#when you find out the person who emotionally abused you and your husband for years is facing truly difficult times right now...

[sadaveniren]

.

[thatfreshi]

can i request the reader has an emotionally abusive parent and astarion finds out and protects and comforts her?

TW - Emotional abuse, gaslighting, domestic violence

Recommended Song: The Archer - Adam Melchor

After settling down in Baldur's Gate again, you and Astarion have been slowly trying to fit back into the city. It's hard though, after such a long adventure, after trauma and perilous feats, to just be a person. You've reached out to a couple of old friends, trying your best to explain everything without revealing too much, especially without Astarion jokingly baring his fangs and saying "Be warned, I bite." The dumbass seems to think reverse psychology works on everyone.

So word slowly gets out that you're back in town. People that you knew forever ago suddenly stop by the house, and each time Astarion has to double-check that you know them, paranoid about people coming into the home you've built for the two of you. You don't blame him one bit.

It's a Summer afternoon, and you've just come in from tending your little backyard garden. Astarion calls out to you as you come in the back door.

"Darling, there's yet another person here to see you."

He gets a little overwhelmed by all these people wanting to come see you, but he tries his best to be supportive.

"Alright, coming."

You take off your gloves and hang them up by the door, making your way to the front of the house.

"Who is it?"

"Not sure, she wouldn't say."

He opens the door, and a shiver runs down your spine. Your mother.

"Oh, it's so good to see you Tav."

She lunges for an embrace before you can step away, your body is in shock. 'Why is she here?' 'How did she find out?' 'Who could've possibly told her you were back in town?'

"And who is this handsome man?"

Astarion realizes you're a little stunned, and he takes over the conversation for you.

"Astarion, and who might you be?"

"Well I'm Tav's mother of course! I'm sure she's told you all about me." He words are lined with spite, poison dripping out of her mouth. Your vampiric lover senses the tension, and yet you quickly switch tones.

"Come on in mother, we can show you around."

A fake smile, a facade. He's taught you well how to hide your intent, especially in peril.

"Yes, of course."

His voice trails off, wondering what you're up to. You simply start a tour of the house, acting like you would with any old friend.

"So obviously here's the little living space. I'd like to have some more plants in here, but somebody has to have a place to store all his books."

You try to shoot him a playful look, but when you meet eyes both of you know it's wrong. You chuckle a little too late, almost robotically.

"Ah yes, Tav here used to read all the time as a little one. Read all those silly little adventure books, even wanted to go on one."

"Yes, but-"

"BUT, instead we kept our lovely little offspring around to help with the business for a while, convinced Tav it was best to help the family."

Something triggered in Astarion's brain, the way she said family.

"Yes, of course mother. It was the right thing to do after all."

He realizes you never spoke about your parents, or about any of your family members for that matter. You've always spoken so freely, without a care in the world. Suddenly you were stiff, conforming to a conversation that you had no control over.

"Well, everyone must leave the nest eventually."

He smiles, trying to relieve the tension, still analyzing your movements.

"Well, my child here just up and disappeared a couple years back, left me and my husband in shambles."

Clearly she didn't know about the nautiloid, or about any of your adventures.

"And yet suddenly here you are, a house, a lovely man, and you feel no need to tell your parents you're home? After all, we could always use the help."

"Well, Astarion and I have been very busy mother, finishing up the house, settling in."

"You know I could've helped with all that."

"We've been managing fine."

The conversation starts to get aggressive. Astarion goes into that protective stance of his, standing tall next to you and wrapping his arm around you.

"Yes, if we ever need help we'll certainly reach out."

There's a slight hiss at the end of his sentence, and you nudge him in the side, trying to get him to keep his composure.

"No need to get all defensive. Tav and I, we understand each other. I just worry, my child being out in the wild, adventuring through forests with all those miserable monsters."

"Would've been better being away from the worst of them."

You mutter under your breath. It's frustrating, this woman coming back into your life, trying to convince you to come back and 'help' her out with the business. You did almost all the work, under her hand. And when you said you wanted to leave and go out on a grand quest...

"You know what, you need to leave."

You finally speak up.

"Excuse me?"

She's shocked.

"Yeah, before there's another accident. Would hate if I broke my leg again."

Astarion's grip tenses.

"That was a sad coincidence and you know it Tav."

"No, you pulled the ladder out from under me while I was climbing to fix something on the roof, and I fell and shattered my leg, and this just so happened to be the day after I told you I was going to leave the city."

"I was trying to stabilize it after I saw it was falling. Don't blame your poor mother."

"And what about when you refused to have a cleric come see me, and I was on bed rest for months on end, while you did nothing."

Your mother goes to speak again, but Astarion cuts her off.

"As my lovely partner here has already said, I think you need to leave, now."

He unwraps himself from you, stepping towards the defensive woman.

"There's no way you believe Tav's idiotic lies. Don't be a fool."

"You're the fool, a fool who's about to lose their head if you don't turn around and leave this house."

She goes to say something else, watching as he goes to grab his trusty dagger. Instead she simply huffs, and storms out the door. Astarion slams it behind her.

"You'll come back Tav, you'll see reason!"

He quickly deadbolts the door and comes back over to you, and you finally break down. That woman, she terrorized you your entire childhood, and some mind flayer ship took you away from her, thankfully.

"You... you never told me about your mother."

"Yeah, I didn't think it really compared to all of your shit."

You wipe at your eyes.

"Now, we don't need to compare apples and oranges my love. It's abuse, all the same, all evil."

He holds you for a while. You're still nervous you'll hear banging on the door, but hopefully Astarion scared her off well enough.

"She'll never be back here, not if I have something to say about it. Here, come sit."

You make your way to the sofa, and he just holds you for a while. It's silent, except for his breathing and a few soft sobs from your sorrows.

"You know, I don't mean to pry, and you don't have to answer if you don't wish to... but did she really let you suffer like that? With your leg just, shattered?"

"Mhm. I couldn't walk for months. I still don't think it ever healed properly. I begged for her to get someone to come look at it, and she just kept saying 'no Tav, they'll just charge us for some bogus potions' and that was that."

He wraps his arms around you tighter than ever. He's lost in thought, going between thoughts of your pains and his own.

"We're so lucky."

You're a little surprised. It's not often he's such an optimist, especially at times like this.

"What do you mean?"

"I think we understand each other better than anyone. Your griefs echo mine, it just makes sense. Not to say I'm happy you went through that... but we're just lucky, lucky to have each other."

You plant a gentle kiss on his hand.

"I agree darling. Thank you, for always being here for me."

"Only because I know you'd do the same for me, my love."

The two of you stay cuddled there for a long time, not really saying or thinking anything. Just two people, sitting in the air of each other's freedom. Just two lovers who were the first to be loved by one another.

[rose-tinted-glasses671]

Let The Light In

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem reader

warnings: mentions of abuse and human trafficking

summary: your husband is finally back home from a mission, but he's brought home a little girl, and he's struggling with what he saw.

read pt.2

a/n: This is my first attempt at a fanfic but im excited about this. The idea came from one of my many pre-sleep scenarios that i had a strong desire to put on paper. Also, I wrote simon to not be emotionally closed off because: a) thats how i imagine he would be and b) i love an emotionally mature man. okay thats it. enjoy!

You had been preparing yourself a glass of ice water before bed when you heard the beeping of the electronic keypad from your front door. There was only one person besides you who could unlock the high-tech security system that secured your house: Simon. A flood of excitement rushed through you as you put your glass down and ran to the front door, giddy with happiness at your husband’s arrival. You knew he was due back home soon, but as it usually went with military deployments, the dates were always tentative.

But, to your surprise, when the door opened, you didn’t just see your hulking, 6’4 husband at the door, but also a little girl, no older than maybe seven years. Your eyes bounced between the two as you saw Simon guide the girl through the door; the little girl who looked terrified out of her mind as her eyes darted around the dark entryway. As she began to cower away from the darkness, Simon turned on the light that illuminated the foyer, finally bringing you into his view.

His eyes jumped to you in an instant, an intense melancholy and fatigue written all over his face. That’s also when you heard a faint sniffle from the little girl, and when you looked down, your heart broke at the sight of her. Bruises littered her arms and legs, all in different stages of healing, along with countless cuts, scars, and what looked like cigarette burn marks. She had on tattered clothes and shoes, but what really sent you over the edge was the black eye that marred her right eye.

Both your motherly instincts and your doctor training kicked into overdrive. Being five-months pregnant was putting you into protective mama bear mode, and your ER doctor training was telling you to get this girl to a hospital to see if she had any broken bones or internal bleeding. Ultimately, you took a deep breath and decided the girl just needs to feel safe right now.

“Hi there,” you chirped, slowly approaching the little girl, cautious of the fact that she was extremely scared and was thus probably sensitive to sudden gestures. The girl brought her gaze up off the floor to look at you, distrust and fear still evident in her eyes. You then introduced yourself to her, but when you asked for her name, she remained quiet.

“She hasn’t spoken since we rescued her,” Simon spoke up for the first time. “It’s gonna take the boys a while to find her family without her name, so I thought…” That she’d be safe with us tonight.

You nodded before asking, “Did the medic check her out?”

“Just barely, once we got onto the plane,” Simon replied. “I came here as soon as we landed back at base.”

“Okay,” you said, finally turning your attention back to the girl. You got down to her eye-level so as not to make her feel anymore threatened. “How ‘bout I make you a nice PB&J, and then we can get you cleaned up and into a fresh pair of pajamas?” you asked, keeping your tone light and how you usually did with your younger patients.

The girl continued looking at you, but remained silent. After a moment, you asked, “What if I brought the food to you here?”

The tense line of the girl’s shoulders relaxed a little, and some of the tightness in her face dissipated. You took that as a confirmation and smiled softly, nodding your head again.

“Stay with her,” you said to Simon, before rushing into the kitchen and hastily putting together the sandwich. With a plate of food and a glass of water in your hands, you went back to the foyer, both Simon and the girl standing in the exact same place as where you’d left them. You handed the girl her food and placed the water next to her, letting her get comfortable and do things at her own pace.

You thought in the meantime you could speak with Simon, but when you turned your head, he wasn’t in the foyer anymore. Not wanting to leave the girl alone, you stayed with her as she ate, continuing to talk to her in the hopes of making her feel safer and more comfortable.

The girl ate slowly, taking big gulps of water in between bites, and your heart continued to break at her timidness, not daring to think of the kind of atrocities she’d probably had to face in her short life.

After a while, with food in her belly and her thirst quenched, the girl finally gave you a small smile, letting you take her upstairs. You prepared a warm bath for her in the guest bathroom, putting in salts and adding in bubbles so that she could soak her bruises and maybe get some relief for the night.

You had some of your niece’s clothes in the dresser, and although she was a bit older than this little girl, the oversized pajamas would have to do for tonight. You’d go get her some new clothes first thing in the morning.

“I’ve left a towel and some clothes for you on the counter here once you’re done,” you instructed the girl, placing the items next to the sink for her to see. She nodded, and you turned to leave so she could get to it, but then she pulled on your shirtsleeve. When you turned back to her, she was pointing to the spot in front of the bathroom door, small grunts leaving her throat as she tried to voice something to you.

Initially, you didn’t get what she was saying, thinking she was trying to point something out to you that you didn’t see. But when understanding dawned, your heart melted a little. “You want me to wait out there for you?” you asked.

The girl’s eyes lit up as she furiously nodded her head, and you chuckled, happy that you were able to gain just a little bit of her trust. You went and stood in the spot the girl indicated, and she closed the door behind her, though not all the way, leaving it slightly ajar.

You went and rested on the chair in the corner of the room, your feet starting to get sore as they tended to at this point in your pregnancy.

Time passed sluggishly as you scrolled on your phone, the minutes blending together and a wicked tiredness engulfing you from head to toe. You didn’t want to leave the room in case the girl needed something, so you slowly started dozing off in the chair when you finally heard the squeak of the bathroom door. You looked up to the see the girl walking out, her head swiveling and catching sight of you. She approached you with a hairbrush in her hands and the legs of the pajama bottoms dragging behind her.

“Let me fix those for you,” you said as you bent down and cuffed the pants to fit the girl better. Once you did so, she handed you the hairbrush, silently asking you to detangle her hair for her. It was going to be a feat because a lot of her hair was matted, and you knew you were going to have to be very gentle. The girl turned around and you thought she was going to sit on the floor in front of you, but instead she planted herself on your lap. A rush of warmth and affection flooded your body, the immense need to protect the girl overtaking your senses.

While you were brushing her hair, the girl looked around the room, familiarizing herself with her surroundings. When her eyes landed on the stack of magazines on the side table next to you, she froze, and then abruptly stood up, startling you.

“I’m not done-“ you began, but then saw that the girl was pointing at the magazine on the top of the stack.

“Oh that’s a magazine. My favorite one, actually ” you said in reference to the old issue of Harper’s Bazaar she was pointing at. But then the girl started aggressively tapping the cover, so you leaned in closer to get a better look and saw that she was specifically pointing at Harper’s.

“Is your name Harper?”

She aggressively nodded again, in the way she does when you understand what she’s saying.

You finally had her name, and you felt much better now that you knew the girl was feeling comfortable enough to tell it to you.

“Harper,” you said, and she beamed up at you, her smile brighter than any other she had given you tonight.

With this happy revelation, you finished brushing Harper’s hair and then finally tucked her into bed. The poor girl was so exhausted that she passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

You closed the door behind you with a soft thud as you left the room. As happy as you were with the progress you’d made with Harper, you were equally concerned for your husband. Obviously, what he’d seen had affected him, and all you wanted was to be there for him, but you and Simon both knew Harper took precedence in this situation.

Every second Simon spent looking at the girl sent him into a spiral of unspeakable sadness and anger. He knew that the little girl’s captives were dead, and that they couldn’t bring her anymore harm, but that didn’t lessen the red that clouded his vision, or dull the melancholy he felt.

Simon had to leave the room as soon as he saw the girl was safe and being cared for by you. Of course, he felt bad leaving his pregnant wife to look after a little girl he had just brought into their house, but he was spiraling and he didn’t know what to do.

Blindly, he went to the alcohol bar in the corner of the living room and grabbed his favorite bottle of Bourbon and a rocks glass. He poured himself two fingers of the liquor, breaking the promise he made to himself to not drink while you were pregnant. He was abstaining as an act of solidarity since he knew how much you missed your wine, but these circumstances called for a little bit of medicine.

Simon then found himself pouring another two fingers of the liquid, and then another, before deciding to cool it—albeit with much difficulty. He couldn’t leave you caring for a little girl and an inebriated husband.

He couldn’t understand what compelled him to bring the girl home with him, why her appearance and disposition brought him so much anguish. Except he did; he understood that he saw so much of the broken boy he used to be in that little girl. It made him want to throw up.

The moment Simon laid eyes on the bruised and battered girl in that shit hole of a basement, he was transported back to his childhood. Visions of belts and fists and blacks and blues clouded his mind like a thick fog on a summer morning.

Simon’s teammates tried talking to him, noticing his sudden change in demeanor, but to no avail. The world around him was buzzing, almost like the TV static of an old CRT. And he craved nothing more than to fall into the void of numbness.

“Simon?” Your voice broke through the darkness of his mind as you came to stand in front of him, soft and careful and just what he needed to hear. Your hand came up to rest on his cheek, and just that simple touch gave him a world of comfort. He leaned into your palm, bringing his hands up to your hips and gently tugging you towards him until you were straddling his seated form.

Simon knew that you were the only person in the world who could keep him grounded in the present, bring him back from the scariest depths of his wretched mind, and so tonight he was going to be selfish and take all the comfort that you’d be willing to give him.

Feeling a tightness in his throat and a stinging in his nose, Simon brought you impossibly closer and buried his face in your neck.

You held your husband, feeling his body shake as he was wracked with silent sobs. Simon wasn’t one to hold back how he was feeling from you—you both had worked too hard on communicating your emotions to each other for all that to be taken back now—but you had only ever seen him cry once before: the day you got married. And that too was only a single tear before he composed himself.

“You wanna tell me what you’re feeling?” you asked gently, letting him know you’re here to talk without making him feel pressured to do so.

When Simon continued to just hold you, you didn’t press the matter, presuming he didn’t want to discuss it right now. But eventually, he sat back, keeping a firm hold on your waist while finally bringing his blood-shot eyes to you.

“When we raided those houses tonight, the last thing I expected was to find little girls and boys chained up in a decrepit basement like rabid animals,” Simon began, a profound sadness lingering in his eyes as he gazed away, lost in the memory of the night before. “The mission was supposed to be a simple bust, something with illegal weapons.” He shook his head. “But human trafficking?”

It sickened Simon to think of all the other operations they were probably running that would take him months, if not years, to bust.

“When I saw the girl,” Simon continued, talking about Harper, “For a second…I saw myself in her. She was the most severely injured out of all the kids, and somehow, I just knew it was because she had been fighting her captives tooth and nail.”

He then shook his head again with a scoff. “I don’t know…I just had this visceral need to protect her.”

You didn’t try to analyze Simon’s feelings, because that wasn’t your job. You weren’t his therapist, you were his wife. So you nodded in understanding and brought your arms around him again, resting your cheek on the crown of his head.

“You did the right thing bringing Harper here while they look for her family. She could use a stable environment right now,” you said.

“Harper? Is that her name?” Simon questioned, and you beamed down at him.

“Yeah, she told me upstairs.”

“She spoke to you?”

You shook your head no. “Pointed to an old issue of Harper’s Bazaar I had laying out,” you chuckled.

“Hmm.”

You watched as Simon got lost in his head again.

“Listen to me,” you said, bringing his attention back to you. “Harper’s safe now. She’s here, and we’ll take care of her for as long as needed before she goes back to her family.” You took Simons hands, which were still holding your waist, and brought them to your front, interlocking your fingers with his. “She has been through something traumatic. And it will take time, but she will bounce back. I can see the fight in her.”

Simon contemplated your words, thinking back to the fight Harper had put up when he tried to help her, thinking he was another bad man trying to hurt her. She had cowered at the sight of him, especially scared because of the skull plate mask he wore. At that understanding, he took it off, and explained to her gently that they were there to save her. She had reluctantly accepted help, though not from him. A female sergeant had interjected and further calmed her down, gaining enough of her trust to get her to the evac plane.

Harper was jumpy and sensitive to the loud noises around her, living in a perpetual state of fear until he brought her to you. He knew if anyone could give her the care she needed, it was his wife.

“Maybe,” Simon mused. “It’s not that I don’t think she’ll be fine, it’s that the road there is unfathomably difficult and just as equally traumatizing.”

You nodded your head, knowing Simon was speaking from experience. You wouldn’t diminish his past by pretending that you understood what he was going through. You just had to pull him out of this downward spiral.

“That’s why having a support system is so important. And she’ll have that in us for as long as is allowed,” you said.

You smoothed a thumb across Simon’s cheek, pained at the anguish radiating off him in waves. You’d never seen him like this before, but you would do everything in your power to provide him solace.

And Simon noticed, saw how much you reassured him and tried to give some peace of mind with small touches and understanding glances.

After weeks away from you, and especially after the events of the day before, he needed to kiss you, to feel the physical connection. It was gentle at first, just a soft brush of his lips against yours. But it morphed into something deeper at your small moans and whimpers.

Oh, how Simon loved the noises you made for him, and he’d die before he let them be someone else’s. He’d die before he let you go.

“I love you,” Simon whispered as he slightly pulled away, grazing his thumb across your now swollen bottom lip. The love Simon had for you was beyond what regular words had the capacity to explain, and to sic the English language on it would be a disservice. But he made do with the simplest ones, hoping you felt the power lying underneath them.

You smiled, knowing that he didn’t have to say it for you to feel it. There wasn’t a time in your years together where you didn’t feel loved by him. You could see it in the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, at the possessive way he held you at any given moment, by the tone of his voice when he talked to you.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back.

You spent the next couple of hours just talking, updating him on everything he missed during his absence. Work drama, doctor’s visits, an impromptu trip you took with your sister when you were feeling lonely. Everything you both could talk about, you did talk about.

These were your favorite moments with him, the quiet nights where you could just enjoy each other’s presence. You could move to the ends of the earth with Simon, the freezing tundra or the blazing desert, and they would still feel like home as long as he was with you.

After a while, when your eyes got droopy and frequent yawns interrupted your conversation, Simon gathered you up in his arms and took you to bed.

He desperately wanted to fuck you, feel that ultimate connection with you, but he saw that you were too tired for all that. This pregnancy was taking its toll on you, and he regretted the times he couldn’t be there to help you through it.

“Life’s too short to have regrets,” you had told Simon before he went on his most recent mission, after he had voiced his remorse at not being with you at your most vulnerable. You had been sad about his departure—you never stopped being sad—especially because you’d been blessed in that he hadn’t been deployed for most of your pregnancy. But such was the life of a military wife, having to see your spouse leave to go on dangerous missions and wondering if those were your last moments together.

Those kinds of thoughts weren’t worth your brain-space, you told yourself. But your anxiety made that hard.

Nonetheless, you thanked your lucky stars that Simon was back with you now, tightly holding onto him in bed.

You went on to sleep peacefully, feeling Simon’s protective body curled around yours. And although sleep usually eluded him, tonight, Simon finally got a good night’s rest with you in his embrace.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Stephanie Brown has such fucking girlproblems.I'm being dead serious,not joking or mocking.Her dad was abusive emotionally and psychically and her mom was a drug addict who had to rely on her in a significant amount of places but when she recovered she was able to be a proper parent to her and there's a strong emphasis in their relathionship to them finding solidarity in being abused by the same man who had position of power over them as a husband and a father respectively.She's autistic and never learned how to mask so growing up until Robin 1993,she had no real friends and all the other kids thought she was a freak and isolated her on purpose when she's always been such a kind and upbeat person who does her best at everything

She turned to sexualizing herself and letting men exploit her because that's what society teaches girls entering puberty how you earn your worth and become a true woman.At only 15,she mocks a 14 year old Tim for being a virgin as she reveals she's now a teen mom.Her boyfriend who got her pregnant is implied to be 18/19 and SHE is shamed instead of him when she was a fucking child and even more vulnerable than normal children and he was GROWN.Tim has plenty of mistreatment thrown at him too but he's gotten praise and care Stephanie did has because he's a boy unlike her.Bruce literally picked on her as Batman and Robin and he still got to be with her in her last moments instead of her mom or her loving and protective boyfriend or her best friend who was first female friend she made fullstop and gaslight her about seeing her as a real Robin to save his own ass and NEVER EVER faces consequences for it

Almso NOBODY ever appreciates her instead of making fun of or hating her in-universe AND out of universe.Slade,the military member who's creator stated his core character is a pedophile who abuses kids even non-sexually,has more solo runs than her and is given more sympathy too.She's so much like Roy in personality and has her own homoerotic childhood superhero best friends relathionship too that parallels his and Dick's so much that 'Stephcass and Dickroy are the same ship in different font' should be a very common DC take but what excites people in him disgusts them with her and Roy isn't even allowed to be with the one he actually loves in favor of the man who ruined his life and comics history.Now isn't that ironic?Does how Jason treat him mean Roy is 'female-coded' now?

Like bffr-You as a woman stanning and especially being attracted to a male character dosen't magically mean he's a woman.And this ain't about transfems because this is peak cis fandom brainrot girl mentality and to white tboys,know that Stephanie is infinitely more interesting and trans swag filled than whatever basic white boy protag you claim is trans and make up a nonexistent personality for as you ignore canon queer poc and that Jason's cast is of women and characters of color with his story never being a trans metaphor but about poverty,trauma and mental illness.He's not for your bigoted lil asses and more importantly,Stephanie is not your jester.HER story is about girlhood and the suffering it brings but also the joy too.Stephanie Brown is my everything and she is to tons of other women as well,not just a nothing to you.Work on that shit instead of your smut wips

[lance-space-mommy]

Break The Cycle

Being quirkless sucked ass.

Izuku was simply doing his best to survive in a world where people hated his existence. He honestly didn’t understand their obsession with his quirkless status. It wasn’t like he was a threat to them nor did his existence have any direct effect on them.

Maybe they were jealous that he got to avoid the entire hierarchy by naturally being at the bottom.

Having random people hate him wasn’t Izuku’s problem. He could easily say the unwanted hate was a reflection of the person insulting him rather than it being about him.

The problem Izuku had was how the people he knew and loved dumped him the instant he was quirkless. No matter how much time had passed or the knowledge he gained, he couldn’t understand why people gave quirks so much power.

After all, quirks were useless outside of mundane use and self-defense. If you wanted to use your quirk for a purpose, you needed a license.

Nobody in his life who used their quirk on him owned a license. All the people who gave up on him also didn’t own a license.

They were as worthless as he was.

Inko Midoriya left a trail of scars some of Izuku's worst bullies couldn't compete with.

Despite Inko being a stay-at-home mother and having a husband pay all the bills, she was the farthest thing from a mother. She was neglectful, emotionally abusive, and extremely narcissistic. It didn't help that nothing Izuku did was ever good enough.

No one at school knew that Aldera Junior High wasn't the only hell hole Izuku had to deal with.

It was a cold, but bright winter day. Izuku had just gotten situated in his seat when his three tormentors approached him. Most people would believe Izuku dreaded whenever they appeared, but he found them to be more of a comfort than anything else.

They were a constant in his life even if they called him names or purposefully tried to put him down. They always approached him first thing in the morning and during the school day's last moments.

They never physically attacked him or made him feel unsafe. If anything, their constant presence protected him.

During their first year at Aldera Junior High, some upperclassmen were a threat. No one got a chance to mess with Izuku because Katsuki, Hifumi, and Tejio were already "bullying" him.

"Hey, Deku! You look more sickly than usual," greeted Katsuki, the person Izuku had a hidden admiration for.

"Not a surprise a quirkless loser like you can't handle a little snow," teased Tejio, the guy with spiky teeth for a quirk. It became a habit for him to stick up his nose when it came to Izuku.

Hifumi, the bully with a long-finger quirk, didn't bother speaking. He was too busy typing on his phone. He recently hit it off with a girl and is busy trying to find out where she was in the school.

Izuku looked up at the three with a deep frown, not really having any motivation to give his usual sporadic response of rambles. Katsuki, as observant as ever, took note of the extreme change of attitude. While he was originally irritated, a part of him grew worried that Izuku wasn't just pale because he was cold, but rather because he had a cold.

Before Katsuki could make another remark, Izuku spoke up in a broken voice. "I... uh... I'm."

Katsuki froze, caught off guard by how weird Izuku was being. Hifumi was now paying attention, concerned about what was going on. Sure, he was an asshole and made an effort to ruin Izuku's day, but he knew something was wrong and they weren't the source of his distress.

"Well? I don't have all day," barked Katsuki, crossing his arms as he kicked the leg of Izuku's desk.

"I'm moving... today is my last day here," revealed Izuku in a quiet voice, shifting his gaze to the surface of his desk.

The news of the annoying, nerdy, quirkless kid should have made Katsuki, Hifumi, and Tejio jump in the air and celebrate. Yet, the three were stuck in place, staring at Izuku as they waited for him to say it was a joke.

In one instant, the three teens realized just how important Izuku was to them. It was a disgusting feeling, knowing they formed a strong bond with the person they claimed to hate. Suddenly, the person they'd had around since elementary was now leaving in less than twelve hours.

"Huh? Aunty Inko is really dragging you away?" questioned Katsuki, his sharp tone vanishing into something tamer.

Tejio nodded at Katsuki's question before he backed the blond up. "Not that I care, but this seems very last-minute."

Izuku rolled his top lip in and bit it for a moment, before popping his lips. Flicking his eyes up to the three, he let his fingers brush the soft edge of his notebook. "Yeah, it is pretty last minute, but family problems don't wait for anyone."

"Is someone dying?" asked Hifumi out of the blue. Tejio was quick to jab him in the ribs for asking a question like that so suddenly.

"No! No one is dying... it's just personal things," admitted Izuku, not planning on telling his peers that he was planning on running away.

Hifumi scoffed, rolling his eyes. "There is no way you're leaving because of us."

Izuku shook his head with a weak smile. "No, I'm not. If I was going to leave because of the school, I would have done it in between year change. Besides, I like how close this school is to home."

"So, what fucked up shit has you booking it out of here?" pressed Katsuki, knowing that digging for information was the last thing he should be doing. He didn't want to give off the impression that he was worried. Although, that concern wouldn't matter with Izuku moving away.

"I can't tell anyone about it. My mom doesn't want me talking about it," mumbled Izuku, trying to keep this conversation from reaching the ears of his other classmates. The fewer people that knew the better.

"Damn, it sounds serious," huffed Tejio, rubbing the back of his neck.

Izuku flashed a strained smile in response. "Let's just say it is."

As the school day continued, the harder it was for Katsuki to comprehend that Izuku was leaving. He's never known life without Izuku. Now he was expected to show up to school the following morning and stare at Izuku's empty desk.

The end of the day arrived and Izuku walked out the front doors without looking back. Katsuki watched Izuku walk away, letting the new wave of emotions fester inside him.

He wasn't going to chase Izuku or apologize at the last minute, but a part of him knew he'd regret it.

Hifumi let out a loud sigh before turning to look at Katsuki. "Damn. It's gross that I feel happy for him."

"No, I get where you're coming from. This place is kinda a shithole if you think about it," agreed Tejio, turning to Hifumi.

"I bet Deku snitched on us and his mom decided to just leave," scoffed Katsuki. At this point, he'd say anything to deflect and make himself feel better.

Izuku walked home, up the steps to the apartment, and sucked in a deep breath. This was it. This was going to be the last time he ever walked into his home.

It took weeks of sneaking around to find all his documentation and anything that truly belonged to him. Everything he was taking with him had to fit in his school bag and a small-sized duffle bag. He couldn't raise any suspicion considering he never knew which version of his mom he was going to be speaking to.

Best case scenario she was going to be neglectful and not even say goodbye to him on the way out.

Making his way to the door, Izuku called out to Inko. "Hey Mom, I'll be leaving now."

The sound of rushed footsteps caught his attention. Inko appeared at the end of the hall with a small smile. Tensing up out of fear his mother was in a good mood and was going to ask a bunch of questions, Izuku swallowed hard.

"Don't go for too long," chuckled Inko softly, extending out an arm as she approached. "Come back home right after school tomorrow."

Izuku pulled open the door, refusing to look Inko in the eye out of fear she'd sense something was wrong. "I will, I promise." It was quiet for a moment before Izuku felt a strong urge to say, "I love you."

Not expecting a response, Izuku gasped when Inko happily echoed, "I love you too. Take care."

Suddenly running away felt incredibly hard. He loved his mother and saw how she was struggling with being abandoned by her husband while being expected to raise a child alone.

Despite the part of him screaming to turn around, run into her arms, and sob… he knew he couldn’t. Within the next hour, she could be angry or detached. He was tired of always fearing his mother’s wrath.

Izuku made his way to the nearest train station and started his journey. He took train after train till he was at least 10 prefectures away from the city of Musutafu. Running on nothing but limited luck and hope for a better future, he made his way to a cafe.

He had looked up jobs in the region and found an incredible opportunity. As long as he worked full-time at the cafe, he would be able to stay in the apartment on the third floor. Of course, rent would automatically be taken out of his paycheck, but that wasn’t an issue.

Izuku wore a snow hat and a bushy scarf during his interview. That way his hair was completely covered as well as his freckles.

The owner was kind and gentle. It was clear she loved her job and simply needed an extra hand. Izuku was willing to be that person.

Thankfully, the woman was desperate so Izuku was given the green light to move in immediately and would start working the next morning. Without a single worry, he agreed.

After a box of black hair dye and some full-coverage foundation, Izuku happily made his way down into the closed cafe to sign documents.

Twenty-four hours passed and as the weight was lifted off Izuku’s shoulders, hell broke loose in a small region in Musutafu.

While Katsuki, Hifumi, and Tejio weren’t surprised to see Izuku was absent, the adults were. Before lunch arrived, news broke out that Izuku was missing. Inko was called regarding her son's absence. She tried calling him, but no response.

Inko called her best friend Mitsuki, the mother of Katsuki. Izuku had claimed he was spending the night only to never have shown up. According to Mitsuki, she was never alerted that Izuku was supposed to come over.

Katsuki felt like a bucket of ice water was poured over him at the news. He lied to Katsuki, Hifumi, and Tejio about moving. Izuku most definitely ran away. He couldn’t be sure he wasn’t the cause of it, but he figured Inko was part of the reason.

Last-minute. Family issues. Serious. Inko doesn’t want him talking about it.

Something was fishy about the situation.

It wouldn’t be until five long years later that Katsuki would meet Izuku again. Katsuki was supposed to go on a business trip despite being the number one hero. He was going to be a representative for the Hero Agency as some of the people working on support gear really wanted to work with this Hero Support Department.

All he knew was that was underground, but ridiculously good.

Much to Katsuki’s surprise, the Hero Support building was huge. If his coworkers said that this business was underground, then they were still beyond successful.

Marching into the elevator where he was to be taken to the top floor. He enjoyed not being hounded by the people rushing around. It was clear they prioritized their work over getting an autograph from a famous hero.

When the doors slid open, Katsuki was met with a pretty basic floor plan. On one side of the floor was the office while on the other was the workroom for Support gear.

Assuming the largest office belonged to the owner, Katsuki entered calmly. The last thing Katsuki expected to see was Izuku standing by the windows lining the room.

“Holy shit. Izuku?”

Izuku’s head whipped around, staring at Katsuki. “Kacchan?

Katsuki, in his hero suit and all, raced over to Izuku. Izuku already felt the tears of relief form in his eyes as his chest was filled with uncontrollable emotions. Katsuki pulled Izuku close, crushing him in a hug.

With close to no hesitation, Izuku wrapped his arms around Katsuki and cried. He spent so many years alone trying to navigate the hero world alone. Just being reminded that there was someone who missed him and was happy to see him brought Izuku such joy.

“What the hell Nerd?” croaked Katsuki, pulling back to look at Midoriya’s face.

“I’m sorry, Kacchan,” sighed Izuku softly, looking up at Bakugo with a guilty frown.

Katsuki shook his head, raising a hand to rest against his forehead. “One day you say you're leaving because of family problems and the next you’re reported missing. Do you have any idea how fucking insane that is?”

Izuku nodded stiffly. Katsuki noted that the nodding was less meant for him and more toward Izuku himself. Izuku stepped back to lean on his desk. “It was insane. I was the one who lived it. I couldn’t risk anyone finding out about my plans to run away. I had no intention of ever returning if you couldn’t tell.”

“I got the memo. But still, your mother was devastated… I can’t imagine why you’d leave her without even a note,” stated Katsuki gently despite the rasp in his voice.

Shaking his head, Izuku let it fall forward as a pain-filled smile spread across his face. “Kacchan. She’s the reason I ran away.”

Within a matter of seconds, Katsuki’s world was flipped upside down. Despite his initial suspicion of Inko being involved in the disappearance of Izuku, she had flawlessly manipulated him into a false sense of security. She claimed that Izuku hadn’t been acting any different, that she was happy he was getting out more, and a plethora of sappy mom crap he truly couldn’t have cared less about.

In the end, Inko was the reason. All those days she cried and begged for someone to find her son; she was the reason he was gone. The countless times she was over at their place for dinner, rambling on about Izuku and how incredible he was, she drove him away. Inko played the victim so well and that said everything Katsuki needed to know.

As Katsuki processed the information and the past years without Izuku and his interactions with Inko, Izuku watched. Fierce green eyes lasered in on Katsuki’s expression as the truth sunk in. It was relieving to see that Katsuki instantly trusted him.

“Damn.”

“Yeah…”

Katsuki kicked an imaginary stone before meeting Izuku’s gaze. “So… what did she do? Where did you go? How’d you end up here?”

Izuku smiled, walking to the glass windows lining the room. “She was sometimes good, but she was an extreme narcissist at heart. She was neglectful in all ways you could think of and without fail… every day, she was emotionally abusive.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? You know Aunty would have helped,” pointed out Bakugo. While he wasn’t necessarily trying to victim-blame Midoriya, he wanted to know why Midoriya hadn’t reached out to outlets he had before making such a serious choice.

Stepping back to turn around and face Katsuki again, Izuku scowled. “I’m sorry, but do you have no idea how dumb you sound right now?”

Gawking in disbelief, Katsuki crossed his arms in defense. “Fucking excuse me? That’s a very good question to ask considering you chose to run away without letting anyone know instead of trying to get help if you were in a bad situation.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Izuku shook his head. “I don’t think you are listening to me. I just told you Inko was a narcissist. If I were to reach out to Mitsuki for help, she would confront my mom, and the entire problem would somehow be my fault in the end. If Mitsuki somehow wasn’t fooled, I’d still be forced to come back home and that was the last thing I wanted to happen.”

“Shit… sorry. It’s just I don’t understand how you just decided to leave everything behind,” clarified Katsuki slowly, raising his shameful head to meet Izuku’s disappointed gaze.

There was a heavy atmosphere in the room, but Izuku and Katsuki weren’t about to walk away from the conversation without figuring things out.

Deflating after letting thirty long seconds of silence pass, Izuku stressed, “It was for the best. Being at home was a nightmare and I needed to get out. Trying to survive in the world as a quirkless teen was far less scary than the idea of being under the same roof as Inko for another moment.”

Katsuki nodded slowly, stepping toward Izuku to reach for his hand. As soon as his large soft fingers linked with Izuku's small rough ones, he tightened his grip. “I’m sorry. You deserved better. I bet it wasn’t an easy decision to make and I know you had to work your ass off to get to this point. Fuck Inko and the shit she did to you, it’s clear you didn’t need to stick around to achieve greatness.”

Lip wobbling and glassy-eyed, Izuku sniffled as he squeezed Katsuki’s hand back. “Thank you, Kacchan. It was hard… leaving you behind. I wanted to tell you—I really did, I just couldn’t risk it.”

“You don’t have to apologize for keeping yourself safe idiot,” chastised Katsuki fondly, lowering his head to focus on the small changes in Izuku’s mature features.

“Right,” croaked Izuku, doing his best to not flood his office with tears. “I worked at a coffee shop full time and lived in an apartment on top of the cafe. I had a good paycheck, a place to live, and I was able to use all my free time to finish my schooling online. Once I graduated, I just started climbing the social ladder while doing countless programs in the hero support gear field.”

Katsuki grinned, letting go of Izuku’s hand to rest both hands on his hips. “Not surprised a nerd like you was able to pull all of this off. Still, I’m not planning on letting you disappear on me again.”

Izuku quickly wiped his face before running his fingers through his hair. “Likewise. We will be business partners after all.”

“Huh? You mean you’re accepting my agency's request to have our hero gear produced solely by your department?” quizzed Katsuki, eagerly. While he was more than thrilled to see Izuku again and know that the missing piece of him was no longer missing, he really did want the best for his hero agency and all the heroes working with him.

“Of course! While I do have favorites and you are one of them, I’d never turn down work proposals!” cheered Izuku quickly as he made his way to his desk where stacks of papers were sitting.

“Hell yeah!”

“But just know I’m still expecting compensation for a decade of your bullying,” teased Izuku, raising a contract with a devilish smile.

Shivering with a manic smirk on his face, Katsuki enthusiastically snatched the paper from Izuku. “Sign me up.”

[smok3r7]

Is Leaving Even An Option?

Joel x F!reader

Explicit, 18+

Five: Running Away

Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My Ao3

Summary: Your days have become one in the same, even with the terrifying reality of death right outside the walls of Jackson. You never thought you’d be in the situation you’ve been stuck in for seven years now, the daily abuse you endure has become an expectation. You take whatever your husband throws at you, literally and figuratively, because you’ve been trained to believe this is normal. But a new man, Joel, moves next door and happens to be friendly towards you, this causes your husband’s anger to worsen. Your mind starts a gruesome war with itself - can you leave him or do you stay until the inevitable happens?

Chapter Summary: Nate is officially out of the picture for good, at least for the last year. A fun night of card games and alcohol causes you and Joel finally to have a chance to maybe spark something new. But you get scared, and what do you do when you get scared? You run away.

Word count: 5.8k

⚠️Warnings: cards against humanity, sexual tension, grinding, fingering, relationship ptsd, feeling confused

I just wanna give a big shout to @chloeangelic she has been an absolute blessing to me, thank you so much for helping me through this process, love you🫂🫶🏼

—

The warm summer breeze flows through your hair as you sit on a rocking chair on the wrap-around porch you’ve come to relax on, the sounds of children playing surrounds you, the sun beaming down onto the green yards filled with dandelions in the neighborhood, and you couldn’t be any happier.

Another year has passed by without any problems, you practically live with Joel and Ellie, and you can’t remember the last time you set foot in your old place, too many horrific memories associated with that home. Nate has been gone for months now - he and Daniel got an assignment to go out West a bit more to find different supplies Jackson needs.

All you know is that they’re still alive, based off of radio communications, but in reality, you don’t care anymore, to the point where you have asked Henry, who’s in control of the radio, to stop giving you updates.

You’ve mentally and emotionally moved on from Nate, and he’s more a figment of your imagination by now. You don’t have any more romantic ties to him, which means, you’re back to your normal fun self. Your witty personality takes over the weak one that grew over you like weeds, and it’s pretty funny; you and Ellie are very similar, she’s what you would imagine your daughter to be like. It’s bittersweet.

“Hey darlin’,” Joel greets as he comes out of the house you now share with them, with a glass of lemonade in each hand, “Extra sugar, just how you like it.” He winks at you when you reach out to grab the tall glass, a smile grows on your warm face, “You, Miller, are the best.”

He laughs as he sits down next to you in the other chair with a groan, “I try my best.” You shake your head and take a drink of the freshly squeezed lemonade and your mouth is filled with the perfect mix of sugary sweetness and fresh lemons. You hum from the pure satisfaction that flows through your tastebuds, “Gotta hand it to you, Miller,” you turn your head to look him in the eyes, “This is perfect.”

His eyes gaze from your eyes down to your lips and back again, a soft smile grows on his worn face as he smoothly says, “Anything for you, sugar.” The two of you continue to stare at each other as you both silently drink the delicious yellow drink, just enjoying the beautiful summer weather.

The rest of the afternoon is spent with you both enjoying each other's company, along with the surrounding noise of people outside. However, there’s something different about the way you and Joel are communicating, but you can’t quite put your finger on it.

—

“Okay, okay, here we go. What killed the dinosaurs?” Ellie finally gets out after a burst of laughter. Joel and you have started a game night type of thing every Friday with Ellie, Tommy, and Maria, and tonight is Cards Against Humanity.

“AIDS, oh my god,” Ellie chokes, as does the rest of the group playing, but you hear Tommy snicker under his breath. Welp, that’s Tommy’s.

“Bees?” She laughs as she sets the white card down, “I mean, what?” She shakes her head and leans back in her chair, “John Travolta’s right hand… Okayyyy.” A confused look grows on her face as she looks at Joel, but he doesn’t give any hint of whether it's his or not as he takes a sip of his whiskey.

“And finally,” she flips the last white card and immediately looks at you across from her at the dining room table, you try to give her a what are you looking at sort of look, but the wine you’ve been drinking catches up to you as you try to hide your smile that’s just waiting to crack with your hand. You know it’s your card and it’s a doozy, “Old lady, you’re something else,” she shakes her head and reads, “Having no legs, just toes.”

You and Ellie are the only ones who are cracking up, both of you hitting the wooden table and starting to see tears rolling down each other's faces. The rest of the table, however, doesn’t seem to find it as funny as you both do. “That’s the winner!” Ellie hollers as she slides the black card on the table to you, and your hand stops it from flying off the table.

“I win!” You yell with excitement as you put your arms in the air and start to wave them side to side, the red wine Maria brought over giving you a boost of adrenaline and confidence to be who you truly are, and you don’t care if they don’t like it - because this is the girl you’ve wanted to be for decades, the girl who could be what she wanted and didn’t care about what others thought.

“Really? AIDS was so much better!” Tommy playfully argues with Ellie, but Ellie is quick with the rebuttal. “I know but just imagine a T-Rex with its baby arms, and with just toes and no legs!” She breaks out into a fit of laughter before she can even finish her sentence, and it causes the whole table to erupt in laughs.

God, you can’t remember the last time you felt like this - just pure happiness and comfort. It’s so heartwarming to be able to live through this moment during the time of what seems to be the end of the world, along with surviving your shit marriage. You never thought you’d be able to see or even feel this again, it’s beautiful.

After the roaring laughter dies down to a lower volume conversation about whatever Town Hall is planning for this weekend, the sudden touch of Joel’s large warm hand on your skin catches your attention. You take a second to subtly look down and you notice how his hand fits perfectly on your squishy thigh as he softly squeezes your flesh. A shudder crawls up your spine, pure ecstasy surges through your body and, god, yes, you haven’t had this feeling in years, so long you honestly don’t even know how to take care of it.

Your cheeks start to heat up and your breathing gets a bit heavy, the wine definitely not helping to keep this hidden. Without giving it a second thought, you bring your hand on top of his and give a gentle squeeze back to tell him, this is okay. Over the last couple months, the subtle flirting between you and Joel has slowly turned into something that could potentially become serious, but the conversation has never been had between you two, so it’s been a gray area for awhile now.

You’re trying to keep your full attention on Maria who is discussing to the whole table how she’s so sick of having to plan all of the events that go on in Jackson, but let’s be real, you can’t pay her any mind. All your attention is focused on Joel and his gentle touch as he slowly swipes his thumb close to your now arousal covered panties, your stomach doing flips from the anticipation, and even though you continue to nod your head with her complaints, your patience with Maria is running thin.

All you want to do right now is drag Joel upstairs and fuck him like it’s the last and only time you’ll be able to, but that’s not possible at the moment.

Joel must be thinking and feeling the same thing because he then leans into your ear and whispers for only you to hear, “Want me to send them home?” You slightly turn your head, mainly your eyes, and all you do is bite your bottom lip in a smile that’s covered by your hand, as you barely nod your dazed head.

You’re so lost in the fantasy of you and Joel finally being able to end the long-awaited game of flirting, that you’re really not even mentally here as Maria and Tommy do their farewells and Ellie tells you two that she’s gonna head over to Dina’s for the evening. It feels almost like a dream kind of state, you haven’t drank like this in god knows how many years, and you really only had three glasses of wine - but you feel like you drank a whole bottle to yourself, so you’re drunk, basically, but not in a sloppy way, just with newfound confidence.

—

Now it’s only you and Joel, just the two of you alone in this huge house, and anything could happen. As you stand in the living room a few feet away from his muscular build, you slowly make your way to the staircase, and Joel then shuts the big door behind Ellie, then locks it, twice.

Joel turns around to face you, your hand now wrapping around the brown railing that leads to the second floor. He has this smirk on his lips that shows you he’s as riled up as you are.

Feeling a bit of confidence rise in your belly, you sing to him, “Catch me if you can, Miller,” and as you start to run up the hardwood steps, only a second later, you hear him chuckle, ooh just wait, and the sound of his quick feet behind you. Normally this would terrify you, but this is different, you’re not even close to feeling scared, you actually feel excited.

You’re feeling kind of frisky too, so you decide to be a little extra; you reach the door that leads to Joel’s room at the end of the hallway and you quickly spin around to face him as he reaches the top of the steps. You strip off your flannel and undershirt, then slip the flannel back on with only your black lace bra showing. Might as well make this more fun, right?

As he sees you showing off for him, he whistles and slowly struts towards you, “My, my, darlin’,” then gently wraps his fingers around your waist and presses into your plush skin, his bearded face close to your lips, “You sure know how to put on a show.”

You gaze at his eyes, his nose and his jaw, and when you see the way he adores you, a feeling stirs in your core that you can’t place, almost like a sense of hope. But you really don’t have a clue, you can’t place it, and it scares you, but for right now you push it out of sight and out of mind because you really want this. And, well, let’s be honest - you need this.

“I thought you might deserve it,” you purr back to him as you stare into his eyes, the ones that hooked you the first time you met him, and your hand rests on his chest. The next thing you know, you feel his soft lips on yours, the scratch from his beard riling you up even more, making you kiss him back with lust.

His tongue peeks out in search for permission and you eagerly open your mouth for him to lick every inch of you, his hands still on your hips but with a tighter grip, pulling you closer to grind on his hardening cock. Your hands are now grabbing his green flannel on his chest, your fingertips beginning to dig into his broad chest, both of you groaning into each other.

Somehow Joel gets his door open and you almost fall backwards into the warmth of his room, but he’s quick to catch you. “Good catch, Miller,” you chuckle as he brings you back into his chest and you begin to unbutton his shirt as he softly shuts the door behind him. He smiles as he says, “Would never let you fall, darlin’.”

Then, like a light switch flipping on, this overwhelming feeling of needing to be in control takes over, one you’ve never been able to have before in the bedroom, and you’ll be damned if that’s going to continue - this is happening on your terms only.

You swiftly spin your two bodies around, meshed together, your fingers reaching his bottom button, and when you undo it, you slide the flannel off of his shoulders and he lets it drop to the floor. Both of you pause for a moment to take in each other, and you watch his brooding chest rise and fall with his breaths, the drops of sweat that roll down his neck, and you eye his happy trail on his belly. God damn.

“You are absolutely gorgeous, sugar,” he murmurs softly as he lowers his lips to your neck and leaves a trail of kisses up to your pleading lips.

Your hands naturally move back to his chest, applying pressure for him to walk backwards to the queen size bed, his hands moving from your waist down to your jeans as he unbuttons them and rolls the zipper down. The feeling of Joel stopping his moving feet makes you realize that you’ve reached the mattress. “Sit on the bed,” you demand between moans and kisses.

“Yes, ma’am.” You can feel his smile on your plump lips as he leaves one last meaningful kiss, then sits down at the edge of the white comforter covering the bed, his legs spread open for you to stand between.

Even though you haven’t had satisfying sex, or gotten off at all in over ten years, not even by your own devices, the routine of it all has come back, almost like it never left you. You slowly strip yourself of your light washed jeans and discard them somewhere on his carpeted floor. Shit, you hear Joel whistle at the sight of you.

You bring your head back up to meet his gaze and you growl, “Back up to the pillows, take your jeans off first.”

“Gotta say, darlin’-” he starts sliding his jeans off and starts to move to the head of the bed, “I like you in control.”

You smile at his words and think, I do too. The image of him in front of you with his legs spread and his arms folded behind his head, just waiting for you to make your first move, makes you crave him ever more. You start to crawl on the bed towards him, your face is now above his black boxers that show an imprint of his cock.

God damn. You knew he was big, but not that big.

You continue to move up his body, along his belly and his chest, moving in rhythm with each other, and his face, his breathtaking features that you love so much. Your hands come up to wrap around the back of his neck as you sit on your knees on either side of his thighs, and your panty covered folds sit on his throbbing member, his large hands holding your ass as you start to slowly rock back and forth.

You’re so pent up that you could likely orgasm just from this, but you want to feel him fill you up and claim you as his own. No, you want to claim him - make him crumble apart for you, and only you.

The mixture of moans and groans from the both of you echo off of the bedroom walls, neither one of you trying to be quiet, not even the slightest.

“Fuck, sugar, keep doing that,” he groans as he watches the way your hips grind on his cock with such ease.

Your fingers wrap around his soft curls and firmly pull to make him look you in the eyes as you bring your lips to his in a fiery kiss. Your tongues battle for dominance for a moment before he finally gives in to you, the pressure from his fingers digging into the skin of your ass, causing goosebumps to rise all over.

With your right hand, you release the hold of his curls and you bring it down where your two bodies connect as you start to rub slow circles on your aching clit, causing your body to shudder from the motion. Your lips quiver against his and you see that cocky smile appear on his face again, “I gotchu sugar, not going anywhere.” His voice is low as he brings one of his hands down to replace yours, as he moves your panties to the side and starts to swipe through your soaked folds.

Your hips buck from the sensation of Joel’s thick fingers teasing your leaking hole and your throbbing clit, begging for attention. You feel his middle and ring finger slightly push into you, then release and go back to rub a few circles, and back in again. Each time he goes back to your hole, his fingers reach deeper inside you, creating this new feeling inside you.

A string of yes, don’t stop, and right there, roll off of your tongue from his fingers now fully inserted in your pulsating cunt as he continues to pump up and down.

Your head is in his shoulder as your hands have found their place back around his neck, your hips following the flow of Joel’s thick fingers.

“Look at you, pretty girl, sitting so pretty for me,” Joel coos into your ear, his other hand now on your hip as he continues to help your movements.

You start to feel the tightness grow in your lower belly, and you raise your head to look at him, at his beautiful brown eyes, as the overwhelming orgasm rips out of you. Your body stops moving as your mouth hangs open and a strung out moan leaves it, your forehead now resting on his, your eyes still meeting his gaze.

“There you go, let it all go, sugar,” he praises as he slowly pulls his fingers out of you and moves both his hands back to rest on your ass with a gentle squeeze.

Your ears are ringing, head feels dizzy, and your breathing is heavy from the intensity of the orgasm Joel has ripped out of you, almost like you’re a virgin again from how quick he pulled it out of you.

“Thank you,” you finally utter out between heavy breaths.

His face curls, “For what?”, and you chuckle as you pull your face away from his and lay your dazed head back onto his shoulder, burying your face in his neck. You softly say with a gentle tug of his silver and brown hair now damp from sweat, “For all this.”

You listen to the pattern of his rapid heartbeat as your head lifts and lowers with his hairy chest as he chuckles, “Oh darlin’, don’t gotta thank me for that.”

You hum in response with a stupid smile, pure pleasure flowing through you from head to toe, becoming so focused on his heartbeat that you don’t even notice how your eyes slowly start to close and your breathing calms down.

“You still there, pretty girl?” Joel asks, his voice causing your ears to vibrate.

Mhmm, you hum quieter than the one before, the scent of sweat, arousal, and the mix of you and Joel fills your nose as you slowly slip into a calming deep sleep.

—

Pancakes - the familiar smell wakes you up. You yawn as your hands come to rub your eyes and your legs stretch out underneath the thin gray sheet that’s covering you. You slowly push your heavy feeling body up so you can sit, and when you do, you realize you’re alone - just you half naked, in Joel’s bedroom.

What time is it? You mumble to yourself as you turn your head to look at his nightstand, eleven-thirty am, not too bad. You’ve got to be at the stables in about an hour, and you wish you had a bit more time to get ready, but oh well.

A sudden soreness shoots from between your legs as you stand up from the bed. That’s right - you and Joel slept together. Or, actually, he just fingered you, but still-

Oh god, you start to genuinely panic, he never got anything in return, he’s gonna be pissed. Even after growing out of your battered self, you are right back in it, that horrified feeling growing in your stomach and mind all over again. Your mind starts to become overwhelmed by the questions you’re asking yourself, questions that shouldn’t even be on your mind.

Why did you do that? How do you end up in these situations all the time? Why couldn’t you just give him a blowjob or something? God, why do you always have to mess it up?

The soft knocking on the door to the hallway startles you, so you quickly grab your jeans on the carpet and spring into the bathroom and quietly shut the door.

“Darlin’?” You hear Joel’s southern voice question into the now empty bedroom. “I’m in the bathroom,” you chirp out as you pull your jeans up and button them.

“Everything okay?” He must’ve heard the tension in your voice, though you tried your best to hide it, unsure of how he feels about last night.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” You respond a bit more defensive than you wanted.

“Was just askin, but I wanted to let you know that breakfast is ready for you downstairs.”

“Thank you, baby, I’ll be down in a minute.”

You hope that you’re convincing enough for him because you just want to be left alone to think for a second. You hear him sigh, alright, sugar, followed by the click of the door shutting, and now it’s your turn to sigh as you stare at your reflection in the long mirror in front of you.

Your PTSD brain has kicked into full gear, realizing that this is exactly how it started with Nate. Your first time with him was all focused on you, and he said it was okay at the time, and even made breakfast, pancakes, just for you the next morning. But then, the next time you wanted to have sex, he had no regard for you at all - you became his personal rag doll, for him to please himself whenever, however he wanted.

It’s starting to become a sick, repetitive cycle that for some reason just keeps happening to you. Your hands grip the granite counter and you start to rock back and forth, how could you be so stupid? You bend your knees and put your forehead on the edge of the counter next to your hands and you start to cry and cry.

—

You eat breakfast in silence, and even though Joel and Ellie keep trying to engage you in their conversation, you just stare at your plate and try to eat whatever your stomach allows.

After about ten minutes of mindlessly playing with your pancakes and not paying any mind to the conversation the other two were having, you abruptly stand up and gently put your dishes on the counter next to the sink.

“I’m heading next door to grab a couple things, then I’m going to the stables,” you say flatly, and before either one of them can say anything back to you, you’re out the kitchen, through the living room, snagging your bow and arrows that are hanging up, and heading out the front door.

I gotta get out of here.

You enter your old home and you're on autopilot again, your feelings turned off, thinking you’d be hyperventilating if you set foot in here again, but now, you’re not you anymore.

After making sure you locked the door behind you, so no one can barge in asking any questions, especially Joel, you run upstairs to your bedroom you once dreaded walking into. As you push the still broken door open, and you’re not shocked to see it’s in the exact same disaster the night you escaped. He’s such a pig, hasn’t cleaned up in over a year.

You take a deep breath in and out through your nose as you walk in and go immediately to your closet, then grab your dark blue travel backpack you had while you were on your own, and you start to fill the bottom with random clothes that are on your closet floor.

After you feel like you’ve packed enough, you head back downstairs to the kitchen and you start to raid whatever is left in the cupboards, finding cans of random foods that you stuff into the bag.

Lastly, you speed walk over to the front hallway closet and as you swing it open to grab the warm blanket on the top self when you hear rapid knocking and you freeze.

“Please, let me in darlin’.”

Knew it, you mumble as you shove the blanket in the top of the bag and zip it up, you then softly close the closet door and tiptoe to the kitchen, still out of sight of the front door, but another round of knocks happen and they’re louder, followed by the sound of Joel pleading your name, “I just wanna talk.”

You stop at the sound of your name flowing out his mouth with such concern and perfect ease, almost like your name was meant to roll off of his tongue, but you shake those feelings away. You continue to sneakily go out the backdoor, so you don’t have to confront Joel. You just can’t handle it, you know it would be your last straw.

After you shut the backdoor, with your backpack on along with your bow and arrow holder, you sprint between yards to the shortcut path to reach the stables, gotta grab Dougie, your horse you named after your father who passed three years before your mom got with Roy.

—

You sneak past the grocery store, not wanting to be seen by anyone who might ask questions about you having your backpack. You’re still on autopilot at this point, you just want to escape from the suffocating feeling of Jackson and its residents, needing time to really think about what’s going on with yourself.

It’s a little bit past twelve-thirty so Main Street isn’t too busy, most people out doing their jobs or going to the Tipsy Bison or Kenny’s Burgers for their lunch break. Now is the perfect time for you to jump the fence on the other side of the stables and grab Dougie, which you achieve with no problems, thank god.

However, your next difficult task is to come up with an excuse to let Vince, who’s in charge of letting people come in and go out of Jackson, to let you out of here with limited questions.

You’re on a time limit because at any given moment, Joel or Ellie will be here knocking on the barn doors, or they’ll do what you did and hop the fence to get in, and you wouldn’t be shocked if they did, because you know they care about you. So you quickly run over to your beautiful dark brown horse, who huffs as you pet his long face. Hi dad, you sigh, we’re gonna go on a little trip okay?

You unhook his reins and walk him over to the fenced in area, then open up the wooden gate and lead him out as you shut the gate to make it seem like nothing has changed. You finally mount Dougie and do a slight pull on the brown leather rein to tell him it’s time you go, just say Tommy’s okay with this and that Joel is coming after you later.

Thankfully the stables aren’t too far from the massive gate separating the infected from the living so you’re there in seconds, and just like you expected, Vince starts asking questions, but with genuine concern on why you’re going out.

“I’m just going out for a bit, want to take Dougie out for a ride,” you yell up to him as you put your hand above your eyes to shield the gleaming sun.

“By yourself?”

“Tommy is cool with it, and Joel will be coming after me later. I’ll be okay, Vince, I promise.” You nod and smile trying to convince him that this is okay.

He hesitates for a second, your anxiety starting to affect your limbs, your legs slightly shaking in the stirrups. You’re biting your bottom lip and your hands are starting to become clammy and sweaty. Vince, c’monnn.

“I’ll be back with Joel in a couple hours.” You yell at one last attempt to make him open the gates.

“Um, okay. Just … Please be safe by yourself.” He forces a smile, “Open Her Up!” He yells to the guy across from him.

“Thank you, Vince!” You yell up to him as you blow up a kiss to him, and just like that, you and Dougie are off on your own, running into the beautiful wooded land, with no real plan on what you’re doing out here.

—

You’ve been gone for just under a month, after you left Jackson, Dougie took off with you into the woods for a couple miles without stopping until you inevitably had to because the sun went down. You stopped and stayed one night at the same Motel 6 that Nate and Tommy found you in decades ago, and the next day you and Dougie went another couple miles until you found this beautiful little cabin surrounded by dandelions flooding the massive yard in front.

It was perfect for what you needed, a quiet and secluded spot for you to really explore and understand your mind and your emotions.

The two days you had been out, you only ran into just around a dozen runners and clickers, which was a piece of cake for you, and in all honesty, it was therapeutic to be able to really be you for a change.

You haven’t been outside in the real world in years and a part of you deeply misses the independence you once had, along with the constant feeling of accomplishment you received from taking down infected, or people if necessary.

The sun is just beginning to set, the sky a beautiful dark orange with a hint of bright pink hue that meshes perfectly together, and you’re sitting on the front porch on the singular brown rocking chair, ironically all very similar to yours in Jackson. You have a glass of lemonade in your hand as you gaze at the sky, and somehow, the drink is not as good as when Joel makes it for you. What is his secret?

This getaway was supposed to be healing for you, and it really has been overall, however, there’s a piece of your heart that deeply misses Ellie and Joel. This was supposed to be a way for you to make a decision as to whether Joel is exactly like Nate, with the manipulation tactics, or if he’s actually nothing like him.

Your brain knows that Joel is nothing like Nate, the complete opposite actually, however even after a year of excluding Nate as a person, you’re still in fight or flight mode. You are simply not as healed as you thought you were, and that’s okay, but you gotta find something to help you cope through it, you can’t just push it to the back burner.

You glance over to your right and you see Dougie grazing on some tall grass just a about a yard away from you, a soft smile warming your face as you stare at his beautiful brown hair and watch how he peacefully eats without a worry in the world - you wish that could be you, just a horse grazing without a care in the world, what a life.

You sigh as you bring your attention back to the summer sunset, the sound of crickets and birds chirping rings through your ears. You inhale and the smell of fresh flowers and the warm summer air overtake your senses, you lean back in the chair and bring your feet up on the seat as it slowly rocks your body back and forth.

The glass of tasteless lemonade sits on the small round wooden table in front of you and you stare at it, the condensation on the outside of the tall glass pools down around the bottom and creates a dark ring on the table. Why couldn’t you just stay with Joel?

As you continue to stare at the glass, a shadow starts to appear on the other side, you quickly stand up and grab your bow and arrow that’s on the floor next to you. Without any hesitation you grab an arrow and draw your bow back, the string taught against your cheek as you aim the slim arrow at the person riding a lighter brown horse, no way, you think.

The person riding this beautiful horse is about twenty-five feet away from you now, and as you try to make out the face of this mystery man, it finally registers, Joel.

This sense of relief overtakes your body, you drop your bow right at your feet and you stand there in absolute shock, how the hell did he find you all the way out here?

“Joel,” you gasp as hot tears roll down your face.

Before you know it, you watch as Joel jumps off his horse and runs to you, when he finally reaches your shaking body he wraps his large hands around your torso and picks you up like a feather, and he spins you around.

Oh my pretty girl, babygirl, I thought I lost you forever, and what are you doing all the way out here? Spews out of Joel’s mouth, you latch your arms and legs around his thick body as you continue to sob into his neck.

“I’m so sorry.” You repeat over and over.

Shhh, it’s okay, baby girl, he softly repeats back to you, I gotchu now.

The two of you hold onto each other like that for a long time. You don’t know why you ever left Jackson, you don’t know why you left Ellie, and finally, you have no idea why you left Joel. All you do know is that you’ll never leave Joel ever again. Not by your own choice, anyway.

Tags: @evyiione @oscarissac2099 @southernbe @pedrosfanny

[venus-haze]

Ever Fallen in Love? (Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: You underestimated what you were taking on when you married Elvis, feeling more and more helpless as he seems to be slipping away from you at the hands of people who have little interest in anything but exploiting him. Despite your good intentions, things don’t go as planned when you confront Elvis about the people he surrounds himself with and his troubling reliance on the cocktail of pills Dr. Nick prescribes him.

Note: This is based on a request by @holy-minseok​. Reader is a woman but no other descriptors are used. This was more angsty than the yandere fics I write but still dark, so I hope I did the request justice. I did make myself kinda sad writing it. I listened to Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t’ve?) by Buzzcocks a lot while working on this. I used ‘vaporial’ at one point, and I’m not sure if that even is a word. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Depictions of drug abuse, violence, fighting, blood and generally dark content which some people may find disturbing or triggering. Literally the exact opposite of what you’re supposed to do for someone who’s struggling with drug addiction. Do not interact if you are under 18. 

Being married to Elvis wasn’t easy, as you stood in the long shadow of women who came before you, from the ever-present specter of his mother to his ex-wife of less than a year. You weren’t sure why exactly you’d agreed to marry Elvis after only dating for a few months, perhaps your bleeding heart over the man’s loneliness made you informally agree to be the one to help him emotionally exorcize his demons. Instead, you found yourself flustered and exhausted at the amount of people who, for one reason or another, were content with enabling your husband’s decline.

For as much as they claimed to care for him, you’d often butt heads with members of the so-called Memphis Mafia, finding as time went on they could hardly be considered friends, more like leeches. Having Jerry on your side helped, especially since he was pretty much Elvis’ right-hand man and had the same concerns you did. You didn’t trust the Colonel as far as you could throw him, and Vernon’s own disregard for his son’s well-being shocked you. While you certainly didn’t consider yourself anything close to a saint, you wondered how the hell Elvis ended up surrounded by ‘yes men’ who could give a damn.

You knew there were plenty of people whispering falsehoods about you in his ear—selfish, petty, gold-digger, to name a few. While your relationship with Elvis did start as a fling, you found that he was kind and generous, and it was easy to get caught up in conversations with him about everything from religion to the blues. Things became serious rather quickly, but you didn’t realize how serious until one night, when Elvis presented you with a gold charm bracelet with his initials hanging from the chain. The gift was meant to be a dainty accessory since you weren’t a flashy person and would often forget to wear the TCB necklace he’d already given you. Despite this, the bracelet was your proverbial albatross as the glittering EP tapped against your wrist day and night as if dictating your pulse. 

Of course you loved Elvis, perhaps to a fault, but his reliance on the prescription pills Dr. Nick gave him, most of which you couldn’t even pronounce, troubled you deeply. You understood why it was the final straw for Priscilla and knew how much of an uphill battle you faced if even she couldn’t get through to Elvis. To your relief, Priscilla liked you, and since she and Elvis were still close, you’d update her on how he was doing. You hoped that between the two of you, somehow you could get Elvis to go to rehab before things got even farther out of hand. 

It seemed hopeless, though. When you felt like you were making leeway during the months at Graceland with him, he was thrown back into the lion's den with his contractually obligated Vegas residency. The past month was enough to undo your convincing that he didn’t need the pills and was better off without them, because there was no way he could humanly perform two shows a day, three on weekends, in Vegas without something. While he welcomed you staying in Vegas with him during his residency, you had little choice but to watch helplessly as he slipped back into the destructive cycle. Part of you wished you had just stayed behind in Graceland, but that would have made you just as complacent.

The evening leading up to yet another set of shows in Elvis’ eternal residency at the International was more hectic than usual, conspiracy in the air as Jerry had rushed over to Elvis with urgency you’d never seen before. You could hardly keep up with their strides as they walked down the long hallway. Jerry was speaking to Elvis in a hushed tone, something about the Colonel. While you strained to hear what Jerry was saying, it must have been a bombshell, because Elvis stopped in his tracks for a moment before collapsing to the ground. 

Immediately, you dropped to his side, your hands shaking as you frantically wracked your brain as to what you should do. Everything was a blur when you started crying, babbling for someone to help Elvis. You felt frustration toward yourself at being so helpless in the situation, so close to losing the man you loved that it made you almost sick. 

Ice cold water splashed onto your clothes as Elvis’ head was dunked into a bucket a few times in an attempt to bring him back to consciousness. You sniffled as a nurse held his head up a bit as he slowly came to. The water did little to hide the cold sweat that had overtaken his body, his hand clammy in yours. He was exhausted, and the visible rage and a hint of fear that gleamed in his eyes when the Colonel rushed over made you move in front of Elvis, as if to shield him.

“I don’t think he should—“ you began, only to quickly be cut off.

“The only thing that matters is getting that man on that stage tonight,” the Colonel said.

“On stage? He just about died, and you want him on stage?” 

“Well, this is a Presley Enterprises decision since it affects tonight’s performance, all of the fans who’ve been eager to see his show,” the Colonel said, looking at Vernon.

“If he were my son, I’d take him to the hospital,” the nurse by his side said.

You nodded. “Let him rest, please.”

“I—is there anything Dr. Nick can do?” Vernon asked weakly.

You felt like you’d gotten punched in the gut. “You all should be ashamed of yourselves. He could have died, and all you care about is getting more money out of him until there’s nothing left of him. I swear to god, you people disgust me!”

“Mrs. Presley is clearly hysterical. Please, would someone escort her elsewhere,” the Colonel said, glaring at you.

“Fuck you! He’s my husband; you can’t do this to him!”

You watched helplessly as Dr. Nick grabbed a syringe out of his bag while you were being practically dragged away from the scene. Jerry wrapped an arm around you, and you covered your face with your hands, sobbing as Elvis was injected with whatever poison Nick had on him. 

Just as quickly as Elvis was helped up, he was escorted away, presumably to his dressing room. You couldn’t believe the callousness you’d just witnessed toward your husband. 

Sniffling, you looked at Jerry. “What did you say to him?” 

“I’ll tell you while we catch up with them,” he said.

You and Jerry trailed well behind the rest of the group ushering Elvis away, speaking in hushed tones as Jerry shocked you with his revelations about the Colonel. When you had first met the man, you expressed as nicely as possible to Elvis that you had a bad feeling about him, and he’d light-heartedly told you in passing that his mother didn’t like the Colonel either, as if it were some ‘girl thing’. As upset and outraged as you were, you couldn’t imagine being in your husband’s shoes, putting your whole career in the hands of a man whose existence was vaporial, only visible through lies and cigar smoke. 

There was nothing you could do about the Colonel, it was a business matter. As you’d frustratingly discovered not long after marrying Elvis, most people regarded you as vapid arm candy rather than his partner. You did have some sway in Elvis’ decision making, and at least hoped to talk him out of performing that night and to reconsider who he allowed to be part of TCB–his Memphis Mafia. Besides the Colonel, Dr. Nick was at the top of your shit list for how unaffected he seemed at your husband’s collapsing earlier. Wouldn’t a regular doctor order bed rest?

You felt like you had a cement block in your stomach as you knocked on the door to Elvis’ dressing room. The two of you had a secret knock, childish as it was, but you couldn’t help but give in to the mischievous glint in his eyes when he first proposed the idea to you. It was something you loved about Elvis, he was funny, always with something up his sleeve to keep things interesting and make people laugh. Perhaps that would contribute to his downfall, his need to please, to keep the peace and avoid so much of the conflict he’d experienced growing up. 

“Hey,” you said, entering the dressing room to find him sitting on the couch, still in his robe. “You doing alright?”

“Been better,” he said, giving you a tired smile that made your chest contract. 

“Baby, you don’t have to do this,” you whispered, sitting next to him.

He shook his head. “I gotta go up there, mama. The fans—“

“Can wait. You’re not feeling well.”

“I’m fine now.”

“Elvis—“

“Just leave it, Y/N,” he said. 

You closed the small distance between you and Elvis, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his chest. “I love you so much.”

He kissed your forehead. “I love you too. Now go on, I’ll see you after the show.”

You nodded, giving him a kiss before getting up to leave, feeling dejected as ever. Turning around, you took him in, your heart lurching at how visibly unwell he was. There was no way the crowd wouldn’t notice, certainly not the audience members in the front row. They’d be able to see him under the stage lights, how clammy and pallid he looked. In what you assumed would be the more unfortunate reality, they wouldn’t care as long as they got to see your husband run himself ragged for their entertainment while they threw back drinks–bread and circuses while you came so close to losing him.

The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on you. The world loved Elvis, but no one seemed to care about him. His humanity was an inconvenience to them, that he was indeed a man with physical limitations, was a flaw, not a feature. Those snakes would sooner parade him around on strings for a few extra bucks than let him get the rest he needed. 

While you normally watched at least one of Elvis’ nightly shows during his residency, you couldn’t stomach it after what had happened before. He hardly got much of a break in between shows, and so you spent the next few hours in the suite, your emotions shifting between sorrow and rage over the treatment of your husband. 

You considered calling Priscilla at several points in the night, but decided it could wait until the morning. There wouldn't be much she could do on such short notice, and even still, it’d take time for her to find someone to watch Lisa and then get from LA to Vegas. You wondered if Elvis would even listen to her. 

It felt like far too soon, yet not soon enough when Elvis finally returned, hardly able to walk straight after forcing himself to perform through two shows. You fought back tears at his state. He looked so tired and worn out, and if earlier was any indication, it was catching up with him faster than anyone expected. Logically, you knew it wasn’t the right time to bring it up, but you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Part of you worried that if you waited until the following day, it’d all be a blur to him.

“I need to talk to you about what happened earlier,” you said.

He waved you off. “Save it.”

“No, this is important. All of the shit about the Colonel is just the tip of the iceberg, and you know it.”

“Jerry told you?”

“I got the gist, yeah. I hate seeing you get taken advantage of by these people.”

“I can look after my own damn self, Y/N.”

“I just want to help you,” you pleaded. “I love you.”

“Then get off my back!”

“It’s not good for you, all the shit Dr. Nick gives you. Jerry agrees with me, and Priscilla—“

“What’s she got to do with it? She don’t want nothin’ to do with me, and don’t think I don’t hear you whisperin’ on the phone to her ‘bout how much you can’t wait to leave me too.”

“She calls because she’s worried about you. Sometimes she doesn’t hear from you for weeks.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes as you spoke. In the months you’d been with Elvis, he had never expressed such cruel disdain for you until that moment. You couldn’t even recall him speaking negatively about Priscilla, of all people. It wasn’t him, not really. You tried to tell yourself it was the junk making him this way, but your vision blurred with tears at the realization that you never really knew him without it. 

“Can you please just listen to me?” you implored. “You’re lucky all that happened earlier was that you passed out. What if it was something worse?”

“Then you get it all, mama,” he said, gesturing around the suite.

You looked at him in silent disbelief for a few moments before finally responding with, “I don’t care about that. Don’t you see how much you’re hurting me and everyone else who cares about you? Hey! Where are you—“

He shook his head, walking into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. As you approached, you could hear the rattling of pills in a plastic bottle and felt rage build up inside you, white-hot and blinding. You opened the unlocked door, smacking the multi-colored pills out of your husband’s hand. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked in disbelief as they scattered across the tile floor.

“Me? You’re killing yourself!”

“That’s my business!”

You balled up your fists at your side. “Well you married me, so your business is mine too.”

He stood frozen in shock as you opened several of the dozen or so pill bottles on the counter and began dumping them into the toilet. Sure, it was the exact opposite of every effective way to confront a loved one struggling with addiction that you’d read about, but if it was going to get his attention, you were willing to deal with the fallout. You felt a bit of relief as you watched the pills disappear down the drain when you flushed the toilet as you enacted what would probably be considered the worst intervention possible.

As you picked up more bottles, Elvis seemed to come to his senses and grabbed your wrist, squeezing in an attempt to make you drop them. Feeling the bracelet he’d gifted you digging into your skin, you haplessly threw some of the bottles at the mirror. You weren’t sure what you were trying to accomplish when the glass shattered onto the counter and floor. 

You heard Elvis grunt something about you being psycho as he tried to get you to drop the rest of the bottles. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of the struggle reflected in the hundreds of glass shards that littered the floor as you tried to pull your wrist from his grip. Fueled by little more than adrenaline and determination, you’d be damned if you wouldn’t see it through to the end.

“I’m trying to help you! You can’t keep going on like this!” 

“Help? Look what you did!” he argued.

Elvis was stronger than you, and you knew he could really hurt you if he wanted to, but even though he was holding back, the force from him releasing his grip from around your wrist while you were still pulling it back sent you to the ground. You landed hard, your forearms breaking the fall but digging into the broken glass on the floor on impact. 

He looked at you in horror as he saw the blood on the floor, fresh and coppery as it flowed from your arms. As he stumbled back against the counter, you noticed his knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of it behind him. His breathing was heavy as he took in the state of the room, the state of you, in horror. 

“Darlin’,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—“

You hissed as you sat up. “I know.”

“Jesus, let me call you a doctor.”

“Not Nick.”

He nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “‘Course not.”

Pushing yourself up to sit against the wall, you looked around the bathroom and sighed. If you didn’t know any better, it’d have been something out of a murder scene from the broken glass to the blood smeared in the floor. Perhaps it would end up being fitting, a physical manifestation of the death of yours and Elvis’ relationship. You doubted he’d want anything to do with you after what you’d just pulled and wouldn’t blame him if he ended up serving you divorce papers in the following days. 

You noticed your bracelet had broken and slid across the floor, his initials imprinted on your wrist from the pressure he’d put on the charm. You stared at the imprint, hoping your focus would distract from the pain in your arms. He hesitantly returned to the bathroom, chewing his bottom lip as he leaned against the door frame. It was almost as if he was afraid to get too close to you while the two of you waited for whatever help he called to arrive. If you were in his position, you’d be afraid of you too.

Taglist: @eliseinmemphis​ @crash-and-cure​ @kittenlittle24​ @im-lame-irl​ @loudwombatmugkid​ @rxsesss​ @roseymary04​ @queendelrey​ @jovialladyaurora​ @positivitylane112​ @moonknightswif3​ @holy-minseok​ @datsavageavenger​ @21bruhs​ @luckyevansstan​ @djsjs13949​ @butlerslut​ @ash-omalley​ @powerofelvis​ @sad-bisexual-bitch​ @peachy-deaths​ @kibumslatina​ @adoreyouusugar​ @raefoxiegirl​ @donnamarie23 @ilovehobi101​ @memphis-menace​ @animeketsu-yander​​ @phhistheloml @dkayfixates

[hchollym]

I saw your post about asoiaf character headcanons https://www.tumblr.com/hchollym/656295257177276416/who-are-some-of-your-head-cannons-for-characters and I’m begging for more Willas Tyrell headcanons! Anything you have! What is he into? You said he makes nerdy jokes. Whats his personality like?

How does he feel about the whole “potentially engaged to Sansa thing” and how did he feel when she was forced to marry Tyrion? (I cant imagine he would have been in love w her immediately if they married, bc she is 13 (3 years younger than Margery) and he is at least in his 24-27ish in current book canon)

It's been a while since I got an asoiaf ask, so this was fun! 😃

I'm sorry it took so long to respond though. 🙁

More Willas Tyrell Headcanons:

-He has brown curly hair and hazel eyes.

-He's definitely an introvert. He's very kind and genuine, and some people are drawn to that (like Oberyn), but he's not naturally charming or assertive, so he finds social situations a little more difficult to navigate.

-He enjoys astronomy (since he likes looking at the stars) and drawing/painting (since he drew pictures for Margaery when she was little).

-He's not great at expressing his feelings. He knows how to - he's very self-aware - but he has a tendency to hide his insecurities/sadness and keep things inside, because he already feels physically vulnerable due to his leg, and he's afraid to be emotionally vulnerable too.

-He loves all animals (including cats and dogs), and he always names them after historical figures.

-He can never admit it out loud (because he's a Tyrell), but he gets tired of the smell/sight of roses (they have far too strong of a floral scent). Because of this, he grows his own little garden of Iris Blue Rhythms (but he has it fenced off because they're toxic to dogs). These flowers are a pretty blue and lemon-scented (which is actually his favorite scent, because he loves how fresh it smells).

Headcanons About Willas' Thoughts on Sansa:

-I'm not sure he even knew about the plan until after it was ruined. Mace didn't know, and Olenna may very well have kept that secret close to her chest until after she arrived in King's Landing.

-Once he found out, he was definitely concerned by her age. Even by Westeros' standards, Sansa was still young for marriage, and since she was three years younger than Margaery (his baby sister), he saw her as a child.

-He protested an immediate wedding and argued for a long betrothal, and he only backed down when Margaery told him about the abuse Sansa suffered at Joffrey's hands. At that point, he realized that marrying her quickly was the only way to protect her, and he agreed because it was the chivalrous thing to do.

-He was horrified when he found out that she was married to Tyrion, because 1. Her age was still a factor, and he assumed that Tyrion would consummate the marriage; 2. Tyrion was a part of the family that killed Sansa's father, and he knew that would be traumatizing for her, especially because it meant that she would be stuck around the Lannisters for the rest of her life; and 3. He knew Sansa imagined a much "better" husband than a dwarf (and by Westeros' tradition, it was honestly an insult to marry her to Tyrion).

-He was also disappointed because he knew that Sansa was the best political match he could ever make, and even if she never loved him, he thought that she would at least enjoy Highgarden & he would keep her safe.

Thanks for the ask! 😊

[dumbasswhatever]

Responding to your unrecomendation, mine would be scum villain self saving system. It's a Chinese bl novel. It's about a reader, Shen Yuan, who got isekaid into the novel he hate-read, as the villainious teacher, Shen Qingqiu, that abuses the protagonist. Ofc he strives to do the opposite within the limits of ooc. So why it would be my unrecomendation is three point:

1. Resolving the protagonist dilemma.

So the protagonist, Luo Binghe, in the og novel is a tyrant with 300+ wives so he's kinda fucked bc of his childhood trauma. He's a paranoid, power hungry and lust hungry. So ofc Shen Qingqiu tried to treat him better in this one. Except that the author doesn't extend more than that. This kid has no friends other than his childhood bestie. Where's his other friends? Classmates? Bonding between children that can help foster good emotional connection and be a normal teenager? ZERO. Author wrote him to only rely on Shen Qingqiu emotionally and never addressing his previous trauma under the og villain. It's still there!! And it effects the whole novel!!! He's emotionally unstable.

Luo Binghe was so obsessed with him he literally kept Shen Qingqius corpse in his bedroom for five fuckin years, while SQQ junior tried to get him back for a proper burial. When he did find SQQ, Luo Binghe feed him a parasite that can track him anywhere. WTF.

2. The harem.

In og novel, all women are his wives. So what happened to them in this one? Well. They do get mentioned. But barely. One was an airhead but she got more sensible and thats it. Thats all??? I know bl has issues with how they treat their female casts but damn author you could've made them lesbians at the least.

3. Shen Qingqiu himself.

Personally I see him as someone who views the protagonist as a son/student so when people said "oh the characters said that SQQ is mourning for Binghe like a widow mourning for his husband >><<" i get pissed cause father mourns too!!! Teachers mourns as well!! Does platonic relationship means nothing?? Also even if Shen Qingqiu is an unreliable narrator, I can still read that how he views Luo Binghe. Definitely not romantic. Also the fact that he was forced to became Binghe's stay at home wife when he's literally THE Head of Scholarly Peak?? Who loves to explore and record weird plants and animals? Sir. What's the damn difference than a normal het novel then?? Other than no baby and pregnancy. What's the damn difference than the og protagonist having 300+ wives who were shut in his palace than this Binghe with a man who became a shut in? HEAD IN HANDS

I have so many grievance with this book cause it could've been better. Not even counting the teacher-student relationship and many other red flags that are flying actively in this book. I am tortured with visions. Everyday im gripping the sink, saying "It could've been better. But it DIDN'T."

Definitely do not recommend 0/10 dont do this don't read this book. Its better to read other things like a textbook maybe. Sorry if this is long i can only hope that you're entertained. Best regard.

i am very entertained holy hell thank you for the essay. also this book is O_O huh. the basic concept (like making a story/character happier out of spite) sounds like it could be a very fun read but then every single other detail you listed is like hoooooooly shit. this guy's got 300 wives and doesn't have a single relationship with any of them

[una-hive5]

TW// brief mention of abuse both mentally and physically/misogyny/

Is it alright for me to open art commission so I can collect enough money to get out from my abusive household?

Let's start the tips of the iceberg; my dad is a narcissistic traditional man, very influenced man at the area I live because he is Ustaz (religious teacher) and did a lot of Khutbah, even at my old school too. It seems he has ton of acquaintances. And everytime he meet the person he knows, he'll go to me and said "if you meet [name], go to him and sai you are my daughter." He also abusive husband. He beat my mother almost daily, he doesn't care when of where. I still remember he's answer when my younger brother asked why he hit mom. "That's because I want to discipline her. You see, women are stubborn. They need a few beating to actually obey you." He doesn't hit us, alhamdulillah, but he mentally abused us.

The way he raised us said a lot about him. My brothers can be very misogynistic sometimes, even said something like "but girls need to do that because that's your role in life." How my dad raised the girls in this family? Badly. He always said "girl belong to kitchen", " if you get good education, you can teach your future child." "When you successful and get a good job, I'm sure a lot of men want to marry you."

He care a lot about he's reputation. My sister, who got diagnosed have BPD years ago, being treated like a hopeless child. My sister want to get out from this house and even try to find herself a job but my dad never allow her because "you're sick". "you'll never get a job if you're sick. Whoever wants to hire you? You'll quit anyway, just like last time. Listen to me and stay here. You're safe here."

Next is my mom. All I can say is she is also my dad victim. Both emotionally and physically. But I cannot lie she is the strongest soldier I know. Even so, she is still my dad's puppets. My brothers are all hopeless.

For a very long time, I always want to run away from this broken family. I wish I can leave the house, dissapear, completely cut ties with my family. At least that's what I want. I have not yet decided on how much I want but I hope this post explains why I want money right now. I know I talk a lot about my dad here but he is not only influenced outside. He has a lot of puppets in this house. The longer I live here, the more it affect my mental health.

[appreciatingtokrev]

(Hideko anon) No worries! Take all the time you need, and whenever you’re ready, I’d love to hear more about your OC!

thank you anon i swear you don’t know how much i love you <333

anon... anon i love you for this ask <33 i am kissing you on the cheek thank you!! thank you so much for asking this!! you’ve enabled my infodump button be prepared putting the stuff under the cut bc uh. i started rambling it’s quite long :'3

oookay first of all, she’s inspired by the hideko in the diary of a boy who will never be missed, a fic on ao3 that hasn’t been updated in months (i think it’s been over a year now?). it’s a fic in which hanma gets to have all of kisaki’s diaries after his death and reads through them. so he also writes about his mother (hideko) sometimes. yep the name is from there too but the author said they don’t mind using it even when i p much directly took it from their fic. wanted to mention that bc said fic is a big part of why my hideko even exists lol

the other big inspo was another fic on ao3 called mourning sickness, an absolute banger piece about baji’s mother trying to cope with the loss of her child. also wanted to mention that because reading that secured my want to actually write about kisaki’s mother and thus essentially made me create hideko

soo okay i took so long answering this that the fic abt her actually is out now help. in case you didn’t see it yet, it’s of loving men and /loving/ men and if you prefer to read on ao3 there’s also a link to that :3

anyways since you asked abt her i might as well talk hideko lore. especially bc the fanfic is kinda crypic-ish and the narrative is non-linear. so. on the 15th of november, 1970 she is born in japan. her parrnts are both fully japanese, and she grows up as an only child. her parents, especially her mother, are quite neglectful because they are both busy with their work. though they are rich and buy her whatever she wants. not that that makes it any better- when she’s ten years old, her mother gets a job offer somewhere in europe, and immediately leaves her family for the job without even thinking about it. hideko hasn’t heard from her ever since. from then on, her father makes efforts to get closer to his daughter, and to spend more time together, though hideko is as emotionally absent as her parents are at this point so while they eventually manage to build a healthy relationship, they aren’t really all that close, and hideko still holds personal grudges against her father’s neglect in her earlier childhood. still, even now she supposes that her teen years were some of the best.

the next big chapter in her life starts when she’s 16 and meets her future husband for the first time. he’s half american half japanese, and he’d just moved to japan with his parents after growing up in america, ending up in the same class as hideko, so school is how they meet. he’s a very sweet guy, and hideko falls in love with him pretty quickly. they happily start dating on the 2nd of july in 1987.

the next turning point of hideko’s life is november 15, 1987—her 17th birthday. she celebrates it all by herself because her father is at work, her boyfriend is ‘visiting his grieving mother who’d just lost her husband’ (she doubts that that’s true. she never actually finds out if it was a lie or not), and all of her (fake) friends make up excuses as to why they can’t celebrate with her. it’s an utterly sad day, and it’s when she starts realising that maybe, none of the people who claim to love her actually do.

her boyfriend proposes to her during the summer in which they’re both 19 (1990), and she says yes. even though she’s noticed that he’s not as sweet and kind as he pretends to be, but rather physically & emotionally abusive, plus neglecting to some extent. but she loves him too much.

they get married on the 2nd of july in 1991, when she’s 20. they move into a big two-story house together, even if she’s alone most of the time because her husband works overseas and thus is away most of the time. she’s actually already pregnant with kisaki tetta at this point, who then is born on january 20, 1992, with both his parents being 21.

nothing really major happens until ten years later. during those years, tetta grows up with his father physically abusing his mother and neglecting both of them, as well as his mother neglecting him, too. hideko tries to show her son that she loves him, but she ultimately fails. tetta still has a relatively decent life apart from that, he always has more than enough money, has good food, and has a big room all to himself. hideko makes sure that he’s okay, they just don’t ever really bond. it’s a kind of similar relationship to the one she had with her father. anyways, after those ten years, hideko is finally sick of her husband’s bullshit and abuse, and she pushes him down the stairs. it’s more an accident than anything else, but he dies because of the impact, and she can’t help but feel glad about it, in a way. tetta is the only other person to ever know that she killed him (although it wasn’t truly her intent, she feels some kind of satisfaction) because she tells everyone that he tripped and fell down all by himself, but tetta saw.

her life continues similarily, they’re still rich, and she still has difficulties bonding with tetta. however, she actually truly tries now. she realises he’s all she has left with her mother gone, her father and husband dead, and no other family members that she knows. tetta doesn’t want to be close to her, though, so she’s mostly just miserable.

her life greatly changes on the 22nd of february 2007, when her son gets hit by a truck and dies. she grieves a lot more for him than her husband, and while his death actually relieves her to some extent (which she feels incredibly guilty about), she’s even worse for quite a bit of time before she manages to start healing. she meets hanma at tetta’s grave sometime after he gets buried, and they sometimes accidentally meet there after that, too. in my ‘canon lore’ that’s everything about them, but i like to headcanon that they actually start meeting up on purpose n kinda become found family? idk

that’s really all the lore there is to her lol but uh. she’s about as tall as 2006 tetta, has long, dark brown hair that she usually keeps in a braid, eyes in the exact same shade as tetta, and moles all over her body, the most prominent one right beside the left corner of her mouth! she eventually cuts her her hair to shoulder length and bleaches the underside of it a few months after tetta’s death

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Yo Bex I have a serious question for you since I was debating it with someone:

If someone has cheated on their partner in the past, can/should they be forgiven/trusted to be faithful in the future? Either by the partner they cheated on or a future partner?

I personally believe absolutely the fuck NOT. Cheating is one of those things that's just- you don't do it cause you didn't realize it was wrong. You do it KNOWING it's wrong. Its a decision, not a mistake. Now, I'll admit that I'm biased because one of my parents was a cheater who destroyed my childhood with their lies and secrets, but I think I have a point.

Most folks I've spoken to are like "oh you're too harsh maybe they've gotten better" but Idk. I still feel like cheaters shouldn't be trusted in a relationship. What's your opinion?

I personally think the issue is very nuanced. It isn't black and white to me because so many factors are at play, it really should be judged on a case by case basis as well as up to the people involved. If someone wants to take that chance and trust the person won't ever do that again and be faithful I can totally understand that, and if someone says no and that is a deal breaker than I fully get and respect that perspective too.

But to me, it's complicated. Cheating can mean a lot. Cheating can be fucking another person when you agreed to be mono, but I have seen some people insist that hanging out alone with a member of the opposite sex as cheating, because no one can hang out like that platonically right? Gotta love the people who assume men and women can never just be friends, sex always has to enter into it somehow. I've seen people who don't want their partner to have any friends of the opposite sex, which I personally, find insane. Also gross because the idea is that you can't hang with someone you have the potential to be attracted to without SoMetHiNg happening, (What does that mean for bi people like me? I just can't be friends with anyone?)

I'm not the best person to ask as to what should be considered cheating because I am polyam, extremely sexual, and open. I know the difference is my husband and I agree to all our boundaries and someone who cheats is disrespecting those boundaries but on the real dude I have watched and gotten off on another woman riding my husband right in front of me, as well as have extremely emotionally deep and intimate relationships with just friends.

My opinion is the spectrum is broad, humans aren't so easy to place in boxes, it depends on the severity of the cheating, how often it has happened, the age of those involved. I don't think someone who cheated on their first gf/bf in high school when they were like 15 should still be judged for that shit at 20 or 30. I don't think someone who cheats emotionally via getting support from someone who helps them deal with the fact they are trapped in a situation with a shitty abusive partner should be judged harshly either. A serial cheater is one thing, a person who made a mistake they have clearly changed and grown from is another.

I agree. Cheating sucks, willfully stomping on the boundaries and trust of another person in a relationship is terrible and I don't abide by it, anyone who has been cheated on that fucking blows and I am truly sorry. But I think people make mistakes, people are capable of change and growth, always.

I consulted one of my besties who had their own home life destroyed via cheating, causing a divorce and blow up and the rest and they agree with what I said above. That it is complex and nuanced, just so you know that someone in a similar situation to yours has a stance matching mine. My life wasn't destroyed by cheating, or at least I didn't know it till this year that my birth mother cheated on my dad multiple times when I was as young as six months old before they divorced, and I still hold my stance.

My opinion is, If someone can trust that person, then why not? And if someone can't, that's fine and not a failing on anyone's part. That is my opinion Anon.

[mermaidsirennikita]

What are your favourite Lorraine books?

Waking Up with The Duke--Heroine's husband was rendered impotent by an accident years ago, and the husband asks her to get pregnant by his best friend (who was responsible for the accident) so that he can have an heir and she can have a baby. Best friend is a famously great lover and has been in love with her for years. One of the best romance novels I've ever read, just transcendentally angsty and painfully good. Actually includes cheating (in a way). Guilt! Secrets! He comes like five seconds after she touches him at one point!

The Earl Takes All--At first, I wasn't sure about this one, but after a couple re-reads I think it's so fucking batshit and bold that I adore it. The heroine is pregnant when her husband returns from a safari, revealing that his identical twin brother died *via gorilla attack*. Except oops, that's not her husband, it's the twin, because her husband asked the twin to pretend to be him (yes I know it's a lot read that sentence) if he died in order to prevent the heroine from miscarrying. The identical twin is the rakish, sexy one, obviously, and the heroine DOES NOT RECOGNIZE HIM. Lies! Bathtub handjobs! Dirty talk! Gorilla twins!

Scoundrel of My Heart--Lmao this one made me cry so whatever. The heroine has a snippy relationship with her best friend's older brother, but asks him for help when a duke basically creates this contest to find a bride? She has to write in describing herself and selling herself as a future duchess. Over the course of this situation, she and the best friend's brother are obviously falling in love--and suddenly Lorraine Heath pulls the rug out from under you and throws everything into chaos and it's glorious. Very emotionally intense, features some "sexual activity even though he's still bandaged from a stab wound" content. I would HIGHLY recommend reading this before The Duchess Hunt, as that book is enhanced by reading this one, in my experience.

Between the Devil and Desire--Heroine is a widowed duchess with a young son, and is shocked to discover that her husband basically left the guardianship of their boy to the local gambling hell owner who has a horrible reputation. They end up living together and constantly clashing, while obviously. Wanting to fuck. (TW: discussion of childhood sexual abuse.)

When the Duke Was Wicked--Heroine is a young debutante whose father has given her a huge dowry, which makes her a major catch on the marriage mart. In order to find a man who truly loves her, she enlists the help of a family friend she grew up besotted with, who has been this total slutty rake ever since the death of his wife and child. He.... ends up teaching her some things.

The Duke and the Lady in Red--Hero is a total reprobate known for holding orgies and shit, gets super intrigued by this widow and is even more intrigued to discover that she's actually a con artist. He remains quite into her, so he offers her an obscene amount of money in exchange for a week in her bed. But obviously, her secrets go beyond the con. Very romantic, very fucking sad, very good.

In general, to be honest, I recommend that if you have the time and patience, reading her books in order...? But that's totally personal taste. I just have had a lot of fun with her little universe. The Scoundrels of St. James books come before the Scandalous Gentlemen of St. James, and heroes of Scandalous Gentlemen were the sons of the leads in Scoundrels, and so on.

[teenageread]

Review: The Perfect Marriage

Synopsis:

Would you defend your husband if he was accused of killing his mistress?

Sarah Morgan is a successful and powerful defense attorney in Washington D.C. At 33 years old, she is a named partner at her firm and life is going exactly how she planned.

The same cannot be said for her husband, Adam. He is a struggling writer who has had little success in his career. He begins to tire of his and Sarah’s relationship as she is constantly working.

Out in the secluded woods, at Adam and Sarah’s second home, Adam engages in a passionate affair with Kelly Summers.

Then, one morning everything changes. Adam is arrested for Kelly’s murder. She had been found stabbed to death in Adam and Sarah’s second home.

Sarah soon finds herself playing the defender for her own husband, a man accused of murdering his mistress.

But is Adam guilty or is he innocent?

Plot:

Sarah and Adam have been married for 10 years. In those 10 years, Sarah made partner at a law firm known to get the most horrible clients off scot-free. Adam was a writer, and when they met his book was quite popular, he has not been able to follow up on that success. Sarah does what she can to help, celebrates his mild successes, provides the liquor to help his writer's brain, and even buys a lake house so Adam can go there to write and not be disturbed by the business of downtown Washington D.C. At the lakehouse, a house Sarah promises to come to but never does, is where Adam meets Kelly, a beautiful woman trapped in an abusive marriage. Adam and Kelly have their affair, full of love and passionate sex, Adam leaves her one morning in his bed, knowing he will leave Sarah for her. Not that he gets the chance, as police barge in on Adam and arrested him for the murder of Kelly Summers. Kelly's body was found in the lake house by the cleaner with multiple stabbed wombs making this a crime of passion. Where Adam was the last person to see Kelly alive makes him the number one suspect in her murder. Lucky for Adam, his wife is the number one defense attorney in the state and agrees to be his lawyer for the murder trial. As Sarah works through the emotions of proving Adam’s innocence while learning more about his affair, Adam tries to help as well by doing his own investigation with a local reporter. As the trial dates near and none of the evidence adds up, Sarah has to defend a man she can willingly believe killed his mistress in a crime of passion.

Thoughts:

Wow, wow, wow, Jeneva Rose wrote one thriller of a mystery novel. This book takes place from the perspective of Sarah and Adam, our married couple who finds themselves in a tough spot when Adam’s mistress is brutally murdered in his bed. Talk about some plot drama. One on the side we have Sarah who is in emotional turmoil as she goes through Adam’s affairs. She works tirelessly as a lawyer and emotionally as a wife to prove Adam’s innocence. Adam on the other side is a complete buffoon acting like a spoiled child and doing more illegal things to get himself out of the trouble he is in. This made the plot move so quickly and really drew you into the story as you wanted to see what Sarah discovered, and how crazy Adam gets. Rose's writing does take a bit to get used to, as the usage of swear words, and how Sarah hates every woman she meets in public, does draw you out of the story to question Rose’s style. It is not only the writing that takes you out of the novel, but the multiple plot holes within the series, and Rose definitely does not have a good idea of how police investigations work because there are so many things that just seem unlikely to happen. This wildly unrealistic novel can be a turn-off for some, but to me, it just made me more interested to see how this crazy story ended, and if Adam received the death penalty, because that's legal in this version of D.C. The one part I am disappointed in the most is the lack of trial, as Rose has it pretty much at the end of the novel and it only lasts a few chapters. Since the entire book is building up to this, I felt like it should have been near the ending, but gives us more time to create an aftermath of the story, rather than just an epilogue that happened years later. Given all the negatives, this novel is quite interesting, and it leads readers to guess along with Sarah to see if Adam did kill Kelly, and if not, who did? While it can be predictable at times, some of the twists were fun to get to and makes this novel one reader will not forget for a while.

Read more reviews: Goodreads

Buy the book: Amazon

[tangled-affections]

Just Pain....

I kind of hate how my life is going, I have no career, no direction of any kind. On top of that, I am married to someone who, in all regards to our relationship that I stupidly returned to, had made it his mission to never meet the most basic of exceptions. However when he meets the whole "Just say you love me, and mean it" or "Stand up for me towards your family, who have been spreading rumors/lies about me/us." He barely does the second one, but he somehow "understands, but it's just who they are and you should just don't pay them any attention."

But at the same time, because his parents stayed together for 30-plus years my parents did the right thing and broke up after there was no point or reason to be with someone toxic for them. Please tell me how in your culture it is right in the sense of being able to disrespect your relationship with other women who ACTIVELY go out of their way to touch you. But if someone, anyone would give me flowers, breakfast in bed, or whatever gestures of affection that you just could not handle in any sense of the word. That would be considered cheating or me ALLOWING another man to do something you should be doing but won't do regardless.

I have to keep giving and giving and giving while you take it all, while you give me such little shit, that you feel like you should be treated like a king because your mother did such a great job at raising a piece of a shit mountain goat of a man, which is an insult to the fucking mountain goats. It's just like, all the girlfriends, all the side pieces you were having phone sex with, and had the BALLS to tell people how amazing of a husband you are, and how to be just as amazing to men in your group. But if I found out or went looking for the truth, then I am the one at fault, and in your words, "It's your fault for looking."

How many more women were there? How many relationships were you a part of? Relationships with women who were either engaged or dating others? How many lives did you ruin because, as you say "I was just bored." or "It was just a game."

You were the first man I have EVER loved, the first person I thought would love me with all my flaws, and all my problems that turned out to be a mixture of trauma and Bipolarism. Things you used to get other women to feel pity for you, and how I was the worst person ever.

The fact that you called me an abuser, an emotional abuser on top of that, because I bring up things that bother me. Because I am SO emotionally fucked up, that it takes me A LONG time to process those words and feelings. The fact that I had to look up things on Google because I was so worried that I was doing something wrong, and it got to the point that I called the abuse hotline to find out, whether or not I was.

You actively tell people how you do all the cleaning, the washing of the clothes, etc. When you actually don't. I do 80-90-100% of the work, I take care of the dogs, I wash the laundry but I be damned if I ask you to do a simple task of moving the clothes from washer to dryer. BUT FORGIVE ME, for asking you to do anything that involves you doing a slight bit of work like going down the stairs to the basement while I go pee.

When it comes to the dogs, you take credit for something you didn't even do. You tell people that you trained them, bitch, my sister worked her ass off to do that, it took months. Months of my mother and I reinforcing the things they learned from her. Months that you did nothing, you drank with and without your buddies, you played and watched soccer/football. You get to act like the fun easy-going parent to them, because you never had to pick up their piss or shit, even after they were outside for two hours, just to make sure they used the bathroom to only have them piss and shit in the house for no fucking reason. And when I begged for help because the dishes were piling up, the chores weren't getting done in the manner YOU DETERMIND was acceptable for them to be done, and the fact that dinner wasn't ready AT THE TIME YOU WANTED IT. I was the crazy one. I was the one that needed to do 100% of the work even though EVERY MORNING I would have a panic attack in the bathroom tub before having to take them inside the rental. To only wash and repeat.

The fact that I gave up cleaning to such a degree that it's noticeable, that I don't maintain a room that is basically our apartment that is attached to the main house of your parent's home, people that use us like fucking tools because you are too much of a bitch to stand up to them. Now you say "Well, I am taking responsibility for the dogs." Fucking finally, but I still don't live up to the standards you set up and don't meet yourself.

I have let myself go because I know at the end of the day, I will probably never meet someone who would truly love me, BECAUSE I AM MENTALLY ILL. You know that, and you take that chance to rub it in, when you NEVER buy me flowers on Valentine's Day, not a single card with some decent attempt at words of affection even if it's generated by a fucking computer. Because I AM ON A BUDGET, but your mother WILL ALWAYS get flowers on this day, and let's not forget Mother's Day as well.

I know I can talk you into doing a dinner on the weekend that followed the holiday but, you won't have much to spend on me, because you know, you spent money on your mother. As someone who was always alone, as I was "TOO WEIRD," by the school population, I always had some sense that I would never find a decent person to spend that holiday with, that flowers and a card were asking too much for anyone in my life to get me. I should let go of it now, it's been eight years of marriage and there is no sign of it changing.

Love is only something I can find in stories, that I either read or write about. How jealous I feel for my characters that get everything I don't. If anyone cares to read this, use me as a story of caution, not everyone that says they love, means it.

[xaracosmia]

ꕥ — WELCOME TO MARE COSMIA, DURANTE "FLITTER". 🌓

ꕥ  — OOC INFORMATION;

name / alias: Jupiter // Bitt age: 25 pronouns: They/It/He/She ooc contact: no socials, discord user is tidbittraccoon other characters in xc: rembrandt howell (oc)

ꕥ  — IC INFORMATION;

name: … "Flitter" Durante age: 26 pronouns: They/It series: N/A OC canon point: N/A app triggers: Child abuse, pregnancy ment, apocalypse, family death, self harm, scarring, spiders

personality:

Flitter is a very self assured individual and has been for years, but they're never too prideful to accept or ask for help when they really need it. They are quite the listener, oftentimes actively interested in hearing anything and everything from the other party in conversation. They're extremely intelligent and strategic in the way they speak and behave, words chosen carefully and actions meant to speak louder than even those.

Despite all of this, they don't always tend to make the most sense, as their mind slips further away from them the more poison and venoms they ingest. They may seem more brooding than other times where they were previously very chipper, but they never truly mean any harm.

They are extremely loyal, and extremely willing to fight to protect those and that which it loves. They also have a tendency to be depended upon for plan of action, as when they have their moments of lucidity, they can be quite the formidable leader. Flitter is also quite battle hardened, able to pick a fight and back themself up with the skills to boot. They aren't easily excitable, but once they are, it's hard to get them to stop chattering.

something your muse struggles with: Trust, while they understand it's a necessary step in life, they find it much easier to tackle things on their own unless absolutely necessary

your muse’s greatest strength: Leadership, they are a natural born leader. They lean on the side of good morality, but they can see the nuance to life where most people only see black and white

history / background: 

Flitter used to be a very happy-go-lucky child, being raised by a single mother who'd left her abusive husband after their younger brother Desiderio was born. They grew up deeply loved, albeit a rough start. Both physically and emotionally, their father would take out his anger on his poor child and wife. They used to live in fear, waking up every day more cautious than the last. They were awfully good at hiding the problem from others, putting on a brave face for their mother even at only 5 years old.

Her breaking point, however, was when she got pregnant with her second child. Even Flitter could understand why she wouldn't be able to stay here and survive, so they both waited until the birth, planning and plotting throughout the entire pregnancy. Eventually, Desiderio was born, and it was only a matter of days before their mother would be able to get the bags packed and the savings out to get them away from her husband. 

Making an escape to go start a new life in a new country, they all establish a new household just in time for Flitter to get back to school. They got a new brother to take care of too, and the smile was no longer fake, but it was still one of their greatest strengths. Being raised by a wonderful woman, they began to thrive and become their best self. They were kind, and while still anxious in the face of confrontation, they were always willing to use their voice to help those who were too afraid to use their own. Extremely intelligent, they often aced their classes, even moving forward a few grades. By the time they were 11, they were in high school programs.

By the time they were 12, the world ended.

All they remember about the incurring moment was both the sky and earth itself cracking open. A beautiful light called upon the purest of souls, an all too cheerful voice telling those that remained on the planet,

"Your souls were not chosen based on your karmic count in life. You will never make it to Heaven, and thus your punishment is to remain on a broken Earth. Your mistakes will follow you, and you will suffer for your choices."

Nowadays, this event is referred to solely as The Rapture. Flitter was left behind with its younger brother, its mother having unfortunately gotten crushed to death by the debris of a destroyed home. Immediately, they jumped into action to get them both to a "safe" place. As safe as a world now falling apart could be. The raw power in the Earth, ancient and magical, began leaking out of the cracks and chasms. It created and destroyed, it beckoned and pushed away, it was pure yet unwieldable. It created beasts unseen, shadowy in nature or holy in brightness, sometimes both or neither, or even everything at once. The beasts culled many of the remaining bodies on the planet, humans' souls and heartbeats having been stolen the moment the world ended. To have a beating heart was to still be alive.

Flitter and Des's hearts no longer beat.

For years, Flitter wandered the broken and quickly dying, barren Earth, teaching themself how to fight and protect their brother. Over time, the sun became more and more harsh, resulting in the remaining bodies to adopt older methods of heat protection and hunting methods: Cowboys. This idea was brought up by a prolific group referred to as The Angels. They had found a way to harness the power leaking from the ground, referred to as karmic magic, able to inject it into people to grant them karmic power. The truest form of your previous soul determined your powers, and anybody seeking to further The Angels' mission of bringing back the Old World were favored. Flitter joined early on with their brother, eager to receive the benefits of protection and further training on how to fight. However, not everybody agreed that the Old World should be wished back, thriving on the idea of using this new foundation for something chaotic and new. This group separated, referred to as The Devils.

Wish power was found to exist in sentimental items haunted by the souls of those that didn't make it to Heaven, but died during The Rapture. If enough of these in great quantity were gathered, the head of The Angels would be able to wish the Old World back. However, with lower ranking Angels and Devils fighting constantly to get the Sentiments, the Angels leader's right hand saw no way to achieve ANY goal. Secretly, they met with the leader of The Devils, plotting to try and reconnect both Angels and Devils to create a better new world. They were inevitably found out, being condemned by their groups, their punishment being thrown into the pits of karmic magic.

They came out monsters still capable of thought, angry and vengeful. The previous right hand killed the leader of The Angels, becoming a new ruler with an iron fist and a cold heart. The Devils' leader became almost a shell of her former self, becoming sadistic and mad with power.

Flitter felt pity for the two punished for trying to better both causes, but they dared not step out of line as they grew with their brother under the thumb of The Angels. They waited until they were old enough to receive their karmic power, finally being granted them when they turned 21. It was an incredibly painful process, one they hadn't been aware of until it happened. They were granted spider-like powers, becoming agile and immune to any and all poisons and venoms.

They began to study the venomous beasts that emerged from the cracked earth, killing them to test their venoms on itself. It quickly realized its mind wasn't protected like its body was from the repercussions of regularly ingesting what it shouldn't. Its mind began slipping, but it continued to fight and gain items for The Angels, per its duty. One day, however, to celebrate their brother's sweet 16 in a meaningful way, they took him on a mission. Des was excited, having begged for a YEAR to be brought along. Well, he finally got what he wanted.

He was kept high atop a rock, cheering for his sibling while they fought multiple Devil members. Flitter hadn't been keeping a close enough eye on him while fighting, however, as one of The Devils made a move to attack Des. They weren't quick enough to save him. Even though they took the full brunt of the attack to their abdomen, it went through it, making full contact with Des anyway. The Devils made their getaway with the Sentiment, leaving a bleeding out Flitter and Des.

They woke up in Angels' headquarters, finding out that their injuries had been tended to first while leaving Des untreated, simply because they had karmic powers and he didn't, he wasn't worth saving to them. Des was rendered entirely comatose, with The Angels refusing to do anything to help him wake up, considering he was powerless. This pushed Flitter over the edge, taking Des and running away in the night.

Being deemed a traitor, they are now being hunted to have the privilege of their karmic powers revoked, and then be snuffed out. Unfortunately for The Angels, a spider is far too good at hiding, too good at lying in wait to strike. Over the next 4 years, they slowly began gathering Sentiments themself, hoping to create a NEW and better world for everyone, not at the selfish needs of Angels or Devils. They started to build a rebellion, becoming the leader for many stray souls that had been cast out as traitors by Angels and Devils, or who had harnessed karmic magic to give themselves cracked versions of the serum, or being sold them by moles in the groups.

They can't lead for much longer, their mind slipping further and further from them each day. The pressure makes them seek new venoms to strengthen themself even further, getting powerful boosts each time they did. Its mind just couldn't keep up though, and they knew they wouldn't be able to last forever while seeking out a way to wake up their brother. 

Will they make it in time?

powers / abilities: 

Power Boosts: They get strength, agility, or durability boosts from ingesting poisons or venoms

Spider's Silk: Able to create a highly durable silk from the tips of their gloves

Spider Bite: The fangs aren't always there, but they can be when they need to tear a throat out

inherent abilities: 

Poison Immunity: Immune to all poisons and venoms

Spider-like Reflexes: Able to react to stimuli quickly

Fleet-footed: Quick as a spider, they're extremely agile

Gut Feeling: Intuition came as part of the heightened senses, they can tell when something bad is coming

items / weapons:

spider silk lasso

dual daggers

poison vials

starting ability: Poison Immunity starting item: Dual recall daggers

extra: 

Height is 5'10"

Native hispanic Mexican

Never takes the bandana off their face

Has stomach scar they proudly display

Purposeful cuts and nicks all over mouth for quicker poison ingestion

Taunts enemies to "try and give them more than one scar", the belly one they display

Eidetic memory

They will talk your ear off about various poisons' effects, efficacy, and antidotes!!

discord id: flitterflvtter