#tw young smoker

[jackiespurnell]

locked inside your heart shaped box - part two (no crash au jackie taylor x natalie scatorccio)

part one

summary: jackie's the hot, popular homecoming queen that everybody adores. she's destined to be the perfect housewife, but all her plans change a bit when tough burnout natalie scatorccio moves to wiskayok. cue the drama, the romance, and the sudden realization that maybe jackie isn't as straight as she thought...

tw: mentions of slut shaming, brief stereotyping, mentions of sex

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okay, look. if jackie had known that the girl she was assigned to show around her school was going to be the same girl who ended up taking her coffee order and therefore caused her to have a somewhat nervous breakdown because jackie has no sense of self when things aren’t going according to plan, she probably would have made a better effort to not have said nervous breakdown. (the again, if she had known in advance that this going to be a concern, she could have adjusted her plan to fit this in it. it’s not her fault she can’t tell the future or whatever).

she’s not exactly sure if natalie recognized her, but she smiled slightly, and the grunge girl exterior didn’t exactly scream ‘oh, let me pretend to be polite and friendly so i don’t cause problems’, so jackie figured natalie didn’t have too low of an opinion of her.

now, jackie knows she wasn’t outright rude or mean or anything. in fact, she knows that her attitude was probably above average customer behavior (approximately 74% percent of food service workers in new jersey have reported emotional abuse or harassment from consumers in the past year) but still, jackie held the highest standards for herself. she had to always be friendly and kind, and awkwardly nodding and staring wasn’t really the most friendly or kind thing to do.

but how could she not nod and stare? it was a suburban town in new fucking jersey in 1996, for crying out loud. sure, there’s a fair share of emo kids and whatever, but they’re usually just burnouts and smokers. not that she knew for sure natalie wasn’t a burnout who smoked - jackie was taught from a young age that stereotyping is bad (although jackie knows damn well that her parents wouldn’t appreciate jackie even talking to natalie, but of course, they would be too polite to say anything) - but she knew what kind of group nat was fit in it from the get to. yet, there was something different about natalie.

she could tell straight away that natalie wasn’t like them. cause kids like them would have made some dumb comment at jackie’s awkwardness. kids like them wouldn't be working at a coffee shop of all places. kids like them wouldn’t be standing in front of jackie, politely waiting for her to give them a tour of their new school, smiling at her.

“hi.” jackie perks up, hoping she could just slip back into her nice girl persona quick enough that natalie wouldn’t notice. “you ready?” she asks the blonde, to which she just receives a little nod. “yeah.”

jackie spends the next hour or so showing natalie around. she shows her the science lab where she accidentally fried her hair in tenth grade, the math class where she cried over an 89 on a test (she had all As that year, okay, she was really devastated), the gymnasium where she got named homecoming queen. 

she tries to ignore the growing pit in her stomach when realizes that she’s missing out on the few first classes of her senior year. she knows it’s probably not a big deal, they’re most likely not even learning anything the first day, and even if they were, at least jackie gets to skip class. but still. she can’t help but feel like she’s missing out. that something important is going to happen while she’s over here showing around the new kid. and natalie’s being so nice. and she’s funny and cool.

jackie doesn’t like that. (or rather, jackie doesn’t like how much she likes it.)

“and here’s our sports field.” jackie says, leading natalie outside to the grassy area outside of their school. “it’s used for all the sports games and practices. including what is objectively the best sport ever invented in the history of invented sports - soccer.”

“there are non invented sports?” natalie teases, to which jackie nods jokingly. “oh, absolutely. some of them just spawned out of nowhere. those are typically the shitty ones. like golf. like, who even likes golf?” 

“and what if i said i did, hmm?” natalie fake gasps, putting her hand to her heart as if offended. which she obviously wasn’t, if not noticeable by the way she’s stifling a laugh, then by the natalie does not like the type of person who would play golf. “then i’d say you’re opinion is terrible and you are wrong.” jackie ignores the weird feeling in her chest when she hears natalie laugh for real this time.

“i actually do play soccer though.” natalie said. “or at least at my old school i did.”

“maybe you should consider tryouts.” jackie says, and she isn’t sure why exactly she says it, she hasn’t even really figured out her opinion on natalie, so why the hell would she want to bring this girl into the one place where she knows she could be herself? it didn’t make any sense. but then natalie says “maybe i will” and jackie suddenly feels even worse.

“i’m actually the team captain this year.” jackie says, which basically means yes, you’re chill and you’re cool and you’re hot but that doesn’t mean you’re all that except for the fact that you actually are all that and it makes me feel weird so this is me trying to one up you. “so, i’m already in, but i’ll be helping out with tryouts.”

“captain, huh? you’re not gonna purposely screw me over at tryouts, are you?” nat says casually, playing into the easy banter.

and jackie knows that natalie is joking. and jackie also knows that if she it didn’t go against all the rules she set for herself, she absolutely would screw natalie over. she knows she’s a better person than most, and that’s not her being cocky, it’s just true. she knows she’s nice. it’s all she’s ever tried to be. and so far, she’s been doing pretty good. she’s a nice person, and nice people don’t exclude people they just met from their school’s soccer team just because they happen to be a tad bit cooler than you. it’s like, the number one rule of niceness or something.

“maybe i will, maybe i won’t.” jackie quips back, and she can’t help but crack a smile.

“why did you transfer here anyways? a small, dull town in jersey? there’s literally nothing.” jackie says, and if she was even a tinier bit better at navigating social cues, she’d be able to tell how natalie tenses at the question (but, unfortunately for both parties, she isn’t).

“um i moved.” natalie says. “it’s for my father’s, uh, job.” she says, avoiding eye contact. jackie just nods, humming slightly to herself. “where did you move from?” jackie says, walking ahead of natalie, picking at her nails. she’s always been told she has a tendency of walking fast, always constantly ahead of shauna or her parents or whoever it is she’s hanging out with.

“the city.” natalie says. “about an hour from here.”

“damn. well, then this is for sure a downgrade.” jackie teases. “but it’s not all bad. i mean, i’ve been here my whole life. it’s chill. if you like the suburban life, that is.” she quickly adds.

“and do you enjoy the suburban life?” natalie questions, and now it’s jackie’s turn to freeze up because how the hell do you answer a question that you’ve spent your whole life thinking about but have never actually been asked except now you are being asked and you really don’t know what to say except just stand there and then the bell rings and thank god for the fucking bell.

“oh, well, we should probably head back.” jackie says before natalie has to chance to interrupt. “hope you enjoyed your personalized tour from yours truly.” she smirks, trying to bring the humor back into the situation.” and she knows that natalie knows she’s uncomfortable, but she also knows that natalie isn’t going to bring it up, so she laughs at jackie’s joke instead. and if getting embarrassed sucked, jackie decided getting pitied sucked even worse. 

by the time lunch rolls around, word of the new girl has spread. while jackie has heard a few of the guys calling her hot - which jackie does not like - the main things she’s hearing are ‘burnout’ and ‘druggie.’ which, jackie, also doesn’t like.

“so,” shauna says. “you friends with the new girl or something?” she asks jackie. the two girls were currently at the school cafeteria, hanging with a few of their friends. shauna was currently scribbling whatever the fuck it is she scribbles in her diary (“it’s a journal jackie” “same difference”), and jackie was picking at her food, slightly zoned out until the other girl snapped her out of her trance. “uh, no.” jackie says. “i was just assigned to show her around. she’s chill but i wouldn’t really say we’re friends.”

and ironically, despite that being true given the fact that are not friends, it still feels like the wrong thing to say. any answer feels like the wrong thing to say.

shauna raises her eyebrows. “you know, that might break the record for the shortest sentence you’ve ever said.” jackie just laughs unironically, like the type of laugh you make when someone says something too offensive to be considered funny but not offensive enough to make a scene about it. “yeah, sorry, i’m just tired.” jackie offered, to which shauna just lets out a little hum as to say ‘okay.’

jackie keeps picking at her food, her leg shaking underneath the table. it was one of her nervous habits she picked up as a kid, something she always did whenever something or someone felt off. and shauna definitely felt off right now.

jackie purses her lips together. “hey, um, shauna, can i talk you about something?” she asks. shauna barely looks up from her journal, and when she finally does, it’s too late cause jackie feels an arm wrap around her side and a low, male voice saying “hey babe” right in her direction.

jeff and his friends typically hung around jackie and shauna, and even though jackie knew her best friend wasn’t too fond of the ‘fuck ass bro dues’ (shauna’s words, not jackie’s), she tolerated them. they weren’t all that bad, jackie had told her.

jeff sadecki was the quarterback of the football team. if this was a high school movie, he’d be the popular boy that all of the girls wanted. the love interest who swoops in at the end of the day to save the protagonist. and while this most definitely isn’t a movie - if it was, jackie wouldn’t be taking a calculus test next period - jackie likes to think of jeff as her movie love interest. the edward to her vivian, the josh to her cher, the harry to her sally. he was, like, basically perfect. well, besides the fact that she had to fake an orgasm because she didn’t want to be late for school and he was taking too long. but that’s beside the point.

besides, it wasn’t even like they were doing the real thing. he was just fingering her, it wasn’t like his dick was up her vagina or anything (even thinking about those two words in the same sentence makes jackie feel weird). maybe he’s just bad with his fingers. maybe that’s normal. jackie wouldn’t know, because it’s not like she’s ever done anything with anyone else. she’s waiting. her and jeff both are. which is what makes it so special, cause yeah, maybe he’s shit at pleasuring her, but she’d probably be just as shit, because they both have no experience. but they’ll learn. together. jackie thinks it’s romantic, the whole being-each-other’s-first thing. shauna doesn’t really get it, but how could she? she’s never fallen in love before. and that’s totally what she had with jeff. love.

(okay, so technically, one could say jackie did not in fact, love jeff, given that just this morning he told her he loved her and she, well, didn’t exactly say it back. but in her defense, she was just scared, okay? of course she loves him. that doesn’t mean anything….right?)

sometimes, love is hard. and messy. and complicated. and other times, love is a boy who smells more like a sweaty dog than an actual civilized human being kissing you in the middle of the school cafeteria right after taking a bite of meat loaf. and it was a big bite.

“hey, shauna.” jeff nods towards the brunette, who just awkwardly nods back. 

“okay, so” jackie said, looking between everyone at the table. “you guys all set to come to my party tonight?” the boys all nodded simultaneously, because who doesn’t want to get drunk at a rich girl’s house on a school night? a couple of them making jokes about all the girls they wanted to get with. one of their girls flipped off a couple of the guys, and everyone burst into laughter.

“what? you didn’t tell me you were having a party?” shauna cocks her head to the side, and jackie is positive in that moment that shauna must be having some form of memory loss because of course she would have told shauna. duh.

“um, yes i did? yesterday. when we were on the phone. when i called you.” jackie says, as if it’s obvious.

“jackie you didn’t call me yesterday.” shauna says, and jackie ignores how the rest of the group quiets.

“okay, well, then it was the day before. i don’t know, shipman. but i told you. i always tell you.” shauna hesitates, but then nods, and jackie lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “yeah, i probably just forgot.” shauna says, and jackie thinks to herself how she’s never been more grateful that shauna lets things go easily.

“come over to mine after school to get ready? please?” and jackie thinks that shauna’s probably going to say something stupid about how her parents wouldn’t let her or that she has to study even though she’s like, the smartest fucking person in the entire state of new jersey, but shauna just nods and smiles and jackie leans over the table to give her a hug because her and shauna rarely hug anymore and shauna rarely smiles at her anymore but here she is doing both of those things and that makes jackie smile too.

and in that moment, jackie decides that everything’s going to be okay.  she’ll tell jeff she loves him. she’ll figure things out with shauna. 

and as another kid yells ‘slut’ across the cafeteria in natalie’s direction, jackie decided that she’s going to figure things out with her, too.

“natalie!” jackie yells at the room, to which the blonde turns around from her table. she’s sitting with a few of the other burnt-out, drug-addicted kids, and her makeup is a little smudged which honestly adds to the whole grunge effect. jackie wonders if she did that on purpose. she motions for natalie to come over, which she does, that same smirk from before still plastered on her face - which, jackie’s gotta say, is really impressive cause if some guy publicly degraded her across the room like that she would not be smiling.

“come to my party tonight. my house.” she scribbles her address onto a posted note and hands it to natalie. “everyone’s going to be there.” 

“is there going to be booze?” natalie asks, with a subtle teasing tone, and jackie can’t tell if she’s alluding to the rather obvious fact she’s probably involved in alcohol or whatever, or because jackie looks too perfect and innocent to have ever touched a bottle of liquor.

“guess you’ll have to come and find out.” jackie smiles playfully, and if jeff and shauna and all of her friends are looking at her funny, because why the hell did jackie taylor of all people just publicly invite the new kid to her party, jackie wouldn’t have even noticed. she was too focused on the way natalie smiles at her right back.

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for telling my brothers that their dad is dying?

TW for child abuse, death, and cancer.

I have a lot of siblings, but the only two I talk to anymore are two of my half brothers (R and K. R is 13 and K is 19, I am 26). They share the same dad, while the rest of my siblings either share my dad or were adopted by my dad. The three of us share the same mom while the rest of my siblings do not. This is semi important information (it might not be but it seemed relevant).

Growing up, their dad abused the three of us and our mom. He was a chain smoker and an alcoholic who would hit us, throw things at us, scream at us, chase us, stolen from us, and he's been sexually inappropriate with me on a few occasions. So needless to say, I dislike this man a lot.

I was talking to my mom today about her financial issues. Their dad (T) was not paying her child support. I asked why and she said that T works a summer job, he doesn't get paid in the off season. I said "well, why doesn't he just get another job? He's qualified for quite a bit and he's still young enough" and my mom said "it won't matter since he's not gonna be around for much longer". That threw me off guard, and I asked her what that meant and she told me he had lung cancer. It's inoperable and the doctors said it's bad enough to where he could go from stage 1 to stage 5 in a matter of weeks. That's all the information she told me, I don't know anything more than that about it.

She told me that he hasn't been seeing the boys at all lately. He's just stopped spending time with them. She told me he hasn't told them about it, and that he told her not to tell them either.

Now I'm sitting here thinking that, they deserve to be told that their dad is literally dying? And could be dead any day now? Especially since he's denying them the opportunity to spend time with him before he goes. He's a piece of shit, but they love him and they did everything they could to let him have a second chance at being their dad. And I feel like he's wasting it on feeling bad for himself, instead of showing the boys that he actually like, cares about and loves them if he even does.

Im considering giving her an ultimatum, that one of the OTHER adults in this situation needs to be the one to tell them because they deserve to know, K is especially old enough to understand what's going on. Or I'm gonna do it for her. If she wants to force their dad to tell them, fine. If she wants to tell them herself, fine. But if neither of them do it, I want to tell them. Because I would want someone to tell me if my dad was dying. My dad abandoned me for 18 years but after I met him, I still loved him, even if he was an asshole a lot of the time. I would want someone to tell me.

But part of me still feels like this... Isn't my place to say. That it's not my fight to be putting into, that I shouldn't be the one to tell them. It's not my battle. But it's still my family. A family I care deeply about. And I'm just especially worried about K.

So WIBTA if I told them their dad is dying?

What are these acronyms?

[rookie-lou]

Cars AU (humanized) Let’s call it: “Can’t Say Goodbye“

(TW, death, only temporary though)

Imagine a mix of Back to the Future and Cars. (With Back to the Future logic)

Lightning has been in Radiator Springs for a few years. Doc is the most important person to him and he can't imagine life without him.

He breaks down when Doc tells him after a doctor's visit that he only has a few months to live. Lung cancer. He was a heavy smoker. Lightning had always told him how bad it was that Doc didn't even try to quit. Doc always said he was too old. It's already too late. The doctor said for his case the smoking did affect his lungs.

Doc dies and that day a part of Lightning dies too. Lightning is at Doc‘s bedside during his last breath, holding his mentor’s hand.

Doc wrote him a letter shortly before he died. He gave him a record with a song.

Lightning can't bear it. Days go by and he isn't able to live at all.

He goes into Doc's garage and sees the Hornet they never drove. He cries and holds the letter to his chest while sitting in the car. He finds a small note in the envelope that he hadn't seen before.

"If anyone can persuade me, it's you. Smokey couldn't." There are instructions on the back. Hornet is a time machine that Doc had finished building to travel back in time and to prevent his accident. He had spent his whole life building it until Lightning came into his life. He finished it but he never used it. He didn't have to use it anymore. Lightning had completed his life.

Lightning doesn't believe it at first but then takes a ride with Hornet. The date from a few days before Doc's accident is saved in the car. Doc had saved it there.

Lightning goes back in time and can hardly believe it. Since he is still in Radiator Springs, he sees the old Radiator Springs in its heyday, Sheriff, and a few of the others who don't recognize him of course.

He sets off for Thomasville and arrives on the day of the accident. He is shocked to see Doc and Smokey young and he can't even show himself. He gets emotional as he sees his mentor alive.

He manages to prevent the accident from happening, and immediately drives back to the present so as not to be recognized but everything is different.

Doc never came to Radiator Springs. He became more famous and drove with Strip Weathers. There was no tiebreaker race because Lightning never became a racer in the big leagues. Small things had a big impact and he never came to RS, never met Sally or Mater or the others.

He's lonely.

He watches Doc‘s letter disappear in his hands.

He doesn't know what to do but then decides to travel back in time and sabotage the race. He didn't do it on purpose but it was too much. He watches his mentor die again.

He travels back again and has to be careful because he exists three times now. He manages it and Doc has the accident like he had in the normal story. Lightning stays in Thomasville, befriends Doc as he has to watch his mentor, who is exactly the same age as him, fight his way back to life after the accident. It’s hard to see that.

Doc started smoking after his accident. Now it’s Lightning’s mission to stop him and show him what’s really important, without preventing him from ever escaping to Radiator Springs.

Note: To be honest, I kind of feel like writing that, but I always said Doc never dies in my stories. It would have a happy ending though, so technically…

But I think it would destroy me if I wrote this story.

I’m also not good with time travel stuff. Like, if Doc in that one timeline never built the time machine… wouldn’t it disappear too and Lightning can’t go back again? Or am I now completely wrong, lol.

Also, Doc - Doc, Monty - Marty, McQueen - McFly.

Put Marty in a red suit and I’m convinced it’s McQueen.

Also, tell me what you think.

[napsfork-brainrot]

GIVE ME EVERYTHING ABOUT YOUR SILLY LBB OC GRRRR

Also here's some arts

OHHH I LOVE THEM RAAAAGHHHH!!!!!!!! I'D LOVE TO SHARE MORE ABOUT ITZY!!!!!

but TW: there is child a**se, implied sexual a**se, eating disorders, and overall bad family dynamics

aside from that, please enjoy my lil biker girl!!

Itzy Bonnet was considered the odd one in her house when she was growing up, but that was quite ironic considering who she lived with. A neglectful whore of a mother and a grandfather who would get too handsy.

Itzy's mother, Ida Bonnet, was a smoker who cared more about her finances and her sex life than her daughter. Despite neglecting her daughter and even letting her grandfather do things to her, Itzy still to this day believes that her mother did actually love her. Even though her mother and grandfather had both caused her to develop bulimia from a young age, she still believed her family did love her despite all of the harm they were causing her.

Of course, growing up in such an environment and being denied any actual help caused her to grow up to be very dependent on other people and struggle to ask for things, whether they were wants or needs. Ida eventually got to the point where she kicked Itzy out a few weeks before her 19th birthday, claiming that she was "a big girl now" and "can't rely on mommy anymore."

With no education (due to being homeschooled up until 8th grade but never actually finishing school) and no work experience, Itzy had to just wander around town for the most part. She lived off of scraps and whatever food people would give her, but she would feel too guilty and usually purge whatever she ate. She would find shelter in many alleyways or dumpsters in the city.

In @spoonsilverwire and I's sort of lore, we've established that her OC would find Itzy and basically "take her in." (Moreso kidnapped into the gang, but Itzy is pretty cool with it aside from having to be taught how to ride and being forced into actually eating and taking some better care of herself.)

NOW WITH THE BAD STUFF OUTTA THE WAYYYY..... HERES SOME FACTOIDS 🤓☝️

Itzy is a natural light blonde, much like Dice and Jatay.

Despite claiming to be "tough", she's absolutely not. She tries her hardest, but... ehh, she still needs a lot of training.

She likes everyone in the group, surprisingly enough, but her favorite to least favorite is (excluding other OCs): Jeff, Varai, Jatay, and then Dice.

Varai and Itzy are age regressor besties. However, Itzy is more of a sleepy regressor than Varai is.

Itzy can be a crybaby at times, but usually only when it comes to being picked on by other gang members. If it's another gang or just some random person, she takes it in stride and will usually give some sort of snarky remark or comment.

Do NOT tickle her, it is like fucking KRYPTONITE. She will be floored from a simple poke on her sides.

But that's all I have right now, and THANK YOU FOR SHOWING INTEREST TEEHEHEHEEHEHEE BYE :3c

[alexina-bucket]

Tw: mentions of smoking, abuse, rape, and a lot of bad family stuff under the cut!

Im attempting to draw timekeeper/432's past, but for now while my drawing motivation is gone take me yapping about it (also partially trying not to upset myself)

Timekeeper used to be 432 and his name was Ash Brewer (shout out to my mom for helping me with his name, she balls) and he came from a troubled past, to say the least.. Ash is also trans, he's non binary but goes by he/they (after he became timekeeper, they don't mind he/they/it either) but for now im focusing on ash.

From a young age his family was abusive and treated him badly, both his parents were heavy smokers and they did not want him. They were homophobic and transphobic, so this didn't help his case.

From (if I remember my own information right, I need to start keeping little character files) the age of 5-13 he was abused by his parents, mostly used as an ashtray by his mom. He looked the most like his dad and his mom also didn't like this. She was white and pale with pin straight hair, while Dad was Hispanic, tan, curly hair. Ash had vitiligo, which his mother also hated.

He has scars along his shoulders mostly from the cigarette burns his mom caused, his dad did a lot less to him physically. His had has anger issues and would easily snap at him and his mom, each time he'd just go out for a smoke after and disappear for hours on end.

His dad would often try to persuade or ask ash to smoke with him (which he declined every time). Ash also got raped by his uncle (I keep forgetting the age I made him when this happened kill me) so I'm gonna say at 11...

He also has a brother that was the favorite golden child, he got good grades, was smart, never got detention, yada yada. This is also a reason he was treated so badly.

Because of all this he has trauma and has a lot of issues. Bringing up smoking or cigarettes and things like that can bring up a trigger for him (sometimes leading to panic attacks) and he is also touch starved but at the same time scared of people. He gets very confused with touch, and in an au where he is able to interact with Stanley any sudden touches or movements from Stanley causes him to get frightened but he also wants to lean into the touch he craves.

He moved out of his house when he was 18, he got a job after school /night shifts so he could afford it. A little while later he joined the office (that would later be the parable), got top surgery, and a couple years later narrator deleted everyone (except for ash who failed) and started the story.

Anyways this is my child, I love him dearly and I traumated him ❤️

[dawn-likes-cigarettes]

{Dawn Wilson Information}

My name is Dawn Wilson. I’m 18 years old and I’ve lived in Tulsa, Oklahoma my whole life. I’m a drug addict, which I wish I could change but I can’t help it… I occasionally drink and I live with my brother with his wife and kid.

OOC: GOT INSPIRATION FROM @s0dap0p-curt1s :3 I made this for fun to have more information lol 🐭1. {Basics} 2. {Appearance} 3. {Personality} 4. {Relationships} 5. {Interests} 6. {Background} 7. {RP information}

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

☆Full name: Dawn Holly Wilson ⁃ {Nicknames} ⁃ Dusk; it’s the opposite of Dawn lol ⁃ Hollandaise sauce; her middle name ⁃ Kid; cause of her height ⁃ Little sis; by Austin ⁃ Pretty little grease; by male socs ⁃ Whore/slut/hoe; by female socs ⁃ Drunk/smoker; by little kids that have terrible parents (cause they don’t pay attention to their kids) ☆Age: 18 years old ⁃ {Birthday}: June 5, 1949 ⁃ {Zodiac}: Gemini ☆Gender: Cis Female ⁃ {Species}: Drug addicted human

☆Sexual Orientation: Lesbian ☆Nationality: American, German background ☆Ethnicity: American German ☆Hometown: Tulsa, Oklahoma: North side

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

☆Occupation: Waitress; does not pay well so her brother gives her money

☆Religion: unreligious; parents are Jewish-Germans ☆Languages: ⁃ English ⁃ Some German, but barely

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

☆Height: 5’4” ☆Weight: 95 lbs ☆Body type: petite, curvy

☆Skin: ⁃ {Texture}: soft, a little dirty ⁃ {Tone}: tan ☆Hair: ⁃ {Color}: golden blond ⁃ {Length}: middle-back length ⁃ {Style}: always down but swept to the side

☆Eyes: ⁃ {Shape}: Doe ⁃ {Color}: light light blue ☆Scars: ⁃ Not a lot of scars ⁃ Practically scratches now ⁃ Cigarette burns on her thighs ☆Piercings: two piercings each on both ears ☆Accessories: ⁃ bracelets ⁃ Rag outside her back pocket ⁃ Usually wears a headband when she’s feeling pretty 😋

☆Clothing style: Dirty (dirt and grease dirty) casual

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

☆No drugs personality: ⁃ mean, quiet, compulsive liar, a bitch, cranky, hateful, stubborn, isn’t toxic or abusive, dramatic, suicidal ☆With drugs personality: ⁃ nice, loud, childish, still a bitch but a bad bitch, stubborn, happy, positive, dramatic

☆Positive traits: street smart and positive ☆Negative traits: stubborn, forgetful, and cranky, suicidal

☆*:.���. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

☆Habits: ⁃ Extremely hard drug user ⁃ Constantly getting hurt physically ⁃ Very addictive smoker ⁃ {tw; self harm} Cutting self ☆Pet Peeves: ⁃ extremely rude ⁃ Toxic relationships ⁃ Ignorance

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

☆Usual first impression: ⁃ nasty drunk but is actually a smoker ⁃ Mean and carefree ⁃ Disrespectful ☆Fears: ⁃ fear of losing family ⁃ fear of boredom ⁃ fear of old men ⁃ fear of dying too young ⁃ fear of being forgotten (OOC: same)

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

☆Mother: Martha A. James ☆Father: Unknown

☆Siblings: ⁃ {Brother}: Austin K. Wilson ⁃ {Sister-in-Law}: Jazzlynn K. Wilson ☆Niece: ⁃ Marygold E. Wilson

☆Grandparents: ⁃ Thomas F. James ⁃ Cleo H. James

☆Friends: ⁃ Ponyboy Curtis (only met once and now Pony thinks they’re best friends. Wtf bruh)

☆Lover: ⁃ no one yet, does have a crush on a girl named Callie Collidge (eh eh, see the reference hehe)

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

☆Likes: ⁃ smoking ⁃ Teasing ⁃ Cookies ⁃ Flowers ⁃ Self control (but she herself cannot do that…) ⁃ Parties ⁃ Compliments ☆Dislikes: ⁃ Quiet rooms ⁃ Leprechauns (Staar…) ⁃ Calming environments ⁃ Reading ⁃ Church (it’s boring to her since she’s not religious)

☆Hobbies: ⁃ {Music}: Rock, Metal, loud, head-banging music ⁃ Shoplifting ⁃ Pretending to be a cowgirl ⁃ Smoking ⁃ Dancing aggressively

☆Talents: ⁃ can surprising make extremely good food ⁃ Being a bad bitch ⁃ Can get high and after 2 hours, is back to normal

☆Skills: ⁃ Fights ⁃ Shoplifting ⁃ Flirting ⁃ Getting burned and not caring; high pain tolerance

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

☆Favorite people: ⁃ Austin Wilson ⁃ Jazzlynn Wilson ⁃ Marygold Wilson ⁃ Jibril Wa’el (thinks of him kinda like a father figure :3) ⁃ Staar (only cause they are a hilarious duo) ☆Least favorite people: ⁃ Launcey Williams (only cause she’s kinda rude) ⁃ Dallas Winston (he’s annoying) ⁃ Curly Shepard (same as Dally) ⁃ Tim Shepard (he’s like an old man)

☆Tolerable people: ⁃ Angela Shepard (she’s okay just judgmental towards EVERYTHING) ⁃ Johnny Cade ⁃ TwoBit Mathews ⁃ Steve Randle

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

☆Background: ⁃ {childhood}: ⁃ She was constantly bullied for being fatherless. ⁃ Of course Austin was a butthead as a kid as well, being 16 when she was 6. ⁃ Their mother was a drunk and constantly had panic attacks. ⁃ {most of teenage life} ⁃ Same bullying but their mother went into a coma, leaving Austin as the “parent” of the house. ☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

☆RP Information: ⁃ {is it open?} ⁃ Yes!! It’s always open!! ⁃ {what am I comfortable?} ⁃ I am comfortable with nsfw, sfw, agere, petre, anything as long as it’s not pedo, rape, or anything like that. (I also do angst.)

OOC: Hello it’s @i-like-ratsssss !!!! Hope this give enough information, it definitely did for me so I can go back to this and see what to tell people 😭

[fletcher-braley]

Fletcher Braley He/Him. Cis Man. Thirty Two.

full name: Fletcher Owen Braley nicknames: Fletch birthday: Twenty Third of March, 1992 current residence: Bighorn Hills time in providence peak: about 5 years 5 months - arrived October 2018 sexuality: Bisexual occupation: Bartender at Crane Bros Distillery face claim: Logan Lerman

positive traits: observant, intuitive, down-to-earth, amicable, supportive, compassionate negative traits: passive, melancholic, indulgent, compulsive, insecure, pushover

— HOBBIES

reading comics - fletcher doesn’t have a favorite superhero or anything of the sort, it was just how he passed time before he made his friends in Philly. If he finds any now, he still loves to indulge on the colorful pictures and art-based storytelling. hiking - the woods and mountains always feel like home, and that’s probably because when he was out there, he felt unseen by society. the only people who mattered were the friends he was with. jogging - it’s a calm activity to do that helps him to blow off steam when he is particularly stressed. cooking - this goes back to him learning from his mother, who he was close with. he loved cooking with her, and that love for the activity lives on to this day. he isn’t gordon ramsey level by far, but he can whip something decent together on a whim.

— FAVORITES

food - scrambled eggs with tobasco and breakfast potatoes drink - tito’s & cranberry juice (alcoholic) & sweet tea pink lemonade (nonalcoholic) movie - the never ending story song - all these things i’ve done by the killers color - forest green

— HABITS

social smoker after a few drinks [cigarettes] / likes a good weekend bender [alcohol] / occasional consumption of anything that comes from the earth [drugs] nervous ticks include chewing on his bottom lip, wrinkling his nose, and shifting from foot to foot, subtle stutter if he’s nervous

— PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

height : 5′9" tattoos : n/A scars : small one on the left side of his chin from stitches, surgical scar in his right wrist from surgery after a nasty break piercings : n/A hair : dark brown with a wave, if it gets long enough (and it often does because he gets lazy about trimming it) it curls on the ends, around his ears and at the base of his neck

— FASHION

clothes - simple t-shirts, hoodies, long-sleeve baseball tees, sweaters, straight-leg jeans, bomber jackets, jogger sweatpants for lazy days, nothing attention grabbing or flashy, absolutely no tank tops ever shoes - vans or work boots accessories - simple industrial bracelet bought from a tourist shop

— HISTORY

(car accident tw, alcohol mention, drug mention, teenage pregnancy, abortion mention, loveless marriage, unhealthy family dynamics)

Fletcher had been the fourth son born to a couple in Blooming Glen, Pennsylvania. With a seven year gap between Fletcher and the last born boy it led to him being excluded from older activities as well as taunted by the two middle sons just all for the fun of it.

His only solace was his eldest brother who had matured faster than the other two, and his mother. And oh, Fletcher most loved his mother, who was soft and tender and was the only one who would focus on him when he tried to talk at the dinner table. He did his best to linger behind to help clean up after meals and stick by her side because she made him feel known. Every day his father had to come look for him to try and put him to work around the farm.

Now his father wasn't a kind man. Not to him nor to his mother. Never was domestic violence an issue in the household, but even at as young as five years old Fletcher understood an absence of love in their marriage. His mother was a quiet and timid woman so looking back it made sense why she stuck around, but then he'd always wondered and he'd wonder more so when he got the brunt of his father's nasty side brought out by his habitual drinking.

(One of his brother's would say it had been because Fletch had been the son of the milk man. The other would insist he’d been dropped off in a FEDEX package. He never understood either at that age.)

It was when he turned twelve that he decided he was fed up with how things worked in his house. He packed his duffel bag and walked off the farm to never look back, finding a bus stop and taking on to Philadelphia. His father lividly reminded him their house didn’t have a revolving door despite his mother’s pleading to get him to come home. As much as Fletcher missed her, he had no intention of returning ever.

In Philadelphia, Fletcher’s aunt of his had a spare bedroom - his mother had contacted her sister to ensure he had a roof over his head. Fletcher always knew even if it wasn’t said that she was doing her best to keep him taken care of, and he had a good relationship with his aunt anyway. This opportunity granted him the chance to build life in a busier city, immerse himself in public schooling, and to finally seek out his purpose.

Fletcher wasn’t a star student with a low G.P.A., struggling with Cs and Ds (his only A being his phys. ed. class), which left him unqualified to join any after school sports. Instead, he spent most of his time sitting on the floor of a local bookstore reading comic books. Socially withdrawn, it took almost a full school year until he made his first friend that introduced him into a bigger circle.

Fletcher found he adored each and every one of them, hanging onto every detail of the stories they told and admiring the caliber of life they all experienced. Aside from that they also brought adventure into his life in the form of spontaneous late-night drives, getting drunk on hiking trails outside of the city, and eating their weight’s worth in fast food after midnight. It was all simple, but it was more than he got to be involved in while in Blooming Glen.

In that time, Fletcher had also met his high school sweetheart. He may have been only sixteen, but he was sure he found The One. The unraveled around their senior year, when they were both eighteen and a positive pregnancy test brought two very different reactions from them. Fletch, wanting to keep the baby, and his partner wanting freedom in her future. Her decision to go through with a medical abortion clashed with his excitement turned disappointment, and it created an irreparable rift. They didn’t last long after graduation. 

Fletcher aimed for community college, but that lasted about a year before he dropped. He lost his drive and immersed himself in the same late nights filled with drunken antics that he indulged in while in high school. At twenty, he saved up enough money to get a snug studio apartment outside of West Philadelphia. He sought employment at the nearest tavern and started as a dishwasher, then moved up to bartender within the year.

With no goal in mind, Fletcher stuck it out there. It wasn’t until a late night out resulting in a car crash he was involved in that he figured out what he’d want to do. 

Someone ran a red light at an interaction and t-boned the car his friend had been driving. Fortunately there were no fatalities, but the car was a goner and one of his friends in the back seat sustained injuries that required a trip via ambulance to the nearest hospital. Firefighters needed to pry open the door as they had been pinned, and the EMTs rushed around everyone to make sure each and every person involved had been taken care of. Fletcher had nothing but a wrist sprain and bruised ribs, but watching them work inspired him to pursue that field. He wanted to help people.

Volunteering on the local EMT squad confirmed that idea, and then Fletcher began paramedic school. For a few years he managed to keep a job on the rig where he happily pulled long shifts even over holidays. Weekend social outings put a stop to that plan when eventually his irresponsible behavior led him to showing up to paramedic school hungover one too many times, and he was expelled from the training and released from the EMT squad at the age of twenty four after testing positive for marijuana consumption due to the use of it being illegal at that time.

He was back at square one and stuck it out as a bartender. It wasn’t all that fulfilling, but the money was good enough. The restlessness inside of him had to be ignored when responsibility was needed to keep off the streets. Fletcher just found value in his friendships and the experiences shared with them for the time-being.

However, he began to feel stagnant, and in due time Fletcher decided to make a move. Before his thirties, he decided. It would be worth it to experience other parts of the world. First he tried Colorado for a couple years when he was twenty seven, the nature and entire vibe something fun. He’d been there before, visiting a friend, and settling down in Providence Peak had been the perfect opportunity for a fresh start.

— HEADCANONS

✧ Fletcher does know how to ride a horse, and he knows basic homesteading. Very very basic, as he'd been young when he dipped out on the cattle farm. I.e. canning, making dummy pickles, growing a small herb garden over the back of his kitchen sink. ✧ One of his favorite places to visit in Philadelphia was the Mutter Museum. ✧ Fletcher is a very enthusiastic Philadelphia Flyers fan, and he loves Gritty — as can be seen in the various bits of Gritty apparel in his closet, the coffee mug in the cabinet, and the sticker on the back of his car. ✧ Fletcher is allergic to strawberries. ✧ He will only drink Fiji water. No Smart water, no Dasani, no Poland Springs or Deer Park. None of it. He wants Fiji. ✧ He's terrified of spider crickets (or camel crickets, whichever is the name you know them by). ✧ Once he moved out to Providence Peak, he sold the compact car he arrived in to replace it with 1990 Toyota Land Cruiser for, you know, woodsy things. And he liked the old vibe of it being an upkept, thirty year old vehicle. That being said, the hood doesn't match the rest of the car in color, and it isn't great in terms of gas mileage, but hey. ✧ He has a three year old German Shepherd mix named Boone that he lets roam the property of the cabin he lives in. Being he chose one closer to the hiking trails, it is more secluded, and he figured a dog for protection would be wise.

— CONNECTIONS

I am down for most connects. Fletcher can use any friends from the last five-six years he has been in this town, and as much as I think the boy can't have a malicious bone in his body, I am down for any negative connections. I am not looking for any endgame romantic connections at this point, like to work on natural chemistry. I also don’t do any sort of pregnancy plots - scares, accidental, etc. - on a whim. For anyone looking for messy, he might not be your boy, but we can see what we work out.

Loose ideas for connections:

- Any new friends he's met over the years since he's moved to Providence Peak. - Neighbors in Bighorn Hills. - Someone Fletcher simply tolerates - whatever has caused disdain between the two would be talked out. (1/1) ** taken by @foster-notmatty - Almost maybe in terms of dating. Maybe he'd met someone, and it teetered close to something but ended up being nothing. this is not an end game scenario in the works (1/1) **taken by @deanchaiyachet - The one off hook-up. Limited spaces for this as he is more of a commitment guy, sleeping around isn't something he aims to do. I'd say (0/2). - Regular patrons to the distillery he works at, the sort he knows all the fun background details to as those who drink tend to talk. A lot.

— CURRENT CONNECTIONS

♡ @reggiefalvey - friend met by chance in reggie's travels, now current roommates in bighorn hills. reggie is a breath of fresh air, and a constant reminder to fletch that sometimes he needs to just live. aside from the ever running tap contributing to the growing water bill, and all the bruises he's gotten walking into cabinet doors left open, reggie's been a welcomed addition to his home. ♡ @sagefranklin - tbd. ♡ @estherclements - met through reggie, current friends and a fellow experimental cook in the kitchen. ♡ @theaxharris - met through his patronage at holy spirits, built a repertoire. ♡ @dylan-westwick - fellow nature lover, hiking buddies, and adventurers of the Colorado wilds. fletch adores the twins just as much, and he likes to steal her away for the usual activities as much as time permits. ♡ @dilanxbarak - met her through a dog park, though he learned her dog's name first (woops), and makes time for doggie playdates around town and on the hiking trails. ♡ @emelinecormier - what started as simply bumming and wagering pool bets for a cigarette outside the various bars in providence has turned into emeline being one of the first people fletch sends a text out to if he's wanting to go out for a few drinks. ♡ @rachelhargrove - boone menaced walter as a puppy, and now fletch enjoys bringing (a much larger) boone back around so he can chat with rachel and be a fellow proud dog parent with her. ♡ @foster-notmatty - kinda sorta ran in the same circles in philadelphia, but didn't necessarily get along. it wasn't that they hated one another, they just rubbed one another the wrong way. so fletch simply tolerates foster. ♡ @cynthiafalvey - it's less about the fact they shared a kiss and more about all the little moments that built up to it happening. more the, the fact that after it happened, it's seemingly been swept under the rug. fletch doesn't know where he stands with cynthia at this point, and it isn't like he's hopelessly wishing for something to come out of it, but he just wants the weird dance they do to end so they can be back to normal.

— LINKS

pinterest: [ link ] soundtrack: [ link ] personal playlist: [ link ] inspo tag: [ link ]

[pipsterz]

Lux's experience within a marine office.

A OP OC fic.

TW! Body Dysmorphia.

Khari Mane, one of the prestigious ladies of the Kholodian upper classes, reduced to an office worker. She let out a warm, irritated sigh before pressing a callous palm to her face. With a gentle push from her foot, she began to rock her chair to and fro on its back legs. Shifting through piles of bland and repetitive paperwork. "New pirates" being pushed to one side of the desk where she would proceed to ignore them until told to do otherwise, "Nuisance pirates" being sorted into the second pile where she would have to do her research into them for future assignments. Couldn't be too careful after all, especially considering she didn't grow up anywhere near the four oceans.

And finally, "Old pirates", the pile that remained untouched for close to a year since she'd been assigned to paperwork. With an interaction with Baroque Works putting her out of action for a short while, this was the only way Smoker would have her working despite many protests from the younger marine. The pile consisted of exactly what a marine was to expect, Edward Newgate, Charlotte Linlin, Kaido and finally, Shanks. It was a pile she wished to shred, but still had to organise every now and then.

Khari then placed her feet down, letting her chair return to the placement it had before she started swinging on it. She rose, shifted her shirt to get it comfortable, fixing her tie, trying to keep it straight to the best of her ability. As she turned towards the window, her gaze caught at her own reflection in the mirror. Her eyes uncomfortably the wrong colour, his colour. Trying to ignore the obvious ploy by her mind she turned towards the window, forcing open the door piece to let in some fresh air. That's just what she needed.. air. The feeling of being stuck in an office was suffocating, and not just because of the smoke her flames created. The feeling of knowing she wasn't helping as much as she could was just— a small reassuring click as she took out her lighter, clutching a cigarette from her pocket, before raising it and taking a drag from it. It was a bad habit, god, Harley would yell at her for it later.. but she needed it.

That's right, Harley, she would be putting the kids down for a nap about now, Khari was so lucky to have her.. sure she may be a bit of a loudmouth and a drinker but she was soft with the kids when she needed to. Alongside being the person keeping Khari from taking her children into a battle torn workplace. Maybe once Khari had finished her deployment she could see Harley.

Leaning against the wall near the window, Khari once again found herself gazing towards the mirror in the office. In her reflection, leaning against the wall was not her, but her father. His smug grin with a cigarette pressed to his lips in the exact same position Khari was resting in, she shook her head mumbling to herself a soft reassurance of:

'He's not here, you're Lux, you're not a Mane here..'

With a soft jingle of the bracelet resting on her right hand, she was brought back to reality, the mirror reflecting truly. A nervous child, pushed into a military background too young, with a pair of hands resting reassuringly on her shoulders. Khari immediately turned, swinging towards the figure her mind so constantly taunted her with, resulting in a crack in the wall, a few stains of blood now marking the spot on the wall as Khari's attention then shifted to the numb yet odd sensation of blood dripping from her knuckles. After burning her pain receptors away when she was a child, Khari struggled with injuries, underestimating their risk or permanent repercussions to her injuries.

'He's not... Not here Lux, calm down, you're acting irrationality..'

She let out a soft sigh, pressing herself to the wall in an attempt to calm herself, before her mind began to replay comments from him, over and over and over.. until she turned to face the mirror.

In a rage-stricken state, Khari found herself gazing dead into the eyes of her father, freezing up, it was almost as if he was standing right in front of her. No, that was what Khari saw, to her.. he was really there. His smug grin changing to a calm and demeaning glare, followed by the words that had haunted her since she joined the marines..

'No daughter of mine would insult her pride as much as to lose to her own father while proving a point,'

'You are no daughter of mine,'

Then she blacked out, her body acting without any thought, out of pure unbridled fury, leaving her to swing, yell, sob. She let out a roar of Kholodian insults towards the reflective father, before the sound of glass crashing alerted the other marines nearby.

And the only thing they saw upon entering the office was a sobbing Khari, mumbling in a language they could not understand, surrounded by shards of glass and a mirror obviously having being shattered due to brute force.

There she sat, sobbing, like an unprotected child, a cigarette pressed into her hand while glass and blood fell from her palm. She was so scared, yet she found no one to ease this pain. She truly was, just what she feared to be, her father's daughter.

[mericalovesss]

18+ audience only - tw(s): cigarette smoking / non - smoker influenced to start, blasphemy, & organized religion - edited by: Bazzle

|”Yes. You would be sharing a secret that is not your own. To abstain would be more holy than to tell him. Now, if you find my habit disgusting enough that you would like to leave…”

“No! That’s… not what I mean. I don’t want to leave. That’s why I won’t be telling him.”

“And?”

“…because it would be gossip, Father.”|

.little blurb. His virtuous devotion to guide lost souls to righteousness is deferred upon meeting a young woman being sheltered to her detriment, opening his heart to the most selfish and carnal sins.

.author’s note.

full story “finished” and posted to literotica almost exactly a year ago (august 30, 2023). i will be uploading parts / chapters in small dumps of 3 or 4 at a time with there being 14 in all, including an epilogue. changes and tiding up will be done as I go, so the final version on wattpad will be an updated cleaner one (fingers crossed) comments / feedback on either site, or even in private messages, would be so so greatly appreciated.

thanks and i hope you enjoy!

~<3 sisi

[alexa4devilsxo]

name: Ruby Batista age: thirty-three birthday: august 11, 1988 gender & pronouns: cis-female & she/her orientation: heterosexual relationship status: single hometown: Tonopah Valley neighborhood: downtown

occupation: ATF Special Agent affiliation: la asociación for los santos

Quick Intro: tw: gambling, corruption, alcohol abuse,

Ruby grew up with a single father who was always drinking and gambling their money away. Her mother left because she wanted a life that was better - richer and more pizzazz, which Ruby's dad simply could not offer.

To stay alive herself, she started working odd jobs from a young age. Super markets, petrol stations - anywhere where they would take in a child because she needed things for school, to put food on the table and clothes.

When she was fifteen, she came home to find her father murdered brutally - his throat had been slit and thought the same people who killed him were going to come for her.

Ruby fought new intruders only to be taken in by Camilo - a man not responsible for her father's death but one who promised her he will help her get her revenge.

Camilo taught her how to fight, how to shoot, and how to be clever in life. Between they decided she was going to become an AFT agent so that she could help Los Santos, thus becoming an associate for them.

Trained tough and hard to get to where she is now. She obtained bachelors, took physical, mental tests and polygraphs in order to get into the system. Thus, becoming a mastermind in manipulation.

Finally, was stationed back in Tonopah Valley. While elsewhere - she simply gave information about trackings and movements of different agents and different roads. Now, she's able to give heads up to raids, etc.

Headcanons:

Is an avid chain smoker

Has a Doberman named Prince of Hell , Prince for short

She is very good at manipulating who she needs to be - in appearance and mannerisms

Can speak Korean, English and Spanish fluently

Has tattoo’s but not in places people could easily notice

[y3joon-png]

1950-1953 : The Rifle Between Us

Heyaaa, here i come 2 days later as always with the 2nd chapter of this fanfic!! Before you read i would like to warn abouth a few things : TW : death, blood, r@pe !! Now that you guys are warned, i hope you will enjoy the chapter which was really a huge amouth of work for me lmao. I promise i tried my best to make evrything feel powerful but not too graphic so i wouldn't traumatize anyone. Anyway, enjoy kiss kiss <3

Chapter II 

June 25th, 1950 - Republic of Korea

This morning, it wasn’t the usual bugle call that woke Jisung up. Instead, it was loud and piercing sirens. Jisung sat up immediately, his breath sharp. The air felt heavier than usual, thick with something he couldn’t name - smoke? Gunpowder?. His hair was messy as he grabbed his rifle and held it tight against him. Before anyone in the dorm got the time to ask what was happening, the officer burst in there.

“You better all be ready in less than 5 minutes you shitty rookies !” he barked. Hajoon, the rookie sleeping next to Jisung, spoke up as he was rubbing his eyes.

“Officer ?” he mumbled. “What’s going on?”

“You ask what is going on…” repeated the officer as he stopped walking. “War is going on.” His tone was cold and harsh. Some gasped, some held their rifles tighter. The officer stopped walking, scanning the room. For a second, no one spoke. Hajoon let out a nervous laugh. 

"Wait, seriously?" The officer’s expression didn’t change.

"What are you waiting for?" He paused, then exhaled through his nose. "War is going on." He repeated harshly, letting the words sink into the young men. Jisung exhaled, trying to stay composed. They had warned them about the possibility that the North might attack soon. Prepared or not, the idea of going to war was still terrifying. Jisung gulped loudly before getting up and starting to get ready. His hands were shaking around the metal of his gun and the damaged fabric of his uniform. He puts on his cap and before leaving the dorm he looks down at his military necklace. He closed his eyes and sighed. Some around him were praying, but the only thing he could think of were his mother and his brother. For a second, as he was running to the outdoor meeting point, Minho crossed his mind. Was he also part of the military ? Was he even still alive ? Those questions had deeply been torturing him to his core. But none of that mattered now. All that mattered was surviving long enough to see another sunrise. Saving the country was only a side quest. 

A few minutes later he was in line, just like the others, waiting for his unit to be assigned their attack plan. His throat felt dry. The repeating sound of the boots hitting the ground as all the other units were leaving the camp one after the other. He squeezed the old pack of cigarettes still in his pocket. Surprisingly, the first thought that came to his mind was : “will i ever get to smoke all of those?”. Jisung wasn’t a heavy smoker, he smoked only a single cigarette in very stressful moments. His only thought was the will of filling his lungs with the smoke before dying.

Jisung soon arrived at the meeting point, he lined in with the other soldiers. His boots were tied too tight, his gun was cold, his eyes were itchy. He gives a quick look to everyone else around. It almost felt as if he was the only one shaking. The general then walked in front of everyone and barked : “Listen up rookies because I won't say this twice : it is now the moment to prove your loyalty to your country. Some troops will stay here to protect Seoul, but a few will be sent directly to the border in direct confrontation.” “Please don’t pick me”. The thought came before Jisung could stop it. He swallowed hard, guilt twisting in his stomach. He had no choice now. He couldn’t afford to be a coward. “This part will be the hardest but also the most important.” A general shiver hit the young soldiers. Jisung felt a cold drop run down his spine. His bottom lip twitched. “All of you need to represent your country against those traitors. Those children rapists. This red Plague needs to be eradicated and you are the only ones who can face it, so you better carry your rifles with honor!” he barked. The general’s voice echoed across the field. No one moved. For a second, Jisung thought he felt the earth itself pause. Then, as if on instinct, he heard his own voice rise with the others:

"General, yes General!"

Suddenly, a hand rested on his shoulder. It was Hajoon’s. Jisung’s body tensed at the contact but he exhaled when he heard his comrade.

“You okay dude?” his voice was low and soft, he wasn’t trembling. Jisung nodded as he faked a smile.

“Yeah no worries I'm just…” he paused, looking for the right words. A single wrong thought could get him out of this world, and he knew it. “I’m just excited to be able to finally get rid of those reds.” Jisung added, the words still felt wrong in his throat. He suppressed another twitch of his bottom lip.

The line barely moved. He could hear the distant rumble of trucks, the murmurs of officers exchanging orders, the occasional bark of a command. His boots felt heavier with every second. Jisung’s throat felt dry, again, but more this time. Too dry. He swallowed, but it barely helped. His pulse drummed in his ears, out of sync with the steady march of departing soldiers. Hajoon’s hand hadn’t left his shoulder. A tight squeeze brought him back to reality.

“We’ll survive…” Hajoon seemed to be murmuring to himself. His calm smile was trying to hide his obvious tension. His blinking was quick, as if he was trying to keep his eyes opened as much as possible. Jisung tried to smile reassuringly. Jisung opened his mouth, then closed it. What else could he say? The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Finally, he forced a smile. 

“We will survive.” He answered, trying to convince himself as much as his comrade. The voice of the officer snapped them out of their fakely-comforting moment.

“Unit 14?” he asked, the rookies nodded. “Front line.” The words echoed in Jisung’s mind. It felt unreal. His nerves told him to laugh but he was completely paralyzed. What could he even do now ? Refuse ? that would get him killed. He swallowed dryly. As his gaze ran towards the bulletproof truck approaching them. He could still run away. Now, turn around and run as fast as possible. He shakes his, brushing away the idea. If he had to die, he would rather die while protecting his country. That is what he tried to convince himself of, but deep down he knew. He didn’t give a damn about this stupid country.

Jisung bit his bottom lip as he got in the truck. The air was thick. Everyone stayed silent. Jisung laid back on his seat and put his cap on his face. Trying to hide himself from the world, or maybe the world from his aching heart. He exhaled softly and a single tear ran down his cheek.

He closed his eyes, men weren’t allowed to cry. He brushed the tear away, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes until he saw stars. His mother’s voice echoed in his head. “Stay safe, Jisung-i”. But safety wasn’t an option anymore. He slowly tried to fall asleep, the drive towards his natal region promised to be long and exhausting.

The truck rattled violently as it sped down the uneven dirt road. Jisung’s hands clenched his rifle so tightly his knuckles turned white. No one spoke. The only sounds were the roaring of engines and the distant thunder of gunfire growing louder with every passing second. Then- impact. The truck screeched to a halt. Shouting. Orders.

“Move, move, move!” Jisung barely registered his feet hitting the ground before a deafening explosion shook the earth. His ears rang. His vision blurred. The acrid stench of gunpowder burned his nose. 

This is war. A soldier beside him collapsed. Jisung turned his head, breath catching - a bullet had torn straight through his skull. His body dropped like a puppet with its strings cut. Blood sprayed onto Jisung’s sleeve. He didn’t have time to think. More shouts.

“Get to cover! Fire back!” Jisung’s body moved on instinct, diving into a muddy trench as bullets ripped through the air. He pressed his back against the dirt, gasping for breath. He couldn’t hear his own heartbeat over the chaos. He forced himself to raise his rifle, his hands trembling as the weapon felt heavier than ever. The enemy was out there. He needed to shoot. But where? At who? A shadow moved in the distance. His finger hovered over the trigger. His breath hitched. “Shoot. Shoot. SHOOT.” His mind was yelling at his own body. His body jerked as his finger finally pulled. The bullet vanished into the haze of war. He didn’t know if it hit anyone. He didn’t want to know. The village was in ruins, he couldn’t even understand where he was. He ran away towards the remaining wall of an old house. There, he sat, holding his rifle tight, close to his heart. His breath was heavy, his heart was pounding in his chest. So hard that Jisung feared it could stop at any time. The sounds of the shots, the boots, the pain screams, the dirt, the orders, the boots again, the explosions, the boots. Each decibel felt like a stab to whatever was left of him. He surprised himself with a soft whisper : “Mom… I’m scared…” he broke into soft sobs like a little boy. However, his emotional moment was soon cut off. A deafening crack. Something sharp whizzed past his ear - then, impact. A bullet slammed into the wall behind him, sending splinters of stone and dust flying into his face. His ears rang, a high-pitched screech that drowned out the chaos. Jisung flinched, pressing himself flat against the ruined wall. His heartbeat felt like it was trying to escape his ribcage. “You’re on the battlefield, not in your bed, dumbass.” he thought harshly to himself. A short moment of silence then hit. Not the comforting kind. Not the kind that meant safety. This was the silence of people waiting, watching. Jisung tried to make his breath quieter. He stood up and exhaled, holding his rifle in front of him. His finger on the trigger felt so unnatural, but he needed it if he ever wanted to get out of there alive. “At the end of the day : it is their life or mine.” The almost selfish thought sat heavy in his skull. Something moved in the distance. His breath hitched. “Now or never.” He raised the rifle and pulled the metal. Bang. The sound of the bullet sinking in someone’s flesh echoed in his mind. He ran to the victim of his own decision.

There he saw a man. No, not a man. A boy. He was wearing a military uniform, now covered in dust and blood. He was laying on his back in the wreckage. His eyes wide opened. Jisung swallowed loudly as he looked down, he could read the words ‘Democratic People’s Republic of Korea’ on the uniform’s tag. His heart suddenly felt less heavy. He had neutralized the enemy. Although, he squatted to the corpse and closed his eyes with two fingers. Jisung sighed and joint his own hands together before whispering : 

“Rest in peace, may the Gods protect you.” His own words felt hypocritical. How could he say that to the boy he had just killed to save his own life ?

He then quickly got up and ran to go give his unit some help. War was raging all around him. The smell of dust and gunpowder mixed with blood made him sick in the stomach. The sounds of the shootings made his head spin but he kept running. He kept shooting. He kept killing.

As the hours kept flowing, the South Korean troops kept losing soldiers. The battle felt like a complete fail. Jisung was out of breath, hiding behind a wall with Hajoon. His feet hurted, his eyes were itchy, his head felt like it was about to explode. All he wanted was to go back home.

As if fallen from the skies, sent by the Gods, a new order came by : “retreat”. Jisung and Hajoon immediately got up and started running away. However, his comrade stopped.

“What is it Hajoon?” Jisung shouted. “Move! Do you want to get killed or what?” He stopped to look at him.

“Jisung, I hear a child crying.” Jisung froze, a child ? He shut himself up and, after a few seconds of dormancy, he finally can hear the distinguished cries of a child. His heart sank. Why was the child still there ? “I’ll go get him.” Added Hajoon, but Jisung immediately stopped him.

“Don’t you dare.” He swallowed dryly. “I’ll go. You have a higher rank than mine, you shall live Hajoon.” Hajoon then nodded and mouthed a single word before leaving : “Stay safe”. Jisung himself couldn’t understand his own decision. Why would he decide to go grab the kid instead of running for his own life? However, he kept running towards the source of the cries. There, he found the kid under a few wreckage. He kneeled next to the little boy.

“Hey there kiddo, can you move?” He asked in the softest tone he could give. The young boy kept screaming and crying his lungs out as he squirmed and shaked his head. Jisung sighed and looked around. After a bit he noticed that the kid’s leg was broken under a big rock. “Do you trust me? I’m going to get you out of there but it might hurt. You’ll have to be very brave.” Jisung smiled at the boy and he grabbed the rock. Suddenly, the sound of shootings resonated at the other end of the street. A middle-aged North Korean soldier kept shooting around, a deep scar cut across his cheek, old but noticeable. “Fuck” Jisung whispered. “Keep quiet, it will be alright.” His reassuring tone actually helped the kid stay quiet. Jisung exhaled and quickly took the rock off the kid’s broken leg. He, in the span of a heartbeat, took the kid in his arm and aimed at the soldier as he was running away. Jisung gave a look at the North Korean, he looked familiar but he brushed the idea and immediately started shooting mindlessly. He was running as fast as he could. When his magazine emptied, he heard the enemy’s body falling to the ground. Jisung sighed in relief and held onto the kid tighter as he ran to the truck. “It’s over” He whispered to the little boy, as if he was reassuring the kid in his arms but also the kid he himself was. As he got the kid into the refugees’ truck the little boy grabbed him closer and whispered.

“Thank you hyung, I’ll pray for you.” Jisung's heart sank. How could a kid want to pray for him, after everything he had done? After the bodies, the bullets, the choices he had made? The boy's fingers clung to his sleeve. But instead of showing his fear he just bowed with a smile, and left to his unit’s. He turned before he could hear the boy’s reply. The truck rumbled forward, dust rising behind it. Jisung kept walking. He didn’t look back.

June 25th, 1950 - Republic of Korea 

The orders had been given. Minho was holding onto his rifle as if it was an extension of his own arm. The sound of the united steps of all the other soldiers walking around him made his heart beat to the strong rhythm. He exhaled and smiled, finally, he could prove his worth as a soldier. And walk on those traitors’ bodies.

As they were considered as some of the most loyal soldiers, Minho’s unit was chosen to be one of the first ones entering South Korea. Minho was incredibly proud of this place and he had promised to honor his superiors’ choice to get him, and his fellow comrades, at the front row of the operation. As such, the bulletproof truck’s atmosphere was way lighter, almost filled with excitement and anticipation. The smell of war filled the air and, surprisingly, it didn’t scare anyone. Minho enjoyed the smell of gunpowder, of gasoline, of dirt, and of metal in his nose. He was ready for war. And, in some way, he almost was expecting to enjoy this.

They soon arrived in the first town. An older unit had already been there. The town was in ruins. The smell of blood and dust filled the air. Some flinched as their boots got to the ground, but Minho didn’t. He immediately lifted his rifle, already looking for enemies, for Southern Pigs to kill. He ran through the ruins, followed by his fellow comrades. Some corpses were on the floor, wearing the southern uniform, or even the northern one. Minho sighed at the view of each northern corpse. He heard behind him, other soldiers spitting or even shooting again some dead southern pigs. He chuckled at the idea, still focusing on his environment. Suddenly he heard a sound. His sharp earring immediately located the source of the sound. Without a single second thought : he shot. His body didn’t flinch at the sound of the body falling to the ground. He walked slowly to it. It was a civilian. His bottom lip twitched. A civilian. One of his comrades walked to him.

“Is there anything wrong dude?” Before Minho could even answer, the second soldier looked down at the corpse. “God, even their looks are disgusting.” Minho laughed softly, but his laughter was cold and indirect. “Disgusting?” He asked himself. “But he looks just like our officer.” Minho sighed and kicked the body. The sole of his tight boots was now covered in blood. As he noticed it he pinched his nose.

“Eurk… Southern pig’s blood…” He mumbled under his breath.

“Don’t be disgusted : just enjoy it man!” His comrade added with a smile as he laid a hand on Minho’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly.

As if this moment was nothing, they just kept heading south. Checking every home, every corpse just to see if any southern soldier or even civilian is still there. The remaining streets to check being still numerous as the sun starts setting they decided to segregate the work equally among the men. Minho chose to check a few huge streets, probably what used to be the main roads. He walks slowly around them, holding his rifle tightly. He moves some wreckage with his blood covered boots, looking for any remaining pig. At the end of a road he turns to the East, entering a new one. A shiver ran down his spine. As if an imaginary sixth sense was warning him something was going to happen. He quickly jogged to the middle of the street. There was a corpse, he was a tall man, wearing a North Korean uniform. Minho swallowed hard and moved his head, looking at his torso filled with dry blood and bullets’ impact. His heart suddenly sank. He hadn’t seen this face in years but he could recognize him in between thousands. His uncle’s body lay stiff, lifeless - but there, across his cheek, was the same scar Minho had seen since childhood. Minho sat on the ground, in the red covered dust, next to the body. His eyes widened.

“What… what… how…” He mumbled under his breath. His voice sounded too small. He had seen corpses all day. Southern pigs, Northern heroes. None of them had made his hands tremble. Suddenly he remembered that his uncle had gotten into the military as soon as Kim Il Sung arrived at the head of state. Minho exhaled softly, calming himself down. He looked around, trying to understand what had happened. He got up and walked around. He soon noticed a few bloody footsteps, as well as a bear plushie. Minho’s eyes lingered on it for a second too long. He swallowed as he kept looking for evidence. He exhaled louder as he looked up to the sky, only to see it burning red. No matter what had happened, the first day of war was a victory. He told himself to only remember his uncle as a brave man who thought and died as a hero. He walked back to the body and joined his hands together. Minho then whispered a prayer and walked away. Victory. That’s what he should be thinking about. Then, he heard it. A shout - no, laughter. Too loud. Too wild. Minho frowned, his grip tightening around his rifle. He followed the noise, boots crunching over rubble. As he turned a corner, the voices became clearer.

“Hold her still.” Minho stopped in his tracks. He turned around scanning the empty street in the, now, dark atmosphere. He walked to a house, one of the only ones standing still. There was a dim light, probably emanating from a few candles, that he could notice through the broken window. He lifted his rifle again, pointing directly at the window. But before he could approach more, a familiar voice echoed from the house. It was one of his comrades.

“I swear those Southern whores really need some discipline!” His comrades shouted. At the sound of the similar voices and laughter, Minho exhaled in relief. He walked to the creaking door and opened it. There he saw some men from his unit. They were all with a woman, trying to undress her. Minho raised an eyebrow in surprise. The others were laughing, murmuring to each other as they pulled at her clothes. Minho sighed and closed the door as he walked quietly to a corner of the room. He stood there, unmoving. One of his comrades nudged him.

“What’s wrong? Never had a woman before?” Minho swallowed. He forced himself to look. Nothing. He expected something - excitement, hunger, the same urge they had. But all he felt was the sweat on the back of his neck and the weight of his own skin. She was screaming, calling for help, but Minho kept his gaze forward. He had been told this would happen. Southern whores, they called them. Spies. Traitors. He had seen the posters - women with sharp knives hidden under their skirts, fake smiles masking their deadly intent. “She’s not innocent”, he told himself. “None of them are.” As the men started to touch her bare body, her trembling skin seemed as if it was aching. Something inside him curled into itself. It wasn’t pity. It wasn’t guilt. It was something else. Something nameless.

As the scene kept unfolding under his eyes he forced himself to watch. His gaze was emotionless. The fire of the candles was overwhelming but he tried to suppress it. As she kept crying, they were laughing, using her and spitting at her. Minho was deeply trying to feel something but he couldn't. Was there something wrong with him? With his mind? WIth his body? Those thoughts kept running around his mind. He tried to laugh with them. It came out wrong, hollow.

“What’s wrong with you?” someone asked, shoving his shoulder. “She’s a Southern whore, have some fun.” Minho forced a grin.

“Not my type.” They laughed. He laughed with them. But something in his chest tightened, and he didn’t know why. After all he was a soldier just like them. Locked up 24/7 with other men, unable to see any woman. He should have some needs, some desires. But none of that was building inside him. Maybe he was a broken man? But broken meant weak. And he couldn’t allow himself to be weak. He sighed loudly, almost trying to suppress his thoughts as much as he was suppressing the sounds of the laughter, the screams and the quiet tears. 

“Please,” she sobbed. “I have a son. I just - I just want to go home.” Minho’s grip tightened on his rifle. A son. The words clung to him like dirt under his fingernails, no matter how hard he tried to brush them off. That wasn’t in the posters. The posters didn’t show them crying for their children.

“Shut up and swallow you whore!” Groaned the soldier. Minho forced a laugh again, his stomach tightening. Something wasn’t feeling right at all.

After what felt like an eternity, one of Minho’s comrades threw her on the floor. Her bare skin was covered in bruises and she didn’t seem like she could even walk properly. She was crying and begging for mercy. A soldier lit up a cigarette and threw the matchstick at her. She yelped. Another one looked at Minho before speaking up.

“You alright dude?” Minho nodded, trying to seem as natural as possible. “You don’t wanna try her? We loosened her for you, you know.” The soldier chuckled, MMinho forced a laugh again, but it caught in his throat, like swallowing glass.

“As if I wanted to touch one of those whores.” He spat, his words didn’t feel like his. “My dick has better taste.” He added cruelly, making the other laugh out loud. Minho laughed too. It tasted like bile. Suddenly, the loud creak of the door echoed in the room. It was the whore. She was running away.

“Minho!” someone barked. “Take the shot. She can’t go back.” His hands were frozen. His rifle felt heavier than ever. He looked around, he was the only one carrying the gun. He knew he had to but it felt so wrong.

“She’ll tell them everything. Shoot.” He ran to the opened door, looking at her running away. Almost instinctively, his arms raised his rifle.

“Damn Minho, will you shoot?” Barked one of the soldiers, almost swallowing his cigarette. A bullet fired. His own. She collapsed mid-step. Her knees hit the dirt first, then her hands. A gasp. Then nothing. Minho’s body twitched. As if he could have felt the fall as his own. 

“Good shot.” One of the men said, stepping out of the house and slapping Minho’s back. Minho swallowed. His throat was dry and hurted as if he had eaten glass. He clenched his jaw, forcing the bile back down. He nodded, forcing himself to speak.

“Yeah.” He should feel relieved. He should feel proud. But all he felt was the weight of her body hitting the ground. He exhaled sharply and walked out, followed by a fellow soldier who was buttoning back his pants. 

Later that night, Minho wiped the blood from his rifle with slow, methodical movements. The campfire flickered, casting long shadows over the dirt. Around him, voices rose in drunken celebration.

“To the first day of victory!” someone shouted. The men cheered, passing bottles between them. One of them nudged Minho, holding out a cup.

“Drink, hero.” Minho forced a grin and took a sip. The liquid burned down his throat. Someone laughed behind him.

“You should’ve seen her face,” one of the soldiers chuckled. “The way she ran - like a fucking rabbit.” Minho swallowed. His grip on the cup tightened. He forced himself to chuckle along. It’s just another day. Just another battle. But when he lay down later, staring at the cracked ceiling of their temporary shelter, sleep didn’t come. His body ached, exhaustion pulled at him, but something else coiled in his stomach, tight and unrelenting. He turned onto his side, gaze drifting across the room. The others were sleeping, some snoring, some shifting under their thin blankets. Minho exhaled. We’re all the same. Soldiers. Comrades. Brothers in arms. And yet, his eyes lingered too long. Just for a second. He turned away sharply, staring into the darkness. His body felt like a prison. 

[fullmoonsky]

Introducing: Skylar Finch

Statistics:

name: skylar finch nicknames: sky age: twenty-seven species: werewolf occupation: veterinarian zodiac: aries sun, taurus moon, scorpio rising pronouns: she/her gender: cis female orientation: bisexual height: 5'5" eye color: hazel hair color: brown (often dyed) shoulder length hometown: manchester, england scars: a bite mark on the back of her neck, claw marks on the back of her right shoulder blade tattoos: many piercings: double ear piercings

Good to know:

strengths: longevity, heightened senses, enhanced speed, strength, heat, and other superhuman physical abilities, empathy through touch, pain transference, telepathy, and quick regeneration. weaknesses: silver, mercury, wolfsbane, mortality, lunar cycle, magic, pain. vibes: defensive and hides behind a wall of humor. a sharp tongue and even sharper wit; smells like fresh rain and burnt matchsticks; messy ponytails and ripped jeans; vices: social drinker, occasional smoker the wolf: her wolf is large, fur is a deep russet color, eyes are golden brown

Present:

Skylar is a Veterinarian at Portum Veterinary. She says she recently moved to Portum to be closer to her siblings, but she's really on the run from a wolf pack that wants her dead. She likes to keep that to herself. Skylar is hard to get to know. Once her walls are broken down however, it's quite clear Skylar isn't as mean as she would like everyone to believe. Sky has a soft spot for animals (and sometimes even people) in distress. She can often be found on the hiking trails with her black German Shepherd (named Blue), getting a new tattoo, or rescuing anything with four legs. She likes to paint on her free time, but not too many people know about that.

Past:

TW: mention of death, murder, familial and domestic abuse The four Finch siblings weren't meant to be wolves. Born from a werewolf father and a human mother — their father infected them with the sickness when they were only infants, raising them on bloodshed, on celebrating the full moon as their spines cracked and ripped. Their father forced them to believe their forced lycanthropy was to be venerated, not shunned. He taught his children savagery by directing that same savagery to them   the  finch  father  was  far  from  gentle  in  his  upbringing.  he  taught  his  children  savagery  by  directing  that  same  savagery  to  them,  and  in  turn  the  older  siblings  would  do  whatever  they  could  to  shield  the  youngest  boy  from  the  truth  of  their  canine  ways.  While Skylar found their father's techniques to be extreme, she remains unashamed of her true nature and believes violence is sometimes necessary. She didn't always think this way. But after witnessing the cruelties of her father, it became quite clear to Skylar that if she had any chance of surviving, she was going to have to make her own way and be strong about it. Skylar put herself through Vet school, hoping to one day be able to take care of herself and escape her father's grasp. But she would soon find that she would trade one monster for another, entering a volatile relationship with a handsome young werewolf. It was around this time, three years ago, that her brother escaped to live in Portum. Only then did Skylar feel it was safe to make her own escape. She allowed her lover to convince her to join his pack, where he promised they would protect her. But this pack had a dark underbelly and Skylar was caught in the crosshairs. She was in love... for a time. But like all good things, it had to come to an end. History began to repeat itself. Her once sweet doting lover became violent. It lasted only so long in the preservation of so-called love, but the inherently violent nature of Skylar's own wolf was not to be underestimated. She was, after all, her father's daughter. And after so many years of unwavering self control - her wolf had become hungry. Skylar doesn't like to talk about what happened and generally keeps her siblings in the dark about it. Upon fleeing the pack, Skylar decided she wouldn't leave empty handed. She stole a large sum of money from the pack, believing it was owed to her. Her business with the pack is unresolved — they want her dead. She's spent her time since then running and trying to forget. But she can still remember the taste of his blood and the thrill of sinking teeth into bone.

[pyr0vents]

TW Mentions of: SA, abuse, grooming, suicide, self harm, drugs/alcohol, sexual innuendoes, mental health

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Introduction

Hello I’m Scott, this is my vent account separate from my main @pyr0man1c to keep my mental health away from my happier and jokey posts.

My account is 14+ due to my age and content (16+ is what most people find suitable but I myself am not 16 so it feels kinda hypocritical)

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From my bio:

‼️My vents may be triggering to others due to the severity of my mental health, I will add warnings as needed to prevent people from seeing content they don’t want to see or may be hurt seeing. Please be aware I cannot get help currently, I live in America and do not have health insurance or healthcare, I do not have access to therapy or medication due to this, telling me to get help is pointless as I am aware I need it but can’t get it. I am in a very sensitive state and may not take well to certain things, please be mindful of that and all I have said, thank you‼️

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Any art about me being Groomed/SA’d or abused by an older figure, is not something that has happened to me.

To explain, I have been SA’d 3 previous times by 3 different people at 3 different ages and 2 different places.

Because of this trauma, it has caused a response to have a desire to be brutally harmed and abused by someone, I am aware this is wrong and that’s why I try to express it through my art to get the bad thoughts out instead of acting on them by putting myself in situations where I would be harmed.

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The drugs is the same.

It was not actually caused by exposure to drugs or alcohol at a young age, it is connected to the desire to be abused, the desire to hurt myself and get put in bad places, including stuff like drugs or alcohol. The only drug I’ve ever actually considered doing is Nicotine and possibly weed but I think the second hand smoke from growing up around a smoker dad kinda caused that.

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Self harm and suicidal thoughts are something I’ve dealt with since I was 10, it’s nothing new. The newest thing from it is the weird sexual pleasure to self harming I’ve gained. (I have so many sexual problems lol) I honestly have no idea how this one came to be and it’s a mystery to me.

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Now into a me introduction now that the important stuff is done!

My name is Scott but you can call me Scotty

I am Queer FtM and Ace-spec

My pronouns are He/It

Im 14 turning 15 in December!

Im an artist and animator on my YT

Main YT:_kbil_nzrmx_

Vent YY:KbilVents

DNI

Bigots

Transphobes

Homophobes

Racists

Pretty much anyone who wouldn’t like a queer trans man who hates himself and hates everyone on this list.

Please be respectful of those around you, whether you agree with them or not, we are all entitled to our opinions and thoughts. Don’t be creepy with underage people on here if you are 18+ and mind what you say to me and others especially considering how I am very vulnerable on here and very obvious mentally unstable!!!

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[songsofadelaide]

Waltz of Four Left Feet

cw/tw: no curses/law school AU set in the 2020s, slice of life, unmotivated lawyer/law professor!higuruma x ??? female reader, established relationship, smoker higuruma headcanon, yuuji as higuruma's favourite student/law apprentice, yuuji spitting facts and meddles with the best of intentions, flashbacks of a meet-cute-ugly, inaccurate depictions of law school life, fluff, did I say slice of life already? (lol) + another marriage proposal. wc: 1.1k

"You do know that with your current knowledge and experience in the field, you're on the right track to becoming a great judge. Think about it, will you? Brilliant ones like you don't come around too often."

Hearing superiors, colleagues, students, and strangers alike sing his praises did not stroke his ego at all. More than anything, Higuruma felt a dense weight on his shoulders. Apart from being a lawyer himself, he was an educator, and he felt equally responsible for ensuring his students have the right knowledge at hand when they become lawyers themselves in the future.

And he was fine with that. Becoming a prosecutor? A judge? Those were far too ambitious for him to consider, let alone even think of. Until…

"That's not a bad idea, Higuruma-san. If you become a judge, you'll have more than enough to marry your girlfriend and provide for your family."

Well. That's another way to look at things.

Higuruma was taking a short smoke break in between his classes when one of his favourite students approached him with a chilled canned coffee in hand.

"Are you done with your readings, Itadori-kun?"

Educators shouldn't favour one student over another because it clouds their judgement, yet it was hard not to be drawn to Itadori Yuuji's enthusiasm for the law profession. The young man had enough promise and ambition for them both, and Higuruma made it his personal mission to mould the boy into a lawyer who would be praised just as much as him.

"And you've been with her for how many years now?" The younger man continued as he counted with his fingers, ignoring his mentor's question. "You really should be stepping up and proposing to her or something."

Higuruma breathed his cigarette deep and let out a drawn out exhale that seemed more like a sigh of frustration. "You really think I don't know that yet, kid?"

He first met you in a local coffee shop some years back after you both accidentally spilled your coffees on each other. Instead of being pissed at him, you laughed off the incident as a simple case of bad luck, something you obviously both shared on that day since it wasn't just you drenched in an Americano. He was equally soaking in your favourite latte.

And like a sunflower drawn to the warmth of daylight, he was easily charmed by your bright optimism— very much so that he didn't think twice when you asked him for his contact details (to pay him for his suit's dry cleaning).

Your second meeting at the same cafe wasn't so bad if not for the barista switching your drinks. You laughed it off as you drank your latte with his name on it, somehow tasting sweeter than the usual.

They got it right the third time. You guys were regulars by the fourth.

Higuruma once made the mistake of taking some of his law firm's apprentices to the very cafe you frequented and none of them were able to figure out why he froze at the entrance and urged everyone to find someplace else to have coffee.

Everyone except Yuuji, who followed his mentor's gaze and found a woman smiling at him from across the cafe. His attention to detail was both a boon and bane for him, and a stroke of bad luck for his professor, who unknowingly revealed his most well-kept secret. You could only laugh and shake your head as your boyfriend trailed behind his students, obviously trying his best to stay composed.

When Yuuji found you in the cafe the following day, he bought you a fruit tart. "You must be Higuruma-san's mysterious girlfriend."

"Can you keep it a secret for us both, Yuuji-kun?"

You became fast friends with the boy, too, much to Higuruma's embarrassment and enjoyment. You found it a pleasure to quiz the men with their subject cards even though you knew nothing about law while they weighed in on your own work matters.

"Higuruma-san, you aren't like those people who are married to their profession, are you?"

"Of course not. Now get back to your readings."

His dismissal of talks about marriage was off-putting, but Yuuji knew that Higuruma was just stalling for time. For whatever reason, he'll probably never know.

Higuruma stubbed out his cigarette and threw the butt in the nearby receptacle.

"You have a pretty cushy salary, if you ask me. But if you aren't going to obtain a judgeship like the other professors suggested, what else is stopping you from getting married?"

Oh, right. Yuuji was still there.

"Those readings aren't going to do themselves."

Something did stop him, in fact. It was the fact that you two never really spoke about it. Marriage.

Your relationship was like an ongoing dream for him. One he hadn't woken up from yet because of how airy it made him feel. Just like how a sunflower curled in the direction of the sun, so too did he whenever you were asleep in bed together, curling into your warmth as though he wanted to keep it for his own.

And when he told you over dinner about the judgeship offer from earlier in the day, you replied to him with the same optimism that drew him to you from the start.

"Hiromi, you know I'll always have your back in whatever it is you decide to do. If you wanna go for that judgeship, I say go for it! But you don't have to force yourself, either," you reassured him with a warm smile, one that pulled a similar grin to his own tired face. "Though I suppose some extra shopping money wouldn't be so bad."

"What about m…" He started, only for his voice to fail him. His favourite student would probably be berating him for being so nervous over nothing. Over everything.

"What?"

"Marry me."

Your cutlery goes quiet against your plate, a twinkle in your eyes he mistook for something else. He was planning his escape route now. Your upfront refusal was kindness enough, he thought to himself. But was he really going to stick around and listen to you enumerate the reasons why you wouldn't—

"Of course I will, Hiromi."

"Huh?"

"Oh, my silly little doomer. Did you really think I'd refuse to marry you?" You chuckled at him from across the dinner table. "After that question, expect to be stuck with me for good."

Higuruma laughed, the rumble coming deep from his core. As if there was anything else he'd want more than that. You were all the optimism he needed in his life. "I suppose you're stuck with me then, too."

[thewritersaddictions]

First Kiss: Billy Hargrove- PassionFire

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Pov: Reader

Warnings: Talk of virginity, implied smut, 18+, First Kiss, talk of mean/abusive ex-boyfriend, helpful friend, sweet Billy, fluff, smoking. drinking, soft!Billy.

Summary: You’re hurt by your now ex-boyfriend when he breaks up with you for not giving up your virginity; Billy is more then willing to help

A/n- Fireflygraphics for dividers

WC- 2.5

Stranger Things Master List // The Adults Master List // Series Master List // First Kiss Master List

The tears hadn’t stopped, for hours I had been crying my eyes out. I knew why Jamie had broken up with me but I couldn’t really imagine why it was hitting me so hard. He and I had the talk about the fact that I wasn’t really comfortable with giving up my virginity, or truly anything that stripped my virginity away from me. Espically not when he was drunken mess from the lunch date earlier. 

Had I walked all the way to Billy’s house? Yes, I had walked all the way toward Billys. I hadn’t meant to just walk out of my house. Well maybe I had, my mind was clouded and I wasn’t able to think about anything other than needing someone, a shoulder to cry on. 

I had only ever been to Billy’s once or twice. Nothing more then to tutor him, a one off exchange between the both of us. I was tutor him once a month and he would help me with othe basic things. If I thought about it he was the one that introduced me to Jamie. I knocked on the front door only once, before i rang the doorbell. I could hear the rock music playing in the house at volumes I doubt his father or stepmother would allow. “What the hell do you…” The door had opened Billy was standing there. In nothing but an old beat up white tank top, and his signature jeans. 

“Y/n?” He questioend, he was aware of the tears I had running down my cheeks. Or tears that had stained my cheeks. “Billy I know that I’m here unannouced. I just didn’t know where else to go and Jamie he… well Jamie broke up with me.” I said in a ramble of mixed words. He kept his eyes on me for only a moment before the anger swept through his facial expressions. I had a quick moment of doubt, a moment of realizing my mistakes of trekking down to his house on Cherry Lane. “Billy… I’m sorry I think it will be better if I just leave.” I said hastily. Before I could turn to walk away he was grabbing my arm pulling into the warmth of the house. 

“Did you walk all the way here?” he asked his voice a little horse from what I would only guess he was trying to push down the anger. I only shook my head and then he was slamming his bedroom shut. His room smelt of cologne and smokes. Something that always had my head in a twist. “Why would you not just call me? You know I would come and get you?” He asked, to many questions and my own thoughts were cloding my already foggy brain. The bed was softer then I imagined it would be and it bounced as I moved on it. 

“Hello Mcfly? Are you there?” Billy asked waving his hand over my face. “Yeah I’m here. I just I’m sorry I need a second?” The words tumbled out of my mouth and the urge to cry was boiling over in the back of my throat. “Goddamn it Y/n.” Billy said throwing a punch into the air. “I’m sorry. Okay I’m sorry.” The tears had started to run again, I’m sure why or why I had even walked my sad ass all the way towards Billy’s. 

Billy hadn’t yet looked over at me up until that moment. “Fuck I’m sorry Y/n. I just don’t know how to deal with you know.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Of course the crying I forgot.” I said. I looked over at Billy for the first time. Looking at the sharpness of his jawline as he sat down beside me. I brushed the tears from under my eyes, and breathed hard. 

We sat in a cold and harass silence for a little to long. The room growing smaller as it more and more uncomfortable. I wondered where his parents where, and where was his witty red headed stepsister. I was dragged out of my thoughts when I heard Billy ask me a question. “So, if you don’t mind telling me what happened?” He asked, as he got up from the spot next to me and grabbed his smokes. 

Billy wasn’t always the most emotionally supportive friend or really a good friend at all. I had seen the small arguments that his father and Billy would get into. Things would be thrown, voices would get louder then normal, and punches would go flying normally hitting Billy in the chest, stomach or square in his perfect face. 

-

Did I mind telling Billy what had managed to happen. To have me to end up at his door on a random night. No, I honestly didn’t mind that’s why I had walked all the way here, to talk to someone about it. To let it go into the air and away from my over thinking mind, that was currently mualing it over. “I don’t mind Billy. Just promise you won’t go crazy on me?” I asked. I licked my chap lips, and looked over at him. He was ever so sightly taller then me. No matter if we were standing or sitting down. 

He sighed heavily, like my requests was a rather hard on to swallow down. “Yeah I promise.” He said exhaling a puff of smoke. So my story from earlier in the day began. “So I guess I should start earlier in the day right.” I said looking down at my hands. My fingers dancing between the fabric of my shirt and messing with my short nails. All I heard was a small hum for me to continue with my story. 

“Jamie and I had just gotten back from a lunch with his friends. You know the ones from the basketball team?” I asked, but continued on. “So we had gone and everything was okay. Jamie had picked me and was all gentlemen like. I don’t know how they managed it though, somehow where ever we went with Jamies friends they were able to get some sort of alcoholic drinks. I wasn’t sure of what kind, but I’m not a drinker. I never have been, so instead I watched as the boys and their girlfriends who were to prim and proper to know just how disgusting day drinking was. Drink and drink til their hearts were content.” I said, taking a slow breath, looking at Billy he was still interested in the story. 

“But a subject was brought up during lunch today. A topic that you don’t normally talk about in fucking public or with other people who aren;t in your relationship. Jamie had been asked how good of a fuck I was, and if I knew what I was doing.” I said, my words getting caught in the back of my throat. To be honest as I talked about it outloud the words seemed dirtier, and heavier then before. 

I shook my head and continued on with my my heart breaking story. “He laughed about it, telling everyone that I was prude, and didn’t ever really staisfed him at all.” I chortled, not that it was funny or a joke at all. Just sounded funnier now that I had time to think about his words and just how stupid of a guy he truly is. “Are you sure this is Jamie that you’re talking about? The same Jamie I know?” Billy asked me raised eyebrows in wonder. 

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, and please just let me finish and then I’ll get out of your hair.” I said with a huff before returning to my story. It wasn’t like there was much, beside the argument we had in the drive back to my house, and the argument we had before he broke up with me. There wasn’t much more to tell. 

“For the rest of that god for saken lunc hI sat in the uncomfortable silence of his friends girlfriends speaking about me like I wasn’t there and him and his friends laughing about the fact I was still a virgin. I hadn’t even kissed him yet.” I said. “We left not shortly after, and the car ride was horrible. I wasn’t able to hold it in any longer the anger boiling and finally tipping over the edge. I yelled at him as he drove me back to my house. He called me a prude once again and then a bitch for not just  giving him what he wanted.” I said my fingers twitching within my lap. Looking down at the carpeted floor. The stains from whatever Billy brought into his room had seeped into the flooring. 

And for the first time in the entire day I smiled. “The fighting didn’t stop, not even when he followed after me half drunk into my house. I tired to push him away but he wasn’y having any of that. So, he grabbed me tightly around the wrist.” I pushed my sleeve up showing the growing bruise that was caused because of his grasps. “I did try and get away Billy. I screamed at him to let me go and pushed him away, until his cold and dark eyes looked back at me and told me that he never not once in out entire relationshoped loved me, and that I was better off alone. The lost and little lamb that I was, was better off alone because nobody would want such a prude like me.”

It was silent for a moment before I started to speak again. “You know the rest Billy.” I said with a shurg of my shoulders. I was tired the crying, and screaming taking a lot of me. I sat there still, before I felt Billy’s rough hand touch over both of mine. “I knew I shouldn’t have shared you with my friends.” I heard Billy whisper out, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle into my skin. The touch was intimate for many a reason. But the most obvious one was the simple fact that Billy wasn’t one for touch, or any true sign of emotion. 

“Shared me?” I questioned. Shared me what the hell did that even mean? There was no pretending that the crush I had on Billy was ever going to go away. The crush had grown and been growing even through I was dating Jamie. “All of those damn guys are just pricks. Not to mention their dumb, dull girlfriends.” Billy said, his hand still resting into my mine. Thumb still rubbing soothing circles into my hand. 

“Yeah I get that, but what do you mean share me?l I was intrigued more about what the implications of his words meant, not by how his words made me wanna melt into his sheet. “Just be honest with me Billy. I’m a big girl and I can handle it.” I just for once tonight wanted the truth.whether it was cold and harsh or  made me feel giddy. I don’t know what was happening all around me. This felt like a hazy dream that I had dreamt a million times over. He deeply stared at me, a few whispys of his golden hair falling infront of his forehead. They were distracting me from another part of his handsome face. Those sky blue eyes that somehow pierce right into your heart. 

A heavy sigh left him before he composed himself. “I just mean that… you’re were my friend first ya know. I shouldn’t have let you out for the wolves.” Billy said. He looked like he was trying to hold something back, and the grip he had on my hand was getting stronger. “Billy? Please.” Was all I had left to say. The truth, please just the fucking truth that’s all I had been searching for all day long. 

“Fine, you want the truth don’t you. You can’t just leave it at the front door can you? Fuck,” Billy said voice growing deeper by the second. His eyes casted down to my bruised wrist. “I should have just kept you for myself. Treated you better than some asshole who clearly doesn’t doesn’t know who they have in their arms.” It was like pulling teeth with Billy to just get him to talk about the simplest emotions. 

I wanted to laugh, but that felt wrong. This must be a true joke right. Billy would never, never fall for the innocent, shy girl that was only his friend because he got something out of it. Right? “Now you’re tight lipped.” Billy commented as I had gone silent. I went to say something but things wer eswirling around in my head. “That’s okay. I get it, big bad Billy can’t help but like the girl that’s to cute for her own good. Who lets people walk all over hee. I should have protected you from an asshole like Jamie, but I thought that you would never. I mean never take a liking to me. I was a dick to… well to everyone. Maybe you alrady knew that, but then you still end up here at my doorstep. So, that must mean something right?” Billy rambled on. 

I was in shock for to many reasons at this point. Was he was rambling because he was letting his guard down, the millions of walls that he had built. He was still talking, but I wasn’t paying attention to the endless flow of words that were falling out. I was paying attention to how his tongue jutted out and licked over his lips. A shiny glaze making them glisten in the little light that he had. I didn’t know what was happening, not even after I started moving towards him. 

His hand was still on mine, so I leant in. “Billy.” I whispered. “Will you stop talking and just make up for the lost time.” I begged in barely a whisper. That signature smirk crossed over his rambling expressions. He reached me. A hand coming to cup the back of my neck as he leant down and pressed his lips against mine. 

The kind of kiss made me feel like the time around us had stopped. It wasn’t a kiss that I would ever be able to explain to my friends. It was like stars had aligned, and everything for just that one moment was perfect. Billy had taken my first kiss, and when we broke away from each other. That signature smirk hadn’t left his face, he was very cheeky. “How was that for a first kiss huh?” He asked. I rolled my eyes, “How about you ask me later. Like I said you have to make up for a lot of lost time.”

I winked at him, before going in for another deep and lustful kiss. This was going wherever it was supposed, without any further pushing on either of our parts. He pushed me down onto the mattress. His free hand roamed down my chest and found a spot on the side of my ribcage. Billy’s other hand stayed on my cheek, holding me closer than before. 

Completed on: 02/05/23

Posted on: 02/06/23

The Adults- @yourfavdummy

[extraterrestrial1345]

All I do is get high and work (I wanna get away)