#drug abuse rehabilitation programs

[addictionnomore-blog]

Family members exposed to a loved one suffering from addiction are more likely to experience mental health disorders, domestic abuse, and financial difficulties. Depression and anxiety in children are more common among those raised by parents with addiction. If you or someone you love has been involved with drug addiction or alcoholism, there is help. Let us help you get into a treatment center that really cares about your recovery. Please call us to get enrolled into treatment before its too late. 1-800-513-5423 https://addictionnomore.com/

[roarwellnessindia]

Why Choose a Drug Deaddiction Centre in Delhi for Recovery?

Delhi offers some of the most advanced and compassionate drug deaddiction centres, equipped with expert medical professionals and holistic treatment programs. These centres provide personalized care, counseling, and a supportive environment to help individuals overcome addiction and rebuild their lives. Choose a centre in Delhi to access world-class facilities and start your journey toward lasting recovery.

[evokewellnesstx]

The Benefits of Residential Treatment: A Comprehensive Path to Recovery

Residential treatment is one of the most effective options for individuals struggling with addiction, mental health challenges, or co-occurring disorders. This type of treatment provides a structured and supportive environment where individuals can focus entirely on their recovery without the distractions or stressors of daily life.

In this blog, we’ll explore the benefits of residential treatment, how it supports long-term recovery, and how programs like Residential Treatment Texas at Evoke Wellness can help individuals rebuild their lives.

What Is Residential Treatment?

Residential treatment involves staying at a treatment center full-time, where individuals receive intensive care tailored to their specific needs. This type of treatment is particularly beneficial for those with severe addiction or mental health conditions who require a safe, structured environment to heal.

Key Benefits of Residential Treatment

1. A Structured and Supportive Environment

Safe Space for Recovery: Residential treatment removes the temptations and triggers of daily life, allowing individuals to focus solely on healing.

Daily Routine: A structured schedule of therapy, activities, and self-care promotes stability and accountability.

2. Comprehensive Care and Supervision

24/7 Support: Individuals have access to medical professionals, therapists, and support staff around the clock.

Immediate Assistance: Any health or emotional crises can be addressed promptly, ensuring safety and progress.

3. Individualized Treatment Plans

Residential programs provide personalized care tailored to each person’s unique needs.

Treatment plans may include Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy Texas (CBT), Dialectical Behavior Therapy Texas (DBT), and other evidence-based modalities.

4. Dual Diagnosis Treatment

Many individuals with addiction also experience mental health challenges like anxiety or depression.

Dual Diagnosis Treatment Program Texas addresses both conditions simultaneously for comprehensive healing.

5. Intensive Therapy Options

Residential treatment includes a variety of therapeutic approaches to address the root causes of addiction and mental health challenges:

Individual Therapy: Focused, one-on-one sessions to explore personal challenges and set recovery goals.

Group Therapy: Peer support and shared experiences foster connection and reduce feelings of isolation.

Family Therapy: Programs like the Family Therapy Program Texas help repair relationships and create a supportive home environment.

6. Skill Development for Long-Term Recovery

Residential treatment equips individuals with coping strategies, relapse prevention techniques, and practical life skills.

Programs focus on building emotional resilience and preparing individuals for life after treatment.

7. Holistic and Wellness-Focused Care

Many residential programs include activities like yoga, meditation, art therapy, and exercise to support overall well-being.

These practices complement traditional therapies and help individuals find new ways to manage stress.

8. Peer Support and Community Building

Living alongside others in recovery fosters a sense of camaraderie and shared understanding.

Group activities and therapy sessions build a supportive community that continues beyond treatment.

Who Can Benefit from Residential Treatment?

Residential treatment is ideal for individuals who:

Have severe addiction or mental health issues that require intensive care.

Struggle to maintain sobriety in less structured environments.

Have co-occurring disorders, such as depression or anxiety, alongside addiction.

Need a safe space to heal away from triggers and stressors.

How Residential Treatment Supports Long-Term Recovery

1. Addressing Underlying Issues

Residential treatment goes beyond symptom management to address the root causes of addiction and mental health challenges. Programs like Therapy Programs Texas use evidence-based therapies to help individuals uncover and resolve these issues.

2. Developing Coping Skills

Through therapies like CBT and DBT, individuals learn practical strategies to manage cravings, emotions, and stress without turning to substances.

3. Building a Support Network

The relationships formed in residential treatment provide ongoing support and accountability, which are critical for maintaining sobriety after leaving the program.

4. Transitioning to Aftercare

Residential treatment often includes aftercare planning, connecting individuals to outpatient programs, support groups, and other resources to ensure continued success.

Residential Treatment at Evoke Wellness Texas

At Evoke Wellness , we offer a range of residential treatment options designed to meet the unique needs of each individual. Our evidence-based programs and compassionate staff create a supportive environment for healing and growth.

Key Features of Our Residential Program

Customized Care Plans: Each treatment plan is tailored to address the individual’s specific challenges and goals.

Comprehensive Therapy Options: Includes CBT, DBT, group therapy, and family therapy.

Holistic Wellness Activities: Yoga, meditation, and art therapy to support mental and physical health.

Dual Diagnosis Treatment: Integrated care for individuals with co-occurring disorders.

How to Get Started

If you or a loved one is struggling with addiction or mental health challenges, residential treatment may be the best step toward recovery. Contact Evoke Wellness to learn more about our programs, including Residential Treatment Texas, Depression Treatment Program Texas, and other therapeutic options.

Conclusion: Why Residential Treatment Works

Residential treatment provides the intensive, focused care needed to address addiction and mental health challenges at their core. With a structured environment, evidence-based therapies, and a supportive community, individuals can heal, grow, and build a foundation for lasting recovery.

If you’re ready to take the first step, contact Evoke Wellness today to explore our comprehensive residential treatment programs and start your journey toward a healthier, more fulfilling life.

[sumiwarnashamuktikendra]

 It’s also nearly impossible to get rid of this addiction by yourself alone, you will need help and nothing will be more helpful than getting into a rehab center. This step can be the beginning of a new life. However, choosing the best de-addiction center in Patna can be confusing.

[scariusaquarius]

rehab masterlist.

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: Hello! This is a masterlist for my story, Rehab, featuring Avenger! Bucky and Winter Soldier! Reader. This list will be updated with every chapter that is released, so make sure to check back every now and then just in case that you missed something! You may also read it HERE on my Archive of our Own account!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate for any Russian written cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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Chapter One: Midst of Winter Chapter Two: The Dust of Snow from a Hemlock Tree Chapter Three: The Cold Earth Slept Below Chapter Four: The Edge of Winter Sky Leaning Over Us in Icy Stars Chapter Five: To Shake in the Surf of the Winter Dark Chapter Six: We Wait for a Winter Lion Chapter Seven: A Frozen Drop of Dew Chapter Eight: Winter Opens Air to Iris Blue Chapter Nine: The Great Cold Eye of Winter Moon Chapter Ten: To Regard the Frost and the Boughs Chapter Eleven: In This Valley the Snow Falls Silently Chapter Twelve: In Her Cold Arms Chapter Thirteen: Chionophobia: The Fear of Snow Chapter Fourteen: Breaking the Ice Chapter Fifteen: In the Cold of Night

[merwgue]

"Rhysand hasn't done anything wrong"

Here’s a breakdown of the actual legal crimes Rhysand could be charged with, based on real-world laws:

A Court of Thorns and Roses (Book 1)

1. Sexual Assault – Rhysand forces Feyre into non-consensual situations, including touching her and kissing her while under the influence of drugs.

2. Drugging/Administration of a Controlled Substance – He forces Feyre to drink faerie wine (a mind-altering substance), which removes her ability to consent and control her actions.

3. Kidnapping/False Imprisonment – Under the Mountain, Rhysand traps Feyre into a bargain that forces her to spend time with him, effectively limiting her freedom.

A Court of Mist and Fury (Book 2)

1. Sexual Harassment – Rhysand frequently engages in unwanted physical contact with Feyre, coercing her in various ways under the pretext of their bargain.

2. Psychological Abuse/Coercion – The manipulation and psychological control Rhysand exerts over Feyre could be classified as emotional abuse, which can carry legal ramifications depending on the jurisdiction.

A Court of Wings and Ruin (Book 3)

1. Trespassing – Rhysand repeatedly enters Tamlin’s lands without permission, which would be considered trespassing by legal standards.

2. Incitement to Violence/Sabotage – Rhysand knowingly encourages Feyre to sabotage the Spring Court while she’s undercover, which could lead to charges of inciting criminal behavior.

3. Attempted Murder (by Suggestion) – While not directly responsible, suggesting that someone (Tamlin) should kill themselves could be viewed as reckless endangerment or incitement to self-harm, which is illegal in many places.

A Court of Frost and Starlight (Novella)

1. Harassment – Rhysand's continued psychological harassment of Tamlin could potentially be charged as harassment, particularly given its persistent nature.

General Crimes Throughout the Series you can face up to a life sentence with :

1. Assault – Rhysand has a history of using his powers to physically and mentally harm others, especially when he forces Feyre into certain situations or physically manipulates her.

2. Torture – His treatment of the people in the Court of Nightmares, particularly through physical and psychological intimidation, could be considered torture or cruel and inhumane treatment under international human rights law.

3. Abuse of Power/Authority – Rhysand frequently abuses his position as High Lord, using his powers to manipulate, control, and coerce others, which could be considered an abuse of authority. (Hm hm, remember what happend to saddam Hussain?)

4. Kidnapping/False Imprisonment – By forcibly keeping Nesta in the House of Wind without her consent, Rhysand is restricting her freedom and movement. This can be legally classified as kidnapping or false imprisonment.

5. Endangerment of a Mentally Ill Person – Nesta is clearly dealing with severe trauma, depression, and possibly PTSD. Locking her up without proper care or therapy can be considered neglect and endangerment of someone with a mental illness, especially since she was using alcohol to cope. (Those teen-help programs.)

6. Illegal Detainment Without Licensing – The Night Court is not a rehabilitation facility, and Rhysand has no legal authority or medical qualifications to keep Nesta there against her will. This would violate laws that protect individuals with mental health issues from being detained in non-medical facilities by non-professionals.

4. Emotional and Psychological Abuse – Forcing Nesta into isolation and removing her autonomy could be seen as a form of emotional and psychological abuse, which has legal ramifications in many jurisdictions.

In a real-world legal system, these actions could be prosecuted as criminal offenses, including sexual assault, kidnapping, drugging, trespassing, harassment, and psychological abuse.

So yea, you're dear old boy would be in JAIL by now.

Now let's calculate The charges against Rhysand, if brought to a real-world court system, could lead to significant legal consequences. Let’s break down the potential sentences for each crime, based on common legal standards in many countries:

1. Sexual Assault

Possible Sentence: 5 to 20 years in prison, depending on the severity and jurisdiction.

Sexual assault is a serious crime, and the penalties are harsh, especially if the victim is incapacitated (e.g., under the influence of drugs, as Feyre was).

2. Drugging/Administration of a Controlled Substance

Possible Sentence: 2 to 10 years in prison.

Administering drugs to someone without their knowledge or consent is considered a felony in many places and carries a substantial sentence, especially when done to facilitate control or assault.

3. Kidnapping/False Imprisonment (Feyre and Nesta)

Possible Sentence: 10 to 30 years in prison.

Kidnapping, especially when it involves controlling someone’s freedom against their will (like forcing Feyre and Nesta into his control), carries one of the longest prison terms.

4. Endangerment of a Mentally Ill Person (Nesta)

Possible Sentence: 5 to 15 years in prison.

This charge involves negligence and the failure to provide proper care for someone in a vulnerable state. In this case, Rhysand locking Nesta up without professional help can result in significant legal consequences.

5. Harassment/Emotional and Psychological Abuse (Tamlin and Nesta)

Possible Sentence: 1 to 5 years in prison (for each offense).

Emotional abuse and psychological harassment can carry prison sentences if they lead to significant harm, especially if Rhysand’s actions contributed to worsening their mental states.

6. Trespassing (Spring Court)

Possible Sentence: 1 year or fines.

Trespassing, while a less severe crime, can result in fines or a brief prison sentence, depending on how frequently and aggressively it’s done.

7. Torture/Abuse of Power (Hewn City)

Possible Sentence: 10 to 25 years in prison.

Torturing or inflicting severe harm, even in a ruling capacity, could result in lengthy imprisonment under human rights laws.

8. Failure to Prevent Mutilation (Wing Clipping in Illyria):

Crime: Complicity in Mutilation/Assault – In many countries, allowing or failing to prevent acts of bodily harm, especially when in a position of power, can lead to charges of complicity or negligence. Clipping wings is comparable to physical mutilation.

Potential Sentence: 10 to 20 years per incident, depending on the severity of harm. Rhysand, as High Lord, could be held accountable for allowing this to continue in the military camps he oversees.

9. Endangerment of Women’s Rights:

Crime: Neglect and Discrimination – The continued allowance of these practices in Illyria could be viewed as a form of systemic discrimination and neglect. Failure to protect women from harm, despite having the power to intervene, would likely result in charges related to discrimination and endangerment.

Potential Sentence: Civil penalties and lawsuits from the affected women, alongside possible criminal charges leading to fines and 5 to 10 years imprisonment per case of systemic abuse.

10. Complicity in Abuse and Torture (Hewn City):

Crime: Torture/Degrading Treatment – As the ruler of the Night Court, Rhysand maintains direct control over the Hewn City but allows its brutal social system to continue, particularly against women. Even though he doesn't directly participate in the abuse, turning a blind eye to it could result in complicity in human rights abuses or crimes akin to torture, especially since Hewn City is described as being "hell for women."

Potential Sentence: 10 to 25 years in prison for each case of torture or degrading treatment, with possible civil lawsuits and heavy fines.

11. Denial of Safe Haven and Equal Rights:

Crime: Violation of Human Rights – Women from Hewn City are barred from escaping their abusive environments, and Rhysand’s refusal to allow them into Velaris essentially traps them in dangerous situations. In the real world, denying refuge or asylum to those in danger can be classified as a violation of human rights.

Potential Sentence: 5 to 10 years for human rights violations, with additional civil penalties from lawsuits if women can prove they were harmed as a result of being denied safety.

Crimes Against Humanity – While not on the same scale as mass genocide or war crimes, the endangerment of entire groups of women through neglect, allowing mutilation, or complicity in torture can still fall under human rights violations. Such crimes are serious, and while they may not lead to a death sentence, they would likely result in long-term imprisonment, potential international condemnation, and severe civil penalties.

Maximum Sentence: If these charges were to be tried separately and consecutively, Rhysand could face up to 80 to 100+ years in prison

Likely Sentence: In a real-world legal system, some of these sentences may be served concurrently (at the same time), leading to a likely total sentence of 25 to 40 years in prison, depending on how the crimes are classified and judged.

Additionally, he would likely face civil penalties, lawsuits from the victims (e.g., Feyre and Nesta), and substantial fines.

Thank you for reading, if you want me to do any other character just say in the comments!❤️ (this took me over 2 days to research but I had my amazing dad helping me!♥️)

[darlingdekarios]

bending to the honeysuckles.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 17,216 content: William "Ironhead" Miller x f!reader, reader has a prior drug addiction, drug addiction recovery, drug rehab, mentions of past abuse in a relationship, pining, fluff, Will is a simp, smut [oral, unprotected p in v]

while you insist you don't want a relationship, Will Miller falls for you like it's his destiny to do so. he's willing to meet you where you are while he waits for you to let him love you.

Life had been hell for Frankie Morales since he’d returned from Colombia. While he was able to keep decent control of himself for the first couple of weeks, the things he’d done caught up to him – they always did. He’d retreated into himself, away from his friends and into the confines of his house, numbing his feelings with whatever he could. At first, it was several beers every day, and when that wasn’t enough it was liquor. When the liquor wasn’t enough, he’d remembered what could truly help him – cocaine – and it had all just sort of spiraled from there. 

Three months after his return home Frankie staggered into his birthday dinner with dilated pupils, a running nose and an air of confidence only to be met with an intervention from Pope, Benny, and Ironhead. The reminder of how pathetically few people cared about him stung initially, but he quickly remembered he deserved even less than that. He found himself in a rehabilitation program then, spending the next 90-days of his life with far-too-nice people trying to help him get his shit together. 

As he expected, Santiago had taken up residence in his spare bedroom in Frankie’s absence, deciding to stick around in the states to ensure his best friend actually recovered this time, found a career for himself, and didn’t lose his house. He’d started attending a group session for recovering cocaine addicts the same week, and that was where he’d met you. 

You were at least a decade younger, quiet until you were directly spoken to, and sarcastic and quick when it was your turn to talk. The message deciphered from your introduction of yourself was that you had just moved to take over your grandfather’s company, you were coming up on six years of sobriety, and you did not like to be around people. His second meeting, a week later and your six months of sobriety, you’d approached him at the end of the meeting to propose being his sponsor. 

The two of you had been friends since. Wednesday nights you met for dinner before you made your way to group together, and Sunday nights you had a quick phone call to check-in with one another. As much as it helped Frankie to have someone outside of the Delta Force to understand his situation – that he trusted to understand him – it helped you just the same. You had moved to the area a month ago and finding people tolerable was difficult. He quickly became your closest friend, and he was more than happy to introduce you to the other people in his life. 

When Will had first suggested coming along to group with Frankie to offer some support, it was a surprise when the older man agreed and mentioned you immediately, almost proud to have someone to introduce to the man he looked up to so much. You’d agreed it was fine to skip dinner that week so Frankie could come along with Will, almost relieved for the extra time alone between work and group. It gave you a chance to shower and change into something a little better than your pink work overalls, ready to meet the first additional person in Frankie’s life. 

Frankie walked in much later than he normally would, and while you would normally jokingly call to him from across the room for cutting it close, you lost whatever wit you’d planned on using when your eyes landed on the gorgeous blonde following behind your friend. When Frankie spotted you he raised a hand to wave, which you returned feebly, eyes a little too focused on the newcomer. 

“We’re cutting it close, I know,” Frankie breathed when he approached you, your senses suddenly returning and forcing you to your feet in politeness. “This is Will. Will, this is my friend I’ve been telling you about.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you were late for your own birth, Frankie,” you greeted him with a quick hug, fixing your eyes on Will with a smile as you mentally swooned under the gaze of his blue eyes. “Nice to meet you, Will.”

William Miller did not get distracted.

When he had a responsibility – a job to complete – Will was laser-focused, in-control, and driven. Whether he was in an active combat zone or giving a speech to a group of veterans trying to rejoin society, he was always able to stay on the task at hand until he’d completed it – until he’d excelled at it. Tonight, his task was to support his friend, his brother, Frankie – and tonight was the first time in months he felt he’d truly failed at his task. 

He couldn’t pull his attention away from you for the next two hours. No matter who was talking, even Frankie, Will found his eyes glancing to you, eager to see your reactions and expressions and your body language. On one particularly long-winded monologue from a woman about how she had just tried cocaine for fun, and it ended up ruining her marriage (she cheated on her husband, that’s what really ruined the marriage), you rolled your eyes in Will’s direction while mouthing:

“Are you having fun yet?” Will nearly laughed at the question but opted to respond with a much more situationally appropriate light smile and subtle thumbs up. Your eyes flashed with mischief as you mouthed again. “Liar.”

He couldn’t get you out of his head after that meeting and found himself asking Frankie if he could go with him again the next week, and again, and soon enough he was a regular supporter of the meeting, showing up early to set up snacks and coffee and keeping track of the sign-in sheet. Each time he found himself falling more and more into whatever trap you’d seemingly laid out just for him, and even though he really didn’t get the chance to talk with you much, his interest was sparked enough to want to get to know you more. It was after the fourth meeting he’d joined that he lingered in the parking lot with you even after Frankie had left. 

That was the night he’d begun to understand the depth of his fascination with you. Sitting in his trunk bed drinking bottles of water Will permanently kept in his backseat he marveled in you as you opened up to him and showed him who you were…at least as much as you were willing to share. As much as he hung on your every word, you did the same for him, unable to look away from his face as he spoke and enamored by the things he told you about himself. 

“I like hanging out in parking lots with you, Will Miller,” you’d complimented, eyes sparkling under the full moon’s light. “You’re good company.”

“Yeah, we should do it again sometime,” came his reply before he could stop it. Reaching to scratch the back of his neck, he opted to continue – there was no going back now. “Maybe the parking lot of a restaurant…after dinner?”

You felt your cheeks burn immediately and, even more embarrassing, the smile that spread across your face like the sun breaking through clouds on a stormy day. All too soon, though, the clouds returned, the melancholy filling your voice. “I’d love to say yes but I…can’t. I’m not looking for anything serious right now with…well, everything. And I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”

While it wasn’t the reason you’d given, on your drive home you had to think about the fact that Will Miller deserved far more than a recovering addict who was just figuring out how to really take care of herself. If you had only seen his thoughts on his own drive, about how long he’d wait until you were ready, you may have turned around and given into him. 

Things settled a bit over the coming weeks. You offered Frankie a job helping you out with jarring the honey and making local deliveries for you, which he’d been happy to accept in the meantime until he could get his license back. It was nice to have him around – he was often the one to remind you to take a moment to hydrate, but he never bothered you while you worked. He even took it upon himself to make some minor repairs to your barn in some of his spare time. Another month had passed faster than you could believe, the time filled with settling into your business and spending time with Frankie and his best friend, Santiago. 

Frankie had offered many times – at least once per week – for you to join them for drinks, or dinner, or at the beach. You’d refused every offer, unwilling to face Will again for fear of your wavering resolve. But this week, a Friday, it was different when Frankie asked you to join them before he headed out in the morning to spend his day making deliveries. The loneliness was finally catching up to you, and you figured some time out with other people would serve you well. Plus, despite the bickering you and Santi often found yourselves in, you knew Frankie surrounded himself with good people, and you could trust spending time with them. You agreed to let him pick you up at 7:30, and he agreed with a nod and a smile. Even if you had a miserable time, at least going would ensure Frankie’s happiness for the night.

By the time Frankie’s shitty truck had pulled into the driveway of the old farmhouse you now found yourself living in, you were moments away from sending a text that said you’d changed your mind, the nerves of your horrible day making you dread an unfamiliar place. As you pulled a jacket on and locked the door behind you a sigh released from your lips before you began to make your way to him. While you were finalizing your mental argument about whether it was too late to cancel you saw Frankie’s face peering out of the driver’s side window, an earnest smile on his lips. He was unrelentingly kind and made the decision you faced easy – there was no way you could cancel on Frankie Morales and sleep at night.

“Hiya, Crankie,” you greeted as you climbed into the front seat, rolling the window down before you’d buckled yourself in. Your use of the nickname you’d bestowed upon Frankie made the man shake his head, a quiet laugh sounding as he began the drive.

“Hi, abejita,” came his usual reply, glancing out of the corner of his eye to take in more of your expression. You’d obviously tried to get in the mood to go out, but the tired expression was one Frankie recognized – you probably just wanted to be alone tonight, and yet you were still seated next to him. “Didn’t sleep well last night?”

Of course he knew – he always did. The two of you had spent the last few months bonding over a similar addiction background, and it was nice to have someone that truly understood you. There were no niceties with you and Frankie, and it was the reason the two of you had become such close friends.

“Oh, you know me, Francisco…’I’ll sleep when I’m dead,’ yada yada yad,” you turned your head toward him, offering a falsely reassuring smile. “What’s your excuse? I swear there’s at least five more greys in your hair.”

“I only counted three this morning,” he matched your taunting, chuckling softly at your joking. 

“Yeah, well, I’ve told you that you need glasses, and this just proves my point,” you joked, rolling your head back the other way to rest it on the cool glass of the window. “I probably shouldn’t even let you drive me around…talk about self-destructive behaviors.” 

He laughed again and the comfortable silence set in, the rest of the drive to he and his friends’ chosen bar passing with light conversation about your days, and both of you agreeing to keep one another to the one drink maximum you’d set. Frankie thanked you for deciding to come with him, and it was a sincere show of appreciation – having someone unbiased and understanding of his situation there to support his recovery was important. And, truthfully – he was helping yours just as much. 

Plus, there was the promise of seeing Will again. While it was annoying, it was also impossible to admit that the mere thought of seeing his pale blue eyes again in the flesh caused your stomach to fill with butterflies. It was ridiculous – you’d meant what you said when he’d asked you out a month ago, you didn’t want to pursue anyone or be pursued right now. That didn’t stop you from thinking about his sparkling blue eyes, or the lines of his smile, or how he’d looked at you like you were the only thing he wanted to look at. You wanted to see him, and could only hope, maybe cruelly, that he wanted to see you as well. 

“What are you over there thinking about, abejita?” Frankie pulled you back to reality with a quiet voice as you pulled into the bar parking lot, glancing over at you briefly. “You didn’t complain about my driving at all.”

You smiled and shook your head, unwilling to admit to Frankie you’d been thinking about one of his best friends – one of his brothers. The question of whether Will had told them about asking you out flashed through your mind, and fortunately Frankie shifting his truck into park gave you a feasible reason to not answer his questioning. “Let’s go do this. And remember, if someone offers you cocaine in the bathroom…just say no.”

Frankie laughed in bewilderment nearly the entire way into the bar, a bright smile still spread across his face when the two of you made your way through the door. The sounds of Metallica from the jukebox confirmed Santiago was there before your eyes even landed on the mess of grey and black atop his head, drifting over to the golden locks of Benny Miller with his girlfriend sat beside him. As you walked toward their table you released a sigh of relief, though at the same time your stomach knotted in disappointment – no Will. 

After your hellos and introduction to Benny’s girlfriend, Frankie excused himself to grab both of you a soda from the bar to start with – it was refreshing to see that this group didn’t even bat an eye at the two of you not ordering alcohol, and you had to mentally commend Frankie for his taste in company. Leaning on the counter height table with an elbow you met Santiago’s lingering gaze. 

“You better not be standing to do what I think you’re going to do,” he warned, his words met with a mischievous smile from you. His arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowing at your body language. 

“Oh, I’m definitely standing to do what you think I’m going to do,” you taunted, sticking out your leg slightly to block him into the booth. “And you are just going to have to deal with it, Santiago.”

His hand twitched toward the glass of dark liquid in front of him, taking a sip as his eyes stayed on yours. You offered another smile, lazily drumming your fingernails on the table beneath you. Benny’s voice interrupted the stare down, both of you turning to look at him. “I’m sorry, what is happening here?”

“I refuse to subject the people of this bar to Santiago’s Greatest Hits playlist all night. I’m picking the next song,” you replied, offering another smile to the man you were blocking in the booth. Benny was the first laugh you heard, but from behind you another laugh rumbled – and Frankie still hadn’t returned from the bar. 

“Nice to see someone keeping Pope in his place,” the older Miller brother commented from behind you, immediately sending a chill up your spine and a rush of heat to your cheeks. Forgetting to leave your leg planted you turned to greet him with a smile, eyes brighter than they should be for someone who’d turned him down a month earlier. He didn’t care to hide the smile he offered you back. “Sorry I’m late. Got a little hung up at work, hope I didn’t miss anything.”

Your willingness to spar faltered, and all you could manage under his gaze was a nod, your bottom lip pulling between your teeth. He turned to greet Benny, who had stood, with a hug before saying a quick hello to Danielle and offering her a gentle hug. Even Santiago got a quick version of a hug. You tried to ignore the jealousy that twisted your stomach. 

“You were just about to miss the musical showdown of the century,” Benny remarked, planting himself back into the booth with an arm around Dani’s shoulders. “Someone is finally standing up to Santiago’s musical monopoly.”

“Just because you people don’t know how to appreciate the American classics,” Santiago began, ready to fling himself into a grandiose monologue before Benny beat you to the punch, entering an argument with the older man about the definition of “classics”. You took that as your sign to exit to the juke box, unnoticed by Santi, but not unnoticed altogether – William had followed closely behind you. 

“Are you my escort for the evening, Mr. Miller?” you questioned, attempting a playful tone to cover the nerves you felt around him. “I don’t think I’d get lost on the way to show up Santiago. There’s too much at stake.”

Another laugh rumbled in his chest – it was nice to make someone laugh as much as you made him. “The buttons on that old thing stick sometimes, and I wanna make sure you can use it.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little slowing down your steps to join at his side and glancing up at him as you walked. He had to mentally remind himself not to wrap an arm around you, no matter how badly he wanted to. “You know, helping me figure out the machine makes you an accomplice. I wonder how Santiago will feel about your mutiny.”

“Probably about the same way he feels about most things.”

“Forlorn and personally affronted?”

He laughed again in response, siding up to the juke box with you. He allowed you a moment to get your bearings on the machine, and though you likely quickly realized his white lie about the buttons sticking, you didn’t call him on it. “I was happy when Fish said you were coming out,” he admitted, leaning on the machine on his side next to you. When you broke concentration to meet his gaze briefly, he had to remind himself to breathe. 

“I almost cancelled. Had a bad day at work and didn’t want to look miserable and stupid,” you replied with a shrug, returning your focus to the juke box and flipping through albums. What Will wanted to do was sit down somewhere quiet with you and talk to you about your day, to listen to whatever complaints you wanted to hurl to a listening ear – but it wasn’t the time or place. He lowered his voice as Santiago’s previous choice finished up. 

“Miserable may be one of the last words I’d use to describe how you look,” he drawled, removing his appreciative glance from you to focus on what album you’d sought out. He felt you glance upward at him and could swear he heard the quick catch of your breath. 

“You’re very distracting,” you joked, eager to break this tension. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth slightly in an attempt to stifle the smile that was threatening to break under his attention, but it was to no avail – your burning cheeks gave away the fluttering in your stomach enough. “It’s impossible to put Santiago to shame when I can’t focus on this very important song decision.”

He hummed in understanding, nodding his head as he fixed his eyes on you again. Gazing up into the blue pools that waited expectantly you were met with a slightly raised eyebrow. It was infuriating how he managed to look effortlessly flawless. “Should I go back to the table and leave you to it, then?”

“No,” came an embarrassingly immediate reply. “No, just…shut up. Stand there and…keep…looking like a fucking magazine cover, but shut up.”

Will smiled first, a rumbling laughter sounding in his chest. It was impossible not to smile at the laugh you’d pulled from him, eyes taking in the lines of his smile at the corners of his mouth and own eyes. You felt the pull at your heart and had to swallow down the feelings building in your chest, forcing yourself to look back at the juke box – though the smile he’d earned lingered as well. He wanted to reach out to touch you in the short summer dress you’d worn, to hold you closer to him with a hand on your hip – but it wasn’t his place to do so.

Once you’d queued up your song choice you made your way back to the table with Will, glad to see Frankie had returned with a lemonade for you. When you slid into the booth you were delighted to have Will slide up next to you, the warmth continuing to pool from him. As he moved in a little closer, perhaps, than he needed to your song choice began to play over the speakers.

“No way she’s embarrassing you with Donovan right now, Pope!” Benny called, his laughter loud over the music. You smiled a victorious smile across the table at him, eyes bright now that you had confirmation at least one other person at the table agreed with you. 

“She thought really hard about her decision,” Will added, taking a drink of the bottled beer sat in front of him. You nudged him with your elbow lightly adding in a playful eye roll. 

“I took my duty serious,” you explained before turning your attention back to Benny. “At least someone in this group has good taste. Sometimes Frankie’s music is shit, too.”

“Hey now,” the named man intervened, offering a raspy laugh at your call-out. 

“You could try to tell me I’m wrong, but you haven’t reached six months of sobriety yet and your opinions are, understandably, questionable,” you joked, giving him a playful nudge to communicate you were joking if it wasn’t clear. 

“So, you have Frankie working down at the…is it called a bee farm?” Benny questioned, pulling Dani in closer to plant a kiss to the top of her head. In the far end of the booth Santiago rolled his eyes, scoffing out a laugh as Frankie nodded.

“Yeah, I took over the business…about five months ago now. It was my grandfather’s, and he passed away,” you explained, taking a drink of your lemonade and wishing you’d had Frankie get you something stronger to get you through the questioning. “I was looking to move, anyway so it…kind of worked out, though I’m not sure my grandpa would appreciate that phrasing.”

Will loved how easy it was for you to find your place in the group. 

“Where’d you move from?” Dani questioned, sipping on her hard seltzer to savor it. “I don’t hear an accent, really.”

“Middle of nowhere Montana,” you answered, anticipating the next question. Might as well answer it before someone asked. “I’d been in a relationship but…well, it wasn’t a good one. I left him earlier this year and ended up in a rehab program for cocaine addiction. When I got out…I had a couple of months in sanctioned housing, but I needed a change of scenery. It wasn’t long after that the family lawyer called to say the farm and business were passed to me in the will.”

Will caught the way you chose your words carefully as you spoke about your relationship, noticing how your voice had a slight shake to them. The possibilities of your cryptic words tore into him, festering in quiet anger as he ran through what that could mean. It was possible you’d simply been incompatible, perhaps fighting frequently. It was possible he’d broken your heart by being unfaithful. Or, and Will seriously hoped this wasn’t the case, it was possible your ex had been abusive toward you. The thought made him dig his fingers into the table’s edge.

As he allowed the thoughts to consume him for longer than he’d intended the conversation carried on, Benny beginning to understand why his friends had spent the last few weeks talking up this woman. His thoughts were broken by Santiago slapping his fist to the table quickly. 

“Let’s play a round of darts. Winner picks the next five songs. Loser deals with it,” he offered, reaching upward to run his fingers through his hair. With a shrug you finished your lemonade, offering a mischievous smile once again.

“Let me drag up a chair for you to sit in while we play so your knees don’t give out with all that standing, peepaw,” you joked, pulling a round of laughter from everyone at the table except for Santiago, of course, and none louder than Will. The latter took his cue to stand and let you make your way across the bar with Santiago, bickering back and forth as you went. His gaze lingered far too long to go unnoticed. 

“I know our mom taught us that it’s rude to stare, Will,” Benny chimed in first, throwing back the remainder of the whiskey in his glass. Will returned his attention to the men and woman still at the table, reaching to scratch the back of his head as he searched for an answer. 

“Just trying to hear her give Santiago a piece of her mind,” he attempted a cover, reaching again for his beer and swallowing a large drink. He immediately felt the familiar twist of guilt knot his stomach for his white lie. 

“Bullshit,” came Frankie’s retort, a scoffed laugh pulled from his chest. Admirably, only a water sat in front of him still. Benny nodded his head in agreement, and even Danielle raised her eyebrow at the blonde man’s lie. 

“You’re into her,” Benny concluded, setting his empty glass on the table. There was no point in trying to cover himself, and even if there was…it wasn’t in his nature to lie to his family.

“I’ve been into her since I met her,” Will conceded, directing another longing gaze in your direction. You stood with your arms crossed, the smirk on your lips evident even from the side as you watched Santiago struggle to take the perfect aim – his eyes weren’t what they used to be. He saw your mouth move and the glare Pope shot your way, and he wished he could hear what you’d chosen to taunt him with. “I asked her to dinner. A month ago,” he began, taking another drink. “Said she’d love to say yes, but turned me down anyway. Said she didn’t want anything serious right now.”

The genuine disappointment in his eyes had Frankie and Benny sharing a look – it had been a long time since Will Miller had acted so bent out of shape over a woman. 

“It’s a recovery thing,” Frankie offered some comfort, reaching to pat his back carefully. “She’s afraid if she doesn’t get far enough and the two of you don’t make it, the disappointment will make her relapse. At least…that’s what I’d think.”

“You should have seen her face when she realized you were behind her,” Benny added. “That’s not a woman who wants to turn you down.”

“I’m going to wait for her until she’s ready,” Will sighed, pulling his eyes away from you to look at his brother. “I don’t care if that sounds stupid, or desperate. I’m gonna wait.”

On the other side of the bar, you’d tied with Santiago and split the next five song choices – two from you, one decided together, and two from him. While he made his individual choices after you, you made your way to the bar to order yourself another lemonade to take back to the table. It was while you stood there waiting that a man decided to bother you, standing far too close and making incredibly lewd offers that no one wanted to hear from a stranger. 

“Why don’t you come on back to my table with me and my friends? We’ll show ya a nice time, darlin’,” he drawled, moving closer to run a hand down your arm. “Pretty thing like you needs something stronger than a lemonade, and a strong man to show you a good time.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” you replied, taking a step back which he chased with a step forward. 

“’fraid I don’t take no for an answer, little lady,” he retorted, reaching to grab your arm and pull you closer to him. “You won’t regret it when I have you in my bed later, I can promise you that.”

A large, flattened hand on the back of the man’s neck cut his sentence off before more vulgarities could come through his lips. From behind the man, William Miller kept his icy gaze on your face, searching for any sign of true distress. When he saw the slight quiver to your lip his grasp on the man noticeably tightened, fingers digging into the sides of his neck. 

“Let go of her arm,” he ordered, his tone free of any room for argument. It was a tone you’d not heard yet from him, and one you felt bad for anyone that was on the receiving end. The man’s sweaty hand released your arm, the red mark from his tight hold prompting Will’s jaw to tick briefly, a deep breath releasing from flared nostrils. “I should kick your ass for that, but that would ruin our night. Instead, I’m going to give you the opportunity to apologize.”

His eyes were burning into yours, yet he still didn’t miss the man’s attempt to turn and land a punch on his jaw. Catching the incoming fist with his free hand he pushed the man’s head downward, forcing it to the bar top as he twisted his arm behind him. Shifting his intense eyes to look at the back of the man’s head he shook his head, taking hold of the man’s hair to twist his face to look at you. If he was angry before, he was irate now – but he was controlling himself for your benefit. The man’s nose was unbroken but bleeding, and he spit blood onto the bar as he began to beg. “Look, man, we were just having fun…just let me go and she’s all yours.”

“It doesn’t look like she was having fun,” Will corrected, his grasp unfaltering. “I’ll give you one more chance to apologize to her.”

“I’m…I’m sorry, okay? I’ll leave, just let me go, man,” the man begged, breathing shaky and anxious as he feared the wrath of the man behind him. Will used his remaining grasp to lift the man straight upward again, pushing him toward the door with disdain. 

“You should walk off this mood you’ve got yourself in,” Will began, moving to stand closer to you but keeping his eyes on the staggering man now. As the man made his way toward the door, Will left him with another parting threat. “If I see you back in this bar it won’t be good for you.”

Subconsciously William slipped an arm around your waist, turning you to face him as his other hand reached to lift your arm gently. The handprint around your wrist was now bruising lightly – barely there – but it was too visible for Will. His eyebrows pulled together in frustration, trying to steady his breathing and heart rate so he could ask you if you were okay. You beat him to the punch. 

“Shhh,” you soothed, removing your arm from his hold and placing your hand on his bicep gently. Your eyes met his again, releasing a shaky breath once you realized how close he held you to him. Chests pressed firmly together you could feel the rapid beat to his heart and his fight for a normal breath – he needed to calm down, and Will being calm was far more important to you than a bruise. It’s not like this was the first one in your life. “I’m okay, Will. I’ve had worse from bumping into the coffee table, it’s alright. Breathe with me.”

Storms darkened his eyes, his hands grasping at your sides now as his chest gave a solid heave. Brushing your thumb against his arm you reached your other hand to rest against his cheek. You pulled him backward with you toward the quiet hallway by the bathrooms, offering a gentle smile once you were alone. Drawing in a deep breath as your eyes remained locked on his you gave his arm a light squeeze, encouraging him to pay attention to you – only you, not on following the guy outside and knocking his teeth out. 

He could follow orders, though – that was something that no situation could turn off in him – and he soon began to mirror your deep breaths, hands still clutching you to him. By the time he’d released his fifth deep breath his mind was less clouded with anger, but that didn’t mean it was clear. If anything, it was even more clouded, but now it was clouded with you. You’d never been this close to him. He’d never felt the way his fingers could dig delicately into your skin. He’d never felt your chest pressed to his. 

He’d never been only inches away from claiming your lips with his – and that’s exactly what he did as the adrenaline rushed through him. Grasping your hips tighter he anchored you against him, his lips soft and rough as you stood frozen, a quiet gasp slipping through your lips in shock. The quiet sound brought Will back to his senses, immediately pulling away from the kiss with a shock-laced look of horror on his face. 

“I’m…so sorry,” he began, though he still hadn’t released his hold on your hips, his eyes transfixed on yours. The concern behind his eyes was unmistakable – he was terrified of how badly he’d just messed things up with you – and yet that didn’t stop his cheeks from darkening slightly, or his tongue from running over his bottom lip briefly for another desperate taste of you. “I shouldn’t have – mmph.”

Your hungry lips cut off his words quickly as you grasped at his bicep, the hand you held against his cheek sliding to the back of his head to hold him closer. He returned your kiss like it was something he’d been waiting to do for years, his hands sliding to rest on your lower back and pull you into him completely. A pleasant sigh slipped through your lips as he ran his tongue across the seam, granting him access to explore your mouth. When he’d kissed you breathless, he withdrew from your lips, his own curving into a smile as he bumped his nose against yours lightly. Leaning his forehead to rest against yours he took in a deep breath, savoring the moment he'd fantasized over for weeks.

“I still don’t want anything serious,” you whispered, eyebrows pulling together in frustration at so many things, none of which were Will’s fault, all of which fell on you and your past. ‘Live in the moment!’ a voice screamed in the back of your head, begging you to see that the man in front of you was a direct pathway to happiness. You’d silenced that optimistic part of you long ago. “I’m sorry I just…don’t. I can’t.”

“Sh,” he cooed, sliding one of his hands to rest on the top of your back to hold you closer. He bumped his nose against yours again lightly, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth before looking deep into your eyes. “I know. I don’t care.”

Your teeth bit into your bottom lip lightly, a sign you were nervous and uncertain. “It’s not fair to you.”

“I don’t care.”

“I can’t even promise…what this would look like, Will.”

He shushed you again, shaking his head before he rested his forehead against yours again. “I will take whatever you want to give me for as many days as you want to give it.”

He’d followed through on his word throughout the weeks that followed, thankful that he had turned out to be a very patient man. Even with the generally negative outlook on life you maintained, always finding a fault in every situation – you couldn’t find one with Will. Yes, it was adorable that he’d show up at the farm during lunch to see you, wanting nothing more than to simply see you in “work mode” and to kiss you as he ran a thumb across your cheek to wipe the dirt away.

Frankie didn’t mind at all that you’d started up this…whatever it was with Will. He enjoyed the fact that both of you were happy, and he wouldn’t complain about the lunches Will dropped off when he visited. Frankie wasn’t the only one in the group to know about the time you spent with Will, of course – Will didn’t believe in keeping secrets between the four of them. 

You’d joined them for nights out a couple of times since but remained purely friendly with Will while in the view of others. The car rides home were when he would kiss you breathless in your driveway, holding you close, greedy for every moment you offered him. Things had never escalated past heavy kissing and touching, and that was comfortable – you still felt you could quit him any time you needed to, and it was safer that way. 

It was Frankie that had asked you to take a Saturday off with him to spend time with them at the beach before the weather started cooling off a bit for the winter. You weren’t really one for the beach, not having lived anywhere near the ocean or going into the ocean much for most of your life, but Frankie’s pleading brown eyes won you over. It would be cruel to leave Dani alone with the men, anyway. When you’d walked onto the beach with Frankie that Saturday afternoon, Will thought his heart was going to burst from his chest. You and Frankie had elected to keep your presence a surprise, which worked in your favor as he smiled the brightest smile he’d offered you yet as you made your way over to their umbrellas, chairs and towels. 

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” he greeted, unable to help himself from hugging you. His voice was teasing as he continued. “You know I don’t like secrets.”

“Oh, well I’m full of ‘em,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around him and tilting your head to look into his face. “Like…I actually assassinated JFK, and I helped fake the moon landing. I admit it. All me.”

He smiled at your joke and allowed a soft laugh to leave his chest, shaking his head slightly as he released you before the hug lingered too long for your comfort. “I wish I’d known you were coming; I could’ve grabbed some lemonade for you. I’ve got water in the cooler, though, and I’ve always got a pack of those cashews that you like in in my truck.”

You nudged his arm lightly with your shoulder, cheeks turning red under his thoughtfulness and sweet intentions with you. Before you could thank him, Benny had joined up with you, picking you up in a crushing hug as Danielle said hello from behind. Will had never really envied his brother until he got to witness your effortless acceptance of him, and the way Benny could hug you however he wanted. 

“Benny, Jesus, you’re going to crack one of my ribs, you behemoth,” you laughed, gasping for air through his hug as you attempted to wiggle free. Benny placed you gently back on the ground and offered a wide grin, immediately draping his shoulder back around Dani who rested her head on him gently. “Hope you guys don’t mind Frankie bringing me along. I couldn’t leave Dani alone around all you men all day.”

“And that is so appreciated,” the named woman replied, here signature sincere smile on her face. “I am going to work on catching up with Benny’s annoying natural tanning abilities, if you want to sit with me. You don’t seem much of a ‘get in the ocean’ kinda gal.”

You did sit on the beach for most of the day with the woman, getting to know one another more deeply, your conversations free of the hindrance of men being present as the group of four gallivanted about the shore and in the waves. Every so often, Benny would yell a quick “hi, baby!” from the water, causing Dani to smile, roll her eyes and wave, a small laugh falling from her lips. It was well past 4 p.m. and the seventh time he’d done it when she gave a different reply.

“He’s an idiot!” she yelled back, her voice full of laughter and love for the man she’d spent just less than a year with now. She quieted her voice back before she added to you. “I knew that when I agreed to date him, though. I can’t complain.”

“You’re perfect for one another,” you asserted, watching as Benny smiled and blew her a kiss before returning to the group. Your eyes wandered, briefly, only to confirm Will had stopped in his tracks to gaze at you, too. Danielle wasn’t the only one with attention focused on her today. Several times now Will had reminded you – gently but firmly – to reapply sunscreen and drink water. As the men set to work on building a fire, he had called to you again to remind you about the water, pulling a quiet giggle from Danielle.

“That’s five times for that one, then,” she counted aloud, watching as you grabbed the water from beside you to take a large drink. “Benny and I aren’t the only ones perfect for one another. That man loves you, you know.”

You felt the heat in your cheeks and knew they must be several shades darker. You finished the bottle of water and released a deep breath before you chose your words, not wanting to be taken off-guard and say something stupid. “He doesn’t…love me. We just…we get along well.”

“He loves you, and no amount of self-deprecating denial from you is going to change that,” she remarked, taking another drink of one of several hard seltzers she’d had that day. You knew those things barely contained alcohol, but you also had to wonder if it was contributing to her willingness to be so open. “You should let him.”

“I should let him what?” you questioned, feeling the answer in your stomach before she spoke it. 

“Love you. You should let him love you,” she replied, rolling her eyes with a soft laugh. “He seems pretty good at it.”

As you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth you turned your face away from her, noticing that the other half of this conversation’s topic had found his way back into the water alone. Finally cracking under the pressure you felt to be alone with him for even a minute you decided the ocean couldn’t be that bad, really, and made your way to the chilling water. You really didn’t want to find your way into the ocean, but if it meant time with Will, so be it.

You’d almost made your way to him when something touched your leg, sending you into an immediate panic as you made your way to him, essentially launching yourself into his arms as you screamed his name. William immediately cradled you against him, smiling down at you with an all-too amused smile.

“I’ve got you; I’ve got you,” he cooed, raising a thumbs up to the shore so no one worried after your scream before he brought that arm to hold you as well. “What’s the matter?”

“Something touched my foot,” you whined, unused to being in the ocean like this. The chuckle that rumbled through him shook his chest, his reminders to reapply sunscreen not influencing him – he’d gotten some color on his cheeks and nose. Even in your distraught state, it was impossible to not recognize how handsome he was. 

“Well, there are fish in the ocean, honeybee,” he drawled, his voice full of amusement. His nickname for you caused your stomach to flip in the most annoying way, and you felt yourself curl into him more despite yourself. “What do you want me to do, hmm? How can I fix it?” 

“I want to get out. Carry me out,” you stated, clinging to him. Whether it was him holding you that felt so good or genuine fear keeping you to him, he really couldn’t say. He nodded, but instead of going toward the shore he moved away from it, swimming out with you further. “William! I said OUT!”

“I thought you said you wanted me to take you further out!” he replied, his tone too full of amusement. You moved to wrap your legs around his waist instead, narrowing your eyes at him and setting your face to be serious, eyebrows furrowed. He wanted to lean in to kiss the lines. “Hey, hey, hey…” he cooed, turning his back to the shore and leaning his forehead against yours with a light smile. You could see the light freckles on his cheeks that the sun had brought out throughout the day, his eyes light in the fading sunlight as he gazed longingly at you. No one had ever talked to you as soft as he did. “’m not gonna let anything happen to you. You don’t need to worry about a thing as long as I am right here with you.”

His lips pressed to yours in a gentle, reassuring kiss briefly before he returned to simply leaning his head against yours. You lightly bumped your nose against his, resting your hands on his chest gently. It was impossible not to believe him. “Still not nice, William Miller.”

“I know, I just wanted you alone for a minute,” he conceded, angling his head to press a kiss to the corner of your lips. You couldn’t help but smile under his affections, maintaining that hard exterior proving difficult as his kisses chipped away at it. “I’m sorry, honey. Let me make it up to you?”

You tilted your head and raised an eyebrow in curiosity, slipping one of your hands to his bicep. “How do you plan on doing that? I was pretty distraught.”

“Let me take you home,” he offered, his eyes so sincere it hurt. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before he continued further. When you didn’t give him a response, he continued. “I have feelings for you.”

“Well…stop it,” slipped from your lips before you could stop it, your cheeks immediately burning at your own callousness. It was second nature to push people away now…especially Will, who was getting closer than anyone was allowed right now. Instead of being hurt, Will could only smile at your attempt. 

“Yeah?” he questioned, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to your lips. His words came between kisses as he spoke. “You want me to stop?”

As the kisses grew deeper and you felt the warmth of arousal spreading through your body you had to shake your head, knowing he’d recognize the longing in your eyes and call your bluff if you insisted. He smiled as his hands slipped down from your sides to grasp your ass under the water, pressing you into him firmly as you shook your head and released a defeated sigh. 

“You can take me to your house,” you conceded, running your fingers through his hair as you looked at him through your lashes, devouring him with an unashamedly lascivious look. His eyes lit up even further, finally listening and carrying you closer to the shore so both of you could leave the ocean and get to his truck as soon as possible. As you wrapped yourself in a towel and gathered the items you’d brought with you in a bag you ignored her quiet giggles, unwilling to even consider the conversation Will was having with the men behind you. You supposed you owed Frankie a conversation as well on Monday. Dani called to you to have fun as you walked to Will’s truck. 

When he had you secured in his truck, he leaned to press a kiss against your lips as he buckled you in. He was a safe driver and had incredible reflexes, you reminded yourself of this frequently as he drove back with one hand rested on your thigh, kneading his fingers into the soft flesh occasionally. He pulled into his driveway sooner than he should have – he’d never speed with you in the car again – and immediately had you cradled in his arms again as he carried you into his house.

When he began to make his way up the stairs he finally spoke, trying to cover the happiness in his voice with seriousness. “You’re sure this is what you want?” You responded by reaching your head to plant kisses on his shoulder, trailing them to his neck as best you could as you nodded. As he opened his bedroom door, he gazed down at you finally, not taking another step forward just yet. “Have to hear you say it.”

“Yes, Will,” you confirmed, and those two words melted his resolve. He placed you on his bed carefully before he crawled between your legs, keeping one hand on your hip and cupping your cheek in his hand as he kissed you deeply. You returned his kiss immediately, just as desperate for him as he was for you at this point. His fingers began to work at the ties of your bottoms as he traced the seam of your mouth with his tongue, groaning appreciatively as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. When he was satisfied with the taste he’d received he released your lips, trailing his kisses to your jaw and neck as he removed the bottoms. 

His kisses trailed lower on your neck, Will fighting the urge to suck purple marks into your skin in such an obvious place. Your hands ran up his back to the back of his neck and head, holding him closer as he trailed his kisses to your chest just as he’d worked that tie free as well, removing the fabric from your body and leaving you finally bare for him. He leaned back to run his eyes down you appreciatively, one of his thumbs rubbing gently over one of your nipples slowly. 

“You look so fucking pretty in my bed,” he complimented before leaning forward again, claiming one of your nipples in his mouth with a flick of his tongue. He happily familiarized himself with each of your breasts, earning the most beautiful moans that had ever graced his ears from you as your hips pressed up into his in desperation for friction. When your hot core was met with his obvious erection in his swim trunks you moaned in unison, Will pressing his waist into you further. He released your nipple from his mouth to trail his kisses downward again as he whispered. “Bet you’re gonna taste fucking delicious mixed with salt water…”

His hand that had been holding your hip moved to spread your legs as his lips reached your hip, smiling against the skin before kissing it gently. Experimentally he spread your already soaking folds with a swipe of his fingers, groaning appreciatively as you gasped. “Will…”

“All this for me, baby?” he cooed, lowering his head to swirl his tongue around your clit before sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves lightly. “You always get this wet for me? Is this pretty pussy this wet every time I kiss you?”

You whined your confirmation as he ran his tongue through your folds, an appreciative groan rumbling in his chest as he finally tasted you. His name fell from your lips again and he nodded in encouragement before setting in on his first task of the night, devouring every inch that your hot core had to offer him. For as many times as you’d imagined Will’s head between your thighs, nothing compared to the way he tended to every inch of you, groans and grunts vibrating through his mouth as he fucked his tongue into your velvet entrance. 

He had your legs shaking on either side of his head in no time, his lips curving into a smile as he connected his thumb with your clit, continuing to swirl his tongue inside of you as best he could. When your breathing became erratic and your hands reached to grasp his hair, he knew he had you on the edge, nodding in affirmation when you warned him you were going to come. When euphoria rocked through you with a loud moan your hips arched off the bed, giving him a much better angle to appreciate the nectar he’d earned.

The ceiling above you turned to a white light as pleasure rushed through you, your moan turning to a scream when he didn’t relent at your entrance or clit, continuing to stimulate you through your orgasm. By the time he’d crawled his way back up your body and removed his trunks you had come down somewhat, only enough to be somewhat aware as he rubbed the head of his cock through your folds with a low groan. 

“I can get a condom…” he offered, whatever his full sentence was intended to be cut off as you pressed a lazy, half-aware kiss to his lips as you shook your head, quiet please leaving your lips. Briefly arguing with the responsibility of the decision he was about to make. When you quietly begged him to fuck you again all reason escaped his mind, lining his already throbbing cock at your entrance before thrusting in carefully. Your wet heat welcomed him in like you were meant to do so, the heat of your velvet channel caressing him inch by inch until he was buried in you. He groaned low in appreciation as he pressed his lips to yours in a loving kiss, stilling his movements to give you both a moment to savor the feeling of him filling you. “Better than I could have fucking imagined…”

One of his hands slid carefully up your body to rest on your cheek, pulling you closer as gently as he could to claim your lips in a kiss as he withdrew from you almost completely before thrusting back in, grunting as your walls fluttered around him. As your lips and tongues entered a dance they had done so many times now your bodies came together fully for the first, his cock massaging your walls with each of his well-purposed thrusts. You wrapped your legs around his waist to draw him in closer, holding him against you as close as his thrusts would allow you. He pulled away from the kiss to bump his nose against yours gently before running it along your cheek affectionately, placing a kiss just below his ear when he’d reached the sensitive spot. 

“Like you were made for me,” he whispered in your ear, his thrusts increasing in pace as he neared his finish much sooner than he wanted to. He reached to grasp one of your legs, sliding it so your ankle hooked over his shoulder so he could angle into you deeper. The new depths he reached pulled you closer to the edge, his thumb connecting with your clit again, causing your walls to flutter around him. 

“I’m on the pill,” you offered, feeling a second orgasm approaching you as he rubbed steady circles around your clit and the velvet head of his cock brushed against the coveted spot inside of you, sensing the end approached for him as well as his thrusts became more erratic and desperate. Your quiet suggestion pulled a groan from his chest, his head turning to claim your lips again in a messy kiss. 

“You want me to fill you up, princess? That what you’re asking me for?” he questioned between deep thrusts accompanied by deep breaths, his hand sliding from your cheek to your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your lips. “You tell me that’s what you want and I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you anything you ask for.”

You could only bring yourself to nod as you kissed him deeply, your own orgasm rushing through you as you moaned against his lips. Feeling your walls tighten around him he couldn’t hold his own release back, spilling his seed into you with a groan as he pulled away from your kiss to lean his forehead against yours. He could have told you that he was falling in love with you right then. 

As you both came down from shared euphoria he rolled to his side next to you, wrapping his arms around his waist as he went to hold you against him gently. You listened to your instincts by tucking your face into his neck, breathing in deeply to steady your breaths as Will pressed gentle kisses to the top of your head and whispered quiet praises and thank yous to you. One of your legs slid up between his to cuddle closer, your arms wrapping around his middle as your eyes slid closed. 

You probably could’ve fallen asleep right then, if his words hadn’t woken you from your peaceful lull. “I’ve got extra clothes and…we can shower before you change if you want.”

The sweet suggestion snapped you back to reality, and you forced yourself to let him know you'd have to go home now. In all honesty, it was the last thing that you wanted to do, but you were unwilling to relent just yet on your insistence to not pursue something serious. Will, of course, didn't want to tell you no because he wanted you to feel comfortable with him - he wanted you to know that he would listen to you, and support whatever you felt was best for yourself. That included you leaving him for the night, even when he wanted you more than he had any night before.

Not hearing anything about accepting a ride home from him, insistent on being independent for the night, you sent Frankie a text to grab you on his way back from the beach if he hadn't made it home already. 15 minutes later Frankie was in Will's driveway, a sympathetic look on his face as he waved to the younger man through the windshield as you climbed into the truck.

Will watched silently as the truck backed out of the driveway and you disappeared down the street, mentally vowing to himself that he would willingly spend as long as you needed waiting.

When November’s curtain call came and the evening chill of December rolled in, you’d found your match with William Miller, who was acting by his promise and providing you with consistency, with reverent tenderness. No matter what distance you tried to maintain from him he was just as unrelenting, finding ways through your obstacles day after day. He never pushed, never overstepped, but he was always there, ever willing to cherish you in entirety whenever given the chance. Lately those opportunities had grown, proliferating into prolonged post-coital kisses and embraces that could hardly be passed off as anything less than adoration any longer.

Falling wasn’t enough to describe the feeling – falling was too subtle. A plummeting nosedive, a cascade…an avalanche, a crashing meteor – so consuming it swallowed you until all that was left was Will, his affections blanketing you with unwavering warmth.

“Honeybee!” Will called as he entered through the front door, the sound of him removing his boots and setting them by the door causing you to smile as you crushed candy canes in the kitchen. All your meetings had been reserved for his home but today you’d offered to host him and his friends at your farmhouse for dinner – Christmas Eve dinner.

“In here, Will,” you replied from your place at the counter, taking a deep breath as you started sprinkling the candy canes atop the cupcakes you made for dessert. An immediate advantage to having Will in your home was the sound of the creaking floor beneath his large frame – even without shoes – meant you could hear him coming behind you. “Don’t mess me up, Will. This is serious business.”

A laugh rumbled through him as he delicately wrapped his arms around your waist anyway, resting his chin on your shoulder for a moment before turning inward, burrowing his face in your neck with a deep breath. He pressed a gentle kiss behind your ear, assessed your response, and then repeated the motion when he realized you remained focused on your task, smiling into your skin lightly. When you finished you slid the cupcake stand back further on the counter for safety before turning in his arms, a playful smile lighting your features. It was only now Will noticed what remained of a candy cane in your mouth, his mind spinning already at the thought of what your lips must taste like now.

“Did I mess you up?” he questioned, leaning forward to press his lips to your forehead with a quiet hum of appreciation as your arms found their way around his neck, not before your hands slid over his chest. He opted to forego the ugly sweater party – you knew that was coming – but he did at least wear a red sweater, the color bringing out the coolness of his eyes. Even in the winter he was managing to keep up plenty of color, but not enough to hide the redness to his cheeks as you held his gaze.

Sometimes he couldn’t decide if it was better you could hold his eye contact now or not – he still hadn’t grown used to feeling somewhat embarrassed just under a woman’s gaze. The way you removed the candy from your mouth          with a pop and placed it in the trash behind you certainly didn’t help.

“Nearly, but I’ll let it slide seeing as it’s Christmas and all,” your fingers found their way into his hair, pulling him closer so you could press your lips to his in a gentle kiss. One thing he would never grow accustomed to was the clench in his heart whenever you initiated affection – some of his favorite kisses sparked by you.

“Christmas Eve, honeybee,” he replied when you released him, pressing a kiss to his cheek as best you could from standing on your toes. He tightened his hold on your waist to hold you against him tighter, relishing in your attention and uncaring about the inevitable mess that would transfer from your apron to him.

“Mm, you look handsome in this little red number, Will,” you teased, bringing more color to his cheeks. It was too easy for you now – you loved it.

“I wore it just for you,” he drawled, seeking out another taste of peppermint on your lips with a gentle kiss. The fact that you knew that was true only made your chest swell more.

“Well, you’ll have to wear something else for me, too, since technically…you are out of dress code,” you remarked, eyebrow raised slightly in a manner he knew to be playful. Whatever you had in store he would play along with, as long as it meant this mood you were in would continue, particularly with how the two of you had left things last time – an argument that had been eating at both of you for days.

"You’ll have to make a decision sooner or later,” he’d stated as he leaned against his truck in the parking lot after one of Benny’s fights, trying to appear much cooler on the outside than he was on the inside where frustration bubbled under his skin. He’d slipped – called you his girlfriend, and it had been too much of a reality check for you to handle. Despite his harshness he reached a hand toward you, beckoning you closer – you did not follow.   A wild animal backed into a corner – hissing and feral and scared. So many questions remained in his mind about why it was so hard for you to accept love, but he’d never push for those answers. You’d give them freely in your own time. The topic at hand remained to be that Will had spent weeks earning your affection, and while he was patient, it had been worn somewhat thin. “We don’t spend the night together…months now and I’ve never woken up next to you,” he continued, eyebrows pulling together as he crossed his arms again. “And if that’s not frustrating enough, I can’t even slip and call you my girlfriend – to my brother – without you getting upset. I’m doing everything I can here, I just need you to give a little back. Anything.”   Your lip had quivered, tears pricking at your eyes. Will hated to see you that way, hated to have caused it – it would gnaw at him in the days that followed, as would all the words that followed, so unimportant now. As much as the argument shredded his heart day after day the same was true for you – perhaps if he knew how guilty you felt because you were still resisting what was right in front of you, he could have gone easier on you.

Even now the guilt festered.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, unwilling to spark any sort of disagreement today. You reached behind you to the counter to grab a Santa hat before lifting it onto his head, smiling a sweet smile before flattening his hands against your lower back to pull you closer. He offered you a smile in return, withholding any fussing about the hat as his eyes met yours again. One of his hands left its position to lift to your cheek, callused fingers lightly dusting across your cheekbones. “I’m sorry about Friday night, honey. I shouldn’t be pushing you like that…I knew what I asked for when I asked for it.”

It was in your nature to lean your head toward his hand, your eyes drifting shut briefly to enjoy the moment. You only met his gaze again when you’d chosen your response, words leaving your lips quiet and sincere. “I’m the one who should be sorry, Will,” you sighed, leaning forward to lay your head on his chest, calmed by the familiar rhythm of his heart. “I do need to make a decision, you were right.”

“Yeah, but I…lost my temper. I raised my voice,” he rested his hand that had been on your cheek on the back of your head, stroking your hair and internally smiling at the streaks of flour leftover from your day in the kitchen. “I should never do that to you, there’s no excuse.”

“Apology accepted,” you whispered, burying your face into his chest to inhale the smell of him – saltwater and oak, subtle and resolute. He leaned to press a kiss to the top of your head, holding you for a moment before the day needed to continue. “Can you help me get the star on the tree and put presents underneath while I set the table? Dinner should be done by the time everyone else shows.”

He nodded, pressing a final kiss to your forehead before releasing you so you could get back to work. “You know at least one of ‘em will be late.”

“I included an extra twenty minutes on the cooking time to accommodate,” you quipped back cheerfully, removing your apron and hanging it on its rightful hook, giving the kitchen one final look over to ensure nothing was forgotten before setting off into the living room, remarking how Will needed to hurry because you had everything planned to the minute.

He’d never been more certain he loved you.

“Why’d you get a tree you couldn’t reach the top of, shortcake?”

You turned to throw him a look, cheeks burning with heat despite the amused smile that broke out across your face. He returned it with one of his own, straightening the Santa hat on his head before walking over to where you stood by the tree. He adored the mood you were in today, and wondered briefly if you were this way every Christmas. Your playful tone had returned. “Size does matter with some things, love. No one wants a wants a tiny tree with no needles.”

It wasn’t the first time that nickname had slipped, yet his chest still tightened. He wrapped his arms around you again, unable to resist pressing a kiss to your forehead as he pulled you in close before lifting you up so you could situate the star atop the tree. Satisfied with the state of the living room you tasked Will with starting the fireplace, putting music on via the record player in the living room, and lighting some candles while you finished cooking.

It was easy being domestic with you.

Everyone’s arrivals staggered from there forward. Benny arrived next, early and eager to spend time with his brother, with an arm slung around Dani, smiling and remarking how fantastic your house was before giving himself a tour. By the way his eyes kept raking over her you could only assume they found a hallway to defile. Dani joined you soon after with a smile and offered to help in the kitchen, which you accepted with some relief.

As Will and Ben broke into a bottle of bourbon and eggnog (Benny had threatened not to come if there was no eggnog available), Santiago showed up – surprisingly not in an ugly sweater after weeks of talking trash about how his was going to put yours to shame. You opted not to even bring it up given the expression on his face – today was clearly not the day to pick at Pope – and instead greeted him with a sweet smile instead. Frankie was last – really to no one’s surprise – and everyone had found a seat at the table as you loaded it up with food.

Santiago had jokingly requested an entire turkey – the largest one you could find – perhaps as a challenge, and you’d agreed to make it without second thought. Frankie was simple and asked for macaroni and cheese, Benny sheepishly requested sweet potatoes and dinner rolls, while Dani was sensible and requested “any kind of vegetable.” Will had shown his sweet tooth by requesting something sweet for dinner, hence the cupcakes you’d finished earlier.

“This looks incredible,” Benny complimented, pulling his eyes away from the food in front of him to look toward where you sat at the head of the table. Frankie and Dani both voiced quick words of agreement while Santi nodded, checking his phone quickly. “You have to give a toast.”

“Oh, no,” you laughed, waving your hand dismissively as you shook your head. Your face burned so badly you felt like all your head had become was a flaming ball. “No one wants to hear me do a toast, seriously. Dig in before it gets cold.”

Ben crossed his arms and Frankie’s face set into concrete resolution. It was the younger Miller who spoke, tone unwavering and serious. You weren’t entirely sure you’d heard him be so serious before…even before his fights. “We’re not eating until a toast is given.”

“Will can give a toast,” slipped from your mouth, nervousness causing the words to spill freely – maybe a little too freely. With a nervous laugh you continued. “He’s basically the man of the house.”

Will’s eyes noticeably widened up at you to your right, his mouth falling open slightly in surprise as his cheeks mirrored the fire in your own. Ben’s head snapped toward Will, giving a light smirk as his brother stood, never pulling his eyes from your face as he lifted his glass from the table.

The toast he gave was short, and yet he still struggled to make it through its entirety. Several times he cleared his throat, feeling the tingle in his tear ducts that threatened to pour with each passing moment, each beat of his heart causing a tightness in his chest.

“And…” he began the final sentence, releasing a shaking breath as he looked around the table. His eyes settled back to you like it was the most natural place in the world for them to be. You reached out to where one of his hands grasped the edge of the table, sliding your hand atop his and giving a gentle squeeze. The simple act spurred him through the rest of his speech. “And here’s to hopefully many more Christmases with all of us together.”

Dinner went smoothly from there, the table’s mood lighthearted and happy as everyone ate, light conversations being passed around – which included stories from both Will and Ben about their Christmases growing up and the trouble they used to get themselves into. Once the table was clear the group relocated into the living room to sit around the tree to complete the Secret Santa gift exchange you’d all planned.

Santi gave Frankie the gift he’d gotten him first – a new fishing pole, a hat (it was the same one he’d always worn, just a new version – you had to wonder how many times he’d been gifted the exact hat), and a pack of new socks. Frankie was enthralled by each of them, saying they’d have to plan a trip soon. As a result Frankie went next, handing Danielle her gift in a bag (he’d tried to wrap it, truly…he gave up when half the roll had been used). Danielle’s face lit up at the various candles and candy inside the bag and waved the spa trip for two pass in your direction with a smile.

Dani gifted Santi with tickets to a concert he’d been complaining for weeks he didn’t secure tickets to, which brought his trademark soft smile to his face as he thanked her profusely. Not before multiple comments were made about how the group hoped there was seating in the venue, so he didn’t have to stand on his shitty knees the entire time, you announced you’d go next since Santi had already handed out his gift. Passing a sizeable box to Ben with a wink and a smile you leaned back against the fireplace, watching as the younger Miller tore into it with excitement.

“You did not get me an original Nintendo 64,” he exclaimed, eyes wide as he pulled the old console out of the box. As Will watched on his chest tightened as you smiled at Ben, the word family seeming to repeat itself in his mind.

“You’ve been complaining about how the new model isn’t the same,” you explained with a shrug, taking a drink of the cider you held in your hand. “I can’t wait to kick your ass in Mario Party.”

“Next weekend, you’re on. Hope you’re not a sore loser,” he smirked, digging through the games that littered the bottom of the box as well. Wrapped up in admiring his gift he almost forgot to pass the envelope he was holding to his own brother with a playful smile. Will laughed – your heart swelled – and as he opened the envelope, he shot his brother a smile. “I know we usually say no gift cards…but you’re impossible to buy for. Figured you could use it on dinner or…somethin’.”

The brothers shared another knowing look and smile before Will reached out to pat his back, mentally noting to give him a proper hug when they weren’t sitting later. Which left Will to give the gift he’d purchased for the only person that remained without…you.

He moved closer to you on the couch, draping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close as he slipped his phone from his pocket, glancing down at you first to offer you a smile. “So, you’ve been saying that you miss the snow…”

As his sentence trailed, he turned his phone screen so you could see it, the sight of a small, warm-looking cabin surrounded by snow and pine trees filling your eyes. You turned your head to look up at him, eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion and questioning as your mouth opened briefly. Will beat you to talking.

“Now, obviously…I didn’t buy it, but I did rent it for a weekend…next month when there still should be plenty of snow,” he offered, crystalline eyes transfixed on yours as he spoke. “I thought we could take a nice trip…together, especially since that weekend will be your anniversary of going to rehab. It’s big enough for people to join –“

“Not a single one of us wants to be in that cabin with you two that weekend,” Santiago interrupted, quickly dismissing the thought with a shake of his head.

“…no offense, of course.” Frankie chimed in, elbowing his best friend.

“Oh, full offense intended,” Ben joined in, his words chased by a laugh. “You two in a cold ass log cabin somewhere in the fuckin’ Rockies? Count all of us out.”

Your cheeks burned at their teasing and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from Will, your bottom lip pulling between your teeth briefly as you grasped his hand gently. There were a lot of words that ran through your mind in appreciation – three not-so-little ones squeaking quietly in the back of your mind. You tried to silence them – something you had to do often now. It was getting more and more difficult to do.

Everyone else was ignored, even their taunting. As was so often the case, it was only you and Will.

“Thank you,” you whispered quietly, melting at the gentle curve of his lips. Without thinking you leaned upward to kiss him once quickly and gently, a small action that quickly silenced the group. They knew it happened, but seeing it was far different than hearing about it.

It was thanks enough for Will.

Now the gifts had all been received you excused yourself to gather plates and cupcakes from the kitchen. Once everyone had plates with multiple cupcakes each, it was time to watch a movie – the choice of which was yours.

The movie you chose really didn’t matter – your focus was almost entirely on Will. Taking the loveseat close to the fire, Will had his arms wrapped around you tightly seemingly from the moment you’d sat down, pulling you back against his strong chest to support you while he balanced a plate of cupcakes on his knee. He left no room for you to protest such an obvious display of affection, keeping one arm slung around your shoulder and seemingly pulling you closer and closer by the second.

After everyone had eaten their cupcakes and really settled in, you had to wonder if the other men and woman in the room minded the state you found yourself in with Will. His arm remained around your shoulders, your hand reaching up to lace your fingers with his…which allowed you the ability to press kisses to his fingers with ease. Several times Will turned your head, to press a gentle kiss to your lips, your nose, your forehead…smiling earnestly each time and pulling at your heart.

Halfway through the movie Will leaned to whisper in your ear, his breath hot against the shell. The mint lingering on his to his breath and huskiness in his voice send a chill up your spine – you knew he felt it when a quiet chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Let’s split the other cupcake on the plate.”

You turned your head to flash him an amused look, raising an eyebrow. “That’ll be your third one.”

“We’re splitting it,” he defended with a shrug of his shoulders, his other hand reaching for the aforementioned plate on the table beside the couch. “It doesn’t count.”

“Mm,” you smiled, taking the cupcake to unwrap it before taking a slow bite. When you offered it to him his eyes flashed with a look entirely indecent for company, his voice lower as he held your gaze. A subtle shake to his head confirmed what your mind had already begun to infer. “Gimme a bite.”

You fed him a bite slowly, eyes locked with his as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth slightly, watching his pink tongue dart out to run along his bottom lip to collect the peppermint icing there. He offered another smile with an appreciative hum

“Would you two get a room?” Benny questioned over the movie, shooting his older brother a playful look. He wasn’t serious, he truly didn’t mind seeing his older brother finally loosen up a bit and be happy – but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give him hell. It was, after all, the responsibility of being a younger sibling.

“They’re all my rooms, Benjamin,” you taunted, shooting the man a bright smile that Will took the moment to cherish. Taking another bite of the cupcake with a smirk on his lips he opted to settle back in then, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on the top of your head.

The two of you remained that way for the rest of the movie, his arms clutching you against his chest and rubbing gentle circles on your stomach occasionally. There was nothing stopping him from pressing kisses to the top of your head, either – which he considered fair, given that you were irresistible this close to him.

Santiago cleared out first in a haste, jaw clenching through his goodbyes which he seemed less-than-focused on as he checked his phone’s screen several more times. It was then that you offered a room to anyone who wanted to stay, which was quickly shot down by both Ben and Frankie who shared a knowing look.

“We do not want to be in this house when your…canoodling escalates,” Ben asserted, glancing between his older brother and you, who were now standing a few steps further from Will in an attempt to be less obvious. It was far too late for that.

With a hug and kiss on the cheek from Frankie and a promise to call you tomorrow, Dani gave you a gentle hug which was quickly contrasted by a crushing hug from Ben, who then only had to hug his brother goodbye before the two of you were alone. Will immediately wrapped his arms around you when the front door was shut, pulling you into his chest while releasing a deep breath.

He loved his brothers – but solitude with you was bliss.

“Let’s go clean up that kitchen,” he began, pausing his sentence mid-way through to press a kiss to your forehead. “Get it over with so we don’t have to worry about it, darlin’.”

You’d do almost anything he asked so long as he asked in that molasses thick tone.

You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, teasing him by pulling away slowly with a light smile on your face before you removed yourself from his arms, making your way to the kitchen with him following. When you began to run the sink to fill it you glanced to watch him lean against the counter to wait, his arms crossed like he was trying to control himself. Following his gaze your eyes landed on the cupcakes that remained (you’d made extra knowing he would be this way), and a smile passed over your features.

“I see you eyeballing those cupcakes, Mister Miller,” you teased, smiling further when he turned to you with red cheeks and a bashful gaze. You leaned across the counter to grab one, taking a slow bite as your eyes stayed on his. He wasn’t quite sure the cupcake was so important anymore. “C’mere and share this one with me before we do the dishes.”

He was good at following orders.

He didn’t need to tell you to feed him bites this time, you gladly taking up the task with adoration pooling in your eyes as you fed him almost the entire cupcake. He offered you a gentle smile as you reached upward to remove icing from the corner of his lips, popping the digit into your mouth with an appreciative hum before handing him the kitchen towel.

“I’ll clean, you dry.”

The rhythm the two of you entered was the same as every other way the two of you seemed to effortlessly fit together these days. Will could reach cabinets you couldn’t which made the task go much faster, and while he found himself quietly humming seasonal songs you soaked in the relaxation the sound brought.

“Today was good, yeah?” Will questioned from beside you, drying off another dish before placing it in its rightful place in the cabinet. “I think that’s the best Christmas this group has managed in years.”

“Benny said he’s going to pay me to make him those cupcakes every week. That Miller sweet tooth is something fierce,” you joked, rinsing out another glass. His cheeks reddened at your teasing. “Did you talk to Santiago? Something was up with him, he looked at his phone at least twenty times an hour, and he was bragging for weeks that his ugly sweater would put me to shame and then he just…didn’t wear one.”

“Mm,” he mused, taking another glass from you to dry it. “Pope is doing a poor job at keeping a secret he thinks he’s doing a great job at. He’s on edge.”

“Doesn’t he know better than to try to keep secrets from you?” you questioned, handing the last dish and turning to fix your attention on him as he dried it. At some point, damn him, he’d rolled the sleeves of his sweater up, and he looked so natural in your home it was starting to make you feel sentimental. Whole. “But today was great. We did a good job.”

“We, like I had hardly anything to do with it,” he hummed, smiling lightly as he put the dish away before leaning on the counter with his hip to face you. “It was practically all you. But…I’ve been telling you we make a good team.”

He reached out his hand gently toward you, pulling you closer to him to press a kiss to your forehead, not expecting a response. Wrapping your arms around his waist you stepped in as close as you could, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes. He held onto you tightly, shifting to lean his back against the counter to hold you closer. Flashes of the day spent together ran through both of your minds –you’d sat in his lap on the couch in front of everyone – because the living room didn’t have enough seats (lie) – but the feeding him bites of your cupcake was entirely optional.

Will loved you. It was a fact that was growing harder and harder to ignore by the day, the ache in his chest growing every time he heard your name or saw your face.  He didn’t want to say his next words, but he had grown so used to them – so used to this routine now that he accepted when they needed to be said.

“It’s getting late. I should probably head out, before the idiots get out on the road.”

It was a long pause, putting William on edge for a moment as he waited for your words. Even hesitation like this wasn’t normal for you. Your voice was soft, slightly wavering as you tilted your head back to look up at him.

“I don’t remember asking you to leave.”

Will paused, brief confusion flashing on his face before he smiled lightly, clearing his throat as he gave a slight nod. He was truly doing his best not to look overjoyed, though that’s exactly what he felt. “Are you asking me to stay, honeybee?”

“I thought it’d be a good Christmas present.”

“Maybe the best one I’ve ever gotten,” he smiled, leaning closer to brush his lips over yours again. His hands slid lower, pulling you closer to press a kiss to your lips gently. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, at his desperation to be close to you now that the two of you were alone, and his poor attempt at hiding how happy he was. His hands slipping lower still he ran his fingers over your thighs, eyes searching your face for a response. You were getting far too good at the poker face you’d developed against him.

“Are you trying to take me up to bed this quickly, Ironhead?” you cooed, looking up at him with a hooded gaze through your lashes. You hoped your face remained straight despite the burn that surged toward your core – feeling a bit proud of yourself again as you noticed him swallow hard. “You’ll miss out on the matching pajamas I picked up for us…”

“I’ve waited all day,” he pointed out, dragging one of his hands upward to push your skirt up, trailing kisses down your neck and chest. You grasped the edge of the counter to steady yourself, his eyes glancing up into yours again as he began to sink to his knees, using one of his hands to lift your leg over his shoulder. “I’m still starving.”

An embarrassingly wanton moan fell from your lips, one of your hands reaching to slide your fingers through his hair as his hand slid up your thigh to push your underwear to the side. “Is this what you thought about all day, Will?”

“You know it is. That little stunt you pulled earlier wasn’t very nice,” he drawled, eyes hungrily running over your already soaked cunt. “Look how wet you are for me, honeybee. You’ve been thinking about me today too, haven’t you? You sweet thing.”

You whimpered as he ran his fingers through your folds, his lips curving upward into a light smile as he taunted you slightly – waiting for you to answer. “Thought about me all day and now you can’t stop talking.”

He chuckled as he leaned forward, running his flattened tongue through your folds with a low groan as you rocked your core against his face, his nose bumping your clit and causing you to moan. He set in on his task then, satiating the hunger he still felt by licking and sucking and kissing every inch of your sex he could, relishing in your fingers tangling into his hair as you threw your head back with a moan. “God, this is a Christmas present…” The muffled laugh he released vibrated through you, the sensation causing you to buck your core into his face with a gasp as you pulled his hair slightly. “Fuck, William, you’re so fucking…so good at that.”

He removed his mouth from fucking his tongue into your entrance to smile up at you crookedly, his lips and facial hair glistening with your arousal. Slipping a finger into your tight channel he turned his head to press a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. “Love when you tell me how good I make you feel.”

He began to thrust his finger into you as he connected his mouth with your clit, giving the sensitive nub a flick with his tongue before sucking it gently. You whined his name quietly, keeping a hold on his hair as you moved your aching core against his face and hand, already desperate for more. He groaned against your skin with a particularly slow swipe of his tongue, adding a second finger to begin to stretch you.

The tips of his fingers massaged against your walls perfectly each time he pushed them back into you, particularly against the perfectly blinding spot behind your clit. You cried out, hands grasping his hair to steady yourself as you rutted against his mouth desperately. His tongue circled around your clit again, one hand slipping behind you to cup your ass and hold you against him closer, his blue eyes still burning up at you.

“Fuck, Will, I…” you began, words trailing off with an uptick in pitch as your thigh began to shake behind his head. Ensuring he tightened his hold on you he nodded, flicking his tongue against your clit with more fervor. Not long after you moaned his name again loudly, your eyes rolling back as heat rushed through you.

He removed his fingers but continued to lap at your folds, groaning appreciatively at the taste of your release coating his tongue. When he’d drank enough of you down he began to kiss up your body again, holding you close by the hips with one hand and undoing his belt and pants with the other as his lips connected with yours again. You tasted yourself on his tongue and – damn it – all of the cupcakes he’d eaten that lingered as well. After pushing his pants and briefs to the floor and kicking them aside.

Before he could lift you to the counter you broke the kiss, trailing your kisses down his neck before sucking a light mark above his collarbone with a smile. His chest rumbled with a groan, his hands slipping to your lower back to hold you closer. Your hands moved to hold his shoulders, applying pressure to encourage him to swap positions with you, smiling as you looked up at him through heavy lashes.

“Where you goin’, honeybee?” he asked, voice heavy as he reached his hands toward you again. Widening your smile you reached to wrap your fingers around his hardened length, eyes flashing with adoration when his hips jolted forward to meet your touch, a low groan sounding in his chest again. As you continued to rub along his length you sank to your knees, not breaking eye contact as you ran your tongue along the slit of his velvet head to taste the precum leaking from him already. His hands immediately grasped behind your head, fingers lacing into your hair. “Fuck.”

You removed your hand, running your nails down his thigh lightly as your tongue traced the thick vein on his cock, a light smile tugging at your lips when he moaned out another profanity. You continued to lick up and down his length and suck only on the head briefly, enjoying the frustrated huff to his breath that grew as you teased him slightly.

His usual sense of self control was obliterated by his need to feel the warmth of your mouth around his length. Before you could pull your lips free of him again he grasped your hair tighter, holding you in place as he slipped more of his length into your mouth. “Do you like teasing me, sweet thing?” You moaned in affirmation around his length, managing to run your tongue around as much of his length as you could manage. He pushed more of his length into your mouth, head falling back briefly before he corrected himself, eyes meeting yours again. “This is what you want? For me to fuck your mouth?”

You moaned again and he took his command, thrusting his length into your mouth greedily and with almost embarrassing speed. He seldom got to enjoy the feeling of your mouth around his length as he’d always opt to bury himself in your tight cunt before he got the chance, but on these occasions when you insisted – when you wanted him to bruise your throat – he was never one to resist. When his velvet head hit the back of your throat and you gagged slightly he huffed out a deep, sustained groan as his cheeks flushed, one of his hands moving from your hair to cup your cheek and stroke it gently.

It only encouraged you further.

You reached your own hand to cup his balls, fondling them gently as he began to thrust repeatedly into your mouth – gentle as he could manage in his clouded mind. “Fuck, baby…” he began, hitting the back of your throat again and holding your hair slightly tighter to keep you in place for a moment. “God, you’re doing so good. You look so pretty. Going to make you feel so fucking good soon.”

You moaned around his length which spurred him to brush your cheek again before he returned to fucking your mouth, some part of his brain keening at the sight of you drooling around his length. He may have been a clean freak, but there were some messy sights when it came to you that he loved.

He continued to praise you while he enjoyed your mouth, lasting for several more thrusts before he removed his cock from your mouth, gently tugging you upward to your feet again. “Let me fuck you right here. I can’t wait for the bedroom.”

There was something so intrinsically commanding – and sexy – about his tone that had you scrambling to allow him to lift you onto the counter, removing your skirt and underwear and tossing them to the pile with his pants as you went. “You’re fucking me in every room in this house, William Miller. This is just the start.”

He used his hand gently to raise one of your legs and hook it over his shoulder, his other hand fisting his cock to smear your remaining spit around his length as he groaned at your words. Leaning forward he lined his cock up with your tight entrance, releasing his length to grab the hand towel on the counter beside you, holding the fabric behind your head gently as he pressed a kiss to your lips gently.

“Don’t want you hitting your head,” he explained before beginning to push his throbbing cock into your velvet walls, groaning deeply as he leaned his forehead against yours with his eyes screwed shut in concentration. You leaned your head back, grateful for the cushion of the towel and his hand rather than the cabinet as you gasped, keening at the feeling of his cock splitting you open again.

When he’d bottomed out in you he stilled for a moment, kissing you again deeply and hungrily as he enjoyed the feeling of being fully wrapped up in you again. When he released you from the kiss he lowered his head to burrow into your neck, breathing in the smell of you deeply as he began to thrust into you carefully, perfectly. Even with you on a counter he knew the perfect angles to enter you, each thrust knocking the head of his cock against either the spongey spot that made you moan or your cervix, which always made you cry out his name.

It was impossible for him to say which he preferred.

After thrusting slowly and carefully for a while, enjoying the steady beat of your heart against his chest and your pulse beneath his lips. He raised his head to kiss you again, picking up the pace as his tongue danced across your bottom lip again, a deep groan sounding in his chest when your walls fluttered around him. He was unwilling to release you from the kiss fully so he muttered against your lips – how beautiful you were, how good you felt, how wonderful you sounded moaning for him, how fucking perfect you were…

He was burrowing into your mind and heart now. You were letting him.

You intentionally clenched your walls around him slightly, wrapping your other leg around his waist to force him deeper into you, pulling what was practically a growl from his chest. His hand on your hip grasped tighter as he gave several deep, pointed, slow thrusts, his forehead falling to lean against yours as he released a shaky breath.

“Wanna fill you up again,” he breathed out desperately, fingertips digging into you roughly as his pace became sloppy. “Can’t stop thinking about seeing my cum leak out of your pretty pussy.”

“Will, fuck…” you moaned again, hands grasping his shoulders to help ground yourself somewhat, feeling the building pressure again and knowing euphoria approached. His hand left your hip to slide lower, his thumb rubbing quick circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves to coax you over the edge.

“You like that? You like hearing me talk about filling you up, my love?”

“Yes, Will, fuck, f-f-fu-fucking love it,” you moaned out, your eager-to-please tone scratching an itch in his brain and causing his pace to increase – he now pounded into you relentlessly, knowing full well you wouldn’t walk well tomorrow. He’d be here to care for you anyway.

“I know ya do,” he groaned, nipping at your bottom lip lightly. “Means you’re mine.

”You could only nod up at him as your lips stayed open, eyelids heavy. He managed a light smile at the sight, losing himself in the fantasy of filling you so often that one day it would really take and that the two of you would fill this big farmhouse with a family – one day, he thought. For now, he could at least enjoy claiming your womb in practice.

Your orgasm washed over you quickly and powerfully, walls tightening down around his cock causing him to stay buried to the hilt as you cried out his name loudly, eyes rolling back. He ground his waist against you best he could with your tight, hot walls spasming around him until his own release came, ropes of his hot seed spilling into you. He kissed you throughout your orgasms, pulling you in closer to his chest to have you as flush against him as possible.

He continued to kiss you repeatedly, gently, reverently, worshipful as both of you came down from your shared high.

“You still want me to stay?” he questioned quietly against your lips when both of you seemed to have your breath returned to normal. You offered a gentle smile, pressing a kiss against his bottom lip – it was lazy, tired. Some of his favorite kisses from you were such – when you had no energy left and you still tried to give it to him.

“Only if you carry me to bed, soldier.”

He smiled – one of his pure and genuine smiles – as he scooped you up into his arms bridal style, holding you closer to his chest as he nodded. Flipping the lights off, Will began to exit the kitchen to make his way to share your bed for the first time, before a final thought ran through his mind. For a moment he questioned if he should voice the thoughts – but he knew you wouldn’t judge him.

“…You want me to grab more of those cupcakes before we go up?”

masterlist.

[maxdibert]

hi! anon here, hope these messages don’t bother you enough to affect you badly and that you have a nice day! this is not related to fandoms but as a younger anon just starting out with post high school studies..how did you figure out this was the field you’d like to work in? do you need to know any other languages other than english and your native or to have done activities that add to your CV so there’s a higher chance of them hiring you?

Alright, this is a bit of a long story.

I honestly didn’t know what to study because I liked so many things. I was especially interested in Social Work or Social Education, but I had also considered Political Science or Law—or even Literature. But Literature has basically zero job prospects. When I finished secondary school, I was super confused, so I took a gap year and went to London, where I worked in whatever I could find and learned the language.

Since my teenage years, I had been involved in many political groups and organizations, so I finally decided to study Law and Political Science because I had the opportunity to do the double degree, and I figured it was a good way to study two things I liked. At that time, I wanted to focus on Labor Law and the political side of things because my goal was to work in something related to that—maybe join a party or a union and work as an advisor or lawyer there. But life takes unexpected turns, and when I was in my second year of university, I had the chance to take a mediation course alongside students from the Social Sciences faculty who were studying Social Work.

In that course, we visited penitentiary institutions and attended mediation workshops with common prisoners as part of their rehabilitation program. They could earn good-behavior points and get sentence reductions by participating.

That’s where I met someone we’ll call J. This guy had been sentenced to several years in prison for trying to smuggle cocaine into Brazil. Fortunately (as he told me), he was caught and convicted in Spain, because otherwise, he would have probably ended up in a terrible Brazilian prison. He was a repeat offender, in and out of prison since he was 16, for crimes related to drug trafficking and possession, armed robbery, violent robbery, and theft. J told me he started smoking at 9 years old and had his first joint at 11. His older brother—a legend in his neighborhood for being extremely problematic and violent (he was out of prison at the time but was also a regular)—gave him heroin for the first time at 13. He started injecting at that age and was already addicted by 15.

He dropped out of school at 14 because no one in his family studied, and they needed to bring money home. Since they lived in a really rough neighborhood (one of those in my city where you wouldn’t go under any circumstances), he ended up hanging out with a group of kids who broke into houses in rich residential areas and spent the money on drugs. So, by the time he was 16, he was already an addict and a thief. He told me all kinds of stories—how he used to rob pharmacies by pretending he had a gun when he actually didn’t, how he had been homeless for years, how every time he tried to get clean, his brother would show up and derail him (he was an abusive piece of work), how his father used to beat them up, and how his mother spent what little they had on alcohol. In his environment, stealing and doing drugs were just normal, so he never saw it as wrong.

He had his first psychotic episode at 23 and nearly died from overdoses more than seven times. He had been in six different prisons. At the time I met him, he was 45 and told me he actually liked being in prison because it made it easier for him to stay off drugs.

He also told me about all the beatings he had gotten from the police—how they had broken his ribs during interrogations, how they knocked out one of his teeth during an arrest. The truth is, we became quite close because, despite having lost a good part of his cognitive abilities, not being able to write properly, and struggling with verb conjugations, the guy loved to read. He read incredibly advanced books, university-level stuff, and he actually understood them. He might not remember the names of the authors or the titles, but he remembered what the books were about. He was always reading. And I was fascinated because, given everything he had been through, his brain should have been completely fried—he should have been totally out of it—but in this one way, he was incredibly sharp.

One of the lawyers working with that group of social workers was handling his case and, three years later, managed to get his sentence reduced. He was released in 2023 under supervised freedom. J ended up in a social reintegration program run by an association that helps ex-prisoners with severe mental health issues or serious addiction problems.

My experience with J made me realize that I actually wanted to pursue criminal law—not to put guys like him in prison, but to work on giving them a real chance to rebuild their lives, to provide them with the tools and opportunities they had been denied. So, in the end, I specialized in criminal law and criminology and set aside the political side of things, focusing more on the legal field.

Years later, J messaged me on Facebook, telling me he had been released and was now in that association. He said it was a really cool place, and that he was living in a beautiful house. I looked up the association and found their project super interesting. I knew they were looking for people for their legal department, so I sent in my CV—and well, the rest is history.

J still doesn’t have full control over his own guardianship, but now he’s only addicted to coffee and tobacco—which aren’t the healthiest things, but at least they’re legal. He hasn’t gotten into any more fights or stolen anything, but every time his brother shows up, half the progress goes down the drain, because man, that guy is a nightmare. But that’s just how things are.

By the way—yeah, I studied languages, not because I needed to (in my job, everyone speaks Spanish; we don’t work with non-Spanish speakers), but because it’s always useful for a CV. Plus, I didn’t know if I would want to study for a government job in the future, and when applying for public sector positions, knowing foreign languages gives you extra points. In general, I did it just in case. I also have a ton of different courses in all sorts of fields—I’ve done a lot of things just in case they ever came in handy. I mean, unless you’re specializing in International Law, you don’t need to know other languages, but in Spain, certain opportunities value them a lot. And companies always like it when you have fluent English, even if it’s just for speaking.

Anyway, sorry for rambling. Thanks for the encouragement, but honestly, I couldn’t care less about attention-starved kids making dumb comments. xD

[girlactionfigure]

 THURSDAY HERO: Rabbi Abraham Joshua Twerski

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Twerski was a Hasidic rabbi and psychiatrist who authored dozens of books, helped tens of thousands recover from addiction, and was a blessing to everyone he met.

Born in Milwaukee in 1930, Rabbi Twerski was the scion of two illustrious Hasidic dynasties: Bobov and Chernobyl. His father Rabbi Jacob Israel Twerski was a Russian immigrant and leading rabbi who was beloved by the Milwaukee Jewish community. Abraham was one of five brothers and the first to be born in America. He was raised in a traditional Orthodox home but attended public school.

After being ordained as a young man, Abraham served as his father’s assistant rabbi, and was in awe of his father’s ability to connect with people and counsel them. He later said, “I didn’t see my life as a performer of rituals, and I felt that if what psychiatry is doing is what my father used to be doing, well, then that’s where I’ll go. So I went to medical school to become a psychiatrist to do what I wanted to do as a rabbi.” He graduated from the medical school of Marquette University  in 1960 and served as clinical director of the psychiatry department at St. Francis Hospital in Pittsburgh for many years.

In 1972, Rabbi Twerski founded Gateway Rehabilitation Center in Pittsburgh, a program so successful that there are now 22 Gateway centers in Pennsylvania and Ohio, serving both Jewish and non-Jewish patients. The current CEO of Gateway, James Troup, said “Dr. Twerski is our founder, inspiration leader and the person we think of every day as we execute our mission and vision.”

His granddaughter Chaya Ruchie Twerski remembered growing up with her beloved zaydie. “My grandfather used to pray on Saturday mornings in Chabad and when we would walk home from synagogue, every single Shabbos was the same thing. Cars would honk, people would roll down their windows and shout, ’Sending our love,’ or ‘Five years clean, Dr. T!’”

At that time it was rare for an Orthodox rabbi to be an expert in secular subjects such as medicine. It was also a common belief in the Jewish community that alcoholism and addiction were gentile problems. Rabbi Twerski challenged both assumptions by becoming a prominent psychiatrist who wrote over 80 books and helped thousands of Jews and non-Jews recover from substance abuse – all while maintaining his identity as a pious and visible Hasidic Jew. He tackled subjects nobody else in the Jewish world was addressing, such as domestic abuse and drug addiction.

Those who knew Rabbi Twerski remembered that his favorite word was “gem” because he believed that every human being is a precious gem. Rabbi Moishe Mayir Vogel, executive director of the Aleph Institute in Pittsburgh, said of his beloved rabbi, “He would never throw anyone away. He would say, ‘We just have to polish them off and wipe away the dust.’”

Rabbi Twerski was the first Jewish leader to embrace the 12-step program created by Alcoholics Anonymous, despite the program’s association with Christian teachings. A renowned expert in spiritual and secular subjects, Rabbi Twerski wrote dozens of best-selling books, all with the same theme – self-esteem. A fan of the Peanuts cartoon, Rabbi Twerski co-wrote two books with Peanuts creator Charles Schultz. Noted psychologist Rabbi Dr. Tzvi Hersh Weinreb said of his mentor, “He was a great believer that there was no contradiction. A person could be a person of great faith and a rigorous scientist.”

In his long life, Rabbi Twerski made use of every moment. Besides treating patients, authoring books, and traveling the world to lecture and advise, Rabbi Twersky founded multiple organizations including Nefesh, an organization for mental health workers, the Kollel Learning Center, and Transitions, for boys from Orthodox homes battling substance addiction. Pittsburgh resident Mike Pasternak, co-founder of Transitions, described Rabbi Twerski as “an amazing person who cared about everyone. Every day I spent with him was an experience seeing someone be the ultimate mensch, caring for everybody.”

Besides his work as psychiatrist and spiritual leader, he was a gifted singer and composer. Rabbi Yisroel Rosenfeld of the Lubavitch Center of Pittsburgh said that Rabbi Twerski “had a beautiful voice and was a great composer of songs… He was an unusual kind of person. A person that was down to earth, but at the same time very spiritual. He had a foot in and was able to reach out and be effective in the entire world.”

Rabbi Twerski died in Israel on January 31, 2021 at age 90 and was survived by his wife Dr. Gail Bessler-Twerski, four children, and many grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great grandchildren. His first wife Golda died in 1995. Rabbi Twerski’s will specified that there should be no eulogies at his funeral, instead mourners should sing a melody he composed for the words of Psalms 28:9, “Deliver and bless Your very own people; tend them and sustain them forever.”

For saving lives and blessing the entire world with his saintly presence, we honor Rabbi Abraham Joshua Twerski as this week’s Thursday Hero. May his memory be a blessing.

[yuri-for-businesswomen]

some of yall should consider unlearning your superiority complex regarding drugs for real. you can talk about the issues with drugs from production to trade, addiction and social consequences without demonising individual drug users. if you want to be supportive of homeless, mentally ill, prostituted, traumatised and otherwise marginalised women - who obviously are not all on drugs but might be at a higher risk - you cant go around and scream about how evil they are for struggling with addiction and substance abuse.

a lot of people with substance abuse issues have started young and often have a family history of drug and alcohol abuse. and if this is the case for you and you didnt develop addiction - congratulations, good for you. if you could just turn addiction on and off, a lot of people would be a lot happier, but fact is that most people with addiction will relapse even if they try going sober, and guilt just makes it more difficult to stop.

if i have to see one more feminist comparing drug use to watching porn i will go feral. porn is harmful to the people in it and women as a group, drugs are primarily self harm. which is an issue but not a moral failure. a lot of porn consumption is literally getting off on violence, the product is the harm done to others, meanwhile buying drugs - like many other products under capitalism - is supporting a system that sadly exploits the most vulnerable without enacting or even engaging with violence yourself. and additionally, a lot of women exploited by the sex industry are on drugs. now what? they are the same as porn consumers? fuck off.

of course it is unethical to buy drugs when it directly supports gang violence, and i understand that someone whose home and people they know have been destroyed by drug use or the drug trade doesnt have the patience for drug users, but its also extremely oversimplified to think these issues will be solved if people just stopped buying drugs. 

blaming drug users for gang members raping and murdering women as a feminist is fucking wild. a woman smoking a joint is responsible for a gang member sexually assaulting another woman? like okay. people also dont need chocolate or coffee which is produced under infamously exploitative conditions with no regard for human rights, should people stop buying that also, or is it more useful to the workers to establish fair trade and urge governments to force corporations to adhere to human and workers rights? what good is it to coca farmers to demonise drug users when gang violence is a result of systemic destabilisation of governments and poverty in production countries as well as the war on drugs, which is directly supported by the demonisation and stigmatisation of addicts?

and dont get me started on gendered aspects of gang violence and how masculinity and machismo play into it. if gangs dont sell drugs, they go more into human and sex trafficking, weapons, and other shit, as long as corruption and poverty are not alleviated. the local drug dealer is also just trying to get by and make cash in a rigged system.

in my humble opinion, legalisation of production, trade and consumption would help both the regions where its produced and the people affected and exploited in the drug trade as well as addicts because a fair trade, workers rights and unions and so on could be established, and money saved on persecuting drug dealers and users could go into rehabilitation programs, and taxes could be used to support everyone involved. resources wasted on the war on drugs could be used to fight remaining gang activity. and so on!

drug use in dedicated places and moderation just like alcohol is not the issue, the issues are one: the production and trade, which is illegalised and criminalised and because of this in the hands of brutal gangs (while other products under capitalism are in the hands of unregulated corporations who care as much about human rights and dignity as gangs do); and two: addiction and other consequences of substance abuse like lowered inhibitions and the link to domestic abuse and other violence, which is also not helped when drug users are stigmatised and buying drugs is criminalised.

i completely understand if you personally take issue and voice criticism of buying drugs especially towards privileged westerners as someone from a country of production, all im asking is some more nuance and as a feminist, compassion with women who have substance abuse issues. no need to coddle anyones feelings, but most addicts - especially women - already feel bad about struggling with addiction and frankly dont need women telling them what a terrible person they are for it, or be told they are just like people who get off on sexual violence.

[last-chance-luca]

‼️OUT OF CHARACTER‼️

This blog is a WIP. But here’s a quick rundown of what I’m trying to build…

***🔞TW: themes and mentions of Substance Abuse, Drugs, Alcohol, and the Military🔞***

(Not sure how commonly Military themes are triggers for folks, but I included it just in case, ya know?)

The Character

Luca Jirani is an addict in recovery. He recently moved from Unova to Paldea to partake in the Academy’s residential rehabilitation program. Part of that program is being given a Pokémon to raise and train. I have yet to decide what Pokémon that will be, though I am leaning towards a Sprigatito. I am potentially open to suggestions and/or in character adoptions from Rotomblr pokemon shelters, breeders, and adoption agencies though! Message or submit an Ask!

The World

I’m still hammering out the details, but here’s some of the essential bits and bobs…

- Rotomblr is a literal function/app on the Rotom phone. It appeared shortly after Rotom phones were invented, prior to them even becoming mainstream. Everyone has it, and most everyone uses it! No one knows who developed it. Many people have tried, and failed, to uncover the truth.

- BUT!!! …in my interpretation of this world, Rotomblr was created by a group of Pokémon: an Alakazam with an Electric Terra Type, several Porygon, and a secret alliance with Rotom-kind. Its existence and integrity is protected and blessed by the Legendary Lake Guardian Trio: Uxie, Azelf, and Mesprit

- I interpret the Academy in Mesagoza to be a GIGANTIC, all encompassing educational institution that is funded by the Paldean government. It covers ALL forms of education, including (but not limited to) pre-K, elementary/primary school, high school/secondary school, undergraduate and postgraduate university, professional certification for non-degree requiring jobs (e.g. trades), and life skills educational programs. They also host therapeutic educational programs, such as residential units to treat people with mental health issues and rehabilitation units. However, these are run out of separate buildings, away from the “main” school building that players spent most of their time at in the games.

- The Academy is technically called “Paldea Academy”…but most folks just call it “The Academy”. This is so I don’t have to choose between Scarlet and Violet being “the canon”.

- The canon characters (Nemona, Penny and Arven) exist. Luca may run into them. But it’s not a big priority for me.

- The Main Character (AKA The Player Character) also exists! But…no one remembers their name or gender for some reason. They’re also really hard to recognize because they frequently change up their look at salons. The only bonafide way to ID them is the fact that they ride “a weird Cyclizar”. It might be fun to include them in a background cameo at some point!

- The events of the game Pokemon Scarlet/Violet happened 2 years ago. In my writings, Team Star is officially disbanded, though there are some who cling to vestiges of it for sense of nostalgia and belonging, others because of a feared loss of identity, and a few who try to revive it in a bid for power. Sada/Turo are not present due to the canon events, the Great Crater is more secured against infiltration, and knowledge of what lives within is either highly classified or merely rumors. I’m not too interested in exploring any of that at this time.

- The canon teachers exist, but are more akin to Educational Department Heads. They occasionally teach courses in person though, if a member of their teaching staff is sick/on leave. My focus isn’t on interacting with them, though Luca may occasionally run into them.

- The canon gym leaders and elite 4 exist. Luca may encounter them on his Pokémon journey, but that also is not my focus.

- Champion Ranked Trainers are more than just “really good Pokémon trainers”. I’ve got a lot to sort out yet with regards to this, but I interpret them as functioning as a mix between the Rangers in previous iterations of the Pokémon series, and the military in the real world. Just as in the real world military, there are different “branches” that Champion Trainers can serve in after reaching their rank, and I haven’t thought them all out yet. But some quick ideas of them are Rangers, Sky Force, Navy, Regional Security, Cyber Security, Medical Corps, and the Engineering Division. ALL Champion Ranked Trainers are capable battlers, but their Pokémon team composition and known moves varies depending on what branch they serve in and their MOC (“Military Occupational Code”, AKA their job)

- Real world drugs and alcohol brands will not exist here in this story. I’d rather imagine different, in-universe substances and habits. Some may be analogous or similar in effect to real world drugs though. For such heavy topics, I feel that an appropriate veneer of fantasy can make them easier and less frightening to approach, both as a writer and as a human.

- Alcohol as a substance will still exist, and terms such as wine, whiskey, and beer may be used to describe things. I will do my best to accurately and judiciously tag any posts with such content, in the spirit of goodwill and respect for my fellow humans who may not want to be exposed to such things.

The Story / This Blog’s Style

The “story” will deal with some mature themes, such as struggling with addiction, homelessness, poverty, the search for meaning, and trying to build a better life in the wake of self-destructive behaviors. The posts here will be a blend of Luca’s in-character Rotomblr posts, Luca’s Rotomblr reblogs, links to written chapters of Luca’s story, and art of my characters.

The Focus / My “Why”

I like Pokémon. It’s my favorite franchise. What’s not to love about colorful animals with superpowers, coming of age stories, and themes of friendship? I’ve always wanted to make a story about my own character in a Pokémon world, and I feel that participating in the tumblr Rotomblr community is a great way to get into it.

I’m also going through a lot in my life right now…. I’m a disabled person fresh off my 3rd time in an inpatient psych unit, and I’m attending a residential rehab program for the first time in my life. Life’s kinda a hot mess right now. It is sometimes very hard for me, in my heart, to have faith that I can fix my life and to hope for a better future…even though I fully believe in those thing in my head. I’m hoping that by reflecting on my recovery journey and recreating it with a fictional character, I will be better able to enact my values in my daily life.

Like me, Luca will go through hard things. He will feel pain, he will fail, he will be an unlikeable person at times, he will have dreams that don’t pan out…and through it all, he will get better and grow as a person. Just like me. Just like all of us struggling with things.

This is a going to be a story of hope, healing, and overcoming a painful past. I am a big fan of the idea of being saved by the narrative. This is not to say that I am necessarily a fan of “plot armor” or “Mary Sues”, both of which have their respective places but have come to embody more negative and distasteful connotations in our modern era. I like to believe we can all better save ourselves and make it easier to be saved by others if we work to develop a fiercely, often defiantly, positive internal narrative. To be positive in the face of adversity, to create hope in our heart when we can’t find it elsewhere…that’s been the most important survival skill I’ve ever learned.

It’s fine if you disagree with the notion. Though I humbly ask that you please don’t be a hater on my blog.

Final Comments

I’ve literally never made an intro post for anything, so…I hope this one was alright! 😅 If you read this far…thanks. It means a lot. Stick around, I’ll have some cool stuff here soonish.

Oh, and also…sorry I don’t have much of a profile pic yet. I want to draw one of Luca, but have been a bit busy. I’m a recovering perfectionist, lol! I’ll try to replace the default triangle one with something. …sooner or later

The banner picture is from the actual Pokémon anime (copyright GameFreak and Nintendo….I assume).

BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY, it was made usable for fellow Pokémon fans by the talented WillDinoMaster55 on DeviantArt. You can find his other free to use Pokémon backgrounds on his page HERE. If you have a DA account, please be a generous soul and fave or comment on the man’s work. He’s created a truly amazing resource for our fandom!

None of my art or writing is AI generated or inspired. Nor will it ever be. The created thing is not the point for me, it is the joy of creating.

If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, submit an ask or message me! ✉️

If you’re a fellow Rotomblr blogger with suggestions, I’d be happy if you messaged me! 📨

If you want to roleplay or collaborate on something, I would be super duper excited if you message me! 💌

…I like messages! I don’t get a lot of them (yet). And I’d really love to try and connect with folks in the Rotomblr community!

I don’t bite, but I do have a kinda chaotic life right now, and am infamously bad at remembering to reply sometimes. This is my side blog, not 100% sure if I want to link my main blog…it’s more weird and stuff. What can I say? I’m a human. Maybe I will someday. But not right now.

[roarwellnessindia]

What to Expect at a Drug Rehabilitation Centre in Delhi

Drug addiction is a pressing concern, affecting countless individuals and families in urban hubs like Delhi. Seeking help from a drug rehabilitation centre in Delhi can be a transformative step toward recovery.

[maelihi]

Morbid Headcanons.

please please PLEASE do not read if you are sensitive to the following topics: sexual assault, drinking, pill abuse, hypersexuality, violence or graphic depictions of wounds and others- thank you. and stay safe <3

number one: (drug addiction and violence) balto has a pain pill addiction due to breaking his back in military school, and he gets addicted to them around his senior year of highschool. he doesn’t think much of it, until he injures his friend, and sends them to the hospital. this was a wake up call, and he went to a rehabilitation program.

number two: (sexual topics and child exposure) daniel is very cautious when it comes to sexual activity and encounters, since he was exposed to p*rn*graphy at a young age. this is related to a close story of mine, just to clarify. he often uses this soft mental state to cope with the fact that a lot of his earlier childhood memories are sometimes riddled with memories of the XXX tapes. like a more secretive way to age regress, and kind of feel calmer to a point.

number three: (child abuse and favoritism) further in life, garte ends up being an alcoholic and verbally and physically abused both vylad and zane. he would be pressuring garroth, but because of how garroth stood out, he was nervous that he would be caught as an abuser if garroth came out, since he would most likely be believed.

number four: (anger issues, abuse and discrimination) katelyn has severe, untreated anger issues, that harm both her and the people around her. she punches things, which injure her hands, and she kicks things, which caused her to permanently damage her foot. she also sometimes hurts people, such as travis, dante, and kawaii~chan. she’s also kind of ‘speciest’ towards werewolves, and would do many things offensive- (barking, saying ‘furry’ out loud, which i believe is the equivalent to a slur in aphs universe.)

number five: (stalking and implied assault) ein is incredibly stalker-ish. and he develops his whole personality around other people. he’s incredibly touchy, and back in his earlier days he wouldn’t take no for an answer. ever. this caused him to be outcasted. this kind of goes hand in hand with the idea that dottie, rylan, and daniel are also a bit clingy, and almost unaware of personal space and they are friends. (though in my au werewolves are very touchy, just in general.)

number six: (grooming and satanic themes) zenix. zenix was most likely in a way groomed by gene. in my au, gene was 18, and zenix was 14 when they met, and zenix was extremely religious, and was afraid of drugs and alcohol. gene came along and wanted a posse, a defense- and so zenix was one of who he chose, and he coerced him into a more satanic way of life and encouraged him to do substances, to be ‘cool’. (let it be known i have no problem with any religion, and everyone should be accepted <3)

number seven: (toxic relationships) in my au, ivan is transgender. his family was very against this, and were very horrible people. ivan then adopted a more stoic, masculine edge and personality, wanting to be threatening, and wanting people to fear him, respect him. he tried to be too controlling over lucinda, wanting to make her a kind of stay at home ‘lady’. and was very screamy when she was against it. ivan is a virgin, and very pissy about it.

number eight: (this one involves wounds and some limited gore) when aaron was very young, and because he was the ultima- he would have random bursts of anger, and aggression. and he would sometimes kill animals and tear them open, for the smell of blood, because he was unable to control himself. this caused him a great deal of pain, and caused him to be more desensitized to death later in life.

number nine: (desperation, homelessness and possessiveness) ein, jax and ryder are very possessive of one another, since ein took them in when ryder got kicked out for his behavior, and jax ran away from home. they are very toxic towards one another, and cannot be away from each other long, as it causes them distress.

number ten: (drug usage, juvie, and violence + gore) blaze was framed when someone put marijuana in his bag, causing him to go to juvie. while in there, not only did he end up actually smoking weed, he also got addicted to cigarettes. also while in prison is where he got the scar across his nose, where a kid ended up slicing his face over a pack of cigars. blaze is very shaky when in dangerous situations, since he has witnessed many injuries happen in juvie.

reminder: all of these are in some connection to me or my experiences. thank you and stay safe <3

[dystopicjumpsuit]

OC Sunday: Jurij "Doc" Vega (OC of @ladyzirkonia)

Who's that I see? My cyberpunk crush Doc?! I'm honored, Z! 🩵💜🩵💜

Oisin sends his regards and says to tell Doc to stop dodging Benduday dinner. He's worried that she's not eating enough. 😘

Want a Datafile for your Star Wars OC? Find out how to get one here! Or check out other OC Datafiles I’ve created here!

Transcript in alt text and below the cut.

GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC

Personnel Datafile

Name: Jurij Vega

Rank: Major (Specialist/Senior Surgeon)

Identifying number: MO-7599

Duty assignment: Medical Corps Coruscant, Research Department Coruscant 

Status: Active

Service Record

Commendations: Distinguished Service Medal for innovative advancements in cybernetic technology and surgical procedures

Qualifications: Doctorate in clone genetics (topic: enhanced senses and desirable mutations)

robotics engineer specialized in cybernetic implants

Medical record: 

vicarious traumatization

early symptoms of compassion fatigue

genetic disposition of schizophrenia

Remarks:

attended the medical engineering faculty at Coruscant Academy

maintains relationships with researchers on the core worlds

collaboration with the research department on Kamino and support of the clone rehabilitation program

under surveillance:

possible connection to anti-war and clone activist movement (Robert Zane Weaver)

resistance to state authority (CC-1010)

possible connections to the underworld

possible drug abuse

[scariusaquarius]

rehab.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: I couldn't help myself. I really think it would be cool to navigate Bucky's mind within a situation like this, so I really hope that this takes off honestly. I saw another writer on AO3 (@sunny_shadows, PLEASE check out their work, Shattered Under Midnight, it is fucking phenomenal) do story notes and explanations after the chapter, so I wanted to try that out as well! I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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rehab masterlist.

Cryogenic frost was a completely different kind of frost. It was invasive; delving into every crack and crevice that it could; went into every orifice possible until you were cold from deep within. It hit you internally first; freezing your organs and bones first before it began to spread out to the muscles and tendons and fat of the human body.

It was uncomfortable, and when it was time to come out of the pod; the melting frost left behind such uncomfortable feelings that would have you desperately messing with your ears until the melted frost drained.

Don't even get Bucky started on the way his balls felt after.

It was an all-around uncomfortable feeling; disorienting and sickening that Bucky could recall some times when he would be taken out of cryo that he would throw up from the vertigo and aching that would come from deep within.

Even now, he could feel the tresses of nausea poking at his stomach as he stared up at the cryostasis pod that was steaming as it opened.

"You know, I think I vaguely remember telling you that I wasn't the only Winter Soldier...and I thought Zemo had killed the remaining Winter Soldier's back in Siberia."

His tone was annoyed, accusing, and the response that Bucky got back didn't make him feel any better about what his old-time friend was doing.

"Well, it seems Zemo was lying or he just wasn't aware that there were more soldier's within the program."

Steve then sighed as Bucky continued to stare at him, his brow furrowed deeply and making Steve return the look.

"Listen, with HYDRA being gone from these facilities, someone needs to rescue these people and rehabilitate them...just like we did with you."

Bucky's brow creased, and he was unrelenting as he turned to Steve, shaking his head.

"You don't understand. Without a handler, some of them can't be rehabilitated. I've trained these people, Steve, there's no getting through to them."

"We got through to you, didn't we? Besides, it wouldn't be right to leave these people in these pods like this."

Bucky's lips pursed and he spun around to face the cryostasis again, his metal arm whirring as the plates shifted; ready for a fight.

"That was different. You were my friend before everything...these people don't have anybody to bring them back."

Steve was quiet, concentrating on the pod. Slowly, a form began to show; boots, familiar leather pants, the same vest, and the same mask. Bucky couldn't help the tightening in his chest when he realized that the person in the pod wasn't just a Winter Soldier: they seemed to be a young woman; their hair becoming wet as the frost within it began to melt.

Beside the pod was a black book; most likely with notes about who the Soldier was and how to activate them, and Steve asked gently as the Soldier opened their eyes.

"Do we need to use the book?"

"I don't know."

Bucky was taken back by the brilliant (e/c) eyes that flicked to him for a moment before looking straight; and when the woman tried to take a step, they began to crumple to the ground. Steve jumped over the control center to catch them, giving Bucky a slightly miffed look as Bucky's feet stayed planted to the ground.

It was too familiar; too known, and Bucky was uncomfortable. He watched as Steve dragged the woman to a chair and sat her down, asking her.

"Hello, are you alright?"

She was unmoving and unblinking, staring straight ahead like a good soldier should and Bucky swallowed thickly, shaking his head. Steve asked her again, but Bucky shook his head a little more.

"She's not going to answer. You're not her handler."

"Okay, then how do we get through to her?"

Bucky pursed his lips, sighing heavily before he stood in front of the woman.

"укажите свое обозначение."

Her eyes came to life for a moment, glancing up at Bucky with a look that he knew all-too-well before she glanced back down; clenching her jaw.

"Зимний Солдат."

Bucky sighed deeply, rubbing his temples slightly, and Steve just observed, his blue eyes curious as he glanced between the two of them. Bucky then took the black book, noting the way the woman's shoulders seemed to square slightly; muscles in her neck tensing, and Bucky felt sick to his stomach. He handed it to Steve, muttering.

"There might be some information in here about her. If not, we'll look into the files we downloaded...if we have time."

Steve nodded, and Bucky turned to the woman again, asking.

"Что ты помнишь?"

"Невозможно завершить. Для выполнения инструкций необходимы дополнительные разъяснения."

Bucky frowned again, muttering to himself before he asked.

"Что ты помнишь перед тем, как тебя уложили спать?"

Her jaw clenched again, and this time, she seemed hesitant to answer. Her eyes flicked up to Bucky, and he could see the uncomfortable look she was giving him within her eyes. The person that was in there was trying to respond; trying to tell him, but the programming wasn't allowing her to answer. Fear flashed in her eyes from the inability to complete his request, and Bucky could feel his throat trying to close up.

HYDRA was getting better at their programming, it seemed.

"I'm not going to hurt you if you're unable to answer. We are not HYDRA."

Confusion flashed within her eyes though her expression never wavered, and Steve stepped forward.

"We're with the Avengers...do you know who we are?"

"Невозможно завершить. Требуется дополнительная аутентификация."

Steve turned to Bucky and suggested, crossing his arms slightly.

"This might be a job for Shuri. We should contact King T'Challa and set out for Wakanda as soon as possible."

Bucky pursed his lips before he turned to the woman, her fists clenched slightly.

"Следуй за мной, солдат. У меня есть для тебя миссия."

She stood up immediately, her eyes becoming dead again as the programming within her mind forced her to follow the commands of The Winter Soldier.

"Готов соблюдать."

Bucky hated it. He hated this feeling; of being the one on the opposite side of the glass; giving orders and handling. While Bucky had trained many super soldiers before, he wasn't ever a Handler like Brock Rumlow or Alexander Pierce. He was another instrument; another tool that just had higher privileges because of his compliance and performance record.

He had learned early on that resistance was futile and met with much harsher consequences.

No, the Winter Soldier's only purpose was to serve HYDRA and to further their cause. That was all. Anything that didn't involve a mission was null. He, among others like him, were only meant to serve the purpose of HYDRA and HYDRA alone.

But he hadn't activated her nor told her that he was her handler, so why was the soldier complying?

Was it possible that the woman had been frozen long enough that the programming was malfunctioning? Was she just assuming that Bucky was her handler because of his arm?

Or was it possible that she was faking it on pre-existing orders given before she was put under.

Bucky glanced over his shoulder at the soldier, the woman's eyes still just as dead-looking as they had been before; looking straight ahead. For a moment, however, her eyes flicked to his, and Bucky frowned before he turned to Steve, muttering.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

Steve's brow was furrowed, lips slightly pursed as he glanced over at Bucky, worry within his eyes.

"You having a bad feeling is never a great sign."

Bucky almost scoffed, but refrained from doing-so; elaborating on his thoughts about the situation instead.

"I never gave her any indication that I was her handler nor did I activate her. What if she has pre-existing orders?"

Steve frowned, his tone becoming more hushed as he walked a bit closer to Bucky.

"Are you saying that she's a threat?"

"Any Winter Soldier is a threat, but I don't know if she's an active threat or not is the problem. She's blankly following orders...either someone gave her a mission before she was put under or...it's possible she thinks that I am still...with HYDRA. We should be careful."

Steve glanced back behind him to look at the woman before glancing down at the black book within his hands. As the three of them walked to the quinjet, Steve instructed Bucky as he sat down at the controls.

"You go ahead and get her strapped in and call Shuri. I'm going to see if there's anything in here about who she is and where she came from."

Bucky nodded before he turned to the woman who was standing in the middle of the jet; rigid and unmoving. Bucky sighed slightly before instructing.

"Присаживайтесь."

Wordlessly, the soldier sat down, strapping herself into one of the seats, and Bucky took a long glance at her. To a normal; outside perspective, it would look as though she was completely still and robotic. It would seem as though she wasn't even breathing; a blank stare to the opposite wall and deathly still.

However, to a fellow soldier, Bucky could tell that there was something on the woman's mind. The soldier's fists were clenched as they rested upon the top of her thighs, eyebrow furrowed just slightly, and Bucky could tell that her feet were fidgeting inconspicuously.

If Bucky didn't know any better, he'd say that the woman seemed nervous.

But what about?

Bucky wasn't able to ponder the thought any longer. Instead, he simply just looked ahead and began to call Shuri, hoping that this wasn't going to end up in a fight.

~

STORY NOTES: In the beginning, Bucky is remembering what it was like to be put into a cryostasis pod. He recalls that it was uncomfortable and that the frost and ice seem to penetrate every orifice possible, which is extremely uncomfortable when being thawed.

Then, it is revealed that Bucky and Steve Rogers are on a mission to find any remaining super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program that weren't killed by Zemo, which Bucky is apprehensive about but Steve is adamant on doing.

The soldier within the cryostasis pod then awakens after being thawed, seeming to be completely blank. When Steve tries to make contact, the soldier does not respond, leaving Bucky to resort to acting as a Handler, finally getting responses out of the soldier.

While trying to ask the soldier for information, Bucky is unable to get anything useful from the woman. He makes an educated guess that HYDRA had further adapted their programming, making it difficult to make the soldier talk without having to completely activate them.

Steve decides to take a trip to Wakanda to see Shuri and T'Challa so they can rehabilitate the soldier just as they did with Bucky, but Bucky begins to think that the soldier is a threat due to their compliance despite Bucky not activating them nor introducing himself as their handler.

Bucky makes a final observation, noting that the woman seems nervous, though Bucky is unable to figure out what about. He speculates further that there could be foul play, and is unhappy at the possibility of a fight. End Scene.

TRANSLATIONS:

укажите свое обозначение - Indicate/State your Designation

Зимний Солдат - Winter Soldier

Что ты помнишь - What do you remember?

Невозможно завершить. Для выполнения инструкций необходимы дополнительные разъяснения - Unable to complete. Further clarification is required to complete the instructions.

Что ты помнишь перед тем, как тебя уложили спать - What do you remember before you were put to bed/sleep?

Невозможно завершить. Требуется дополнительная аутентификация - Unable to comply. Additional authentication required.

Следуй за мной, солдат. У меня есть для тебя миссия - Follow me, soldier. I have a mission for you.

Готов соблюдать - Ready to comply.

Присаживайтесь - Have a seat.

[batmancomicanalysis]

Return of The Joker flashback analysis

Setup:

The Joker kidnapped the child/teenage Robin Tim Drake and tortured him for three weeks. Exactly how he tortured him for that duration is largely left to the imagination but sexual abuse (the plunger, whoopie cushion) is implied, along with the electrocution and drugging that The Joker mentions. The Joker broke Robin's resistance over time and Robin confessed that Bruce Wayne was Batman, betraying the Bat-family. The result of this extreme traumatisation was that Robin was rendered mute and servile, turned into a grotesque parody (Joker refers to him as "Joker Junior": a nod to Robin being Batman's surrogate son who Batman had made in his image, mocking Batman with the insinuation that he'd taken his son from him and destroyed him mentally), with a fixed grimace, wide maniacal eyes and an anguished repetitive laugh.

The Joker (who invited Batman to his hideout) mocks Batman as "a little boy in a playsuit crying for mommy and daddy" and Batman administers a savage beating, threatening to "break you in two". The Joker turns the tables on Batman, incapacitates him and throws a gun to Robin/Joker Junior, telling him to "make daddy proud, deliver the punchline" and kill Batman. Laughing to himself, Robin targets Batman, pulls the trigger and a "BANG!" flag emerges from the gun. An injured, dispirited Batman says "Tim..." and Robin seems to fight against the brainwashing, pulling the gun downwards. The Joker demands that Robin "Do it!" and with significant difficulty, Robin switches targets at the last moment and shoots The Joker. The Joker utters "That's not funny, that's not..." before gasping and falling to the ground dead. Robin's maniacal laughter turns to crying as tears flood down his cheeks and he's consoled by Batgirl.

Analysis:

This scene has many parallels with The Killing Joke:

The Joker kidnaps and mutilates/tortures a member of the Bat family/surrogate family member

The Joker invites Batman to his hideout after the completion of his plan and Batman's failure to locate him

The "one bad day/sufficient trauma can make anyone insane/evil" concept

The "flag from a fired gun saving Batman" motif

Batman threatens to kill The Joker

The Joker (arguably) dies

If The Joker was trying to prove that "All it takes is one bad day..." then Robin had three weeks worth of them and The Joker still failed to totally break him, though Robin does overcome Batman's "No kill rule" programming rather than dropping the gun, so in that sense The Joker proved his point, as he likely did in TKJ.

The story implicitly asks: "Why didn't Batman kill The Joker years ago?" and "Why does Batman recruit child soldiers like Tim to take on psychopathic masterminds like The Joker?" It's these questions which were probably most critical in making a large part of Robin want to kill Batman.

The Joker is totally humiliated with his ironic death: all of his planning and his three weeks of torture failed, his philosophy was disproven to some extent, he was killed by the kid Robin of all people (who The Joker likely despised most of all, as a surrogate son for Batman, a rival for Batman's attention and a symbol of the power of Batman's ideals, now and in the future) and Batman survived. He is so bemused and defeated that he can't even find macabre humour in his demise (unlike his deaths/potential deaths in Miller's TDKR, Moore's TKJ, Nolan's TDK etc.)

The Joker's torture and brainwashing of the young Robin shares several parallels with the secret CIA illegal experimentation program MKUltra: mind control techniques, trauma-based programming, identity destruction, forced confessions, the implantation of homicidal tendencies, persistent nightmares even decades post-rehabilitation and the creation of a sleeper agent. It could be read as a political commentary, equating the psychopathic, child-torturing Joker with the U.S. government.