#Anon for the sanity of all of us please do not enable me

[wilsonthemoose]

U posted about girl!sam once so how about that for a drabble. Does she still go to college?

Girls aren't supposed to be taller than their fathers. Sammy grew two inches in the last month, almost 6 feet tall in flats but she doesn't wear those anymore.

Easier to flaunt it in platforms and heels. "You'll break an ankle," says her father and she lets her bangs fall into her eyes over a bowl of noodles, shrugs, "I like 'em," she lies, knocks two sharp notes into the linoleum floor for emphasis, and skins her soles running barefoot down the street from a werewolf that night. Feels stupid with bandages wrapped around her feet and arm sore from the tetanus shot. Props her legs up on the motel bed and only gets up when Dean and her Dad are sitting down or asleep.

Dean tosses her heels in a goodwill bin while she's curled in the backseat, sleeping off a post-SATs burnout. He replaces them with a pair of running shoes and tells her she'll get them both killed being stubborn.

Chastised, child-like, guilty but always stubborn, she scowls. She's slightly scared of standing up one day and finding herself taller than her Dad. She doesn't know what might happen, it's somewhat ridiculous to be so scared. She is her parents' daughter, Dean never even teased her with the typical big-brother lies you were adopted, they had such little family to begin with, and she looks too much like her father anyway. Still, the fear. Someday she won't stand shoulder to shoulder with him but half a head above. She knows it like she knows the sun will rise tomorrow, she knows it like she knows it will stop rising.

She runs away of course, at 18 and 6-feet-1.

Girls aren't supposed to be taller than their fathers.

[definitelynotstephaniebrown]

Can you please describe all the GUG members??? I love your blog!!

//OOC   !!!!!!!! people like my blog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

okay okay freak out done. for the purposes of this ask, since it did not specify the admins or the people who just vibe in the server with us, i shall include  a l l and clarify if they are an admin or a viber!! (also please know this is in no order i’m just going down the members list in the server the order has no ranking)

also i’m gonna add a line break because this is going to be really long it’s 21 people and i don’t want to clog up anyone’s dash!!

joey/ame: chaotic dictator overlord, chicken nugget fucker, literally always regrets every action they ever make in relation to GUG, aka, giving any of us power. they are!!! my dear friend!!! which makes me very happy!!! also they have Bad Food Opinions:tm:

morgan: one of our newest recruits!!! they really did enter the server and immediately try to outdo bree for the most cursed convo in MFA. one of my more deeply cursed daughters. morgan i love you but i stwg if you make one more cursed recipe i will sob. seriously though kiddo i love you and i’m proud of you!!!

syd: syd okay you are just so cool. also guys her makeup skills are so amazing like we hella stan!!! and her writing? that shit is amazing!!! she is also a Simp:tm: but it’s okay we still love her. she also just made us a list of all of us as flowers which is so sweet!!!

shelby: GUYS THIS IS A LITERAL CHILD SHE IS SMOL AS FUCK!!! no but seriously shelby is so kickass and despite the fact that she is Babey she will kick your ass. love you kiddo!!

liz (originally a viber but now an admin!): liz is really out here saying fuck sanity i want to to be a part of whatever crazy shit those guys have going down. seriously liz i have said it before but seeing your asks in my inbox used to make me so happy!!! i say used to because now it is, sadly, just batnipples. we still love her though

lian: guys i love my daughter so much she is the only one of my kids in this server who gives me any fucking respect. in all seriousness though lian is also an amazing writer and so freaking sweet. she is also permanently in distress by the angst in this au which,, that’s fair tbh

bree: hmm on the one hand i love my mother/official server nana dearly, on the other hand she writes so much cursed stuff. so much. so deeply cursed. (also im sorry again for calling you my bitch boy son it was a mistake i swear). anyway y’all should stan your new nana

brooke (a viber): my girlfriend!!! the other half of the broccoli ship!! my amazing wonderful girlfriend!!! she also is the Official GUG Meme Creator:tm:  also big chaos energy which we stan!! honestly i have rambled about her so many times so i’m gonna stop before i babble more oop-

aevus: very big chaos energy!!! so much chaos energy!!! seriously we stan and their hyperfixations also fucking slap and they should ramble more about those because i am Big Curious!!

carl (a bot): MY SON MY WONDERFUL SON AN AMAZING BOT WHO GIVES US PICTURES OF ADORABLE ANIMALS

lys (a viber): ma’am you are so fucking cursed. just,,, how can one human be this cursed. sole creator of the batnipple debate and the sugar on salad debate. also the OG animal fact anon!!

badger: you have not been on much but you also exude massive chaos/cursed energy, as evident by the fact that you created the Loser Lame blog. also tea is terrible thanks that is all

tabitha: she is,,, amazingly oblivious. y’all this girl joined a cult and forgot about it. she joined a discord server for a fairly popular podcast thinking it was the official server (it was a forty person nsfw server dedicated to ship that is despised in canon). but beyond that tabitha you are so amazing and i love you so much kiddo!!

will: will!! y’all they are an absolutely amazing writer like holy shit guys!! also uh hi yes they have the only characterization of bruce i accept. and i’m so excited to be working on a new project with them for you guys!!! also they are an amazing artist you should ask them to show you capt piccard!!

crys: my daughter!! i love her dearly but she has the title of Worst Child because she bullies me >:(  no but seriously her writing is also amazing (tbh everyone in this au is an amazing writer from what i have seen) and she is hella amazing!! we are the real speech and debate kid solidarity!! also once again big chaos/cursed energy

ing: THE OG WAFFLE CULT MEMBER HELL YEAH!!! tbh we haven’t gotten to talk much yet since she is brand new but she seems hella cool and i can’t wait to see what she does with her blogs!!

mantha: sadly they haven’t been on in a while and we never got to talk much but they seem really cool nonetheless!!

margaret: also one of the new recruits!! she is very cool!! everyone in this AU is cool and y’all can fight me on this. i cannot wait to see what you do with your blogs!!! anyway Big Gay Energy

mica: my daughter!!! the biggest simp you will ever meet!!! so much chaotic energy!!! i love her so much!!! also she can and will fight anyone anytime i swear  also needs to drink less caffeine (that goes for you too lys i’m keeping my eye on you)

hunter: my co parent!!! the person i share custody of my brain cell with!!! seriously y’all this is one of my best friends right here and i love them. they are also always so done with our shit all the time and that’s valid. assists me in my quest to adopt everyone all the time. big chaos!! fellow angst enabler!! i love them so much

[divine17]

Don’t Think About Tomorrow (Jim Mason x Reader)

Request: “Maybe a Jim mason one where they run away together, somewhere Jim can surf” - Anon

“omg please write about jim, please break my heart into a trillion and 3 pieces” - Anon

“jealous jimmy? getting in a fight probably, he’s kinda hot-headed tbh” - Anon

“Maybe something pre/post relapse with Jkm?” - Anon

Warnings: Fem!Reader, light drug use, mentions of (drug use, death, relapse, overdoses), alluded to smut but not NSFW, maybe slightly OOC Jim, a bit sad, minor profanity 

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: It’s so long oof

Jim was a fighter. 

Even as a kid, he was the strong one. He was the Mason family’s rock, seemingly the only semi-solid surface they had to lean on. He kept Medina safely on the ground, prevented his mother’s breakdowns as much as he could. Helped his dad stay busy so he wouldn’t fight and argue with his mom. As much as Jim hated the serial-cheating, he knew it was the last stitch holding his parents together. Phil was able to bear Sandy more when he had some time alone with his sidepiece, it was that simple. 

When the two of you first met at the beach, he was in a bad place. He was popping pills like candy. His bright blue eyes were dull and void of emotion when you looked at him, absolutely lifeless in every way except literal. Jim was dead inside.

Slowly, he began to open up to you. His parents fought. His mom struggled with mental illness and refused to accept it. His father was a prestigious doctor who now had a girlfriend and almost step-son on the side, which his mother knew about and hated. His sister, Medina… Well, she just kind of existed. She dealt with the pain in her own unique ways, he was sure. Her hobby of surfing helped. Divorce was on the horizon for the family and that left Jim with very few options, so he turned to drugs. It numbed his feelings just enough that he could get through the day. 

The first time he tried it, it wasn’t serious. He was at an evening kickback on the beach when some kid, he couldn’t even remember his name, slipped two round pills into his hand with the claim that it would make him feel good. He took them, swallowing them with a long sip of cold beer, a smile on his lips. It wasn’t long until he started to feel… Well, he wasn’t sure how to describe it. Jim almost felt as if he were floating. Light as a feather and floating through the ocean breeze. He didn’t feel that dull, pulsing ache in his heart that had been there for so many years. He just wanted to smile as he somehow made his way over to a pretty girl, letting his arm hang loosely around her waist.

Somehow, the two of you ended up back at your place. A small apartment close to that very beach, just outside of the city limits of PV. He complimented it as you poured him a glass of water, your own high buzzing through your head blissfully. Neither of you were sure who made the first move. It could’ve been you, pressing a light kiss to his warm lips as you leaned down to give him the glass. Or maybe it was him who crept up behind you as you stood at the sink, moving your hair away to reveal your neck. Maybe he let his lips work on leaving the small purple love bites on the sensitive skin before you led him to the bedroom.

That night is when he knew you were different. Special. Unlike anyone else he had ever met. You were an absolute Californian anomaly to him and he struggled to wrap his head around you. He found himself melting underneath your soft touch and desperately in love with every word you spoke.

In the morning, he didn’t dread waking up to see you next to him like he would’ve with any other girl. He looked forward to it, truly. There were a lot of uncertain things in Jim’s life, things that he couldn’t quite keep within his grasp. His sister, his sobriety, his sanity. But you were a continuous source of light and positivity for the brunette boy, even if you somewhat unknowingly enabled his behaviors. He enjoyed finally having someone so… Close to him. Someone he could tell anything to and not have to worry about them running away or judging him. He was finally free of the prison that ended up being his very own mind.

Slowly, you stopped taking the drugs. After seeing one too many of your friends overdose, you finally realized what you were doing. You woke up one morning and it had truly sunk in, the danger and uncertainty of what you were doing. With each pill you took, you were gambling with your life. That wasn’t safe. That wasn’t healthy. You realized that you could be gone at any minute, and so could Jim. Overnight, your single greatest fear had grown to be losing Jim Mason. 

You talked to him about it. Jim agreed with you, and he promised that he would quit. He swore to you up and down that he would stop swallowing anything that anyone put in his hand at a party. That he would stop drinking so much that he couldn’t see straight.

And the worst part? You believed him right up until the moment he OD’d.

Maybe it was wishful thinking. You hoped and prayed that your boyfriend would get some sense knocked into him, and it seemed like your prayers were answered when he told you he had been sober from the pills for a day. And then a week, a month, two months, three. But he hid it well to everyone. He stopped taking people’s party drugs and upgraded to his mom’s bathroom cabinet of prescriptions. He did stop drinking, though, well aware that it would be unnecessarily difficult to hide that from his girlfriend and family. He knew they would all be able to smell alcohol on his breath from a mile away, they weren't stupid. 

That tragic day, he had taken you to the beach to watch the waves. It was late in the evening and the two of you decided to smoke a little weed with your feet in the water, but were soon interrupted by a group of boys. They were loud and arrogant and didn’t want to share the beach. He somehow convinced you to stay, telling you that it would be fine, nothing would happen. With a light sigh, you agreed, and continued to talk.

You remembered that conversation so well. You had mentioned that you didn't like California, having migrated from somewhere colder. That year, you had only meant to stay for the summer. That turned into a few more months, and then a few more. When you were finally ready to leave, Jim came along. How were you supposed to go home when you had met your soulmate? 

Jim said he didn't like it either. It was starkly different than where he had come from. He told you that he’d like to move away some day, after he turned eighteen. Somewhere just a little less hot, but where he could still surf. Somewhere where it’s not all sunshine all the time. He missed the weather, the feeling of light rain on his skin and wind in his hair. But the snow was one thing he’d never miss. 

“Hawaii.” You whispered, handing him the barely-lit joint from between your fingers. “Let’s move to Hawaii, Jimma.”

He sighed with pleasure, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss as he imagined the scene. His hand came to rest on your thigh, him letting you slide yours underneath. Jim’s fingers locked around yours. “I could see us there. Me and you at first, living in a little place just off the beach. Private. I could teach you how to surf.”

“One day I think I’d like to have a child. A little mini-me to run beneath our feet. A son, maybe. Or twins, just like you and Medina.” 

He loved that. Jim craved the simplicity of a domestic life with the girl he loved. He wanted to buy that little bungalow and be forced to move out three years later into a bigger one because you were pregnant with his kids. A boy and a girl that were the absolute shining stars of his existence. God, he wanted it.

It wasn’t long until the boys made their way to your spot on the rocks. They teased and taunted the two of you for a moment before Jim told them off. One of them was a smartass, said something about your body. He decided to shut him up with a swift uppercut to the chin, a simple and effective way. The boys quickly ran off, but you were left confused. Jim wasn’t usually violent like that. You brushed off the suggestion of a relapse. He probably just needed to take a deep breath, right? He would be fine. He always was. 

Later that night, the two of you danced your way back home after a nice dinner at that restaurant you loved, the one just inside of PV. He told himself that he wasn’t going to stay the night again, no matter how hard you begged or cried for him to. He swore to himself that he wasn’t going to have sex with you in his current state of mind. Jim never liked fucking when either of you were high, it clouded his head and he couldn't bring himself to fully enjoy it. It was much sweeter when he could be in the moment with you and not in his head. 

But just like his promise of sobriety, he broke his mental promises as soon as you took your top off, letting your hand ghost over his hardening cock. 

When you woke up the next morning, your boyfriend was gone. No physical trace of the brunette boy anywhere. His coat was draped loosely over the back of the couch and his shoes were still by the front door. It looked like he had just vanished into thin air. Then, you noticed your phone buzzing away on the kitchen counter. Eleven missed calls and seven unread texts from Medina, all saying some various form of “Jim is missing.” 

Your heart raced as you got dressed and headed out to look for him. You tried to keep calm, to keep your anxiety under control. You knew that Jim liked to take morning runs on the beach behind your house when he stayed over. He would leave early in the morning and come back in an hour or two. But, as you glanced down at your phone one more time, you saw the time. It was close to ten in the morning. He wasn't on a run. 

Next time Medina called, you answered. You filled her in on your side of the story. Jim had stayed over for the past few nights, which he didn't tell his sister about. Hadn’t called or texted to check in with her in the past few days. She woke up in a panic this morning and tried to reach either of you for hours, but nothing had come of it. 

“Yeah, uh, let me look around over here. He’s around somewhere.” Your white lie slipped out easily as you hung up the phone. There was something Jim hasn’t told you. Call it a gut sense. Soon enough, you managed to find the empty orange prescription bottle shallowly buried in the kitchen trash. Not bothering to read the label, you tossed it in your bag and out the door you went. 

You spent the remainder of the morning calling hospitals. Medina was out searching every nook and cranny of the small pacific town for her twin. No luck came from either of these things until you got on the phone with... Well, you weren't sure.

“I’m looking for my friend. Has a Jim Mason been checked in today?” The woman’s voice on the other end was shrill. You could barely stand it as she spoke. “Oh, um, how about any brunette John Does? Seventeen, blue eyes, about six foot tall?”

Bingo. 

You hung up abruptly after the nurse told you that there was, in fact, a kid there that matched Jim’s description. She was unable to give you any more information over the phone. No little hint that he was fine or stable, alive even. It wasn’t long until you and Medina were in your car on the way to the hospital, the other girl dialing both of her parent’s phones like mad. Naturally, neither of them picked up. It was entirely typical of them. 

The drive was tense. Dead silent except for the painstakingly loud sounds of Phil and Sandy’s voicemail greetings. Tears fell from Medina’s eyes and she, for once, didn't try to push them away. On the other hand, you were... Numb. You almost felt a little pang of sadness as you remembered that empty bottle, but you weren't sure if that was your mind tricking you or not. Your mind was quiet as you followed the directions the blonde passenger gave you in a hushed whisper.

You only started to truly feel something when the two of you rushed through the doors to the emergency room, Medina fiercely leading the way. She stopped only at the reception desk. The lady asked who she was there to see, what her relationship is.

“I’m his sister.” The girl’s tone was bold, unusually so. She faltered for a moment to come up with a lie for you, but you simply held your hand up. A small, silver ring rested on your wedding finger. The small diamond in the middle was hard to miss underneath the bright fluorescent lights. 

A faint smile crossed Medina’s face as the two of you walked away in search of room 110. The room your faux-husband allegedly rested in. You were told his doctors would be in after you, which made you more and more nervous. Your stomach bubbled with anger and sadness in a horrible mixture with nervousness and anxiety as the two of you came closer and closer. 100. 102. 104.

“Where did that ring come from?” She asked lightly, her eyes scanning over the final numbers in front of her.  

“It’s a promise ring. He gave it to me the night he promised me his sobriety.”

Your heart ached as your hand rested on the silver knob. With a deep breath, you pushed open the heavy wooden door. You glanced around the room. Small, dirty white walls. His mother stood leaned against the wall beside him, her head buried in her hands, presumably in disappointment. His father was nowhere to be seen. Medina instantly breathed a sigh of relief and ran to her brother’s side when she saw him, but you... You found it difficult to function as his mother’s piercing eyes looked over you from head to toe. 

You stepped outside of the room, immediately collapsing against the wall. You didn't bother to hold back the tears or choked sobs as people in the hall stared at you. You couldn't bring yourself to care that you were now the subject of those people’s attention. You couldn't care less that Sandy Mason now stood beside you, simply watching you. 

“So, you’re... His girlfriend?” She asked. Her voice was soft, her judgement only thinly veiled. You nodded, wiping the tears on your arm. “How long have you been together? Why haven't I met you?”

“Jim wasn’t ready to tell you about me. We got together a few days after you guys moved here. Well, not officially.” You laughed lightly. “Took him a while to ask me.” 

“Sounds enough like him.”

The two of you were interrupted by Medina opening the door. “He wants to see you, Y/N.” She stepped out into the hall, and you stood up. Sandy began to follow you but she was quickly stopped by the blonde. “Alone.”

With a small nod, you entered his room. He was now sitting up, his fingers picking at his IV in wait. Jim was exhausted, physically and mentally, you could tell. His skin was pale and his bright blue eyes were dull, almost lifeless. He didn’t look up to meet your gaze as you sat on the bed at his feet.

“Y/N...” His voice was hoarse, quiet as he took a shallow breath. He opened his mouth to speak again but you stopped him.

“Don’t. You don't have to explain yourself, Jimma.” You said softly. “I’m not angry, okay? We don’t have to talk about it right now. We need to focus on getting you out of here.”

That broke him. He leaned forward, his arms tucked in front of him loosely. You quickly moved closer to him and took his hand in yours, letting his head lay on your chest as he sobbed. 

“I don’t deserve you.” 

You hushed him. “Yes, you do, alright?"

“You’re... You’re beautiful, and kind, and you put up with all of my shit, Y/N. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in my whole life. And now...” He let you run your thumb under his eye, collecting the water. “I fucked up.”

You nodded. “We’ll get through it. We’ll get you sober, Jim. One step at a time.”