#feels like it was not this bad even just a few years ago

[flightyalrighty]

FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT CH 1 PG 36

Infested will return on June 27th. --- Thank you to the following Ascended supporters: @chaogongoozles, @fiiresiidefrfr, @elizard4227, @grogar, Ezzoh, @susivoi, @calculuscacophony, Eros, @ivycorp, @summersdale @borrelia, @mizukiz, @sanicdetails, @combinegrunt-echo-1, Pica, @veeceear, @quackenburt, ItsmeMonarch, @memendoemori, @trans-girl-sonic, & savarsenic

Content Warnings | Store | Ko-Fi | Read On Comic Fury! DISCLAIMER: "Infested" is a horror comic ft. content not suitable for those under the age of 17.

A long-winded looking back on things below the cut:

The first few pages of Infested were uploaded to this blog on March 2nd, 2023 -- Over a whole year ago! I was so busy, too, that I completely missed its birthday (Sorry Infested). Looking even further back than that, the original story was was something I began writing on December 25th, 2022 (Merry Christmas).

It took two years to get to this point.

And hey, not to toot my own horn about it, but completing even one chapter of a webcomic is a big deal. Especially for me. My first webcomic, Fight/Flight, didn't get very far. I completed the prologue, started Chapter 1, and then had to drop it for a number of reasons (I didn't really agree with what baby-me had to say, politically, anymore).

This comic was born from a lot of intense feelings. The story, itself, too. Some good. Some bad.

I had been forced to move away from my hometown, and with that move, I lost the physical connection that I had to all of my friends. I lost the familiarity of a place I'd known for most of my life. I'm now stuck somewhere... Worse. It felt like a cage. Still does. Disconnected from the life I thought I would be living after college. I didn't have health insurance, either -- Got kicked off of it because of the move -- And as a result, I was off my antidepressants.

So there I was, at a pretty low point in my life. I miserable and lonely and every single day dragged on. And on. And on. And I felt so disappointed in myself. That disappointment became self-loathing, and it all kinda spiraled.

Have I mentioned that I'm a huge Sonic fan? I don't think I need to. I'd say it's pretty obvious. But for the sake of this story, I'll say it again: I'm a HUGE Sonic fan. I've been that way since 2003 with Sonic Heroes. The franchise has been in my life for over two decades. I had a monthly mail subscription to Archie's Sonic the Hedgehog. Sonic the Hedgehog was something that I truly loved more than any other piece of media. It brought me endless joy. Until I didn't.

I had dropped Sonic after Lost World was... Itself. I had already felt pretty irritated with the Meta Era, and Lost World was the final straw. The last bit of hope that the series could recover was snuffed out when Forces was released. It was over. I was done. If Sonic was truly that embarrassed by itself, if they had truly lost touch with what made the series so great, then I wouldn't waste my time any longer. I was so sure that I had to just... Grieve and move on. My beloved childhood game series was dead. Long live the king or whatever. I'd just bitterly read IDW Sonic and think about what could've been. I was lucky to have that comic, at least. Archie had been canceled, too, after all. I was lucky to have my scraps.

Then Sonic Frontiers came out. And it changed everything.

And my god, it was everything. It was everything to me. Flaws be damned, it was everything. To. Me. The spectacle. The serious tone. The vastly improved writing. Kellin Fucking Quinn. It was FUN! It was actually FUN to PLAY. He was back. I was back. Sonic pulled me by my hand out of the ocean of misery I'd fallen into, and he looked me in my eye and he said;

"Hey. You're gonna be alright."

Metaphorically speaking. Sonic The Hedgehog didn't actually literally speak to me -- And sure, okay, maybe it's a little dramatic to describe a game as this great Depression Annihilator but I'm dead serious when I say that, for that time, before I was able to get back on my meds, I was self-medicating with Sonic.

Sonic was all I was thinking about. I reread the Unleashed arc in Archie Sonic, which got me sorta realizing something, and which led to my post where I said something along the lines of "Sonic would hide a zombie bite."

Archie Sonic would, at least. Because he basically did do that in the Unleashed arc of that comic. He let that problem fester until it became an even bigger problem because, ironically, he didn't want to be a problem.

So one thing led to another. I thought more about Sonic becoming a zombie. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Infested was born.

I didn't expect it to get the attention that it did. I felt lucky when the first page I drew Rouge on (Page 6 I think?) blew up. The right people saw it at the right time. I'm extremely grateful for that.

I'm extremely grateful for all of you.

So yeah, one chapter. Woo! Here's to many more.

[creedslove]

MAKING OUT WITH THE BRIDE'S FATHER - JOEL MILLER HEADCANONS ✨

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: the reason why I love Pedro so much is that he always makes me feel alive no matter how bad the situation is 💟

A/N #2: besties I'm so sorry about this Headcanon, I know it's sooooo bad, but I had the idea several weeks ago I think I don't really remember and I've been writing a little bit every day since but I went through a lot in a short time and I lost inspiration but at the same time it was really bothering me to see it lying in my drafts unfinished, I'm sorry it sucks, but I love you all 💕

• you met Sarah Miller when she was only a freshman girl, completely lost in her first day of college after she was dropped off and looking like a scared little deer even if she tried assuring you she was alright

• you were a few years older than her and you'd been there, so you pretended to believe she was alright but still offered her some help to get her dorm organized and simply find herself around campus; she quickly accepted it and that was how your friendship had started

• during the semester, you became one of Sarah's best friends; as you were always there to help her out, advise her or simply offer her some company or comfort the days she felt lonely and missed her family too much - you knew she didn't know her mom and she was raised by her dad and her uncle which you thought it was pretty awesome of them, but other than that, you didn't actually hear much about them, as you both often talked about other stuff

• and so the years passed and soon enough Sarah was graduating and marrying her college sweetheart, Ben, who'd been introduced to her by you during a party, so it was more than exciting to be invited to that beautiful party

• so you packed your bags, got yourself a decent place on Airbnb and went to Austin, to celebrate the wedding of your beloved friend, due to conflicting schedules, you could only get there a few days before the wedding, which ruined your plans of meeting Sarah's family, having dinner together and getting to the city, since the most you were able to do was just handle the last adjustment and details for your dress, help Sarah with the arrangements for the party and of course, party hard in her bachelorette party

• the bachelorette party was partially organized by you, as you never really knew how those things were supposed to go, other than just the scenes you saw in several movies, should you go to a male strip club? Should there be men half naked rubbing themselves against you and your friends? You weren't so sure, so you talked to Sarah and you picked a nice nightclub to dance and drink

• so you and your group of friends hit the club, all in your best clothes, nice heels and Sarah wearing a cute little party veil so everyone would know she was the bride to be. The night was perfect and you danced and drank as much as you wanted, knowing you could just call yourself a Uber to go home

• you stayed until the end of the party, your group of friends had all left home in different Uber rides and Sarah was picked up by Ben just some moments ago, so you grabbed your purse, paid for your part of your check and went to the parking lot, since your uber wouldn't take much to get there

• and that was when you saw him: easily the most handsome man you'd ever seen, older than you of course, tall, broad, brown hair salt and peppered and leaning against his truck. He seemed to be waiting for someone, but his attention was immediately shifted towards you, and he couldn't pay attention to anything else

• you just caught Joel's attention as you walked out of that bar; you didn't seem drunk or wasted, but definitely a little tipsy and while he wasn't a creep - Sarah had accidentally called him and asked him to pick her up and there was no way in the world he wouldn't come for his little girl, even if she wasn't little anymore and was going to be a married girl in a couple of days

• and even when she explained to her dad that she didn't mean to call him and he didn't need to pick her up because she was already going home with Ben - clearly drunk, which bothered Joel but he couldn't actually do anything about it - he said he was just going back to sleep, omitting the fact he was already at the parking lot waiting for her. She wasn't a child anymore, but he really missed when she was one because then, she would still be his sweet little Sarah wearing her cute star PJs to bed, and not exiting the club completely drunk like she did a while ago

• but all that whining went away in the blink of an eye once Joel spotted you, because he couldn't recall seeing a better looking woman at a bar in so fucking long, that or it was because he hadn't gotten laid in so long, his balls might've been blue but he wasn't just gonna empty them on the first woman he saw, so he just kept using his hand for it

• but you... He swallowed hard and decided to take a few steps towards you, after all, it wouldn't hurt just to make sure you were doing okay and no creeps were bothering you, because he wasn't a creep, he just wanted to make sure you were alright

• and when you saw Joel walking towards you, you felt your breath caught in your chest. He was so freaking handsome, big and manly, the kind of man to put you on all fours and fuck you while he whispers into your ear what a good girl for him you really are

• and you didn't remember much of your interaction with him, when you realized what you were doing, you were pressed against the hood of his truck, kissing him hungrily while his strong hands squeezed your body and roamed all over you; your hands messing up with his curls, tugging at them slightly as you moaned into his mouth, against better judgement you could let yourself be fucked by him at that moment

• however, you didn't even know his name, it was a dangerous game your body begged you to play, but your rational side was still too alert for it, so when you managed to see your Uber had arrived, you found strength in yourself to get rid of his intoxicating touch in your body and simply run to the car, you should've asked his name, but you didn't

• and the following days after that night at the bar, as much as you tried thinking of something else, all you could focus on, was that handsome man and the way he held you, he gripped your body and kissed you; it was different from any kind of touch you'd experienced, that mysterious man seemed addictive to you

• but as the wedding approached, your lustful thoughts had to be placed aside so you could focus on all the tasks you had to do: help Sarah get ready, check the venue for her and so on, not to mention getting ready yourself for the event, being so busy you totally skipped the part where you'd meet her family

• as you waited in church for her with the rest of your friends, you couldn't help but being extremely shocked to see Sarah walking down the aisle by her father, whom you had never actually seen before that night at the bar, but he happened to be your mysterious fling from the parking lot

• Joel also couldn't believe the hot girl he'd made out with was his daughter's best friend, he knew he was older than you even if you both hadn't much time to talk, but he didn't expect that

• you two had to stop those feelings aside so you could focus on the ceremony, but the way Joel kept glancing at you, made it pretty obvious you'd have a very interesting wedding reception afterwards 😉

____

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Hi 👋🏻 are you taking requests for the creators child AU.

Could the child be Alhaitham's or maybe Diluc's.

Thank you

The creator had

Such a smart child

WC: ~900

This feels more like a collection of head cannons but enjoy!

I believe Nahida would be able to dull the hit to the archons enough for them to not have a public outbreak like in other scenarios, so most of the gossip around is from people of sumeru.

“Stop speaking like that of the acting great sage! The matra will get you punished if they hear you talking like that”

“I'm not claiming anything! I'm just saying it's weird how much time he spent around them”

“They were reviewing the structure of the akademiya”

“Sure, and my wife and I were just studying so many years ago”

“Profesor…”

"that is why my daughter was finishing highschool when we both published our thesis. We were 38 but you get the point"

"professor please... Stop..."

It has been a running rumor for a few months, but nobody really believes it, the stone faced great sage and their welcoming grace? No, never, impossible. There are scholars attempting to refute it but their attempts are short-lived as a few months later you settle back in sumeru, and your lazyly hanging robe you wear now is pushed slightly forward around the abdomen, just enough for it to be an untold fact.

“Why am I returning? I guess it just felt right, given everything” slowly after the theory took traction.

On the later months the baby gets calm whenever he is read books, the kicking stopping for as long as anyone recited paragraphs of dense knowledge, it was a common occurrence for you to tag along thesis defenses, something that professors enjoyed the opportunity of chat you up and students suddenly put delays because of sickness on masse.

“I wonder why they are all so nervous to defend their statement! I don't even ask them questions for them to be scared of me!”

“I think regardless of what you did or didn't do any of them would be at ease”

“And I heard they sit through thesis defenses and lectures because the child is calm hearing long speeches”

“I heard that too! I even heard that once they summoned one of the great sages to read a book so they could fall asleep”

“Really! Could it be…” the teen girl looks at her friend mischievously “great sage al haitham?” Making her friend look away feigning not knowing.

°•°

“I'm extremely sorry for calling you so late, Haitham” you lay on your bed, back flush against the wall. The covers on your lap make little to cover the almost watermelon sized bump “I attempted to read to see if he calmed down on his own but when I stop he starts kicking up a storm”

Alhaitham drags your vanity stool to your bedside, a soft creaking sound coming from the friction between the woods. He just hums as he skims the bookshelf “don't fret so much, it's only natural for me to do this” his fingers dance softly caressing the spines of various books ranging from Inazuma novellas to published investigation on bird care “what has been working best? Early language dictionary? Transcripts of old manuscripts?”

“alchemical botany has been doing alright”

“great, it's coming out to be a spantamad or amurta. I'm sure Tighnari and Cyno will be elated with the news” he rolls his eyes and pulls out a leather bound book with vine engraving.

“Aww, is someone jealous?”

“I'm just saying that something like ‘development of runic language during the last 300 years’ might be more interesting” you just snicker “weren't you attempting to sleep? Close your eyes”

You side down the pillows with a smile on your lips “fine, if you don't want to read alchemical botany why don't you use the white book?” as he glances over he read the simple title ‘weight distribution in columns depending on materials’ and sighs heavily.

“Spantamad might not be so bad.”

There is a small whisper in the last few months that the child could be meant to be one of the great sages but the matra keeps it down when someone starts with it.

When he is born Alhaitham reads to his son some of the books he kept from his parents.

The one year old is perched on his lap, leaning against one of his arms while they both look at the book, one of them reading attentively the words and explaining some concepts while the other is attempting to fall asleep.

“I doubt he is truly listening to you”

“You would be surprised by how much the biology faculty showed children can learn before school”

“I believe they meant before the 5 years mark, not 6 months”

Maybe even wants you to do something similar, it could be an essay, thesis or even storybook but he would want it to have some banter between you two or little comments like “it's good that you remembered to spell correctly postganglionic fibers, I don't have to correct you anymore”

He uses kaveh as an underpaid nanny just plopping the toddler on his lap and leaving without saying a word. He does stop when his son's drawings start to feature more houses and structures than people.

“Are we sure he is mine?”

“For the sixth time, yes. He is a carbon copy of you”

When your baby grows he is the smartest of his class, reciting everything his father read to him since before his birth, even if he refuses to acknowledge it al haitham is really proud of his son and his little shelf with math Olympics medals or the certificate he got from the first place in a writing competition.

Even then the moment your son turns 18 and has to decide what branch he wants to go into is the hardest week of his life, dreading the possibility of another architect in his life. He is quite happy when he choses spantamad, even if he would have like him to go for haravatat.

[your-honor-im-zesty]

Nico was having a good day.

He was having a really good day, actually. He’d been allowed to sleep in (an anomaly indeed), had gone for a walk with Mrs. O’Leary, and even received word from Hazel that she’d been granted permission to visit next week. All while being blissfully free of Will Solace. Son of Apollo, head medic of the infirmary and the resident pain in his ass. 

It wasn’t that he hated Will- to the contrary, when the blond wasn’t squawking about the medical dangers of shadow-traveling or pestering Nico to drink water (dehydration was apparently very bad), he could be…nice. Funny. Chill. Cute, even. His humor even resembled Percy’s, to some degree. In fact, Nico could see them being acquaintances, almost. 

But unfortunately for him, Will Solace seemed to only have two settings whenever he was within Nico’s presence: annoying and loud. 

“Shadow-traveling again?” he said accusingly as Nico emerged from the shadows of the pavilion. “Come on, di Angelo, you know that’s a health hazard-”

“Running your mouth is also a health hazard,” Nico muttered as he brushed past the blond, making his way towards the Hades table. “I don’t see you shutting up, do I?”

Will spluttered indignantly behind him, while the rest of the Apollo kids exchanged wide grins. Fuckers. It must be a family trait to be a little shit. 

The Hades table was empty, as usual, which was fine. Nico liked it that way- quiet, alone, peaceful. He didn’t need all that chatter and rowdiness that came from all the other tables. In fact, he shuddered to think of what would happen if he had to sit through that every day. 

He watched as Connor Stoll grabbed a banana peel and hurled it towards his brother, Cecil, who ducked and hollered, “Motherfucker, I’ll get you for that!” Thank the gods for being an only child, he thought. 

Still, there was a part of him that ached for Hazel’s presence. Even if it was promised to him a week from now. 

—----------

It was halfway through lunch that Nico noticed something peculiar.

Well, more peculiar than usual. The demigods at Camp Half-Blood were the weirdest you could get; he’d seen some pretty strange stuff the last few years. In fact, weird was normal when it came to these people. He’d learned long ago not to question it and to just accept that he was surrounded by idiots.

But this was something peculiar even for him. 

Will Solace. 

Nico wasn’t trying to notice him (he swore he wasn’t), it was just…natural. Really, with that blond hair and peppy demeanor, anyone would notice Will. Nico was pretty sure that a lot of people, in fact, noticed Will. Often. Very often. (Not that he was one of them, or anything. Nico wasn’t weird like that.)

He saw the tears first. 

Will’s eyes were his strongest characteristic: blue, bright, and round. Always crinkling, widening, narrowing- always doing something. The vividness of those eyes always gave off the impression he could read your mind, your feelings, your thoughts. It was unavoidable, really, to be captivated by those eyes. 

But the baby blues were now welling up, growing glossy and wet. Tears. Nico didn’t even know Will was capable of crying- it was a foreign notion, an impossible thought. It was like Annabeth being stupid or Leo being serious. Very rare, and very unlikely.

He watched, dimly aware that his mouth was open, as Will Solace- the sunshine boy of Camp Half-Blood- flung himself out of his chair, wiped his eyes furiously, and rushed out of the pavilion, crying. 

What the hell?

—---------

“What are you doing here?”

Nico stood in the strawberry fields, hands hanging awkwardly by his side. He was painfully aware of the oppressive heat (where had the good weather gone?) and the mosquitos buzzing around them. Fuck. He really should’ve just stayed at the pavilion. 

“I dunno.”

Will’s eyes were bloodshot and swollen- his lips were still trembling, like he might again burst into sobs any moment. Nico hoped he didn’t. He never knew what to do when people cried- hug them? Tell them it’s okay? Reassure them that he was there? Each person always seemed to expect a different thing, and Nico was never able to deliver.

“Do…do you wanna talk about it?” he asked tentatively. 

“No.” Will’s voice was harsh; it felt like a slap. Which was stupid, really, since Nico himself never liked talking to people about things. 

“I’m fine,” the blond added, wiping his eyes again. His disheveled appearance contradicted him so severely Nico almost felt like laughing. “Just…tired. That’s all.”

Tired. Lack of sleep tired or out of patience tired? Nico really wished people would elaborate sometimes. It would make social situations so much easier. 

“You don’t have to talk,” he said. “Just…come, I guess? Everyone’s looking for you.”

That part was true. Immediately after he’d run off, the entire Apollo cabin had run after him, calling his name, pleading him to come back. They were out searching for him right now, in fact, along with probably half the camp. How Nico and just Nico had been the one to find Will was beyond him. 

Will sighed and rose from where he was sitting; his shirt was muddied and his fingers were clenched around strawberries he’d picked from the fields. Up close, he looked less like a 15 year old kid and more like a war veteran. 

“I’m fine,” he said, as though Nico had asked. “Really. I am.”

Nico looked at him. “Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

He wasn’t an expert on reading expressions- he always seemed to do those wrong, even as a little kid- but he could tell that the look Will gave him wasn’t it’s usual scathing or exasperated manner. It was tired, yes, but it also held a glimmer of relief and…appreciation. 

Will Solace. Still a pain in his ass, but maybe not as bad as before. 

-----

this is genuinely some of my best work i think.

also yay enemies to lovers solangelo :D

[chronically-ghosted]

Taylor!!! Happy 1k to you!!!!! So well deserved. Hope you’re having fun celebrating 💕

💫- “Do you have to leave right now?” “I can stay for a little while longer.” with big soft guy Frankie Morales please 🥰

Em xx

heat lightning

rating: teen pairing: frankie morales x f!reader word count: 1.1K summary: this is not your frankie warnings: angst, reader and frankie have a daughter, proceeds the events of the movie, everyone's having a really bad time a/n: thank you for your request, Em! i know i don't usually do angsty!frankie but i think this scene had been brewing in my head for a while and i wanted to try it out! love you so much and i hope you like it!

🤍Masterlist 🤍 Frankie Morales Masterlist

When you were nine, your aunt and uncle divorced. An ugly thing – lots of crying, late nights up with your mother, arguments over the phone, loyalties tested, lines drawn in the sand. You didn’t understand much of it at the time, but there was always a moment that imprinted on your young psyche that has stayed there ever since.

You can almost smell the spilt wine on the carpet in the living room, hear your mother muttering and blotting with one hand, the other on her sister’s knee. You couldn’t see your aunt’s face from your perch on the staircase. Perhaps because it was elicit – you had been put to bed hours ago – or because you were curious – you had never seen an adult cry before – but you can recall the memory as if it were yesterday. From between the banisters of the stairs, only your aunt’s back was visible, hunched over and swaying as if unable to hold herself up right. It reminded you of your baby brother before he could hold his neck – precarious and loose in a way that was almost horrific in its vulnerability. She sways, back and forth, your mother’s hand on her knee - it’s alright, it’s just a spill, we’ll clean it up, don’t worry, it won’t stain – and then your aunt mutters the words you will forever remember for the rest of your life. The words butting up against each other, slurred on top of each other, she whispers:

“I woke up to a stranger.”

You think about your aunt and your mother and the fights and the wine and the calls and how you never saw your cousins much after that as you stare up at the shadowed ceiling, as lighting blinks reality white for a fraction of a second. Thunder rumbles, angry like your aunt, but for some reason you can’t feel anger. You don’t know what you feel but your jaw remains slacked, your joints sink into the sheets, your throat clear. 

Another growl of thunder, a single shriek of the alarm clock at 3AM, and Frankie’s hand slaps it silent, the alarm unnatural and too loud, threatening to bring the ire down from some great furious eye. Rage you couldn’t begin to grasp at, but wished for. The fortifying self-righteousness of anger would feel lovely right now. 

Instead, all you can hear is your aunt’s drunken words. 

Beside you, Frankie is still through the next beat of thunder, the spark of lightning, and then he sits up. He faces away from you, shoulders rounded like your aunt, but firm and steady unlike your aunt. In the next snap of lightning, you watch the planes of his back glow, muscle and scars and bone and sinew just as familiar to you as your own hands. You could trace Frankie blind-folded if you had to. Your hand goes to him as it has an incalculable amount of times over the past few years, unaware of what your conscious mind knows: you can’t make him stay.

A stranger – how can he possibly be a stranger to me?

Your hand on his lower back stirs him, waking up to the heat of your palm.

“It won’t be long,” he says for the dozenth time, a mantra for him as well as you. “I’ll be back before Alejandra’s party.” 

The Frankie you know, the Frankie you love would never even risk missing his daughter’s birthday. This hulking thing in the shape of your husband sees it as something worth losing, in favor of money. This hulking thing in the shape of your husband wants to provide, wants to prove there is a sliver of a better man beneath the coke addiction, beneath the suspension of his license. It wants to provide, provide, provide when all it does to you is take. 

Neither of you know this now but it will take him over a month to come back, empty handed but filled to the brim with more nightmares than before. One month to the day of this night, you will google, “when is a missing person presumed dead?” and then close your laptop so hard, it shatters and you blow a hole in your bedroom wall with the force you throw it across the room. 

This hulking thing in the shape of your husband is foreign to you, strange, but it still smells like him. Sounds like him. Has the same warm cup of his hands. 

When you don’t respond, or even beg, he moves to stand, the slats under the bed groaning. He promised to fix those months ago. 

He stands and your fingers curl around your husband’s wrist. Even the beat of his pulse sounds just like Frankie’s. But this is not your Frankie.

You hope to God and whatever else is listening that Frankie finds himself in the dark bowels of that wet jungle. 

Your mouth dry and your own heartbeat loud in your ears, you look up at him, into those dark brown eyes that make up your whole world. They are unfamiliar to you as they watch you with an emotion you can’t ever remember seeing in his eyes before. 

“I know you have to go,” and you do, you know this is something he has to do for himself, not for you or your daughter, but himself and there’s nothing you can do to stop him. “But do you have to leave right now?”

This hulking thing that smells like your husband, sounds like your husband, maybe loves you like your husband goes still. Beneath your fingertips, you swear his heartbeat slows. Lightning flashes again and you lose completely the shadowy outlines of his face in the total darkness.

And in that flash, his wrist slips out from between your fingers – this thing is going to be intentionally cruel as he cuts the cord and takes off with the soul of your husband – and then a broad hand slips down to your shoulder, your elbow. Gently pushing, guiding you back onto your side, he slips back under the covers, encasing your body in skin and warmth you know so well,  muscle and scars and bone and sinew just as familiar to you as your own hands. His breath is soft, relaxing as he curls around you and you hate this thing even more because it really does a wonderful impersonation of your husband, the man you love, the man you will always love. 

You let the tears come because you know they won’t break his fickle stone heart and you need relief. 

He holds you as you cry, his nose in your ear as he says, 

“I can stay for a little while longer.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

🍣🍤🦪(for ID)

AITA for talking about rejecting a confession on a discord server without realising that the person who confessed was also in the same discord server? This happened a few years ago but I still think about it a lot. At the time I (19F) got confessed to by my friend, M (19NB) on new years day through discord. I'd been pretty much best friends with them for a couple of years, we initially met online through fandom and found out we (and a few other online friends) live in the same city and met up every few months to go to cons, eat food, watch movies, etc. Looking back on it in hindsight, I guess a few things we did could have been interpreted as being 'romantic' but I didn't realise it, both as an aroace who has never had any inclination towards romance or intimacy and as at the time as I went to an all-girls high school and my highschool friend group generally is very touchy, as in we hug, link arms as we walk, hold hands when we're chilling, and that behaviour definitely bled into my relationships with my online friend group when we'd meet up irl. I'd also been going on these outings with just M more recently, since we both were in University and our schedules matched up really well. I was working my waitress job on new years day, since it was super busy I ducked into a back room to catch a break and pulled out my phone and I see a message from M confessing to me. It definitely blindsided me and I panicked a bit since this was the first time anyone has ever confessed to me or even made a move towards me that I noticed but I definitely did not reciprocate any feelings in the same way. I tried to let them down as nicely as I could and they asked for some time but said they'd be ok with being just friends, eventually. This is the point where I kind of fucked up, I went into a larger server's vent channel and kind of freaked out in there, pretty much right after the conversation. I never stated any names or revealed any incriminating information, more along the lines of "I just got confessed to and I rejected them but what if it ruins everything because they're my best friend" but I didn't realise that M was also in the same server, they'd never ever spoken in it and since we were in pretty much dozens of servers together, that specific server was cascaded pretty far down the "mutual servers" list. I only realised they were there when they sent me a dm asking me not to talk about it and I asked if they wanted me to delete, which they said yes and I did. We didn't talk again after that and M left all the mutual servers we'd been in. I actually dropped off all contact from that group for a few months, since M was the one to introduce me to that friend group, I felt really ashamed especially because it felt like my friends there were M's friends first. M's mental health was also really bad and they'd mentioned that they'd self-harmed before and tried to take drastic measures before and the guilt kind of ate at me for months until they dmed me again and I did my best to apologise for my actions, which they accepted and we agreed to be amicable if we ever met up coincidentally again. Then they acted like a snake about some other friend drama so like BYE and this was a few years ago so I don't really care but every now and then I still think that if I didn't speak about the confession in that disc server maybe I could've maintained a friendship with them.

AITA for talking about the rejected confession in a discord server without knowing the confessor was in the same discord server?

[itsoka-y]

Alright chat is time to ask the real questions here and by real questions I mean who of these kids is chronically online and what flavor of chronically online are they. I bring forth some of my choices (plus a few headcanons)

I just know she ran a Tumblr account like the navy during the golden years where Superwholock reigned supreme I just can feel it in my bones. She also strikes me as someone who enjoys a bit of a conspiracy but she'll have an alternate account for that (and also I think this was a phase for her to develope her writing and journalism skills through her posts even though she was kinda pulling some things out of her ass sometimes but then again she was 13)

Kinda self-explanatory if not even canon. He'd be one of those annoying ass otakus who try to gatekeep fucking naruto of all things because if you cannot name the sharingan Sasuke used in episode 234 then you're not a real fan.

(i have not watched a single episode of Naruto and it shows i'm sorry)

He's also a misogynist and would engage in discourse with any fujoshi that crosses his timeline because why you forcing Naruto and Sasuke to be gay?

Unrelated but this is like my favorite picture of him of all time i'm afraid he's the only man i'll choose over a bear

My favorite headcanon is that he's the wildest card you'll ever cross paths with in your life. Like you see him from afar and you kinda get a feel for what he's going to be like (shy, polite bordering on coy, reserved etc. etc.) but then you get to meet and sure it's not like he's outregous or anything but him cracking a galvinazed steel and eco-friendly wood venneer joke or him sending one of those alpha images of an anthropomorphic wolf ripping its shirt would have never crossed your mind. And he has such a wide range as well; one day he's referencing world is mine by hatsune miku the next day you hear him quote breaking bad (someone cooked here) after someone scores a goal with a new hissatsu technique. He definitely knows what the omegaverse is

He really is oomf

Queen of tiktok. She'd be one of those younger gen z kids/older gen alpha that kinda romanticizes being a fangirl during the 2010s and feels nostalgia for it even if she never lived through those years. She also dabbles into some of the booktok territory, but I don't see her as those who only care for books based on "spicyness" but one of them "you like enemies to lovers because you want to believe that someone will fall in love with you even after seeing the ugliest parts first" kinda gals

When he's not training or working to support his little siblings, you bet your ass he's on facebook. He shows you memes that were relevant like two or three whole years ago but you don't have the heart to tell him so you just awkwardly laugh, reinforcing the cycle (the only ones who'd genuinely find them funny would be Tsunami but that's only because he's chronically offline)

He's so out of the loop and let's pray to god It stays that way. Bless his little soul

Hear me out. Terrible case of ipad kid even if he got out of it. I mean, he was playing to recreate the fire tornado when he was five years old and I like to imagine him as that one scene of little deku asking his mom to play on the computer the video of all might saving people but it's him pestering yuuichi to play him a compilation of all of Gouenji's hissatsu techniques. I find it adorable thank you very much. He's still lurking somewhere on twitter with his private account (he has 0 followers and he'd like for it to keep being that way) where he just vents about his life and feelings (look he's gone through so much and he needs a place to let it all out ok?) and retweets stuff from other emo kids online. I also know his spotify playlists are curated to perfection

As any child with a troubled home life, he copes by being an absolute MENACE online. He for sure has told people to off themselves at some point. Has sided with Drake during this years beef with Kendrick Lamar for the hell of it (doesn't even listen to the guy's music). Thank god the FFI wasn't running digital footprints' checks way back when because his ass would not have made the call into the team because of it. Got tamer as an adult and realized how fucked up some of the shit he was doing and saying was but has still gotten into trouble for some of his old tweets (he's definitely ruffled some feathers for quite a few football fans online and is quite the controversial character, you either love him or hate him i fear)

Same as Fudou but whereas Fudou was trolling through the league of Legends chat and on call of duty lobbies this one was trolling on fortnite. Maybe even roblox

And that would be it. Feel free to add as many other characters as you feel like because this is so fun to do and I want to see someone else's takes to this kinda thing 🫣

[friesian]

my father is dead and i couldn't be happier.

the following is a sort of. reconciliation/vent post since i just got the news a few hours ago that my father died, and i finally feel like i can sort of talk about everything that happened to me as a child. for the first time. without the threat of potential violence. so. tw for neglect, abuse, parental death and honestly just. a lot. if you don't like the most stereotypical 'bad dad' shit, don't read this post.

my father was a cruel man. it was only until recently i was informed that my father used to actually shake me as a baby, no more than a few days old. when i was a few months old, he used to do the same to watch my 'funny reactions' and had to be actively reprimanded by aunt and mother in order to get him to stop lest i die a very sudden death.

when i was a little kid, my father i guess got this idea in his head that i was a little innocent flower and that if anything touched me, that'd be it. i'd be sullied. i'd be dirtied. somehow 'impure'. mind you, my father wasn't a religious man. really, honestly, the opposite. i wasn't allowed to talk about religion or god, explore spirituality, really have 'faith'. this would earn me hostile looks, a loud scolding, or called stupid. this also might displace onto my mom, who received it much worse than me.

when i was 7, my father made the move to go somewhere out into the deep west virginia mountains where i would never be in danger. except by him. we moved to a place where the closest store was 45 minutes by car, getting home from school was 35 minutes-- not counting school bus routes, that was up to 2-3 hours-- and there was not a single neighbor that could see the house nor talk to us. we were alone. for good. for over 11 years of my life i was alone in a house with a man who grew actively more and more hostile to being in that house. as i aged, tried to be a teenager, explore my gender, sexuality, ect. it was all shut down. my computer-- my only lifeline-- was bugged with spyware that allowed him to look at my screen and take control of anything i was doing. a vivid memory of mine is when i used to write fanfiction of innocent teenager things. kissing, holding hands, professions of love, the usual-- nothing explicit. at some point i was caught and had my computer thrown and i was screamed it. i could only run to my room and cry, and hope i wasn't chased. this left me with no sense of privacy, as any computer or technology i ever got passed through him, and as he was a engineer for networking, most things were bugged by him first as much as i tried to remove them. my mom suffered similarly to i, both of us being called slurs and having things thrown at us for existing in his radius. we walked on eggshells. we had no room to breathe. if we weren't in his general space, we were yelled at for avoiding him. if we were actually there, we were yelled at for laughing or even breathing too loud. there was no right answer. my friends never wanted to visit because of him, or he would often get mad at their parents for being 'flakes' or 'untimely', leading for me to be berated about my choice of friend. i wasn't allowed to go out unless it was with 'other girls', and i didn't have many friends to begin with due to the many social problems i faced due to his neglect. i grew up in that house, with many other issues i can't even begin to list, but i grew up and left as soon as i could, and didn't really do much. mostly just coasted by after dropping out of college that he pressured me to be in, lest i end up homeless. my mom divorced him shortly after i left due to being threatened with a gun, and at that point i was pretty sure he was officially off the deep end. this is sort of my 'getting it off my chest' moment as i was never able to speak out about what i faced in any regard due to him consistently monitoring my online presence. for all i know, he could've known about this blog-- choosing to hold onto it for some sort of legal proceeding as he had done to my mother. he tracked her car, recorded her calls, did everything he could to fuck her over. his father did something similar to him back in the 90s, and i needed to avoid it at all costs.

he never got the chance now. i never felt like i had a father, more like an angry dragon that guarded a tower with someone who didn't wanna be there. some sort of 'king' that transformed into a dragon, i suppose. but, i remember relating a lot to the imagery of people trapped in towers by beasts. i wanted to make a comic about it at one point. 11 years of solidarity does a lot to a motherfucker.

to this hour, i haven't shed a tear. i cheered and celebrated, put on my mask as i'm talking to the funeral home people, family, his friends, whatever it is. i've just been blaise and calm. i have to go back to my 'tower' this weekend and see it for the first time in years, now with the memory of my father dead seeped in those walls.

it's been a relief i didn't know i needed, but that house haunts me with the horrors that went on in it. i guess this is sort of my testimony to his life. i refuse to have a funeral. i refuse to have a memorial. he's being cremated and disposed of as soon as i can. i can already tell what little remains of his side of the family has an issue with it, but i don't care. they didn't live the life me and my mom had, and they never will now. for what it's worth, somehow, even though i was forged in fires that i don't think any man should go through-- it made me a more hardened and aware person. you get time to think when you're alone for 11 years. a lot of time to see emotions, patterns, understand, and just pick things apart. he never knew me, elf, he knew my dead name. and i'm thankful for that. i came out a good man all things considered, i have my flaws and issues, but who doesn't. but at least i never was like him. here's to getting out of the tower.

[integra1127grimmreaper]

Isn't My Affair Anymore (Dave York)

Warning: Angst, mention of cheating and pending death.

Summary: After being part of Dave's team for four years, three of those years being romantically involved with him; you come to the realization that you want more, and that the relationship is over. Inspired by - Linda Davis' - He Isn't My Affair Anymore.

"Hey" Resnik nudges you in greeting as he takes a seat to you at the bar.

"Hey..." you flash him a strained smile in return.

"You ok?" Resnik frowns after immediately noticing the change in character.

"Peachy" you utter, lifting your drink in the air in mocked salute.

"You're sure 'bout that? 'Cause, you weren't at the meeting yesterday. Thought you were sick or something..."

"What meeting?" you frown at Resnik in confusion.

"The upcoming job in a few days? In Brussels?" a confused Resnik answers. "Didn't Dave fill you in?"

"Pfft, York and I aren't on speaking terms" you remark with an eyeroll, tossing the last of your drink back.

Resnik's jaw drops in disbelief at your words, "what...? But the two of you are practically joined at the hip."

You respond with a nonchalant shrug, signally the bartender for another drink.

I guess she's doing something right I seldom see him out at night Sure isn't like it used to be Why should it mean a thing to me What makes you think that I would even care He isn't my affair I haven't seen him for some time But so what is that a crime Well if I had to guess I'd say It's been twelve nights to the day I hope that isn't pity in your stare He isn't my affair

*

"Hold up..." Resnik utters out gobsmacked at the information. "He didn't seem like anything was wrong. Said you were busy with something when asked where you were and that You'd be sitting this one out."

"Typical York..." you snort against the rim of your glass, "always deflecting shit he can't handle."

"I still don't understand" Resnik shakes his head, utterly confused. "What? When? Why?"

"'Bout two weeks ago. Ghosted me" you grunt out in response.

A dumbstruck Resnik stares open-mouthed at you, "why...?"

Exhaling heavily, you place the glass down. Staring at the palms of your interlocked hands for a while, you finally speak. "I casually mentioned about possibly going on a date with someone."

Resnik's jaw dramatically drops at your words, "you didn't...?"

"Gossip Girl much...?" you snort, shaking your head. "Jesus, not sure why I always confide my secrets to you?"

"'Cause, I'm the closes thing to a best friend you'll ever have..." Resnik smugly grinned at you.

"Don't remind me of how barren my life is..." you groan out, palming your face.

Your life is anything but barren..." Resnik drawls with an eyeroll, lightly nudging you then. "What did he do after you told him?"

Shoot him sharp glare, you snort in amusement. "Only spoke one word. 'Why?'. So, I told him... that being in my thirties has made me yearn for stability, for family life. Not only that, but I'm at a stage in life that the nature of our 'side job' demands for me to get the extra cover of 'normal family woman'... you know, with whole husband and kids 'thing'."

Resnik cringingly sucks in air, "bet he wasn't too happy hearing that..."

"He just stared at me for a few seconds, then left" you reply, taking another sip of your drink.

"You seem completely unbothered by all of this..." Resnik remarks, studying you through narrowed gaze.

He isn't my affair anymore We're not that "quite the pair" we were before And yes he's still the one that I adore But he isn't my affair I didn't say I wasn't sad But then again it's not so bad Sure my heart still feels the ache But I hear his name and I don't break The pieces are so small that I don't dare And he isn't my affair

*

"Ee... it is what it is..." you nonchalantly shrug.

"Nah..." Resnik scowls, shaking his head in disapproval, "doesn't sit right with me."

"Why not?" you challenge him with an arched brow.

"You and Dave are the perfect match. You're meant to be together."

"Well, I'm at a stage in my life that I want more" you respond, "I want to become a wife and a mother, and that is never going to happen with him."

"Says who?" Resnik challenges your remark.

"Says his wife and children" you retort matter-of-factly.

Letting out a tense breath, Resnik's head drop in defeat. "Forgot about that... but may-"

"Doesn't matter" you cut him off. "The affairs of Dave York have nothing to do me anymore."

"But..."

"Drop it Resnik" you shoot him a warning glare. "Besides, the only problem I have at this moment; is having to prepare for when York comes to shut me up."

"What do you mean?" Resnik frowns in confusion.

"You honestly believe that York's going to allow me to live?" you chuckle out. "It's obvious that I'm no longer part of the team, which means I'm a liability, a loose end that needs to be taken care of..."

"Dave wouldn't do that" Resnik violently shakes his head in disbelief.

You flash him a sad smile, "then you don't know him as well as you think you do."

Resnik's eyes glaze over with unshed tears as he silently stares at you in denial. Getting up, you pay the bill, tipping down to press a kiss to his forehead. "Take care of yourself, and good luck on the job."

As you move to leave, Resnik grabs hold of your arm. "I still don't believe he'd do it... but maybe if I talk to him..."

You smile at him one last time and shrug, "que sera sera..."

He isn't my affair anymore We're not that "quite the pair" we were before And yes he's still the one that I adore But he isn't my affair... 

[tigergirltail]

TIGER HRT CHAPTER 4 - MONTH 3 - GROWING PAINS

First - Prev - Next

Everything hurts.

I started noticing it about two weeks after my first dose. It felt like a dull headache at first, but over the next month it spread to pretty much my entire body.

I had to start working from home, and eventually it got bad enough that I could only put in a few hours of work each day. My boss is a reasonable enough guy, but he wasn't going to pay a full time salary for part time hours, so I had to take a salary cut.

Luckily, my partner is around to take care of daily errands, not to mention being there to reassure and comfort me when the pain gets bad. They've been thinking about seeing if Lindwurm HRT is a thing, but they don't want to get the process started until I'm in the clear and can take care of myself again.

Gods I love them.

The reason the pain is happening, as best I can tell, is that my skeletal structure is already changing. I've gotten at least an inch taller, and my face has been reshaping into a feline muzzle. My teeth are getting sharper, and I'm developing proper fangs. I also noticed a little while ago that my fingernails and toenails had receded into their respective digits, which sucks for two reasons - I can't paint fingernails I don't have, and they are sore as HELL when I put any amount of pressure on them. I have to be REALLY careful with how I type to not inflict agony on myself. I'm also feeling my tail growing in, and even if it hurts, it's euphoric as HELL. A tail was always the part I wanted most out of this.

It's weird, the skeletal changes weren't supposed to happen this early. I've been trying to reach Dr. Erian about it, but he's constantly busy, probably because of the sudden surge of people looking for Humanity Removal Therapy.

Other than that, I've been getting areas of white and black fur coming in - mostly on my arms and legs, but a little bit on my face and ears - ears that are gradually reshaping and migrating. Nothing to report on hearing sensitivity, but I think my night vision is getting better.

I did a little bit of looking around for anyone with similar pain experiences. I got my hopes up when I found a girl, Antonina, who had a painful experience with Cat HRT, but it turns out it's because she took the rumoured Fifteen Minute version. She described the pain as "like bathing in an active volcano".

It leaves me wondering whether I would have preferred a 15-minute lava bath over a months-long full-body headache.

I ended up reaching out to her anyway, just because I wanted to know what I was in for in the endgame and feline HRT is rarer than I thought it would be. Sounds like the prey drive is the real deal - she keeps feeling the urge to bite this one girl who's on mouse HRT.

We've been spending some time comparing notes and getting to know each other. It's nice to know someone else who's going through this thing, even if our experiences aren't exactly one-to-one.

I also talked to my mother for the first time in nearly a year. I went No Contact with her a while back because she was only getting more obnoxious and combative about me being trans, but I figured changing my species is a big enough deal that I should keep her in the loop.

Besides, my savings had nearly dried up and I needed to ask her for money.

It… did not go well. She hadn't heard of therian HRT before, and once I explained it, she started panicking about how I'm "mutilating my body" with "untested treatments". I think I also heard her cry something about how her "son" is "killing himself", which is just multiple layers of insensitive.

At least she sent me some money. Hopefully it'll be enough to last until my transformation stops being agonizing and I can go back to work, and then I can go right back to pretending my family doesn't exist.

At roughly the three-month mark, I have a check-in video call with Dr. Erian. From the moment his face appears on screen, though, I can tell something is wrong. He seems… older, somehow.

"Hello, Miss Alexis.", he offers. He sounds tired. Sorrowful, even.

"Hey, doc." I have to ask about it. "Everything okay? You seem a bit tired."

"Nothing to worry about Miss Alexis, just the ordinary stresses of daily life."

Liar. I know I'm not entitled to details of your personal life, much less your professional secrets, but I know when something is eating at someone.

"…Does the word 'crossroads' mean anything to you, Miss Alexis?"

Huh? That came a bit out of left field. "I've… heard some other therian HRT patients use the term, but I don't know much of the details. Something about a point of no return?"

"Something of the sort." He lowers his head and seems to go from sorrowful to downright grim. "There will come a time, Miss Alexis, when you will have to make a very important decision in your care, and I ask that you do so with great consideration for the consequences."

I recoil a little in my seat. "Yeah… Of course I will. Any decision I make, even reaching out to you in the first place, I don't take it lightly."

"Good… That's good." His demeanor shifts back to his stoic, clinical self. I don't know what just happened, but he went somewhere for a moment there.

"Now then, I did receive your messages, I apologize for not getting back to you. You mentioned you were experiencing persistent and debilitating whole-body soreness?"

"Yeah. I can't even leave the apartment most days, it hurts so much."

"Odd… You are taking the treatment as directed, yes?"

"Of course. One tablespoon a week, just like it says on the bottle."

I see his eyes twitch behind his glasses. Did I say something wrong?

"…Teaspoon."

I cock my head to the side. "Say again?"

"You mean one TEASPOON a week, yes?"

I feel my heart sink. The dark smear on the dosage information… I could have sworn it said '1 tbsp/week'.

"…Could you hold on a second please?" I mute the mic and call out to my partner to bring the bottle of tiger HRT over. When they do, I unmute and hold it up to the webcam. I hear Dr. Erian take a sharp intake of breath as he notices the obscured instructions.

I set the bottle aside and the two of us share an awkward silence.

"So…", I begin. "…How bad is it?"

"The good news", he offers slowly, "is that you have only been taking three times the prescribed dose. An increased dose imbalances the growth rate of the different parts of your body, hence your pain and persistent weakness, but it could have been much worse."

I think back to the so-called Fifteen Minute version, and Antonina's description of it - like bathing in an active volcano.

Dr. Erian continues. "Assuming you return to a CORRECT dose, your growth rates will gradually level out over the course of the next month or so. It is my medical opinion that you should maintain a low-activity lifestyle until then, but you will eventually be able to return to your typical activity level, and you will also find that the physical effects become more… consistent."

"That's… reassuring. Thank you, doctor." I pause. Something I noticed a little while ago has been weighing on my mind. "There's one thing, though - do the treatments have… I guess you'd call them restorative or regenerative effects? I've noticed some old wounds aren't there anymore."

The doctor clicks his pen and brings up his notepad. "Interesting. Do go on, Miss Alexis."

"Well… I used to get lower back pain from a car crash injury I got a little over a year ago, but I haven't noticed it at all lately. Pretty much the only part that DOESN'T hurt… There also used to be some marks on my arm from a cat biting me when I was little." I give a slight smile. "The cat's name was Tiger, go figure."

Dr. Erian is writing the whole time I'm talking. "Yes, that is to be expected. Minor persistent injuries will fade over time as your body re-forms itself to a new baseline, even severe chronic symptoms may fade. If there are no other concerns…"

"Just one… Most of the other therian HRT patients I've talked to have gotten their meds as pills, so what's with the potion bottle?"

Dr. Erian pauses, and adjusts his glasses nervously, as if he's been caught out on something he doesn't want to admit to. "Well… advances in the field are occurring rapidly, and you are one of the more recent patients, so a more… streamlined option was available to you. I took the liberty of choosing the most compatible option based on your medical records, and that bottle is it."

"Okay… But what's IN it?"

"The active ingredients are antihominidone, which is your humanity-blocker, and a specialized formula of felistrogen, infused with white tiger genetic material. The rest of the fluid is a suspension used to dilute the effects, without which you would be looking at a short, but excruciating and potentially lethal process."

The Fifteen Minute version, I think to myself. I'm taking diluted Fifteen Minute meds. There's no WAY this isn't experimental, and I'M the experiment. I despise saying it, but maybe my mother was right to worry.

"But I'm afraid I really do have to go, Miss Alexis, my next appointment is waiting."

"G-gotcha. See ya, doctor."

---

Special thanks to @paintedbytosia for letting me write her in, and shoutout to @megamoonerjenny for coming up with 'antihominidone'

[tonisbabydoll]

just remembered a smut fic I read few years ago. I don’t remember who it was about but basically it was dom!reader. Makes me think of Anton. Anton made you jealous yesterday by being flirty with some girls yesterday. He was just being friendly but you are overprotective of him. Today before you go to school you hand him a viberator and telling him to put in. He whines but you made him. Through the day at school, you would turn it on and off to punish him. In class you had a presentation and it was his turn. He begged you not to turn it on while he presents. You nod but crossed your fingers behind your back. As he was presenting you would turned it off and on, and adjusted intensities. He made eye contact with you and you would smirk at him. You weren’t satisfied that he was able to keep collected for the most part so you decided to turn it all the way up to the highest setting, and he suddenly yelped scrunching his face. Everybody was asking if he was ok. You also went along with your classmates playing oblivious. You winked playfully at him and he frowned . You then let the poor boy finish his presentation feeling a little bad

oh my god jsnsnsn sub!anton🤭

when on the highest setting, i feel like he’d have tears forming in his eyes and you couldn’t help but find him so cute. once you’re done, you take him somewhere quiet and jerk him off until he’s a shaking, sobbing mess. he would beg for your forgiveness and say “please, i didn’t mean to talk to other girls i promise,” “i’ll never do it again,” and the way he’s just crying and begging makes it even hotter. AND having the vibrator on his tip, the poor boy would be bright red, trying to cover his face but you push his hands away. you pull up his shirt so he can make a mess all over himself and he just looks so cute all messy and shaky, you just have to take a picture to remind him this is what happens when he makes you jealous.

[tanadrin]

seo should be a crime. minimum 20 years for this shit. i can't find anything on the internet anymore, and everything that does come up in search results is the same repetitive content-free bullshit that just repeats the search term in different ways. and it's directly proportional to the popularity/monetizability of the thing you're looking for information on. niche questions might still occasionally turn up useful results, but information, on, like, using a specific piece of software to build a website? nothing but garbage as far as the eye can see.

[giantkillerjack]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[sigsfigs]

sillies

another close up for the masses ^_^ theyre too cute we looove mazey phaedra in this household

[moonchild-in-blue]

Oh.

[papermonkeyism]

sorry for being active

logical... i think I'm annoying you too much /especially with my bad English/, and if you don't want to answer, that'll be fine ^^` in any case, thanks for your attention! i'm probably overthinking this, but...

the last question was, what is Crippled (and the others for that matter) afraid of? I understand that all the hounds lived in a pretty terrible place, but what about simple, almost human things like darkness and loneliness? Surama seems quite fearless to me, despite her dislike of the dark, unlike her brother (okay, he's just quite active), and Iacar is reliving the past. of course, they worry about each other, I think, but... hey, admit it, who is afraid of thunderstorms? :)

sorrysorrysorry ^^`

English isn't my first language either (terveisiä Suomesta). It's just that I'm wary.

I do not currently live in a creative enough environment nor life situation where I can reasonably sacrifice several days out of my week into such a demanding creative work, alone, without burning out.

And every time I so much as casually mention Wurr online, there's usually at least one person who'll come and let me know how tragic it is that I've "decided" to "abandon" my "great story and characters". (Or, in one case, how irrelevant and pathetic I am as a failure of a person. Fuck that one, though.)

Like, I had a bit of a nervous breakdown because of health and livelihood issues back in last spring that I'm still occasionally dealing with (one's systolic blood pressure is definetely not supposed to stay over 190 for long), and I just don't want to be dealing with the people sending me obituaries for my comic on top of that right now.

Like, maybe, maybe, if I one day move closer to Tampere to have my Brainstorm Buddy in my reach regularly again. I miss having creative company.

But right now? I'm just tired.