#again probably because of stress

[galaxywhump]

Welp, it's been almost a month and I'm not sure how to proceed.

I've been in the whump community for over three years, during which I've made both wonderful and bad memories, and recently the latter has started to overshadow the former. I associate a lot of memories with my stories, like what was happening when I posted x chapter, and it's difficult for me to look at my writing and not remember the bad things. Maybe that's the reason why I've also been wondering if continuing my stories is worth it - I haven't given up on them, I'm still really attached to the characters and ideas, but I'm just not sure.

All these doubts and burnout might just be caused by stress as always - I'm still struggling with uni stuff and my mental health - and like I said I have some very fond memories from the community, so I'm not going to make any serious permanent decisions like leaving or abandoning my stories. I just needed to vent, I suppose. And maybe ask for advice.

[buggachat]

Part 178 of my bakery “enemies” au!

baking montage!

First / Prev / Next / All

Kofi

[cupophrogs]

BLUNT NOT THE HEART, ENRAGE IT

Prev || Next

No text :p

[jellydragons]

been watching a lot of hermitcraft recently and am happy to report that i am hopelessly endeared by these little goobers 💕 they’re like bugs to me

close ups under the cut!

gonna be real this was absolutely just me taking the opportunity to get my grubby lil mitts all up in their character designs lol i heart interpreting mc skins

[amelia-yap]

AUEGH

[shentheauthor]

Since Inspekta chews on his tail, it’s probably a habit that carried over from Hector. However, Inspekta’s tail is taped on. It isn’t real. It’s entirely possible he can’t feel it.

And yet he bandages it. He tapes his tail on. He acts like he’s so far above everyone else, and yet he clings to what’s left of his humanity. He doesn’t want to be untouchable, he wants to be loved. He has a warped idea of love, yes, but he knows he’s nothing without the people around him. He just didn’t want to acknowledge it because that’s terrifying.

He doesn’t want to leave the Bizzyboys behind. Not really.

[whump-in-the-closet]

Interrogation

CW: manhandling, creepy whumper, psychological whump, fucked up superhero agency, implied torture, interrogation gone wrong, aftermath of raid

Masterlist

There’s no clear line between waking and not—just a creeping awareness of how wrong everything feels. The tilt of Teddy’s head is off, gravity pulling in strange directions, his body a disjointed puzzle he can’t quite piece together. 

As he regains consciousness, it hits him– all coming back, all at once– and his stomach drops. He shifts, instinctively, but cold restraints bite into his wrists, holding him fast. 

There’s dried blood matted into his hair. His right eye won’t open all the way. Something is wrong. His body, his mind—everything’s breaking apart. 

Then– 

Rufus. 

Bile rises in Teddy’s throat, worry twisting his stomach into knots of red horror. He had closed the teenager into the hiding spot before Savior had gotten in, but did he stay hidden? Was he still safe?  

The door swings open, as if on cue, and a man in a blue-striped shirt steps in, holding a steaming cup of coffee. The smoke peels upwards, vanishing into the white light. 

Teddy swallows. Hard. “Hello.” His voice cracks, his anxiety carrying his voice up an octave. 

The man smiles, lifting his cup in greeting. He takes a sip, then sets it down with a careful, deliberate motion. There’s something very controlled about everything he does. “Good morning.” 

Teddy’s voice doesn’t quite work the way he’d like it to. “It’s morning? How long–” How long have I been here? 

His panic is tangible, physical, very much there in the room between him and the officer, with only the desk between them. 

The man’s blue eyes are deep set and they widen dramatically as he laughs. The man doesn’t miss a beat. “It’s eleven a.m.” 

“Oh.” Fuck. Then. “Where’s– can I ask, sorry, where’s Elias?”

The man folds his hands around his mug. His smile reveals crooked teeth framed by a scratchy, half-grown beard but it seems genuine. “You’re polite, Mr. Wade. I appreciate that.” 

Teddy freezes. “How do you, wait–” he stammers, words coming out in uneven bursts. “How do you know my name?”

The man continues as if there’s been no interruption, but his smile tightens. “I’d like to ask you a question myself.” He lets the words hang in the air for a split second, then says, “Are you harboring a fugitive?” 

Teddy answers on instinct. “No, sir.” Lies on instinct. But his heart jumps into his throat and stays there. 

But he has to bite back a smile. Because that question means Rufus is safe.

Free.

Teddy shifts in his Christmas pajamas, ducking his head to hide the curl of his lips that he can't smooth out. Sure, his shoulders ache, and his blood is crusted in his hair, and the man across the table stares at him with an unreadable intensity.

But the taste of triumph is behind his teeth and he can feel the tension between his shoulders lessen in relief.

"No, sir," Teddy repeats, quieter.

The blue-eyed man leans forward with a quiet sigh. He's blunt, like a hammer, an open palm, a kick to the knees. "Don't lie to me, Mr. Wade. That would make my job rather difficult because I like you."

Teddy blinks rapidly, focusing on the dents on the table, on the dust motes floating through the light, on the dull thudding coming from his chest--anything other than those calculating eyes. "I'm not--" he breaks off, faltering, "I-- I have rights. Can I make my call?"

The man laughs. It's soft. "Do I look like the police to you, Theodore?"

Teddy's gaze flicks up. Shit. "You're..."

"Savior. Or at least, I work for them. No hero stuff though. Just a guy doing his job. So, where's the kid, kiddo?"

Alarm bells go off in Teddy's head. He plays dumb. "Who?" Then, “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

"Oh, Theodore," his voice is conversational like they're discussing the weather. "Here's the thing. I don't believe you. And my friends? They don't believe you either."

Teddy scrambles for anything to say, and the sarcasm slips out before he can stop it. "Sorry, here's the thing, I go by Teddy. Theodore was my dad--"

The slap comes out of nowhere, knocking Teddy's head to the side. The taste of iron fills his mouth and Teddy, briefly, sees an explosion of stars.

He coughs, spitting blood onto the floor. It splatters in dark droplets against the stark white tiles. "You--" Teddy's voice cracks, "You can't do that!"

"Yeah, I kinda can." The man's kind demeanor becomes much more jarring as he slaps Teddy again.

Crack.

Teddy blinks hard, trying to clear the dizziness, and shifts his jaw to test for damage. The copper taste lingers, bitter and metallic.

"I'm not lying!" Teddy manages. "I'm not! I don't have a fugitive, this is ridiculous--"

The man crouches next to him, his face uncomfortably close. He has a tattoo peeping out of his shirt collar. "Do you think I'm stupid, Theodore?"

Teddy squeezes his eyes shut. He shakes his head slowly, his face throbbing with the movement.

He doesn't know what to do.

Their plans never went this far.

He has no idea.

"Don't make me ask my friends for help," the man says. He smells of too much cologne and it makes Teddy's eyes sting. "They won't be as gentle as I've been."

Teddy trembles.

"Hey, it's okay," he murmurs, his hand clamping down on Teddy's shoulder in a mockery of comfort, ignoring how Teddy flinches, breath faltering. “You're not built for this, are you?"

What Teddy wants to say is, I'm a fucking pianist, no. Instead, he says, in a whisper. "Sorry, but I don't know about any runaway."

The man's grip instantly tightens, pinching down.

And Teddy arches his back in pain, "Ah--"

"I never said anything about a runaway, Theodore," he whispers.

Teddy’s breath catches. “Runaway, fugitive—same thing!”

"So we've established you're a liar." The man's hand shifts to the back of Teddy's neck. “Good.”

Teddy squirms but says nothing, the silence broken only by the shallow rasp of his breathing.

"I'm going to get my friend." He pats the back of Teddy's neck and turns to leave.

As he picks up his coffee mug, he flashes Teddy one last smile. Cold. Deliberate. "And welcome to Savior, by the way."

Teddy's eyes widen. "What?"

"Yeah, you think you're leaving now? You lost that privilege when you started lying to me."

"No-- fuck, man, let me go!"

"See you around, kiddo."

Taglist: @rainydaywhump @whump-in-the-night @chaotic-orphan @violets-whumperflies @whump-till-ya-jump

[imagonista]

It's been one year since we saluted goodbye to the Guardian! And by "we" I mean me, because no joke, when she was flying off in the archangel, I gave a salute (I listen to all audios through a third-person perspective).

But still! It's been a freaking year! And, also means it's been a year since MOTH 2: Electric Boogaloo (not the actual name) was hinted at! And now, we have a basic summary of what the plot is going to be, as well as the listeners canon name: Lilith. And thanks to the fact I took a good amount of religion/Judaism classes in college, seeing the name "Lilith" got some cogs in my brain turning.

Honestly, this is probably just me overthinking, and if I'm wrong, then there's no problem. This theory(?) is just for fun! So no need to take it seriously.

Note that I did a little bit of research about Lilith (the religious/mythological figure) for this. And that this theory only regards the creation story aspects of Lilith, nothing about her as a seducer who kills children.

Okay:

So, we know that lamia Lilith was made from the snake titan, as was Nosferatu. In interpretations of the creation story from the Torah/Bible, both Adam and Lilith were created from earth, compared to how Eve was created from Adam. So we already have one parallel: two beings made from the same source.

Another thing about Lilith is that she is the wife of Samuel (Satan). In the creation story, it's believed that Satan takes the form of a snake to trick Eve into eating the apple. This is important, because what is a lamia? A human top with a snake bottom. Also, snake titan. This doesn't have any real importance other than recognizing snakes in mythology.

And finally, looking at what happens regarding Adam and Lilith. In a basic summary, Adam tries to control/command Lilith, but she doesn't obey, and instead, runs/flies away from the Garden of Eden. Though I think at some point, G-d sends some angels to try and bring her back, and then a fight of some sort breaks out between Adam and Lilith. Now, In the MOTH 2 summary we got, we know that it is Nosferatu who commands Lilith to pretend to help Zed escape from him, and the question is: will she continue to betray Zed, or is she going to instead betray Nosferatu? I'm going to assume Lilith will betray Nosferatu, she will try to run away (more like slither away), but something will force her back, and there will be a fight between the two beings made from the snake titan. The outcome? No theory here. In an interpretation I saw, Lilith wins, but religious Lilith doesn't have a smol wizard companion she would need to probably fight for and that could get caught in the crossfire.

I tried looking up if the religious/mythological Lilith has any connection to music, since GBA had hinted that music will play a part in MOTH 2 (the fact we got that hint just based on my silly question about MOTH characters music preferences still blows my mind). In one source, it says that Lilith and Satan created music, but that wouldn't really apply to MOTH 2 because music must already exist in-universe.

But hey, that's just a theory!

An ASMR RP Theory!

[tj-crochets]

So it turns out there's a big craft guild organization thing only a few hours from where I live (I saw an ad for their craft fair), and I got like half my holiday shopping done on their website, and the box arrived today! The thing I was most excited to see in person is fragile, though, and it's really well wrapped in bubble wrap and I don't want it to break when I mail it to the friend it's for, so I am not unwrapping it, but oh man the temptation is there lol I also got myself a little metal bug made of a bottle cap and some wire. It lives on my little corkboard where I put postcards and thank you cards now

[mering]

even the dogs!

[betweenblackberrybranches]

Sorry for being mostly gone atm life things are happening but here have a pretty woman i drew to distract myself

[nocreativityfornames]

Hello I wanted to talk about mc magic in lesson 53 they said this about mc magic.

Mephistopheles: When you intervened to protect Simeon, you cast that spell without any sort of incantation.

Lucifer: If not, then it means that the magic you produced was involuntary.

Diavolo: No. If the spell was involuntary, it means the magic is uncontrolled, you see.

But isn’t this a contradiction to what lucifer taught in season 2 lesson 24 of NB?

Yeah, it's said by both Lucifer and Solomon that if a human/demon is skilled enough, they don't need incantations to use magic.

But I think the way this is different from what happened when MC saved Simeon was that they didn't mean to use magic at all. Like, usually when MC is going to use magic the dialogue options are something along the lines of "use [certain spell]" "do [certain action] with magic" but this time the dialogue options were to either yell out his name or warn him about the attack, meaning that MC's magic manifested itself without any previous intention from them to use it?

Which is similar to what happened in s2, except that this time around their magic acted up on it's own and protected someone instead of causing harm, coming from their worry for Simeon's safety. So MC is unconsciously using magic based off strong emotions they feel and they need to learn to control their powers to avoid causing harm again like in previous seasons.

I guess that the Ring of Light only stabilizes their powers to a point, and MC's magic can still get out of hand if the situation is dire enough?

[bertrei]

The bertholdt hoover fandom is dying rt if youd wipe the sweat from his brow like if youd give him a warm glass of milk

[thegreatyin]

How did you manage to handle not one, but FOUR separate accounts in fl? I recently made the account for my HD little guy but having to do the tutorial again just seems miserable

there's... weirdly several answers to that question, actually??

a HUGE part of it is due to the way FL is structured. the 10-minute action timer is a core part of the game on a fundamental level, and the fact that i can very easily run out of stuff to do on one character and thus have an excuse to quickly and easily swap to another is just... convenient? satisfying? i'm not entirely sure how to explain it. the fact that i can make progress even while i am fundamentally simultaneously Not Making Progress is like pure dopamine for my freak insane awful little brain. there's just something really pleasing about spending all of my actions pursuing The Goal Of The Day™ on one account before casually swapping to another and doing the same without feeling like i'm wasting time or acting to the first account's explicit detriment. the downtime helps! the recharge time helps! the structure really really works!!

i'm technically only actively playing three, maybe two accounts minimum. the only reason the fourth (the one that'll be my future BaL playthrough) currently exists at all is so i can get his earlygame completely out of the way now and not have to waste time running through it all later, when what i actually want to do is play the ambition i've made myself wait a full year to play. and also getting free goodies as seasonal stuff happens,, something something surprise tools to help us later. the only two accounts i'd say i'm really "actively playing" at the moment are caeru and lark- and of the two, lark takes the most priority, since his ambition is the one i'm currently pursuing in earnest. for a couple months now- despite being My Main FL Character- the scoundrel has actually been pretty inactive on a gameplay front outside of the occasional progression in TLC and discordance content. purely by virtue of having Very little left to do outside of Very long-term grinds and vanities. they're in their "now what?" "now you can start playing the game" era. they've graduated to previous protagonist background cameo in a sequel anime series. they're like the yin FLPC equivalent of red at the top of mount silver. they're Literally just vibing rn. i only keep posting about them regardless because i'm insane and i will never ever ever ever ever let that bat go. but yeah, big TLDR, outside of doing the bare minimum to keep making waves/notability up every week, i'm not actually spending that much time on accounts i'm not currently actively interested in playing. and that accounts for way more gaming spoons than you might think.

i have a virtually lifelong history of playing MMOs, especially and specifically world of warcraft. i was born in the endless grind for useless video game pixel vanities and/or bragging rights. molded by it. you all have merely adapted to doing the same piece of content a pointlessly excessive amount of times for literally no reason besides whimsy and folly. me? i've done my time. i've served my sentence. i've spent weeks doing the original burning crusade netherwing dailies. i've devoted days to running praetorium over and over and over again, back-to-back, nonstop, long before square enix cut it in half and made it NOT take at minimum an hour and a half per run. i've perfected my silverwastes + auric basin goldfarming strategies. i've (almost) crafted dragonwrath tarecgosa's rest. i've killed the sha of anger so many times its dying scream of agony is embedded into the very fabric of my being. ""only"" doing making your name content four times over? that is nothing to me. it means nothing to me. it is so infinitesimal i can do the persuasive seduction quests in my sleep. it's not a matter of handling misery, or having the capacity, or even sighing as i remember the brass embassy raid segment of the watchful questline seriously i don't know why i keep forgetting that exists or what even is my problem with it i just am so consistently mildly inconvenienced by it and its highly specific resource requirements and it is the worst thing ever. maybe i'm just so used to the scoundrel's near-infinite money and troves of disposable items that i've completely forgotten what being poor is like. despite having done that step 3 fucking times now. ahem. anyway. i have transcended the feeble mortal bindings of my resistant-to-grinding flesh and ascended to a higher plane of enlightenment, they may call me insane but they will be the ones left laughing when they see what that "insanity" has wrought, i've usurped them, i've usurped them all-

hacks and coughs and awkwardly clears my throat. i mean. uh. um. Ahem.

the empress' court artistry + tales of the university nerfs helped too.

[independent-fics]

Realizing in “The First David Job” Hardison told Nate he was “halfway home.” He really did like the little family they built. And my heart hurts for him because then he had to blow it up.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Just once, I would like to be able to have a conversation about my feelings with someone where they don't, at some point, start trying to explain to me why something happened such that they are either implying or outright stating I should stop having noticeable feelings at them about a thing and/or telling me that I'm wrong about how I feel and actually if I just understood this thing I would see that I'm being unreasonable to say I feel the way I do.

Just once, for someone's response to be "it sounds like you're feeling [insert thing, e.g hurt, sad, scared, tired, angry, etc], I'm sad that you are dealing with that." Not to take responsibility for my feelings! But for them to acknowledge that they're happening and might matter to me before they move on to whatever the fuck next thing they have to say is