#need to make that a tag with how much shit I change

[megamindsecretlair]

Make Me Weak, Part 2

Pairing: Sex Therapist!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, mentions of depression, anxiety, and description of sex acts and sexual issues. Hair pulling, PIV, condom use. Power imbalance, Shy!reader. Dark!Terry. Dom!Terry, AU Terry, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some. I'm not a therapist and while I do not make light of therapy, this is purely for my own fun. Please seek real medical attention when necessary.

Summary: You followed Dr. Richmond’s instructions to the best of your ability. You spent so much time in your mind that willingly descending into your body was an experience that opened your eyes to how much you had neglected. Your second session forces you to confront more truths than what you were ready for. 

Terry reaches some conclusions of his own as he tries to shake whatever is ailing him by disappearing between Tasia’s thighs. Yet his mind is on you, on your thoughts and words. During the second session, he can’t help but push you beyond your limit.

Word Count: 5,018k

Part 1 | AO3 Link

A/N: I'n back babbyyyy. I got so inspired reading so many lovely fics. Plus the encouraging asks really helped. I had TOO much fun writing this and you will not hurt my feelings if you don't want to read this one. However, I must tag to keep my taglist updated. Forgive me, my loves. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You

Hot steam rolled out from the shower as you set it to your desired temperature. You faced yourself in the mirror, thinking over Dr. Richmond’s words. You supposed that there was some truth to what he had told you.

Most people did start by exploring their own bodies first. It must be so easy for guys. Close the door, grab some lotion, and rub one out. Girls on the other hand…your life was constantly spent in a state of panic.

Panic that anything on your person would make your mother snap. Harsh criticisms hidden behind “just talkin’ shit” that Black people liked to hide behind. You were too sensitive to jokey-joke with when you weren’t able to reciprocate. It’s not like you could talk about your mom. It’s not like you could throw insults back in her face and tell her to take it in stride.

Panic that you could be caught or exposed at any point. You were a grown woman, yes. You were also taught to believe that you needed to act as if someone was watching. You believed there was some kind of life after all this and so wouldn’t it stand to reason that someone or something would be looking at you? Or worse, someone would come flying through your door because your family lacked boundaries? 

Panic that you didn’t know what lay on the other side of an orgasm. How would you feel? How would you look? Surely something like that changed a person. Feeling that rush of relief for the first time had to be special. Had to be amazing. Otherwise, why would anyone ever be obsessed with sex? 

Panic that you’d never reach that peak and fall over. Never feel that rush of euphoria that everyone talked about. Porn, books, friend groups. You always felt left out and you didn’t want to anymore, dammit. 

You watched yourself in the mirror as steam overtook it, inch by inch. Until you were only staring at your eyes and the disbelief written all over your face. Would this even work? Were you wasting your time? 

“I need total, focused commitment from you.”

Dr. Richmond’s sultry voice skittered along your naked skin. Goosebumps raised on your flesh from the cold air moving through the house. You would be focused. You would be committed. This was something you wanted so badly, you were fucking desperate. 

So you took deep, measured breaths using the Box method a previous therapist told you about. You inhaled for a count of four, held for four, exhaled for a count of four, and then held it for four. You repeated the process, doing a full body scan. 

You focused on your head, starting with your scalp. You focused on your forehead, feeling the tension melt away and your eyebrows start to relax. You hadn’t even realized that you had it scrunched.

You brought your attention to your eyes, unfocusing them, and allowed them to close. You repeated the process, breathing the entire time, settling down into your body when your mind wanted so badly to escape. To flee. To leave the Horrors. 

When you felt your mind drift, you didn’t chastise yourself. You continued to breathe, focusing on your breaths until you continued with your scan. Your body relaxed fraction by fraction. Your shoulders lowered from up around your neck. Aches and pains became more prominent. 

Your belly expanded and you sighed. You hadn’t even noticed how often you clenched your stomach, never allowing yourself a full breath. You always had to be on edge. Never knew where the next danger was coming from. What new fresh hell you would encounter just around the corner. 

By the time you reached your feet, you felt more relaxed than you had in a long time. Your body prickled with your newfound awareness. Steam caressed your bareskin and you quickly hopped in the shower, letting the warm water cascade across your body.

The water felt different on your body. Each droplet may as well have been a tiny earthquake, popping all over your skin and making you tingle. This…wasn’t too bad. 

You lathered up your facial scrub and gently moisturized your face, soothing the stiff areas. Your jaw popped as it loosened and you moaned from the relief. 

How long? How long have you spent outside of your body? A stranger to it? A foreigner to this vessel you carried around? Had you truly loved your body when you were so alien to it? Or had you just learned to layer on the armor and pretend? 

God, you felt like crying. With one session, Dr. Richmond already had you re-thinking your entire life. Like the answer was there in your face the entire time and you just needed him to shine a light on it. 

You rinsed your face while you grabbed a washcloth and lathered up with your favorite soap. You added body wash and then took your time trailing the washcloth around your body. Starting with your neck, you worked your way down to your chest. 

You took your time feeling the rough cloth against your smooth, watery skin. You rounded the washcloth across your nipples and they beaded under the slow torture. Oh, this was new. This was very nice. 

You were focused, letting the water act as a sound machine, lulling you into a further relaxed state. You followed the washcloth with your hand, moving over and under your areolas and nipples. You pinched your nipples and gave it a tug. You gasped from the responding tug in your pussy.

You moved on, remembering Dr. Richmond’s words about not making it sexual. But fuck, how could you not? 

Heat flushed beneath your skin that had nothing to do with the hot water on your body. You washed your back and then moved lower, skirting your throbbing pussy and washed your legs and dug the cloth between your toes. 

On the way up, your fingers glided around your mound, your hips pushing forward. Your breathing turned rapid, feeling yourself getting more and more excited. Your brain turned to mush, retreating from your actions. Like it wanted to picture something else. You shook your head, and started up with your Box breathing again.

You stopped mid-shower to reorient yourself and get yourself back into that zone of ultimate calm. If Dr. Richmond were there…

You focused on what he might say. There was no rush. There was no rulebook for this sort of thing. There was no reason to chastise yourself. There was no test to pass or box you had to check in order to achieve an orgasm. You just needed to relax, dammit. 

Slowly, achingly slow, you went back to that calm. You continued lathering up your body and then rinsed the soap off. You repeated the process, adding more soap to thoroughly wash your body. To enjoy the feel of the cloth and water and soap on your skin. On your body. 

“This is the only body you’ll ever have so it’s time to think beyond simple body maintenance. Admire your body.”

This was the only body you would ever have. It was time you stopped treating it like the enemy. 

You turned off the water and then got out. The chill air hit the water on your back and you shrieked and shivered, quickly drying off. You went through your nightly routine, taking care of your teeth, face, and deodorant. You sat down on a decorated stool in your bathroom to apply your lotion.

As instructed, you looked at your body. Every mole, every scar, every bump, and every wayward hair. Being in your body was weird to say the least. You had to disassociate to survive your childhood and you never learned to drop those defenses. Your body never realized that it wasn't at war anymore. Or perhaps it was and this was battle fatigue. You were so damn tired.

You massaged the lotion into your skin and then slipped in your panties. You pulled on an ankle bracelet you got while visiting New York once and it made you feel extra pretty, so why not. You turned on your bedside light and pulled out a notebook.

You started a new entry and wrote about the sensations and revelations you experienced. Some of it you would discuss with Dr. Richmond and some of it was never leaving your grave. It felt good to get it all out, uninterrupted.

Sometimes, venting to someone else just gave them room to talk over you. To steer the direction back to them. Brooklyn was like that. In an effort to relate, she ended up taking over the convo and made it about her situation. Then you ended up comforting her about her issue and never feeling truly heard about yours.

In a journal however, you pretended that you were just relaying it to a friend. The type of friend who allowed you to speak. To get your jumbled thoughts out without getting mad or trying overshadow you. 

Done, you collapsed against your bed as if every ounce of strength left your body. You breathed through it, allowed your body to rest for a moment. The hell kind of voo-doo shit did your therapist put you through?

Immediately, warning bells went off in your mind. Surely, you would be whisked away to some super important task around the house. Surely, your phone would ring with some awful accident you had to attend to. Surely…nothing. You were drained. You had nothing. 

You had just enough energy to put the journal up, turn off the light, and drift off to the deepest sleep of your life.

Terry

Tasia bounced like a porn star on Terry’s dick and it wasn’t doing a damn thing for him. He felt himself getting soft the more Tasia shuddered with her pleasure. At least one of them was having fun. 

Maybe he rushed this. Too intent on getting you out of his mind that he hopped immediately into Tasia’s warm heat and didn’t consider that there was no substitution. He knew it was irrational to be drawn to you so fast. After only one session. He was conflicted on that front, but it went beyond just looks. 

Your case, your assessments, your willingness to try, and your obvious smarts was a cocktail shooting through his veins and turning his body liquid. The perfect sub was dropped into his lap and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

And as a man used to getting his way in the bedroom, it stuck in his craw that he couldn’t have you. That it wasn’t your pussy that his dick disappeared inside of. Would you moan loudly? Were you shy in the bedroom? Were you enthusiastic? 

What would your mouth look like taking the full length of him? How far down could you suck him? Did that same determination translate to the bedroom?

Tasia grunted beneath him as his dick rose back to life, thoughts of you turning him harder than a brick. He could build a house with how hard he was at the moment, picturing the curves on your body. The natural handles in your waist for his big hands to wrap around. To hold.

He moaned, picturing it all so clearly. His thumbs would dig into your back. The sounds you would make. His hips jerked just thinking of pounding into you. No mercy. You weren’t some fragile flower. Your insightful thoughts were like a mirror to his own. He wanted to explore with you. And the fact that he couldn’t had him pulling Tasia’s hair back.

“Call me Dr. Richmond,” he commanded.

“Yes, D-Dr. Richmond,” Tasia moaned. It was starting to piss him off. 

“Softer,” he said.

“Yes, Dr. Richmond,” she said, bringing her voice lower, softer. It was nowhere near your voice, but it’d do for the fantasy he concocted in his head. He didn’t have time for any extra tricks tonight. He just needed to get to the other side of his nut. 

He closed his eyes and thought about your case. He wondered if you were doing as you were told. He wondered how well you would take commands in the bedroom. If he even had to give commands at all. If you’d instinctively know what he needed when he needed it. Tasia used to know that. Tasia used to have him out of breath. 

Now…she was a beautiful girl with deep mocha skin, a cute face, and wide expressive eyes. She was like a little doe in a meadow somewhere. He was attracted to the overall softness of her and of her body. The natural way she seemed to know what he needed. 

Perhaps it was him that had changed. His tastes. He was no longer interested in a casual sub-relationship. Perhaps he wanted a more permanent sub. One he could explore every single nasty fantasy with and never get bored. He was getting older, getting into his early-thirties without a significant partner.

And that was what he wanted. A partner. An equal. Someone he raced home to see or spent his days thinking about how he would break her and put her back together like a puzzle box. 

Terry groaned and came into the condom, gripping Tasia’s asscheeks for dear life. It was one of the hardest climaxes he ever experienced. His release triggered hers, causing her to fall forward as her pussy gripped his dick. 

He pulled out and immediately disposed of the condom, coming back to help clean up Tasia. 

“That was…different,” she said, using the word in place of something else. He didn’t want his reputation to slacken in that regard, but hell, this whole thing had been a mistake. He still made sure she came twice before he did, but he usually put more oomph into his sexual exploits. 

He usually had Tasia popping her pussy on his face, or contorting her like a pretzel. Now…he was just over it. Over trying to impress someone that wasn’t permanent in his life. That he couldn’t play with whenever he wanted. He was no longer excited at the prospect of making many women cum. He just wanted to make one cum over and over again. He wanted to collect each one like trophies. 

Terry grabbed Tasia’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Forgive me. Tonight should’ve probably been a gym night,” he said. He smiled for good measure, but it was a close-lipped smile.

“Oh, I’m not complaining. That dick still know how to rock my world,” she said. She stood up, pulling on her sweats and sweatshirt, and slipping on her sneakers. He sat down on the bed and watched her, not feeling an ounce of desire. 

She leaned over and grabbed his chin, making him look up at her. “You take care of yourself and whatever or whoever got you in this funk. And if you need more relief, you know my number,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with another close-lipped smile. Tasia had been one of his longest play partners, he’d be sorry to see her go. She smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek, showing herself out. 

Terry sat in his fancy bedroom in his fancy house, staring at the empty archway Tasia disappeared through. His mind and body told him that he was ready for something more. Something tangible. Something he could hold and never let go. He only hoped he found it soon.

You

You clutched your journal to your chest as you sat in Dr. Richmond’s office. Nothing about it had changed except the man himself. He chose to wear a cream colored outfit. A soft, oatmeal colored sweater and khaki pants with white sneakers. His gold rimmed glasses flashed every so often from the light overhead and you couldn’t help catching every single thing about him. If only to distract you from your racing thoughts.

It was one thing to live in your body when you were in the comfort of your own bathroom. Your mind escaped once more, retreated to the safest place you knew. Your knee bounced with nervousness. 

“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to. This is a safe space. It’s your space. You get to decide what we do here,” he said. 

You closed your eyes to the sound of his voice. If he wasn’t so damn helpful, you’d ask for someone else. Literally, anyone else. But he was the first therapist to give you a glimpse of the other side. You wanted that more than you were embarrassed.

“No, I want to share. I need to share,” you said. You licked your lips and then cracked open your journal. You skimmed over things you didn’t want to reveal just yet. Too embarrassing for a second meeting, of course.

“I think…I think my mind is safer. I am constantly on alert that I’m “doing the right thing”, as opposed to what actually makes me happy,” you said. 

When you didn’t say anything, Terry leaned back in his seat. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the golden brown of his forearms. Your mind emptied of any other thought until he cleared his throat. “Can you expand on that?” 

You looked up into his eyes before heat rushed to your ears. You looked back at your journal, focusing on that rather than his lush, pink lips. 

You told him more about how you reached this conclusion. That there was a standard for being Black that you never quite achieved. That at any moment, multiple mobs of people were coming for your Black card. Or, you were constantly trying to over-achieve at school. You had to work twice as hard, had to be the smartest in the class, because if you came home with a B, your mom went on a long rant about being stupid and never achieving anything real in life. Or how everyone praised you at work for going above and beyond and then got mad when you couldn’t sustain it. You were constantly on the lookout for someone else’s standard.

“I have so many fucking voices in my ear, telling me to do this or do that. And I fucking hate it. Which is wild considering that that’s what I seek in a sexual partner,” you said.

Dr. Richmond smiled and nodded. “Your mind is trying to re-contextualize your upbringing. Being submissive is actually about putting yourself in the position of power. A dom is only as good as how well he treats his sub. It’s about the ultimate act of trust on the submissive’s part,” he explained.

“Yes! And how can I trust that someone isn’t going to…take what I say or want and abuse that or make fun of me for it?” You asked. You played with the corner of your journal, not willing to look at Dr. Richmond. You didn’t need to see the pathetic pity in his steel blue eyes. 

“You have to stand resolute in what you want. You have to recognize that pleasure and sex is about give and take. Trust and acceptance. The right partner isn’t going to make fun of you, abuse you, or rush you,” he said. 

You sighed and leaned back on the brown sofa. You felt like you were chasing a unicorn. What kind of guy was willing to be dominant and care about your needs? Reassure you when you needed and took control when your body sent massive panicked waves at him? Took care of the trust you were placing in him to help you relax and cum? While also being physically attractive to you and have you be attracted to him; not a chubby chaser, not a creep, and not an abuser? 

It was impossible. Hopeless.  

“If you’re comfortable, tell me more about what you found,” he said.

You took your mind off of your dream mystery man. When the fuck was it going to be your turn? 

You scanned your journal once more, noting the sensations about actually living inside your body. “I think when I feel an orgasm approaching, I get scared. And that could be part of why I’m blocking it, but even when I’m alone, I don’t know what it feels like. Or…”

“Or…?” Dr. Richmond prompted. 

You grimaced. Fuck, this was so hard to put into words. Too hard to expose yourself like this. But did you want to reach your sixties, seventies, never having a true orgasm? Never finding your way to actual release? 

“Or, there’s no way to control the orgasm,” you said.

Dr. Richmond nodded. “The goal isn’t to control it, you know,” he said. 

“I know!” You groaned and stood up. You thought better on your feet. Or maybe when you had something to do, you were better able to regulate the jumble of emotions inside of you. No wonder your emotions were all over the place. You spent too long disassociating, too long in your mind and not enough in your body. 

“What benefit do you get from being in control all the time?” The scratch of his pen on the notebook drew your attention to him. To his pretty face, dark eyelashes, and push lips. You watched as he wrote in his notebook. Watched the lines and planes of his gorgeous face. His short curled afro. 

“If I’m in control, if I never look weak or stupid or incompetent, then I win. I win at life. And all my bullies, from school to home are all wrong. There’s nothing wrong with me because I know what to do. I know what to say. I’m not an alien,” you said, taking a deep breath at the revelation.

Whatever your insurance company was paying him, they needed to double it. You admitted things you never had in the past. Your previous therapists attacked your problem sex first, focusing on different methods you could try. Some wanted you to describe, in detail, whatever you did to get yourself off. Safe to say they weren’t practicing ever again. 

“Do you believe there’s something wrong with you?” He asked. He leaned back in his seat, giving you an unflinching stare. His face gave away nothing, revealed nothing, as you thought through his question. 

“All the fucking time. Why else do friends keep leaving me? Or guys don’t want me? Or my mom is…my mom,” you said. 

“Have you considered that you aren’t the problem?” He asked.

“How could I not be? I’m the only common denominator,” you said. You flopped back onto the couch but it wasn’t that soft. It thudded under your weight and you took a deep breath. Fuck, you wanted to cry. Tears pricked your eyes, turning them hot and itchy. You refused to cry in front of this man. 

This strange, quiet man who seemed to read you like one of the many books on his bookshelf. No wonder he had so many degrees. He could drag a full confession from a mute. 

“That may be true. But, bear with me, consider that you aren’t the problem. If you take yourself out of the equation, what are you left with?” He asked. He leaned forward on his desk and the sudden intensity of the question made your mind blank.

You had…nothing. No explanation, no back up. You were used to making yourself the problem. The issue had to be you. If it wasn’t you…

You shrugged your shoulders and looked away from him. The silence stretched on, so quiet you could hear the quiet tick of the clock on the wall. 

“Don’t shy away now, dig into it. If it’s not you, then…?” Dr. Richmond prompted. 

The question only seemed to make you clamp up. Your tongue swelled. Your throat constricted. If it wasn’t you, then what? Everyone was incapable of giving you what you wanted? Everyone just had an agenda against you? Please, that was narcissistic as hell. 

Dr. Richmond stood up from his desk and took off his glasses. He pulled out a drawer and retrieved a glass cleaner cloth. He cleaned his glasses and walked around the front of his desk.

“Consider, for a moment, that other people have deficiencies as well. That people congregate in groups because biologically, it’s safer. We seek groups to be in and when we can’t find one, we tend to think that we’re the problem. That we are outcasts, getting left out to defend ourselves. But all that means is that we haven’t found our group yet. You’re trying to fit a round peg into a square hole. You don’t belong with the squares, so no, you won’t fit in with them. 

“The same goes for sex. Everybody has their preferences. People have their kinks, their needs. When those needs aren’t meant, society teaches us to look at our own deficiencies rather than someone else’s. Perhaps the man you need sexually is far different from the men you take to bed,” he said. He waved around his glasses as he spoke, drawing attention to his massive hands. 

Seriously, they were huge. Like two lion paws that could strike down someone with one hit. He held his glasses by the frame, waving it around delicately as he spoke. You were still paying attention to his words, but fuck…he was unreal. 

“But how do I find the man that I need sexually?” You asked.

Terry

Terry inwardly groaned as you asked him that. Plenty of suggestions came to mind, each too crass to suggest. How could he tell you to go into another man’s arms? How could he send you to another man to unleash that hidden hellcat within you and he wouldn’t get to experience it? 

He needed to end this. End this before it even began. He placed his glasses back on his face and crossed a line that he never thought he would. “I think we have more work to do to adjust the way you think about sex before we get into how you attract what you’re seeking. In fact, I’d suggest you abstain from sex until we get deeper into this,” he said.

“Abstain?” You snorted and he fought a smile. Your face showed absolute disgust, like the mere thought was abhorrent. 

“Abstain. From what you’ve told me and what’s in your file, you jumped from overcoming your initial thoughts and reluctance about sex right to jumping into bed. Without really, truly exploring yourself first. Kids explore their bodies all the time right? They grow conscious of themselves and start thinking about hey, my equipment is different from someone else’s equipment,” he said.

You couldn’t help but giggle and it caused him to smirk in return. Yes, it was silly. Talking about sex was silly. But it was true. “And as you start to notice people that you’re attracted to, you start to grow conscious of hormones in your system. Brain chemistry. All the fun stuff that goes into attraction. You start to touch yourself more, explore your preferences through porn or books or experimentation.”

You cringed when he brought up experimentation. He tilted his head. “Did you go through an experimentation phase?” He asked.

You closed your eyes and sighed as if it were the last question you wanted to answer. You completely fascinated him. He had no idea what would come out of your mouth next. How you would respond to certain questions or ideas. 

He snuck a glance at the clock, he was nearing the end of the session. He flexed his jaw. This was so damn irritating. By the time you were willing to open up, it was time to end it. He wished he could carve out a month of sessions to get you to lower your defenses and let him inside. 

“No? I grew up in the wrong generation. All everyone thought about was sex and while I did too, no one was checking for the fat Black nerds unless it was a prank. And I saw everything as a prank. I was always getting pointed at, made fun of, stared at. Jesus, being exposed fucking sucks! So, no, I didn’t experiment. There was no one to fucking experiment with. 

“And it wasn’t like I could go ten feet from my mom without her up my ass about where I was going. Claiming she just didn’t want me to get snatched when all she really wanted was just to control me. To not let me end up like her. Young and pregnant,” you practically yelled, spewing way more vitriol than he expected.

He figured it was a sore spot for you by the way you grimaced, but he hadn’t been expecting…that. Again, he balled his fists thinking of every person that ever let you down. Every person that was supposed to uplift you, guide you, help you, all dropped the ball in teaching you about self love.

Every experience every kid was supposed to have was denied to you. Instead of being asked out with interest, with sincerity, boys treated it like a prank. He was wild in his youth, he wasn’t always nice to people, or he went through life like a little gremlin. But he liked to think he mellowed somewhat in high school. Treating everyone with respect. From the nerds to the jocks. He didn’t know what not trusting people’s words felt like. Like everything that someone said came laced with poisoned barbs ready to sting. 

“This is so fucking stupid,” you whispered. Your lip trembled but no tears fell down your face. 

Fuck, even now you were trying to hold everything in. Control a natural response to something painful. “When was the last time you cried?” Terry asked.

You stood up and snatched your purse and journal from the couch. “Session’s up, right?” You asked. You avoided looking at him as you rushed to the exit. The faux glass door clanged against the wall as you threw open the door and left, steps echoing on the linoleum flooring. 

He stared at the door as it lazily swung back and he wondered. And he pondered. 

Wheww, need more? The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1

Taglist: You guys, ya'll gon make me cry with this taglist! Thank you!

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[fairandfatalasfair]

Messy Disaster Besties Crystal & Edwin fic recs

@gendrsoup tagged my "I need more Crystal and Edwin growing into their friendship" post with: #YES PLEASE#I LOVE THEIR FRIENDSHIP I ADORE THEM#fav#I NEED THE FIC RECS SO BADLY so... here's some messy disaster besties Crystal & Edwin fic recs --

An Unformed Life by takadainmate - 1 chapter, 12 497 words Incredible character study of Crystal figuring out how she fits with the boys post canon and making space for herself in the agency and her and Edwin finding their footing with each other (and also some solid Edwin whump.)

A Room Of One's Own by DarkStars - 1 chapter, 11 192 words Crystal perspective on payneland generally failing to figure their shit out while she rolls her eyes and snaps at them for the frankly unreasonable amounts of sexual tension in the office. Also includes some really lovely soft moments of understanding between Edwin and Crystal towards the end.

A Teenage Psychic's Guide to Having a Mostly Probably Functional Life by @acediscowlng - WIP, 1/2 chapters so far, 5 557 words Lovely Crystal character study ft. Crystal and Edwin watching some of Niko's movies together. I love how much Crystal gets to just be a traumatized grieving 17 year old in this fic, trying to figure out how to stay friends after a breakup and how to be nice when you don't really like yourself that much, and how Edwin meets her where she's at in all her dysfunctional glory, it feeds my soul.

Dance the Night by Gruoch - 11 chapters, 69 182 words Very intense plot-heavy rollercoaster of a story - a casefic in which Charles ends up in a dangerous situation and Edwin and Crystal have to team up to get to him while risking their lives to protect each other against a seriously terrifying opponent and bickering like cats and dogs the whole while. Lots of angst for everyone, but especially Edwin.

how could anything bad ever happen to you - 1 chapter, 11 070 words Really fascinating dynamics both between Crystal and Edwin and Crystal and Charles. Lots of neat worldbuilding around the plot as well, which focuses on the gang trying to get Niko back. Has a sequel which is also very good (but less Crystal-centric)

Iphigenia by @e-vasong - 1 chapter, 9 567 words Vampire AU where the boys are vampires instead of ghosts, and Crystal was enthralled by David before the boys rescued her. I love the nuanced take on Crystal and the way her relationship with Edwin especially changes over the course of the fic. (Also highly recommend this author's other work!)

-

Shorter fics: I'm Bitter But I Swear I'm Fine by @cordelia-noir - 727 words, Edwin comforting Crystal after her parents have let her down, very sweet. We'll Work On It by @ahyperactivehero - 1716 words, Edwin and Crystal working on magic and bonding over rich neglectful parents, hardcore sibling vibes, adorable.

(add on in the notes!!! add your own fics!! add your friends' fics!! feed my TBR pile...)

[readerstories]

Our Alpha - Poolverine x male reader

Someone was talking about A/B/O on my dash, and for some reason my brain took it, ran away with it, and came back with this fic. (AO3)

Warnings/tags: a/b/o dynamics, male reader, porn without much plot, anal, fingering, oral, knotting, friends to lovers

Wordcount: 4935

Summary: Wade and Logan accidentally trigger on of you ruts. Fuckery ensues. (Reader is about the same height as Logan and Wade, has hair, and is clean shaven. Age wise he has had ruts for more than a decade.)

When you first met Logan, you had been surprised that he’s not an alpha. All about him screams alpha, the posturing, caring, the strength. But, after Wade had explained to you that Logan came from a universe where alphas, betas, and omegas are not a thing at all, it made a lot more sense. He’s just Logan, not anything else.

Logan is a great addition to your friend group, even though he takes up a spot you had wanted for a good while, that being the one of Wade’s partner. You have known Wade for years, and he had always been in love with Vanessa, even when they had broken up. So you had long since settled for just being near Wade, and now near Wade and Logan.

Sometimes you will have movie nights over at their apartment, just the three of you. It’s almost a sweet kind of torture, being so close to them with no on else around, but you will take what you can get in just about any context.

Which is why you find yourself in front of their apartment door, ringing the doorbell, bag of snacks in hand.

When Wade opens the door, you are about to greet him like usual, but the words die on your tongue as the smell hits you.

Wade’s blood. Logan’s blood. The lingering scent of sex. Sex between Wade and Logan.

It’s not like you have never smelt any of these scents before, but they’ve never hit you all at once, and so FRESH. 

They’ve clearly just come back from a job, Wade is still in a torn up suit without his mask on, Logan much the same as he steps next to Wade since he’s still just holding the door open.

“You okay?” Wade asks, worry on his face.

Your mind has stopped working, all you can clearly hear is the blood rushing in your ears. All you can feel is your gut stirring alongside your cock.

Fuck, you are going into a rut. 

Your first unplanned one in about a decade.

FUCK.

“I- I- I’m sorry!” You drop the bag and turn on your heel, booking it down the hallway. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you need to get home and fucking deal with this.

How fucking embarrasing.

—---

You get home and change immediately, only putting on a loose set of pants and a t-shirt. You’ll want the clothes off soon enough, but for now you keep them on as you pace you living room, cursing yourself for being sent into a rut by your fucking crushes. You are too old for that kind of shit. You have more control than that.

Your doorbell rings. You ignore it. 

There’s hard knocks on your door. You ignore it. 

Your door is kicked in, this you can’t ignore, finding yourself on your feet in seconds. 

You growl, feeling your canines grow as the sound spills from your open mouth. Your mouth snaps shut as Wade steps into your apartment. He has changed, he’s now wearing some grey sweatpants, sneakers, and a red hoodie. 

But he clearly hasn’t showered, because he still smells like blood and sex, which is making your head swim. Logan is much the same as he follows just behind Wade, a black flannel instead of a hoodie covering his torso. He closes the door behind them both, leaning back against it, keeping some distance while Wade stands just a few steps away from you.

Omega, beta, omega, beta, protect, fuck, scent. Your rut-brain not very helpfully screams.

“You can’t go running like that and not make us think something is super wrong.” The scent of them both is maddening, and it’s only growing thicker with every second they spend it in your apartment. You swallow, clenching your hands at your sides, ignoring the urge to drag the omega Wade closer.

“Nothing is wrong.” You grit out between clenched teeth.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” Speaking of pants, you are glad you are wearing loose ones, so at least your hard cock isn’t as obvious as it feels. What is obvious however, is the scent of a rut rolling off you in waves. You wonder how Wade hasn’t noticed it yet as he keeps looking at you, for once showing that he can be patient, waiting for you to speak. 

Logan notices though, taking a few deep sniffs, then pushes off the door. Your eyes snap to him, but he doesn’t return the look, grabbing Wade’s shoulder, making him look at Logan too.

“Wade, what is that smell?” He asks Wade, and your face burns. Of course Logan hasn’t actually smelt a rut before, but with his heightened senses he picks up that something has changed. 

“What?” The skin where Wade’s brows should be scrunches up before he takes a few deep breaths.

Then his head whips towards you, a grin spreading over his face and delight filling up his brown and beautiful eyes.

“Someone’s going into ~rut~" Wade almost sings as he keeps grinning. You are breathing heavily, though you stutter as Wade licks his lips, and all your mind supplies you with is how good they would feel on you. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever smelt that on you during the time we’ve known each other.” That had been on purpose, you always stayed away from Wade around your ruts, always able to find some excuse that never made him question it, at least not to your face. “What made that change?” Your eyes flicker between him and Logan, taking in how they are both paying full attention to you. It makes the alpha in you purr in satisfaction, you resist the urge to let the noise out, suppressing the urge to preen under their shared attention. Wade gasps, taking your looks and silence as an answer.

“Logan? Well done peanut, didn’t think you had it in you!” He turns around and squishes Logan’s face in his hands.  The shifting of their attention away from you to just each other almost makes you growl, but instead of a noise out of your mouth, you manage to find a few words.

“Both of you.” Wade’s head whips around again, and he grins.

“Ohhh, greedy little alpha.” This time you let out a growl. If he’s going to be an ass about this, you rather not have him near, even as much as all your instincts are screaming at you to grab them both and show them who the alpha is. Their alpha.

“Just leave.” The words feel wrong leaving your mouth, like ash covering your tongue when all you want to feel is the heat of the men in front of you. 

You blink slowly as Wade invades your personal space, throwing his arms around your neck, but he doesn’t touch anymore of your body. Your mind screams to grab his hips so you can have him fully against you, but the little self control you have left makes your arms stay at your side. His scent is strong this close, you want more of it, so you close your eyes, letting yourself at least have that. His smell is familiar to you, burnt sugar, leather, and gunpowder, all with an undercurrent of omega. Your omega.

He chuckles, fingers treading through the hair on the back of your neck.

“Come on, what would you rather do? Spend the next however many days stuck with just your own hands and a knotting fleshlight for company, or do you rather want two hot sets of hands and two hot bodies on you at all times?” Your eyes open to first look at Wade, then at Logan, who’s still standing a few steps away.

“Two? When did I get dragged into this?” He tilts his head, you see Wade grin in the corner of your eye as you and Logan look at each other.

“Like you haven’t looked and thought about it.” Logan shrugs just as a hand hooks itself under your chin, and your gaze is redirected back to Wade.

“So, what do you say?” You are not going to say anything, but you are definitely going to do something as the little control you had slips through your fingers. 

You grab Wade’s hips and pull him flush against you, swallowing the little noise he lets out as you press your lips against his. They are softer than you thought, if a little bumpier than other people that you’ve kissed before. Not that anyone else matters right now, as the hand in your hair tightens as you deepen the kiss, stealing breaths as your lips move against one another.

Your tongue brushes against his lips, asking for entry, which Wade gladly gives with a little noise you try to chase with your tongue. The inside of his mouth is soft and warm, an untouched part of his skin. Your fingers push his hoodie up just enough to feel the skin on his stomach and hips while your tongue dances with his, making him let out these little gasps you take in greedily.

Wade is the one that breaks the kisses, which you make a sound at that you will forever deny is a whimper, but at least it gives you the opportunity to kiss down the side of his neck instead as your fingers press into Wade’s bare hips.

“Come on peanut, your turn.” You lick over his neck as he speaks, feeling his pulse under your tongue. You see movement in the corner of your eye, which makes you look to the side, mouth still on Wade’s neck as you see Logan step closer.

Everything about him screams alpha to your brain, your mind not all there in the warmth of your rut. The growl starts low in your chest, which makes Logan raise an impressive brow where he now stands next to you and Wade.

“No, bad dog!” Wade slaps your chest, making you stop kissing his neck, directing your attention back to his face. The growl dies in your chest, but you huff at him. “Don’t you fucking start, just smell him.” Wade reaches out and grabs Logan, yanking him close, pressing him against the side of your bodies with just a small grunt of protest from Logan. Your eyes flicker between them, the alpha in you wanting to satisfy your omega, so you move just slightly, just enough that you can push your nose against Logan’s neck while keeping your hold on Wade.

You take a deep breath in, letting Logan’s scent wash over you. He smells like he always does, pine, tobacco, and coffee, but now with a delicious add-on of sweat, blood, Wade, and sex. A noise starts up in your chest again, but this time it’s a purr as you lick over the warm skin under your mouth, drinking in Logan’s scent and taste. He startles as the first touch of your tongue, but tilts his head to the side to give you more access, and a warm hand settles on your hip.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Wade mutters, the purr in your chest just deepens as he lets out a little laugh. “I’ve always called Logan kitty because of his hair, but all along it’s been you that's the kitty.” You lean back from Logan, replacing your mouth on his neck with a hand. You lean in to kiss Wade again, but is stopped by his hand over your mouth. Your purring stops as you look at him with confusion.

“As much as I will let you ravage me anywhere in the future, let's move this to a bed?” You do not like being stopped, but the word future and all its implications you do, so you must concede that the idea of soft sheets under you is a great one. 

So, you do the next logical step, letting go of them both so you can bend down and throw Wade over your shoulder. He yelps in surprise, but relaxes as you grab Logan’s hand and start to walk towards your bedroom.

“Great view from up here.” A hand grabs at your ass, which makes Logan snort behind you, and the alpha part of your brain happy with how you are doing well with your mates.

You throw Wade down on your bed, he settles after a little bounce, not having time to do anything else besides opening his legs as you crawl up onto the bed and settle between them. He grabs your hair and tries to pull you into a kiss, but your mouth descends on his neck instead.

“Oh, yeah, this was worth those many words of build up.” You roll your hips against him, your hard cock sliding deliciously against his quickly hardening one. The smart thing would have been to get both of your clothes off before getting into bed, but all you want is to be pressed close, no time for anything else. 

Wade doesn’t quite seem to agree though, as his hands push at your waistband. Your main focus is on his neck, tongue licking over his textured skin, tasting the slight salt of sweat mixed with Wade’s scent, and the sweet aroma of omega. Your omega.

“Come on honey badger, little help here?” The bed dips next to you, and then there’s a second set of hands pushing at your pants. They slide down easily until they hit the bend of your knees, which you are gently encouraged to lift, one at the time. Your mouth keeps working over Wade’s neck, over what you can reach while he has his hoodie on. You pull on the collar of it, a thought forming of trying to just rip it off him, but the thought is quickly gone as hands push at your chest. You growl, not wanting to take your mouth of Wade for even a second.

You are made to do so however, as you’re yanked back by the collar of your t-shirt, which is then quickly pulled over your head. You snarl at Logan, who just throws your t-shirt to the side and raises an unimpressed brow at you. The alpha in you craves control, so grab his hair and pull him into a kiss.

He’s quick to return it, giving as good as he gets. Slightly chapped lips opening for you so willingly as your tongue presses against his lips, his own tongue meeting yours in a way that makes electricity zip down your spine. You feel your cock leak pre-cum, even though Logan’s hands are only on your shoulders. 

You keep his head still with your grip in his hair, licking into his mouth between deep breaths and scenting the air. Arousal rolls of him, making him smell stronger, and more and more right by the second.

You are just about to twist sound fully and push him onto his back so you can crawl over him, your hands moving to his still clothed chest ready to do so, but you are distracted by a textured hand grasping your cock. 

You break your kiss with Logan, looking down at Wade, who has during your kisses with Logan undressed fully. He’s hairless all over, all lean muscle rippling as he shifts. His legs are splayed open, his hard cock standing at attention, slick leaking slowly from between his thighs. His hand pumps your cock slowly, grinning as both of you look at him, and your mouth fills with drool as you take a few deep breaths to fill your nose with the scent of him too.

“Was starting to feel left out.” You let go of Logan, who immediately starts to unbutton his flannel as you fall back between Wade’s open legs. One of your hands slips down to his cock, giving it a few strokes, mirroring his hand on your cock. His hand not on your cock tugs at your hair, his knees pressing into the side of your hips.

“Hmmm, hey there alpha.” The title runs off Wade’s tongue so easily, it sounds so right, so your purr starts up again as you move your hand from his cock to between his legs where slick leaks out of him. His breath hitches as you slip two fingers into him, the digits sinking in with ease as he tilts his head back, putting his neck on display for you.

You lean in to kiss over it, letting teeth dance over the skin in a tease of a bite. He rocks down onto your hand as you slip a third finger inside, his hand around your cock tightening and making you grunt.

You need to get inside him soon, or this round might be over too quick for anyone's liking.

You pull your fingers out from Wade, turning your head as you hold them out towards Logan, who was just about to pull his pants off. He pauses, glances as Wade, before he looks at you. He then leans forwards as keeps eye contact with you, sliding your fingers into his mouth. He sucks and licks at your digits, tasting Wade on you, making you and Wade groan in unison. You from the tight feeling of his mouth around your fingers which makes you imagine it going elsewhere, Wade from how good Logan looks with his mouth occupied.

“Fucking hell peanut.” Logan grins, pulling off your fingers with an obscene pop. You lean on your elbows over Wade as you watch Logan take his pants off, leaving him fully nude too. He’s a lot hairier and bulkier than Wade, a beautiful contrast. He’s fully hard as well, kneeling next to you and Wade. One of his hands brushes over one of Wade’s legs where it’s pressed against your side. 

You turn your head back towards Wade, leaning down and rubbing your face over his neck and shoulders, purring again. His head shifts, and then there’s the sound of kissing above you. Your purr only stutters with a growl for a second before a solid hand joins Wade’s on your cock, and guides you against Wade’s hole. 

The hands fall away, and with a single thrust you are fully seated inside Wade, balls resting against him. You feel him gush around you as he moans loudly, hand in your hair tightening for a moment before it loosens.

“There you go alpha, come on.” Wade’s hands dance over your back as you lick over his neck. He’s so warm and wet around your cock, so perfect, like he was made for you. For the moment you just grind down against him, pressing him into the bed with your full weight. It traps his cock between the two of you, making him leak all over your stomachs. 

Your grinding doesn’t last for long however, as you pull your hips back so you can start fucking into Wade. Small movements at first, barely moving as you keep your mouth on his neck, sucking hickeys into textured skin that disappear in seconds. It irritates part of you that it won’t stay, but part of you also is happy with the neverending space to make new marks on him. 

Your head swirls with the thought of mate mate mate mate, arousal building with every second, making you speed up, and Wade moans loudly as you do so.

“Yes, yes, alpha” Wade's breath stutters at a particularly hard thrust. “Give me your knot.” You growl in satisfaction, hearing your omega beg while his hands grasps over your back is just how it should be.

“Knot?” Logan’s voice talks over Wade’s little moans and groans, and the wet sound of you filling Wade with your cock over and over again.

“Oh yeah, this is like a new sex ed for you. Rememb- AH, fuck -I told you, alpha’s has knots- shit, shit, shit- makes their dick swell and makes them stuck inside- Inside! Ah! -their partner. It’s an evolut~ion~ thing, to make it really have an opportunity to stick. I- I- I- can’t actually get kids, buT I don’t think that’s go-go-gonna stop our little greeeeeedy alpha here from try-ing!” Hearing Wade struggling to explain to Logan while you fuck him makes you grin against his skin. You shift up to kiss him, to steal his moans and grunts right out of his mouth. He clutches as you, knees pressing hard enough against your side that you are sure you are going to bruise your hips. You keep fucking into him, but push at one leg so he folds it up. Logan pushes at the other leg, making Wade fold in half underneath you. The two of you hold him in place as you pound into him, chasing your orgasm.

Another wet sound joins the cacophony of wonderful sounds in the room, which makes you stop kissing Wade and lean back a little. Wade keeps his eyes closed, and moans loudly and arches his back as soon as his lips are free. You look at Logan, who has the hand not on Wade around his own cock. You slow down your thrusts into Wade ever so minutely, making him whimper and open his eyes, looking at you first, then glancing at Logan. Wade whimpers again as you growl.

“Stop touching.” It’s the first words you’ve said during this whole thing, you don’t know if that is what makes Logan listen, or if it’s the scent of alpha you can feel rolling off you as your hips keep rolling into Wade. You know the scent is strong, especially for someone with his nose.

“Fucking hell, hot as hell, alpha, alpha!” Wade splutters, hole fluttering around your cock.

“Mine.” You growl, shifting so you can lean down and take Logan’s cock into your throat as you keep fucking into Wade. They moan in unison, making your head scream the word mine over and over and over again. Your head swims with arousal, the scent and taste of them pushing you closer and closer with each passing second.

Logan is heavy on your tongue, leaking precum as you swallow around him, tongue stroking over veins as you bob your head up and down.

Wade is moaning below you, clutching and pulling at you, each snap of your hips against him making him leak against his stomach.

Your own cock is leaking inside Wade, your precum mixing beautifully with his slick. You can feel that you’re close, so close. You need your mouth back on Wade, but you also need Logan in it. You groan around him, making your throat vibrate around his cock in your throat. One of your hands moves to grasp at his cock, pumping it as you suckle on his head.

A barely there graze of your teeth on your next suck is what sends him over the edge. His hands are in your hair, but he doesn’t push as you drink him down. 

Swallowing the last remnants of his cum, you shift your focus fully to Wade. Your hands push at his thighs, mouth going to his shoulder. This time it’s not a hickey you make, instead you mark him with your teeth as your canines grow and you bite down hard enough to taste blood. It explodes over your tongue, mixing with the taste of Logan’s cum in your mouth.

“ALPHA!” Wade yells as loudly as he comes all over your stomachs. It makes him tighten around you, and you feel your own orgasm coming. Your teeth let go of his shoulder, but you keep your mouth on him to lick over the quickly healing skin.

Your orgasm hits you hard, cum pumping into Wade with each move of your hips, which soon slows as you feel your knot expand, trapping you and Wade together. 

You catch your breath, panting against Wade’s neck, licking your lips as you take breaths, tasting the scent of sex in the air.

You start purring, rubbing your face against any part of Wade you can reach without jostling the two of you too much. He smells so much of you already, but you can’t help yourself. He lets out a breathless little laugh as he threads a hand through your hair, his other stroking over your back is slow motions.

“Good thing you’re clean shaven, or else I would have some serious beard burns.” You hum, feeling your brain turn a little clearer with every second that passes. You feel another hand join Wade’s on your back, and you look to your side, where Logan is sitting, legs stretched out and leaning on one hand while the other dances lightly over your sweaty skin. 

Mind a little bit more with you, you shift more onto your knees, and with some careful maneuvering, you manage to get you and Wade on your sides, your back pressing against one of Logan’s outstretched legs with Wade’s around your waist. The movement causes you both to let out a little moan, which makes you want to start purring again, but you don’t for the moment.

“How long will this last?” Logan asks from above you, hand moving from you back to your hair as Wade scratches both of his down your back now.

“My knot should go down in half an hour or so.” You lean forward to catch Wade’s lips in a brief kiss. “My ruts tend to last about three days.” You look up at Logan, eye flicking to his lips, which gets the message across. He leans down and places a light kiss on your lips. You can’t help the little content hum that slips out of you. Everyone is satisfied for the moment, and it’s really hard to not start purring again, but some part of you should actually try to talk a little now that you have your non-rut brain back for a little bit. But Wade beats you to it, of course.

“We are going to need to order so much takeaway, I’m guessing you don’t have a rut stash.” His hands knead into your shoulders, wonderful pressure that makes you sigh and close your eyes.

“I don’t, I wasn’t supposed to have another one for a few more months.” You feel your cheeks heat up at the admission, but should you really be embarrassed when this has been the outcome?

“Rut stash?” Another question from above you. Oh yeah, Logan doesn’t know this, though earlier it had sounded like Wade had at least tried to explain some aspects of all of this.

“Well, when one is fucking like rabbits, you use a lot of energy peanut, and that has to come from somewhere. A fuckton of food and water mostly.” Logan’s hand in your hair massages your scalp, between him and Wade’s motions you feel almost ready to fall asleep, so it’s with great effort that you open your eyes. You tilt your head back to look at Logan, licking your lips to gather your thoughts, somehow managing to stay focused even as Wade moves forward just enough to bury his nose against your throat.

“It’s normal to have a stash since ruts tend to be somewhat regular, just like heats, though they can be triggered. For example, an alpha’s omega going into heat.”

“Wade’s not in heat though?” Logan tilts his head and Wade chuckles against your skin.

“Which is why I thought it was you that triggered the rut first, but no, our alpha is just greedy.” Hearing Wade so casually and no longer in the moment referring to you as their alpha makes your heart beat faster, and your cock leak, which in turn makes Wade let out a little satisfied groan as he clenches down on your knot. Which makes you moan again.

“It’s like a feedback loop.” Logan mutters above you, looking down to where you are trapped inside Wade, and will be for a while.

“Better to do it from behind normally, easier to spoon.” Wade says, a little breathlessly as he clenches down on you with purpose, making you growl a warning. He chuckles, booping your nose.

Logan is still looking down at where you are joined, which Wade takes notice of with a grin. So he can’t help but tease.

“Think you could take it? You might need a little more prep but…” Wade lets the words hang in the air, making both you and Logan imagine it. 

Fuck, Logan on back or even on his knees, begging for your cock, begging for your knot? Knowing he would need more effort, more desperation? It makes your cock leak inside Wade, who’s breath hitches as he feels you, and then your breath hitches as you see Logan’s spent cock give a minute little twitch.

“Fuck, my beautiful little perverts.” Wade teases, making you roll your eyes, and Logan snorts out a little laugh.

“Pot calling the kettle.” Logan swats at Wade’s thigh, which makes him move, which in turn makes him clench around you again.

“Careful.” You grunt out, grabbing Logan’s hand. He grins down at you, bringing your hand up to his mouth to kiss it.

“No promises.” He lets go of your hand, you swat at his thigh in return.

“Go get us some water or something since we are stuck here. The two of you are going to be the death of me.” Logan rolls his eyes, but gets up anyway.

“Ohhh, that we can promise, pookie.” Wade grins, clenching around you on purpose again, making you grunt and Logan glance over his shoulder just before leaving the room.

You can hardly wait for whatever happens next.

[somepunaboutspace]

Ding ding ding, Metta redesign again (last time hopefully)

Before you ask, he does have his goofy ass tail ribbon things, I could NOT be bothered-

Extra human ver under cut

This isn't as much as a general redesign as it is a fic-specific design. Himb

[lunarharp]

if i just told you i love you would this world change

[fujii-draws]

OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.

[oceanwithouthermoon]

ive been unhealthily fixated on kubosai for the past few weeks, i just have no idea how to put it into words. kuboyasu aren and saiki kusuo are in love btw

[actual-corpse]

Saw a YT vid with the title, "Fandom Can't Handle Asexuality"

You're right, they can't... Because it doesn't fucking exist to them.

[oversizedclothesdemon]

I am in a trans shitposting group on another platform. Someone posted a meme saying "society when girls dress masculinely: (man smiling) society when boys dress femininely: (man frowning, contrast increased and lighting darkened)" and that already was off-putting because society absolutely does not like it when girls dress masculine, because society doesn't like it when people step out of gender roles *at all*; I looked in the comments to see if anyone had pointed it out--

--And there was this woman who was going to pretty much any comment pointing this out and yelling at them for it, denying trans men's experiences with transmisogyny (and I'm pretty sure misogyny in general) and claiming it was exclusive to trans women only; then claiming that anyone pointing out the issue with those statements were attacking her for being a trans woman and were being transmisogynistic.

She also made two regular comments about how people were attacking her for "voicing her opinion."

The kicker (painful) was

it wasn't even her post !!!

Nobody else but her was instigating anything either she was the one starting shit on other people's comments and being snarky even when the comments were just passive statements and not even directed at the OP it was horrible.

[triglycercule]

no funny little thoughts today. have this instead,,,,,, mtt fighting shshahsgahagsgaa CHOKES ok i lied maybe i DO have funny little thoughts below where the reference is :3

this is SUCH a cool composition shot i had to draw something based off it (ignoring the erm. the flashing,,,,, this game came out like 10 years ago just ignore that)

anyways triglycercule what are your thoughts??? funny you asked triglycercule allow me to illuminate :3 so ive been remembering that one ask from like 3 or 4 months ago where i answered like well i like to consider the trio to just have met one day and then decided oh hey we should like totally explore the multiverse together (my excuse to draw them in any possible situation possible (mtt at an amusement park when) (soon (probably not))) and recently i was like WAIT i could probably like totally find a way for them to meet because just saying they met (is a totally valid use of my creator powers BUT) is uncreative and vague,,,,,

so i was like damn. how COULD i get them to meet 🧐🧐🧐 so i was like ok so dust beats human. done and done. but like bros BOUND to get bored. like if he gets bored from not having the human to kill then he's gonna seek out SOME other form of entertainment. so dust is like ok how about i work on some old ancient machines i made b4 to pass the time and one of these ends up being like a universal traveler thingy. and to his own surprise he actually MANAGES to get it done???? (i totally didnt steal this idea from myself,,,,, whaaat youre saying there's another triglycercule dust that came up with a universe hopper machine??? NO (sorry mania))

and oops instead of staying in dusttale like he intended dust accidentally gets chucked into horrortale (bro just wanted the sense of accomplishment not to thrown into some random world.) and then cue like horror and him meeting and its all tense and confusing and then horror paps comes around and hes like OMG ⁉️TWO BROTHERS ‼️‼️ and then invites dust over for a nice sweet little bowl of human spaghetti. unfortunately for dust the little teleporter device is no longer connected to dusttale's core (because hes not IN dusttale) so he just kinda has to suck it up and deal with it until he can find a portable power source

dust's not trying to get KILLED out here so he asks horror (who sadly cannot push dust into blue snow because paps is very enthusiastic about his appearance) where he can find like batteries or something. and horror makes some off hand comment about like power sources and his eye being in the core and how theres like no power and oh why did dust immediately start listening once horror mentioned his eye,,,,,, dusts not gonna rip horror's eye out (he has no reason 2 if theres a perfectly good 1 @ the core!) so he tells horror what he needs the power source for and then hes like i can help you get food for your buddies if you help me help you. ok? ok

and then they sneak into the core to get the eye and oops dust didnt you learn your lesson last time!! the little teleporter thingy brings them to another world AGAIN (and now horror's PISSED because this wasn't in their little deal) and guess where is is,,,,, you already know its something new. and i guess to make things uncomplicated this is a something new where killer already killed his chara but he hasn't tried to reset the world and kill himself (and therefore attract nightmare) yet (he's getting there!)

not like they think the au is anything other than just a wasteland because there is literally like nobody around but they stumble into killer and it doesn't even take like more than a minute before a fight breaks out (i probably need to think more about what happened and why they started fighting but knowing the trio its BOUND to happen) and lowkey killer is getting his ass beat what the hell??? he has never experienced a fight where he's been on the losing end in a long ass time & mindgames arent working because they keep seeing through his shit??? (because horror and dust somehow even though they barely know each other and horror's pissed @ dust have like craaaazy synergy and coordination & killer hasnt faught them ever before + yk yk inner turmoil at seeing other versions of yourself) so he gets annoyed and pulls out the blaster to end it

dust and horror don't DIE outright (not like they would be able to tank killer's blaster) because killer decided to be like hey these guys are new and cool and interesting. i should keep them around instead of killing them off and see how much i can play around with them :3 so he just blasts them until theyre at like 0.0000000000000001 HP :3333 and then idk thats it 4 now,,,,,, i think this is silly and fun and cool and i can imagine it in my head and OH NO THE VOICES (make a comic) THEYRE GETTING LOUDER (you should draw this) NO WAIT MY MOTIVATION (coooomic would be a perfect medium for this) im sorry inner voices i cant,,,,,,,

[monty-glasses-roxy]

For some reason, this round of meds (same dose and everything as last time) is making me have very violent Realisations and Remembering Things moments. And by that I mean the Thing I Forgot and/or the Realisations show up with a bat and see how hard they can make my brain hit the wall. So anyway.

YOU GUYS REMEMBER SPIKE THE WETFLOOR BOT??? YOU GUYS REMEMBER HER??? THE FIRST FAZBEAR ANIMATRONIC TO BE BORN FROM LOVE INSTEAD OF PAIN??? YOU REMEMBER HER???

CAUSE I JUST DID

[your-lovely-ghost]

Day three of holding everyone’s laundry hostage until my father takes a shower.

The last of my father’s beloved white socks have fallen to the filth. There is little hope, and even less in terms of rest. The battle is ongoing, and it feels often that I am fighting alone. Morale is low; my ally in this conflict, mother, is injured. I long for the days when I can rest. When this war will cease, and all will be clean again. The dishes done, the people bathed, the laundry washed and folded. Alas. We know the struggle will never end.

I am Sisyphus, and my father’s horrid stench and apathy are forever my boulder.

My father is a war profiteer, and I am a hapless young recruit greeting a doomed mission.

Last shower date: December 25th, 2023

[voulezloux]

.

[complicit-rot]

i haven't been this social & talkative in Years someone drag me out back

[letbuckfuck]

.

[orcelito]

So yeah I don't think I'm gonna manage ITNL update tonight. Too tired for writing brain. But I'm gonna keep working at it. Maybe tomorrow, if I'm lucky. If not then, then Monday.

The good news is I have Three days off next week (decadent!) So I'm gonna have more time for. Things.