#and then you just have to get up and keep living anyway because what else is there to do?

[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

[mariclerc]

Student's secret | cl16

Summary: what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas... or in a pole dance club.

Warnings: mental health issues, toxic work environment, mentions of drugs and sex, uni student reader, denigrating comments, angst and a little fluff at the end.

Living or spending a few days in the city of sin is a dream come true for many people, it is the place where everything is possible, where anything can happen: Luxuries and eccentricities are the order of the day throughout the year and rules and formalities are something banal and outdated for many.

For you it is like being in a cage, many people are forced to lead a double life, one where during the day they do their routine things but at night they try to do something to survive... Just like your case... Being a uni student, it is a bit difficult to bear the expenses of tutors, food, clothes, rent and other things, especially being exposed to the city of luxuries at such a young age, most of the time you find it difficult to make ends meet, so you decided to look for a job during the holidays to, at least, have enough money to make it to the end of the year without any problems... But you didn't think that what started as a temporary job would become a permanent job.

That's why you find yourself touching up your makeup backstage at a pole dance club, this has been your night life for 4 months straight, today is different because you have to work an extra day due to a special show.

Lila, your boss, enters backstage, drawing everyone's attention. “Listen up ladies, tonight we will have a special show because the F1 action in Las Vegas starts on Wednesday, so we will only be open today - Tuesday night, and tomorrow.” she said with a cocky smile on her face. “Plus we have some special people in the audience tonight, so get your shit together or else... You'll be dealing with me.” she said.

Most of the time when there is a big event that paralyzes the city you work only 3 days and the other days you use to rest, but this is enough because you assume from what Lila says, that the drivers will be making an appearance at the club tonight. Plus your shift is only supposed to be Thursday through Sunday, not Tuesday.

You sighed. “I don't want to do this Lila...” you say softly.

She stops and turns her gaze to you. “What do you mean? You know you have a contract, right?” she spats.

“But this is not my shift and I feel too uncomfortable and exposed.” you say. “This was supposed to be a summer-only job, and...” you were going to continue but she interrupted you.

“But anyway, you signed the contract and besides, you need money for your stupid shit, right?” she said and you blinked multiple times. “So you're gonna put on a good show tonight or else I'll make you spend the night with one of the patrons, was it clear to you?”

The patrons are the ones who keep the club afloat, they invest a lot of money in you and in drinks, drugs and so on. In the few months you've been there you've witnessed some pretty... nasty stuff, drugged up coworkers forced to have sex with one of these guys so they can give them some extra money. Luckily for you, you haven't been forced to do anything similar, you just dance and do the occasional VIP service, extra tip and that's it, but seeing the consequences of not wanting to work today, you have to put up with it.

“Okay miss...” you murmured shyly.

Lila smiled. “Everyone, be ready for our customers tonight.” she said and continued walking, you sighed.

You take a deep breath, wiping away a tear that came out of your eyes, smudging lightly your mascara, before stepping into the spotlight. You and your other companions go out on stage, you notice how the patrons are sitting up front with their drinks and cigarettes, as usual, but you notice new faces; most of the drivers are sitting in the VIP booth, each one sitting alone or with his colleagues. The music starts, and you begin your routine, trying to mask your emotions with your performance. As you dance, you catch glimpses of a driver who's watching you intently, his expression shifting from amusement to concern.

After finishing your routine, you watch as your boss motions for you to go the VIP booth number 16, you walk over there, your heart pounding in your chest. The driver is smiling, but there’s a hint of worry in his eyes.

He's smiles gently. “Hey there, that was an incredible performance up there.” he says softly.

“Thanks, I... I appreciate it.” you say while forcing a smile.

You notice the way he studies you, his gaze lingering on the redness in your eyes and the light smudge under it. He hesitates for a moment before speaking again... “Are you okay? You seem… a bit upset.” he asks you softly.

You sighed. “It’s just been a long night... Nothing to worry about.” you whispered as you lied.

He nodded. “I can imagine, this place looks so intense.”

You look around the club, feeling the weight of the atmosphere pressing down on you.

“It can be... Overwhelming at times.” you say quietly.

The music shifts to a slower tempo, creating a more intimate atmosphere around your conversation. You stand before Charles and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Charles watches you with a mix of excitement, care and curiosity, his coloured eyes sparkling under the dim lights.

He smiles gently. “So, what do you say, little star? Just a little private dance to lighten the mood?” he says softly while calling you by your stage name.

“I mean... If that's what you want...” you say a little hesitant.

He nods reassuringly. “Trust me, it’ll be fun... Just be yourself.”

You feel a rush of adrenaline at his words. You’ve performed many times before, you've even done private dances several times with not so nice customers, but this feels different—more personal and somewhat intimate. You nod slowly, trying to shake off your nerves.

“Okay... I'll do it.” you say softly.

Charles grins, and you can see the excitement in his eyes. You step back slightly to create some space, allowing yourself to get into the right headspace... The music shifts to a sultry tune, and you begin to move to the rhythm.

As you dance, you focus on Charles, letting the music guide your movements. You sway your hips and let your body flow with the beat, feeling the tension ease away with each step. Charles leans back against the plush booth, watching you intently.

“You're incredible...” he whispers.

His words send a thrill through you, and you find yourself getting lost in the moment... You let go of any lingering doubts and worries and you just embrace the performance. You glide closer to him, allowing your body to move in sync with his gaze.

You continue your dance, incorporating playful movements that make him laugh and smile. The connection between you feels electric, and you find yourself enjoying this more than you anticipated.

“How's this for a private dance?” you asked him playfully, using your confident facade.

He grins. “It's perfect... More than I expected...”

You lock eyes with him, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away. The laughter and chatter from other tables become a distant hum as you focus solely on him. As you move closer again, you notice how he leans forward, captivated by your performance. You playfully run your fingers along his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. You continue dancing, letting your body express what words cannot. You swirl around him, feeling free and alive as you lose yourself in the rhythm. The music pulses through your veins, and you can see the admiration in Charles' eyes as he watches you.

“You're amazing... This is better than I imagined.” he says with a low voice.

You smile at his compliment, feeling a rush of confidence surge through you, customers rarely compliment you or the girls. You step closer again, brushing against him as you dance, feeling the warmth radiating from his body.

As the last notes of the song fade away, you take a deep breath and step back, allowing yourself to bask in the moment.

He clapped softly to you. “That was incredible! You really know how to put on a show.”

You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. The energy between you is palpable as he leans forward slightly.

“I think that deserves a special tip...” he says while grinning. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crisp stack of bills, holding them up with a playful glint in his eye. “What do you think? Is this enough? Or do you need more than that?” he says softly.

Your heart races as he counts out a hefty amount of cash that was wrapped in a paper before handing it to you with an appreciative smile. You wouldn't believe it, it was a big tip.

“Wow! Are... Are you serious?” you said surprised. “I can't take it, I'm...” you were about to say but he gently stopped you.

He smiled. “Don't say that, you deserve it! You deserve every bit of it for that amazing performance.”

You take the money from him, feeling a mix of gratitude and disbelief. It’s more than you expected for just one dance. “Tha... Thank you so much! This really means a lot to me.” you say softly.

“You earned it. And I hope this helps with whatever you're working towards.” He said sweetly and that made you stop.

“How... How do you know that...” you said in a low voice.

He looked around the club and then looked at you before slowly approaching you.

“There's no need to say anything, little star... Your gaze, those lost little eyes told me everything I need to know.” he said softly in a whisper. “Sometimes a look is enough to know a little bit about a person.” he said softly and you were shocked, you never thought that an F1 driver would be so empathetic and deeper.

“Wow, that was... Yeah...” you murmured. “Thank you again...” you say and pause, you still don't know his name.

“Oh, I'm Charles Leclerc.” he said formally. “But just call me Charles.” he smiled.

“Y/n” You answered him by giving him your name. You were going to tell him something else, but the bell indicating that you and the girls had to go backstage ruined the moment.

He smiled. “Well, I think they need you in there.” he said softly. “I really enjoyed this evening, the dancing was spectacular.” he said and you blushed.

“Y/n! Get your fucking slutty ass here!” your boss yelled harshly and you shook your head.

“I have to go, but thanks again Charles.” you said softly.

“It was nothing. Take care y/n, I hope to see you soon.” he said softly and you walked backstage.

As you entered your small dressing room you looked at the amount of money Charles had given you and a tear ran down your cheeks. You had never received such good treatment from a customer, the warmth and security of his person contrasting with the coldness and toxicity of the place. You sighed and put the money in your briefcase, thankful that someone had noticed your tearful gaze despite not saying anything about the anxiety and fear that constantly fill your life.

***

The weeks following your encounter with Charles unfold in a blur of routine and reflection. You find yourself back in the familiar rhythm of your daily life, but the vibrant energy of that night lingers in your mind like a bittersweet memory. The club’s atmosphere has shifted, and the pressures of your job weigh heavily on you.

You're sitting on your bed, surrounded by textbooks and notes from your psychology classes. The sunlight filters through the window, but it feels dimmer than usual, you flip through your notes absentmindedly, thoughts drifting back to that night.

“It was just one night… why can’t I stop thinking about it?” you say to yourself, while flipping through your notebook.

You recall Charles’s laughter, the way he looked at you with genuine interest and care, and the way he made you feel seen. But as days turn into weeks, that memory becomes a painful reminder of what you’re missing in your life.

You shake your head, trying to focus on your studies. But the thoughts keep creeping back in—what if you had exchanged numbers? What if you opened up to him and told him what you were going through at that very moment it didn't matter if he was a complete stranger? The “what ifs” swirl around like a storm in your mind... You couldn't fall in love with a stranger, much less an F1 driver, you're not supposed to let anyone into your life.

A few nights later, you’re back at work, but the energy feels different. The once vibrant atmosphere has turned toxic—patrons are more aggressive, and the laughter that used to fill the air is replaced with tension and judgment.

You stand behind the bar, pouring drinks for a group of rowdy customers who seem to take pleasure in belittling the staff. You try to brush off their nasty comments, but each jab feels like a weight added to your already heavy heart.

One of the customers spoke. “Hey you, why don’t you dance for us? We paid good money for this place! You little bratty bitch.” he said in a slurring way.

You force a smile, but inside, you feel a surge of anxiety, you want to disappear. The memory of Charles’s encouragement clashes with the reality of your current situation. You glance around, noticing how other staff members are also feeling the pressure from the patrons, they're demanding lately.

“May... Maybe later! Right now, let me get you another round of drinks.” you say while you attempt to light the mood.

As you turn away, you catch a glimpse of a co-worker, Sarah, who looks equally drained. She gives you a sympathetic nod, and you can tell she’s feeling the strain too. It is causing a lot of damage to all the girls, especially mentally, you have already seen several of them taking drugs in the bathrooms and backstage.

Sarah approaches you. “It’s getting worse here girl… I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” she says quietly while taking a cigarette out of her pocket.

You sigh, knowing exactly what she means. The club that once felt like an escape is now suffocating. Every night drags on, filled with rude customers and an overwhelming sense of dread. Your mental health begins to deteriorate as the pressure mounts.

Days turn into weeks, and you find yourself dealing with the weight of your job and studies because it feels unbearable. You spend more nights lying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling as thoughts spiral out of control. Obviously, in the midst of all the chaos, you became a bit of a F1 fan, especially keeping an eye on the green-eyed boy who had been so nice to you that night at the club, somehow, even though he was a complete stranger to you at the time, you felt so happy to see him shine in what he likes — something you wish would happen to you too.

One particularly rough night at work, a big fight breaks out between two patrons. The chaos erupts around you as glasses shatter and voices rise in anger, you feel frozen in place, overwhelmed by your anxiety and nerves.

Weeks pass, and the club continues to drain you. But you find solace in small moments—watching sunsets, reading books—but they’re fleeting against the backdrop of your reality. Your mental health spirals further as feelings of isolation creep in.

Tears well up in your eyes as frustration boils over. You wipe them away angrily, feeling trapped between the joy of the memory shared that night with Charles and the pain of your current life. And it shouldn't be affecting you so much, he was just a costumer...

***

The atmosphere is electric as the club transforms for the Christmas season, twinkling lights adorn the bar, and festive decorations create a warm ambiance amidst the usual chaos. You stand in the backstage, heart racing, preparing for one last performance before your well deserved break from the club and your classes. The familiar sounds of laughter and chatter filter through the curtains, but today, they feel different.

You are in the backstage, pacing nervously as you go over your routine in your mind. The stage is set, and the crowd buzzes with excitement. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

You take a deep breath. “Just one last performance… You can do this.” you say in a whisper to you.

As the music starts and the spotlight shines on you, you step onto the stage. The audience erupts in applause, but your eyes scan the crowd anxiously. You catch glimpses of familiar faces—some co-workers, and regular patrons, nothing new—but then your heart skips a beat. There he is—Charles, standing near the front, his smile bright against the dim lighting.

Your breath hitches in your throat as a flood of emotions washes over you. Memories of that night come rushing back—the laughter, the slight connection, the promise of something more. But doubt creeps in, and you feel a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach...

“Why is he here? Is this just a fleeting visit? Or is it for something else?” you think, you can't help but wonder that.

You force yourself to focus on the performance, pouring your heart into every movement. As you dance, you try to ignore the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind... But each time you glance at Charles, you feel an overwhelming mix of hope and fear.

The performance reaches its climax, and the crowd cheers enthusiastically. You finish with a flourish, feeling a rush of adrenaline as you take your final bow. The applause reverberates in your ears, but your gaze remains fixed on Charles.

As you step offstage, adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you navigate through the backstage area toward the bar. You can feel Charles’s presence behind you, and a mix of excitement and dread builds within you.

“Whoa! That was incredible! I’ve missed seeing you perform, little star.” he says as he approaches you with a smile on his face.

His voice sends a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you’re speechless. You take a moment to absorb his presence—his familiar warmth, his genuine admiration.

“Tha... Thanks... It's been a while since I felt that good on stage.” you say shyly.

You glance around nervously as other staff members and Sarah pass by, some offering nods of recognition to Charles. You can’t help but feel exposed under their scrutiny.

“Do you want to talk somewhere quieter?” he says softly while noticing your discomfort.

You hesitate for a bit. “Yeah... I guess that would be nice.”

You lead him to a small break room at the back of the club—a space filled with mismatched furniture and remnants of holiday treats. The atmosphere feels intimate compared to the bustling club outside.

Once inside, the door closes behind you, muffling the noise from the main area. You lean against the counter, arms crossed defensively as you try to gauge his intentions.

“So, ehm... What brings you back to Vegas? I thought you were busy with racing and all that stuff...” you asked him cautiously.

“Yeah, well, I was busy... but I couldn’t stop thinking about you, I wanted to see how you’re doing—like, really doing.” he sighed and smiled at you.

His sincerity strikes a chord within you, but doubt still lingers. You remember how hard it is to open up before and how vulnerable it made you feel.

“Well... Things have been tough lately… work has been overwhelming...” you say while biting your lip.

Suddenly everything you have experienced in the last few months comes to your head, the humiliation, the mockery, the objectification, anxiety, the sacrifices you make to make ends meet and have enough money for everything you need and, without expecting it, your eyes fill with tears. A part of you longs for validation and support, but another part fears being let down again.

“Oh, don't cry little star, it's okay...” he says while he holds you in his arms and caresses your hair. “It's so okay, let it out.”

You sniffled. “It’s just that… I don’t know if I can trust anyone right now... Everything feels so chaotic; my life feels so chaotic and messier.”

Charles looks down at you, his expression earnest and understanding. “I get that... Trust takes time, but I’m here for you if you want to talk about it, I want to help.” he wipes a tear form your cheek.

You feel a flicker of hope ignite within you at his words. The vulnerability in his voice reminds you of that connection you shared—the one that felt so real yet so distant now.

“It’s hard for me to open up…” you say in a whisper.

“You don’t have to share everything all at once with me. Just know that I’m here to listen whenever you're ready, okay?” he says softly.

His patience reassures you, but fear still grips your heart. You remember how easily things can change—how quickly trust can be broken.

“I’ve been feeling lost… like I’m stuck in this cycle that I can’t escape.” you say while looking down.

He nodded. “And it’s so okay to feel that way, we all go through rough patches. What matters is that we can still find a way out... together.” he smiles at you.

You meet his gaze again, searching for sincerity in his eyes. There’s no judgment there—only care, understanding and compassion... Something you've been needing to find for a long time and now a stranger is giving it to you.

***

As the days rolled on, the festive spirit of Las Vegas enveloped you both. The city transformed into a dazzling wonderland, with sparkling lights adorning every corner and the joyous sounds of holiday celebrations filling the air. You and Charles made the most of your time together, exploring the vibrant culture and indulging in the culinary delights that the city had to offer.

On Christmas Eve, you found yourselves in a cozy café nestled within one of the extravagant hotels. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of baked goods, creating an inviting atmosphere. You sat across from each other, warm mugs cradled in your hands, and the soft glow of fairy lights twinkling around you.

As you sipped your drink, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort in his presence... Charles had a way of making everything feel lighter, as if the burdens you carried were shared between you. But there was still a part of you that hesitated to delve deeper into your past, to reveal the struggles that lay beneath your cheerful façade.

“So, do you have any special traditions for Christmas?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

You smiled softly, feeling a pang of nostalgia. “Ehm... Not really, to be honest.” you admitted, looking down at your mug. “My family doesn’t celebrate much anymore... It’s just… complicated.”

He leaned in slightly, his expression encouraging. “Complicated how? If I may know.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. “Well, my family never really supported my choice to study psychology.” you began hesitantly. “They always thought it was a waste of time, they wanted me to pursue something more… practical.”

Charles nodded, his face reflecting understanding. “That must have been hard for you.” he said gently.

“It was.” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve always wanted to help people, to understand their emotions and struggles. But when the people closest to you don’t believe in your dreams… it’s hard not to feel like you’re on the wrong path.” you say softly.

He reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours in a reassuring gesture. “You’re not on the wrong path, little star. You’re doing something incredibly important.”

You appreciated his support, but the doubt still lingered in your mind. “It’s just… I didn’t have their financial support either.” you confessed, feeling vulnerable. “I’ve had to work multiple jobs to pay for school, including the job at the pole dance club... It’s so exhausting.”

Charles listened intently, his brow furrowing slightly as he absorbed your words. “That sounds really tough, I can’t imagine how isolating that must feel.”

You nodded, grateful for his empathy. “It is isolating.” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve lost touch with friends who didn’t understand my commitment to my studies. It’s like I’m in this bubble where no one else really gets what I’m going through.”

He squeezed your hand gently, grounding you in that moment. “You’re not alone now.” he reassured you. “I’m here for you, and I want to understand what you’re experiencing.”

His sincerity washed over you like a warm wave, encouraging you to share more.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in this cycle of loneliness.” you confessed, tears welling up in your eyes. “I want to connect with others, but it’s hard when I feel so different from everyone else.”

Charles leaned closer, his voice soft and steady. “You’re not different in a bad way; you’re pursuing something meaningful. And those who truly care about you will see that...”

You looked into his eyes, searching for reassurance. “Do you really think so?”

“I know so.” he replied firmly. “You have so much passion and drive. That’s something to be proud of.”

As the conversation continued, you found yourself opening up more than you had anticipated. You shared stories of late nights spent studying, the moments of self-doubt that crept in during exams, and the fleeting joy of helping others during your internships.

His belief in you sparked something deep within—a flicker of hope that perhaps you weren’t as alone as you had felt for so long... The more you talked, the more liberated you felt from the weight of isolation that had clung to you for years.

***

The week leading up to New Year’s was always a time of reflection, a time when the world seemed to pause and take stock of the year gone by. The air was crisp, and the city sparkled with festive lights, but inside your cozy apartment, it was just the two of you—Charles and you—wrapped in a bubble of warmth and anticipation.

You had decided to spend the week together, a decision that felt both thrilling and terrifying. You could feel the chemistry bubbling between you—an electric charge that seemed to hum in the air whenever he was near, but with that chemistry came the fear of what it would mean if you let yourself fall for him.

As the sun began to set on the last day of the year, you and Charles found yourselves sprawled on the couch, surrounded by snacks and half-watched Christmas movies. The soft glow of fairy lights twinkled around the room, creating an intimate atmosphere that made your heart race, you glanced sideways at him, his profile illuminated by the flickering light from the TV. He looked so relaxed, his hair slightly tousled and a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he focused on the screen.

“Do you ever think about New Year’s resolutions?” Charles asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

You turned your head to look at him fully. “Sometimes.” you admitted. “But I’m not very good at keeping them.” you giggled.

He chuckled softly. “Same here, I usually start strong, but by February, I’ve forgotten all about them.”

“What do you think this year’s should be?” you asked playfully, trying to keep the conversation light.

He pondered for a moment, his brow furrowing adorably. “Maybe something like… be more spontaneous? Or try to embrace change?”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Embrace change? That sounds deep!”

“Yeah, well.” he said with a shrug. “I think it’s important to be open to new experiences, you never know what could happen.”

His words struck a chord within you. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was hinting at something more—something between the two of you. The thought sent a shiver down your spine.

“What about you?” he asked, turning the question back to you. “What do you want for this coming year?”

You hesitated, your heart racing as you considered your answer. Part of you wanted to say something lighthearted, but another part yearned for honesty.

“I guess… I want to be braver.” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Braver?” he echoed, his gaze intense as he studied your face. “In what way?”

You swallowed hard, feeling exposed under his scrutiny. “In life… in love.” you admitted, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’ve always been scared of getting hurt, so I hold back.”

He nodded slowly, understanding washing over his features. “That makes sense.” he said softly. “It’s hard to let someone in when you’re afraid of what might happen.”

You felt a connection deepen between you in that moment—a shared understanding of vulnerability that made your heart ache with longing.

“Exactly.” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “But I think… maybe I want to try.”

Charles’s expression softened as he leaned closer to you, his eyes searching yours for something unspoken. “Try what?” he asked gently.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your words hang in the air between you. “Try to let myself feel more… to let someone in.” Your heart raced as you said it, the truth spilling from your lips before you could stop yourself.

He held your gaze steadily, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The world outside faded away until it was just the two of you—two souls intertwined in a moment of raw honesty.

“I’d like that.” he said finally, his voice low and sincere. “I’d like to be that person for you.”

A rush of warmth flooded through you at his words, but with it came a wave of fear... What if this was too much? What if falling for him meant risking everything? You pulled back slightly, breaking eye contact as uncertainty clouded your mind.

“Charles…” you started, but he interrupted gently.

“Hey.” he said softly, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sent sparks through your skin, and you shivered involuntarily at his closeness. “We don’t have to rush into anything, I just want you to know that I’m here.”

His sincerity made your heart swell and ache all at once. You wanted so desperately to lean into him—to let yourself fall into this beautiful connection—but fear held you back like an anchor.

“Can we just… take it slow?” you asked quietly, your voice trembling with vulnerability.

“Of course we can do that.” he replied without hesitation. “I’d never want to push you into something you’re not ready for.”

You smiled gratefully at him, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. Maybe this was enough for now—just being here together, exploring this slow burn without any pressure or expectations.

As the evening wore on and the clock ticked closer to midnight, you found yourselves lost in conversation—sharing stories about childhood dreams and future aspirations, laughter punctuating each moment as the bond between you deepened.

At one point, Charles reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The warmth of his touch sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and for a moment, all your fears faded away.

As midnight approached, the anticipation in the air grew thick with excitement. You settled back against the couch, feeling giddy as Charles pulled out his phone to check the time.

“Just a few minutes left!” he exclaimed with a grin.

You couldn’t help but smile back at him; his enthusiasm was infectious. He glanced at you then, his expression softening as he leaned closer again.

“Are you ready?” he asked softly, his eyes locked onto yours.

“For what?” you asked teasingly.

“For whatever comes next.” he replied earnestly.

Your breath caught in your throat at his words—so simple yet so profound. In that moment, everything felt possible. You nodded slowly, feeling a rush of courage wash over you.

“Yes...” you whispered.

As the countdown began on TV, excitement bubbled between you like champagne ready to overflow. With each passing second, your heart raced faster until finally…

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

The room erupted in cheers from the television as confetti fell on-screen and fireworks lit up the sky outside your window. But all that mattered was Charles—his eyes sparkling with joy as he turned to face you.

And then it happened: he leaned in closer and pressed his lips against yours—a soft yet electrifying kiss that sent shivers down your spine. It was tentative yet filled with promise; a beautiful beginning wrapped in hope and possibility.

Time seemed to stand still as you kissed him back, savoring the sweet taste of new beginnings and uncharted territory. In that moment, all your fears melted away as if they had never existed at all.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed, Charles smiled at you—a smile that lit up his entire face and made your heart soar.

“Happy New Year, petite étoile.” he murmured softly. (little star)

“Happy New Year charlie.” you echoed, feeling lighter than air as hope blossomed within you—a hope for what this year might bring and for the journey ahead with him by your side.

And as fireworks exploded outside your window, illuminating the night sky with vibrant colors, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe—just maybe—you were ready to embrace whatever came next together.

***

The days turned into weeks, and your bond with Charles deepened in ways you hadn’t anticipated. Each moment spent together felt like a new adventure, filled with laughter, shared secrets, and the warmth of companionship.

One evening, after a delightful dinner at a cozy restaurant, you found yourselves walking along the waterfront, the moonlight shimmering on the water's surface. The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of blooming jasmine, you felt a sense of peace wash over you as you strolled side by side, your fingers intertwined.

As you walked, Charles suddenly stopped, turning to face you with a serious expression that caught you off guard. “Can we talk about something?” he asked, his voice low and earnest.

Your heart raced slightly as you nodded. “Of course babe! What’s on your mind?”

He took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us—about how much I care for you. You mean more to me than I can express.” he said, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I want to take care of you in every way possible.”

You felt a flutter in your chest, unsure where this conversation was leading but intrigued nonetheless. “What do you mean?” you asked softly.

Charles stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “I want to be your sugar daddy.” he said, his voice steady yet filled with emotion. “And I know it sounds weird, but it's not in a bad way, I mean, I want to support you while you study psychology, to help you leave behind all the stress and worries that weigh you down.”

Your mind raced as you processed his words. The idea of having someone like Charles in your life—someone who wanted to provide for you, who believed in your dreams and aspirations—was both exhilarating and daunting.

“Are you serious?” you managed to ask, your heart pounding.

“Absolutely!” he replied without hesitation. “I want us to build a life together. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I believe we could be so much more than what we are now.” He paused, gauging your reaction before continuing. “I want you to move out of Las Vegas and come with me to Monaco.”

The mention of Monaco sent a thrill through you. The thought of leaving behind the familiar chaos of city life for a place known for its beauty and luxury was intoxicating, but it also brought a wave of uncertainty.

“Monaco? That’s such a big step, Charles.” you said, trying to process everything. “But... What about my studies?” you asked softly.

Charles smiled gently, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Of course you can continue your studies there! They have excellent universities, and I’ll make sure you have everything you need to succeed.” he said softly at you.

His words resonated deep within you, igniting a spark of hope and excitement that had long been dormant. The idea of pursuing your passion for psychology without the burden of financial stress felt like a dream come true.

“But what if it doesn’t work out?” you asked, vulnerability creeping into your voice. “What if I can’t adjust?”

Charles cupped your face in his hands, his gaze steady and reassuring. “Life is about taking risks, isn't it? And I believe in us—more than anything else in this world! I promise to be there every step of the way, you won’t be alone; we’ll figure it out together.”

His sincerity washed over you like a warm wave, and for the first time, you felt the weight of your worries begin to lift. The thought of embarking on this journey with him filled you with a sense of possibility.

“Okay.” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m willing to try.”

A radiant smile broke across Charles’s face as he pulled you into his arms, enveloping you in warmth and safety. “You won’t regret this, mon amour.” he whispered against your hair. (my love)

In that moment, everything felt so right to you... The world around you faded away as he held you close, and all that mattered was the connection between the two of you—a bond that had grown from two strangers into something deeper and more profound...

As the stars twinkled above like diamonds scattered across the night sky, you knew that this was just the beginning of an incredible journey together—one filled with love, adventure, and the promise of a brighter future.

***

The soft hum of the city outside your window filled the room as the moonlight spilled in, casting a silvery glow over your study room. You had been immersed in your psychology textbooks, determined to master the material before your upcoming class. However, fatigue had crept in, and before you knew it, you had succumbed to sleep, your head resting on your notes, surrounded by the comforting chaos of your studies.

Charles had just returned from a long day of meetings with sponsors, his mind still buzzing with the events of the day. He was looking forward to spending time with you, but as he stepped into your study room, he was met with a scene that made his heart swell... There you were, curled up on the desk, your little stuffed bear nestled beside you, as if it were standing guard while you slept.

A soft smile spread across his face at the sight. “Well, well, if it isn’t my little Sleepy Scholar.” he whispered affectionately, approaching you with quiet steps. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly as he began to pick up the scattered books, papers and highlighters on the table. “You really should consider changing your name to ‘Overworked Wonder.'” he teased gently, glancing down at your peaceful expression.

As he organized your notes, he found himself admiring how well you had adapted to life in Monaco. You had embraced the city with open arms, exploring its beauty and charm while pursuing your studies with unwavering determination. It filled him with pride and love to see you thriving after everything you had faced back in Vegas.

His fingers brushed against the plush bear, and he couldn’t resist giving it a gentle squeeze. “And look who’s here to protect my precious girl, hm?” he said with a playful grin. “You’re doing a fantastic job, Mr. Bear!”

With everything neatly arranged, he turned his attention back to you. The sight of you sleeping so soundly tugged at his heartstrings. He knew how hard you had been working and how much this new chapter meant to you, he wanted nothing more than to take care of you, to ensure that you felt safe and loved in this new place.

Gently, he slipped his arms under your body, lifting you effortlessly from the desk. You stirred slightly but didn’t wake as he cradled you against him. “Time for bed, my little scholar.” he murmured softly, the warmth of your body against his bringing him a sense of peace. “You need a deserved rest in a comfy bed.”

He carried you to the bedroom, the soft sound of his footsteps barely audible over the gentle lapping of waves outside. As he laid you down on the bed, he carefully tucked the covers around you, ensuring that you were warm and comfortable. The plush bear found its place beside you once more, as if it were keeping watch over you in your dreams.

Charles took a moment to admire you—your features relaxed in sleep, a serene expression gracing your face. The love he felt for you swelled within him as he brushed a stray hair away from your forehead. “Sweet dreams, my love.” he whispered softly before slipping into bed beside you.

As he settled in next to you, the day’s exhaustion caught up with him. He turned onto his side, propping his head up on his hand and watching you sleep for a moment longer. The way you breathed peacefully filled him with an overwhelming sense of contentment, It felt like everything was right in the world.

But soon enough, the weight of fatigue pulled at him too. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into the warmth of the bed and the comfort of your presence. As sleep enveloped him, dreams began to weave their way into his mind—visions of laughter-filled days exploring Monaco’s stunning coastline together, quiet evenings spent sharing stories under starlit skies, and a future filled with love and promise.

In that shared moment of tranquility, two hearts beat as one—connected by love and trust, embracing the beauty of their journey together. The world outside faded away as they drifted into a peaceful slumber, knowing that they would face whatever challenges lay ahead side by side.

As the night wore on, Charles found himself wrapped in dreams filled with laughter and light—a reflection of the joy you brought into his life. And in that serene space, both of you slept soundly, cocooned in warmth and love in your new home in Monaco.

[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

[technovillain]

*Imagine there's an anon ask from roughly a year ago here asking me to share "what campers I thought become Psychonauts/what each of them end up getting up to when they're older" here. Imagine it cuz it got deleted randomly. T_T

BACK ON MY PSYCHONAUTS KICK THAT MEANS ITS TIME TO ANSWER YEARS OLD ANON ASKS LET'S GO!!! I have better story ideas for some more than others here...but if you're curious abt what I've written abt any of them, I encourage you to pry, that way I can think abt it harder and develop them further :]

Putting them under the cut, cuz breaking them down will be Long.

Let me preempt this section with this thought: every former camper of Whispering Rock ( save for maybe a few bad eggs ) is offered a job to work for the Psychonauts agency once they're of employment age. That's what you get for going to Secret Government Agency Summer Camp as a kid. You get weird letters in the mail for life. But hey, nice job, maybe?? In addition to this, particularly talented campers with high psychic aptitude and teamwork skills are offered a shot at the Intern Program at the Motherlobe.

Razputin becomes the superstar agent he always dreamed of becoming. He would pick it anyways, but at this point it's almost like he wouldn't have a say, with the way that the organization has sort of relied on him since he was 10 years old. I think he learns the hard way how much doing field work, like actual danger situations not just inside someone's mind, can take a toll on you quickly. Eventually he ends up taking a break, a "sort of running away from it all" type hiatus from agent work to go back and work with his family's circus again. No matter what happens, he always ends up going back and forth between these two things. Completed the intern program and specializes in Clairvoyance (much to his dismay) and favors Blastokinesis in the field.

Lili ends up in a situation similar to Raz, what with being very tied up with the organization from a really young age (even younger for her). But she gets the bonus points of stress of "being a Zanotto working for the Psychonauts means you'll probably end up in some big important role someday...doesn't it?" I'd argue that Lili would fall into the realm of trying to keep her image spotless and becoming a real precision agent, getting really good in high-stakes crisis situations. Was an intern for longer than anybody else, and specializes in both Herbaphony and Pyrokinesis.

Dogen is a training field agent for a while but has a bad accident and basically goes into hiding... He goes through a really similar thing to Compton, but he isolates himself so much that he really starts to scare other people. He starts to search for a way to make himself "un-psychic" and this gets him accidentally involved with some dangerous forces who are looking for an 'in' to mess with the Psychonauts. He struggled his way through the intern program as a teen and maybe sort of didn't really graduate it. Obviously Blastokinesis is his speciality, but in the field he did his best to repress that entirely and was a Mental Shield assisting agent.

Bobby goes through a whole arc of recovery and finding out his family lore. It's worth mentioning that I hc Loboto to be his father, and he lived with his grandparents growing up, and eventually got kicked out of that house. With nowhere to go, the Psychonauts as an organization pretty much ended up raising him. It takes a whole psychic village to raise a horrible little child. He still can be a jerk but he's a good guy now... Did the intern program, begrudgingly, because he "had nothing better to do". Specializes in Blastokinesis and Pyrokinesis.

Crystal gets her life turned around with the help of psychic outreach programs in her young teen years. She was taken on as an agent for a while, but finds her passions lie with helping others. She ends up working at Psychoisolation, helping active agents to recover from the things they've seen. Does most of her work inside the minds of other psychics. Specializes in Mental Connection.

Kitty becomes the big breakout "spotlight" agent that everyone has heard about, even being well known in nonpsychic circles. She has a full blown Hollywood celebrity vibe, despite the fact that none of her coworkers act that way and (most) at the agency don't view her that way. She's still a messy person. She's very hot and cold, wishy-washy, does whatever she wants. Has a complex relationship with Razputin, and consequently, Lili too. Maintains a mostly unrequited facade of an "Agent Rivalry" between her and Elka Doom. Completed the intern program with flying colors. Specializes in Hypnosis/Confusion and Electrokinesis.

Elka becomes an agent. She's always on the verge of about six different breakdowns. She keeps her image mostly clean and mysterious to the outside observer. Despite living her life waiting for impending disaster she still tries to stay on the side of good. She becomes an iconic "write about her in the comics" agent with a difficult relationship to her psychic powers... Completed the intern program at a young age. Specializes in Precognition.

Vernon works under Adam Joseph Gette as Psychic historians for the agency for a while as part of his internship. Eventually he decides to branch out, getting really into photography and field research. He becomes fascinated with the Rhombus of Ruin and its tales of disappearance and mystery. He gets approved for a reconnaissance mission there with Elton Fir (and Benny Fideleo too...kinda.) Completed the intern program. Isn’t a regular field agent but works at the Motherlobe. Specializes in Astral Projection.

Elton never lets go of his sailor aesthetic, but he kind of has no choice, because Hydrokinesis and Zoolingualism (namely with fish) are his specialty. He still harbors feelings for Milka, despite things becoming...really complicated. Recently he's been working with his buddy Vernon in the depths of the Rhombus of Ruin, trying to uncover the mystery of the Psilirium there. He was never in the intern program, he worked in a shipyard until being offered a job from the Psychonauts. Being their marine mission specialist has really boosted his confidence.

Benny really thought his job working for the Psychonauts would be cooler. But he isn’t allowed to work in the field because he can’t get over his *ahem* panic reactions to danger. He failed every test he was given. He’s just a chicken. So much to his dismay, he has to stay back at base. Behind a desk. Watching blips on a screen in the Nerve Center. Blahhh. There aren’t a lot of transmissions to come back from the dead radio zone of the Rhombus, but when they come through?? He’ll be ready. Flunked out of the intern program. Doesn’t get to use his psychic powers much, except using TK to mess with people when he’s bored.

Mikhail ditched Maloof. And he was probably the only one to ever do that and live to tell the tale. Went back home for a while, but came back and did the intern program when he was a little older. Specializes in Telekinesis but now has a special Zoolingualism tie to bears. He's a good guy agent, sure. But he absolutely will Sic The Bears On You.

Franke never grew out of her “yes-man” tendencies. In fact, it could be said that she leaned into them tenfold. She has taken it upon herself to work as an “assistant” to the superstar agents, doing physical, emotional, and my god janitorial duties for them. She focuses mainly on Kitty and Elka, but she’ll suck up to anyone. Lili wishes she would hit the bricks. Franke doesn’t use her powers often on account of having something Ford dubbed “psitanium sickness” flareups on the regular. Basically, her brain accumulates a lot of psitanium, but for whatever reason, she doesn’t have the firepower to dish it back out as psychic energy. So it builds up in her head. Gives her freaky purple eyes. So routinely, agents will go into her brain to farm psitanium. And she loves it.

Clem, after drifting apart from Crystal, kind of just fell to pieces. Home life was not good, so the job offer from the Psychonauts was refreshing. But what is Clem’s job exactly?? Does anybody know? Does moping ominously in the Quarry and making everyone really anxious count as a job? Does talking to a very very old woman in the Gulch about having an identity crisis count as a career? Who’s to say! “Specializes” in Mental Projection.

J.T. becomes the new groundskeeper at Whispering Rock. Never was in the intern program, was offered an office job. Worked it for all of 2 months before he felt crazy. You can’t put this cowboy indoors. He’s a much better groundskeeper than Ford was. He actually prioritizes keeping the kids safe, and they all love him. Hangs out with Mikhail every now and then when he comes to help tame psychic forest animals, and the two get very nostalgic about their summer camp days. Specializes in Levitation.

Maloof becomes a psychic crime boss. Obviously. His mother has a lot of sway over what he does. He has a serious man-child thing going on, so he doesn’t act a whole lot differently than he did as a little kid. Which only makes him more freaky. He holds a lot of grudges against the people who feared and doubted him as a child. Specializes in Mental Projection.

Milka’s bouts of invisibility got worse as her home life soured even more. As a teenager, she tried to join the intern program and better herself, but she developed a real problem with running away from things that were good for her. She dated Elton again as a teen, but ran away from him. She ran away from the Psychonauts as a whole. Simply disappearing into the wind, extremely hard to track. Everyone worries about her. Nobody knows exactly where she is. Some are convinced she actually disappeared somewhere and didn’t just go invisible, as nobody can even track her mental footprint anymore... Specializes in Invisibility.

Chloe is doing her own thing. There are a number of agents who were given the task of “keeping an eye on Chloe Barge” to make sure she doesn’t become some sort of large scale threat or something. But nobody ever really knows what she’s up to. It’s probably got something to do with aliens. And psychic activity. But what the heck is it?? Never joined the intern program, but visited the Motherlobe a couple of times as a teen to use the psychoisolation facilities. Specializes in Photokinesis.

Chops drifted away from the whole psychic scene and got into homeopathic medicine. Keeps his powers on the down-low, and uses them behind people’s backs. Maybe a little shady for blending his light psychic knowledge with plant knowledge and branding it as ‘medicine’, but he means well. There just isn’t a lot of interest in psychics from the Canadian government, so he’s leaving it alone for now.

Phoebe is still working on her music career, and has become a relatively successful indie rock star. Quentin never was taking it seriously enough for her, so they moved on. She was offered a lot of gigs from Morris, but is trying to make it “in the regular world” and declined most of them. She struggles to keep her Pyrokinesis in check still, and it heightens her anxiety on the road, only making it more likely for flareups to happen. Her band members know that she’s psychic, but she doesn’t want to tell anyone else. She calls Lili a lot and she helps Phoebe learn to control her Pyro.

Quentin is running a little farm in Green Needle Gulch. His produce and *ahem* herbs are loved by all sorts of Psychic clientele. He really isn’t interested in any of the agent stuff, or paperwork stuff, he’s just kinda...zooted, idk. Just chilling, and a lot of the more uptight government types in the organization cannot stand that he’s allowed to hang around the gulch.

Nils went to prison on multiple accounts of stalking. He’s still in there. I don’t think anyone misses him, but I’m sure there’s a few people who worry about him getting out. Sort of a looming “it’s only a matter of time before he breaks out and becomes a huge threat” villain. Specializes in Cryokinesis.

[ebonysplendor]

Bruh review the new version of TKaTB bruh because WOWIEEEEEEEEE

I've found that I don't usually do whole reviews on the updated versions of the visual novels I've already written about...but I find it dope that this implies that you lowkey want my unhinged, scatterbrained story telling. Also, big preesh for keeping me straight lol, because, once again, I've been meaning to get around to playing the update, and I just haven't, which is extremely disrespectful. But anyways! I'm yappin' way too early...

TL;DR: HE HIT IT FROM THE BACK. I REPEAT. HE HIT IT FROM THE BACK! ... technically ... we need to have a serious discussion about this thing called "consent", though...

Game Link: https://fantasia-kittcat.itch.io/the-kid-at-the-back-demo

Notable Features: Yandere LI, Custom Pronouns, Self-Insert (first and last name), Two LIs, 1+ Hour Long Demo Spiciness: 2/5 or 8/5 -- Again, it depends on which version you get. If you get the regular degular free version, it'll be more innocent with some flirtiness here and there. If you pay for the NSFW version -- HIGHLY SUGGESTED by the way! -- it'll be way more sinful and the way that the Gods intended it to be. LI Red Flags: 4/5 or 7/5-- Breaking-and-entering, possessive, drugged us, lack of consent, but that "lack of consent" goes even farther in the NSFW version (yes, even farther than in the previous demo) ... but I still can fix him, ya know? Like, that's bae

Wanna know more? If you are not 18+, ABSOLUTELY NOT. You will NOT put this fantastic game in jeopardy, because you're some curious 14-year-old. I honestly don't even want you on my page...but let's be real, are you actually going to listen to me? I hope that you do...ANYWAYS. My 18+ crew, let's get into it!

Almost an entire month with no visual novel review? Nah, we absolutely cannot let that happen.

You know what else we can't let happen? My constant disrespect towards this visual novel. Once AGAIN, the dev(s) ate and left absolutely no crumbs. Like, damn, can you at least leave the plate? Like-- Okay, wait, no, stop. I don't want to get too far into that, because the yap sesh will get kicked off way too early, and I won't have anything for the actual review portion.

That being said, I have done a review of TKATB before, but I'm doing an update of...well, the update. That also being said, because I'm trying to avoid parroting myself too much, the review is going to flow differently. ALSO! Once again, thanks to the bestie, I was able to see the degeneracy LIVE AND IN 4K and biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch~! Let me tell-- Wait, no, no, no, stop. Not yet. Later. We'll talk about that later...at least sorta.

Anyways, like always, I'll def try to make this as spoiler friendly as possible, especially since it's lowkey a different game at this point. Like, the dev(s) have added in extra SCENES. We have new CGs! Like...we've got CONTENT in this update, y'all!

Okay, for realsies now. Enough yappin'. Let's get into it, and y'all...there's a lot to get into.

So, effin' BOOM.

...Actually. Let's do this another way, because we already lowkey know the story. Again, if you don't, I made a review of it a few months back that will get you somewhat caught up. This time around, though, let's just talk and vibe. Enjoy some snacks or whatever, ya know?

Go ahead and pick; there's plenty. I've got me, like, three capri suns and some donut holes. Like, I'm really tryna get into this game convo with y'all because we're squad, ya know? So, let's get comfy while gettin' into it.

All right, so -- *big siiiiiiiiiiip* -- my husband Solivan Brugmansia, right? Let's discuss. Not about him being my husband or not, the game. Respectfully, check yourself. Anyways.

My Gods. that is bae right there. Like, gah damn...

For starters -- even though, I can totally fix him, and I want to make that very clear! My baby ain't do nothing entirely wrong! Like just- just give him to me. He is just a lil' traumatized and misunderstood; he is very capable of change. Like, I can fix him! I can! -- it's only fair to remind you that he is, uh, kind've batshit crazy. Now, the wild part is that I for realsies forgot that he is not entirely sane. Like, not even kidding about that.

This experience has been a sort of "Let me seep you into the madness" versus a "Let's make him insane off rip", and because it was like that, when he started doing typical yandere shit, there were -- specifically -- two different times that I experienced genuine shock. It was literally like, "Oh yeeeeeeah. This is a visual novel with a yandere love interest. Solivan's the yandere. He's not wrapped too tight. Ah, yes, I forgot about that factoid", ya know? The shit genuinely caught me off guard.

Anyways, still can't trust the orange juice, 10 is the magic number, and don't kiss Crowe...like ever lmao. You can dismiss the fuck out of that man, but he's lowkey a simp like Sol is, so as soon as you kiss him lmao...

Just remember that it's implied that Sol is, and has always been, keeping a close eye on you. Actually, let me back up a little. Let's talk more abo-- Oh, wait, do you need a refill? Okay, hold on for a second. Wait, are you good on snackies? You know what? I'll just grab everything, just in case.

...

Okay, now, let's talk more about the orange juice.

Never --

-- and I mean NEVER, trust the orange juice.

There was a moment that we got with Sol, and it was like, "...Aw :)", and then, he was like, "I made orange juice~!", and it was like, "...Aw :(". Like, lmaooooo, I thought we were past that, ya know? Like, I obviously like you! I have you at a 10! Why are you resorting to nonphysical violence? I mean, he got physical in other ways, but it wasn't violent, ya know what I'm sayin'~?

Now, the "10" thing that I keep bringing up.

This competition between them is more intense than I thought, bro, and Sol does not cope with failure well. You know how people will be like, "a win is a win"? Well, with Sol --

-- a loss is a loss, even if it's just by one point.

Remember that whole "Don't kiss Crowe" thing? I genuinely mean that. As tempting as it may be -- and believe me, it's tempting especially because...Crowe can really make a girl feel really, really... wanted, ya know?🫦... ANYWAYS -- DO NOT kiss that man, because that's the game point. Now, who's the actual winner in that scenario.... 👀🧃*dramatic siiiiiiiiiip*. I ain't gon' say it...but I'm just sayin' lmao.

Even though, I really ain't shit because...I willingly cheated on Sol with Crowe. WAIT. LET ME EXPLAIN WHY THOUGH.

This man, dear Gods, this man. I must stay focused... This man is the one that you SHOULD be dating. This is the one that all of your friends and your family really like and approve of. This is the healthy choice, but you don't choose him, because the one that you want is "dark and hot and tall and mysterious" and you're like, "but daddy, I love him!". Meanwhile, your friends are desperately trying to tell you about all the red flags with the other guy and are like "What is with you and toxic men?!". Then, when you defend your toxic crush, they shade you because they "should've saw it coming" when you had picked Sesshomaru and Sasuke over Inuyasha and Naruto.

...But, anyways, when I say that Crowe is Prince damned Charming? Babes... And then he let that hair loose????

Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaabes~!

As a side note, lol I wasn't pulling those descriptions (completely) out of my ass; that was the literal intention.

See? "Dark and mysterious" vs "Princely".

Anyways, Crowe's rizz game is...surprisingly strong? Like, I honestly don't know why I was so shocked, but I was shocked. Like, a girl was genuinely flustered, because what do you mean that "you knew that we were going stargazing but you didn't know the brightest start was going to be right in front of you" and "anything for me"? Not to mention that this man was putting flowers in our hair and carRYING US TO OUR APARTMENT IN THE RAIN? BARELY GRUNTING WHILE DOING SO??? Like, sir, please, don't do this. I have a husband...but it's like, shit, I won't tell if you won't at this point.

That's pretty much all the new stuff -- well, that I was willing to partially spoil for you. There's other stuff, but you definitely gotta see that live and in 4K, and trust me, you're gonna want to.

Once again...THE FATTEST EFFING SHOUTOUT TO WHOEVER SENT THAT ANON MESSAGE AS THEY HAVE PUSHED ME TO STAND ON BUSINESS ONCE MORE.

It is even more beautiful than I remember, and thanks to the bestie, I was able to see my husband in all of his glory LIVE and in 4K. Okay, but I was degenerate throughout this whole post, so let's just put a pause on that and actually review the game properly.

This is still a work of the Gods, and I honestly love the tweaks and additions that were made. From Brittany's personality being tweaked so it reads more as "I swear, I'm not mean; I'm just really bad at talking to people" to Crowe's scenario being way more in depth to getting some more CGs of my husband Sol. The art style is still damned IMMACULATE to look at, and the plot is STILL plotting. Also...he's cute, but I lowkey don't trust Crowe, because why are you so perfect? The dev(s) is/are writing the EFF out of these characters. Like, honestly? Continue to pop off.

I definitely plan to buy my own copy, and I HIGHLY suggest that you do the same. It's honestly just the spicy scenes, so it's not like "Ooh, extra lore!" or anything, but they are honestly so deserving of that monetary support. Not to mention, the NSFW version is what the Gods would have wanted.

Even though, I'm wondering if we'll ever explicitly know Sol's (and definitely Crowe's and Hyugo's[/Geo's]) background. Now, admittedly and as far as I know, this is really the only piece of "lore" that you'll miss if you don't get the NSFW version, because I'm certain that I'm not the only one that's noticed it, but just in case you haven't (and I'm cutting the heck out of this CG because it's very spicy, but I need you guys to see what I'm talking about).

What's up with these bruises? Like, you see that right? But it's not in the other picture, so it's like...? What the eff happened? Like, the reason why I say that is because the second picture happened BEFORE the first picture, so something happened to him, but what? I know that it's implied by some of the things that Sol says and how he responds to stuff and some of his mannerisms that he came from a pretty shitty background, but what exactly and is it ongoing?

But, then again, it's like duh it's ongoing, because he said that "it's the usual" that he deals with...uh...certain situations. Check this out though; in that same breath, he was like "every bruise is worth it". Like...what? That's not-- That's not a normal or healthy thought let alone something you'd actual verbalize. Like, I'm telling you, the dev(s) is/are murdering this visual novel thing. No wonder it's so easy to forget that Sol is a literal walking red flag. I'm more focused on the plot than whether or not he's gonna drug my food.

Also, also, also, I just want to yap really briefly about my favorite CG... screen... UI thingy...that I can't show you. Not because it's a spicy one but because, even though you can probably read between the lines, it'd be, what I feel is, a major spoiler. Just as a slight "pro" tip. That little green heart at the top right of your screen that turns blue when you hover over it?

It leads to that screen with the scale that shows your affinity level for Sol and Crowe. Just...check in on that thing a lot; you may see something interesting. When you do see that interesting thing...please, think of me ಥ‿ಥ Because next to the way that the affinity level is shown altogether, it was my absolute favorite thing about the update. That was done so beautifully. ...Damn, I want to show you all so badly ._.

Anyways, I think my yap session should end here. I've already said it a handful on times, but what's one more time? I highly, highly, HIGHLY recommend this game. It's so good, the art is amazing, the plot is plotting, and so much work and love has gone into this game, and it's STILL only in its demo phase. I suggest donating $5 to have (permanent) access to the NSFW version and/or telling the dev(s), "Hey! Really love your game! I was just wondering if you take human sacrifices? Would that expedite the full release? Anyways! You're doing great, sweetie! <3"; aggressively supportive validation is really the only way to go, because they really are doing more than a damned good job. You should honestly see it for yourself. Here, I'll put the direct link for ya.

I'm yapping again. I'm ending it for realsies now. The biggest preesh for hanging out with me today and getting this far. PLEASE, remember to drink water, don't be dumb, and hope to see you around~!

The Kid at the Back (DEMO)

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: A Few Minutes Won't Hurt

Summary: Alternative Title: Repressed Baptist Seduces Menace to Society. I said I would post the smut chapter in CH.13 of For Your Own Good if that chapter got 10 reviews, and I got those within like 2 hours. Well, I'm an author of my word(s), so here's your NSFW Fiddlestan content. Cross-posted on AO3 Here.

One shot from my other work, "For Your Own Good", but you don't necessarily need to read it first to read this.

Rating: E for language and sexual content. Also this whole thing is just smut with some plot and feelings.

WARNING: TW/ Mentioned past sexual abuse.

Of all the things Fiddleford thought he was willing to do to help his dear friend and colleague Stanford, seducing his identical twin brother to buy time while he fixed the houses power grid was not one of them.

While Stanford didn't ask him to do this specifically, he had asked him to distract Stan just long enough for him to get the power back up. And what else was he to do?

Drugging him was an option, but keeping him here against his will was already morally objectionable, he didn't want to add drugging him against his will (again) too. He had at least some standards here compared to Ford. Plus, Stan had an alarmingly high tolerance to substances anyways. He still shivered in remembrance of the crushed Ambien incident.

Brute force was also an option, but Fiddleford had no weapons on him. Hand-to-hand combat? Fiddleford was a lot stronger than his willowy build would lead others to believe. He grew up on a farm with hogs, and he had the strength to back it up. But Stan was a fighter - not just a fighter, but someone who's lived the past decade having to fight to survive. Fiddleford has personally seen what a rat in a corner can turn into, and he wasn't going to see what happened when the same thing happened with an adult man who was bigger than him. Not to mention, on the way downstairs, Fiddleford saw the man had already grabbed the items Ford had confiscated from him when he was brought in the first time, which included a switchblade and pair of knuckle dusters. It didn’t matter how strong Fiddleford was, when he was completely unarmed and Stan was most definitely not.

Reasoning with him?

There was no reasoning with him - and what could Fiddleford possibly tell him? That he needed to be held captive against his will in some mad scientist's basement in the middle of the woods? Stan couldn't even be convinced Stanford was really his twin and they looked almost exactly the same.

So that left, as Stan so eloquently put it, a 'honey trap'. Stan had been flirting with him relentlessly since they met and Fiddlefort had to bet all of his chips on the chance that Stan was actually attracted to him, and not just doing it to mess with him. Although not a betting man, Fiddleford must have made the right bet because now he was pinned against the wall, chest-to-chest with one wrist being held over his head, and a chapped pair of lips against his own.

Maybe, just maybe, Fiddleford was just looking for an excuse…

Given Stan's initial aggression, Fiddleford had fully expected the vagabond to go all-in on this encounter - with tongue, teeth, groping, and all. Yet, Stan was only kissing him - firm, but not rough, and no tongue. The grip on his wrist wasn't even hard, almost like it was a suggestion or invitation. With the power out, most of the lights in the basement laboratory were also out, but there were just enough autonomously-powered machines down there to keep them out of the pitch dark.

Stan put his remaining hand on Fiddlefords shoulder and lightly pushed it down, exposing more of his neck. He withdrew from the kiss and started instead planting butterfly kisses on the engineer's neck and throat. Just enough pressure to make Fiddleford feel hot under the collar, but not enough to leave marks.

Flustered at this almost romantic treatment, Fiddleford wrapped his free arm around Stan's waist, pulling him closer- close enough to rub their crotches together. Fiddleford had already undone his belt and zipper, leaving his trousers halfway down his thighs with only his briefs covering him, while Stan was still fully dressed save for his hoodie which he'd slid off earlier.

He noted Stan stiffened up for a second, but then relaxed again. Curious. He was so eager about this, and yet he was showing some signs of what seemed to be apprehension. Fiddleford would have to keep an eye on that, he wasn't going to do this if Stan actually didn't want to.

Stan nuzzled his chin and then moved onto trailing kisses along his jaw.

Fiddleford chuckled and turned his head to peck his lips "Stan," he teased with a heavy breath "I didn't realize you were such a gentleman."

Stan didn't respond, instead letting go of Fiddlefords wrist, which quickly moved down to hold the other man's hip.

"May I?" Fiddleford asked, thumbing the hem of his jeans - Stan didn't wear a belt, likely because of his thicker gut. Stan nodded, and took a step back.

Fiddleford turned them around so Stan's back was against the wall instead, and he was in front of him. Licking his lips a bit, Fiddleford undid the button and zipper of Stan's jeans before kneeling down and yanking both his jeans and boxers down to his knees.

A slight, full-body tremour ran through Stan's body and he almost seemed to back up even more against the wall as he was exposed. He wasn't completely hard yet, but his tip had a generous bead of precum already forming.

Fiddleford licked his lips again- usually this wasn't something he did, because his throat was sensitive, but given Stan's other actions so far he doubted he was going to try to face fuck him like so many other guys tended to do.

Fiddleford licked him from base to tip, before eagerly engulfing just the head. He didn't want to start off with too much all at once, he wanted to savour this a little bit. He heard Stan gasp aloud but abruptly stop.

He looked up as he slowly took in more of his length- he was surprised to see Stan had slapped his hand over his mouth, presumably to keep quiet. He was looking down at Fiddleford however, and when their eyes met his face turned an interesting shade of red and his eyes rounded out just slightly, almost like he didn't expect Fiddleford to look at him at all.

Fiddleford took in about half of him - that was enough to ease his throat for a moment, and he could feel the appendage swell and stiffen under his ministrations, giving him a perverted sense of pride.

He felt Stan place a hand on top of his head, and he quickly exhaled through his nose as he mentally prepared himself to be fucked in the throat and his hair to be yanked. Which was always fun, but he preferred taking his time.

However, that isn't what happened. Thick, calloused fingers tangled into his sandy blond locks, but not enough to pull at his scalp, and instead began stroking his hair back. Hesitant at first, before finding a clear rhythm to follow.

It was Fiddlefords turn to blush. All of this gentleness was the exact opposite of what he expected from Stan and he almost felt guilty for even assuming the vagabond would be rough or demanding. Fiddleford shoved his free hand down his briefs and gripped his own member, palming himself best he could in his current position.

Humming, he started to bob his head - slowly at first, but picking up pace after a few tests on his throat. He internally pouted that the only response he was receiving was well-muffled noises he had to strain to hear.

Fiddleford pulled his mouth off of Stan's dick, leaving an obscene string of saliva between himself and the weeping tip. "Stan," he said, looking up at the other man, who seemed confused, "I want to hear you." When a look of uncertainty crossed the vagabond's eyes, he added "There isn't anyone down here besides you and me, and the cameras don’t work right now, it's okay."

Stan slowly removed his hand from covering his mouth, and Fiddleford flashed him a small approving smile before quickly swallowing down most of his length in one movement.

"Fuck-!" Stan gasped, his tone so surprised and lewd it made it worth Fiddlefords now stimulated gag reflex. Fiddleford felt himself harden up even more and he jerked himself with even more vigor.

It'd be a good time now to switch to the main act, but it sure would be a shame if he didn't get a taste... especially with that deep, pretty moaning egging him on like this.

Though his hand movements stayed light and affectionate, Stan began to shake and stutter "-F, g-gonna-... I-Im close."

Fiddleford used the hand on Stan's hip to press him against the wall as far as he could, while taking his entire member, gag reflex be damned. Stan practically cried out as he cummed, and Fiddleford swallowed it all eagerly even if he had to cough a bit because of his now angry throat. It took a few strokes for Fiddleford to follow him in release, and his hand was cramping because he hadn't pulled himself out of his underwear to do so but he couldn't force himself to care about that right now.

Fiddleford slowly pulled off, feeling Stan's fingers continue to stroke his hair, albeit a bit clumsily with the aftershocks still wracking his body. "Y-You're pretty good at that, stretch." The brunet chuckled breathily, and Fiddleford felt his own face go hot "What else are you good at?"

Swiftly wiping his mouth with his lab coat sleeve, Fiddleford stood up again and cupped Stan's cheek with his hand, lightly rubbing his jaw with his thumb, which Stan leaned into almost unconsciously, his pupils dilating even further.

Fiddleford brought his face close to Stan's, close enough to feel each other's heavy breaths. "You're just the sweetest thing - like a summer peach. How about I show what else I can do?"  He offered, boldly moving his hand from Stan's hip down to his ass.

Stan breathed out a small laugh "Think you could handle me?"

"Only if you want me to."

Stan relaxed a bit more at that "All yours, specs... You got a condom?"

"Yes-" Fiddleford hastily felt around his jeans for his wallet, and after fumbling a moment Stan got a thoughtful look in his eye before reaching down to his own discarded jeans and sheepishly handing the engineer the wallet. "You stole my wallet while I was-"

"Force of habit. Sorry." Stan apologized, though Fiddleford doubted this would hinder him from doing it again in the future.

Rolling his eyes, Fiddleford rifled through it for a condom, which he quickly produced "Do you have lube?" He asked thoughtfully, though he doubted it. He personally wasn't against using spit but he knew it wasn't that effective.

"Don't need it." Stan answered a bit too quickly. When Fiddleford gave him a curious look, he added "I had some fun in the bathroom while you guys were gone."

"Is that all you do when you're left to your devices?" Fiddleford teased, even as felt his lower regions twitch back to life at the implication. "I must say I'm almost intimidated to be entertaining someone so... voracious."

"Did you eat a dictionary for breakfast this morning, specs?" Stan teased back, rolling his eyes "I don't exactly have a lot of stuff I can do down here… bathroom’s the only private place."

Fiddleford leaned his head against Stan's shoulder and gave himself a few tugs to harden up again- just enough to properly apply the condom. Through the contact he could feel and hear the other man's breath hitch, and his heart rate increasing further. But he also started to... shiver? Just a little, subtle enough Fiddleford wouldn't have been able to see it, but enough he could feel it while being so physically close.

"Wait." Stan said as he abruptly put his hands on Fiddlefords shoulders just as Fiddleford finished applying the condom, not to push him away, just to get his attention. Fiddleford glanced back up at him to see his eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"What's wrong darlin?" He asked.

"Nothings 'wrong'," Stan insisted, but paused "you... You're nice, right? You'll be nice?"

"Nice...?" Fiddleford blinked in confusion.

"You're not going to try to fuck me so hard I'll bleed?" Stan clarified, and there was a grim edge to his tone, like asking Fiddleford to not hurt him was an exception and not a rule "You'll... stop if I asked you to?" There was hesitation when he asked, as if he was overstepping and asking for a favour.

Fiddlefords eyes widened "Of course- Stan of course I would stop if you wanted to stop! Why would you think..." He trailed off when Stan's eyes almost seemed to dull, and grew a bit shiny, a hint of tears.

"I was in prison, Fiddleford." He explained, slowly, strained, "The guys there aren't like you... they don't ask. They're not nice."

"..." In spite of the compromising position and state of undress they were in, Fiddleford straightened up and pulled Stan into a tight hug, which surprised Stan but he didn't push him away "Oh Stan," he said, kissing his cheek lightly "I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve that. No one deserves that."

Breath slightly shaky, Stan didn’t return the embrace, but hid his face against Fiddlefords hair. Considering Stan’s tendency to talk about his various trauma as if it were a joke ir a point of pride, this must have been the first true moment of vulnerability the vagabond had allowed himself in who knows how long. At least, the first one that Fiddleford had seen himself.

"We don't have to do this, we can stop here." Fiddleford assured him, but Stan shook his head.

"I want to- I want you. I like you a lot. I just... I don't want it to be like the other times..."

Fiddleford nodded and pecked his cheek again. "Okay... I'm going to pick you up and we can do this against the wall, is that alright with you?"

Stan quirked a brow "I'm fine with that position, but are you sure? I'm not light." True, not only was Fiddleford considerably thinner, but despite one of Stan's nicknames for him being ‘stretch’, he was also a touch shorter than both of the Stan twins.

“Saddle up, city boy.” Fiddleford said with a wink, before abruptly grabbing Stan by the hips and lifting him straight off of his feet, balancing him between the leaning forward of his own hips and the wall.

“Woah- ah.” Stan briefly gasped in surprise before quickly throwing his arms over Fiddlefords neck, and his legs around his hips, clinging for what he perceived to be dear life. But Fiddleford didn’t seem to struggle holding him up at all, as though he were as light as a feather. “I-if you fucking drop me…”

“I won’t, don’t you worry none.” Fiddleford assured. When he was sure Stan was holding onto him tightly enough, and leaned forward so he could have him more properly pinned between himself and a wall, he let go of him with one hand - pausing to make sure Stan wasn’t unbalanced - and reached down to grasp onto his own cock. He was still a bit sensitive and flaccid from his recent orgasm, but that was going to change very soon. “Are you ready? This might sting a little.”

Stan just nodded, still keeping his arms over Fiddlefords neck but leaning back slightly, trying to keep his body as slack as possible, allowing the engineer to slip inside of him with little resistance, though Stan did still hiss slightly through his teeth.

“Lord have- mphh.” Fiddleford moaned as he pushed up, pulling Stan down enough to where he could be fully hilted. He felt very soft inside- and so, so warm. He could tell from the few times they’d physically interacted before this that Stan ran a bit hot, but nothing like this. It was enough to make his head dizzy, enough for a rare swear word to slip out of him “Fuck, you feel good.”

“You too.” Stan muttered next to his ear, before burying his face into Fiddlefords neck. For a moment they both just stayed like that so Stan could adjust to the intrusion properly. After a few moments, Fiddleford rolled his hips upward, softly, experimentally, and when Stan gave him a slight hum of approval, he continued to do so with more vigor.

Gravity did most of the work for him, he could push Stan upward as softly as he wanted but he always came down much harder and that was the friction that was driving the engineer insane. It didn’t take long for Fiddleford to start snapping his hips up in tandem with the other man coming down on him. He would have started pulling him down if he didn’t remember Stan’s anxiety about being treated rough.

Stan shifted his arms from over Fiddlefords neck so he could cup his face with his hands- his eyes were still as impish as ever, but they were hazed over, Fiddleford could only register that fog as lust before Stan pulled his face in so they could kiss again. Fiddleford fluttered his eyes closed and breathed heavily through his nose as he daringly introduced tongue- something which Stan allowed this time around.

As sweet as Stan;s more romantic inclinations were, Fiddleford was honestly very pent up. Yes, he’ll admit privately to himself at this moment - might as well, he was balls deep in the other man - that yes, he had been using the honey trap as an excuse. Stan had been so relentless with his attention and flirting that it’d been increasingly difficult to not feel a certain way about it in these past weeks.

Stan was crude and used dark humour to cover his multitude of trauma’s, and he made it no secret he was an unabashed scoundrel who would jump right back into criminal mischief the minute he could. And his uncanny resemblance to Stanford had made Fiddleford a bit uneasy at first - how could he possibly be attracted to someone who looked exactly like his best friend? What did that say about Fiddleford? And there was the most glaring issue of Fiddleford being an accomplice to Stanford holding Stan prisoner against his will.

Wanting to have sex with your best friends identical twin? That was bad enough. Wanting to have sex with someone you were holding captive in a basement in the middle of the woods? That was just immoral, unethical, and illegal. 

Those issues didn’t go away, per se, with this encounter. But there wasn’t anything Fiddleford could do to physically keep Stan from tossing him aside like a tumbleweed and just leaving, so Stan had only agreed to a quickie because he wanted to. If that really wasn’t the case, Fiddleford didn’t think he could forgive himself.

But it was really difficult for the sinner to hate the sin when said sin was this tight and hot around his dick, stimulating the nerves in his groin so much that shocks of pleasure shot up and clouded any thoughts Fiddleford had involving logic and ethics.

“Hey, you.” A flick against his temple brought him back out of his head, he could see that Stan had separated from the kiss and they were just panting each others hot breaths again “Pay attention to me, won’t cha?”

When all Fiddleford could do was nod dumbly and snap his hips up and not respond with actual words because absolutely no blood was going to his brain, Stan let out a shaky laugh - pretty close to a yelp given its timing with a particularly steep thrust - before grabbing his shoulders and pushing at them slightly to get his attention.

“Y-You’re pretty tightly wound, huh? Lemme do some of the work here.” Stan offered, and motioned behind both of them “Sit in that chair and I’ll ride you.” Fiddleford nodded and made sure he had a tight grip over him before walking a few feet backwards - Stan was not a fan of this - until he was seated in the chair.

“You coulda just put me down…” Stan huffed, although this didn’t deter him from scooting up a bit before sinking back down, letting out a pleased sigh as he took in all of Fiddleford, and pausing. Fiddleford gripped Stan’s hips with both of his hands, tempted to start moving him himself but deciding to instead watch what the other man would do. 

Stan at first grinded his hips down in a small, circular motion, before beginning to lift himself up, and then dropping back down while tightening around him, making them both moan in unison. Keeping one hand on Fiddlefords shoulder, he moved his other hand down to stroke himself in tandem with his movements.

“Was this- hhah- what you were thinkin’ bout earlier?” Fiddleford began, voice straining to stay even “When you were diddlin yourself?”

Stan paused abruptly and really seemed to consider stopping entirely before continuing his current movements, jolting slightly in pleasure when Fiddleford thrusted upward into him just as he was moving down “Th-that country accent is cute and all, but if you say that word again I’m out.” He chided gruffly, still actively palming his wet and swollen member.

“Not answering my question, darlin.” Fiddleford teased a bit, though he knew he was pushing his luck against Stan’s patience, so he didn’t tease any further when Stan didn’t answer. Maybe after the fact.

Pressure built up in his lower abdomen, good pressure, and Fiddleford felt like a knot being pulled as taut as possible, about to snap-

“Oh f-fuck I’m gonna fucking cum.” Stan practically whined out, unknowingly voicing his partners thoughts. His movements on Fiddleford became uneven and frantic and as did his hand around his dick, his eyes rounding out but his pupils constricting as he became wholly focused on reaching that peak. Tightening his non dominant hand on Stan’s hip. Fiddleford reached over with his other hand to replace Stan’s, taking over his rough jerking with a firm but more delicate touch, much easier with all of the precum he was leaking out.

“Loooord, Stan-. L-like that, just like that-.” Fiddleford rambled, his entire body and especially his face burning “You’re doin so good- you feel so good, I don’t wanna stop-.” If he weren’t so busy pitching woo, Fiddleford might have noted how strange it was that Stan had dug his hands into his hoodie pockets and taking them out just as quickly, but it was so quick he might not have noticed anyways. 

Fiddleford was the first to cum this time, the feeling of the engineer tightening his grip over his length as impulsively roll his hips for friction to ride out his orgasm, it sent Stan down the same cascade of release, Fiddleford coming with almost a shout and Stan with a moan similar to a deep sigh.

Fiddleford hadn’t even started coming down from the high of peaking before Stan abruptly shoved his mouth against him, while also grabbing his wrists and pinning them down on the armrests on either side of the chair. The roughness surprised Fiddleford, but maybe this is just how Stan got right before the afterglow? Regardless, Fiddleford wasn’t complaining, he simply fluttered his eyelids closed and returned the kiss; despite the aggressive entrance, the kiss itself was as gentle and almost chaste as the ones they’d started with. 

Riiip

“Wait.” Fiddleford almost stammered “Did you just-? Why?”

"Uh-? Huh?” Fiddleford broke away from the kiss at the strange, sharp sound he heard to his left; he looked over to his left to see that his hand on that side was now zip-tied to the armrest, before he could react properly he heard the same ripping sound as before and looked over bewildered to see Stan had just finished securing another ziptie on his other wrist, rending Fiddleford stuck to the chair and unable to free either of his wrists.

“I’m really sorry about this.” Stan muttered as he pulled off of him; he kneeled down to reach over to tuck Fiddleford’s now flaccid cock back into his pants, and quickly re-doing his fly and belt for him. Once he finished with that, he walked over to his own discarded pair of boxers and jeans and yanked them both back onto himself.

“I gotta say, I didn’t think you had it in you specs.” Stan said as he dressed himself again, and in spite of what they’d just been doing less than a minute before, Fiddleford felt himself flush. “You’re more devious than I thought you were. Unfortunately, you weren’t going to out-scheme me.” With the nearby sink, Stan quickly washed his hands and wetted some paper towels, and briskly walked back to wipe up the cum he’d practically sprayed onto Fiddlefords chest. 

 “Did you plan this?”

“I probably woulda fought you if you tried stopping me in other ways.” Stan admitted “But I told ya, honey traps are one of the oldest tricks in the book. A reverse honey trap? People don't see that one coming, not even smart ones like you.”

Fiddleford huffed to himself - on one hand, he did feel some humiliation for his own plan backfiring against him; in the other hand, he wasn't unaware of Stans underhanded tendencies. “So what was that to you, then?”

Stan was still kneeling in front of him, pausing right after he tossed the dirty paper towels into the nearby wastebasket. For his part, he did look conflicted. “I meant what I said earlier, Fiddleford.” He told him, standing up just enough to lean over and kiss his cheek “I like you a lot. And I had a great time with you just now. But I didn’t break out of five prisons just to rot in some mad scientist's basement, no matter how hot his assistant is.”

Fiddleford felt his heart skip a beat. The whole time Stan had been down here, he went out of his way to not use his or Stanford’s names, he went out of his way to exclusively refer to them by nicknames. But one particular behavioral quirk Fiddleford noticed in Stan was that he did know their names, but he would only use them if he was being sincere. Given his unscrupulous disposition, that wasn’t often. 

“I like you too, Stan. I’m not saying that to trick you or keep you here.” Fiddleford replied, Stan nodded and briefly pecked his temple before standing fully upright and taking a few steps back.

“I wish we coulda met some other way, but I’m glad I did meet you. In the future, if you ever make friends who aren’t insane, and I’m not dead in a ditch somewhere, we should meet up again. If you want to.” Stan turned heel and started his way up the stairs and out of the basement.

Fiddleford didn’t have a response; what could he possibly say? He’d played a game and lost because he underestimated the other player. 

He waited for Stan to be out of earshot, before muttering out loud to himself. “Standord owes me after this… He owes me big time.”

Just as he finished that sentiment, all of the lights flickered on, and many machines whirred back to life. The power was restored.

The End… Go Home.

[bteezxyewriter12]

Lazy Cuddles/ 2

Pairing- Yoongi x Named Reader

Word count- 1.9k

Includes- Soft cuddly boyfriend Yoongi, lazy sex from behind, cock riding, multiple orgasms, so much fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000 @amyz78 @blueie-things

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Yoongi Masterlist

📝Lazy Cuddles 1

Yoongi POV

"Jagi?", I call, coming into the living room

"Mmmm?", she answers

"Jagi, where are you?"

I walk around the couch to find her laying on it, her face buried in the pillows, blanket pulled up to her chin

"What are you doing baby?", I chuckle, sitting next to her

"Dying"

"No baby, you can't die", I joke, "I need you jagi"

"Yoongi", she whines

Something's wrong

She'd usually joke back with me

"Tell me what's wrong baby", I ask, running my fingers in her hair

"Bad headache", she whispers, "Hurts so much"

"I'm sorry jagi"

She gets bad headaches from time to time

Even with meds it still hurts

Sometimes they last hours, sometimes they're short

Sometimes she gets one every day for a week or two then none for months

She's been checked out and there's no explanation for them

"Did you take meds?"

"Three Advil"

"Three?", I gape

That's a lot but it's normally what she takes when the headaches are severe

"Very bad headache", she whines, "And it's not working anyway"

"I'm sorry baby. Did you drink water? Maybe you're dehydrated?"

"I did naekkeo", she answers, "I'm just trying to nap. Maybe it'll go away when I wake up"

Sounds like a good idea

I don't want to leave her alone though

"I'll stay with you jagi"

She lifts her head, squinting at me, "You don't have to work?"

"Yeah but I can do it here. Use my laptop and headphones and I'll be right next to you"

She nods, "Ok naekkeo. Thank you"

"Of course Jo"

Leaning over her, I kiss her forehead then get up to get my stuff

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

Half an hour later, I stop the music to change something when I hear her whimper

Reaching out, I rub her back as I fix what I need to fix

Then I hit play and listen to the melody

She moves, turning around, her back to me, trying to get comfortable

She hasn't been able to fall asleep yet

I'm trying everything I can- play with her hair, massage her forehead, rub her back but nothing is working

I don't know what else to do for her

Once the music stops playing, I decide it's good and I open a new file to work on

"Yoongi", she whispers

"Yeah baby?"

"Can....you hold me?"

I smile at her back, saying, "Yeah jagi. Of course. I can use a break anyway"

I'll do anything for her, drop anything for her, to help her, to comfort her

Taking my headphones off, I put them and my laptop on the floor, then lay down under the blanket next to her

Wrapping my arms around her body, I pull her against me, her back to my chest

I cuddle into the back of her neck, pressing kisses to her skin there

"Better jagi?"

"Yeah naekkeo. Thank you"

"No need to thank me. I'll always jump at the chance to hold you"

"I love you Yoongi. So much"

"I love you Jo. More than anything", I tell her, "Now try to sleep baby ok? I don't want you hurting anymore"

"I'll try", she says softly

"Good"

Pressing a kiss to her neck, I hold her, my eyes closing as well

I'm not planning on sleeping as I'm not tired but I don't want to just stare at nothing

A few minutes later, I hear her even breathing and I smile

Seems like she just wanted me

Which is fine because she can have me whenever she wants

I'm not ready to get up yet so I just keep a tight hold on my jagi

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

Movement against my dick wakes me up

She's moving around in my arms, her ass rubbing against my crotch

What time is it?

I don't even remember falling asleep

It's not a big deal

That's our thing

Naps

A nap with my jagi is never a bad thing

But her wiggling around is making my dick hard

"Jagi", I murmur, moving my hand down to her hips and stopping her movements, "Don't wiggle baby"

"Huh?", she asks sleepily

"Don't wiggle. Your ass is rubbing against me and making me hard"

"Mmm", she whines, still pushing against me

"Is your headache gone?", I ask, trying not to think about sex

"Yeah. Just needed a nap", she says softly, her body still pressing and moving against my dick

"No more wiggling jagi", I say softly, my cock fully hard against her

It'll go away, I just need her to stop moving

"Put it in naekkeo", she murmurs

"What?", I ask, not sure I heard her right

"I feel how hard you are. Want you. Put it in"

It takes a second for my sleep riddled brain to comprehend what she's saying

"Are you sure?", I ask, once what she says sinks in

"Yes naekkeo. Want you"

I definitely want her so I pull her pants and panties down as far as I can

She lifts her legs to her chest, pulling everything off as I pull my pants and boxers down

I pull her back against me, then align my dick to her entrance and start pushing in slowly

"Yoongi", she murmur, her tight pussy opening for my cock, sucking me in as I move

"Jagi", I whimper, my arm moving around her, keeping her body against mine, "Feels so good baby"

"Mmm", she moans, her cunt getting wetter, leaking around my cock with each inch in

I'm almost in and I shove my hips forward, burying entirely in her sweet cunt, feeling the hard clenching her pussy is doing

The pleasure rolls over me as we both moan

"So good naekkeo", she says softly

"Always good jagi", I tell her, kissing the back of her neck

I move one of her legs back, over mine thigh, spreading her legs open

Moving my hand in between her legs, I run my fingers up her pussy, collecting the juice she's leaking around my cock

Then I press on her throbbing clit, hearing her gasp, and start moving my fingers in a circle

"Yoongi", she moans, shaking against me

Her pussy tightens so hard around me, spasming so blissfully

With each massage of my fingers, her cunt creams my dick more and more

I keep my cock firmly buried in her cunt, starting to grind into her, making sure my head rubs her spot

I slide my free hand up her shirt, groping her boob, pinching her nipple

"Oh god", she cries, "Yoongi, don't stop"

"I'm not baby", I murmur against the back of her neck, pressing soft kisses to it, "Not until you cum all over my cock"

She whimpers, her pussy spasming wonderfully hard around my length

She's so fucking tight, it like her pussy is choking my cock and I'm living for every pulse

I play with her throbbing clit faster, her cunt a waterfall, soaking my pelvis and my thighs, her pretty moans music to my ears

She's close, I can tell from how her pussy's gripping my cock, how she's throbbing

And I know what she needs when she's right there

"Cum for me jagi", I murmur in her ear, "Want your pretty pussy coming all over my cock for me"

"Yoongi, oh god"

She falls apart at the next move of my fingers, orgasming all over me

"Yes baby. Don't stop", I murmur, her body shaking against mine, pleasure from her orgasm washing over me

It feels so fucking good and I wouldn't have it any other way

Her legs start to close as her orgasm continues

Letting go of her boob, I grip her thigh, holding it open

"Keep your legs open", I demand, "I didn't tell you to close them. I'm not done with you yet baby"

She nods, "Ok naekkeo"

"Good girl"

After she finishes, I hold her around her waist and keeping her leg over mine, I pull my hips back, feeling every inch of her pussy tug on my cock as I pull out to my head

"Ready for me jagi?"

She nods

I thrust my whole cock back into her, slamming her spot, her scream of pleasure sounding in the room

I move quickly, fucking her pretty pussy, incredible pleasure washing over me

Her pussy squelches with every thrust, the pornographic sound turning me on more

I pound into her, spreading her hole around my length, making her cunt cream every inch of my cock

She leans back, her arm moving around my neck, her lips crashing into mine

I throw myself into her kiss, my tongue against hers, kissing her hungrily as I fuck her pussy wide open

The kiss is messy, our tongues all over each other's and it's so right in this moment

She moves, pulling me out, then climbs on top of me, sliding down my cock to the hilt

"I need you baby", she murmurs, bouncing on my cock right away

Fuck, I need her

I move us, leaning against the couch cushion, my hands on her thighs

As she comes down, I thrust up into her cunt, going in so deep

"Yes, Yoongi", she cries, grinding on me when I'm all in

I watch her slide up my cock, her pussy cream coating my cock, making a big beautiful mess

She comes down, her pretty swollen lips wrapped around my length, her hole opening and straining as she takes me

Sliding my hands up, I push her shirt up and off, watching her pretty boobs bouncing in my face

She tugs on my shirt, whining as she rides me and I get the hint

As soon as my shirt is off, she leans her hands on my shoulders, fucking the life from me

The pleasure is exquisite and the view of her on my cock, the pleasure in her face is mesmerizing

I love this girl more than anything in this world

I start moving again, thrusting up into her pretty hole as she bounces down, the bliss increasing for both of us

"Yoongi, yes...yes baby", she pants, her gorgeous brown eyes on mine

"So fucking good jagi. Such a good girl for me", I murmur, the throbbing of her pussy becoming extremely hard and tight

We fuck each other, both sweating and the next thrust has her screaming as she cums

"Yoongi", she cries, her pussy squirting, soaking me, her head back, her hips rocking, eyes closed, her fingers digging into the skin of my chest

Ecstacy tidal waves over me, stars explode in my vision, my hand squeezing her thighs hard as I go over the edge, filling her cunt with my cum

"Joanne! Jagi!"

"Yoongi! Yoongi!"

I help her rock on me to prolong the bliss for both of us, my body shaking involuntarily

God, it's so fucking amazing

She's amazing

As we finish, her rocking slows down until she stops

Her eyes meet mine, a soft smile on her face

Her hand cups my cheek, her fingers stroking my skin, a loving look on her face as she gazes at me

"I love you"

My heart pounds in my chest, like it always does when I hear her say those words

"I love you", I tell her, smiling at her too

She leans down, her lips meeting mine

I immediately fall into her kiss, her arms moving around my neck, mine around her waist

As we kiss, we move, laying down, her body against mine, her soft skin against mine, our legs tangling together

Holding onto each other tightly, we cuddle and kiss each other with no intention to stop

[lovelaetter]

hii ! it's my first time writing & sending an ask so I'm kinda unsure what to say "( – ⌓ – ) but please hear me out on rosie posie ♡♡ quick psa, has a lot of context sorryyy

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ stepcest & kinda dubcon

⠀⸝⸝⸝⠀⠀( stepdaughter!reader × guilty!stepmom!rosé ) rosie feels so bad for seeing her daughter like that—she's supposed to be her mom, she married her father—but she just can't help herself. guilt building up 'n she gets all flustered whenever she sees you because her mind starts swirling and she just can't. you obviously notice because who wouldn't notice someone who's recently moved in ogling at them. oh my. rosie thinks she's being discreet because, once again, she married your dad, she's supposed to be attracted to him. but she swears she can see you staring back at her, stealing glances, but she refuses to give it thought. there's no way her now-daughter is going to reciprocate—that would be immoral.

but she can't help herself anyway, not when she's doing laundry and hopes you don't notice the fact some of your underwear is missing. when they appear again, this time with her own «ysl libré» scent, that's all the confirmation you need.

confronting stepmom!rosé is all a haze, rosie's not sure how she ended up eating you out as an 'apology', all she knows is that it feels so good to finally let go to her wants. you aren't very nice though, pulling on rosé's hair as to guide her and also what could be called a makeshift leash. rosie is sloppy, unsure, too pussy-drunk to actually do anything but loll her tongue out and deliver kitten licks. but that's okay, you have plenty of time to teach her mommy how to please her.

and then rosie can't believe she actually did that—but you can. ever so often teasing rosé by spreading their legs a bit wider than normal whilst they sit across from rosie during dinner. maybe also a bit of increased touchiness, discreet groping that makes rosé squeak and then cover it up with a cough. what else is she supposed to do? she'll have to admit she ate out her stepdaughter to get anything to stop. but she also doesn't mind your teasing, honestly, she loves it. she does get a good reward at the end of the day for being so good and quiet tho. she's so filthy for wanting her stepdaughter, the least she could do is behave for a small prize.

you're constantly reassuring rosie because who wouldn't want a pretty, older girl wrapped around their finger? rosé has never been one to go behind her lover's back, but now she can't help but picture you when she's giving her hubby a blow or when she's getting pounded dumb by your dad. but it's okay, you're still there to dumb her down even more.

⠀⸝⸝⸝⠀⠀she doesn't need to use her pretty head when all she has to do is just take it. maybe bent over the kitchen counter while your dad's at work. she's whining and tearing up because she's just so sensitive and one more finger would break her in half. something against that one spot is so different—so much better—than her husband mindlessly pounding into her. your fingers curl up and it just feels so good for her because it's not just her cervix, it's her spongy insides and swollen clit that are making her cry out in need.

taking her on the living room couch as well, some cheesy series you wanted to watch with her turning into her eating you out. she was a bit dumb to believe you actually wanted to just watch a movie—you're wearing loose clothes and your panties are peaking, you obviously have other intentions. there's even a bottle of lube shamelessly staring from the coffee table. all she can hear is the sounds from the TV turning into white noise as your moans drown out everything out. you're pulling and tugging on her hair, keeping her in place with your thighs, making sure she does well.

(I also have a few thoughts for roles reversed as in stepmom!reader corrupting stepdaughter!rosie (⸝⸝ ˊᗜˋ⸝⸝ ) but I think this is already long enough hahahah)

signed by ☃️

STEPCEST

yes, god, my head HURTS, i have nothing to add to this just yes… yes! if you don’t have a blog, i need you to create one asap and let me know bc !! i kinda want to live inside your mind ngl

and i might be suspicious about stepdaughter!rosie because i love the concept of her x older!reader so much, in my humble opinion she would only be allowed to date older women, so please share your thoughts on that too, i really want to hear them :(

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

It is fair that Iroh and Zuko don't punished for their crimes like Ozai did? Does redemption mean they deserve to be rewarded?

Before we ask ourselves what's fair, what's more practical: forgiving and cooperating with the two Fire Nation royals that can (and want to) use legitimate means to not only end the war but also help make up for what their nation has done, or to lock them up somewhere and then try to defeat a nation that has been kicking the good guys's asses for a whole century and possibly having to stage a coup to put someone non-Fire Nation on the throne, which the citizens would obviously reject?

Can the heroes (and the whole world) affort to NOT have the Avatar learn firebending just to make Zuko feel like shit for not being forgiven? Can the world afford to keep fighting with the Fire Nation non-stop instead of changing it from within just to punish Zuko by not making him Fire Lord? Does the world gain anything by imprisoning Iroh, the heir that got cast aside, the general that doesn't bother with battles anymore, instead of letting him fight for their side to make up for the evil he did in the past? Is that truly having the moral high-ground or is that simply being stubborn and stupid?

There's a reason most former colonies in the real world immediately create strong diplomatic connections and trade stuff with their former colonizer. Why terms for peace are constantly exchanged through wars, no matter how brutal the mutual attacks become. If you focus so much on punishing the bad guy that you forget about making sure the innocent survive, you're going to get everybody killed either by being obliterated by the enemy or by running out of resources (including people that are willing/able to fight for the cause).

Now, don't get me wrong, it's valid to wonder "Is it fair that Zuko and Iroh don't get punished?" But if we do that, we also have to ask "Is it fair to cause more suffering and death just to punish them?" and "Is it fair to put them in the same category as everyone else in their nation when they are genuinely sorry and making an effort to fix things?" Not to mention "Is it even fair to put Zuko, who changed sides as a teenager, in the same category as Iroh, who only felt remorse for his actions as an adult?"

People are complicated. Justice, as a concept, is complicated. War is fucking complicated, tough to end, and creates TONS of inherently unfair situations. The writers of Avatar are well aware of it, but their answer to the problem has been pretty consistent: rehabilitation.

We are repeatedly told "The people of Fire Nation itself are not inherently evil, they were literally indoctrinaded for a whole century" and "EVERYONE is capable of great good and great evil." Characters are redeemed in the show ALL THE TIME, and the last episode has Zuko, who was victimized by Ozai his entire life, say that he now believes even Ozai isn't beyond redemption - provided, of course, that he ever bothers to put any effort into it.

The show is well-aware that not everybody wants a second chance. Or a third, or a fourth, and so on. That not everybody even DESERVES said chances. But that the door should remain open anyway because that's the only way to move forward - and that doesn't have to mean "Let the bad guys walk all over you." Ozai, who has yet to show any remorse for anything, is still in jail, without his bending and political power, meaning he cannot hurt anyone (which he explicitly would have done if he could) and that's where he'll stay until he decides to change. Zuko and Iroh, who are already sorry, get to live in harmony with others.

This is as close to "fair" an inherently unfair situation could ever get.

[pleasedontcareaboutme]

It's missing my father hours rn so imma just dump a bunch of pictures here and cry

( sorry i don't know the source of anything I just had them on my phone)

(also dont read the tags i just need to let it out lol)

[mc-critical]

1.10 / 1.09

[girlthativealwaysbeen]

i think growing up is just life repeatedly sucker punching you and saying bitch you thought things were gonna better lmao no you're so naive and stupid for having hope in 20 years the world will be flaming bag of garbage and no matter how hard you work you'll get eliminated at some point

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

Anyway I got notified that I'll be getting a nice $$ bonus from work today and I wish that I could celebrate with someone in a way that didn't just feel like obnoxious bragging. Like beyond the financial aspect, it's just nice to be recognized for good work and I actually feel... good?? about this job??

But it feels so silly to say I want to celebrate when I just got back from what felt like my first real vacation in a very long time and am doing cool comic con stuff this weekend and am scheduled for a new tattoo next weekend. I am already doing lots of things to try to make myself feel good! It feels selfish to want more!

But I guess even with all of that, there's just still a hunger for external validation from trusted sources. Will I ever grow out of wanting someone to be proud of me?

[riiviir]

hey guys so I just started reading Flatland by Edwin A. Abbott and OMG AHSBNSBSBSNSNBSHZHSHDBFHGGHFHGRJ2KSHSBSNSK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE THINKING ABOUT THE RELATIVITY BETWEEN DIMENSIONS!!!!!!

[lurking-latinist]

⛵

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Had an ADHD assessment a few years ago and the fuckwit that assessed me said, as a direct quote, "You're too smart to have ADHD." Like that's not any type of paraphrasing, that stupid fucking statement is burned in my brain forever and has been since I heard it.

I talked to my psychiatrist about getting a referral to a different psychologist for assessment, and she agreed and sent it in.

Today I got a call that said they don't agree that I need reassessment, and I'm welcome to pursue it elsewhere, but they won't provide reassessment. Which is just.

I don't even know where to start with that one. I just needed to get it out. I'm so tired.