold with gentle fingers. johnny finds himself staring into the brightest pair of hazel eyes he’s ever seen, close enough to see the flecks of gold in them despite the dim lighting of the room they were in.

his breath hitches at the sudden brightness and he hiccups, trembling.

simon takes a few steps back and a mop of blonde hair comes into his view, along with broad shoulders and toned muscular arms.

johnny is taken aback at how normal he looks - the plain t-shirt and black jeans, sculpted jawline and messy hair - he looks like someone he could’ve gone to school with. hell, he looks like someone who could’ve been his friend - maybe he would’ve even called him cute if he had seen him at a coffee shop or a library.

he couldn't deny that his features were attractive, but the twisted madness in his eyes both scared and repulsed him. he was normal-looking… perhaps that was the most terrifying part.

“w-what do you want?”

it’s a stupid question and johnny’s voice is shaking and he’s trembling and he doesn’t know if he wants to hear the answer.

simon turns away from him and he’s still trying to decipher what it is about this boy that makes him feel so… strange. he has to remember that it’s not a love story - wolves and lambs don’t fall in love and some humans are just monsters in disguise.

he has him here before him and he has his plans all mapped out in his mind, but something’s stopping him.

no, it’s not his wet cheeks, the panic in his voice, or the fear in his voice - it’s not remorse and it’s not pity; it’s most certainly feelings like compassion or guilt that he’s long forgotten.

simon doesn’t know where to start, or what to fix, because johnny’s already a masterpiece in his eyes.

his mohawk lying messily on his scalp, every smudged corner of tears, every wrinkle in his sweater, every scar, every blemish, every little uneven angle, and slope of his body - he’s already perfect despite the insanity in his eyes.

simon takes a step closer and johnny automatically recoils in his seat; inching as far away as possible from him. he didn’t want to be with this boy with demented eyes that were both so terrifying and captivating. he’s beautiful but he’s deadly and he’s dangerous and he’s his death with the most alluring hazel eyes.

he’s close enough for him to feel his breath on his lips and tears leak from his eyes almost instantaneously from fear.

simon’s lips quirk up unnaturally in what could’ve been a smile but it is too disjointed and pointed to be natural - like a cat attempting to smile like a human. a set of dimples appear on his cheeks and he’s taken aback by such an innocent feature - the boyish detail doesn’t match the lunacy in his eyes.

simon leans in close enough for the tips of his fringes to brush johnny’s forehead. his lips are almost on his when he speaks - his voice low and raspy.

“I think I’ll keep you, love.”

end.

[iibonniee]

Cherry Lip Gloss | Part 2

Pairing: Im Changkyun x Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: totally fucking angst, no fluff (i got rid of that and this mini series has none of that), mentions of drinking, semi stalking (?) author almost cried

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2.2k

Masterlist | Part One

Alcohol and a soft, crisp breeze.

Leather kept tan skin warm as the trees did another wave, allowing cool air to whisk away the once bearable air. Everything was silent besides the sound of water crashing on rocks. Not a single soul. Just silence and nature. Lips met the rim of the beer bottle; a long drag, then a mournful sigh. It had an addictive taste. To enjoy something so deadly will always come at an untimely cost.

Somber brown eyes met and enjoyed the view of the sun meeting the ocean. The sun seemed at peace, no matter what cycle it had gone through. He appeared at peace. He wished he was at peace. Rosy red cheeks had the cool breeze nipping away at him without much care. His vision blurred for only a moment, and he blinked away the threat of tears.

Inhale, hold it in, exhale. Don’t think about the consequences.

He didn’t. Instead, he listened to the same sound of the waves hitting the rocks while his mind continued on with the war he had wanted to desperately forget about. Life was never a kind thing. Not back then, and certainly not now. A man so broken is never meant to be fixed. All the pieces were lost where he once walked. Never to be recovered or fixed.

There was no way for him to collect them. To fix a hollow shell that was cracked beyond repair. A man who’s been through it all will certainly never see the bright side of it. Not him. It felt like his fate was set in stone. That this was the life he was meant to live. One so painful, yet the pain is never physical. His heart is the main victim in this story.

Don’t close your eyes. Never allow the tears to show. You’re stronger than that.

Strength. He was losing it. Each time the seconds met the minute and the minute met the hour, the feeling of growing weaker was welcomed. A quick swirl, brown eyes watched as the liquid swirled around in the bottle, soon growing still just seconds later.

Being envious is a nasty trait for anyone to have. How could a man be envious that the sky had the sun? That the moon had the stars? It was a question nobody could answer. It would only swarm around one’s mind until the day they took their last breath.

Stupid decisions come with stupid outcomes. Don’t think about it.

Does a heart realize how broken it is right away, or was there a waiting period? The sound of waves was just a mere distraction from heartbreak. Brown eyes once again blinked rapidly to avoid the onslaught of begging tears. A head shake, then a sigh.

End of the bottle, end of the road road. A path he walked down, but with every turn, he found it led to a steep drop to death. With a flick, the glass bottle flew almost in slow motion to the wet rocks below. Brown eyes watched closely as it bounced off one rock, then two, and landed. Unbroken and surviving.

How could one be envious that an object found a steady spot to land while the man with a beating heart felt like he was falling? Perfectly intact while his own beating heart was broken beyond repair. Large, shaky hands found a tired face to cover. Count to ten, and everything will be okay.

Blink the tears away. Don’t be a fool.

The heart knew what was happening. It was breaking while beating a steady and healthy beat. How does it hurt so much? Why does it hurt so much? He knew. But a brain so smart was attempting to save a heart from cracking anymore.

How many times does a heart have to beat to know when it will be okay? How many gasps of air are needed to feel like one is breathing properly?

Hell felt like a place on earth. Slowly waiting for one to accept that there was never a bright side. And god, was it ugly. An inescapable place. A suffering.

Accept what happened and move on. Living in the past will not allow you to move on.

Move on. It's such an easy thing to think about, but when one is faced with the task, it’s simply complicated. A task often unbearable and unbeaten. But time still ticked an ugly and nasty beat that he had wished would pause for a moment and allow him to take a break. How could he move on when it came down to feeling like the past was all he had?

A past with good memories. Memories that brought ease and not pain. An ear that would listen to a story that happened during the night was now an ear that would listen to another.

Breaks don’t happen. Learn to keep going.

But heartbreaks happen. Months, no, a year, and it was still the same. A constant cycle of rinse and repeat. Throw a smile, walk proudly, and don’t let them know. Smile. If they see, they’ll show pity, and pity is for the weak.

Love was always such a nasty thing. A pain that one could think about for a lifetime. That he would think about for a lifetime. Hands found warmth in the pockets of leather jackets in attempts to find something but came back with nothing. Not even enough money for another bottle.

Give yourself time. Take it slow. It will be okay.

A scoff, then a sarcastic laugh. Slow was never enough. Slow can never be enough. Taking it slowly only meant he would learn what it meant to break. Three times, only to be met with a wave. What went wrong? What did he do wrong? Why was he such a fool?

Don’t think about it. You’re damaging your heart more.

A blink, then eyelids decided to remain shut. For a mind not to think about hurting a heart more was a task in itself. A life that was meant to only experience nothing more, but pain and loss were what he would have to accept for himself.

His heart was aching, begging for anything, hoping to take the pain away. A shaky, pathetic breath came from him. A life where he could be happy was nowhere to be seen. Not even in one’s wildest dreams. He fucking hated having to pretend to be happy.

Your heart is in shambles. It’s broken beyond repair. She hurt you.

He shook his head. No. His mind wouldn’t shut up for even a moment. The growing aggravation was enough to drive a sane man mad. Teeth gritted together in an attempt to suppress an emotional scream. He couldn't bear anyone else hearing that.

A heart fighting with the mind. An ugly one that not even a voice from an angel could calm it down. This was hell. His heart was going through hell.

You hurt her. You didn’t mean to. You watched her leave.

Three times was too much but always felt like it was too little. There are too many chances to ruin something but too few to keep it going. A man so broken was undeserving of love. Love was never meant for someone like him.

Brown eyes watched as the waves soon grew closer to the water’s edge, of how the jealousy was real. He could leave. Never turn back. But why would he? Home was here. Home was where she could possibly return.

It’s okay. You’ll be okay. I promise.

Promise. Every person has heard that seven-letter word throughout their lives—more times than they can count. He’s heard it. It’s hard to believe anything would be okay when an outsider could see that his life was nothing more than a mess that could never be fixed.

Getting lost in a trance, his mind didn’t even realize the sun finally met the sky for a kiss goodbye. Stars now out, wishing everyone had a good day while the sun had said its goodbye no less than ten minutes ago.

Brown eyes were met with darkness, and eyelids greeted someone whenever they shut for more than a second. For a moment, silence was all that could be enjoyed. His heart was silent and steadily beating as his brain finally stopped arguing with his heart.

You can’t hide from your demons forever. It will be fine.

He couldn’t remember the walk to his car or the long drive back to the dorms. He knew the buzz from the alcohol had long since worn off with the sun's departure. All he knew was that he stood there almost awkwardly. How could one feel so unwelcome in a home that was their own?

“Changkyun.” He didn’t realize his eyes were closed momentarily, not even when he had been silently counting to ten to calm his unknown nerves. Eyes now opened in shock, they met with old but familiar eyes.

Count to ten if anything gets worse. You can't always hide from your demons, Changkyun.

His mouth opened and then shut. How does one feel like they’re suffering while the steady flow of oxygen flows through so easily without missing a single beat?

How could he feel so damn pathetic under their gaze? Why did he come inside? Why was he hyperventilating? And why did it feel like the world was against him constantly?

“I–” A stumbling idiot. His breath caught in his throat as he watched their worried eyes. Even as the days turned to months and the months finally met the year, he grew to hate how their eyes never hid the worry. “I’m fine.”

Lying always comes at a cost. You should know this.

“You’re not fine, Changkyun.” Hyunwoo was the first to speak up. Changkyun hated this. He hated the little interventions they threw at him. He was fine. He swears.

“Talk to us. Stop shutting us out.” It was Jooheon who spoke up next. The worry that laced their voices caused him to hate himself. If he wasn’t so addicted to the thing of the past, he wouldn’t be the cause of all their worries. He wouldn’t be the cause of all the tension and finger-pointing he knew they did behind his back.

“I just want to be alone.” His body was on autopilot. Quick strides took him to his room, where the door was locked, and the voices outside calling his name were blocked out. His phone was in his hands in seconds, and once again, on autopilot, he found himself searching for her name on Instagram. Thankful she hadn't blocked him.

The more you break your heart, the harder it is to repair it. Stop doing this to yourself.

He knew it was wrong. He knew it was wrong to ignore the pleas of the other members, but he also knew it was wrong to not give his heart a break. Shaky hands clicked on the first picture that popped up on her page. A beautiful diamond ring, her nails done to perfection, and a caption that eagerly said, “I said yes! I can’t wait to take your last name.”

And god did that fucking hurt.

Tears rushed to brim his eyes like a broken dam. His usual choked sob that he tried to silence wouldn’t fall for the command this time. It bounced off the four walls, back into his ears, and under the door's crack.

You’re breaking your own heart. You can be happy with someone else. Stop doing this to yourself.

He was a fool. How many times must he beat himself up and apologize for her to know he’s being honest? Must he rip his heart out to show her how broken it is? Must he break down in front of an audience and sing her name out just to get her back?

He hated this unknown man. He hated how his thoughts were quick to act and go against him. He shouldn’t be in her life. He was an imposter. Unimportant to the story, to their story.

He treats her well, I bet. Holds her tight at night. He surely wouldn’t do what you did.

“Stop it.” Changkyun’s choked-out sob was louder than before. “Stop working against me. Please.”

His pleas fell on deaf ears. He knew his heart was in a war with his brain. One would surely fall victim to either love or hate eventually.

Stop making stupid decisions you know your heart won’t be able to repair. Don’t call her.

He knew his heart was already a broken vessel that couldn’t be repaired anymore. Shaky fingers and blurred eyes quickly dialed the number the other members kept deleting.

One ring turned into two, two into three, then, ���Hello?”

He knew this was wrong. It was so fucking wrong. It was wrong to call, and it was unfair she picked up.

“Changkyun?”

His world stopped, and his breath caught in his throat as he heard her say his name oh so softly. The tears couldn’t be stopped. He was choking on the sob that couldn’t previously escape, and he worried it would scare her off.

What was he to say? His previous attempts at begging her to come back always quickly fell on deaf ears. How could he do this to himself? Why would he do this to himself?

Because you’re a fool in love, Changkyun.

[emlovesredbull]

the main 4 as teenagers

or how i imagine them at least....

stan marsh

-tried to stay away from weed to avoid being like randy (it doesn't work)

-he's not addicted, he just has easy access to weed and likes the feeling it gives him

-massive alcoholic

-he doesn't enjoy going to parties, but there's free alcohol there so he usually takes a stash to the bathroom or a more private area to be alone

-smokes with kenny behind the school when he gets bored with class

-dyed his hair blonde after his dad called stan his mini-me

-has really shaggy bangs, but his hair is weirdly soft (he accidentally used shelley's shampoo one time and now he can't stop)

-mostly c's with a few b's

-always listening to music during class and then proceeds to complain about never knowing what's going on

-the quarterback of the football team and actually very good at it???

-pretty tall, about 6'1

-has a notebook filled with song ideas, but never records/performs the songs he writes

-drives a slightly beat up ford bronco

-wears a lot of baggy clothes, especially sweatshirts

-has a VERY bad depression room (lowkey me too)

-coaches kid's football over the summer for extra cash

kyle

-very smart, 4.0 gpa (he won't rub it in your face though)

-amazing at basketball but underestimates himself and gets very bad anxiety every single tryout season

-slight germophobe

-pretty clean person, likes a tidy room, but whenever he gets busy it gets a little messy sometimes

-tallest of the friendgroup, 6'4, but nobody knows where it came from because both of his parents are super short

-very bad at all of the videogames and always comes last when the boys play

-doesn't smoke, but he drinks occasionally

-not a party boy, he'd much rather stay in, but sometimes kenny and stan drag him to functions

-he stands by the snack table and somehow always ends up helping a really drunk person

-gained better anger management strategies, but it's still fairly easy to make him tick

-drives a white subaru legacy

-sheila makes sure he always looks presentable, so he wears a lot of sweaters and jeans

-he still wears a hat to cover up his curls

-took up guitar a couple years after his guitar hero phase, but it usually sits in the corner untouched

-cancels plans a lot because sheila makes him pick up ike

kenny

-shows up to everything high (asked randy how to grow weed and started a little garden in his backyard)

-mostly c's with a few d's s

-usually leaves in the middle of the school day to go work one of his jobs

-pulls up to random snapchat functions with stan (and kyle)

-is the drummer in a band

-has very shaggy and somewhat long hair

-has a reputation as a playboy

-karen is always painting his nails different colors

-drives a beat-up truck he found in the junkyard (kevin helped him hotwire it)

-secretly really enjoys romcoms

-also enjoys the playboy magazines he sells to the middle school boys

-has been kicked out of target 34 times

-his clothes are kind of old and torn, so he adopted a grunge style so it looked natural

-treats girls surprisingly good because of his experience with his little sister

-speaking of karen, he saves a little bit of every paycheck to buy her something special

-spends the night in his car (with karen ofc) sometimes after his parents fight

-is 5'11

cartman

-worked at kfc but got fired for eating the skin off of people's chicken and then serving it to them

-throws parties sometimes and people only go to them to trash his house

-surprisingly gets straight a's

-varsity bench rider for football, but by the way he brags about it you'd think he's starting (he's a linebacker btw)

-genuinely believes he has abs (he does not, and the girls would like him to put his shirt back on)

-is famous on twitch, youtube and twitter for his gameplay and commentary (he's like a teenage boy trisha paytas)

-has the ice cream tiktok boy hairstyle and thinks it makes him look cool

-is like 5'8

-has a very basic style, and pretty much only wears nike

-runs an anonymous advice tiktok account and gaslights people into believing his bad advice

-drives a red convertible he BEGGED liane for

-doesn't really smoke, but he likes vaping and alcohol

-listens to edm music and everyone else despises it

-pretended to be a serial killer one time because he thought it was funny

-the teachers hate him because he's super loud and disruptive in their classes, but he's super smart effortlessly

-doesn't use deodorant

-or shower multiple times in a week

-his hair is very greasy

-definitely has a discord kitten because none of the girls at school like him

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

I love seeing Isaac suffer >:)))

I was wondering what is your headcanon for Isaac being extremely depressed or heartbroken?

...huh.

He really can't catch a break, yeah?

⚠️ Warning: PTSD, mention of self-harm, depression, loss of loved ones, alcohol abuse, angst.

Of all the guardians to watch over orphaned children, little Isaac got a real piece of trash. A man that by nature did not like children, beating those weaker than themselves, including little Isaac... And the stupid adults thought that person was the perfect person to be Isaac's mentor? Isaac would rather run the streets of Castle Village as an orphan than with such a guardian...

Self-harm was not new to Isaac. More often than not, Alesia caught the still young Isaac with bloody fists near the training dummy. The young adventurer, who had suffered another loss, was hitting the dummy, hitting and hitting so hard that he had to be dragged away by force and taken to a healer. The scratches on his hands were nothing compared to the self-hatred he felt for his weakness, for his inability to protect himself and others.

His facial scar is direct evidence that Isaac has been to Hell and survived. Which very likely left him with PTSD in addition to a disfigured face. The nightmares and flashbacks of that moment could show up at the worst possible moment, tormenting him now that he's alone.

There were problems with addiction, addiction to another bottle of wine or beer. How else could Isaac dull the pain if not at the bottom of a bottle? Good thing his coworkers didn't let him get himself into a very bad state.

He's lost a lot of people. Lost his parents, his first love, his friends, his coworkers... All of them. Isaac had lost many close people in this cursed desert, because of this monsters, and now he had already stopped getting attached to anyone. It's much easier that way. After all, Isaac's heart wouldn't be torn into hundreds of pieces if the person who was taken away by the Crimson Baldlans again wasn't someone close to him, right...? Isaac knows it's all bullshit and he's fooling himself.

[fritextramole]

you say "when we're married" 'cause you're not bitter

part 4 of a Serena van der Woodsen playlist - best heard in order

tracklist and quotes under the cut

Light up the Night ~ Jamie Berry, Robert Edwards, Andrew Griffiths, Octavia Rose

Don't you see? We could light up the night You and me, we could be such a sight

I’m On Fire ~ Chromatics

Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby Edgy and dull and cut a six-inch valley Through the middle of my soul

Take Me on the Floor ~ The Veronicas

You captivated me, something about you's got me I was lonely now you make me feel alive Will you be mine tonight

Malibu ~ Trixie Mattel

Came around for a one night thing and I never left Got a key to your old front door You can keep me in the bedside drawer And when you want you can slide me out again

Shotgun ~ Soccer Mommy

Look at your blue eyes like the stars Stuck in the headlights of a car You know I'll take you as you are As long as you do me

All Dolled Up ~ The Orion Experience

Breaking the rules as I sway and swirl Shining like a diamond in glitter and pearl So let's go out on the town Light a fire, burn it down

Kisse Misse ~ Annella

His kiss, addictive like sugar Supposed to only be my rebound He turned out to be the man

Love You Madly ~ CAKE

I don't want to fake it I just want to make it The ornaments look pretty But they're pulling down the branches of the tree I don't want to think about it

Love! ~ Swingrowers

But I've lost control of my game Feeling my senses fading Smiling with tears in my eyes

Girlfriend ~ Icona Pop

Talking bout the lights, the dirt, the shit, that hurts We're not gonna turn around We're doing this for good, for worse The gift, the curse, we're not gonna back down

I Love You Like An Alcoholic ~ The Taxpayers

I need you like I need a gaping head wound One last kiss, I love you like an alcoholic One last kiss, I love you like a négligée

Blowing Up My Mind ~ The Exciters

It's like sitting' in an oven after turning on the gas And then lighting up a cigarette, now how can I last? I said it's blowing up my mind

Pumpkin Soup ~ Kate Nash

Are we not, are we together Will this make our lives much better I'm not in love I just wanna be touched

Deceptacon ~ Le Tigre

You're cool and I hardly wanna say "not" Because I'm so bored that I'd be entertained Even by a stupid floor, a linoleum floor, linoleum floor Your lyrics are dumb like a linoleum floor I'll walk on it, I'll walk all over you

It’s Only Sex ~ Car Seat Headrest

Baby, my body Constantly betrays me I try to betray it I only hurt myself It's only sex

STFU! ~ Rina Sawayama

Patience, overrated If you want it, come and get it The feeling, need to mention Rips me open, rips me open I'm not being naturally negative, no I don't wanna be that girl again, 'cause I've been done and been through more friends

Someone ~ Anna of the North

I am looking for another lover I need someone who understands me Two drinks down Something in the water, baby

Vixen ~ Destroy Boys

Forbidden, untouchable Trouble waits for a victim I wouldn't mind being yours

Trouble ~ Annella

I'm busted, arrested So guilty, you got me There's no excuse for me

You Know I’m No Good ~ Amy Winehouse

I cheated myself Like I knew I would I told you I was trouble You know that I'm no good

Better By Myself ~ Hey Violet

When you choose to terrorize me And your confidence inside me dies You suffocate me with the things you say

Getaway Car ~ Taylor Swift

Don't pretend it's such a mystery Think about the place where you first met me Ridin' in a getaway car There were sirens in the beat of your heart

The Night ~ Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons

You might like your ivory tower But the night begins to turn your head around And you know you're gonna lose more than you found

Personal ~ Rebecca Black

Possessive turned to passive in the middle of the night Now in your vision, I'm the villain you can't look me in the eyes I watched your jealousy turn my sincerity Into dishonesty, but I'll be the bigger person, babe

Breakup Mashup ~ Pomplamoose, dodie

We started out friends It was cool, but it was all pretend Yeah, yeah, (yeah, yeah) Since you been gone (I'm so fuckin' grateful for my ex)

[colemonroe]

MONROE FAMILY.

The Monroe family had been in Tonopah Valley for a generation or two by the time Allen Monroe and his new bride, Elaine, decided to create a branch of their own. It didn't come easy– nothing in their bloodline ever would, but they tried, nevertheless. He was a miner and she was a seamstress, and both of them just wanted to make ends meet in a world that wouldn’t have cared less if they faltered. Against all odds, in 1964, the couple bore a son, Michael (Brad Pitt FC), who lived up to his namesake, whether he knew it or not. Naturally, becoming a founding member of an outlaw motorcycle club wasn’t exactly how Allen and Elaine saw Michael living up to the name in the biblical sense, but he’d later live up to it all the same in being a great captain, a leader and a warrior for those around him.

Two years later, Allen and Elaine had a daughter, Diana (Kate Winslet FC), who was just as wild and spirited as her brother, Michael, but had a penchant for trouble that taunted her at every turn. She was unbridled and chaotic with a thirst for life that rivaled anyone in her family who’d come before her. She just wanted to live, and to do so freely. And she did– without an apology.

It was a trend that saw to Diana’s downfall many years later, but in the interim, Allen and Elaine had one more son– a son that came five years after Diana’s birth. His name was Ronald (not pictured)– Ronnie, for short, and if Diana thought she chased life at its fullest, Ronnie had her beat…at least up until he was five years old and fell victim to encephalitis– a disease that saw him fully incapacitated until he passed five years later, aged ten. His passing broke the Monroe family. It threw Allen headfirst into an addiction to alcohol, one that saw him shove away anything and anyone who’d ever mattered. Elaine wasn’t much better. But Michael and Diana marched to the beat of their own drum, much like they always had. Michael was sixteen when he first met Laura Parker (Diane Lane FC), the daughter of a notable horse trainer who had moved to Tonopah in pursuit of something more, much like everyone else who took to the small Nevada town. While it was uncertain if Laura’s father had ever found what he was looking for, there was no dispute that Laura certainly had. She fell for small-time mechanic Michael Monroe in half a heartbeat, and stood by him in the years that he devoted his life to the United States Army. Upon his return from deployment, the two married, and Michael went on to help found the Sons of Silence Motorcycle Club with those closest to him, and with Laura as his old lady.

Meanwhile, Diana had become a popular entertainer in Tonopah. She had a voice that even angels envied and a sort of a charisma most only ever dreamed about. Despite the drugs she leaned on at any given chance, Diana had a real shot and could’ve made it. But– she fell for Jeffrey Decker, a notable businessman and an it man if there ever was one in Tonopah Valley. It didn’t matter that he was married– he’d fallen for the Marilyn Monroe act that she’d captured and catapulted to new heights at Tonopah’s gentleman’s club at the time. She’d won him over, or so she’d thought– a positive pregnancy test a few months into that affair had a way of turning the tide and suddenly, a woman who’d thought she’d been winning had suddenly become the enemy to a man who couldn’t stand the thought of losing. And a bastard son? It was losing in every sense of the word. After a flurry of threats, Diana refused to abort the baby who’d been the end result of that one-sided love affair and she relocated to Knoxville, Tennessee, in a desperate bid to start over and have her baby in peace.

But plans seldom work out the way they’re wired. 

Diana did give birth to her son– Cole Michael Monroe, but he was born tweaking on the drugs in her system and barely survived delivery. Consequently, he underwent a number of surgeries at birth just to ensure his survival. But, he survived and then the real battle started. 

Diana Monroe passed away at age thirty-four following an overdose on heroin and painkillers. Her son, Cole, found her, and was sent to live with his uncle, Michael, and his wife, Laura, in Tonopah Valley. The two of them, unable to have children of their own, cared for him and nurtured him as though he was their own Son.

Michael Monroe passed away at age fifty after a former Los Santos Teniente shot him to death in a driveby– a debt that’s since been repaid by none other than his nephew.

Laura Monroe is still living and is a notable jeweler in Tonopah Valley. She is still a prominent presence in the Sons of Silence clubhouse. Despite everything, the Sons are her family and now that her nephew has taken up the gavel, she’s even more involved, if nothing more than just to cheer him, a mirror image of her Michael, on.

And then there’s Cole–

–That story is still being written.

[romanarose]

About a Girl: Chapter 9

Beautiful header by my beloved @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Joel Miller x Trans!Fem!Reader (Nickname, Blue)

Series Masterlist : The Last of Us Masterlist : Full Masterlist

Summary: Blue sets up her future in Joel's life, step by step by step

Warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter: 18+ ONLY!! I cannot warn against everything, but these are major themes. Joel is a lil ignorant but not out of hate. He just doesn't know. He's trying his best. There will be smut. Penetrative sex, all of the anal play, oral. There will be transphobia from other people. Addiction and alcoholism. QUICK child neglect not by Joel but I promise, Sarah is fine and is having a great time in life. Fetishization of women attracted to women by a shitty guy. Will update as needed. Again, this is adult content. Expect adult content.

Immersivity: Reader is transgender, AMAB female, reader has had gotten bottom surgery, not top, and is on hormones. reader has visible hair and a blue streak in hair, but not described. Could be braids, could be natural hair, whatever. Header is for aesthetics only. Reader is about Joel and Tommy's height. Let me know if i miss anything!

TAGS HAVE BEEN SHITTY make sure you're caught up!!

TRANS LIVES MATTER! TRANS YOUTH MATTER! TRANS ELDERLY MATTER! TRANS WOMEN MATTER! TRANS MEN MATTER! NON BINARY TRANS MATTER!

Step one: Kayla.

You knew showing up to Kayla’s front door was a bit of a risk, but for Joel, you’d do anything. When she opened the door to see you, her eyes went wide and immediately she trid to shut you out, but you stuck your steel toed boots in before it hit the doorframe.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, Kayla. You are stay’n the fuck away from Joel.”

She narrowed her eyes at you. “Thought he dumped your ass.”

“Yeah, because of you and his dumbass brother, but we worked it out.” After the day you lost your job, Joel came over a few times that week to check on you. That turned into helping you pack, which turned into him volunteering his truck and himself to move you to Tess’s place that was now going to be packed with the most rag-tag group of misfits you’d ever seen. Tommy was part of step 2. After spending time together again and Tommy wasn’t his sole responsibility anymore, you and Joel fell into each other again. And he fell into you again. And again. And again. Joel was yours and you were his, and you were making sure it stayed that way now. This had been carefully discussed with him, but there was no way you were sending your sweet, passive boyfriend to his abusive ex to lay out the boundaries.

You continued. “You can see Sarah, but like he said, ONLY under direct supervision. You will only contact him about that. If you show up unplanned around him, or harass or threaten him, me, Tommy, Tess, Sarah, hell, even Talia for whatever reason, we will be filing a restraining order. Tommy and Tess have eyewitness accounts of how you treated him, and honey.” You glare at her, using your height to intimidate. “He told me what you did to him. The hitting, the sexual coercion. You’re lucky he asked me not to, because I’d beat your ass.”

Kayla looked like she wanted to say something, to spit something back but thought better of it. “I’m not jumping through hoops just to see my daughter.”

Settling your feathers a bit, you step back. “That’s just it, isn’t it? You won’t jump through hoops for her. But Joel would. I would. Joel would fight tooth and nail for Sarah, but you know what? You’re the one missing out, because she’s a special kid. She’s kindhearted, funny, smart, and I get to see her almost every day.” Kayla scoffs, but you prod deeper. “Did you ever want her? Or was she just a prop to try and get Joel.”

“You have no right to ask me that-”

“I did anyway.”

“She’ll never love you.” Kayla stood up straighter. “It’s bad enough Joel chose a man in a dress above a real woman, but she’s going to hate you for what you are.”

She was trying to cut you deep, to hurt you are harshly as she possibly could. But that wasn’t going to work on you. You weren’t a child, you were secure in yourself, your femininity and the live in your little family. “No, she won’t.” You say with confidence. “Because she’s a good kid. Because I’m gonna be there for her like you never were. The world is changing, Kayla, and you should probably catch up. I’ll see you if you wanna come get Sarah.” With that, you turned on the heel of your black boot and walked to your car.

Step two: Tommy

“Hey baby.” Joel greeted you with a smile and a chaste kiss, Sarah trailing behind him. “Hey guys.”

Everyone greeted Joel, Talia asking Sarah if she wanted to go to the hottub Tess installed in her house. Sarah was enthralled, announcing she already had her swimsuit on under her winter clothes. Spring in Texas wasn’t bad at all, but the idea of getting water at this time of year was exciting to say the least to a 5 year old. 

Talia’s offer was intentional, planned. Tommy told Joel he needed to talk, and he needed Blue and Tess with him.

When they were all sat down, coffee in hand, Joel started.

“What’s go’n on, Tommy? Ya make’n me nervous. You okay?”

As nervous as Joel is, Tommy’s leg jitters until Tess places a reassuring hand on him. “It’s okay. You know he ain’t gonna freak out.”

That only served to make Joel more nervous. “Freak out about what?”

“It’s not a big deal Joel, I promise.”

He turned to you. “You know?”

Poor guy looked so worried. Despite the bickering, he loved Tommy so fuckin much. “I do, but please don’t be mad. It’s not something I was at liberty to say.” You turn to the younger brother. “Tom, honey, you’re freaking him out.”

Tommy nodded, taking in a deep breath before blurting out, “IM GAY.”

Eyebrows furrowing together, Joel looks confused for a moment. “No you aren’t.”

“JOEL!” You and Tess shout, chiding him for his reaction, but Joel is quick to defend.

“Shit! Sorry! I just mean, You like women, you’d always liked women. I’m sorry, fucking hell, I’m bad at this.” He scrubs his face, dagging wrinkled skin down with his fingertips. “Okay, I guess first, I love you, ‘M always gonna love you, and I obviously don’t care about that, almost everyone I know right now is gay or trans so-”

“But it’s different with your brother, isn’t it?” Tommy asked with a worried expression, leg jiggling again.

Joel shook his head. “No, of course not. I want you to be happy. Is this why… well, why you’ve been doing so much drugs and drink’n?

Tommy roled his eyes. “It’s not that-” But stopped himself when Tess elbowed him. Downplaying the incident with Sarah would re-ignite the tension. He sighs. “I guess that’s part of it. I’m um… checking into rehab at the veterans center next week. Got a room. I haven't been honest with any of ya’ll, but I ain’t been sober.”

Tommy told you this when he mentioned wanting you and Tess’s support talking to Joel, but Joel had suspected. Joel was used to Tommy lying about sobriety. 

Nodding, Joel squeezes your hand. “Okay, I’m glad your getting help. Let me know all the info and I’ll take you, be there with Sarah and Ellie for all the visits, all that shit. You talked to Bill yet?”

He shakes his head. “Not yet. Kinda nervous, yuh know? Don’t wanna disappoint him.”

“You won’t” Joel assures. “Frank is who mentioned PTSD to me first, so I think they’ll just be glad you're getting help.”

But Tommy just groaned, burying his head in his hands. Joel’s hand disengages from you and goes to hug Tommy. Standing in the living room, Joel holds his baby brother close as he cries. “I love you, Tommy. I don’t care if you’re gay or whatever else you got go’n on, you're still my brother, and my best friend. I’m proud of you.”

Step three: Ellie

“Do we have everything?!?!?” Joel was running around the house, anxious. Everyone was here. Tommy, a few days before checking into rehab, Tess and Talia who were, in fact, engaged, Frank and Bill (Max was absolutely not invited to this one.)

“Baby, everything is perfect.” You assure Joel. Ellie was coming with next to nothing for personal items. She had a few things, but one item from her mom was a jackknife she obviously couldn’t have at 5 years old. She had a dinosaur stuffie, a picture of her and her mom, a dinosaur book… she had a thing for dinosaurs.

Joel picked Sarah up from day care a few months ago, only to find her sobbing. Her teacher was trying to get her to say what’s wrong, but she kept saying it was a secret, she couldn’t tell anyone. When Joel came, he was naturally very concerned, especially given that he knew Kayla had been letting strange men around her. When he convinced her that she doesn’t need to keep secrets from him, that he would take care of her no matter what, he was surprised to learn it wasn’t her secret. It was Ellies.

Ellie had showed Sarah the bruises on her from her foster parents. Calling Ellie over, the teacher checked, and yes, she had bruises on her pale skin. Joel sat with a crying Ellie and sniffling Sarah while the teacher made the call. The next few hours were long. Ellie’s foster dad came to pick her up before the police arrived, and from what you heard there was a little bit of a confrontation. Joel wasn’t violent of course, as much as he might have wanted to be there were children around. However, he did not let him get near Ellie. 

After giving his statements to the police, calling you and Tommy in to relay what you knew, the social worker approached him.

Ellie was up for adoption. Dad is completely out of the picture, never knew who he was. Mom is dead. No one had adopted her yet because of her behavioral issues and said she kept wanting Joel the whole process of interviews. Joel asked if he could be in the room with her with the polic officer, but they wouldn’t let him. She was, of course, being removed immediately from the foster family and being placed in a girls home, and the social worker broached the idea if Joel had ever considered being a foster parent.

He hadn’t, you knew. Sarah kept him busy. But you also knew that when she asked him, he knew what he wanted to do. He just had to ask Sarah.

“I just feel like I’m missing something!” He was very stressed. You took him by the shoulders, steadying him.

“Joel, sweetie. Listen. You got everything a 5 year old could need. A bed.” Bill built a bed for her to sleep in in Sarah’s room. “You got clothes.” Tess and Talia went on a shopping spree, keeping in mind how Ellie’s tastes differed from Sarah, but also getting dresses and girlie shit incase she wanted that too. “Lots of books and toys.” Tommy had gotten her toys, while Frankie went for books and more enriching games and activities. “And lots of fun times planned to make her feel at home and loved.” Your funds were a little low. You’d managed to find a daycare job to get by until you could start teaching in a neighboring district next fall, but that was minimum wage. Still, you wanted to welcome her home. You’d made the cake and snacks for the small welcoming party, but you’d also managed to get tickets to the planetarium for the four of you.

Normally a gathering like this wasn’t recommended for a foster situation, but Ellie was different. Ellie knew they were planning to adopt her, Ellie knew Joel and Sarah and Tommy. Sarah and Ellie were ecstatic to be sisters. Joel and Sarah had been able to visit the girls home occasionally under supervision as the foster paperwork was processing since they’d expressed desire to adopt, and Ellie had continued to attend kindergarten where Joel made sure to always come a little early to spend time with her and talk to her teacher about her needs and progress the same he did with Sarah. 

The reason he couldn’t say yes that day was because of Sarah. Between the turmoil with Kayla, you bein gone and coming back, Tommy moving out, he didn’t want to make this choice without her permission. Sarah said yes to fostering and adopting right away. The situation was a bit complicated but the plan was: Joel fosters Ellie, Joel adopts Ellie, Joel marries you, you adopt Ellie. Kayla hadn’t been heard of in months, and hadn’t seen Ellie for months before that. You would, of course, help Sarah and Kayla foster a relationship if Kayla showed promise of change, but they weren’t counting on it. If Kayla relinquished parental rights, you would adopt her too. Your little family.

A knock on the door. Ellie was here.

Im back from vegas!!!!

I had so much fun ;-; manages to not spent too much money either by just chilling at the hotel pool for several hours. I was just facedown on the innertube a chunk of time, occasionally paddling so they didnt think i was dead XD

I know Im late on my own pride event. embaressing. Clown behavior. If ya'll have submissions you wanna make you can keep making them until i post the masterlist haha

I need the epiloge and i kinda wannt write t4t transman santi and transfem reader. Thats for you, Fen!

ANYWAY

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[blade-liger-4ever]

About the X-Men's Place in Marvel

So I saw a post or two about how people say you have to read/watch the X-Men as if they were a separate entity from the wider Marvel Universe. These posts also brought up how it "doesn't make sense" to have the mutants discriminated and hunted by the powers that be in every telling of the story.

I have some solutions to that - all of which won't be accepted by the companies in charge of Marvel/the X-Men for some years.

Step 1: Establish that mutant discrimination is rampant primarily/only in the cities.

Have snippets throughout the Marvel Universe where the big cities like NYC, Chicago, Seattle, and all those types have various reports demanding laws against mutants, or restrictions placed upon mutants solely because they're "inherently violent", or "studies show mutants are naturally volatile and a danger to society", or what have you. Furthermore, with how these cities are renowned for broken families, domestic abuse, and high crime rates, the likelihood of a mutant kid falling in with a gang or other bad apples is through the roof. They'd be proving these narratives right, as well as fueling the "studies" done by those in power in the cities.

The reason you could and should do this with the X-Men is how mutants, as the "next step of humanity", prove the notion of transgender to be folly by their sheer existence. Follow the science, gender is a construct, etc, right? Well then, why were these kids born with powers and not the other half over here? Logically, some biological factor is at play.

But that means the "experts" would have to acknowledge biology as fact. So, to keep up the smokescreen of "there is no definition of a woman", they'd have to throw the mutants under the bus and label them as an aberration in the gene pool. Heck, you could go to town with Trask if you went that route.

Step 2: Have the rural parts of America at most wary of mutants, and indifferent at least.

Anyone who has lived in the American South or even the Midwest knows that you've got all manner of people there: whites, blacks, Indians, Asians, mixed race - the list goes on. Those same people also all tend to be part of a community that sees past the skin color and accepts them as family, so long as the individual - regardless of race - is an upstanding citizen and doesn't have a severe criminal record (i.e. hasn't raped or abused others). However, while it's a welcoming environment and open to all manner of community activities, these locations are still full of abuse victims, drug dealings, and trafficking.

So, when mutants are discovered in the South or Midwest, the parents and others in the community have to make sure that Johnny across the street isn't a mutant because 1 his father is an alcoholic who beats him, 2 his mother is a drug addict and has been in jail so long no one remembers what she looks like, and 3 he's a known delinquent. If he has powers, who's to say he won't use that to take his anger and pain out on the town? And then there's little Suzy down by the courthouse. She's got loving parents, good family and friends, but can be pretty arrogant. If she gets or already has powers, what's to stop her from trying to go out and be a hero? Or worse, if she picks a fight with the wrong guy, will she be used as another example of "the Mutant Menace"? And my own kids, they're bein' taught right, but what if they get the same idea if they turn out to be mutants? Or what if they have a temper tantrum, and the cops come and take them away?

There's a lot more to think about when you put mutants in that perspective, now isn't there?

Step 3: Have there be a clear line between anti-mutant sentiment and pro-mutant sentiment.

Think of the pro-life and pro-abortion policies for a moment. We all know there's two sides, one saying "life doesn't begin until X time" (pun not intended), and the other saying "life begins at the moment of conception."

Now, throw mutants into the mix.

Imagine a woman who has been raped. She's traumatized, and aware that she's now pregnant with her rapist's child. Add on to the factors of her life - single, full or part-time job, on her own in a city - and not only would the doctors tell her to abort the child, but add, "Besides, what if it's a mutant? You're already at risk, and studies show how dangerous and erratic mutants are. If you don't abort the child, you'll be at risk just as much as your neighbors."

That could be a separate plot line entirely on its own in the Marvel Universe. Imagine the X-Men fighting not just for mutant rights, acceptance, etc, but for the ones without a voice. You could get so much more out of that, and everyone is sleeping on the potential!

Conclusion

There are many routes to show that the X-Men can coexist not only in the wider Marvel Universe, but doing so without making them metaphors for the gay and trans community. Doing that to the X-Men is an insult to not just the characters and the morals they uphold, but to Stan Lee himself. Many times he said that the X-Men were not representative of that community; the only reason that lens was applied to them was because of the perverted Chris Claremont, who wanted everyone gay, and only because of Jim Shooter did we not have guys kissing each other - or girls kissing each other - for a couple of decades.

I know this will get me much hate, but I don't think I care at this point. I love the X-Men, I love the morals for which they stand/stood, and I love the stories that have been and could be told with them. And I'm tired of seeing everyone demand they be gay, or be in a separate universe from the now streamlined Marvel characters.

Please, just think about the true, good elements of a story you could tell with them, without taking them away from the rest of the Marvel cast.