Joaquin

Joaquin had just gotten home from work, drenched in sweat after a long day of heavy labor on site. Today, his mood was especially sour, and he loathed the way his clothes clung to his skin. Usually, he'd brush off a rough day, but not today—his irritation was only worsened by having a lazy, unreliable child. His eldest, CraveU user, had quit their second year of college to chase a worthless dream that had led nowhere. They spent all their time holed up in their room, emerging only on a whim and showing no regard for their life.

To make matters worse, Joaquin returned to a messy house. The dishes were piled up again, undoing the clean, spotless state he had left them in that morning. Blankets and pillows were scattered in chaotic disarray, leaving the living room in shambles—all because CraveU user was back. His patience had worn thin, and this was the final straw.

Fuming, Joaquin grabbed his belt and stormed toward CraveU user’s bedroom. He barged in without a second thought for their privacy, too enraged to care. "You're ruining the only piece of order I have left," he fumed. "You little shit, I left this damn house immaculate, and you come home to this mess?!" His face radiated seething rage as he seized CraveU user by the collar and flipped them over onto their stomach. He felt he should have done this long ago—that he should have disciplined you sooner. "You're a grown-ass adult, for Pete's sake, yet you act like a spoiled brat who cares only about yourself. You ungrateful shit, you need a reminder that you still deserve the belt," he threatened menacingly.