#other than to just suck it up and deal with it

[lurochar]

The Buck Stops Here

His shadow must be punished. You find out Alastor did not put his shadow up to your little play date.

Warnings: Reader's name game sucks

18+ MDNI

Part 1

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

“Oh, dear.”

It hit him in more than just one way as soon as he entered your shared room. He had used his shadow travel to simply slip in the hotel without bothering to talk to the others, wanting to greet you first to bring up his mood.

It had been an irritating day, dealing with territorial disputes and all. 

He hadn’t bothered to knock and just bypassed the door, emerging from the floor and expecting a cheerful greeting from you when his senses were seemingly all bombarded all at once.

The room smelled almost entirely of you – of your sweat, of your tears, of your cum.

He almost found himself thanking some unknown deity he had not called upon his shadow earlier that day, otherwise, he would have been put in a highly uncomfortable situation where he would have no other choice but to slaughter any and all witnesses.

His shadow was a part of him after all – it felt what he felt and vice versa.

Though it sometimes did go rogue.

Alastor knew his blasted shadow liked to watch and never really thought much of it, but he never imagined it would take the visuals as knowledge and actually use it against you.

“I believe I told you to behave, didn’t I?” Alastor finally spoke, watching with a tight smile as his shadow’s ears perked up – as if it was only just realizing he was standing in the room – and its head lazily lifted from its position between your legs.

You were passed out.

He vaguely wondered how long his shadow had you going for if the scent of you was this strong and taking another inhale, Alastor could feel drool drip down his fangs and his antlers growing.

His shadow had the nerve to lick the slick from its lips before it chattered at him, resting its head back on your thigh and licking the skin there. You shivered unconsciously, letting out a sigh and the shadow cooed at your sleeping form.

“What. Did. You. Just. Say?” A screech of static escaped him before Alastor could help it and he quickly looked over to see if it woke you. Luckily, it did not and he felt his eye twitching in annoyance. “You do know this is the opposite of ‘behaving’, don’t you?”

The shadow actually seemed to huff at him, snuggling deeper against you while its ears twitched wildly as if to mock him. It let out a series of chirps and titters before settling down again.

Alastor felt his own ears twitch. “Cute? She thought it was ‘cute’?” He murmured, his expression scrunching with bewilderment.

Would a moment of bliss be worth it in exchange for the humiliation? Of you stroking his ears for a bleat? Sex was the only time he could not control the damned little noises and so, he had been very careful in not allowing you to touch that part of him during.

His shadow chittered again from its place and Alastor did not give it a response. Instead, he snapped his fingers a few times, regretfully clearing the room of your heavenly scent. 

The bed and sheets were cleaned next and you didn’t even stir when Alastor cleansed you of your bodily fluids. The shadow snickered when Alastor eyed him for a moment and the snicker instantly turned into a whimper with his next words.

“Since you couldn’t behave, I won’t allow you to watch for the next week.”

(So harsh, Master!)

–

“Tell me, Darling.”

You try to talk, you really do, but how are you supposed to, with a tentacle shoved in your mouth? All you can do is let out muffled moans and heaving sobs when you feel Alastor’s fingers trail up and down your thigh.

What are you supposed to tell him?

“You have been a naughty little brat, my dearest Doe.” Alastor purred, grinning wide as more tentacles appeared from the shadows, wrapping around you and restricting any and all movement. “And brats must be punished, don’t they?”

What are you supposed to tell him!?

Alastor spreads your legs, before throwing them over his broad shoulders. “What do you want? I want to hear it from you.” He teased, just barely rubbing at your folds as you tried to bite down on the tentacle gagging you. “What would a fitting punishment be? Should I leave you wanting, needy and begging for more?”

You could feel his thumb swipe over your clit, beginning to rub the bundle of nerves in tight little circles and you clenched your eyes shut, feeling that familiar warmth heat up in your belly. You tried to arch up into his touch, but the tentacles allowed no movement.

“Open your eyes.” Alastor commanded, his thumb leaving your clit and you whimpered, quickly complying as his fingers went to stroke your cheek, smearing your slick across your heated skin, “Keep your eyes on me, dearest.”

You gasped as the appendage from your mouth retracted, drool trailing down your lips as tears began to form in the corner of your eyes, “A-Alastor.” You choked, “W-what am I… I supposed to..?” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he cut you off.

“Should I fuck you with my fingers? My tongue? Are you greedy tonight, Darling? Do you want my cock?” Alastor smirked as you gaped at him, before throwing your head back and letting out a wail when a tentacle slid up into your dripping cunt. “Where have your words gone?”

You see stars when the tentacle jams up against that spot in your pussy and your toes curl almost painfully. “F-fu–” You panted as another appendage toyed with your clit, knowing you’re on the edge and about to fall over any second now.

“Language, Darling, language.” Alastor sighed in mock disappointment, ceasing all movement and you almost sob at your broken orgasm. Should he ask while you’re incoherent? It seemed a little more entertaining that way, certainly. “What did that damn shadow of mine tell you?” 

Huh?

What?

Your brain isn’t exactly completely in the realm of reality when you feel the tentacle slowly slip out of you, wriggling against your wet walls and leaving you clenching nothing but air. “S-shadow?” Ah, that’s right – you haven’t seen Alastor’s shadow in a day or two. “W-where is… where is Shadowy?”

Shadowy?

‘Shadowy’?

You gave it a name?

(And one as simple as that!?)

“As a result of misbehaviour,” Alastor’s grin widened, fangs gritting in irritation. He shuffled his position, “it must be disciplined. Deprivation of you – an entire week’s worth – should be sufficient in teaching it a lesson.” He gripped your hips, fucking his cock into your slippery hole. “Must you think of my shadow when I am right here, my dearest Doe?”

“H-hah!” Your eyes rolled back, feeling your arms strain as they were still restrained above your head by Alastor’s tentacles. “I-I…” It felt good, your mind felt like mush, but Alastor wanted something out of you, didn’t he? “I thought… you put Shadowy up to it.” 

Alastor gradually unravelled the appendages from your restrained arms, watching as his drool dripped down into your face while he deepened his thrusts, each deeper, harder, and faster. “You believe I would reveal such a… humiliating secret about myself?”

Your glazed over eyes seemed to gain coherency with his words. “Your shadow is a part of you, right?”  Your arms trembled. “Maybe, maybe you did? I would never make fun of you, Alastor. I love you.”

Alastor tensed, but wrapped his hands around your wrists, slowly bringing your arms up to his head. Your hands shook and his ears flattened against his skull. “Well? I would like to get this over with.” His grin seemed to wobble.

You squeezed his ears and jumped, watching in awe as Alastor’s eyes instantly shut and he quivered. “Harder, dearest.” Your warm wet walls were starting to flutter around him and he felt the sound get caught up in his throat. “Fuck!”

Once more, another squeeze.

And you finally shattered.

“A-Ala–!” You whimpered, feeling Alastor bury his face in the crook of your neck and you clamped down on his cock, just barely hearing that same sound you had heard with his shadow even through your bliss. “Alastor.” You hesitantly stroked his ears, becoming more assured when he relaxed against you.

“Fuck.” Alastor twitched inside you, shuddering after his own pleasure. He kept humping into you, trying to fuck his cum deeper in you until you whined in clear overstimulation. “Oh hush now.”

He hoped you didn’t hear it.

That sad little bleat.

“I… I like it.” You finally said after long yet comfortable silence. Alastor seemed to let out a huff and you did too. “I mean it! It’s… ‘en-deering’!” 

“Please Darling, no.”

----

Taglist:

@cosmiccandydreamer

[ronearoundblindly]

Day Eighty-Three (1)

CEO!Steve Rogers x CEO!Reader

10 A.M., an It Had To Be You tale (see previous or series)

Summary: A joint meeting between AmCaps and the heads of four other major companies goes about as horribly as possible...or is it exactly as you expected? Either way, Steve messes up big time.

Warnings for (hi, I'm Ro) arguments, the absolute shittiness of misogyny, degrading use of petnames, language, social idjit!Steve (he honest-to-god tried his best but whoops). MINORS DNI. If this is not to your taste, please feel free to search lighter stories here. WC 2571

Sadly, the whole thing would have gone better if Tony Stark showed up.

Stark doesn’t do meetings like this though, and you may never bother with one again. You may have no need.

Clammy hands grip the leather spine of your monogrammed portfolio, comfortingly thick with the employee files you’ve brought as ammunition. This is a battle, no doubt in your mind, but Steve acts as if it’s any other day. To him, it probably is.

This is Steve’s fourteenth quarterly get-together of entities using the stabilizing, hydrostatic, insulated, electro-neutral, lead-dense (aka S.H.I.E.L.D) modules which American Capsules supplies. You’ve worked here for twelve of those but never been in the room.

The room feels as big as a concert hall with you an ant in the back pew.

Since the meeting is on your turf, you and Steve wait till the others arrive, your boyfriend highly aware of your nerves but without a clue as to why.

You’ve been preparing for this far longer than the not-quite three months you’ve held the title of co-CEO. It’s important to understand what is really happening between these companies and who exactly is to blame. It was also important to tell Steve nothing until you knew all the facts, and you didn’t until the phone call you just got off three minutes ago.

That’s not enough time. He’ll have to enjoy the show like everyone else,

Steve loosens his skinny black tie and repeats that you shouldn’t worry. He can take the lead. All the stats are printed in the binders laid in front of six chairs around the oblong table. He touches you, reassuringly he believes, at exactly the wrong moment.

Justin Hammer saunters through the door, clocking the intimate hand on your arm when Steve leans forward to whisper, “what’s wrong?” The outrageously pompous pumpkin sucks his teeth, winking at you, and spins to moonwalk closer. Hammer even goes so far as to cup your other elbow with an over-tanned palm.

“Peach, you’re gorgeous. Don’t ever change,” he flirts, damn well knowing that you aren’t the assistant anymore but are dating the man right beside him. “Hey, pal, how’s it going? Lookin’ sharp.”

Justin wheels the nearest chair away from the conference table and plunks down, lounging against the high-backed seat, swinging his feet up onto the adjacent chair. He may as well be at the beach.

He snaps, hand landing in a finger gun pointed at you—or your backside, more accurately, where he’s also staring.

“I like mine sweet and dark. Thanks. ‘Preciate you.”

There’s no elaboration. You’re just the coffee bitch to him.

What’s wrong, you want to tell Steve, what’s wrong is that asshole is only twenty-five percent of the shit I have to deal with this morning!

Before you or Steve can respond, however, the other three arrive in quick succession.

Darren Cross of Pym Technologies might actually be the least offensive of the bunch. His smile is polite and jovial, he greets Steve simply and shakes your hand, and he smacks Hammer’s calf hard enough to make a sound as he passes by.

He, unlike Justin, brought a briefcase, keeping up the illusion that he participates in the company he’s here to represent. Cross probably does still participate, considering he was only promoted recently after Hank Pym retired.

Aldrich Killian is undoubtedly (one of) the brains behind his think tank, AIM, and Brock Rumlow is undoubtedly smug, being a lowly former associate at Stark Industries, now an executive for the Roxxon Energy Corporation.

Each of them has skin in each other’s game; throughout the history of American Capsules’ products, innovations have been shared between them to either create suitable shipping containers or to have their products shipped via those containers. They’ve quite literally shielded their collective work.

It’s a symbiotic relationship.

It’s a circle jerk.

Killian and Rumlow do not bother to walk around and say hello. They fake niceties and unbutton their suit jackets to sit on the other side of the table.

Noticeably, none of them chose either ‘head’ of the table. No one was willing to take a position of power equal to Steve in his own house. Your boyfriend seems to interpret this as acquiescence of some sort—proof that they’ll blindly respect what and who Steve himself respects,—and then Steve wrongly decides to gently run his hand the rest of the way down your arm, his fingers curling to lift your limb until the very last second.

He made it look like you were reaching out for him, like you were a scared child in need of support. You are, in a sense, but he didn’t have to fucking advertise it to these men.

Steve doesn’t make mistakes. He did that on purpose. Maybe he meant to establish some sort of claim to you? To stop them objectifying you? Whatever they do now is solely out of respect or fear of him though, not you.

You’re frozen in place—in anger, truth be told—until Justin drops his feet to the floor dramatically.

“Indulge me, sweetcheeks.” He winks again. “I’m thirsty.”

Doing your very best Vanna White impression, you step back and sweep an arm out toward the drinks on the side server. “Help yourself,” you say with a smile.

It’s only because Justin is an idiot that he misses the dig.

Open to the page he wants, Steve tosses his binder to the wood surface, the slap of lamination to varnish attracting the attention of all the men, and takes his seat at the end.

You waltz to the other side, a clear and distinct separation between you and Steve, equals in life and work but opposites today.

“Shall we wait for Stark,” Rumlow growls in his low voice.

“Not necessary,” Steve allows. “If he shows, he shows. Let’s get to it.”

Steve begins, pointing out a few key concerns. Since you already know all of this, he doesn’t look to you while speaking, but neither do the other men when they respond.

They talk over you as if you’re not there, being blowhards and patting each other on the back for ’surviving in this economy.’ You let them go on. Steve gets nowhere. He gets excuses. He gets parroted promises.

Justin dismisses insufficient specs by saying he’s just a pretty face. He leaves all the numbers to nerds. He laughs about how he’ll have to check with his people about the nitty-gritty details, but he’s sure it’ll work out.

He stands to get his own black coffee, plopping three cubes of sugar in the chrome mug.

Rumlow barks out that shoddy Hammer tech nearly sank a Roxxon oil rig.

Justin feigns ignorance of the incident.

Killian uselessly offers a fix for that, at a price.

Darren argues that Pym has followed their agreement with AmCaps to the letter.

Everybody is fucking lying to themselves.

The shouting continues, escalating until it looks like Killian and Rumlow are close to throwing punches, though you’ve missed why those two are at odds.

Finally, Steve rises, stretching his hands out in peace.

“Everyone, calm down! Take a breath. Have some water. Sit.”

He’s stressed, clearly, defaulting to conditioned behavior which means Steve then looks right at you with a pleading expression.

Wrong again.

Darren lets out a huff and nods at you. “Yes, I think that would be nice.”

“I’ll take a glass,” Rumlow adds with a tap of the table in your direction.

Killian sighs an unmistakable ‘loser’ to Rumlow, and suddenly, the fight is back on.

Time to lock and load.

You cough and stand, flipping open the portfolio in front of you, adjusting your hips in your pencil skirt with a tug but only for affect. You know exactly what draws the attention of these men.

The room goes mostly quiet.

“Water. For the table,” you deadpan command Steve.

Picking up your copy of the report set, you clear your throat.

“I’m afraid Rogers has given you all the impression this is a negotiation. It’s not.” You slide the binder to the center. “It’s a courtesy. A courtesy which none of you deserve.”

“What the hell is she talking about?” Rumlow gruffly asks Steve.

“I’m talking about unpaid balances and unfulfilled orders. I’m talking about product tampering and verified illegal activity that hereby voids your contracts, effective immediately.”

Darren shoots out of his seat. “You can’t do that!” He turns to Steve. “She can’t do that, right?”

Steve, however, is blanched with shock. “Wait, I—“

“Each of your agreements with us—“ you barrel over his protest “—contains a morality clause which was broken by Hammer Tech when they conspired to produce a subpar protective lining and pad Roxxon gas sales in the region, unwittingly causing unsafe storage at a Stark factory in Galmira because the entire operation no longer followed American Capsules specifications—your specifications for transporting your own products.

“Pym,” you continue with force, “failed to produce compact enough items for the containers they ordered and instead chose to resell the regulated lining materials for a premium.” You toss a packet of papers down to Darren. “In your infinite wisdom, this also means you violated multiple Customs laws by forging shipping weights and ignoring safety guidelines.”

Killian puts a bejeweled hand over his vested heart. “Cross, you didn’t?”

“Which brings me to fucking AIM,” you grit.

“Precious,” Steve breaths with a warning tone, but you can’t stop. You’ve waited too long for this moment.

“Because who the hell do you think created the new formula for a light-weight, lower-cost, shitty lining?” You take such pleasure in stabbing a finger in his direction then flinging stapled proof across the table. “Evidence. Evidence of all of this provided by multiple sources. And you were warned…”

Now comes the really fun part.

You spread out eight folders.

“…warned by Roxxon’s own Betty Ross, Wanda Maximoff, and Kamala Khan. By Hammer’s Monica Rambeau and Kate Bishop. AIM’s doctors, Christine Palmer and Helen Cho, and finally, Pym Tech’s Mary Jane Watson—none of whom, I’m excited to say, work for you anymore.”

There’s a stunned heft to the frigidly controlled air in the large room. The florescent lights overhead buzz harshly.

“Are you fucking serious?” Killian rasps.

“Put your bitch back on her leash,” Rumlow bites to Steve.

“Don’t speak to her like—“

“Wait a minute,” Justin snorts, “I’m confused.”

“Your nerds will explain it to you once you crawl back into your hole.”

“Prec—” Steve snips in alarm but catches himself. He looks panicked and blind-sided, which he would be. You kept their complicity from him until you had everything you needed to invoke the morality clause.

You turn to the junior CEO for Pym Tech. “Expect a call from Hope Van Dyne. She has a few thoughts on Cross Technologies.”

Called out for his as-yet-unannounced rebranding of the company, Darren breaks, and he breaks viciously, vaulting the three chairs between you.

“Fucking cunt,” he screams through bared teeth.

Steve launches past the skittering seats and makes it to Cross milliseconds before he can intercept you.

“I didn’t make you lie, cheat, and steal,” you screech. “You screwed yourselves!”

Killian straightens his lapels and smooths his shirt nervously. “Surely, we can come to some arrangement.”

“This is all a misunderstanding,” Hammer adds.

Rumlow simply walks out with a shout of “you’ll be hearing from our lawyers.”

Steve slams Cross into the window, an ominous rattle shaking the frame, the cheek of the struggling man whining as it smears along the glass. When Darren still tries to hiss something else at you, Steve pins him against the wall instead, a forearm choking off any other choice words the bald man might offer.

“This meeting is over,” Steve grunts, pushing at Cross until the man settles.

“Right,” you sigh, keeping your voice as level as you can. “Gentlemen, I’d say get your houses in order, but I’m afraid the furniture is about to be repoed.”

Killian runs his hand through his styled hair. “Think I’ll leave you to talk some sense into your precious partner. Good day.”

You’ll never forgive Steve for blurting your private nickname out in front of the worst possible people to know it, but this is how you chose to play the meeting. You knew there’d be…pushback.

The AIM founder takes a lazy sip. “Thanks for the water, Rogers.” He taps his pinky ring several times on the glass, a hollow, high ting lingering after each strike, and then Aldrich heads for the door.

Steve releases Darren despite the wild look in his eyes, but Cross would be a fool to make any move except to leave. He gathers his things and slips through the exit before it fully closes.

The only one remaining is Justin Hammer, and he tosses out his arms with a chuckle, shaking his head.

“Kitten, come on. This is crazy. Isn’t this crazy? We’re all friends here. Let’s just chill, relax, and work this out. How ‘bout a drink?” More snaps. More finger guns. “You want coffee? Alright, perfect. Love ya. We’ll have coffee.” The man fidgets, sweat visible on his lip and forehead when he turns in the window’s light and approaches the drink cart.

“Sure thing, Justin. I take my coffee like I take my women—“ you smile “—from you.”

Okay, that part just felt good.

“That—” Hammer’s brow raises and he wipes down his jaw with one hand “—now that was uncalled for.”

Steve cuts in, a solid dismissal in the form of “I said ‘the meeting’s over.’”

“Oh, boy. You—well, you better watch…This ain’t over.” Hammer makes a fuss of buttoning his jacket again, puffing out his chest, then walking off even more empty-handed than he arrived.

The enormous, heavy door shuts slowly on buzzing, bright silence.

After a pause, Steve heaves out a breath.

“That went well.”

Sarcasm is not one of his strengths.

You’re not sure what you expected. You stand as a block of granite decor in the corner you retreated to once shit hit the fan.

It was the right decision. This was the right thing to do, the moral thing. It’s in the goddamn contract.

Though physically he shows no signs of duress—Steve used very little of his actual muscle to subdue Darren,—he hangs his head, stepping to your spot at the table to look at what you brought in. After a pause, Steve rubs his temple like it aches.

“I…I have no words,” he mutters, tone inscrutable.

You don’t care if he has words or not. You only have to wait until they’re out of the building.

“I don’t understand. What just happened?”

The door opens to reveal a bored-looking Topaz.

“Boss, Stark sent a catered lunch over. Where should they set up? It’s shawarma.”

“I don’t care,” Steve bursts. “Just take it down to R&D or something!”

That’s your cue to leave.

You shut your mostly-empty portfolio and tuck it to your chest.

A hand wraps around your wrist, unyielding.

Steve’s stormy blue eyes are felt more than seen, his hold tightening, trying to inch you closer, but you rip away.

“I’ll send you a memo,” you tell Steve without looking directly at him. “Keep those. I have copies.”

Fast as you can in heels and a skirt, you hurry after Topaz and past the food, fleeing first to your office and then to your own home.

[Day 83: 6pm]

[tender first aid drabble; Big Girls Don't Cry]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: Ahhhhh! Next up is how Steve makes it up to you...or at least starts to...😱😵‍💫🥴

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@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

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@bigtreefest @rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads

@fallinallinmendes @rach2602 @royalwritersoftheuniverses

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hello! so I got an IUD about a year ago and for the most part I absolutely love it. Im the kind of ADHD where I know taking the pill consistently would be a huge issue for me so I like that I don't have to think about it and not having to deal with periods is a huge plus. My only real issue with it is that it has given me acne. While I am seeing a dermatologist about that I'd be interested to know if there are other forms of birth control where this is a less common side affect? Just curious for options in the future, as well as because IUD insertion was not fun so something similar that doesn't suck to get inserted would be nice (though I do think the pain was worth it in the long run)

hi anon,

your best bet here would probably be to look into nonhormonal birth control options, since anything that alters the ebb and flow of hormones in your body is going to have the potential to replicate the side effects of the menstrual cycle - including, you guessed it, acne outbreaks.

many nonhormonal methods are a bit more hands on than pills or implants, including things like condoms (which we should be using alongside other forms of birth control anyway, as a reminder!) and slightly more old school methods like diaphragms (a cup placed into the vagina before sex to catch semen and prevent it from reaching an egg), spermicide (chemicals put in the vagina to paralyze sperm), and foam sponges (these work similarly to diaphragms, but they also have spermicide in them). no painful insertion, although given what you've said about having a hard time remembering to take the pill, these might not be the best fit for you.

the nonhormonal method that requires the least attention is a copper IUD, which goes in the uterus and kills off sperm. (it's crazy that copper kills sperm, btw, truly the world's wildest rock/paper/scissors situation.) copper IUDs have a very high success rate, can be effective for up to ten years, and don't cause side effects of hormonal IUDs like acne, weight fluctuations, and mood swings, although cramping and irregular bleeding are still possible. unfortunately this one does also require an insertion that probably won't tickle, but no birth control method is perfect.

[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'

[wlw-webcomic-bracket]

Today:

I wake up at three in the morning to go to the airport

I got two hours of sleep because I make good life choices

I’m in the last boarding group so I have to courtesy check my suitcase

Ten minutes later I have a moment of utter panic because I can’t find my suitcase

In my defense it is extremely morning and I got two hours of sleep

Flight itself is mostly uneventful

However:

Apparently we landed just ahead of a nasty storm

The pilot says all the planes behind us were probably getting diverted to other airports

Man I really dodged a bullet

Sure my flight to Kansas City is probably delayed but there’s some slack in my schedule, I can manage

My flight to Kansas City is not delayed

It is cancelled

Fuck

If I reschedule online I can’t get to Kansas City until tomorrow

Tomorrow *night*, specifically

I mean technically I could go to Chicago and then back to Kansas City and get there at 8 or so but that seems way too convoluted and anyway it’s too late to make the connection

Wait a second

I am not actually going to Kansas City

I am going to a tiny campground in the middle of nowhere

I am just meeting friends in Kansas City because it’s on the way

I could go to other places

Briefly consider renting a car to just drive from Dallas to the camp site

There is a flash flood warning

Also: two hours of sleep

Never mind definitely not doing that

I stand in line for one hour and fifty-five minutes to talk to a person

The people just ahead of me in line are dealing with their second cancelled flight in two days across two different airports

Damn that sucks

The airline books me on an afternoon flight to Springfield

If the camp site is in the middle of nowhere then Springfield would be the edge of nowhere

Friends make arrangements to get me picked up

At this point I am exhausted and my feet hurt and my phone’s battery is nearly dead

I get to my gate and collapse in a chair

Text from the airline:

The flight to Springfield is cancelled

I was booked for less than an hour

Maybe the planes behind mine are the ones that dodged a bullet

I get in another line

At this point I have been in the airport for five and a half hours and I’ve been standing for five of them

At least the line is shorter this time

Agent says there are no open seats on flights to Springfield for the rest of the evening

But he spends a minute refreshing to see if an opening comes up

An opening comes up

In first class

(I’ve never flown first class before)

At PRECISELY the same moment I get a text from my partner

Trump is convicted on all counts

You know what

I take it back

Today doesn’t entirely suck

I don’t even mind when that flight is delayed two hours too

More time to nap and watch the gundam lesbians show

(Holy shit that’s some intense tonal whiplash at the end of the first season)

(So good)

Am I forgetting something?

No

Probably not

I get on the flight

My three hour layover took twelve hours

Goodbye Dallas I’ll see you in hell (Dallas)

Land in Springfield just after midnight

My suitcase is in Kansas City

[a-whisper-in-the-forest]

A game of darts

Part 1 ( Disgraced apple pie) Part 3 (A deal)

Villain turns the page of their book. They lean back against the couch in the living room and start reading the first sentence on the page. “Damn it!” the Villains’ Sidekick yells. “How can I lose again!” Other Villain laughs. “Maybe start by not challenging someone with perfect aim as a superpower.”

“I'm not even using my power, Sidekick here is just horrible at darts.” Assassin answers, pulling their dart out of the board. “Bullshit. You are using your power.” Sidekick huffs as they sit down next to Villain on the couch. “Come on, I'll make it fair. One more game,” Assassin says as they pull Sidekick back out of the couch. “Okay, okay,” Sidekick sighs “And I'm winning this time.”

Assassin starts by throwing the first dart, conveniently landing it in the triple 20. And so does the second. And the third. “One hundred and eiightyyy.” Other Villain yells like the presenter of the dart games on TV. “Stop you using your power!” Sidekick argues with Assassin. “I'm not,” Assassin says as they plop down on the couch next to Villain. “What are you reading?” they say as they put their head on Villain's shoulder. Villain sighs. They should've stayed in their room. Way less distractions there. But then they remember what Supervillain said. ‘You have to socialize with your siblings.’ They weren't real siblings, but that's what Supervillain liked to call them. “A book on the history of vikings,” Villain answers. “Sounds interesting.” Assassin answers, snuggling closer to Villain.

“Ha! Suck it, Assassin!” Sidekick yells. Both Villain and Assassin look up at the board. They landed two darts in the triple 20 and one in the 20. “I still have more points” Assassin answers with a smug grin on their face. “Not for long!” they say letting themselves fall onto the couch, replacing Assassin who is getting ready to throw again. Villain really needed to find another reading spot. “It's not fair, Villain. They keep using their power.” Sidekick pouts next to them. It's moments like these where Villain notices how young they actually are.

Maybe they could lend Sidekick a hand. It's handy that the room is lit by a few lamps instead of the big light. Makes it easier to play with a shadow.

“How the hell?!” Assassin's last dart lands in the 1. “What did you do?” Assassin almost flies towards Sidekick. “I did nothing. Why are you so angry? People can miss sometimes…or were you using your power?” Sidekick answers smiling. Villain can't help but smile a little. “Oh, Villain, you absolute assh-”

They were stopped by the sound of laughter. And next a thud as Other Villain falls off their chair. “Oh, Assassin. You should see your face.” Other Villain's eyes begin to water. “Shut up,” Assassin says with venom in their voice. Oh, Assassin and their short fuse, Villain thinks. Right at that moment their phone vibrates.

‘Feed the hero Sidekick ’ appears on the screen. Right. Villain stands up to go to the basement. “Villain, don't leave me alone with Assassin. They're going to kill me,” Sidekick says, grabbing Villain's arm, slightly panicked. “You wanted help, now live with the consequences,” Villain says smiling. Assassin is never going to actually kill them, so Villain doesn't feel too bad leaving them.

They open the door to the basement, warm plate in hand. The Sidekick immediately crawls to the corner of the room. “We're done with that. I am just here to give you some food,” Villain says, trying to sound somewhat comforting. Unfortunately, the stone cold voice they had to learn themselves to speak with, comes out. They place the plate on the ground in front of the sidekick. The Sidekick, however, doesn't make a single move towards the food. “When am I going home?” Sidekick's voice sounds raspy and doesn't sound louder than a whisper. “In a couple of hours, just hang on a little longer,” Villain says. Hero's not going to be happy with them. What does it matter? They're just a hero…

Right?

“Okay…” Sidekick says shakingly. They drag the plate closer and start to eat. Villain sighs. They really hated this. Punch a hero? Sure. Kill an enemy? Fine. Torture a defenseless kid? No, that doesn't sit right with them. But every time they wanted to rebel, to fight the orders, Supervillain would push it out of their mind. They didn't want Supervillain to take control of them again. To make them do things they didn't want to do. Whenever Supervillain did take control, it was like they were a programmed robot. They were still there, but it wasn't them that was moving their body.

They despised it.

By the time they finished their train of thought, Sidekick had finished their meal. Without saying anything, they picked up the plate and went back upstairs, leaving the trembling Sidekick behind.

A few minutes later Villain puts the dirty plate in the soapy water. When they entered the kitchen to put the dirty plate away, they had noticed the pile of dishes. Having nothing better to do, they decided to wash them. Theu were only a few plates away from finishing when they felt two arms wrap around them from behind and hug them. “Assassin nearly murdered me with a pillow,” the villainous Sidekick mumbles into Villain's shoulder. Villain hums in response. They had a feeling Assassin would do something like that. “Did they eat?” Sidekick asks innocently like the young teenager they are. Again, Villain hums. “Do you mind if I stay here for a minute? I need a hug,” Villain can hear the Sidekick's muffled sniffs. They slowly turn around to face Sidekick. “Another nightmare?” Villain asks quietly. The Sidekick only nods and hugs the Villain even harder, letting the tears flow freely. Although they don't like to admit it, they have a soft spot for Sidekick. Ever since Sidekick was sent on their first mission, Villain has been their caretaker. Helping them through tough nights, giving them fighting tips, teaching them how to do basic stuff like washing their clothes…

“How about you go to your room already? I'll come in a minute.” Villain says to the now calmed down Sidekick. “O-okay,” Sidekick tries to say between the sobs. All they had to do now was finish the dishes and drop off the Hero's sidekick. They hope Hero won't make this too much of a hassle.

~

“Have you gone insane?!” Other Hero yells out in Hero's tiny office. “No, but it is the only way to get them back!” Hero answers, pulling the USB out of the computer. “And lower your voice.”

“You're about to give super secret information to THE supervillain. The Agency is going to literally kill you,” Other Hero says panicked. “Don't worry about that. I used some programs so they will never know it was me.” Hero says, trying to calm down Other Hero. “I hope they don't find out.” they respond, still not convinced. To them it seems stupid to give up such important information for a Sidekick. What Oher Hero doesn't know is that Hero is not just bringing back Sidekick, they also want to find out why Villain would do something so cruel while clearly being so against it.

Hi! Wow, it took me long to most part 4. I'm very sorry about that. My exams are starting soon so I'm probably going to post even less frequent ( didn't know that was even possible tbh.) Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this part. It's a bit all over the place bit it hopefully gives a little insight to the future parts.

(Also, every time i get a notification somebody commented, reposted or liked something, i get so excited. I am honestly suprised people like what i write.) (I'll stop ranting now)

[sandwitchstories]

Fools Rush In

Hello and welcome once again to story hour featuring, you guess it, more filthy Rengoku brain rot!

(I can't help it, he just makes me feel things. lol)

This was supposed to be pure smut but then it caught feelings at the end. Damn stories have a mind of their own!

If you would rather read on AO3, please click here!

Summary: Angry and frustrated by a bad day and dealing with his alcoholic father, Kyojuro goes for a drive to clear his mind. He winds up at your house and in your arms, where he belongs. CW: Smut, MDNI. AFAB reader, AFAB terms used to describe reader's sexy areas, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, rough sex

Kyojuro Rengoku was not  in a good mood. Shinazguawa had pressed every single one of his buttons today. His history students had been more unruly than usual. And he had come home to have yet another evening of arguments with his alcoholic father. 

Once Senjuro had gone to bed, Kyojuro had left. He got into his car and just drove. He didn’t even really think about a destination but he was not exactly surprised when his autopilot mode led him straight to your door.

He was out of the car and knocking on your door without even caring what time of night it was. He knew you would be home. It was a weeknight, you never went out on weeknights unless it was for dinner with him or with one of your families.

You opened the door in a bathrobe, having just got out of the bath. He was on you before the door could be shut. He used his foot to close it behind him as he pulled you into his arms, his mouth descending on yours, tongue pushing past your lips and dominating the kiss as he fumbled behind him for the lock. 

You had no idea what had gotten into him, but you didn’t mind at all. You buried your fingers in his hair, kissing him back. You moaned as he pressed you against the wall. His mouth left yours to move hungrily to your neck, hands damn near ripping open your robe (that you were suddenly glad had only been tied loosely).

“You good baby?” you asked, biting your lip and tilting your head back to give him more access.

“Bad day,” he said between sucks and nips of your skin. He lifted his head to meet your gaze. The fire in his eyes burned hotter than ever before. “I do not wish to speak about it right now. I only wish to lose myself in you.”

“‘I’ve got you, baby, always,” you answered, pulling his head to yours. “Take what you need, it’s yours.”

He growled as he kissed you passionately, before pulling back to rip his shirt off over his head. Your hands were already at his pants, undoing the button and zipper to slide your hand inside and cup his hard cock. 

“Fuck,” he swore as you began to stroke him as he worked his pants down before kicking them off. 

You began to drop to your knees, wanting to feel him and taste him in your mouth but he grabbed your arms and stopped you, pulling you closer, your nude bodies pressed together. He gave you a small smirk, “I believe your words were to take what I need?”

You nodded, feeling yourself getting even more wet. He turned you around and bent you over the back of your couch before moving behind you. He pushed one of your legs up so that your knee rested near your body on the top of the couch. You moaned as you felt his fingers sliding back and forth in your slick before dipping inside, testing the waters.

He dragged the head of his cock back and forth before positioning it at your opening and pressing in. He leaned over you, kissing up your back as you moaned. He felt so good, you were so full, stretched, his cock so deep. 

“Tell me when you’re good,” he said, mouthing your neck. “Because we are not starting slow today, my love. I need this too bad, I need you too bad.”

You whimpered with pleasure as you felt his teeth on your skin. His hands moved, one on the back thigh of the lifted leg, bracing it and holding it in place. The other hand buried in your hair, pulling your hair back just hard enough to tilt your head so he could kiss you. 

He broke the kiss and looked down at you. Your lids were already heavy, eyes glossy, fuck you already looked cock drunk and he hadn’t even started to move.  

You lifted your head and kissed him again. “When.”

Kyojuro kissed you messy, passionately before pulling back and moving the hand in your hair down to your hip to hold you in place. He licked his lips as he looked at where you were joined, deciding to do a couple of slow thrusts, just enjoying watching the way your pussy took him. One. Two. 

The tightening of his fingers in their holds was the only warning you got before he was fucking into you hard and fast. His fingers were going to leave bruises on your skin, but he would kiss every one and worship you like a goddess later. Right now, he just needed to get lost in your sweet, sloppy cunt.

You clutched at the couch cushions, trying to sink your nails into the fabric, trying to find something to anchor yourself on as filthy noises fell from your lips, so vulgar sounding you hardly believed they were coming from you. His hips were snapping forward, his balls smacking into you with each thrust. 

His hand moved from your thigh inward to start rubbing circles on your clit. He moved his hips around until you cried out his name when he hit that perfect spot. He grinned behind you. His other hand moved to be buried in your hair, pulling your head up in a firm grip. “I want to hear you, baby. Let me hear you.”

You wailed his name as your orgasm slammed into you, covering his groin and balls in your honey, a creamy ring forming around the base of his cock. The sight of you like that… the sounds you were making… the squelches coming from your perfect pussy… that perfect fucking cunt of yours with your soft hot walls contracting, fluttering and pulsing on his cock sent him over the edge. 

Your mouth fell open and wordless sounds escaped your throat as he pounded into you even harder through your orgasm as lightning coursed through your veins and pleasure filled your being. His strokes were no longer in any type of rhythm, but all were equally deep. Filling you so perfectly as only he ever had. His fingers were still working at your sensitive clit.

“Cum for me, one more time, cum for me,” he said through gritted teeth. 

It took only another few swipes of his thumb to have you falling apart for him again, fireworks exploding behind your eyes as your pussy throbbed and gushed around him. You were a whimpering, sweaty mess.

“That’s it, that’s it! Take me with you, love, take me with you,” his hands were both on your waist as he pulled you back onto his cock over and over until his orgasm hit. He moaned your name, moving his hips as he filled you with his cum. 

He slumped over you, resting his sweaty forehead against your equally wet skin. He gave you several gentle kisses on your shoulder before he released your leg and pulled out of you, watching the mixtures of juices drip slowly out of your well used hole. 

“Stay like that, I’ll get you a towel love,” he says gently.

“That won’t be an issue,” you answered into the couch cushion you were currently slumped over. 

He returned, cleaning you gently with a warm cloth before helping you stand. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing you gently. “You okay? Was I too rough?”

You smiled up at him, sleepy from your work out. “I’m good, Kyo You were fine, perfect, as always, I promise.”

He chuckled at how well sated you looked. “Bed time?”

“Oh yeah,” you laughed, trying to step back but your noodle legs almost gave out. A chuckle escaped your lips as he picked you up bridal style and walked towards your bedroom, both of you still naked. 

You’d find your guy's clothes in the morning before you went to work. All you wanted was to lay in bed with Kyojuro and soak in his warmth. 

You smiled as he set you down on the edge of the bed before pulling down the covers and moving you up on the bed. He moved to the other side, covering you both with the blanket and scooting in closer to you, pulling you into his arms.

You turned towards him, smiling when he did the same, one arm under his head the other wrapped around your waist pulling you against him. You cupped his face and gave him several gentle kisses. “Feel better?”

“Truthfully, I did the minute I saw you. But yes, the amazing sex definitely helped.”

You giggled at his bluntness. “You wanna talk about it?”

He sighed, rolling onto his back. “Just a rough day, Y/N. Nothing to be worried about. Shinazugawa as in a horrible mood today, more so than usual. And my students were… more restless than usual. Every single class at that.”

“A Full moon must be coming soon.”

“How do you figure that?” he arched a prominent eyebrow at you.

“Easy, the hormonal teenagers are going crazy, their true demonic forms beginning to take over.”

“And Shinazugawa?”

“Oh. On full moons I just assumed he turned into a wolfman.”

Kyojuryo couldn’t hold back the laugh, kissing your head as you moved to rest your chin on his chest.

“But neither of those things would put you in that… stressed of a mood,” you prodded. 

“The fights with my father are becoming more frequent and tonight he was on a tear.”

“Werewolf?”

“I think it’s more the Sake but we’ll definitely investigate the back yard for strange prints when we return,” he shook his head, knowing you were only trying to lighten the mood.

“Maybe… it’s time you moved in, Kyojuro.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You know what we just did out there in the living room?” you asked.

He gave you an incredulous look, “It is rather difficult to forget that, especially that quickly, love.”

You leaned in to nip his ear lobe. “We can do that… every… single… day… if you move in. Not just on bad days either.”

“My love,” he said, wrapping arms around you and rolling you onto your back so he rested between your legs, leaning over you. “If we could do that every single day, I do not think there could possibly be such a thing as a bad day.”

“So… still thinking about it?” you asked, running fingers through his hair.

He gave you a mischievous smirk as he leaned down and kissed you, pressing his groin against you, showing you his interest was already peaking again. The man had been blessed with stamina, there was no denying that. “I may need a little more convincing, my lady.”

You grinned up at him, trailing your eyes and your fingers down his neck, over his shoulders, and down his muscular upper body. Your exhaustion suddenly dissipating as renewed interest pulsed between your thighs. “I would be happy to assist.”

“Good,” he said, leaning down to capture your lips again. 

He knew damn well he had made up his mind, but he would never turn down a chance for another round in pound town with you. He was many things but he was not a fool. Except for when it came to you. 

Your lips met once again in a much slower, more sensual kiss and in the back of his mind he heard the melody from that old American 1960’s song by Elvis.

Shall I stay?

Would it be, would it be a sin?

If I can't help falling in love with you

[gemsofthegalaxy]

one more second here defending Stolas sorry sorry but like

yes Stolas was quick to react poorly to how Blitz responded and he should have given him a moment to process, and gave Blitz more grace for being, well, how Blitz always kind of is. Blitz being goofy with a mean edge to it is something Stolas actually likes about him, after all

however, we can see the state Stolas has worked himself into before Blitz arrives. He's so nervous he pukes in the morning, vacillates wildly in thinking of the way tonight is going to go, and still ends up putting all his hopes on it working out well, while, clearly, being convinced that it won't

Blitz's self-loathing is integral to his character, 100%, hands-down... but Stolas doesn't exactly think he's super deserving of love, either?

He's always been shunned by his peers, his father had to buy him a friend and only cared to do so because it was his birthday once. he was married off from a young age to a woman who held nothing but disdain for him. his greatest joy in life is his relationship with his daughter which is rocky at best due to his own screw-ups. he has precious few relationships to get any practice or experience in dealing with conflict, other than the aforementioned wife which is mostly screaming matches and I doubt he wants to handle conflict with Blitz the same way.

he was bouncing his leg and frowning deeply prior to Blitz' arrival, clear signs of nervousness and unease. and the thing is, he tried to prepare himself emotionally for any outcome, obviously, but he doesn't exactly have the most fantastic social skills in the world and nor does he have a lot of experience handling the big emotions of rejection. he's never had an actual relationship before; he was first in an arranged marriage and hasn't had eyes for anyone but Blitz since. he clearly has romantic notions, but they undoubtedly come from fiction, and it makes sense he wouldn't be able to cope with being disbelieved and then argued with about said giant emotions and his heart's desires

which sucks. he's an adult and he needs to learn to regulate himself enough to have a conversation, but, given the lack of experience he has with it it's not exactly an outrageous reaction to be having? and i personally just have faith that he's gonna Get There or at least make progress over the series because frankly what else would be the point in a show like this

[shyvioletlife]

My dad is so radicalized to the far right that I honestly just don’t know what to do at this point. He gets his main source of information from right wing youtube alternatives that the people he used to watch on YouTube back in 2016 moved to after getting kicked off. Every conversation with him rapidly turns into a political conversation and it’s such an exhausting minefield of conservative buzzwords and conspiracy theories that it feels like an insurmountable wall to attempt to dismantle, and every attempt to try is rebuffed anyway

[ihearnocomplaints]

I point you all to my ko-fi page once more -> link

my parents, enraged that I didn’t sort a massive mound of clothes yesterday (after doing the other chores they asked), essentially decided they are going to start charging me rent.

So this is just in preparation for that moment when they do start asking. I’m still trying to save up to move out. It’s not a huge deal yet (idk how much they’re going to charge) so there’s no pressure to donate.

I work a full time job so I can’t really give much in return. But I can take doodle requests upon proof of donation! I’ll doodle any DCA you want.

Thanks.

[thedevotionaltour]

personally i like to envision a time where matt tries to be a dick and rags on foggy for his snacks and foggy just shoots back asking matt what's with the large coke sitting on his desk then. that's the second large coke i've seen grace your desk this week. and it's not even a bottle you got at the store that's a cup. that's a large cup. should i mention the can in the garbage too. and matt shuts up from there for the afternoon.

[themyscirah]

Suffering more than Jesus atm (being a fan of 80s/90s Suicide squad in 2024)

[lovelaceisntdead]

night time panic attacks are back 😐

[ssaalexblake]

For all the Yaz is the Doctor stuff, I kind of appreciate that 13 (incredibly) is more emotionally open and honest than Yaz. I mean, she is still not emotionally honest or open, but compared to Yaz? She’s winning the gold medal for transparency. 

Because they’re still the Same, it’s just 13′s older. 

[fishbit]

lmao im poly and queer why is it so hard to be Like That

[biteapple]

awhile back my roommate stopped using the shared trashcan and started just putting bags and bags of trash in their room to fill up and take out later and was doing this for months and at the same time i stopped methodically cleaning everything in the house constantly cause i was the only one. cleaning always. so i cleaned just not Daily like he wanted me to. and exactly as these two things collided just. cockroaches everywhere. great.