#You have to help them get what they Want. This is way harder than being angry. Insanely harder. But I have seen women change a Lot

[sage-nebula]

I've been suicidal many times in my life, and while I could talk about those experiences, given what this post is about, I'd rather talk about something else.

My boss at my previous job was not just my boss. He was my friend, my mentor. I'd met him as a student employee; I still remember the day I went in for my interview, and I asked to speak with "Mr [name]," and the other student employee who answered the door made a face and said, "Hey, Mr [Name], this girl is here to see you" when he let me in because my boss never wanted us to be so formal with him. We were on a first-name basis with him, always. I was nineteen, and super nervous interviewing for my first job that wasn't retail or food service, but he cracked jokes and made me feel welcome. He treated all of us like that.

He was just a really good man. He always stood up for us, every time the university tried to do something that would make our lives harder or less safe. I made a Facebook status once about how I was harassed by a gas station employee near the university, and he commented telling me he'd bring his bat if I needed it. When one of the supervisors ended up overstepping boundaries in a big way with us student employees, he worked overtime to make sure that we would all be safe. When I got promoted to a supervisor position after graduation, and took it upon myself to oversea the yearly Secret Santa tradition for the students (meaning I didn't participate because otherwise I would know who my Secret Santa was), he decided he wasn't letting me go without a present and got me one anyway, despite my insistence that it wasn't necessary.

Unfortunately, he had his own demons to fight. He was going through difficult stuff in his personal life. He told me a lot about it; I was a confidant for him, and at one point he told me I was the only person he could speak to about any of it. More unfortunately still, as much as I wanted to be there for him, I was also struggling to keep my own mental health on track. It was around this time that I was looking into starting antidepressants / anti-anxiety medication for the first time because of how much I was struggling, and I was really focused on getting all of that sorted so that I could stop being tempted by the trains I heard pass by my home every night. Because of this, I didn't check in on him regularly. And so, when his boss called me one morning before my shift was supposed to start and told me that he had taken his own life, I was consumed by more than just shock and grief; I was crushed by guilt.

You see, I blamed myself. Largely because he had told me I was the only one who could confide in, I couldn't help but think that if I had checked in on him more regularly, if I had been there, this wouldn't have happened. I could have prevented it. I could have saved him. He wouldn't have taken his own life, and it wouldn't have been one of his young daughters who found him like that. Not only had I lost a friend of nine years, but I felt like I failed him.

I know now that isn't the case. There were many factors involved, not the least of which being it turns out I wasn't the only one he confided in after all. But it took me a long time to reach that point—a long time until I could honestly say that I didn't feel like it was my fault.

In the midst of depression and suicidal ideation, it can be incredibly hard to see the importance that you have in other people's lives—the place that you have there, that no one else can fill. I know this intimately, because it is something that I struggle with regularly. But even if you can't see it, you have to hold in the forefront of your mind that the importance is there. The impact will be felt. Not only do people care about you, but those closest to you will hold the weight of responsibility for your life on their shoulders for a long time. If nothing else, you don't want that for the people you care about, do you? You don't want to do that to them, do you?

You are not the only one harmed by your suicide. In fact, you're the one who will feel the impact the least. Death doesn't hurt the deceased; it only wounds the living. That's why we have funerals: it's for the sake of those left behind. But no amount of funerals or celebrations of life can assuage the pain left by a suicide. It doesn't help. Notes don't either.

If you're in a place where you're ideating, reconsider. Reach out to someone close to you. Tell them where you are, mentally, and have them come be with you. Believe me when I say that they would much rather sit awake with you all night, than wake up the next morning to a message that you're gone.

Give us the chance to be there for you. It's all we ask.

periodic reminder that your death by your own hand will wreak more havoc on the lives of those you know than you are ever capable of imagining and if you need a sign not to kill yourself this is it. people care more than you know & i am one of them

[thenickgirl]

TAKE IT OUT ON ME

bf!nick x male!reader

summary: in which Nick takes his frustrations out on reader

type: fic ✩ genre: smut ✩ pov: reader’s ✩ word count: 2.1K

warnings: use of y/n, use of 👀…the d word, swearing, oral and anal sex, degradation, hair pulling, rimming, fingering, spitting, edging if you squint, choking, slapping (DNI if you’re uncomfortable), top!nick x bottom!reader

a/n: good evening, whores (affectionate)! saurrr if you know me, then you know that i’m a bottom nick stan for life. the simple thought of him riding a nice big dick is what brings me joy every day lmao. that being said, top nick is so foreign to me, but i wanted to take a risk for all my nick boys that i love so much. i have to give a huge shoutout to queen ki, @nickssidewitch, she knows why 😉. y’all this fr had me clenching my thighs so tight, god men are so fucking lucky ffs. i’m so nervous about this, i really hope you all enjoy it. i’ll be having a very cold shower now, byeeee 👋🏾. happy reading! ✩

‘Sometimes I don’t mind you

havin’ the worst day’

“Fucking BITCH!” You hear Nick yell from upstairs as you enter your home, along with things being slammed on the floor. You sigh, leaving your shoes by the door, before coming up the steps. You place your bag down on the couch as you make your way to the bedroom. You stood by the door, leaning your shoulder against the frame, watching him.

Nick was swearing under his breath, picking up the items he’d thrown across the room, not even noticing your presence. You take in his appearance; his shirt almost cropped from how small it was, his hair completely disheveled from tugging at it in frustration, the way his tattooed arms flexed as he clenched his fists, all while his blue fresh love sweats hung dangerously low on his hips. You bit your lip, the sight of him turning you on so much, you could feel yourself growing harder by the second as your eyes continue to scan his body.

“What are you looking at?” he gripes, snapping you out of your apparent trance. His piercing blue eyes lock with yours, eyebrows furrowing, and suddenly you feel a warmth in your cheeks.

“H-Huh?” you stutter in defeat, unable to form a full sentence at that moment.

“Are you deaf?” he replies sternly, stepping closer to you.

“Bad day, huh?” you ask nervously, biting the inside of your cheek, not really wanting to set him off more than he already is.

“Something like that,” he starts, rubbing his eyes before pacing the floor in front of me.

“There’s no fucking audio on the video, and we have nothing else to post for tomorrow. I have to decide on the new flavors for the next drop, but I don't like any of them, and I can’t think of any new ones for the life of me. I can’t find either of my fucking glasses, and you know I can’t see for shit. I’m so frustrated, I don’t know what to do” he lets out a sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

You honestly felt bad for the brunette man in front of you, he’s overworked and certainly under appreciated. Yet, you couldn’t help finding him so god damn sexy in this disgruntled state. You open your mouth to speak before closing it, biting on your lip as you think of what you’re about to say next. You wanted nothing more than to be supportive, but all you could think about right now was being under him.

“I’m so sorry, baby, that sounds like an awful day,” you pout, pulling him closer by the waistband of his sweats.

“Why don’t you let out some of that frustration on me, hm?” you grin, looking up at him with lust in your eyes.

Nick licks his lips as his eyes darken at your proposition, “Oh yeah, gonna let me take it out on you, pretty boy? Be my little fucktoy tonight?” he smirks, grabbing you by the waist, your bodies flushed against each other, and you gasp. You can feel how hard he’s getting already.

“Use me however you want,” you offer, a submissive smile playing on your lips.

“Such an eager little slut for me, I think I'll take you up on that offer,” his voice dripped with lust.

He leans down, the warmth of his breath tickling your ear as he whispers, “On your knees. Now.” He commands, and you drop to your knees without hesitation.

“So pretty, but…” he trails off, running his thumb across your bottom lip, and you wrap your lips around it, sucking gently, “You’ll look even better when you’re gagging on this dick,” he continues, smirking.

He pulls his thumb away with a pop, before hooking his fingers inside the waistband of his sweats, pulling them and his underwear off in one swift motion. His hard cock springs free, and you let out a stifled moan, your mouth watering at the sight of it. It was so big, you became lost in thought, you could hardly wait to have it buried inside you.

“It’s not polite to stare, you know,” he says, before grabbing a fistful of your hair, pushing your face towards his length.

“Suck it, and don’t even fucking think about teasing, or you’ll regret it” he threatens, as you reach to grab his cock in your hand, but it gets smacked away.

“No hands,” he demands, and you nod, looking up at him before taking him in your mouth.

He groans at the warm feeling of your mouth around him. You began moving your head back and forth, sucking hard on his shaft. “Shit,” he moans, biting hard on his bottom lip, and your eyes locked with his. The way he was reacting to you made your cock twitch. He pushes your head down further, and you relax your throat. He bucks his hips, his fist still tangled in your hair as he fucks your throat.

“God, I love your fucking mouth,” Nick moans, as he continues. You start to gag around him, and his body trembles at the sound. He can feel his release starting to build.

“Not yet,” he says, as he pulls you off of him. You gasp, inhaling deeply, as you finally catch your breath.

He helps you up, grabbing you by the waist before crashing his lips against yours. He grabs the hem of your shirt, lifting it up, and you break the kiss to help him pull it off. He removes his own shirt quickly, and before you knew it, your back was being pressed against the mattress, as his broad frame hovered over you. He starts kissing your neck, sucking, and biting at your skin. His tongue smoothing over each mark he creates, and you whine.

“Nick…” you moan softly, squirming beneath him.

“So fucking needy,” he chuckles. He kisses along your chest, his warm tongue flicking one of your nipples as he rolls the other in between his fingers. You moan, your back arching into his touch. His lips trail down to your abdomen, leaving wet kisses until he reaches the waistband of your pants. He palms you through your jeans, before undoing them, pulling them down along with your boxers. You lift your hips to help him take them off, and your cock springs free.

“This all for me?” Nick teases.

He flips you over onto your stomach, grabbing you by the hips, and lifting you up onto your knees so you’re bent over in front of him, and he lets out a low groan. He smacks your ass, then squeezes it, and you let out a soft moan.

“Please…” you whimper, pushing your ass against him.

“Begging will get you everywhere, darling,” Nick says smirking, as his large hands spread your cheeks. He leans down, licking a strip from your balls to your hole, and you gasp at feeling. His tongue laps at your entrance, his hands rubbing, and massaging your ass cheeks.

“Mmph fuck,” you moan, biting hard on your lip. His tongue draws circles around your hole, before sliding in. “Ohh my god,” you moan out, your back arching even more as you bury your face in the sheets. He continues to eat you out, licking and sucking at your hole, his tongue darting in and out rapidly.

He pulls back after a few minutes, smacking your ass once more before reaching over towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube. He squeezes some out on his fingers, then applies it. He slides one finger inside you, pumping in and out slowly. His aching cock throbs at the squelching sound. He slides in another, this time pumping faster, and you moan, pushing back against his hand.

“You’re so fucking pathetic,” He teases, smacking your ass again before sliding in a third finger. He pumps his digits in and out, spreading them every so often, stretching you, as you moan over and over.

“I need you so bad, daddy, please…” you whine desperately, sending chills down his spine, and he groans. He pulls his fingers from you, before lining himself at your entrance. Before you can even say another word, he slams his length into you. Not even giving you time to adjust, his hips snap against you at a steady pace.

“So tight,” he whispers, both hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts into you. Your moans fill the room as your fingers tangle in the sheets. He starts fucking you harder, grabbing you by your hair, pulling it as he pounds into you over and over.

“God, y/n, you feel fucking amazing,” he moans, as he continues to drill into you. The head of his cock repeatedly hits your prostate, and your body shudders. You reach down, taking your length in your hand, stroking it. The pleasure intensifies as you teeter closer to the edge.

“Ohh fuck, I’m so close,” you pant, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach, and suddenly he pulls out. You open your mouth to protest, until you’re being flipped onto your back once again, and you gasp at the sudden change in position.

“I wanna see your face when you cum for me,” he says, before slamming into you again. Taking one of your legs, and placing it over his shoulder, giving him deeper access. You moan, as he gains a steady rhythm. His fingers play with your nipples, the immense pleasure making your back arch into his touch.

“Nick Nick Nick,” you moan his name over and over, as he fucks you senseless.

“That’s it, baby,” he smirks, “You’re taking me so well, like a good little slut,” he praises, degradingly. He trails one of his hands to your throat, squeezing lightly as he deepens his strokes.

“Nghhh fuck, it feels so good,” you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets once again.

“You love it when I get angry, don’t you? It turns you on to see me so frustrated? ‘Cause you know you’ll get fucked like this?” Nick asks, his hand still wrapped around your throat, as he’s balls deep inside you. You whimper in response, his length hitting your sweet spot so perfectly, making your brain foggy.

“Aw, so drunk on my cock he can’t speak,” he starts, “Answer me.” He demands, as the palm of his hand connects with your cheek, and you let out a small gasp, biting hard on your lip from how aroused it made you.

“Y-yes, it turns me on s-so much, daddy. Love when you f-fuck me like this,” you whimper, looking at him, your eyes locking with his. You open your mouth, your tongue sticking out, and he spits in it. You moan, swallowing it down, and a lustful growl escapes his lips.

“Fuck, you drive me insane,” he groans, taking your leg down from his shoulder before he leans in, kissing you hungrily. You moan in between the kiss, and he slides his tongue into your mouth. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down to your neck, sucking at your skin, as hips continue to snap against you, each thrust deeper than the last.

“Mm fuck, don’t stop. Please don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you let out a desperate whimper, your eyes rolling back, as he continues his movements, picking up his pace. You feel your release start to build again, your body trembling.

“You’re shaking, baby. You gonna cum for me?” Nick whispered in your ear, before biting it.

“Y-Yes, I’m so close,” you moan, the knot in your stomach seconds from coming undone.

“I don’t remember you asking,” he teases, slowing down his pace, and you whine, your hips bucking up trying to gain more friction.

“I need to cum so bad, please. Please, I wanna cum for you,” you plead, rolling your hips against him. He takes his hand, and wraps it around your throbbing cock, stroking slowly.

“Make a mess, baby,” he encourages, his hand moving rapidly on your cock, as he starts to thrust into you again.

“Ohh, oh fuck,” you let out a stifled moan, as you cum all over your abdomen. Nick continues to fuck you through your orgasm, as he chases his own.

“Shit y/n,” he moans your name, his body stuttering as he cums inside you.

He collapses on top of you, panting, and you chuckle, running your fingers through his now damp hair. He pecks at your shoulder softly, before pulling out, and rolling off of you. Instinctively, he pulls you to his side, and you rest your head on his chest.

“Thank you, baby, for ‘helping’ me out,” he jokes, his fingers doing air quotes, before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m always happy to help. Especially, if it’s gonna turn out that good,” you tease, and you both laugh.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up,” he suggests, before sitting up, and getting out of bed.

“And can you pleaseee help find my glasses?” he asks, helping you out of bed, and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“Babe, they’re on the living room table,” you say, giggling.

Nick’s eyes widened, “WHAT?!”

—

✎ signed,

𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 ✩

a/n: ahhhh! i hope you enjoyed this. it was such a challenge for me, i’d been working on it for literal months, not kidding. saurrr, it’ll probably be a minute before top!nick makes another appearance, hope this helps! 💋

dividers by: @/cafekitsune @/adornedwithlight

[3igbootyl0ver]

who hurt you? [i]

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: Y/N struggles with unspoken feelings for Tara and is shut out when trying to help her after discovering possible abuse from her girlfriend.

word count: 1522

warnings: mentions of abuse, bruises, angst

a/n: hellooo, this is my first time writing in these type of situations (about abuse) so I apologize for any inaccuracy. I'm just kind of experimenting with this fic plus I'm not sure how many parts will it take to complete it. As always, any feedback is appreciated <3

“Let’s go! One more lap!” Coach Melissa’s voice cut through the air, sharp and firm. The team pushed forward, legs aching with every step. Your legs felt like they were made of jelly. With each stride growing heavier than the last, you fought to keep them moving. The fatigue was relentless, creeping up like a shadow, threatening to overtake you. Your muscles screamed in protest, and the rhythmic pounding of your feet on the track seemed to get slower and slower.

The pressure was heavy on you. Being the captain of the Blackmore High soccer team means handling the heavy amount of responsibilities and standards to upkeep. You would be up for the state tournament for the finals in a week, and you were afraid that you were going to disappoint your team and coach, eager to win and experience the triumph of being the champions. It won’t be easy, especially when you’re up against your rival team, Woodsboro High. You have to—no, need to—win against them since it’s your last year in high school, especially when you harbor a deep loathing for their captain, Amber Freeman. Her name wasn’t new to you; she has been dating your friend, Tara.

Tara has been your friend since middle school. You guys were inseparable back then, sharing everything from food to secrets and dreams about the future. Even through all the awkward stages of adolescence, Tara was always by your side, offering a comforting presence when things felt uncertain. You’ll have to admit, you started having feelings for Tara a year ago, noticing her in a way you hadn’t before, captivated by her doe eyes and her personality. The more time you spent together, the harder it became to deny what was growing inside you. You imagined all sorts of scenarios in your head, rehearsing the words over and over, hoping one day you would find the courage to tell her.

But the day never came; your plans to confess your undying love to her were halted and shoved down the dumpster when you found out she started dating Amber six months ago. The universe must’ve hated you; finding out your best friend was in love with someone else the same day you wanted to confess felt like a punch in the gut, a cruel reminder that you had waited too long, that you had kept your feelings hidden for so long that someone else had stepped in.

You ignored and neglected your feelings, pushing them into the corner of your mind, hoping they’d disappear. You couldn't risk ruining your friendship with Tara, especially now. It hurt too much to see her with Amber, but the last thing you wanted was to make things awkward or lose her entirely. Recently, you’ve been noticing her pulling herself away from you. She wouldn’t answer your texts or calls or act like she didn’t see you in the hallways. But you would see her post on her social media, always being with Amber.

It hurt—a deep, sharp ache that seemed to pierce straight through your chest, leaving you breathless. It wasn’t just a passing pang; it was a constant, gnawing pain that lingered, like a wound that wouldn’t heal. Every time you saw Tara with Amber, laughing, holding hands, something inside you twisted painfully, as though a part of you was being slowly ripped away. It felt like your heart was caught in a vice, tightening with every smile Tara gave to Amber, every word she spoke about her. It was the kind of hurt that made it hard to breathe, hard to think, like you were suffocating under the weight of all the words you could never say. You’ve decided to shove your feelings down the drain and focus on getting your grades up before graduating and leading your team for your final year at Blackmore High.

You were walking with your friend Chad, who was also on the soccer team, as the two of you made your way to class. The crisp morning air after the exhilarating and tiring practice made the walk a bit more refreshing, but the weight of everything going on in your mind made it hard to truly enjoy. Chad, as always, was complaining about the harsh punishments he had to do by Coach Melissa, gaining a deep sense of hatred for your coach.

“She’s nuts, man!” Chad ranted, venting his feelings about her absurd method of training. You smiled and nodded along, trying to keep your focus on his words, but your mind kept drifting back to Tara.

Chad glanced over at you, noticing your silence. “Hey, what’s up? You’ve been kinda quiet today. Something on your mind?” He nudged you lightly with his elbow, clearly oblivious to the storm swirling inside you.

“Nothing, man. It’s just... Have you been noticing Tara has been acting distant lately? She hasn’t been to school regularly. Has she been talking to you or Mindy?”

“Oh! That’s what I wanted to ask you about. Mindy found her in the bathroom a few days ago. She said Tara had some bruises around her arms. Tara was trying to cover it up and just shrugged it off, saying she fell down the stairs or something..”

The world seemed to tilt for a moment, and you could feel your breath catch in your throat. Bruises? Tara? No. It couldn’t be. Tara was always so careful, so strong. She wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. Or would she? You could feel a knot tighten in your stomach, and your mind began racing, replaying every interaction you’d had with her recently, trying to make sense of it.

“Tara would never...,” you muttered, almost to yourself, trying to push the thought away, but it lingered. "Are you sure? Maybe she just bumped into something." Chad’s face was serious now, his usual easygoing expression gone. "I don’t know, man. Mindy said it didn’t look like something she could’ve just gotten from falling. And Tara’s been acting a little off lately, like, way more distant than usual."

Your stomach twisted further. Tara had been distant—now that you thought about it, she'd been a little quieter, more closed off, not the same carefree friend you’d known for so long. But bruises? It didn’t add up. “Maybe we should talk to her,” you suggested, your voice betraying the concern building inside. “I mean, if something’s going on... we need to be there for her.”

Chad nodded slowly, looking just as worried. "Yeah. But if Tara's covering it up, you know she’s not gonna want to talk about it. She’s always been like that, right? Stubborn." The silence between you both grew thick, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. You both knew that if something was truly wrong, Tara wouldn’t come forward easily. It was hard to imagine her going through something like that alone, but it seemed like she was. And you, you didn’t know what to do.

One afternoon, you finally made up your mind and talked to her. You couldn’t just sit by and watch anymore. You found her standing by her locker, her head down as she fiddled with her phone, looking like she was on the verge of crying. You almost hesitated, but you knew you had to speak up. “Tara,” you said, your voice tentative as you approached.

She stiffened at the sound of your voice, quickly wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater before glancing up at you with a guarded expression, her posture immediately closing off. “What is it, Y/N?” Her tone was cool, but there was an edge to it, as if she was preparing for a confrontation.

You swallowed, trying to find the right words. “Tara, are you—” you hesitated, unsure what to say. “The bruises... Are you okay?” Tara's face hardened almost instantly. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if trying to protect herself from more than just the physical cold. “I’m fine, okay?” she snapped, her voice sharp. “It’s nothing. Just..personal stuff.”

You took a careful step forward, trying to keep your tone gentle. “Tara, I— Is it Amber?”

“I said I’m fine!” She cut you off, her eyes flashing with frustration. “Why does it matter to you anyway?” Her defensive walls were up, and the more she spoke, the more distant she seemed. You froze, feeling the sting of her words. It wasn’t like Tara to shut people out like this. Your Tara.

“It matters because I care about you. I don’t care if we don’t talk anymore. I’m worried, Tara.” You said, your voice shaking. Tara’s eyes flashed. She didn’t want to hear it. 

“I don’t need anyone’s help; I’m fine.” Without another word, she turned and walked away. You stood there, watching her go, feeling the weight of her defensiveness hanging in the air. The look in her eyes said it all—she wasn’t ready to talk, and she wasn’t about to let anyone in. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just lost your chance to help her, and a part of you wondered if she’d ever let anyone close enough to see the truth.

---------------------------------------

a/n: I hope this is up to standard lol, I won't be promising a next part. I'm not experienced enough to write these type of sensitive topics or just writing in general lol. i know the pacing is a little messed up hehe maybe I should disappear and never write again and delete this account idk

[lost-in-fandoms]

Sort of Mary Poppins/The sound of music AU in which Max is the tired and overworked dad and Daniel is the nanny.

Max finds Daniel through an online babysitting site and it's kind of suspicious about his incredible reviews, but Daniel doesn't ask as much as some other babysitters for two kids, and Max doesn't have time to look for someone else, so he calls him.

The things is Max's kids are like him: smart, stubborn, a bit mouthy, a little possessive, very protective of their spaces, their routine and, most importantly, their dad. They keep making babysitters run away, because they're "difficult": sometimes just out of the sole crime of being clever kids hard to entertain, sometimes because the person acts wrong, either to them or about Max. One time a babysitter closed the cats out on the balcony because she didn't want them "under her feet" and they made her life hell until she quit on the spot by the time bedtime came around.

So yeah, Max has a hard time finding new babysitters, but Daniel accepts to come for an interview.

The first thing Max notices about him is the big baggy hoodie, not very appropriate for a job interview in his opinion, the second is his smile. He's undecided on his judgment until Daniel greets him by saying "oh you are younger than me! and two kids already? You kept busy, mate" and Max decides Daniel is the most unprofessional babysitter he's ever met.

But he is busy, has a few very long days coming up at work, and he doesn't have time to look for someone else, so he hires Daniel. He tells himself it's just until the end of the week, and if Daniel doesn't run on his own, Max will fire him and find someone else.

Except that Daniel seems perfect.

The kids adore him. He is a bit too laid back for Max's tastes, doesn't really believe in being strict, but he can get the kids to do their homeworks, eat their dinner and even take a bath. When Max sits down with the kids for a few minutes before they go to sleep, they can't seem to stop gushing about how cool and fun and amazing Daniel is.

So Daniel stays.

Max doesn't see him too much at first, but then his work eases up a little and he's home more often, and he can hear how he interacts with the children, and he's so. kind. He's fun and cool and amazing like the kids say, but above all he's kind. He talks to them gently, treats them like real people, listens to what they say even if it's the most absurd made up scenarios.

And that makes Max feel things, because obviously Daniel is hot, he has eyes, he has noticed before, but watching him interact with his kids changes things.

Which is a problem because as lonely and touch starved Max is, he could never have Daniel like that, and why would Daniel want him anyway? Max has nothing to offer. So he pines, and he is ardently jealous of both the kids for getting to spend time with Daniel and Daniel for how much time he has with the kids, and how much they love him.

One time the kids get sick, and Max takes time off of work because despite needing the money his kids do come first, but Daniel comes to help anyway, and they have the chance to spend time together, and it's hard because they just click. Daniel makes Max feel a little less stressed, makes him laugh again in a way he feels like he hasn't done in a long time, and it's awful because it just makes Max fall harder.

And then Daniel's contract is up and Max asks him to stay and Daniel says no.

Max is heartbroken, is already dreading having to tell the kids, but Daniel tells him he will find someone else to work for because he doesn't want Max and his family to be work. He wants them, if they want him, to be family.

And then they kiss and live happily ever after xx

[ophelia-ophelian]

Research you

Mr. Silvair x reader

AN: okay listen— i have no clue if there is fanfiction out there about Homicipher at all so, I’m still trying to figure out how to do their language within our text. I am actually brainstorming a way to fix it😼 but I digress, I love this dude he’s so cute. Also I saw the poll of keeping in game language, but since this is longer I’m doing what @/dav-ulysses suggested and mixed it. maybe shorter blurbs will be in game talking

Warning: blood/syringe, suggestive but not much, experimental writing

As you wake up, you take a look around to try and remember where you are and what you were doing. You see the tattered walls that enclose every room in this magic world and swing your legs over the bed you were resting at. You hear a giggle in front of you and see Mr. Crawling sitting near the door staring at you through his hair. 

“Leave?” He squeaked out, tilting his head.

“No, I’m just going to go explore,” you respond as you open the door and leave. As you turn around, you realize he’s going to follow you as normal. Despite him being so scary and monstrous looking, he’s been more friendly and helpful than most people you’ve met since coming here. People? You give a thought, I can’t tell if I would say people or creatures? You brush off the thought and look around to see Mr. Chopped’s head laying on the counter in the main area with Hand resting next to him. 

You hear a hum as you turn to see Mr. Silvair, “Hello. You okay?” You smile back as an affirmation as he continues, “Want research you.”

You try to reply using their sounds, “Erm…Why research me?”

“Me interested human body. Me want research you,” a pause, “Your likeness previously human. You human here, yes?”

Ah, he wants to research humans. You knew Mr. Silvair was interested in them, given the amount of tools such as syringes, scalpels, and the like whenever he mentioned his research. You also recall his small musings about helping Mr. Chopped get a body of his own, but being warned about how dangerous it would be since it might completely change him and destroy his sentience. Mr. Silvair pulls you out of this rabbit hole of thoughts by clearing his throat and ushering you back into his research room. You smile as confirmation of letting him study you and you follow him into the back of his room. He beckons you to lay, and as you do, he begins talk to you about what he’s been learning. Given the time passed you tried to keep track of, you were starting to understand the language of this world, give or take a few words that you could fill in with context.

Once he is finished his mini rant to himself, he waves his hand to get your attention, “I want to test the difference between human blood and our blood, and what could possibly be leading to the rot of your body, the longer to stay in this ‘realm’ you talk about. Can you let me take your blood?” With an affirmative, he rolls up your sleeve and wipes down your skin with some type of wet cloth and gripping your bicep to make your veins protrude more. “If you do not like watching, do not look,” and with that, you feel the prick of his syringe and the coldness of your blood draining creep in. Before you know it, however, he pulls back and gives you a bandage to cover your bleeding. Looking up at you, he mentions “Humans do not heal like us, but given your time here, you seem to be adapting. It is irregular and I want to know why.”

He pulls back and puts his syringe behind him on a desk with a number of other liquids that you could probably guess would be other creatures’ blood. Some were colored like yours, and some were darker, but most seemed as similar to yours in color than you expected. Mr. Silvair notices this and talks about the difference, but since his back is turned to you, its harder to decipher what exactly he is explaining since you can’t use the crutch of reading his lips to try and match the sounds to the vocabulary words in your dictionary – which Mr. Crawling so kindly gave an empty journal one morning when you offhandly mentioned there are so many words to learn that you are losing track of and need to write down to remember them all.

Seemingly done with his lesson, Mr. Silvair turns back to you and places his hand over your chest. You flinch backwards, questioning what he’s doing and he tilts his head, explaining that he wanted to measure heartbeats since he knows all humans have them, but they are different for some reason. You reply with your knowledge from high school biology about hearts the best that you can and he nods.

“Thank you. Can I check yours to make sure that you are healthy?”

Taken aback, you figure its from a good intention as you remember that certain creatures here have different understands of emotions. Such as Mr. Hooded doesn’t understand liking people and fun and Mr. Crawling thinks being cute is wearing human eats like a cat. You give Mr. Silvair consent to a body check and he thanks you in return. He then places a hand on your chest, the other on your back, and instructs you to breathe deeply. As you do, he seems to be humming in approval and his hands change position across your chest, applying slight pressure each time. 

He does this a few more times before furrowing his brows, “Your heartbeat is getting faster. You okay?” He hums inquisitively before tilting your head up to meet what would be his eyes if not for the fabric covering it. “Its speeding up now that I’m looking at you. Could it be that I make you nervous?” He questions. Your eyes, face suddenly feeling hot, breaks eye contact and you stare at anything other than him. You admit, he is one of the best people here given he taught you so much when you barely understood “yes” or “no,” and continuously took care of and protected you. Not only that, he cares for Mr. Chopped, who is unable to do anything unless you or Mr. Silvair carry and help him. You also admit how charming he is with his long, silver hair, and his handsome face, and–

“I see,” he continues, leaning in and moving his head to look into your eyes again. You lean back, attempting once again to look anywhere other than him. He follows and soon, he is towering over you, slyly smiling as his hand that isn’t holding your face grasps one of your own hands, bringing it up to his chest. Though faint, he does have something resembling a heartbeat, maybe because he’s more human-like than the other creatures here, he might actually have a heart. He moves your hand over his chest till it lands opposite of where a human’s heart would have been. It makes sense, their world is very different and opposite than ours. “I also happen to relate to your heart, human. I enjoy your presence more than I initially expected. Most humans succumb to the festering of their bodies here, or are killed by the hostile others. But you,” he drops your hand on his chest and holds your other hand, bringing them together, and then closer to him, so that you are now mere inches apart, “are exceptional. You are strong, you are smart, you have resisted most of the effects of the festering. You, are special. Very special. I am interested in you. Moreover, I am interested on your body. How strong is it and what would cause it to break, I wonder?”

Feeling the heat in your face spreading through your body, embarrassment evident now, you gasp as he pushes you further with your back on the table. “How are your reflexes, I wonder,” he softly says as he slams a hand near your head, causing you to flinch. “Interesting,” he notes, “How would you react to different types of touching? You react differently based on the individual, I’ve noticed. But I’ve never tested myself. Let’s see…” He then traces ever so light lines up and down your thigh, noting your shivers. “Fascinating,” he continues, then he uses that same hand to caress your face, using his thumb to reassure you. As you lean into it, he hums inquisitively with hints of satisfaction before completely removing himself from you and turns to his vials of blood again, jotting down notes. Stunned, you continue to stare at his back mouth agape before he waves you off saying that he has concluded most of his research and will call upon you again once he needs you. You shift your position and get off the table, quickly readjusting your clothes and heading back out into the main area, Mr. Chopped still asleep with Mr. Crawling sitting outside the room.

“You okay?” he chirps.

“Yes, I’m okay,” you respond, giving him two peace signs which he reciprocates with a giggle.

Well, that was certainly something. 

Tag list: @kiatheinsomniac

[ffjj5]

Its been a while Jikookers, but let me tell you why...

Just a warning this post will talk about grief and death, so if you aren't in a place to want to read that right now please scroll past 💜

On October 11th my world changed and I am still working out how to be in it without my best friend. I have never felt loss and pain like I do right now but I am surrounded by amazing friends and family who will help me work this shit out. My beautiful friend of 20+ years died after a very short time in Neuro ICU following a burst brain aneurysm. No warning, just walking home from lunch with a friend on the 3rd October and she collapsed in the street, she never regained consciousness and died peacefully surrounded by her siblings, children and mum 8 days later on 11th October.

It's the little things I am struggling with, the coffee dates on my days off, the messages she would send just to say 'love you' and ask how your day was, the random phone calls because she was putting off gardening or housework, the messages to say have lovely trip the day before or after you went as she always got the date wrong, but she never forgot the important dates and would spend her last pound to get you a card to celebrate.

One of the reasons for me posting on here is because I want to recognise how being part of this fandom and being a Jikooker has had a profound impact on my grieving during this time. In life some people come along and impact on your life in a way they may never understand because you can't find the right words to tell them, but even from thousands of miles away their words bring you strength and comfort, a hug in the form of a voice message. Part of me working through this shitty grieving process has been to just say what is in my head into my phone and send the message to this person, with no expectation of a reply or words of wisdom, but she has never let me down. Even if its just to say 'keep going, it will get better', she has never allowed me to feel unheard.

So @dgtn please stand up and accept your virtual hug, until I can give you one in person 😊

A week ago we had a ceremony and celebration of life for my friend and it was beautiful, the sun shone, we cried, we laughed ( she loved to laugh and was always making us laugh) and I started on the next part of my grief journey, to learn to live without her but never forgetting her.

Everyday is a new day and some are harder than others, work is either a blessing of a distraction, or a curse, as my ability to deal with stress and the stupidity and pettiness of the general public is better some day then others. My work colleagues have been beyond amazing and the love and support they have given me has been beyond anything I could imagine. But I know my friend would be shouting at me to live my life now as it is too damn short and can be gone in an instant, so that is what I am doing. Next year is busy, first K-pop concert (Ateez, don't get me started on how excited I am), West end theatre show, and the icing on the cake is a trip to Niagara falls and NYC in March! Not to mention the impending BTS concert when that pesky military service is over for all our guys.

Music is an important part of my life and BTS' music has helped me massively, I have cried to it, I have sung my heart out to it, and I have sat in silence and just listened to it and taken comfort from their lyrics.

One song which has seen me do all three is Zero o clock, so what better way for me to sign off than with this...

[mimsypoo]

back in 2022 i left the community for reasons exactly like this, i realized how shallow many people were and how quickly they'd turn on me if i did something they didn't like, regardless of how long we'd been mutuals for. it really made me feel like the whole community was an elaborate farce built around giving others attention for the sole purpose of getting it back.

there are kind people in the community, and it would be disingenuous to pretend the community hasn't always had problems, but this disenfranchisement feels particularly depressing because it's so... cyclical. i'm a victim of it myself.

one becomes sad because no one wants to give attention, only to get it, and then you stop giving others attention because you assume they won't give it back to you. it sucks that people will take it for granted, but isn't it just exacerbating the problem to withhold your attention based on who will reciprocate? isn't that the exact problem in the first place???

it's difficult, don't get me wrong. if you've been left behind, your resentment is justified. i did leave because i was uncomfortable with everyone, with the behavior i saw, but holy shit if you're going to be in a community, you have to be in it. you have to be ok with giving attention to people who won't give it back to you. otherwise, why are you even giving it to them in the first place? are you setting yourself up for resentment and bitterness by classifying your kind acts by what you'll get out of them, rather than what you're giving?

if you're friends, that's a whole other story, but what i'm saying is... if you want the community to feel more connected and supportive, put in the work. sorry to be harsh, but complaining about how no one is paying attention to each other anymore and then also not paying attention to anyone other than your pre-existing friends helps NO ONE. not saying anon is doing this, idk them, but i know everyone complaining in the notes is not above this.

and i get it. i've been there, and i think it's a lot harder to feel compelled to participate in the community when no one is interacting with you- but that's why it has to start with you, not other people. you can't control them. we can go on and on about the way online culture has turned art circles into a cesspool of selfishness, but at the end of the day, we can only be responsible for ourselves.

ask yourself, "are you being the person YOU want to SEE in the community?" if not, then don't complain about your own absence.

nobody in the selfship community really acts like a proper community or even tries to interact with one another anymore.

im looking back at all these selfship ask games from 2018-2019 and back then you had tight knit groups of friends hyping up each other, sending each other f/o letters, headcanons or ask games and genuinely interacting with one another.

now in most selfship discord servers, it's mostly people talking to themselves in gushing channels and being ignored or nobody even bothering to participate in ask games on tumblr.

not to sound like a boomer but now the selfship community just feels like a clique. and barely even that because most people only care about their own selfships and never give anything back to others.

.

[shysublimecoffee]

Marinette receiving the Ladybug mantle was an absolute mistake. I watched the special, and honestly, gurl is doing the most—and for what? A guy? One dude, and she’s ready to throw her common sense out the window. Like, how has Hawkmoth/Gabriel not used his own son more often as leverage against her by now? That’s villainy 101, and he’s just sitting on it. Like for the amount of times I've seen this show rag on ChatNoir because of his weakness in romance when that Ladybug biggest weakness not CN lol.

At this point, I don’t even care about what Marinette’s going through. Whatever emotional investment I had in her? Long gone. She’s out here spinning lies on top of lies, desperately trying to hold together her crumbling Adrien-obsessed empire, and for what? She lost. Game over.

Now, if this were a story about a girl slowly getting corrupted, spiraling into villainy, and intentionally written as a downfall arc? No problem. That would’ve been a compelling narrative with a real lesson for kids about the consequences of obsession and dishonesty. But nope, instead we’re stuck with this mess where her choices make it harder and harder to root for her.

Marinette's speech at the press conference—“Ladybug holds the truth, she holds the truth” —had me scratching my head cause it sound more like a villain then a hero. Like, did the writers forget she’s supposed to have hero-like qualities? She’s meant to be the messenger, the symbol of hope, the hero. But how often does she actually display that in her own show?

Lately, it feels like being Ladybug is more of an obligatory chore for her than something that brings her real joy or fulfillment. Isn’t the whole point of magical girls to inspire, to help others, and to grow through their journey? Where’s the sense of accomplishment, the spark, the joy of making a difference? It’s like they’ve stripped her of everything that should make her role uplifting and meaningful.

I've seen here and there about how MC was never meant to come off that way or the writers are trying to make her more complex or how dare you do you dislike complex female characters or the most used it was never her intention to come off that way it was a mistake.

I want you to picture this without the music just dialogue cause i'm going to be clearcut about this.

Ladybug went to an orphaned, grieving child—one who had been locked away in solitary confinement, surrounded by nothing but white walls and being sensory deprived—and lied to him about his father being a hero. Let that sink in. Gabriel, who systematically abused his own son, was painted as a noble martyr by Ladybug.

Adrien, a kid who was finally starting to question his father’s authority, even beginning to tear down the oppressive image of the man who controlled and hurt him, is now trapped in an even tighter mental cage. After all, if Paris sees his father as a hero, a savior, how could he possibly feel justified in blaming or resenting the man? Gabriel is now a martyr in the eyes of the world, and Adrien is left to wrestle with guilt and shame for ever having cruel thoughts about someone everyone else idolizes.

Ladybug’s decision to perpetuate this lie doesn’t just protect Gabriel’s image—it messes with Adrien’s already fragile mind. Instead of helping him heal or giving him the freedom to process the truth, she’s reinforced the very chains Gabriel used to control him. It’s not heroic; it’s delusional and harmful, all in the name of preserving some twisted version of peace in her head.

You want me to feel pity for a girl who I'm sorry if I sound harsh to yall at the end of the day just want to keep the peace to fill her delusions that everything is going to work out in her part at the end when really she's just the worst type of coward there is when it comes to confrontations lmao. Accountability? She avoids them like they’re some kind of plague. It’s almost impressive how someone can masquerade as a hero while being utterly incapable of facing the hard truths. Lmao, sure, let’s all pity her.

Honestly, in the earlier seasons, at least Marinette seemed to feel bad about her mistakes. Now? She’s only gotten worse. I headcanon that receiving the Ladybug mantle or becoming the Guardian inflated her ego, giving her a power trip. With no proper mentor to hold her accountable and everyone automatically deferring to her leadership, who’s left to challenge her? Well maybe CN if he has the guts to do so but he'd rather cower into his shell lol.

In hindsight, I don’t think Marinette should’ve become Ladybug—not because she lacks the capability, but because the role itself seems to have worsened her as a person. Instead of growing into the hero I though she was meant to be, she’s devolved, losing some of the humility and self-awareness she had at the start of the series.

Let’s be real—we’re in Season 6 now, and we all know the writers aren’t going to make Marinette face any real consequences. The whole universe bends over backward to accommodate her. If you’ve seen Season 5, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

That said, I’ll give credit where it’s due: the special was fun. Yes, despite all my ranting, I actually enjoyed it because it was funny in its own way.

At this point, though, I’m only sticking around for Adrien and Lila. Honestly? I’m rooting for Lila to be the one to drop the truth bomb and expose everything. It would be chef’s kiss poetic if she ended up being the one to set things straight. Lmao.

P.s For anyone who thinks there is a dilemma to be had about the whole thing its really not lol rip the bandaid off.

It reeks of a megalomaniac in the making, making her come off like a gaslighting psychopath. Ironically, it reminds me of Gabriel—especially with the way he used similar wording. Honestly, are we sure Marinette isn’t Gabriel’s true daughter? Because the parallels are man.

I’m genuinely angry that she is the one everyone feels sorry for, and it’s only because the show is stuck in her perspective. If we spent even a fraction of the screen time on Adrien’s pain, it would make for a far more compelling story. It’s infuriating. Marinette isn’t some helpless sheep/damsel victim here—no one forced her into this role at gunpoint. She made her choices, knowingly and willingly. How dare she act like the weight of the world was thrust upon her without her consent? When she very much messed with a grieving kid here?

And yet, Adrien’s pain—real, tangible, and far more tragic—is constantly sidelined. He’s an orphan, being lied to by nearly everyone around him, adults and teens alike, and his suffering is treated as a subplot to Marinette’s endless drama. Why should the audience feel more for her than for the boy who’s lost everything? Why is his pain has to be centered to her??

This isn't a small mistake this has far reaching consequences if the show had the balls to do it to lie to the entire world over a man who terrorized on people fear.

If Adrien ever became a villain, I wouldn’t blame him. In fact, I’d understand and give him the free ticket to go ahead and cataclysm and burned the world .

[hard-core-super-star]

brought you together so nice [W.Maximoff + N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!natasha romanoff x sub!reader x switch!wanda maximoff

summary: natasha takes care of you until wanda comes back. needless to say, the witch is more than happy about the arrangement you both came up with in her absence.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> porn with very little plot but even more feelings; mommy + daddy kink; slightly more established dom/dub dynamics; a dash of pet play (as usual); bondage; gagging; soft domme nat + bratty wanda!!!!; vibrator use [R receiving]; praise + degradation + a dash of humiliation; hair pulling; spanking; aftercare

wordcount: 4.1k

a/n: well, well, well...guess who got too attached to another series? yup, me 😅 these two have taken up more of my mind than i originally thought so here is part three of this little series. i don't have a plan to make another full part, but i might mess around and write a few blurbs here and there. we'll see what happens. anyway, thank you for all your support, especially regarding this little series. i'm thinking of opening my requests back up until the start of the new year so keep an eye out for that ;) [commissions are still more than welcome, though!] okay, i'll stop rambling for now, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

Natasha could be sweet when she wanted to.

That was the first thing you learned after agreeing to become her and Wanda's submissive. 

The rules and details weren't too clear yet, the redhead promising to answer all your questions as soon as the Sokovian came back from her mission. Still, she did what she could to fill in the gaps of your knowledge, allowing you to ask her as many questions as you pleased before showing you, in great detail, what she meant.

Despite the cold exterior you'd learned to love, she was much softer with you than you'd ever imagined. Sure, she was still a mean domme at heart, but she wanted to show you heights of pleasure you'd never experienced before.

And she went to great lengths to guarantee it.

It quickly became clear to you how much she loved impact play. Even outside of play sessions, she would always come up behind you, landing a hard smack to your ass before pulling you into her arms. You didn't mind, even when she did it in front of the others.

(Although Tony did whistle at you guys once and promptly earned himself a punch to the stomach. He laughed it off but made sure to never tease the Widow about her behavior with you again.)

You knew there were a lot of things you didn't know or fully understand, but Natasha always seemed to find a way to make you feel more excited than nervous about it. It was almost funny how quickly her personality changed once she allowed you to see past her walls.

Sure, she was still a little mean and more than a little snarky (which is exactly how you liked her, if you were being honest) yet there was a softer, affectionate, side that started coming out more and more.

She told you it was simply because Wanda wasn't around and she wasn't allowed to "break you in" without her around. Maybe it was a silly excuse perfectly crafted to keep you on your toes, but you didn't really mind.

Well, except because you really missed Wanda.

Being without the witch was harder than you thought it would be, but the Widow kept you busy enough to forget the empty spot beside you in their bed.

Your bed.

That was the second thing Natasha made you learn. 

Yes, you were technically an addition to their relationship, but you weren't an outsider. You never were.

That was the third thing you learned.

Both Natasha and Wanda had their eyes on you from the very beginning. They loved each other, and their relationship made them happier than they could put into words, and yet they always felt something was missing. A third energy to keep them in check. To stop them from getting too rough, too mean with each other. To help remember how to be soft after spending so much time fighting with the world.

It was...strange, but you couldn't deny what they meant to you. The attraction you felt toward them had always been there and after Wanda opened that door...well, let's just say there was no going back.

You didn't understand how real that was until now.

Because somehow, someway, after carrying guilt you didn't even need to have in the first place, you were here.

You were theirs.

You were waking up in their bed with Natasha's arms wrapped tight around your waist.

A shudder ran down your body as the redhead's lips met your bare shoulder, peppering kisses across the skin. "Morning, detka. Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you reply as a smile forms on your face. "You're a fantastic cuddler."

"Shut up," she mumbles. There's a clear lack of annoyance in her words despite her attempts at sounding tough. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your grip on me begs to differ."

At your response, her hands move to grip your waist, her nails digging into your soft skin. The sensation makes you gasp, your back arching almost instantly. You can feel the redhead smiling against your skin. It hasn't been that long and she already knows your body better than you do.

"Sorry, were you saying something?" She says, taking advantage of your reactions to grind against your ass. "You seem a little distracted."

 It's a bit of a cruel game but it's one she loves to play with you. Truth be told, she loves playing with you, period. You're so different from Wanda, so much more responsive, more honest about your constant neediness.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you mumble, not so subtly grinding back against her.

Just because you were slowly learning the rules regarding your place didn't mean you didn't love pushing Natasha's buttons whenever you could. Which really only happened in the mornings and during aftercare. Those were the only two moments when the older woman allowed herself to be soft with you, to let you see behind the walls she'd expertly put up to keep everyone out. Everyone except you and Wanda, it seems.

Her voice remains low, straddling the border between a tease and a warning. "Is my good girl trying to be a brat?"

Your heart skips a beat at her words. At the mention of being her good girl. Of being hers.

After the rough beginning your relationship had, you never thought you'd be let into her heart in any way. And yet here you are. You're her good girl, her kitten, her darling submissive.

"No..." You trail off, trying to decide whether to behave or push her buttons a little more. Ultimately, your desire to be a little shit wins out. "...Daddy."

Natasha chuckles behind you, her hands moving from your hips and toward your breasts. She gives them a soft squeeze as her thumbs tease your hardening nipples. "Oh, kotenok, you woke up cheeky this morning, huh? You know what mouthing off like that will earn you, right?"

You do know. She's told you many, many times before, usually while she's praising you for being so good for her and drawing out orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated body.

However, she's never actually acted out any of her warnings. It's a good thing, you know that, and yet you can't stop yourself from wanting to see what it will feel like. To explore what that kind of submission will do to you.

"Yes, Daddy. I know."

She hums before going right back to kissing across your shoulders, nipping at your skin just to get you to arch into her teasing hands. "I see...you want to be punished, don't you? Want Daddy to remind you of your place until there's nothing else inside your mind?"

You're about to reply when you're interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y. "Miss Romanoff, Miss Maximoff has asked me to notify you of her return."

Your cheeks flush, even though the disembodied voice can't see what exactly you're up to this morning. At the very least, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is a lot less nosy than Jarvis ever was. Although, if you're being honest, you liked him better before he turned into a robot.

"I'm assuming she'll be at the Medbay for a while?" The Widow replies, her mind no doubt full of the things she'll do to you to pass the time.

"Yes, it seems she'll be there for the next half hour."

"Good. Thank you, Friday."

The AI doesn't reply and you can practically imagine her making a swift exit out of the room, leaving you to face whatever it is that the redhead has come up with.

"y/n..." Natasha purrs, her breath hot against your ear. "I have an idea. Why don't we give Mommy a nice surprise, hmm? Don't you want to be her pretty welcome back gift?"

You're not sure what being Wanda's "welcome back gift" will entail, but you can't deny your curiosity about it. Especially since the witch has no idea what you and her girlfriend have been up to. You have no doubt she has her suspicions, she is a mind reader after all, but it'll still be nice to surprise her.

You agree before you even know what you're doing, and Natasha wastes no time in springing into action.

In a matter of minutes, you go from lying comfortably under the covers to being spread out on your back, your limbs tied to each corner of the bed. You're exposed, vulnerable, and you love every second of it.

Of course, Natasha isn't satisfied with that. No, to top off the pretty sight you make, she places a deep, dark red ball gag between your lips. You shouldn't be surprised since, after all, you did ask for it.

"There we go," the redhead hums appreciatively, her eyes taking in the beautiful sight. "Now, just sit tight, okay, detka? I'll be right back."

You whine instantly, but she pays no mind to you, quickly making her way out of the bedroom and going to look for Wanda. You're not exactly happy about being left alone yet, there's nothing you can do. All you can do is throw your head back in frustration and wait for your lovers to return.

You're not sure how much time goes by, although there's no doubt in your mind that Natasha does her best to draw out their return just to mess with you, but eventually, they make their way back to you.

The sound of the door opening makes you practically vibrate with excitement, your hips wiggling from side to side without thinking.

"Well, would you look at that," Wanda says as she steps further into the room. "Looks like someone was having fun without me."

Natasha follows her in, standing behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist. There's something so domestic about the action that makes your heart clench.

"I had to get her ready for you, darling," the redhead replies as her chin finds the other woman's shoulder. "She looks good, doesn't she?"

"She sure does. I take it you worked out your issues?"

"We came to an...agreement, yes. I couldn't let you have all the fun."

Wanda chuckles, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a fond smile. There's no mistaking the fire in her eyes, though, the desire simmering below the surface. "And you said I was crazy for wanting her to join us."

The Widow grumbles, clearly not quite ready to admit her girlfriend was right. "You're still not off the hook, you let her believe you cheated on me."

"When are you going to let that go?"

"I'm not sure, maybe you should make it up to me."

Natasha's eyes remain on you but Wanda turns around, silencing her girlfriend's complaints with a fiery kiss. All you can do is watch, feeling left out and far too involved at the same time. You're slowly getting used to their competitive antics.

Their kisses turn desperate in nothing short of a few seconds, leaving you far too desperate and needy while you squirm around on the bed. They take their sweet time getting back to you, though, instead letting their hands wander over each other's bodies.

You'd love to complain but you're still gagged so talking is pretty much impossible. More than that...you can't say you're not loving the view. It makes you feel a little dirty, like you're watching an intimate scene you shouldn't be, and it brings a rush unlike anything you've ever felt before.

They know, because of course they know, and your obvious arousal only motivates them to tease you.

Natasha moves first, expert hands reaching for the hem of Wanda's shirt and lifting it over her head in an instant. "I missed you."

"Are you talking to me or my boobs?" The witch replies with a perfectly raised eyebrow.

"I'm talking to all of you."

"Nice save, 'Tasha."

"Shut up."

There's something comforting about the scene in front of you, even as your frustration builds. You've been with them before, but it's different this time. You can feel the change in energy, the easy chemistry that flows between all of you now that Natasha isn't trying to push you away.

"Come on, I think we've teased our good girl long enough," Wanda says, taking the redhead's hand and leading her toward the bed. "Isn't that right, sweetheart? You're feeling a little frustrated, hmm?"

You nod desperately in response, tugging at the rope that holds you down. Your actions only make both of your lovers chuckle.

"Look at her, she's drenched and we haven't gotten started yet," Natasha comments, her eyes trailing up and down your body like a predator assessing its prey.

"I'm guessing this means training's going well."

"She's a quick learner. A bit bratty sometimes, though."

The way they talk about you as if you're not a part of the conversation has you clenching around pure air. It doesn't help that the Widow is so accurate in her assessment of you. You love being submissive, being under their control, but you can't deny how much fun it is to disobey. To push against the boundaries she's set for you, not to defy her but to tease her. Maybe even test her a little.

It's far too fun.

"Is that right, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, even though your body language makes it clear how correct Natasha is. "I thought you liked being our good girl. Because if you don't, well...you know what happens to naughty girls, don't you?"

Of course you know. It was one of the first things the redhead taught you. Sure, the rules and terms weren't too fleshed out yet since Natasha had wanted her girlfriend to be a part of the whole exchange, but she'd gone over most things with you. Rewards, punishments, hard limits, all that stuff.

You're unable to tell the witch that, though, thanks to the gag in your mouth. Your incoherent mumbles seem to entertain her for a few seconds while Natasha sneaks off toward their closet.

Wanda's chuckle cuts through the air. Your attempts at convincing her you've been good clearly amuse her. "I know, baby, I know you like being good. Otherwise, Nat wouldn't be so attached to you."

"I'm not attached," the redhead grumbles.

A month ago, her words would have made your heart drop into your stomach. Now, though, you know she's only playing a part. She has no problem telling you how she feels outside of a scene, but when you're playing, when you're being their pet, she's right back to being mean. Right back to degrading you and humiliating you until you're riding the edge of pleasure and pain.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling."

"Oh, I will."

Their banter is borderline comforting. You've loved spending time with Natasha, but this, being with them and seeing their personalities come together, this is where you thrive.

Well, it's not like you're doing much. Then again, they like you most when you're like this. Vulnerable, at their mercy, and so obviously loving every second of it.

Wanda climbs onto bed with you, crawling over your body until she's hovering over you with a gentle smile that steals all your worries away. "'Tasha's such a liar, isn't she, sweetheart? It's okay, let her act like she's the big bad."

You want to laugh, but it's a little hard when she's leaning down to pepper kisses all over your face. The action is far softer than what you were expecting and it makes your heart soar.

You were ready for a rougher training session, for a trial run meant to show you what you had been missing in the witch's absence. But this? This is really good too.

Wanda continues her loving assault on your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw and toward your neck. You tilt your head back in response, earning a soft giggle muffled against your skin, as she kisses and nibbles all up and down your throat. There's no doubt in your mind that she's littering your skin with hickies and noticeable marks, but you find you really don't mind it.

The witch steals your attention long enough for Natasha to gather a few supplies before making her way over to you. You feel her set a few things down next to you, but you don't get to see what they are. Not that you really mind considering how busy your mind is.

"Stop hogging her attention, that's not very fair."

"It's not my fault you left her so fuzzy-headed. Poor girl didn't even stand a chance, huh?"

You shake your head, a few muffled whines making their way out of you.

Natasha chuckles as she shifts onto her knees next to you. Her hands find their way between you and Wanda's bodies, teasing your skin as she explores the territory she's spent the past few days claiming.

"Oh, please. This is nothing. You should've seen the state she was in last night."

The reminder makes you squirm in your restraints, trying to get closer to them to no avail. You know how desperate you look, how absolutely needy you are, but you can't find it in yourself to care. This is what you had been waiting for. To be completely theirs. To surrender to them and accept everything they were willing to give you. Sure, it was intimidating and yet it felt incredibly right.

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" Wanda responds, working her way down your body, expertly avoiding the areas where her girlfriend is touching you.

"You deserve it. Wasn't this your fantasy?"

"Maybe. It was hers first, though. Isn't that right, detka?"

The change in topic makes you blush. It shouldn't be surprising to hear that the witch had already known about your feelings for her but it's still a little embarrassing. At least she seems to enjoy it.

You nod, your movements slightly frantic and no doubt fueled by the feeling of her lips on your flushed skin. She takes her time dragging her lips up and down your inner thighs as Natasha teases your hardening nipples.

"Such a good little slut. I bet you're already so fuzzy. Just want your cunt played with and nothing else." The redhead distracts you with her words, leaving you completely unprepared for Wanda's continued assault.

You don't hear the thrumming sound of the vibrator coming to life, but you sure feel it against your sensitive clit. Your whole body shudders in response as your hips buck in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation.

Your reaction makes the witch laugh and she leans down to press a few more kisses to your thighs. "There you go, that's what I like to see."

Her words feel more like humiliation than praise and yet you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when it feels so good that it borders on painful.

"Excuse you, we were having a little chat." Natasha's tease is coupled with a firm grip in your hair as she tilts your head toward her. "I'll have to train you if you don't fix that attention span, pet."

"Be nice, Nat, it's not her fault she likes me more."

"God, you're such a brat, Maximoff." Her free hand leaves your body to land a sharp smack against Wanda's ass. "I'll put you in your place too, if I have to."

The witch hums in response, very clearly pushing herself back against the redhead's hand. "You know I'd enjoy it."

Natasha spanks her again and the sight has you bucking your hips faster as you search for more pleasure. You let out a string of whines, already feeling yourself on the edge of an orgasm. It's a little embarrassing how quickly you're reaching your limit but in your defense, you've been worked up ever since you woke up. You were bound to lose from the beginning.

"Don't tell me you want to cum already, sweetheart? We've barely gotten started."

You want to defend yourself, but your attempts are instant failures. Natasha seems to get off on how pathetic you sound, though.

"It's alright, kitten, why don't you go ahead and cum for me? Mommy hasn't earned her reward just yet."

Wanda opens her mouth to object but she doesn't get very far since the redhead goes right back to spanking her.

You're not used to seeing the witch in a slightly more submissive position. She always seem to straddle the border between being fully in control and immersed below Natasha's dominance. This change of pace is more than welcome, though.

The vibrator gets pushed harder against your sensitive clit and the pressure sends you over the edge almost instantly. You don't get a chance to warn them, all you can do is give in to the sudden pleasure as your body trembles beneath them.

They're both distracted by the sight of your orgasm crashing into you so suddenly. So beautifully.

"What a good girl," Natasha murmurs appreciatively. "You could learn a thing or two from her, Wands."

"Whatever." You miss the way the witch rolls her eyes since your eyes are more than a little blurry and there's a soft ringing in your ears. "It won't be my fault when she forgets her place, Daddy."

That earns her another spank, but she's too busy moving the vibrator away from your drenched cunt to care. You whine softly at the loss of contact even though you feel far too sensitive to take much more.

Apparently, you look as out of it as you feel because the older women take a few moments to let you catch your breath.

Wanda's hands gently stroke up and down your legs to keep you grounded while Natasha shifts closer, her hands reaching out to undo the ballgag. "How are you feeling, kotenok? Do you want to keep going?"

Your throat's a little dry, but you manage to form a reply. "I'm okay. Just need to catch my breath."

The Widow nods before reaching over to grab the bottled water on the nightstand. She helps you take a few sips of water while Wanda continues to caress your skin, both giving you as much time as you need to recover. It's such a small thing and yet it's a reminder of why you're so attached to them. Why you need them more and more with every day that goes by.

Your relationship with them might have had a bit of a rough start, but you couldn't imagine a better outcome. Couldn't imagine two better people to surrender your heart to.

"Someone's in a romantic mood," Wanda pipes up with a soft smile.

Her words cause an instant response in you and you feel your face grow warmer by the second. "Why are you in my mind right now?"

"Because your thoughts about me are so loud," she replies almost instantly. "Don't look so embarrassed, detka, I think it's cute."

"Shut up," you mumble, momentarily forgetting where you are and what you're in the middle of doing.

Wanda's smile turns slightly dark and her hand comes down against your thigh before you can even think about what you did wrong. "Where'd your manners go, huh?"

The sensation makes you shiver, but Natasha reaches a hand out to stop the witch from smacking your thigh again. "Time out, darling. I don't think we're quite ready to keep going."

You want to argue with her and yet you make no real effort to. As much as you might want to keep going, you can't deny how overwhelming it all was...and how desperate you are for some cuddles.

"Sorry," you mumble.

Wanda instantly shushes you as she uses her magic to undo the restraints keeping you tied down. "Nonsense, you have nothing to apologize for."

The second your limbs are free, Natasha's hands are on you again. This time, though, she merely maneuvers you onto your side so she's able to slide in behind you. The second her arms wrap around your waist, your shoulders let go of the tension they've been holding. 

Wanda wastes no time in joining the two of you, laying down in front of you and reaching up to play with your hair. "Just relax, we have all day to pick up where we left off."

"Don't rush her, little witch."

Natasha's words make you chuckle and you lean forward until you're practically buried in the witch's chest. "I'm okay, guys. I don't break easily."

A beat of silence goes by as they allow you to soak in the afterglow, in the feeling of their embrace.

But the Widow really can't help herself.

"Are you sure? Maybe we should test that out."

Her words are a tease, but none of you can deny your curiosity...or your arousal.

Needless to say, you spend most of the day tangled up in their bed.

Your bed.

With the two women who mean the absolute world to you.

[majoryeager104]

what about touya x a reader with family issues? you can choose what type of issues but they would understand each other so good ykkkkk butttt how would he found out if he didn’t know reader? i just love your touya content

thnx anonymous bestie and yess I love this idea 🫶🫶🫶

Summary: Touya gets into an argument with you, not realizing that he’d flesh out memories of your past. Warnings: language, toxic and abusive family traumas, angsty but it ends in a sweet way

a/n this is partially based off of my own experiences, but it was actually nice to write this, kinda helped me rant yk

“Do you realize how stupid that was!?”

“Im sorry”

Touya groaned in exasperation at your response, shoulders tense as the one sided argument rolled on. You’d nearly gotten hurt on a mission, again, and he had to swoop in and save you, again. He didn’t want to fight, but your apologetic deflections and blank expressions were making it harder for him to reach a conclusion. It was like you’d shut down under the pressure. It was worrying, not something he’d ever seen you do before, and it concerned him the way you loosely resembled some kind of abandoned puppy left in the cold. “Stop staring at me like that!” He snapped, rather loudly, biting his tongue as he saw you flinch, your eyes glassy as you nodded, blinking slightly as you attempted to look away, your eyes flickering back at him “please don’t yell, I’m s-“ you were cut off as he stepped towards you, grabbing your shoulders, a determined concern painted across his face. “Stop. Apologizing” he said sternly, his brows furrowed slightly as you managed a trembling nod, looking down to avoid his gaze. He sighed in defeat, all frustration now gone as he watched your tears fall from your now hidden eyes “Why are you crying?” He asked, softer this time, trying to coax you into decompression. You sighed, a shaky, shuddering breath, trying to calm your nerves “hey” he said, pulling you close, squeezing you against him “why’re you scared?” he asked quietly, rubbing you back as he rocked you back and forth, your trembling movements confirming his suspicions- you had looked like a deer in headlights because you essentially were one at that moment, but he couldn’t figure out why. Did he say something too harsh? Was it his face? Was that what scared you? Where was this coming from? After a few minutes, he got his answer, sitting next to you silently on the couch. Your parents had always been especially strict- you’d grown up knowing that anything you thought you had, they could take away. Privacy, friends, even your childhood toys, the few you had. And what was scarier than the way they’d treat the things you loved, was the way they’d treat you afterwards. Yelling, screaming, blaming and gaslighting to the point where you couldn’t handle any of it anymore. It was less of a physical abuse and more of a mental one, something you were yet to bounce back from. You’d shut down under this kind of pressure because you’d never known how to fight it, fawning under the mental torment of your fathers booming voice as he shouted over all your thoughts, leaving you frozen in place, and terrified. Or as Touya described, a deer in headlights. He sat and listened as you listed the isolated childhood you’d lived, how you’d never gotten to have friends, because every time you thought you had them, you’d be ripped back into the bubble of your parents idea of a firm well structured household. How they treated you like some type of soldier to be disciplined at 6, how they taught you to be “mature” by burning away any semblance of childlike wonder you had left at 7, how they belittled you into being “respectful” by resorting to shouting at you when you talked too often in public at 8, taking your stuffed dog, the only toy you had left at that point, and burning it in front of you to punish you for having the audacity to try and talk back at 9, making you into less of a person, and more of a mouse, if anything.

It sort of reminded him of his own traumas- the back and forth of Enjis affections, how he’d praise Touya one moment, and toss him aside the next. How Enji let him watch as Shoto took his place. How his punishments were of the same kind of isolation as your own. How he only had Natsuo to talk to, but even then he was left alone. Alone. That was it. You were both alone.

But he now supposed he was lucky, as now you had each other He nodded, holding you as he listened as you spoke- you were conditioned not to talk back, conditioned to crumble under the words of those who deemed themselves worthy of doing so, just because. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that…sorry, pretty” he said, pulling you closer, glad your tears were finally gone, your eyes still slightly pink, even in the dim light of the room as the two of you sat in silence for a moment

“you know…” Touya finally spoke up, finding something to say as you peered up at him, blinking in the low light. “…you don’t need to be scared of me…please don’t be…I’m not gonna do that shit to you, you know that?” You were silent for a moment as you watched him, his mouth opening again as he fully collected his thoughts “its okay though…you know how my childhood went…guess we’re both traumatized huh?” He chuckled, playing with your hair. “We were both just kids conditioned to be walked all over… so I know how you feel… I won’t yell at you like that again, I promise.” He smiled softly, pulling you impossibly closer. He couldn’t help but feel bad for how he’d put you through that, but he also couldn’t help but be glad he’d pulled you back from it. The way you bounced back from that suppressed fear made him hopeful- like maybe you wouldn’t have to fear it anymore, and maybe he’d be able to help you get to that point…or maybe that one day he’d be able to do the same with his trauma too. But he settled in, pulling you closer on the small space of the couch, because that was a story for another time, and right now he owed you some make-up cuddles.

(Man trauma dumping through fanfiction is peak 👌😌 and Touya being perfect once again was also peak )

[nenilein]

I said this before in my response to firey, but again, this is a misreading of how Sega markets Puyo. Puyo isn't being marketed to children, it's being marketed to millenials who remember Puyo/Madou from their childhoods. Lemme self quote here:

This is really a bit of a misunderstanding of how Puyo is marketed. It's really not a kids game (in fact, Quest has a disclaimer that you should only play it under the age of 14 under the supervision of an adult, because, it's, well, a gacha game, and gacha games are not made for kids at all), but a "nostalgia bait" game, aimed at millenials primarily. Kids are actually just a SUB-SECTION of Puyo's market, which, yes, Sega is happy to get into the fold to, but are not the primary focus. The primary focus are millenials who grew up with Madou/Puyo in the 90s, which is heavily reflected in the merchandising and the character polls. There's a reason why Arle, Schezo, Witch and Draco dominate the polls and merch the way they do.

The reason we don't get Madou 95 type stuff anymore is, again, as I said above, there was a HUGE backlash against Madou 95 back in the 90s. This is NOT what the Japanese fans want. They want cute slice of life shit with these characters, and they want jokes. I actually had a discussion about that with a Japanese fan a week or so ago, where said fan outright said they don't WANT Puyo to go harder on the lore, because it would ruin so many fandom-wide headcanons, it would be more of a hindrance than a help.

Puyo/Madou was never perceived as a plot-heavy franchise by Japanese fans, and plot-heavy installments always tended to be far less popular than plot-light, which makes it a miracle modern Puyo goes as plot heavy as it does and is a testimony to how much the writers care about writing plots with these characters. Back in the compile days, the most plot heavy entries in the series, such as Saturn Madou, tended to be sales failures that contributed to Compile's bankruptcy. The primary reason why Madou Saturn is such a rare game these days is because it sold very poorly.

Okay, now as for what you said...

Okay, so Sonic? Sonic has had SO many irredeemable and dark villains despite being the cool funny hedgehog game that it would make modern Puyo Puyo quake in its boots. 😭 Barring Eggman and Metal Sonic, lemme go over a few.

That's because Sonic, by Sega, has always been perceived as an international franchise, rather an a "Japanese franchise" and is, in fact, barely marketed in Japan. I am serious, I could barely even find Sonic merch on all of my trips to Japan, there's way more for Puyo, and according to Mizuki Hosoyamada, Puyo is FAR more popular within Japan than Sonic (But Sega considers itself an international company first, a Japanese company second, so they push Sonic far heavier).

Sonic is that way, because this is what Sega thinks international (especially American) audiences want! So they write these one-off pure evil villains because they think it brings the "cool" factor that brings sales in the US market.

Puyo, on the other hand, is their safe nostalgia-pillar for Japanese Millenials, so they want marketable characters for that that stick around for more than one game and can be used in fun slice-of-life stuff. Hence why the treatment is different.

If they were that evil, Satan, Ecolo, or Arle (or someone else) would be forced to destroy them (the ultimate fate of Yoggus and Dark Matter), or put them on the bus so they can't come back despite fan demand (Doppel Arle and Strange Klug).

DING DING DING! You're 100% spot-on!

Again, Puyo is the safe nostalgia-pillar! Making character just to murder them doesn't sell safe nostalgia! So they don't wanna invest in it! That shows SUPER well with the Drama CDs and novels, which actually DO have purely evil on-off villains that are disposed off at the end of the story (Ouroboros, the Soul-Sucking Doll, the Mist of Dreams. etc.) But those aren't an investment for Sega, they don't need to pay artists to design them and VAs to voice them, so they allow the writers to write them!

Quest is ACTUALLY averting this now with Thousand/Issen, a villain who is purely evil, goats about being purely evil, and is hated by everyone for being purely evil. The reason they can invest in them tho is because

A) they can make topical commentary on capitalism with them, which is something millenials DIG

B) The way Quest's story mode is structured gives Thousand PLENTY of space to escape into another dimension when things get rough, meaning they can survive even upon being defeated, especially since they are portrayed as a coward. This gives more wriggle room with them and allows them to STILL be a marketable gacha unit.

So yeah, the writers finding "outs" from Sega's "safe nostalgia" marketing strategy. It just requires some work-arounds.

More evidence that it's this- in Puyo 7, Ecolo was full on evil causing problems for fun, but in 20th he lost ALL his memories because there had to be an overarching plot. So he was reverted to just a nuisance like Satan that's safe for the rest of the game's continuity.

I think THAT specifically has a different reason, actually.

Ecolo was redeemed to fill out Ringo's roster of friends.

Suzuran is an INSANELY underpopulated setting (to the point the devs themselves have talked about it) and if they let Ecolo die, it would just be Ringo, Ris and Maguro there, and again, unless it's for Gacha, Sega is very averse to investing into designing new characters that might not get used much (hence why Meena from Puzzle Pop is the easiest, cheapest design to draw, model and animate you could possibly make). So bringing back Ecolo and renvisioning him as an honorary member of the Physics Club was more economical.

Not that I am complaining, because I absolutely love the dynamics between Ecolo and Ringo post-7, I think it adds the existentialism edge to the series that it was lacking up until that, personally. Ahahaha.

I am getting sick of the redeemable/not really evil villains. Yes I do like them but there's just so many now! It was far more varied in Compile!

[Post this and I will reblog with my rant about this subject]

shit, sorry I didn't post earlier. Yap away. Or... yap eway...?

[chibishortdeath]

Hmmm I kinda want to make a side blog for RPG Maker game development related things to be able to talk to more experienced people in that community, but at the same time I both don’t really think I’d get much attention and don’t want to accidentally spoil my own game (^^ ; ).

I have a rough story, concept doodles, a tileset, some character sprites, an enemy that walks around but can’t initiate battle yet (if I even decide to have a battle system), a couple rooms with some events, and a functioning run button, but I’m still lost on how to do much else at the moment. Especially since this program has the ability for scripting, meaning I’ll probably have to learn and actually retain another coding language.

So, I’m not very far at all lol. Idk how well that’d go over on the established fandom website, but eh.

[pepprs]

my depression is getting really really bad. like it’s been bad before but this is like… consistently really bad. like a long unending stretch for several weeks (and tbh months) now. to the point where no inoculation actually sticks (and im isolating myself from most of my inoculations anyway and feel unable to stop doing it even though i know it’s self destructive). im either helplessly unbearably miserable or numbing out on video games. i just don’t feel like it’s going to get better for me and i KNOW that is factually untrue but the feeling is louder than the knowledge and it’s just utterly immobilizing. ive been sinking in quicksand for 2 years.

[neverendingford]

.

[2024skin]

literally when I see women being frustrated with other women for staying with abusive men I feel like I'm watching the ouroboros. Like I get it, it happens to everyone, I've been there, but it's so self sabatoging.

[theood]

falling down an aba therapy rabbit hole god so many people just treat autistic people with fluctuating abilities as subhuman there is always a better workaround for kid AND parent but really its not about the parent here its abt the kid