#tw toxic aunt

[justamessedupdisneyprincess]

I need help, my life is now a living hell. (TW suicide attempt mention)

I know this is gonna annoy a lot of you for bitching and whining again but as of late my life has been really hard. I had to sell my soul and my life to a demon against my will. There is a toxic parasite I want to cut ties with but can’t. I am talking about a toxic family member who has no respect for boundaries and loves to judge and be rude to everyone around her.

I just really need some help rn guys because at this rate it really feels like I can either endure and sacrifice my sanity for as long as she lives or I could only ever end it via suicide. I have tried to do it twice while she was down and my mother has to hide away medication so I don’t overdose and sharp things such as knives and scissors when her new favourite person ever, her karen on steroids sister is here.

To paint a picture there is a story about when I was a baby with my cousin and toxic aunt. My toxic aunt would use grandma ( her mother) as a slave whenever she came to visit her grandson. “Now that you’re here I want you to do EVERYTHING for him while I go and bitch and whine about coffee and ask to see managers (I’m not joking. She literally does that. Saw it multiple times when she stays with us.). Whilst my Mom would offer to do fun activities with her and us, like go to the beach, etc. Because of this she enjoyed our company more than my toxic aunt who threw a tantrum over it. “You love my sister’s daughters more than my son!”. She got so pissed that she moved out of our place during a vacation. Mother offered to have my cousin and grandma to play in the pool with me and my sister whilst she helped my toxic aunt pack. She EXPLODED over that! Why? Idk. She then stormed into the house screaming and it woke baby me up and I was sobbing. Dad got mad and told her to get out and we had nothing to do with her until grandma died.

She hasn’t changed at all. Very toxic, always complaining and saying horrible things behind our backs. I had multiple extreme meltdowns when she came. She stayed for four whole months last year. One summer, one spring, one for every season. She has this rule too where only she is allowed to talk, all she does to complain and she gets weirdly excited when someone else is struggling…she loves to happily talk about others misfortunes and then she finds no joy in going to the beach and going out for lunch. Instead she complains constantly and it ruins the whole day. Mother told me she says the most horrible things about me behind my back too…which gets her upset but she puts up with it because she is going through a divorce. We put up with her rude behaviour out of pity. I understand how hard getting divorced is but it shouldn’t excuse…whatever the fuck she is doing to us. Mother and I got into extreme arguments because of her as well and we rarely fight. My toxic aunt turns my parents against me. I’m freaking out because she is going to come down again.

Last time she claimed to be more respectful of our boundaries. “We don’t have to do something every day, I’m ok to hang out by myself every now and then.” Then she guilt trips us by saying “I don’t know why I bother coming down here if I’m going to be alone.” Over me wanting to spend ONE fucking weekend alone with my mom out of an ENTIRE month of her hovering around us and never shutting up. She also loves to interrupt. I would be in the middle of saying something and she cuts in as if I’m worth nothing! Then I can’t even say anything because she never shuts up ever! Then when I am blessed with a moment of talking (usually because mother says Izzy has something to say) I get nervous about saying something she will judge me for!

She belittles every trigger of mine too. Once I used to like this cafe and she has this huge obsession with their muffins. I don’t go there anymore though because some mean teenage girls work there now and they have been openly rude to me two times when I visited. So rude I ended up crying once. I didn’t want to go back (keep in mind I have been bullied a lot as well, I have a huge fear of mean girls) My aunt gave me this huge lecture about it and tried to force me to go in just so she can get her muffins. I felt completely shattered as she gave me a hard time over it. In the end mother figured out her angle and just dropped her off there whilst I waited in the car…for her to do that though about my own experiences and my triggers and not wanting to return to a cafe with rude service…it was just so insensitive.

She used to say rude things to me because of me displaying typical autistic traits like my weird eating habits and my special obsessions. Mother made her stop saying things to my face but she told me she just says judgemental things behind my back now and she gives me this god awful judgemental stare when we go out to eat…She also shows no respect for mental illnesses such as anxiety, saying it’s not real. She also once made fun of someone who committed suicide…which shows how she isn’t really a good person. She picks at Mom and gives her a hard time and openly judges her and says rude things to her and mother always bottles it and takes it out on me in the end because the one who HAD been rude to her is going through a divorce.

I never want to have to endure her abusive behaviour again but I’m completely powerless. I feel so hopeless. Idk what to do..

[dis--mayed]

My mom hates Trump and doesn't really care that someone is, apparently, falsely accusing him of assault (most likely, she was just trying to tell me brother to fuck off by saying she "doesn't care"). My brother started yelling at her about how Trump is a victim and he doesn't want to see him prosecuted for something he didn't do.

My brother has spent THIRTY FUCKING YEARS blaming our mom for how HE was accused of rape by someone he chose to fuck and has spent 25+ years blaming her for encouraging him to take a plea deal, where he was made a tier one sex offender, after he repeatedly broke the fucking probation he was only put on, again, for RAPE. He's now tier two for refusing to register and sits in my home, smoking weed and vapes with the SSI my mom got him on.

This girl accused another boy of rape, btw, and he took the same deal as my brother.. don't know what happened to him.. but I guess my mom ruined his life, too, right????

[pedrospatch]

someone to be thankful for

DBF! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: It’s Thanksgiving—when dinner with your nightmare of a family goes south, you find comfort in the person you least expect it from: your father’s best friend, Joel Miller.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (AU, NO OUTBREAK) non canon, DBF! Joel, AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s, i do not specify her age, but she’s a recent college grad so do with that what you will, not everyone graduates at the same specific age ya know? Joel is in his mid-ish 50’s). Reader’s a teacher, she is visiting her suburban childhood home from a big city. Reader’s parents are religious and practice traditional-ish gender norms (i.e father is head of the household kinda thing) reader’s family celebrates Thanksgiving (sorry) several mentions of food and alcohol, reader’s parents suck, she has two brothers who come with names, a lot of her relatives come with names, watch out for Aunt Ines she’s a bitch. (TW) body/weight shaming (twice) PLEASE BE MINDFUL if this could be triggering. mentions of and implications of childhood abuse (not graphic) reader’s dad gets in her face, implied infidelity (reader’s dad), implied toxic marriage (reader’s parents). soft, caring, protective Joel. Joel’s recently divorced, mention of Sarah, mentions of the ex-wife. SMUT. oral sex (female receiving) p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) reader states she’s on baby blockers (birth control), creampie, DADDY KINK (bc reader clearly has a few daddy issues), LOTS of pet names (darlin’, baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, honey), size kink (ish?), cockwarming. think i got it all?

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, that is fine but just keep on scrolling.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 11.5k

a/n: yeah…idk. this was very delayed because it turned into a whole thing. if anyone actually reads all 11k of this, i will bake you muffins.

You take a deep breath and look in the mirror.

Skirt pressed, not a wrinkle in sight.

Hair brushed, not a single strand out of place.

Makeup done, not a blemish to be seen.

And somehow, someone will still find something.

Something to point out.

Something to comment on.

Something to criticize.

If not your appearance, it’ll be something else.

Because someone always had something to say.

“Should you be eating all of that?”

“Another year gone and still no boyfriend?”

“Don’t you want to get married?”

“When I was in my twenties, I had two children.”

Boundaries didn’t exist on Thanksgiving.

Actually, for your family, boundaries didn’t exist at all—somehow, they are still scratching their heads and wondering why you’d decided to up and leave the minute your high school principal handed over that diploma, your ticket to freedom.

“Sweetie!” Your mother’s shrill voice calls from the kitchen downstairs. “I need a hand! Our guests are going to start arriving soon and there is still plenty left for us to do before they get here!”

You groan outwardly.

There’s still plenty left to do?

How’s that even fucking possible?

You’ve been cooking and baking since sunrise.

“Don’t you think it’s too early?” you’d grumbled at five o’ clock in the morning when your mother had pulled you out of bed, declaring it was time for the big dinner preparations to begin—even though it’d be several hours before your family came over and gathered around the table to break bread. She had pulled the turkey out of the freezer a few days ago, a massive, thirty-pound whole bird that looked big enough to feed a small village. In addition, she had picked up a ham and a brisket. “Mom, why’s there so much food?” Rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the sleeve of your robe, you’d started making your way over to the Nespresso only to realize that the coffee machine was hidden behind paper bags full of groceries. “Are we cooking for all of Texas or something?”

“Very funny,” she had glared at you. “Of course we aren’t.” She started unwrapping the turkey. “We’re simply making sure we have enough food and that we have different options for everyone to enjoy, so knock it off with the wisecracks and get to peeling those carrots for me for the stuffing. There is not a single minute to waste today, you hear me, missy? We’re hosting a dozen people, so everything must be absolutely perfect. I won’t accept anything less than perfection today, do you understand me?”

Thirteen hours later, she’s still driving you insane.

You’re only home visiting until the end of the week and then it’s back to the Midwest. You can survive her for three more days, right?

You hear her calling your name and exhale a small, frustrated sigh. “I’m coming, mom!” you call back. It’s difficult to mask the annoyance in your tone of voice, but somehow you manage it. “One minute!”

Smoothing down your pleated plaid skirt, you take one last look in the mirror to make sure everything is in order—there is a loose thread on the sleeve of your brown, knitted sweater and you carefully snip it off with a pair of scissors before sliding your feet into the comfiest pair of ankle boots you’d packed and head downstairs, nose leading the way as you follow the warm, delicious scent of the made from scratch biscuits and rolls baking in the oven.

You find your mother standing at the center island counter garnishing a charcuterie board with sweet gherkins and sprigs of fresh herbs. She’s donning a festive apron embroidered with fall leaves over her designer dress, and her hair’s still up in rollers. “Finally, there you are,” she huffs out loudly the second she hears you walk into the kitchen. Down the hallway, your father and two younger brothers are shouting at some football game on the flat screen television in the living room—men don’t lift a single finger on this day, at least not in this household. “I need you to start setting the table for me. I have place cards in that bag over there. Make sure your dad’s at the head of the table. Oh and don’t forget to bring out the children’s table for all your little cousins—” She glances up, letting out a small gasp when she sees you. “What in the world are you wearing?”

Frowning, you look down at yourself. “Clothes?”

Her ruby red lips purse together in a tight thin line.

“Honey, that skirt is too short. It’s inappropriate.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at her. “It’s like an inch above the knee, how is that inappropriate? It’s not like it’s a miniskirt, mom.” As she eyes your skirt with disapproval, you decide you’re not in the mood to argue and say, “Okay, fine. I’ll go upstairs and change into something else then—”

“No, no, forget it,” she shakes her head. “We don’t have the time for that.” Your mother whirls around, picking up the bag of place holders—she’d special ordered little turkeys carved out of wood. She also takes a marker and a notepad, shoving everything into your hands. “Here. I wrote down all the names of everyone who’s coming for dinner. The children get place holders too but make sure the little ones are sitting beside someone older to help them. Oh! Did I already mention putting your dad at the head of the—”

Tuning her out, your eyes scan down the guest list and if there’s one thing to be thankful for today it’s the fact that your mother’s given you the power to seat everybody wherever you want. Halfway down the list, you see the names of several relatives that you don’t want anywhere near you at the table. An Aunt Miriam who smells like the inside of a casino; a cousin Jennifer who refuses to acknowledge her forty-eight month old is actually four years old; an uncle Richard who always has one too many beers and winds up spewing antigovernment conspiracy theories, ranting until he’s passed out somewhere, such as on the floor of the guest bathroom.

You get to the bottom of the list and can’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. “Joel Miller?”

She nods, returning to her board.

“You remember Mr. Miller, don’t you, sweetie? He and your father went to college together—he’s one of his oldest and dearest friends. Don’t tell me you forgot about him? You’ve met him plenty of ti—”

“Yeah, I remember who Joel is, mom,” you mutter, cutting her off. “Didn’t he and the family move out to Arizona like, four years ago? To Phoenix, right?” You’d been away for college then. Taking a second glance at the list, you notice she had forgotten the names of Joel’s wife and daughter. Surely, it’d just been a mistake on her part, though. “I had no idea they were in town visiting. Dad didn’t mention it to me at all.”

“They’re not.” She lowers her voice, as if someone else is standing in the room listening. “Joel moved back to Austin, he’s been back for a few days now. He and Connie, they um—” Pausing for a moment, she reaches up and clasps the cross hanging from her neck before whispering, “They got divorced.”

Taken aback, your mouth parts slightly. “What?”

“I know. Joel and Connie were the last people that I ever thought would get divorced. Such a shame,” your mother remarks, shaking her head. “I ran into Mrs. Adler at the super market and she was telling me all about it. Thinks they could have saved their marriage if only those two—”

“Would get right with Jesus,” you finish, biting the tiny smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “She says that about everything, mom.”

“Well, she isn’t wrong! The sacrament of marriage is a lifelong bond that shouldn’t be broken. It’s not right.” Dropping her hand away from her necklace, she crosses her arms over chest. “Anyway, Connie stayed in Phoenix. Sarah’s spending Thanksgiving with her. Your father didn’t want Joel spending the holiday alone and invited him over for dinner. That means I need you to be on your very best behavior tonight. I don’t want you embarrassing your father in front of his closest friend. Is that understood?”

You can’t help but scoff a little. “I’m not a child.”

She narrows her eyes at you and scoffs right back, planting her hands on her hips.

“No, you’re a smart aleck. Need I remind you what happened last Thanksgiving with Aunt Ines?”

Of course she didn’t have to remind you about last year’s fiasco with her insufferable bitch of a sister.

“That’s an awfully big piece of pumpkin pie,” she’d remarked loudly, eliciting snickers from everybody sitting at the table. “Don’t forget, dear—a moment on the lips, forever on the hips. And you have quite a few forevers on your hips already, darling.”

You had smiled sweetly at her, your fingers itching to fling your mother’s fine china at her. “I wouldn’t really worry about my pie, Aunt Ines,” you had said as soon as you realized that nobody, not even your parents, would be coming to your defense. “Much less when your husband’s stepping out and eating someone else’s pie when he’s away on all those so called business trips. Worry about that instead.”

That comment hadn’t gone over all too well. Three months later, Aunt Ines and Uncle Louis started to see a marriage counselor. Whoops.

“Well?”

“She deserved that,” you say, shrugging lightly.

“She’s family.”

“She’s a jerk.”

“You crossed a line.”

“She crossed it first.”

Before your mother can respond, the sound of the doorbell ringing echoes throughout the house.

“Jesus, we don’t have time for this!” Your mother’s eyes widen when she tries running a hand through her hair and realizes she still has her rollers in. “Oh no, people are arriving and I’m still not ready!” She makes a beeline for the hallway. “Get the door and greet our guests, I’ll be down in five minutes!”

She disappears upstairs into her bedroom and you hear the doorbell ring again. Your father shouts for someone to go answer it, someone other than him or your brothers because it is the end of the fourth quarter and they just can’t possibly miss that.

You make your way through the foyer and open up the front door expecting it to be one of your family members, but it’s not.

Your throat instantly goes dry at the sight of him.

He’s broader than you remeber, so much broader.

The fabric of his sage green dress shirt is nice and snug on his frame—stretched taut over the planes of his chest and his wide shoulders. He’s holding a box of store bought something or other but you’re much too preoccupied with the way the sleeves of his shirt are hugging his biceps to notice what it is although you assume it’s some kind of dessert. He looks far more delicious than whatever sweet treat could be in that white box he’s got in his hands.

After a minute, you realize you’ve been gawking at him and the heat rushes to your cheeks. “Hello Mr. Miller,” you greet him politely. “It’s very nice to see you again. Please, come on in.”

He smiles, his brown eyes warm and sweet behind his square, black-rimmed glasses. “You remember me,” he states and the syrupy richness of his voice sends a pleasant tingle up your spine. Stepping off to the side, you allow him inside—as he steps past you over the threshold, the tantalizing scent of his cologne almost brings you to your knees. Notes of a citrus accord like tart grapefruit, fresh bergamot mixed with the woodiness of vetiver and musk; it’s intoxicating, something you could easily get drunk off of if you’re not careful. “I’m surprised. S’been a real long time since you last saw me.”

“It hasn’t been all that long,” you reply, closing the door behind you. You speak to him in the steadiest voice you can muster, with nonchalance—as if you aren’t one missed heartbeat away from feeling like a silly little schoolgirl with her first crush. “Has it?”

He thinks about it. “‘Bout four and a half years.”

“That’s really not that long.”

“S’not,” Joel admits with a chuckle. “But with how much I’ve aged in that short amount of time, I just wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me, y’know? I look a lot different than I used to.” He pauses and laughs, shaking his head. “I must look like an old geezer to you now, don’t I?”

Grays lightly pepper his thick dark brown curls, his beard and his mustache. He’s got crows feet when he smiles, he has worry lines and creases between his eyebrows—he does look a lot older, but he’s so goddamn handsome, wrinkles, fine lines, and all.

You toss him a playful eye roll, prompting a grin. “I don’t think you look like an old geezer, Mr. Miller.”

“Well, you’re sure as hell makin’ me feel like an old geezer by callin’ me that, darlin’ girl.” He gives you a little wink and you’re not quite sure if it’s that, or if it was the way he’d used a pet name that knocks all the wind out of your lungs. “Please, just call me Joel.”

You nod and shyly agree to it. “Okay, then. Joel.”

“S’much better.” His grin widens and a prominent, deep dimple appears on the left side of his cheek.

There’s a silence that follows, but it’s not awkward or weird. It’s comfortable—being in his presence is comfortable. His sweet disposition makes you feel so calm, so at ease.

Joel’s always been a nice man of course, although your interactions with him had been limited—kind, quick hello’s in passing on Sundays whenever he’d come over to watch football with your dad, maybe a polite how are you here and there if you bumped into him at gatherings like a backyard barbecue or birthday party. But you’re older now, no longer the child who greeted her father’s best friend because it was bad manners if she didn’t. You don’t want to throw him that kind, quick hello or that polite how are you and then scurry off the way you used to as a little kid. You actually want to talk to Joel Miller.

But you suddenly remember he’s not here for you.

He’s here for your father.

Joel!” Your mother screeches, five-inch high heels clacking loudly as she descends the staircase. She had ditched the apron and hair rollers—and put on one too many layers of her heaviest perfume. With a delighted squeal, she rushes up to Joel and pulls him into a bone crushing hug, almost causing him to drop the box he’s still holding. “Oh, it is so good to see you! It’s been far too long!”

You force back a small, amused snort.

As if she hadn’t been judging the man for a failed marriage just minutes ago in the kitchen.

It’s performative, too over the top to be sincere.

“S’good to see you too.” He steps back and laughs as he adjusts his glasses with one of his hands. He holds out the box to her with the other. “Picked up a pecan pie on the way over here. I would’a tried to make it myself, but the kitchen’s still all packed up in boxes.” He pauses, laughing again. “Then again, I ain’t really much of a baker. Store bought was for the best I reckon,” he admits, sheepishly. When he shrugs his shoulders, his shirt strains a bit over his frame and even your mother can’t help but stare a little.

Lightly clearing her throat, she takes the box from him and reminds him, “Didn’t I tell you that all you had to bring tonight was a nice, healthy appetite?”

Joel lightly pats his stomach. “Brought that too. In fact, I didn’t eat a thing all day long. I’m absolutely starvin’ right now. Could eat a whole horse.”

“Good! Dinner’s going to be served soon. William’s in the living room with the boys, watching football game after football game. Come with me, I’m sure you’re eager to see him.” Your mother spins on her heel and hands you the dessert. “Sweetie, will you be a gem and go put this in the kitchen for me?” It isn’t a request, it’s an order masked as a request—it’s the kindest she’s been to you all day. She takes Joel’s arm and leads him down the hallway, calling out over her shoulder, “And please set the table!”

You do set the table, and when you do, you decide to sit yourself right next to Joel Miller.

Your mother lightly clinks her knife against the rim of her wine glass and clears her throat. “Everyone! It’s time to join hands and say grace before we dig into our meal,” she announces, her voice breaking through the loud, buzzing chatter at the table. She waits until there’s complete silence and then takes her seat, the chair adjacent to your father’s. You’re on his opposite side and Joel’s right beside you. “I think you should do the honor, William. You are the man of the house, after all.”

Nodding, your father begins the prayer.

“Heavenly Father, bless this food we are about—”

You’re not listening. You’re distracted by the jolt of electricity that zips through your entire body when you put your hand in Joel’s. His hand dwarfs yours and it’s rough and calloused, but somehow it’s the most gentle, soothing touch. Heat prickles at your face and neck when you feel him sweep his thumb across the back of your hand—you open your eyes and glance over at him, wondering if that had just been an accident. You’re convinced it was, until he does it again, running his finger over each knuckle one at a time. Slowly, like he’s savoring the touch.

Biting your lip, you give his hand a gentle squeeze.

His head is bowed and his eyes are still closed, but a faint smile tugs lightly at the corner of his mouth and he firmly squeezes your hand back. There’s an unmistakable desire that’s already burning deep in your lower belly, a flame you can’t extinguish even when the angel on your shoulder reminds you that not only is Joel Miller twice your fucking age, he is also your father’s best friend. His best friend.

“…through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen,” your relatives chime together in unison.

You force out the declaration. “Amen.”

“Amen,” Joel murmurs, opening his eyes. He turns to you and his gaze flits to your hand in his and for a moment, it almost seems like he doesn’t want to let it go. It feels like Joel doesn’t want to let it go—and he doesn’t. He doesn’t let it go until the sound of your father’s loud, booming voice announcing it is time for him to carve the bird startles the two of you apart. Clearing his throat lightly, Joel turns his attention forward and reaches for his cabernet. He gulps down half his glass in one easy swallow.

Dinner’s fairly uneventful.

You eat in complete silence, as does Joel.

Part of you wonders if it’s because you’re sitting in between him and your father, the only person that he’s most comfortable conversing with. Assuming this is the case, you’re just about to ask him if he’d like to trade places when he turns to you and says, “Your dad told me you went to school in Chicago.”

He’s just being friendly, you remind yourself when your heart starts to flutter wildly at the notion that he wants to talk to you. He’s friendly. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.

“Yeah. I did.” You pick up your glass of wine, taking a sip hoping it’ll ease the nerves. “I graduated over the summer and took a teaching job out there.”

“You became a teacher?”

“Yeah. I teach kindergarten.” You smile proudly.

“Can you believe that, Joel?” Your father lets out a scoff and shakes his head. “I spent thousands and thousands of dollars to send her to school. All that money and for what? For her to learn how to teach little ankle biters how to color inside the lines?” He rolls his eyes and gestures to your two brothers on the opposite side of the table. “Now my boys, they are smart. Chose good careers to pursue. Brandon starts applying to medical school in the spring. Oh and Matthew? He got early acceptance to Yale. He plans on studying law.” He shifts his attention over to you once more and shrugs. “Not too sure where I went wrong with this one.”

You stare at him in complete and utter disbelief.

“Dad.”

Chortling, he waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, come on, honey. I’m just kidding around. You know that I don’t mean it.” He then reaches out, pinching your cheek roughly. “Don’t be so sensitive,” he tells you before turning his attention back to his plate.

But he does mean it.

His comments hurt, and you hate that they hurt.

Joel nudges your arm with his. “Y’know somethin’, it takes someone real special to become a teacher, ‘specially to kids that age,” he states in a matter of fact tone. “Someone who’s real sweet and patient, someone real smart too. Someone just like you.”

Warmth radiates through your entire body. It’s not just his words, but it’s the sincerity behind them.

You shoot him a small, grateful smile.

The two of you wind up talking to one another.

Joel’s moving his contracting business, bringing it back to Austin from Phoenix to run it with Tommy, his younger brother who you vaguely remembered meeting a time or two in the past. He mentions his daughter here and there, but doesn’t bring Connie up once—perhaps it’s too painful for him? It’s hard to tell. He seems to be in good spirits and truth be told, it doesn’t appear he’s mourning his marriage; but it’s difficult to believe he’s not missing her, the woman he’d spent three decades of his life with. It shouldn’t even matter to you whether he’s missing his ex-wife or not, if there are residual feelings still lingering around. But it does matter and you don’t know why. Or maybe you do know why, but you’re too ashamed to admit it.

“Do you like Chicago?” Joel questions, curiously.

Shrugging, you respond, “Yeah. It’s a cool city.”

“You plan on stayin’ out there permanently?”

“I’m not too sure,” you admit. “It’s too expensive. I don’t want to live with a roommate forever. Unless teachers start getting paid more, I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to afford to live alone in Chicago.”

Joel seems hesitant about his next query. “Do you ever think ‘bout comin’ back to Austin at all?”

Suddenly, you’re not too sure about that either.

You’ve been itching to go back and get as far from Austin, Texas as possible, but now, it means being far from Joel Miller. There’s a deep, sinking feeling inside of your chest at the thought.

Realizing he’s still waiting for a response, you have no choice but to tell him the truth. “I don’t think I’ll ever come back here, to be honest. Not to stay.”

“Oh. I see.” He sounds disappointed. “Are you—do you plan on visitin’ home again for Christmas?”

“I do. I’ll be here for Christmas and New Year’s.”

He’s being friendly. He’s being friendly. He’s—

“It’d be real nice to see you again then.” Flushing a deep shade of red, subtle regret flashes across his features, as if he’d said it without thinking. Picking up his glass, he drains the rest of his wine and you can swear he’s nervous. About what he’d just said, and about whether or not your parents, who are in such close proximity, had overheard him. Because what business did he have in telling their daughter it would be nice to see her again?

They’re both much too preoccupied. Your father is attempting to be slick checking his text messages underneath the table and you can tell by the smirk on his face that it’s one of his secretaries. He’s got a penchant for perky blondes in tight pencil skirts. Your mother is well aware of this. She is also aware he’s on his phone, but she turns a blind eye just as she always does and distracts herself by being the perfect hostess.

Feeling foolishly courageous, you turn back to him and nod, heart pounding against your sternum. “It would. It’d be very nice, actually.”

Relieved, he nods and murmurs quietly, “We’ll talk ‘bout it later, then. That okay, darlin’?”

Not wanting to seem too eager, you nod again and turn away from him, teeth sinking into your lip in a futile attempt to hide the giddiness in your smile—but the soft chuckle Joel elicits under his breath is a clear indication that it’s useless.

He knows how he’s making you feel. He likes it.

Your mother returns from the kitchen carrying two baskets of fresh crescent rolls, one for each end of the table. She sets one of them down right in front of you and you reach out to take one when a voice, one that sounds as awful as nails scraping down a chalkboard, remarks loudly, “Should you be eating so much bread, dear?” Ines, who’s sitting a couple chairs down, next to your grandmother, looks over at you and raises an eyebrow. There’s a smug little smile on her face, almost as if she were daring you to run your mouth like you’d done last year.

For as much as it pains you, you make your choice and decide not to take the bait. You pull your hand out of the basket of rolls and pick up your glass of wine instead, chugging it down like it’s water.

Frowning, Joel picks up the basket and takes a roll that you assume is for himself, but it’s not. Putting it on your plate, he shoots her a frigid glare. “Don’t you listen to her.” He says it loud enough for her to hear him. “You just enjoy yourself, alright?”

Your aunt bats her eyes, innocently. “Well, I’m just saying. If my skirt was that tight on me, I would be thinking twice about what goes into my mouth.”

Hushed laughter sweeps across the entire table.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” You slam your empty glass down so hard onto the table that the entire dining room goes completely silent. The little ones at the children’s table stare with big and wide eyes, mouths full of food hung open because a grown up had just used a naughty word.

Your mother says your name warningly. “Don’t you start,” she hisses, shaking her head. “Be quiet.”

Angrily, you round on her. “Seriously? You’re going to let her say that to me? You don’t care that she’s making comments about my weight?” You almost laugh. Of course doesn’t care, she has never cared and she never will. “I’m your daughter! Would it kill you to defend me for once in your fucking life?”

“Shut your mouth!” Your father stands up, shoving a threatening finger into your face, so close the tip of it almost touches the tip of your nose. He hasn’t put his hands on you since you were nine, but he’s as drunk as he is angry, and you find yourself back in the shoes of the little girl who would curl up into a ball in the corner of her room as she begged and pleaded for him not to hurt her. “You hear me?”

Joel stands and walks around your chair. Placing a hand on your father’s chest, he mutters, “Hey now let’s take a step back from her, alright?” He guides him back down into his chair. “Ain’t gotta be in her face like that, Will.”

“I’m sick and tired of her ruining everything—can’t get through one dinner without her screwing it up! Always has to run that fucking mouth of hers! She still acts like a goddamn fucking child—”

You can’t bear to sit there and hear another insult.

Fighting back the hot tears that are threatening to spill over, you quickly stand up and rush out of the dining room. You make a beeline for the front door and step outside onto the porch. It’s about sixty or so degrees in Austin and the cold nips at your bare legs, but that’s the least of your worries. Without a place to go, you descend the porch steps and find yourself walking towards the swing that’s hanging from the old bur oak tree in the front yard. You had asked your father for a swing when you were three years old—it wasn’t until your brothers asked for a swing a couple years later that he’d hung one up.

You sit down, hands curling around the rope that’s so old and weathered it’s beginning to fray slightly but not so much so that you’re concerned about it snapping. You’re so busy trying to keep it together that you don’t notice the sound of crisp, autumnal leaves crunching under a pair of boots behind you. A hand gingerly touches your shoulder. You let out a startled gasp and glance over to see it’s Joel.

“Hey there, darlin’,” he says, gently.

You stare at him in surprise.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Needed to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” you grit the lie through your teeth.

Joel’s expression softens. “You ain’t gotta pretend with me, sweetheart.”

His concern is genuine. It’s real.

You don’t quite know how to handle it. Accept it.

“It got real ugly in there, ‘specially with your dad.”

Tears prickle at your eyes all over again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Joel. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Baffled, Joel walks around the swing and a minor labored grunt escapes him as he squats in front of you. “There’s a few people who need to be apologizin’ for what happened, but darlin’ you sure as fuckin’ hell ain’t one of them.”

It’s odd. Feels foreign, even.

You’re not used to someone being on your side—it prompts more tears to spring forward and despite your best efforts to fight them off, it’s useless. You manage to whisper his name. It’s a feeble warning, one that’s telling him to go back inside before he’s caught in the torrential downpour of emotions you are mere seconds away from unleashing on him.

But he doesn’t budge. He waits. Joel knows you’re about to break and he’s ready to catch the pieces.

Finally, a tear slips and rolls down your cheek, only to be followed by another and then another. You’re holding onto the swing for dear life now, emotions that you’ve been holding in for your whole life now coming to the surface. The rope digs painfully into the palms of your hands. He reaches out and curls his fingers lightly around your wrists.

“S’okay to let go,” Joel encourages you and you’re certain he’s not just referring to the swing. “Listen to me, darlin’ girl. I ain’t gonna let you fall, alright? I’m right here to catch you. You can let go. I’ve got you, okay?”

You allow Joel to take your hands off the rope and he guides them around his shoulders as you begin to crumble. Leaning forward slightly off the swing, you wrap you arms around him and bury your face into his neck. “Joel,” you choke out his name as he wraps his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer into him.

He feels like stability.

He feels like security.

He feels like safety.

Your entire body shudders as you cry, cry, cry.

“S’alright, sweet girl. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

He repeats his reassurance over and over again.

He wants you to believe it.

And you do believe it.

Joel’s as patient as can be. It’s growing colder and his knees are begging for a change of positon, but couldn’t care less about the discomfort. He rubs a soothing circle into your back and waits until there is nothing left except little hiccups and sniffles.

“Shit,” you mumble when you pull back and notice you’d left behind a wet spot on his shirt along with light traces of mascara. You wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater. “I ruined your shirt.”

“S’okay. Nothin’ the dry cleaners can’t take care of for me.” Joel chuckles and lets go of you. “You feel a little better now, darlin’?”

“I do.” You glance over your shoulder at the house, then exhale a sigh and turn back to him, admitting quietly, “I don’t want to go back in there, though.”

He rises to his feet and pulls out a set of keys from the pocket of his black jeans. “Well, y’dont have to go back in there,” he states. “Is there somewhere I can take you? Friend’s house, maybe?”

“My best friend Megan went to Puerto Vallarta for Thanksgiving. Most of my other friends left Austin like I did,” you explain, sighing again. “Anyone who didn’t leave is spending their time with their family tonight and I don’t want to bother them.”

Joel hums, mulling it over in his mind. “Well, don’t know how comfortable you’ll be with the idea, but my place ain’t all too far from here. Ten minutes or so. Less if there’s no one out on the roads.”

“Joel, that’s so nice of you to offer, but I’ve already ruined your dinner tonight. The last thing I want to do is put you out even more,” you say, sheepishly.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t ruin a fuckin’ thing for me tonight. And you wouldn’t be puttin’ me out at all,” he promises. “S’gettin’ late and truth be told, I just wanna get you somewhere warm.” Holding out his free hand, he adds, “And comfortable.”

“But Joel—”

“I can be real stubborn too, y’know,” he teases you with a playful grin. “We’ll be out here all night long freezin’ our fuckin’ asses off.”

He isn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Okay,” you relent, accepting the offer.

You place your hand in his and he helps you off the swing. He doesn’t let it go as he leads the way to a sleek, black Dodge Ram that’s parked behind your grandfather’s silver Mercedes. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before dropping it. “Sorry, sweet girl. It’s a bit of a trip up into the seat,” he remarks, chuckling as he opens the passenger side door for you. He gives you a boost into the truck; the scent of new leather is mixed with that of his cologne. It is all man and couldn’t be sexier. “Good up there?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Joel closes the door and hurriedly walks around to the driver’s side of the pickup, climbing up into his seat with ease. “Seatbelt,” he tells you as he sticks the key into the ignition. The first thing he does as soon as the engine roars to life is turn on your seat warmer. He switches on the heater as well, waiting a minute before asking, “You warm enough?”

“I am. Thank you, Joel.”

“‘Course.” He nods and pulls away from the curb.

As Joel’s driving you further and further from your parents’ house, all you feel is sweet relief.

“M’sorry the place is such a mess.”

Joel leads you into his living room and touches his hand to the back of his neck, embarrassed.

Amused, you raise an eyebrow at him and say, “I’d hardly call cardboard boxes stacked neatly over on one side of the room a mess, Joel.” You take a look around his townhouse—most of his furniture’s still wrapped up in plastic, except for the black leather couch and the rustic, acacia wood coffee table. He has a flat screen mounted over the brick fireplace; he’s been sleeping on the couch, or at least, that’s what the pillow and Texas Longhorns fleece throw tells you. You turn to him. “If you want to see a real mess, you should see my apartment in Chicago.”

You watch him as he takes off his glasses and puts them down on the coffee table.

“S’it pretty bad?”

“My roommate’s a kindergarten teacher too. You’d be surprised at how many popsicle sticks two girls in their twenties can end up bringing home. Not to mention all the glitter.”

“If you’re tryin’ to make me feel better, it’s workin’ like a charm.” Joel picks up his blanket and drapes it over the armchair adjacent to the couch. “Go on and make yourself comfortable, darlin’. You thirsty at all? I’ve got water or I can make coffee. Also got a pack of beer in the fridge,” he adds, jokingly.

“What kind of beer?” you ask curiously as you sink down onto the couch.

He seems pleasantly surprised by your interest.

“Lone Star.”

“I’ll have one. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“‘Course it’s not too much trouble. Not at all.”

It’s hard not to stare as he walks away towards the kitchen. Your thighs clench together—his back, his shoulders, those unkempt salt and pepper curls of his that tuft at the nape of his neck right above his collar—this man is the epitome of utter perfection. Your mind wanders and you can’t help imagine the way your legs would look thrown over those broad shoulders. How his large hands would feel on your plush skin as they wrap around your thighs to hold them in place against his chest while he fucks y—

“Here you go, darlin’.”

Joel’s deep voice shatters your train of thought.

He’s standing beside you, holding out the bottle of beer, which he’d uncapped along with his own.

Blood rushes to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you say as you accept the beer from him, trying not to lose the sliver of composure that you’re holding onto—it wavers when your fingers accidentally brush his.

“S’it too cold in here for you?” he asks. “I normally keep the thermostat pretty low.”

“It’s a little cold,” you admit. “But it’s not a prob—”

It’s too late. Joel walks over to the fireplace and he manages to strike a match and light it with just his free hand. After tossing in a couple logs, he makes his way back over to the couch and he takes a seat beside you. “That a bit better, sweetheart?”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugs. “You said it was cold.”

He takes a long, generous swig of the golden lager before setting the bottle down on one of the green ceramic coasters on the coffee table. He sits back; an arm stretches out over the back of the couch in a casual manner and his legs spread open causing your thighs to clench together once more.

“You feelin’ alright?”

“Huh?” You then realize he is referring to what had happened at dinner. “Oh. Um. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Joel peers at you, his concern evident, clear in the depths of his dark brown eyes. “You sure?”

“No. Not really,” you confess, tracing the mouth of your bottle with your index finger. “But I’ll get over it. I don’t have a choice but to get over it.” Another lump starts forming in the back of your throat and you swallow it, quickly chasing it down with a gulp of beer.

“M’guessin’ your family’s got somethin’ to do with why you decided to leave Austin?”

“Bingo,” you deadpan. “I was so sick and tired of it all. How I was talked to, how I was treated. Like I’m such a fucking disappointment.”

He frowns. “You’re not a disappointment, though.”

“My parents think I’m a disappointment. My dad’s never told me he’s proud of me, Joel. Nothing I do, nothing I have ever done is good enough for either of them, but especially not for him.” There is a dull ache that settles in your heart and all you can do is silently will yourself not to breakdown again, not in front of him, at least. You sigh. “Do you know what it’s like, not feeling good enough for someone that is supposed to love you no matter what? Someone who’s supposed to love you unconditionally?”

Joel knows it’s a rhetorical question, he knows it’s not something you’re expecting him to answer.

But he does answer, because he does know.

“I do, actually. I know all too well what it feels like.”

He looks down at his left hand, which is resting on his thigh and you do too. Your eyes flicker over the fading tanline on his finger—where he once wore a wedding band. You don’t even think twice about it and reach over, sweeping your own finger over the patch of pale skin. Without missing a beat, you tell him, “You’re good enough, Joel.”

He can’t help but laugh a little. “She’d disagree.”

“She’s wrong.”

“You don’t know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know what happened.”

“That ain’t how it works, sweetheart.”

Stubbornly, you lift your chin. “I don’t care.”

Joel laughs. “Y’think you know me, darlin’? Y’think you know what kinda man I am? Hm?”

“I do know.” You place your hand on top of his and his jaw clenches. “You’re a good man, Joel Miller. I know that you’re a good man.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong ‘bout that.” There’s a brief pause and he hesitates before confessing, “A good man wouldn’t be sittin’ here just fuckin’ dyin’ to kiss his best friend’s daughter.”

You freeze and grip your bottle so tight, you would not be the slightest bit surprised if it shatters right in your hand. “You—you want to kiss me?”

“Since the moment you opened up that front door and said hello to me.” Joel shakes his head. “S’not right.” He’s riddled with guilt, with shame. He pulls his hand out from under yours. “I ain’t a good man at all. You’re half my fuckin’ age and I shouldn’t—”

You cut him off, softly uttering his name. “Joel?”

“Yeah?” His voice sounds hoarse. Strained.

“Can you—will you kiss me? Please?”

You need more than just his kiss, so much more.

You need him to unravel you in every way possible, but beggars can’t be choosers and if one kiss was all you’ll get tonight, then you’ll fucking take it.

Joel swallows dryly. “That really what you want?”

His eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to meet your sweet, innocent gaze.

“Yes,” you breathe in reply. “Please. Kiss me.”

He leans in, and there’s brief hesitation on his part and he stops mere centimeters from your face, his nose lightly brushing against yours. “We shouldn’t be doin’ this.” His warm breath fans over your lips; they’re parted, eager to meet his own. “I shouldn’t let this happen. I—I should take you back home to your family before I do somethin’ real stupid.”

Your heart sinks. “That really what you want?” you parrot his own question back to him and hold your breath, knowing there’s a chance his answer could be the answer that you don’t want to hear, the one that could end up crushing you.

Joel lifts his hand, cupping the side of your face in his palm. “‘Course it’s not what I want.” His thumb strokes your cheek, his dark eyes taking in each of your features. He’s studying, memorizing them, as if he’ll never get another chance to be this close to you again. With the line he’s about to cross, you’re both about to cross, that just might be the case.

The tension seeps through your skin and into your bones.

You exhale shakily. “Then just kiss me already.”

He moves his hand and gently curls it around your chin, holding you steady as he leans further in and closes the gap of space in between you. He moves slowly and he’s gentle—too gentle. You want to tell him you’re not made of porcelain, but you’re much too preoccupied with how Joel’s mouth feels, how perfectly it molds against yours. He delicately nips your bottom lip with his teeth. It’s a silent request.

He wants more, more, more. Your lips part for him, granting him the access he’s seeking. Joel doesn’t waste a single moment and he explores every inch of your mouth with his tongue, eliciting a whimper from you. Without breaking contact, he takes your beer and somehow he manages to lean over to set it down on the coffee table without dropping it. He then pushes you back into the couch and the next thing you know, you’re lying on your back and he’s settled in between your legs, using one of his arms to keep himself propped up, while the other wraps itself in your hair. Your own hands clutch at fistfuls of his shirt, fingers gripping the fabric so tight, the skin over your knuckles stretches painfully thin.

You whimper out again, the noise prompting a low growl to rumble through his chest—suddenly, he’s not being so gentle. He isn’t being rough. But he is hungry, he’s possessive, and he’s letting it show in the way he’s swelling your lips with his kisses, how his fingers are gripping the hair at the base of your neck as he firmly tilts your head backwards to give himself better access to your mouth.

Your mind is racing, and yet, you can’t think at all.

It’s not until his hips buck into you and you feel his bulge through his jeans against you that you break away from him. “Joel,” you gasp his out name. You grip his shirt even harder, chest heaving as you try to catch a much needed breath of air. You can feel the arousal pooling between your legs. The flames burning in the fireplace are nothing in comparison to the ones that are burning deep in your belly.

“Fuck,” he curses, pulling back. “M’sorry—”

The last thing you want is for him to be sorry.

“No! Please don’t be sorry,” you rasp, gazing up at him. Your eyes are glazed over with a lust you have never felt for another man before. “I want this, you know I want this—don’t you?”

Joel sighs, brushing a soft kiss to your temple. You wish he could take a peek into your mind, see how badly you want to be wrapped up in his arms—you want to get lost in his embrace, feel him all around you, inside you. You want him to write his name on your bare skin with his tongue, whisper his secrets into the spot where you’re aching for him most.

He sighs again and lightly shakes his head.

“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”

“I want this,” you repeat yourself. “I want you.”

Relaxing the death grip you have on his shirt, your hands release the fabric and move to the buttons. Your fingers tremble slightly as you undo each one of them; after an embarrassing fumble or two, you manage to get them all and push Joel’s shirt off of his shoulders. He sucks in a quick, sharp breath as your greedy hands begin roaming, exploring every inch of smooth, tan skin on his upper body.

Your touch erases all the uncertainty he’s feeling.

“Wanna feel you too, baby.” Joel takes the hem of your sweater and gestures for you to sit up slightly so he can pull it over your head. Carelessly tossing it somewhere behind him, he glances down, blood rushing to his cock as he takes in the sight of your supple curves clad in sweet, delicate white lace. “Christ, you look so fuckin’ soft.”

He doesn’t even realize he’s saying it out loud, not until he catches the flirtatious little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. You sit up slightly once again and reach behind you to unhook the lingerie and take it off, adding it to the ever growing pile of clothes on the hardwood floor. Licking his lips, he meets your gaze for just a moment before dipping his head down, wrapping them around one of your hardened nipples. “Joel,” you mewl his name as he flicks the pebbled flesh with his tongue.

Joel releases it with a lewd, wet pop and he tosses you a smirk before he moves to the other to give it the same attention. He’s a biter, you find out as he takes it between his teeth, nipping over and over.

Your throbbing center clenches around nothing.

“Joel, please. I need you—I fucking need you.”

He tears away from your nipple. “Where, baby?”

You open your mouth to answer him, but your own gasp cuts you off as he starts trailing his lips down the length of your body until he comes to a stop at the waistband of your skirt. One of his hands finds the zipper on the side and he looks up at you, as if asking for permission. Desperate, you nod. Pulling the zipper down, he slides the skirt, along with the pair of lace white panties you’re wearing off of you and discards them, leaving you completely naked.

Your insecurities begin to trickle in, but Joel’s able to halt them right in their tracks.

“You’re too fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he says, his reassurance calming your nerves instantly. “So beautiful. So beautiful and so fuckin’ perfect.”

You watch as he makes himself comfortable—well as comfortable as he can—in between your legs. He shoots you a sheepish look.

“Knew I should’a put the damn bed together. But I been puttin’ it off and puttin’ it off all week long.”

You giggle breathlessly. “Who needs a bed?”

Chuckling, Joel feathers a kiss on your inner thigh.

Your smile is all but slapped right off of your face.

“Joel.”

Any traces of humor vanish. You’re both reminded of the next wall that’s about to be broken, the next line that’s about to be crossed.

He looks down and groans. “Such a pretty, perfect little pussy,” he remarks, his voice low, husky. “Bet she’s nice and wet for me, ain’t she baby?” He lifts his hand and drags the tip of his finger up your slit slowly, your slick coating his digit. He smirks up at you. “Oh, she’s fuckin’ soakin’, sweet girl. S’this all for me?”

Foreplay wasn’t in the vocabulary of guys your age and while part of you wishes Joel would hurry, you also find yourself enjoying the fact that he’s taking his time, teasing you—making you really want it to the point where you’re willing to fucking plead him for it. Joel Miller’s the only man you’d ever beg for.

He skims your other thigh with his nose and kisses it just like he’d done with the other. “Tell me darlin’ s’this where you need me? Right here?”

Frantically, you nod your head.

“Words, honey. Gotta use your words for me.”

“Yes!” you choke out. “That’s where I need you. So bad. Need you so fucking bad. Please Daddy—”

You freeze and momentarily, he does too. Truth be told, you wouldn’t really blame him if he just stood up, gathered your clothes and tossed them at you, demanding you put them back on and leave.

Joel raises an eyebrow. “Daddy, huh?”

Your face is on fire. “I—it slipped,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to call you—I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m not even sure where that came from. I’ve never—”

You’re on the verge of panicking, then notice there is a certain glimmer in his eyes and realize he liked it when you’d called him that. You’re taken aback.

He fucking likes being called Daddy.

“Sweetheart, there ain’t nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout. I promise. You can call me that. But on a condition.”

You stare at him, no idea what the condition could possibly be.

“Ain’t allowed to call anyone else that. Ever.” There is a possessiveness in his tone and it nearly makes you come on the spot. “That understood?”

You nod obediently. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” he prompts.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good. That’s a real good girl, honey.”

For a split second, you can’t breathe.

This man will surely be the death of you.

Joel plants one final kiss, this one on your mound.

“Please,” you whimper, the heat in your lower belly growing and fizzling out to the rest of your body at the feeling of his breath over your aching core.

“Please what?” he murmurs into the sensitive skin as his arms curl around your legs. “Tell Daddy—tell Daddy what you need baby, so he can take care of you.”

“Your mouth,” you beg him, desperation mounting with each passing second. Your hips buck upward; his biceps flex as he tightens his arms around your thighs, pinning you down in place. “Your mouth—I need your mouth. Please.”

Joel moves his head to the junction of your thighs, his mouth hovering right over where you needed it the most. He looks up at you with hunger, like he’s a ravenous, starved man who hasn’t had a thing to eat in days. “What a good girl,” he praises, dipping his head even lower. His mouth waters at the sight of your glistening folds. “Bet you taste as delicious as you fuckin’ look, don’t you, pretty girl?”

He flattens his tongue and glides it up your slit, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he gets his first taste. You gasp out when it grazes your swollen, aroused clit and your head falls back onto the couch. “Oh fuck,” you whine, reaching for his hair. You weave your hands through his graying locks and pull his face closer. Another swipe of his tongue causes your back to arch up off the leather and the edges of your vision to blur.

He pulls an arm from around your legs and drags a finger down your drenched entrance, lips securing themselves around your clit. His gaze stays locked on you as he pushes his long, thick digit into you—you feel him smirk as he curls it upwards, pressing the pad of his finger firmly against the soft spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Joel slips in a second finger and curls it along with the other to double the pleasure. He begins thrusting his digits in and out of your warm cunt, eliciting what had to be the sweetest sounds that he’d ever heard in his entire life from you. He combines it with with slow, firm, and precise stokes of his tongue on your clit.

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” you encourage him, your loud, breathy moans bouncing off the bare, freshly painted walls of his house. “Yes Daddy, fuck—feels so fucking good, please don’t fucking stop—”

It’s not like you have to tell him what to do.

Joel knows exactly what he’s doing, and he knows it too. He listens to every single one of your moans and feels every single buck of your hips. He is sure to pay extra attention to when your hands pull and tug at his curls; he remembers what combinations of licking, sucking, and fucking make you squeeze your plush thighs tighter around his head; reminds himself of which technique brings your body off of the couch, what makes your toes curl. Joel’s quick to learn your body’s cues, each and every last one. He already knows when to give you more, when to give you less—when he needs speed up, when it is time to slow it all down.

You sing his name over and over again, pressure of an orgasm already building between your hips. His tongue swirls around your sensitive little bundle of nerves as his fingers pump in and out of your cunt and you glance down. You almost choke when you catch a tiny glimpse of the muscles in his forearm, the way they flex underneath his skin with each of his movements as he’s fucking you. Your gaze flits to his face. His own eyes are fixed intently on you.

You’re milliseconds away from release.

“Joel, I’m so fucking close. I’m gonna come—”

His arm squeezes your thigh in encouragement.

One last, broad stroke of Joel’s tongue on your clit sends an overwhelming wave of pleasure crashing over you. Strangled cries tear themselves from the back of your throat as your velvet walls flutter and convulse, squeezing his fingers. Joel, who’s face is still half buried in your pussy, takes it upon himself to help you ride through the high. He peppers soft, delicate kisses onto your swollen clit as his fingers continue to slide in and out of you slowly. He waits patiently until your loud cries dissolve into nothing but breathless little whimpers before he crawls up, positioning himself on top of you, a hand on either side of your head. His beard and mustache glisten with a mixture of saliva and slick—and somehow it it ignites another fire and you’re ready for more, so much more.

“Sweet girl,” Joel murmurs. Leaning down, his lips meet yours and you taste yourself on his tongue

You place a hand on his chest, right over his heart, which beats strong and steady against your palm.

You start dragging your hand down his chest, your fingernails raking over his skin. It travels lower and lower, gliding over the softness of his stomach. He tenses when you brush the waistband of his jeans.

Tearing away from you, he grits out, “Baby. No.”

You immediately snatch your hand away from him.

“You changed your mind?” you question, stomach sinking at the thought of it being over already.

You’re just so fucking greedy for this man.

He offers reassurance—and an explanation.

“No, that ain’t it at all. S’just—” Joel pauses briefly and flushes a shade of red. “S’just that, well, I ain’t got condoms on me, darlin’.”

Relieved, you assure him, “It’s okay. I’m clean.”

“Me too. But that ain’t what I’m worried about,” he admits, his face going from red to maroon.

You smile, finding his embarrassment endearing.

“I’m on birth control.”

Joel clenches his hands into fists. His cock strains against his zipper at the thought of it—taking your cunt bare. “Y’sure you want this?” He rasps out. “I need you to be a hundred percent sure ‘bout it.”

“I’m a thousand percent sure, Joel. I fucking need it. More than anything I’ve ever needed in my life.”

That’s all he needed to hear.

Joel stands up, his gaze never leaving your own as he kicks off his black leather boots. You sit up, and it takes every ounce of strength you have in you to remain composed as he unbuckles his belt, unzips his jeans and pushes them down his legs. You bite down on your bottom lip and try not to stare at his bulge like it’s your first time ever seeing a dick, but if he’s as big as he looks in his boxer briefs, maybe this would end up being a lot more than what your body could handle.

He hooks his thumbs underneath the elastic of his boxer briefs and slides them off, allowing his thick, hard cock to spring free from its confinement.

You swallow harshly. He’s fucking massive.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” Joel chuckles at the expression on your face as he kicks aside all of his clothes. His length rests on his lower abdomen and precome smears the skin there. Wrapping one of his hands around it, he gives it a couple strokes, just a hint of relief until you come into play. “Hm?”

Licking your lips, you nod and stand up. You take a couple of wobbling step towards him—Joel’s cock hasn’t been anywhere near you and you’re already fucking walking side to side. “Come here,” you say to him, taking both his hands in your own. You pull him back to the couch and gently guide him down into a sitting position. Swinging your leg over both of his, you straddle his lap. You gingerly place your hands on his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh softly when you feel him brush against your pussy; the contact makes you both moan in unsion. “This okay?” you ask him, breathily. You can’t be sure as to why you’re suddenly feeling a bit shy, like you’re not planning to ride his fucking soul out of him.

“More than okay.” Joel brushes your hair over your shoulder and then drags his hand down the length of your body, committing to his memory every one of your curves. “Gonna be a real good girl and ride my cock, baby?”

You gift him with a cheeky grin. “Yes, Daddy.”

The shyness begins to dissipate and you dive your hand between your bodies, wrapping it around his cock, causing his breath to catch in his throat. You lift yourself slightly off his lap, teasingly gliding the head of his cock down your drenched slit, then up, letting it graze over your clit, which is still senstive to the touch thanks to his lips and tongue.

Joel’s hands find their way around you, running up the curve of your spine. “Wasn’t aware that my girl was such a little fuckin’ tease,” he remarks in a low tone. He slides his hands back down and his large, warm palms cup your ass, fingers kneading flesh.

“Your girl?” you repeat, your heart skipping a beat, stomach fluttering at the idea of being his. “Is that what I am to you, Joel? Your girl?”

“S’that what you want, honey?” Joel whispers, his eyes finding your own, two hopeful gazes meeting in the deepest, most intimate moment that you’ve shared all evening. “Y’wanna be my girl?”

Leaning forward, your reply is preceded by kiss, so soft and so sweet his heart swells inside his chest.

“I do,” you mumble against his lips. “I really do.”

Still gripping your ass, Joel eases you up and lines himself up at your entrance. He bucks his hips and slides the head of his cock past your folds and into your heat. “Breathe, baby,” he whispers, his hands moving to your hips, thumbs grazing your skin. He slowly guides you further down his shaft, grunting as you sink down, taking him inch by inch. “Christ, you’re so goddamn fuckin’ tight—”

The initial stretch is almost too much for you. Your nails sink deeper into his shoulders as he pulls you down further down onto him. “Joel,” you whimper, biting back a loud cry. You’re fully seated, his cock completely sheathed inside you, his head pressing against your cervix. You’re so full of him.

One of his hands abandons your hip and slips over your lower belly.

“This where you’re feelin’ me, pretty girl?” he coos gently. “This where you feel Daddy’s cock? In your belly?”

“Yes,” you sigh out contentedly. “Feels so good.”

You lift yourself off of him, then slide back down in a slow, languid motion.

Joel’s head falls back onto the couch. “Christ.” He mutters the word, his chest heaving. Staring up at the ceiling, he takes a moment to catch his breath and silently wills himself not to explode. Once he’s managed to somewhat compose himself, he looks at you again, pupils blown so wide you can’t find a single trace of brown. “Go on, then,” he rasps. “Go on, sweetheart.”

The living room fills with the sounds of low moans and panting breaths as you move, alternating your maneuvers between rocking and bouncing on him in a frenzied, fast paced rhythm. The friction of his pelvis each time you grind into it winds up the coil between your hips and suddenly you’re desperate, so pathetically desperate for another release.

“Yeah, that’s it baby,” Joel encourages, feeling the beginning of his own climax building quick—much too quick for his liking. “Jus’ like that, honey. What a good girl you are for me, so fuckin’ good for me. Just like I fuckin’ knew you would be.”

“Fuck,” you whine. “You feel so good, Daddy. Feel so fucking good inside me—”

Leaning back, you firmly plant both your hands on his thighs and arch your body, head falling back as you pick up the pace. The burning fire casts a soft, orange glow around you and his jaw falls slack. His eyes drink in every single fucking thing about you, watch you with an adoration that, for the first time in your whole life, makes you feel wanted. Actually wanted.

“Joel,” you whisper his name over and over. You’re both beginning to lose track of where you end and he begins. You can hardly hear the praises that are spilling from his plush lips over the squelching wet sounds of your cunt sliding up and down his cock. There’s no chance to warn him—your mouth parts in a silent scream as you come undone on him.

“M’so fuckin’ close,” Joel grunts. He feels his cock twitch as your pussy grips him like a vice. “Where? Where do you want it, pretty girl?”

“Inside me. Please, I need you to come inside me,” you plead him, the innocent tone of your voice the last thing to push him over the edge he’s teetering on. “Fill me up, Daddy—please, want every drop of you inside me—”

Joel reaches for your arms and yanks you forward, into him. Throwing them around his neck, his own arms wrap around you and roughly slam you down onto him, holding you firmly in place. He bucks his hips upwards, balls tightening, his cock pulsing as he comes. Strings of hissed curse words and deep gutteral groans muffle when he drops his face into your collarbone. Still holding you in place, he spills his load into you, his seed filling you to the brim.

He sags back against the couch and pulls you with him. Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he lets himself stay buried inside of you, the primal in him relishing the heavenly feeling of his come dripping messily out of your pussy and all over his thighs.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks after a minute.

“M’perfect,” you mumble against his chest. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re coming down from a high or if it’s because he’s tracing patterns on your shoulder blade with his finger, but you shiver in his arms.

“Let me get the blanket—”

Joel starts to move to get up, but you stop him.

“No, please don’t,” you say, pushing him back. You put all of your weight onto him, as if he can’t move you off to the side if he really wanted to. “I—I want you inside me for a little while longer. Please.”

“But baby, you’re cold—”

You don’t bother explaining to him that you’re not.

“Just hold me. Please.”

And that’s exactly what he does.

Snuggling into him, you close your eyes and Joel’s hand strokes at your hair. Between that, the thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek and the sound of the fireplace crackling behind you, you’re nearly soothed into sleep.

“Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“I hate Thanksgiving,” you admit, smiling tiredly to yourself when you feel a laugh rumble in his chest.

“Do you, now?”

You nod. “I do. But I’m really thankful for you.”

Giving you a gentle squeeze, Joel kisses the top of your head and murmurs, “Well, m’thankful for you too, sweet girl.” He pauses momentarily. “I ain’t all too sure how I’m s’pposed to just let you go home. I know I have to but—”

Lifting your head off of his chest, you take the side of his face and cradle it in your palm. You meet his gaze, heart sinking when you see the sadness that has replaced the lust from earlier.

He doesn’t mean home to your parents’ house. He means Chicago.

You graze his beard with your thumb. “I’m coming back in a few weeks,” you remind him, gently. “I’ve only planned to spend a week out here just for the holidays, but I can visit sooner. As soon as the kids go on winter break, I can come back to Austin.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course I would, Joel. I’m not sure how it would work what with my parents and all, though. I don’t want them catching onto us.”

“C’mere.” Joel brushes your lips with his before he makes his promise. “I’ll figure it out, baby. Leave it all to me and I’ll figure it out.”

divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎

[twiisted-king]

♢ Spider-Man Noir BF HC’S ♢

➟ Spider-Man Noir / GN!Reader 🕸️

➟ SFW / NSFW

➟ TW : 1930’s Attitudes, The Great Depression, Injuries/Blood, Sexual Content, & Smoking.

————————————————————————

— Let’s set one thing straight, he is husband material.

— The moment y’all start dating is when he starts thinking of marriage. Obviously he’s from the 1930’s so he probably thinks more in terms of “ I Man, I Husband “. I don’t think it’s to the point of being toxic though :)

— Peter has a gun, yes a gun, that he is not afraid to use especially when it comes to you. He’s always clutching you close to him whenever y’all go outside and keeping a close eye on the environment around him. He already lost Uncle Ben, he is NOT losing you too.

— A total gentleman : flowers, taking your coat, kissing your hand, he goes the whole nine yards.

— It’s hard for him to just be comfortable sometimes. Experience the Great Depression and being Spider-Man has left him a nervous wreck who just can’t calm down. He’s always expecting the worse. In other words, please treat this man like he’s the best thing in the whole world, he needs it.

— A music lover who would be even more smitten if you danced with him. He’ll hum to the tune and spin you around the livingroom with this big, goofy smile on his face.

— Peter runs off of coffee, cigarettes, and adrenaline. He doesn’t have the easiest line of even as a civilian and often works late into the night. He’s always exhausted when he gets home and just wants to fall into bed beside you.

— Is pretty always big spoon. It’s just easier since he’s more then a likely taller than you plus he likes taking on the protector role.

— A decent chef. He can definitely make a mean dinner and has learned a few tips/tricks from Aunt May.

— Patch up his wounds! He’s a good patient who just sits there with this glint of admiration in his eyes as you clean up any blood or stitch close a deeper cut. He’ll absolutely tease you by asking if you can “ kiss it better “.

— He writes sappy poetry. It’s mostly just for kicks and giggles though he can definitely whip out something that really touches your heart. He gets flustered if you thank him for the poetry and just hides his red face behind his hat Jotaro style.

— Peter wants to eventually move away from New York to somewhere much quieter. He wants to marry you and have a big house. If you want kids that’s more than okay with him and if you don’t he’s content on settling for a dog. He absolutely loves dogs.

�� NSFW ♢

— While not the most experienced person sexually he still knows how to have a good time.

— Peter’s libido isn’t the highest and sex is more of a celebratory/occasional thing. You got a job promotion? Cool! Peter wants to bang you on the couch until the walls are white and the multiverse rips apart.

— I think Peter definitely gets aroused a lot he just doesn’t act on his feelings. He doesn’t exactly have time to take an hour away for some much needed love making.

— But when he does get that hour away? Oh boy howdy prepare yourself.

— I already discussed that there is more than likely a height difference and he takes that to his advantage. It’s easy to just scoop you up no matter how heavy you are and have sex with you right against the kitchen wall.

— Like he’ll rip your clothes off in the heat of the moment then promise to buy your another shirt later.

— RIDE 👏🏻 THIS 👏🏻 MAN 👏🏻 - He doesn’t mind just kicking back and letting you take control for a bit. He lets out the hottest noises and when you’re thighs are aching from bouncing on him? He just manually fucks you on his cock all while telling you about how nice you feel tensing around him.

— No surface in your place is safe. Kitchen counter, bed, couch .. you’ve been banged on all of them.

— Wants to stuff you full of as much of his cum as possible. He’ll cum into over and over again until your stomach is bloated with his release.

— He’s big! It can be an adjustment taking his dick and he’s fully aware of his size. He’s always whispering encouragements to you, telling you about how good you look taking him like this. His balls are big too lmao.

[millylotus]

Secret Son John Constantine

Inspired by @herbatahleb's funny little fanart

As the title says The Everlasting Trio have a child and his name is John “Hellblazer” Constantine

He’s making his parents proud

John was born of a kind of soul blood pact between the three, he got his blonde hair from Sam, his eyes from Tucker, and his overall appearance is a mix of the three of them

John grew up to follow in Tucker & Sam’s footsteps of magic, he’s a born sorcerer unlike them though

His relationship with his parents is generally good, but because of how he treats his soul his relationship with Danny has deteriorated

They argue about this alot, John’s soul is his own and what he does with it really isn’t any of Danny’s business, Danny has the concerned parent vibes of the parent of a sex worker, their fears are founded but they need to trust their kid to know how to take care of themselves

John hates visiting home because of it, Dani will sometimes drag him back home for holidays but he doesn’t stay long

Sam & Tucker try to get them to get along but it isn’t really working

Then one day Danny gets accidentally summoned by the Justice League

---

John doesn’t recognize the summoning circle as it buzzes to life, he doesn’t know what type of creature or being will pop out. If they’re good or bad, or even merciful but he knows they’re strong from the intricate design or the circle. So he recklessly jumps forward, pushing Hal out of the binding circle so the Lantern isn’t bound to the summoned being.

John takes the binding with a scream of pain, feeling electricity shoot up his spine.

He can hear the Leaguers shouting his name, he’s vaguely aware of Jordan supporting him. But what he hears clearest was the voice of a man he most despised in the world at the moment.

“Really John? You didn’t have to do that, he would have been fine.”

John closes his eyes tight and breaths deep, he looks up to the voice and looks into the toxic green eyes as they met his own brown ones.

“Good to see you too Father.”

The green eyed being rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, “Yes, hello Son. It’s great to see you again as well.”

The League had only heard a few things about John Constantine’s family. They knew he had three parents who’re polyamouros, that he has an older sister and an aunt. Besides that all they have are silent grumblings about “Father won’t like this” when he does something risky.

But to see a young filipino man probably no older than twenty, floating over John “Hellblazer” Constantine and looking down on him like a disappointed parent. It was jarring.

Wonder Woman was the first to say anything “John, could you perhaps explain what just happened?”

John and his father broke their intense eye contact to look at Diana, who barely flinched at the sudden attention, the others behind her weren’t so fearless.

Constantine sighed carefully stepping away from Hal, “This is my Father.”

Hal snorted, “Yeah we got that man.”

“Yes John, introduce me to your friends here.”

---

Danny is generally snarky when meeting the League, he makes some weird comments about John hanging out with superheroes, that could be construed as rude

The others are kinda pestering John about who his dad even is, while John is more focused on getting the fucking bind removed

He eventually has to ask Zatanna for help

Danny for the most part is hanging out with the League while John’s working

Someone calls him Mr.Constantine and Danny quickly corrects them saying that isn’t his last name

Which sparks a whole conversation of John’s last name, which Danny isn’t about to say cause real names have power and such

Danny sees John working closely with Zatanna and asks if he’s with her or not, John is beyond embarrassed and even worse is when Danny brings up King Shark, mentioning that Dani really liked him too

John snarks back that then King Shark should have just gone for her instead of him since Danny was so adamant about King Shark being such a great son-in-law

Things get awkward quick as the two snark back at each other while everyone else realizes where John gets it from

It almost becomes a screaming match before the League has to break it up before they go to far

John ends up just calling Sam & Tucker so they can just break the binding

It’s a tense few minutes before they get there, and the League just kinda has to sit there as father & son fume not looking at each other

When Tucker & Sam get there they see the two not wanting to talk to each other at all

Leaguers are not reeling at seeing John’s other parents who he also vaguely looks like but also not

As the two work on the binding John & Danny are being passive aggressive

The two decide that John & Danny need to spend some time together to get this shit figured out

---

Sam : Alright that’s it *Sam & Tucker stop working, Sam has her head in her hands and Tucker is leaning far back* Danny : What? John : I’m sorry? Tucker : You two have been fighting for far to long, you’ve probably forgotten why Danny : I know exactly why, it’s because John doesn’t know how to treat his soul right! John : By The Ancients! You’re still on about that Danny : Of course! Sam : Will you both just SHUT UP! *Silence* Sam : We’re not breaking the binding, you two are going to stay stuck together Danny : Sammy! John : Mama, Papa. Please don’t do this! Tucker : Nuh-uh, this happening, you two are getting a some father-son bonding time for the week! John *distressed*: Why! You can’t just– it’s not fair! *Sam & Tucker loosen up a bit, looking to John softly* Sam : Baby it’s alright, we’re not trying to punish you we just want you & your father to actually talk things through Danny : It feels like your punishing me Tucker : You are his father, you will be the civil one in this so don’t you fucking dare get any lip *Danny goes silent* Sam *sigh* : We’ll be leaving now Tucker : Good look you two The two leave, then silence Danny : Do you still have that demon house of yours? John *sigh* : Yeah I’ll show you a room for your stay

---

Most of the story is really just about John & Danny learning to get along again

Danny has to finally trust his kid to know what he’s doing with his own body

And John realising that his dad just wants to keep him safe & stuff

By the end of their basically grounding the two have begun to mend their relationship, Danny promises to come over and visit along with inviting John back home to the zone when he feels like

I've been meaning to post this for awhile now & it's just been sitting in my drafts until I finally remembered it.

Hope you liked is! :]

Main Story Index [It's kinda messy but it's got links to most everything]

[0xstarzx0]

Don’t write it it stinks of toxic love

synopsis: Nate never found someone to love, Rafe was never loved and Y/N was never taken serious Maybe their entry into college will change their lives.

Frat Rafe x Reader x Frat Nate.

[English is not my native language❗️❗️] TW: toxic, smut, sex, penetration, fingering, non-con, manipulation , insult, fight, humiliation, misogynistic attitude. [PART1]

______________________________________________

______________________________________________

NATE 

The summer vacation had not been easy for Nathaniel Jacobs. Between the divorce of his parents, Cassie who was just stalking his and his going to college, nothing was right.

Two weeks before homecoming, he decided to go to Chris Mckay’s, he was happy that Mckay was still talking to him about what happened between him and Cassie.

They were in Mckay’s room playing a fighting game. They were focused in their game when Nate was talking. "Dude?". Mckay turned his head to look at him. "Yeah?" he said.

"How’s college, I mean is there a lot of hot chicks?" Mckay and Nate laugh, Nate laugh to hide his anxiety.

Nate wanted to leave, college was one of the best ways. What Nate was afraid of was not being number one. He was afraid that he would not be THE best football player. That he is not indispensable to his team.

"Nah, man, college is where you can fuck whoever you want, it’s not like high school, people don’t give a shit about who’s fucking who, as long as it’s not cheating." Mckay said.

"How do you get respect?" Nate asks. Mckay seems to think long." I had sex with the cheerleading captain and the opposing college captain. Nate opens his eyes wide. "Two cheerleaders but not the same team or the same college?"

"You’re gaining huge popularity and a huge repsect. You’re teammates will trust you after that." Mckay laughed." So if I understand correctly, a good fuck with a cheerleader captain is the deal?" asks Nate. "Got it all figured out, man. But one advice, close the door of your room when you’re inside."

Mckay’s expression changes, it becomes empty and hard. Filled with hate and sadness. Nate nods, and as he was about to speak the door opens. Drawing the attention of Nate and the latter.

"Chris, your aunt is here, comes to help her carry her boxes." said his mother. "Is she already there?" asked Chris sighing." Yes, she’s already here, with her daughter, so be nice and come now." Demands her mother.

Chris gets up and Nate follows him, they go outside where, his head car is parked. Chris hugs his aunt and takes boxes, Nate only says hello and helps her carry her boxes.

Nate poses where he needs to, he goes back out when he crosses a small head out of the bathroom.

Nate looks at the girl and he feels something, he doesn’t move me and she doesn’t either. He looks at the girl.

She is small, her hair is black braided, long eyelashes that put her brown hazelnut eyes in values , black skin but which shone thanks to the passage of the sunset in the long corridor. Nate begins to detail her body, she has beautiful boobs, a slim waist and beautiful hips that enhance her legs.

She’s wearing a Brazil jersey with black shorts, a cyclist? He doesn’t know, but anyway, this girl makes him feel what no other girl has ever made him feel not even Maddy.

"Y/N" says Chris enthusiastically. Y/N looks at Nate looking away at Chris. "Did you miss me?" she asks trotting towards him.

Chris laughs and hugs her. Nate remains in his thoughts for a short time.

______________________________________________

Nate learned a lot about Y/N. She’s her age, she likes to read, write and fine art, she doesn’t have a boyfriend and something that makes Nate want to have her, in two weeks, they’ll share the same campus.

They go to the same college, she looks so pure and kind, Nate intends to make sure that she lives only by him.

Nate falls in love every time she talks to him and that’s a big problem for our football star.

Especially when Y/N won’t just attract his attention.

______________________________________ [PART 2]

.

.

.

[falinesimagines]

🖤Yan! JD x Yan! Veronica x Reader💙

For @brainrotqueen • Written at like 4am and not beta read

Tw : Yandere, suicide/murder, toxic/manipulative relationships, Stockholm syndrome

Sfw, angst?

JD would be far more open about his obsession with you eventually getting Veronica -who had actually felt somewhat guilty about these feelings- to do the same.

They'd be protective over you in their own way.

JD would follow you from class to class and even back home on some occasion (he's just making sure nothing bad happens to you).

Veronica seems to get overly defensive and irritated if the Heathers were to ever try making fun of you.

If the Heathers ever tried to treat you how they did Martha then Westerberg would probably end up with three Heather spreads for the yearbook.

JD has pictures of you hidden in his room somewhere, he's given Veronica a few too. Veronica likes to write notes and letters in your handwriting, the two can delude themselves into believing that was really you that sent that love letter to the duo.

You're not in a great place mentality right now, more and more people around you are being lost to suicide. Why is this happening? Is it something wrong with you? Maybe you're causing this... Is this some sort of curse!? Horrific thoughts cloud your mind and there doesn't seem to be any way to stop them.

You've noticed JD and Veronica at the funerals. Your friend talked to alot of people, that's not that strange. Did they really know your sibling? Your aunt? You're too depressed and tired to be thinking about that right now. At least they're here to comfort you.

They're nice to you, they promise they'll stay for you and that nothing bad will happen now. You listen to them, why wouldn't you?

They invite you over to JD's house, it's a nice place. Is that your old shirt that you lost in the changing rooms? It can't be, it's not like you're the only person that owns a shirt like that... It's that your report card from last year? You threw that away didn't you? Maybe you misread the name...

Soon enough they're virtually the only people you have left, for some reason whoever isn't killing themselves seems to be afraid to approach you (Possibly because of Veronica getting the Heathers to spread rumours about you or JD's reputation around the school but it's not like you know that).

You're spending almost all of your free time with the couple now, it's not like you have anyone else to talk to anyway. When you're not with them they're trying to call you and if you can't answer immediately they're swarming you with questions about why when you eventually do answer. They're overwhelming but at least they care, right? At least they won't leave you like everyone else has.

They're making you skip classes and sometimes full days of school just to be with you, you're falling behind in school because of this but that's okay, you don't need highschool anyway, not when you have them. They're telling you that you can't spend too much time with your family. Why do you need to be away from them anyway? What does your family have that they can't give you? It's causing stress within the family, skipping dinner or sneaking out to be with them, you're parents are arguing with you, questioning what's going on. You don't need to answer them, you don't even need them period, not when you have Veronica and JD.

[bvttoneyes]

"But Daddy I Love Him!" ~ (lip gallagher x fem!reader's version)

sum! "But Daddy I Love Him!" Taylor swift - The Tortured Poets department.

tw! FACEBOOK... toxic family, mention of having a baby, swearing ig (again its shameless)

uhm this is gonna suck! I have no clue what I'm doing! ok days later n the middle/ending is very sloppy i feel like. idk i kinda dont like it.

"I forget how the west was won, I forget if this was ever fun, I just learned these people only raise you to cage you"

You and Lip were fighting again. You hadn't been getting along as much anymore, you were getting closer to your two year mark too.

No one in your family liked the Gallaghers to begin with, so you couldn't complain to your family (siblings, cousins, whoever). The one who disapproved of your relationship the most though? Your father. Your father hated the relationship you had with Lip. He thought he was going to use you for money, your body, etc. He just knew Gallaghers were usually up to something, so he didn't approve of this relationship as soon as you told him.

Except with how much you and Lip were arguing now, it's hard to remember all the fun you would have. It's like a distant memory that you forget was a dream or not.

"Sarah's and Hannah's in their sunday best, Clutching their pearls, Sighing 'What a mess', I just learned these people try and save you ... cause they hate you"

Your family wasn't just rude to him, you as well. It was a bunch of rich snobs, and if something hadn't gone their way then get rid of it.

They hated you for even being in the vicinity of someone 'lesser' than them. Because god forbid you bring normal people into the wretched family of yours. Your cousins and extended family were known to gossip about others in the family, and right now you were the hot topic.

"too high a horse, for a simple girl to rise above it, they slammed the door on my whole world, the one thing I wanted"

It was an accident. Sort of. With how complicated you and Lip were right now you had changed your relationship status to "it's complicated". Not thinking about how public your page is to your very judgemental family. Lip did the same so he wasn't necessarily mad. All of your cousins, aunts, etc. were messaging you asking what happened, trying to get as much information as they could. It was all fine until your dad texted you.

"Come home."

Oh god. You could feel your stomach doing flips inside of you. You knew what he was going to say. 'You need to break up with this boy if it's to the point you're both telling the entire world how complicated your relationship is right now'. You went over there with the full intent to defend yourself and your boyfriend.

"Now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned, Screaming 'But Daddy I Love Him!' I'm having his baby. No, I'm Not, but you should see your faces"

You got to your parents house and your dad started saying the exact things you thought he would.

"If you're sharing your relationship vis-à-vis the internet than I do not think this relationship should go on." Your dad kept repeating this in different wordings time and time again.

"Dad, me and Lip are just arguing like normal couples do. All you do is talk about how I should break up with him and that he is horrible for me." You snap at him, finally.

You continue your rant, "It isn't up to you to decide for me whether my boyfriend is good for me or not. I'm an adult and I can figure my love life out for myself. He has done nothing but be kind to all of you and get on your good side, but all of you are too snobby to understand that!"

You have to take a break to breath.

"I'm having his child. Not now... but eventually." As you said this they're faces were all filled with shock. Some of them had concern written all over there face.

"I'm telling him to floor it through the fences. No, I'm not coming to my senses, I know he's crazy but he's the one I want"

"I know none of you like him, but I see a future with him. But if you never learn to accept none of you will be apart of this future." God, it felt good finally standing up for yourself in front of your family.

Instead of waiting for them you got up and left. Not wanting to here what kind of excuse he's going to make for himself.

"Dutiful daughter, all my plans were laid, tendrils tucked into a woven braid, growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all."

Your way back home had you thinking about your childhood and how you grew up. If there so against difference, and all of your other family is, why were you taught different?

It can't be because of school because you went to school with some family that acts the same as them.

Maybe because you had friends that were in south side? They were friends with the private school's principal and they were able to get in free of cost. You would go over to their house sometimes and it wasn't a huge clean house in a nice pretty neighborhood. Maybe that's why you weren't born to be a horrible person and you actually got to learn about people who weren't as lucky as you.

Which also means from a young age you were already more mature than your entire family.

"He was chaos, he was revelry, Bedroom eyes like a remedy."

You got back to the house and saw Lip on the couch. You went inside and sat next to him. At first he didn't say anything to you. Until he couldn't just not speak.

"Where'd you go?" He mutters, not looking at you still.

"Parents." You answer him almost instantly, looking at him.

He nods, knowing what this is about.

"So, they knock some sense in ya? You dumping me?" He rubs his face and the looks at you.

You snicker, "You must know absolutely nothing about me if you think I'm listening to my parents?"

He smiles and chuckled (i'm thinking of the lil breath through the nose laugh that no one knows what to call...) he knew how stubborn you were when it came to your parents.

"Soon enough the elders had convened, down at the city hall, 'stay away from her', the saboteurs protested too much"

Your family had been trying to text you. Some to apologize, some to try to talk out out of being mad, some to get gossip, the others still trying to get you to break up with him.

Your father had compared you to a '"rebelling teenager" because of how you're acting? You and Lip had stopped arguing for now.

Every time they reached out to him to talk to you through him, he would tell them to stop, "leave her alone", or block them. He was sick of how they treated you and him too.

Almost all of your family was blocked now, because they all decided to text you. The only people you couldn't bring yourself to block were your parents. Even though they were the ones laying it on the strongest. Your mom kept apologising but your dad was saying the same things as before.

"Lord knows the words we never heard, Just screeching tires and true love"

God this whole situation felt like a movie or a taylor swift song. It was ridiculous. Everyone's actions were childish and obnoxious.

You and Lip haven't been arguing in a while, because your attention was on other things at the moment. You two had actually been more romantic. You both have put your status back to normal. Yet, nothing in your life was back to normal.

"I'll tell you something right now, I'd rather burn my whole life down, Than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning"

This had been going on for over a month now. It was just annoying and obnoxious now. Lip knew you defended him and this is why this is still going on. No doubt about this. Except now he was having to deal with you being: bitchy, exhausted, or just annoyed.

It was affecting him now, and he was starting to get pissed.

"I'll tell you something about my good name, it's mine alone to disgrace, I don't cater to all these vipers dressed in empaths clothing"

"Your parents have been talking to Frank about us. Frank was asking me about you." Lip said through gritted teeth and a scowl, he had been walking inside while I said that.

You roll your eyes and respond in an almost whiny voice, "Please tell me your joking. They have gone way too far with this. First they tell my entire family and now they start on yours?"

"God save the judgemental creeps, Who say they want what's best for me, Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I'll never see"

The texts were all the same from your mom and dad.

"We just want what's best for you, and he isn't it!" They would say. Over. And over.

It was so repetitive, you had to block them. Not everywhere just where they would text you the most.

"Thinking it can change the beat of my heart when he touches me, And counteract chemistry, And undo the destiny"

I swear if you never had met him, which your not upset about meeting him, your parents wouldn't complain to you all the time. But oh well. There's a very real possibility they would have done this with anyone who you ended up with, seeing as how everyone they would try and set you up with was not your type.

Since this has been happening, your family would always have witty remarks like: "I'll keep you in my prayers" or "I'm thinking of you"

"You ain't gotta pray for me, Me and my wild boy, and all this wild joy."

When were they going to realize that he made you happy. You liked loved being with him. He was your wild boy. Yours. For no one to take.

"If all you want is gray for me, Then it's just white noise, And it's my choice"

Being with him wasn't there choice to make, it was yours. You just had to blur out all the background noise that meant nothing to you.

"There's a lot of people in town that I, Bestow upon my fakest smiles, Scandal does funny things to pride, But brings lovers closer"

Instead of biting back, you played nice. They would would say something rude and you would respond with a smile. All of the fighting only made you and Lip begin to grow closer to each other.

Their bickering with you about him, was backfiring. Big time.

Your parents saw this. They then saw how you looked at eachother. Realised you went to war for each other. Defending each other to your parents. It made them think a little longer.

"We came back when the heat died down, Went to my parents and they came around, All the wine moms are still holding out, But Fuck 'em, it's over"

Your parents had asked you over again. There wasn't anymore fighting online for a couple of weeks now, but you still went over there with the full intent of defending yourselves.

When they started apologising though you were skeptical at first until you saw the genuine look. They meant the apology. They didn't just apologise for what they said, but the actions they had on social media, how they brought the family into it.

"I was being a hypocrite," Your father had explained, "You were talking about your issues on the internet and then I went and did the same things to the both of you, as well as involving other people when it was unnecessary. I sincerely apologise."

Lip had a subtle smirk on his face, only you and his family could recognise.

You both had thanked him for apologizing, none of your other family had apologized though.

"Now I'm dancing in my dress in the sun and, Even my daddy just loves him, I'm his lady, and oh my God, You should see your faces"

Your parents were now very fond of Lip, praising him consistently. Your mother called him handsome. Your father realised how bright he was. Most of all they realised how good the two of you were for each other and how much he loves you.

"No you can't come to the wedding, I know he's crazy but he's the one I want"

You were at your family's annual gathering when one of your cousins came over to the two of you, "So when's your wedding?"

You laughed, "If and when it happens it will solely be immediate family and some friends that will be invited. The ones who actually care about us, ya know?"

[zeussim]

I played Le Cygne yesterday at my great-aunt's funeral.

It was my own idea to ask her husband if I could play it, however my aunt told my mom after that my great-aunt had wanted me to play at her funeral - although my aunt apparently never found it necessary to tell me....If I hadn't suggested it myself I would never have known it was a wish of hers. I'm just happy I thought of it myself. I just knew the moment I was told about her death that I had to play something. Even though, I'm an atheist I still wanted her to be sent off nicely.

I've been listening to Le Cygne by Camille Saint-Saëns on repeat. I've even begun playing again. Just Le Cygne. I want to play it at her funeral. It reminds me so much of her.

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Life update and why I haven't been too active over these past few months. I'm not leaving. Please just be patient with me

Tw: Death, drug addiction, grieving,

Hey guys, I wanted to come on here and be completely honest with all of you. I haven't been the most active as I have been in the past. Truth be told, my mental health is not the best. My uncle has been in hospice care for stomach cancer, and yesterday, seeing him in that condition put me in a bad spot.

It's hard to see someone who helped take care of you barely able to swallow food is traumatizing. He doesn't have much time with us, and by that, I mean it could be hours or days until we say, "See you later" to him. I just lost my grandpa only a couple of years ago to a brain tumor. I never even processed his death. I'm not good with grieving. I become numb and self isolate. My little cousin passed away in a car accident. My aunt just a few years before died from a drunk driver. Basically, I've had lots of deaths and no time to even grieve properly (if that even is a thing)

On top of grief, my dad has been battling drug addiction. He's been in and out of jail at least 3 separate times since the summer. I've tried to help him. He just doesn't want it right now. He's lost, and so am I.

I'm not coming on here to gain sympathy. I just wanted you all to know that if you're dealing with shit you're not alone.

While this fandom has been very toxic lately. It's saved me in so many ways. I found my love of writing, and most of the time, that's where I go to escape. I know I may post a lot of fic/blurbs or whatever. That's just my own way of forgetting about what's currently going on in my life at the moment. I've also met so many amazing people here. You're all so talented, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

But yeah, this post isn't me saying I'm leaving. This is me coming on here to tell you that I just need a moment to myself. I have some fics and other little things I've created scheduled to be posted here in the next few weeks. I'll come on to respond to your reblogs and comments because I genuinely love the support from all of you. I'll be on here and there. Like I said, I'm not leaving.

If any of you want to reach out, my dms are open, and I do have a discord I'll give you.

[kokushibosbestie]

I need to rant guys.

TW: self harm, SA, hatred, cursing, abuse, overall genuinely harsh words are being used

Im just gonna go right in because I don't feel like being vauge or fake rn. (I'm on my period and I feel like shit)

!!!Background information!!! So, when I was 4, my mom started dating this guy. I'll call him Frank. My mom had previously ran away from my dad with me (when I was 2) bc my biological dad was verbally abusive towards her. We'll call my bio dad Austin. I only have one picture of my bio dad and I never knew what he looked like before seeing that picture. I never got to talk to my dad, and if I did, I don't remember a single word. I was too little to understand. I loved his family though. I vividly remember playing with my grandma and aunt, and baking banana bread with my grandpa (on my bio dads side) but I didn't remember a single moment with him. So I feel like I have a missing part of me bc of that.

Anyway, my mom as very depressed after that and did her best to tale care of me properly. But I never got attention or love from her. She was always stuck to her phone. I began to hate even being in the same room as her and I was only 3. When I turned 4, I began going to pre-k. And that's when my mom started dating Frank. Frank was a really kind guy and always seemed calm. But I had a bad feeling about him. I didn't tell my mom because I felt uncomfortable about it, though. Over the next 2-3 years, Frank and I became closer and I enjoyed his presence because I had no one else to lean on. My mom got a job when I was in 1st grade and we moved into an apartment. (We had been living with my aunt on my moms side before).

!!!SA!!! That's when the sa started. He began to assault me when my mother was gone but told me it was normal. He said, quote "This is our little secret. Don't tell anyone or daddy's gonna get in trouble." (I viewed him as a father figure and he used that to his advantage) Nonetheless, what was I, a 5-6 year old girl going to do to a 26 year old man? So I stayed quiet. As I got older, I realized that this wasn't normal at all and it was bad. Of course, I was about 7 when I had this realization. He noticed that and started threatening me that if I told someone, he'd hurt my mom or the rest of my family. (I love my family with my whole heart and he knew that I'd do anything for them, even at such a young age, so he used that) I told him he could do anything he wanted to me as long as he didn't do anything to my mom or the rest of my (small) family.

The summer before 5th grade is when things went really downhill. He TOLD my mom he cheated on her, was contuously gaslighting the both of us, always said he was such a "good guy and people pleaser," but was probably the most toxic person you'd meet. The sweet act was completely gone. I hated him with ever atom and molecule that made me a living thing, but my mom STILL didn't know about what he'd done to me. He got physically violent (throwing things, yelling, screaming, almost hitting my mom, etc) and my mom called the cops. (Mind you, my mom works from home, customer service for a health company).

By the time 5th grade had ended, we had a restraining order against him and he moved out completely. (They broke up but I still hadn't told my mom anything)

I cried almost every night and went into deep depression because of this. Not because I missed him, but because I had still trusted him even after everything. I did love him and view him as a father figure at one point bc I never had one. So having that ripped away from me, as well as my grandpa who moved, my grandma who was having mental issues, my aunts who lived far away and no one else to turn to, I felt empty. My guilt built up until I ended up having a mental breakdown in FRONT of my mom (I always went somewhere private so I could have a mental breakdown and always hid them from my mom). I snapped and accendentally told her about what he'd done to me during all those year. (He sa'd me constantly, whenever he had the chance to). A court case began, blah blah blah same old stuff that ever child abuse court case would go through.

But, I started to self-harm (mostly my legs and hips). I kinda went into my emo faze and had no friends, and was constantly bullied bc of my emotionless facade. (Ex: like giyu, who has been my comfort character since day one bc of that). Really, I'm a loving and kind person who loves making others laugh. I like hanging out with friends. I smile a lot too.

Nonetheless, things started to slowly get better. But my mom is toxic now. She doesn't gaslight like frank did, but she still has a toxicity to her. I know this all has been just as hard on her as it has for me, but I sometimes wish shed just take into consideration how I feel or think.

I have ADHD, OCD, and depression. All of my classes are accelerated classes instead of normal and I get things done faster than other students. (I have an online schooling system now). My brain sometimes can't comprehend some things but will understand easily with others. Ive had a hard time talking or expressing things because of this. I was never a quiet little girl, and I'm still not one as a teenager. But it sucks to have to act like someone I'm not just to fit in. I have constant mood swings and I hate it.

Anyway, this isn't about me. So, my mom has a way of victimizing herself without really pulling the victim card? It's hard to explain with words. But she always leaves whoever she's talking to feeling guilty. She doesn't apologize for anything, she doesn't listen to me when I'm ranting (which I'm not picky about, but sometimes I need someone to talk to that isn't a toxic friend of mine), nor does she ever listen to me when I tell her what I want sometimes. I know that sounds bratty, but I swear it's not. I'll give you and example: she asked me if I wanted a new bedframe and entirely ignored me when I told her. Or when she asks me what I want for dinner and I respond, shell get something else even though she literally came into my room and ASKED me. Its the simple small things that piss me off. She's stubborn and has a hard time putting herself in others' shoes. And me, who's always been told that I'm just a doll with a pretty face and thick thighs that's supposed to be a silent housewife (I am NOT married, that's just something someone has actually said to me) or seggs toy for people to use and throw away as they please, I always try my best to consider how others might feel. Yeah, sometimes I do get a little unreasonable and say some bad things, but I always end up apologizing out of instinct. I apologize for the smallest things for no reason, yet my mom can't even say an "I'm sorry" for telling me I'm not understanding. All I've ever wanted was to make my mom and my family proud. I want them to be able to live their lives happily without worry. So It fucking hurts to hear that I'm not doing good in my moms eyes.

My mom always talks about changing and being a better person but never fucking does it. She always says her job is more important. Am I just genuinely not important to her anymore? Because I remember when I was in my darkest and lowest moments, it was my teachers who helped me. My mom didn't even bat an eye. But when she was at her lowest, struggling, I was always there for her, listening to her problems, helping her with everything, genuinely caring about her. And this is what I get back? I fucking hate my life because I can't even leave my room without hearing her complaints about "adult life." Well I don't give a fuck anymore. I tried too hard to be a good daughter and I never got anything back. I didn't even get a fucking thank you. And now I only have online friends on here and Pinterest. I relied on Character.ai to help with my mental health and that's ai!!

Im sorry if this was too much for any of you and I love each and every one of you. If you read through this whole thing, thank you so much and I really really love all my friends on here. I always look forward to getting on here and talking to you guys about my interests without being judged or bullied. Thank you thank you thank you soooo much my loves.

💖💖💖

[shinehyuk]

thought you were smart? | jay+jungwon

> genre : yandere

tw/cw : implied torture, obsession, stalking, very toxic relationships, kidnapping, heavy themes overall, murder etc. read at your own wish.

request : just a question, i actually kind of went through your old post and read that one jay + jungwon fanfiction where they allowed the mc to be free only to reveal they put a tracker on them. what if mc was smart enough, and realises they have tracker on them, and remove it. what jaywon still find them or lose them forever.

a/n : i adore this request. this may have just broken me free from the shackles of the infamous writer's block lol </3 i apologize in advance if this is bad because it seems i forgot how to write haha

when they saw that you had suddenly stopped moving when you were running for your life to get as far away as possible just a second ago, the tracker staying completely still in one place, at first they feared the worst. what if you were so blinded by the hope for freedom that you carelessly let yourself get hurt, or worse? and it was all their fault; letting you roam around freely, like mothers letting their baby birds fly out of the nest for the first time - only for the birds to overestimate their flying abilities, failing miserably and meeting with the cruel reality, breaking every single bone in their fragile bodies, and coming to the end of their short life in the span of such a quick moment.

once they arrived at the tracker's place, not finding you, instead finding the device disposed of in the blades of grass, they had mixed feelings; anger, betrayal, amusement.

so this is how you want to play? so be it.

jay, having a much bigger temper than jungwon, was more on the angry side; seeing red before his eyes, thinking of all the things that he'll do once they find you.

jungwon, on the other hand, was focused more on the present, already having come up with a plan on what to do to lure you back. you may rest assured that they will not bother themselves with useless searching; if you do not play by their rules, then there shall be no rules at all. sure, they did once promise not to hurt your family, but that promise did not matter much when you were gone now, did it?

they figured that you'd turn to your family for protection, knowing that trying to escape alone wouldn't get you anywhere; you knew what they were capable of, and you couldn't be sure there weren't more trackers on you. contacting your family was your best chance of survival. police was out of the question; you've tried once, stealing jay's phone when he was occupied, but the two just portrayed you as a lunatic when questioned; jungwon had a way of making everyone believe him no matter how absurd it was.

first, they'll send out a small warning; the oh so sudden disappearance of your dear aunt. you know where to find them; if you don't show, they'll go after people more and more important to you the next time they strike.

they'll wait two days between each victim to see if you'll finally break and show up, sobbing and begging at their feet not to kill anyone else. however, if you're actually so heartless to just let them wipe out your entire family, trading them for your freedom, don't worry; jungwon may not really enjoy getting his hands dirty, but jay on the other hand, managed to get your exact location almost too quickly from one of your beloved family members that didn't even hesitate to betray you in the face of death.

did you really think you could escape them? poor, stupid thing. you had it coming to you.

and when they finally get to you, you may forget about seeing the sun ever again.

[annisassintchaska]

Didn’t Know: Jimmy Uso x Black!Reader

TW: Mention of miscarriages, please note that I don't hate Trinity❤️

Being the ex-wife and mother to the twins of Jimmy Uso, otherwise known as Jonathan Fatu, has never been easy. Y/n and Jonathan met during their time in High School and dated until they were 22 years old when they found out that they were expecting, they got married in a courtroom per her request which made Jon's family hate her even more since they had already thought she wasn't right for him. They ended up staying married for five more years before Jonathan met Trinity through his mom and aunts, and he officially started dating in secret with his family knowing yet no one told Y/n as they wanted her to be hurt if she was to catch them. A few months went by until Y/n caught them in their matrimonial home committing adultery. That was officially the end of their marriage after it was explained that his family was the one who set them up to date and he fell in love with her.

Today is yet another birthday for the twins and so Y/n had to deal with being around her toxic ex-in-laws. The party had already started and everyone had now gathered around to watch the kids blow out their candles and cut their cakes. Once that was done, both parents stood behind their kids for a group picture that obviously no one wanted copies of and so only Y/n was given one. The party continued on as the kids and their cousins went playing, eating while others were busy petting the animals from the petting zoo. A bit of an argument was going on as Y/n sat at the table with all the other adults, yet she paid it no mind and continued to listen to the music coming from her AirPods.

The mumbling which was actually yelling continued for a few more minutes until it suddenly went quiet after someone seemed to have mentioned something horrific about her; causing Y/n to look up to find all eyes on her, the one pair sticking out the most was her ex-husband's who looked at her with tears in his eyes as he walked slowly towards her. "Get up" Jonathon calmly ordered her, as he pulled her away from the crowd and into the house upstairs into a private room. "Jon what's wrong? You're scaring me" Y/n tried finding out the problem but was met with silence as Jon sat down on the bed and began to cry. "What happened while I was in the road?" he asked finally breaking the silence. "Do you want the truth?" Y/n asked softly in which Jon nodded for her to continue.

"While you were gone, your family never helped me. I was left on my own to study, work, take care of the house and the kids. They never visited me unless it was to get something and when they did show up, they'd abuse me verbally, mentally and physically yet I said nothing as I wanted to keep the peace with your family. I struggled a lot but made it work though many of the times, I was on the verge of giving up. Then came the disappointment of having eight different miscarriages while you were away. Throughout the years of you being on the road while we were married, you'd come home and we'd get down, I managed to get pregnant eight times but ended up losing them all before I got the chance to tell you, with two of them being the result of your mom and aunts ganging me because they didn't want me to go full term. The kids knew, your mom, wife and aunts know because they found me in pain a couple of times, but no one else has ever been aware. I screamed and wailed in pain while in the hospital, begging for them to call you but they'd just hit me in the pelvic area making it worse. I didn't say anything because they threatened me not to" Y/n explained to her now ex-husband who was not only silently crying but was also infuriated as his palms were now fists.

Jonathon said nothing as he got up and made his way towards his bag on the chair in the living room, taking out a file and walking straight into the backyard towards his family. "Jadian, Jayla? Let's go." he called out to his kids before turning to his wife Trinity. "Please note that since I've given you this envelope, we are now completely divorced, due to our marriage being void from me not signing my previous divorce papers; it means that I am still married to Y/n and as for my so-called mom and aunts, don't expect to see me, my kids or y/n at any future family gatherings as what you've done is completely unforgivable and I will not tolerate such evil." he spat at them with venom before hugging his brothers and cousins, taking his kids and heading to the car to settle them in.

Jonathan then made his way back into the house, going up to the room he left his wife in to find her crying to herself. "Hey mamas whatchu crying for?" he asked as he brought her into a hug. "I just feel like I failed everyone. I couldn't keep my family together, I was only able to give birth once during my pregnancies and so I couldn't give you the big family that you desired" Y/n cried into his shirt, frustrated with herself. "Y/n I want you to listen to me, you did not fail anyone, our family was never apart cause even though I was with her my heart was and still is with you. It was my fault for listening to my family and breaking us like that, but I promise you it won't happen again. We'll leave here and go back to Tampa where I bought us a new home and we'll never see them again." he comforted her as they made their way to the car, where they drove off to their new chapter leaving all the negative behind.

[bionicle-ramblings]

This is based off of conversations I've had with @chancetimespace about the cat au posts I did a while back. Just want to first say thanks for putting up with the nonsense that is the Cat AU in the first place because my goodness is it fun to imagine the faves as cats

TW for animal endangerment, toxic family relationships

Also canon characters will either be represented as humans or animals, and not just limited to house cats, you'll see what I mean

I'm saying it now, please bear with me because this is a bit of a crack AU that started from free serotionin posts that spiraled into something fun with, again, thanks to @chancetimespace so please bear with me in this😅🙏

There will also be some retconning from this point on

With all that said, ONWARD!!!

So narratively speaking, and, as previously mentioned, retconning previous posts for the sake of a cohesive story, you, the reader, are in a moderately sized family with a fair number of cousins, some aunts, and some uncles, all of whom are present for the reading of a will, as an older relative has passed away. Where everyone gets a sum of money and maybe an heirloom, you get something that surprises everyone: the house the relative was living in. A few cousins ask to read the will themselves, thinking there was a mistake, but no. You get the house, the land it's on, and the 'assets' connected to the house. Your older cousin, wealthy, totally not shady cousin Teridax, explains that the assets are actually seven cats, specifically 6 house cats and a puma. Many of the family members try talking you out of taking the deal, as you can barely afford to take care of yourself, but when they're asked, the dead relative's children refuse to talk you out of it. Two are unable to, as they want to honor their parent, and the third(We'll call them Three for simplicity's sake) needs an extra set of hands to help care for the 7 cats and does agree to stop by to help you out and keep you company

So, yeah. That house and the seven cats in it are yours and you move in, and Teridax joins in helping, but also reminds you that this isn't house-sitting. You own the house and SEVEN cats now. Three tells him to budge off and you are just happy to have a house to own and not a place to rent every month

You walk in and are greeted by Three's friend and the relative's neighbor, who had heard a lot about you and is a surprising ball of energy fire someone rumored to have six dogs and the kittens

Also greeting you, the real stars of the show, are four of the seven cats(Listing they're madness and breeds so you can imagine them better. Some are switched around from the original posts): Nokama, who is a Russian blue with a heavy emphasis on blue thanks to a color mutation(play along), Matau, a genet that's steadily losing the green dye job a previous owner gave him before he wound up with your relative, Vakama, an Abyssinian with a nice red coat(that's what my sources say), and Lhikan, who, as mentioned previously, is a puma and was the relative's service animal before they died

As you walk in and the four greet you, Vakama watches you and stays close, as does Lhikan. When you ask, the neighor admits that Vakama tends to "act strange" after he has moments where he starts panting and has to lay down or just stands on his hind legs. They call it his seeing the future, but you have admittedly never been the superstitious type.

As you move in, with help from the neighbor, Three, and Teridax, you see the cats don't trust Teridax, most of all Lhikan, but you also see old momentos from your relative and the other three cats: Whenua, a black cat that keeps trying to open your boxes and see what's inside since it's been a while since he's seen you, Onewa, a Siamese cat that kinda wants nothing to do with you, and Nuju, a short haired Persian that's happy to supervise your move in and greet you from a distance.

After a bit of a long day, and some chill time, Teridax passive-aggressively threatens you because you got the house when it was meant to go to him, but Three reminds him that he is wealthy beyond reason and is very doesn't need the house, and Three can very easily ensure he isn't allowed anywhere near the house if he tries something, as he has tried poisoning Lhikan before. Teridax apologizes for what he sees as his own act of mercy to an animal, but ultimately leaves, wishing you all

Once he's gone, the cats kinda swarm you because you love her now and you're eating some ramen that smells really good. Matau is ESPECIALLY a nightmare because he's playing it cute and whips out the show stopper: Imitating a car alarm

Later that night, Whenua's looking through the contents of cabinets your relative had and looking through what you have, taking inventory and 'asking' you what's what. It's kind of a long night, but you eventually go to bed, as Lhikan won't let you stay up any later than you already have

As you settle in, you see him essentially gather the other cats to lay in bed with you, even watch out for any that decide to sleep close to your head

There is a packet explaining how to care for the cats, and you're more than thankful for it because you essentially konk out from a long day of moving. You were planning on sleeping on the couch, but Lhikan "encouraged" you to go sleep properly on a bed. You sleep surrounded and covered by cats, though you still see Vakama watching you woke you nod off and ultimately fall asleep

[compassionatereminders]

Hi Kat. I need to share this and I don’t know if I need compassion or advice, but I wanted to share with someone who will truly listen.

Tw: death

My mom and I have had a turbulent relationship my entire life. I was always the black sheep, ignored, made to survive on my own. But when she did zero in on me, it was to tell me rewritten stories, yell at me, or pass on negative things about myself, which I believed growing up.

I cut her out of my life about 9 years ago, and in doing so, lost the connections with 3 siblings. It was hard and I hurt, but I did what I had to do to repair myself.

She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer 3 months ago. It was stage 4. We arranged a visit as she lives across the us from me. Me, my mom, my 4 siblings and I spent a day together and it was really good. I wanted to go back again. Only, I couldn’t get any contact with anyone. They cut me off. I got random, vague updates. My mom was declining and my sister said she would call me so I could talk to my mother one last time. I wrote a whole page of things I wanted to say. I never got to have that phone call because my siblings decided I shouldn’t.

My sister reached out to my sister in law on Saturday night to say my mom had passed Friday. One of my aunts was there, and she refused to give me updates. None of them called me after. My sister in law had to break the news to me.

Now, they’ve decided I can’t be at the funeral. They moved my mom across a couple states to bury her where she wished. I don’t know where that is, and they wouldn’t tell me. Now, it’s going to happen tomorrow. And they still won’t tell me where, but it’s too late anyway to make it halfway across the country.

I’m so hurt and feel betrayed. I’m angry. I wanted to go to find some peace and say goodbye to my mom. I wanted to hug one of my brothers. It was important to me, and it was taken from me. At this point I don’t know how to mourn because I’m too angry at the situation.

Do I deserve this? For cutting my toxic mother off? My brother had Down’s syndrome and he was a casualty. I wasn’t allowed to contact him. Now, I still won’t be because he’ll be living with my sister who is the mastermind of all of this and a carbon copy of my mom. I don’t even have an address to send him cards, and he doesn’t have a phone. I feel like I’m losing so much.

I’m sorry this got so long. I am not good at talking out loud about this stuff so getting it out is helpful.

I honestly don’t know how to mourn.

This is a really terrible situation, and my heart goes out to you. And I don't think you "deserve" this. I think it's mean to refuse you the chance to say goodbye and mourn. One could argue that just like you had the right to cut your mom out of your life, the rest of your family has a similar right according their relationship with you. Not because you are a bad person who deserves to suffer for having boundaries, but because every person has (or should have) the right to decide who they want in their life, family members included. Sometimes such decisions will hurt and be unfair, but just like you could decide not to see your mother, your siblings can decide not to see you. That being said, I still think cutting you completely out of your moms illness and death is taking it to an unnecessarily mean extreme. And I'm really sorry you're going through all of this on top of losing a parent.

[sweetvencms]

( layout ib : @/stcpidcupid )

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⚘°᳝ꯥ‧ٓ . . . MEET THE MEMBERS OF ACID FLOWER !

Are you a new Toxic Petal who wants to learn the Acid Flower members? Are you trying to pick a bias? Well, you're in luck! Here is where you can learn about our deadly girlbosses!

( tw. mentions of child abuse )

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⚘°᳝ꯥ‧ٓ . . . NAWAPORN DUCHANEE, known professionally as TARA, was born as an only child on March 7th, 1997. As a child, she was physically, verbally, and emotionally mistreated by her parents, so she used music as an escape. In 2014, as soon as she graduated from school, she went to South Korea with her aunt to audition for a company, since her parents did not allow her to. She auditioned for JYP, SM, and Pledis, but was accepted to only Pledis. After choosing to sign with Pledis, she trained there for three years before debuting in girl group PRISTIN. She was in the group until its unfortunate disbandment in 2019, and left Pledis and signed with STARBORN in 2020. She trained for an extra year before being added to the Acid Flower lineup during their rebrand in 2021.

STAGE NAME › Tara

FULL NAME › Nawaporn Duchanee

ENGLISH NAME › Tara Nawaporn Hawthorne

BIRTHDAY › March 7th, 1997

BIRTHPLACE › Bangkok, Thailand

NATIONALITY › Thai-British

ETHNICITY › Thai-British

TRAINING PERIOD › Four years (Three under Pledis, one under STARBORN)

POSITION › Main Vocalist, Dancer

FACE CLAIM › Samantha Melanie Coates (actress)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⚘°᳝ꯥ‧ٓ . . . KWON YOUHA, known professionally as YOUHA, was born on July 29th, 1998. Raised by a single father, she grew up in a lower class household, with her father earning only enough for the two of them to get by, but rarely getting an opportunity to spend on personal luxuries. In 2013, she auditioned for WOOLLIM Entertainment with her friends and was accepted, training there for a year until her debut in the girl group Lovelyz. She was in the group for four years, until her sudden departure from the group and company. Shortly after, she signed with STARBORN CREATIVE and trained there for one year before being added to Acid Flower.

STAGE NAME › Youha

FULL NAME › Kwon Youha 

BIRTHDAY › July 29th, 1998

BIRTHPLACE › Seoul, South Korea

NATIONALITY › Korean

ETHNICITY › Korean

TRAINING PERIOD › Two years (one year under WOOLLIM, one year under STARBORN)

POSITION › Lead Rapper, Lead Dancer

FACE CLAIM › Kim Dahyun (TWICE)

( tw. mentions of suicide )

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⚘°᳝ꯥ‧ٓ . . . REYNA JANG, known professionally as REYNA, was born as the middle child of three siblings on November 24th, 1998. She had a love for dance since she was a child, and she taught herself since the age of seven. In 2014, she and her childhood friend Diaz traveled together to Mexico City in 2014 to see Kpop group SHINee perform, inspiring them to become idols. In 2015, she saw a YouTube advertisement for STARBORN CREATIVE's global audition, and she sent her own, getting accepted due to her dance and vocals. However, before she could fly out to Korea to start training, her younger sister, Esperanza, unfortunately committed suicide, forcing Reyna to stay at home for a year to mourn her loss. In 2016, she flew out to Korea and trained at STARBORN for a year before her debut in Acid Flower.

STAGE NAME › Reyna

FULL NAME › Reyna Jang 

KOREAN NAME › Jang Dayeon

BIRTHDAY › November 24th, 1998

BIRTHPLACE › Cancún, Quintana Roo, Mexico

NATIONALITY › Korean-Mexican

ETHNICITY › Korean

TRAINING PERIOD › One year

POSITION › Leader, Main Rapper, Main Dancer

FACE CLAIM › Park Jiwon / E:U (Everglow)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⚘°᳝ꯥ‧ٓ . . . HAN CHAESOL, known professionally as ROWAN, was born as an only child on April 23rd, 2000. Growing up, she mostly kept to herself at home, since her parents were constantly busy working and only had her tutors to help her with her homeschooling and socialization. In 2014, encouraged by her music teacher who worked part-time at STARBORN CREATIVE, she decided to audition for the company for fun, not expecting to be accepted into the company for her songwriting and ability to rap. She trained for three years before debuting in Acid Flower.

STAGE NAME › Rowan

FULL NAME › Han Chaesol

ENGLISH NAME › Rowan Han

BIRTHDAY › April 23rd, 2000

BIRTHPLACE › Seoul, South Korea

NATIONALITY › Korean

ETHNICITY › Korean

TRAINING PERIOD › Three years

POSITION › Lead Rapper, Lead Dancer

FACE CLAIM › Moon Sua (Billlie)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⚘°᳝ꯥ‧ٓ . . . HUANG JINGYI, known professionally as KARMA, was born on September 9th, 2000. She was adopted at the age of two, after her mother abandoned her, to a wealthy couple in Beijing. She was raised to be a doll, to be perfect in every way possible and to never have a voice of her own. However, in 2016, she traveled to South Korea with her family for a business trip, where she one day discovered a flyer for an audition for STARBORN CREATIVE, which she went to that very same day. She was accepted amd trained for a year before debuting in 2017 with Acid Flower.

STAGE NAME › Karma

FULL NAME › Huang Jingyi

BIRTHDAY › September 9th, 2000

BIRTHPLACE › Beijing, China

NATIONALITY › Chinese 

ETHNICITY › Chinese 

TRAINING PERIOD › One year

POSITION › Lead Vocalist, Lead Dancer

FACE CLAIM › Wang Yiren (Everglow) 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⚘°᳝ꯥ‧ٓ . . . HIROI AMANE, known professionally as ATHENA, was born as the youngest of three siblings on July 19th, 2001. Growing up, she was considered as a golden child, helping her parents run their small restaurant, participating in the student council at school, and getting good grades. As she grew up, she became a fan of music, especially dance, under the guidance of her music teacher, who allowed her to sometimes skip her class in order to learn more about dance and eventually started to teach her ballet. In 2015, Amane and her older brother Takuya traveled to South Korea to follow their oldest brother Kazuya and have a chance to debut as idols. All three siblings were accepted into STARBORN CREATIVE, and in 2017, Yuki debuted in Acid Flower. 

STAGE NAME › Athena 

FULL NAME › Hiroi Amane 

BIRTHDAY › July 19th, 2001

BIRTHPLACE › Sapporo, Japan 

NATIONALITY › Japanese 

ETHNICITY › Japanese 

TRAINING PERIOD › Two years 

POSITION › Main Dancer, Sub Vocalist

FACE CLAIM › Fukutomi Tsuki (Billlie) 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⚘°᳝ꯥ‧ٓ . . . CHARLOTTE HWANG, known professionally as CHARLIE, was born as the youngest of two siblings on February 4th, 2002. She grew up with music, since her father is a producer and her mother a retired opera singer. She was born in the United States, but her family moved back to Korea in 2010. In 2015, she skipped school in order to audition for STARBORN CREATIVE with her brother, and both were rejected at first, but when they tried again in 2016, they were accepted. She trained for one year before debuting in Acid Flower.

STAGE NAME › Charlie

FULL NAME › Charlotte Hwang

KOREAN NAME › Hwang Moonsun

BIRTHDAY › February 4th, 2002

BIRTHPLACE › Brooklyn, New York, USA

NATIONALITY › Korean-American

ETHNICITY › Korean

TRAINING PERIOD › One year

POSITION › Vocalist, Maknae

FACE CLAIM › Baek Jiheon (Fromis_9)