#gotta start the piggy bank now!

[lunar-years]

I think the 1989 cardigan is ugly god bless 🙏🙏

[batshitferalejsimp]

can i ask for jtk short scenario prompts or general headcanons

(OF COURSE YOU CAN!!!1!! I love requests! \o/)

Jeff the Killer General Headcanons!!

(Well well well, it's time to talk about everyone's favorite crashout)

Minors DNI !!

Now to start I 100% subscribe to angry problematic emo boy Jeff the killer. he's tall, hes thin and he's a little bit of a bitch

Honestly I think he'd be around 6ft1 and rail thin while somehow eating way more than he should, like ribs still showing after eating 15 cheeseburgers a day for a month(with sides).

He's surprisingly strong for his size, not like impossibly so, but enough to take someone off guard, which adds to how hard it is to predict what the fuck he will do in any given fight

His voice isn't especially deep and it's VERY raspy hoarse, like he just spent an hour screaming before he talked to you, it's just like that all the time.

Jeff is the number 1 asshole in any situation, like going out of his way to make sure everyone is having a worse time than him, He'll go easy on you if he likes you(romantically or not), but your not escaping his pranks, he just won't try to hurt you.

He is always fighting someone, or recovering from getting his ass beat. Honestly though, he doesn't hold grudges from fights unless he already hates you, its like fighting people is the only thing that keeps this skeletal asshat alive alive. He's the kind of guy to go to a bar just to get into a bar fight. He is gonna be laughing even if he's got broken bones and he lost.

He somehow has short man syndrome even though he's tall??? blame EJ or something

He gets a sick satisfaction whenever someone is shorter than him, makes him less likely to pick a fight with you though, unless your beefier than him, then it doesn't matter

He gets all his pocket money by stealing from the houses of his victims, going as far as to break open piggy banks. He knows this one pawn shop owner that won't ask questions or narc on him

Jeff like's to gift people the stuff he stole, especially if he REALLY likes you ;)

He uses Reddit and 4chan.

On Reddit he's your garden variety troll, saying whatever will piss people off (he doesn't believe half the bullshit he spews, but it's VILE)

on 4chan, he BRAGS and shows pictures of him with dead bodies, animals. He also posts to a board about Knives, and there he's creepy, but no one connects the dots and just thinks he's a poser

He listens to almost exclusively problematic/fucked up artists (luckily he's emo so he don't gotta look too hard)

being called "Jeff the Killer" makes him geniunely giddy, and if you wanna be friends(or more) the fastest way to do that is to use the title every time you talk to him

he knows how to pickpocket, lockpick and hotwire and will use that information for evil(stealing and crashing cars)(also like... the murder)

He believes he can't get addicted to anything so he's done most of the well known drugs and gone into withdrawal several times(it pisses EJ off)

He likes to game, but has horrible gamer rage

He believes in equal rights equal fights(and no you can't convince him how it's wrong)

He is surprisingly thoughtful when he likes you(except for when he isnt), like he will not go too far(atleast for you), and if he does he almost always apologizes. And as for gifts, he does what he can and ALWAYS remembers birthdays(A reason to go have fun)

As he's grown, he's somehow become less of a loner and more social(not to say he has any social grace, but he has fun around people)

He will kill for the people he likes, and it would be flattering, if he didn't get off on it

EXTRA!!!

It was a foggy night as Jeff dragged you through the streets, laughing his ass off you stumbled trying to keep up with him. He seemed especially excited tonight, having climbed through your window to wake you up, barely letting you get dressed before shoving you out the door and dragging you out onto the streets. "Come ooooOOOOoon, hurry up." Jeff whined as if he was trying to be annoying, which he probably was knowing him.

"where the hell are we even going?" You asked for the umpteenth time, not expecting an answer. "Not telling, but trust me, you'll love it." Jeff replied excitedly. "This is the last turn anyway" It was only a few minutes of that same song and dance before you found yourself in front of a VERY big house, in a VERY affluent neighborhood. It was a comically expensive home, which made you nervous to see the opened door and cameras as he shoved you through the door. "Jeff! What the hell!? You're gonna get me arrested!" You protested, trying to fight against him as he covered your mouth.

"RelaaAAAaax, I cut the cords to the cameras days ago." Jeff teased, shoving you into the house before shutting the door behind him. "Now come on! This place is fucking awesome, there's a pool and you can steal whatever you want."

As you stared up at him from the floor, mouth agape, he grinned.

"Aren't I the greatest?" Jeff paused for a moment, "Avoid the 2nd floor bathrooms though, I forgot which one I put the bodies in."

[witherby]

do you think that the kids would have different conflicts with Bruce than in canon due to the fact that Bruce is their vaguely odd funder/stepdad? I think there's gotta be at least one of them who tries to reject the money because they don't want to get used to something that's unstable? Maybe because they're paranoid about how this affects Hal? OR just because they haven't warmed up to him? so manys possibilities.... amazing

--🎆

Shit y'know I have single dad Hal a passing thought and now I'm starting to take it seriously. Unfortunately I'm in love with the concept. The possibilities are so plentiful. What are you people doing to me

Tim's taking advantage of that shit immediately. Hell yeah let me upgrade this, that, and the other thing. He's loading up.

Damian wants to go crazy with pets, but Hal limits him to three to start, so he's got Titus, Alfred the cat, and a guinea pig because guinea pigs are SO FUCKING CUTE AHHH —

Dick and Jason are the most Sceptical. Who is this man. Why does he have so much money. Why is he so willing to blow so much of it on kids that aren't his. What's his end game. Dick keeps his job but goes down to part time, because he really really does wanna use that private gym.

Jason doesn't change his behaviors at all. Any little bit of extra cash he gets ahold of, he's saving it up and stashing it somewhere like old people that don't trust the bank. He's storing thousands upon thousands of dollars in jars and piggy banks and secret savings accounts just in case this shit blows up in their faces and they need the money. He doesn't trust Bruce at all.

[the-himawari]

A3! Usui Masumi - Translation [R] A New Use for a Crown (1/2)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Izumi: Thanks for helping me organize the props.

Masumi: I’d be happy to help with this much anytime.

Izumi: Fufu. You can also rely on me anytime you’re in a pinch then, alright?

Masumi: I will.

Izumi: Man, it always ends up like this when I go to help out different theatre troupes. I take props that I think we can use back with me. Or I ask them to give me other items that they aren’t using anymore… And because I do that, the storage room becomes a mess before I know it.

Masumi: If this happens again, just call me. You looked tired today, so don’t push yourself.

Izumi: Thanks, Masumi-kun.

-pause-

Izumi: …There. I suppose most of it is tidied up now.

*thump*

Izumi: Hm? Did something fall off the shelf?

Masumi: …Is that a crown and cape? We had stuff like that?

Izumi: Ah, those! That crown and cape were also given to me. Hisoka-san and Azami-kun thought they were a great help for their role study when they participated in the stage at the giant chess facility.

Masumi: Did they wear them?

Izumi: Hisoka-san fluttered his cape, and Azami-kun got Sakyo-san to call him Lord Azami… When Sakyo-san forgot call him that, he had to pay a penalty fee.

Masumi: I see…

Izumi: The fee might’ve been a bit over the top. But I think it worked out since they were using it as funds for a specific purpose they had in mind.

Masumi: … Lord Masumi… no, that sounds off.

Izumi: Masumi-kun?

Masumi: Don’t worry about it. Can I borrow this crown for a bit?

Izumi: Sure, go ahead. I don’t think I heard anything about you playing the role of a king though…?

Masumi: It’s not for role study.

Izumi: ?

-pause-

Izumi: Alrighty. I guess that about does it for the admin work.

Azami: Ah, Director. Good job.

Izumi: Azami-kun. What’s up?

Azami: If you don’t mind, go ahead and use these.

Izumi: Are these those face masks that have been all the rage lately! Can I really have them?

Azami: I heard you were cleanin’ up the storage room yesterday and working on paperwork ‘til late. It’s beginnin’ to show on your face.

Izumi: Wait, seriously!? I was trying to be mindful about my skincare though…

Azami: I know you gotta lot to do, but don’t push yourself too hard.

Izumi: Right. Thanks, Azami-kun.

*door opens*

Masumi: …

Izumi: M-Masumi-kun!? That crown…

Azami: …Woah, it’s the one I used in my role study. Why’re you wearin’ that?

Masumi: Director. Starting today, can you call me "prince" for a week?

Izumi: Huh…?

Azami: That’s way to sudden, dude. Are you also preparin’ for a role of a king?

Izumi: Oh yeah. Yesterday, you said you wanted to borrow that even though it wasn’t for role study.

Azami: Then why the heck…

Masumi: Also, this is the consequence if you call me by my name.

Izumi: That has... “100 yen piggy bank” written on it.

Masumi: Honestly. I didn’t want to resort to this… But there’s something that I want to do no matter what.

Izumi: Something you want to do?

Masumi: It’s still a secret.

Azami: It must be somethin’ super important if Masumi-san’s imposing a penalty on Director.

Izumi: (I don’t really know what’s going on, but it looks like there’s a reason for it.) Sure, I got it. Errm… I’ll cooperate with you, prince.

Masumi: Thanks.

---

| next

[mollyjeanne615]

Write a song for the “if I fail you scene” but from lex’s perspective and what she’s been saying to Tom

I am having SO MUCH FUN with this

So this would actually be in the show and segue right from this into "If I Fail You." A fun thing with stuff from Hatchetfield is that you can pull from the many motifs that are already established in the show - so there's a bit of "Wiggle" and "Black Friday" in this one and it's very cool. Keep submitting these for sure!

The Hope/The Lie

LEX: Mr. Houston!

TOM: Leave me alone.

LEX: Mr. Houston, turn around!

He turns around.  She’s pointing a gun at him.

LEX:

What do you think you’re doing

TOM: Lex, put down the gun.

LEX: 

You’re gonna run away

TOM: Are you gonna shoot me?

LEX:

The toy you’ve been pursuing

TOM: Or can I go home?

LEX:

Was never gonna be The thing that saves the day You’ve gotta come with me now

TOM: I’ve had a shitty day, you know.

LEX:

But just put down the doll

TOM: I don’t appreciate the gun in my face.

LEX:

The thing that you can’t see now

TOM: I’m taking this doll to my son.

LEX:

Your son, he didn’t want

That fucking thing at all

TOM: Of course he does.  He wants it more than anything.

LEX: No, think about it.  Did Tim ever say he wants a Tickle-Me-Wiggly?

TOM: (after a beat) Well, he must have!

LEX:

I’ve worked at that store since I was sixteen I know what kids are like

TOM: At Pizza Pete’s - he…

LEX:

No one’s called about that doll, no one’s walked up to my desk They don’t want that thing They’re into Fortnite

When you stood in the line outside the toy store Did you see any kids?

TOM: It’s a school day.

LEX: It’s Thanksgiving break.

It’s not kids here in the lines, it’s not kids killing each other Or breaking piggy banks for eBay bids

I know your wife died And you want to make it up to your son I know you’re miserable You don’t think you will ever see the sun  But that’s your problem, not his You think there’s a way to fix that But I don’t think there is

You think Wiggly can fix the holes in your life.  But he can’t - it’s a trick.  He promises to fix all the holes, and that’s why it works on adults.  You need more things and you need them harder.

You can’t afford the mortgage Your marriage falls apart You think your kids will hate you And that just breaks your heart You think your life is over Cause you’re, what, forty-three? I’m gonna be an actress That’s where I find the hope for me

This is not what you lived for This is starting a world war But you still have time to fix it if you try Hey, that would really be beautiful But if you don’t, it’s your funeral Do you really think that Wiggly’s not a lie

[cursed-elo-images]

INCORRECT ELO QUOTES PART 4

This version contains three quotes featuring Mr. Blue Sky and Mr. Night because I have no idea what I’m doing with my life anymore!!!

p.s.: I should make it clear that these incorrect quote posts are not going to contain an equal amount of quotes as I cannot count that many of them as it’s too time consuming, but I do try to have a good amount of them in a post and that each post has roughly a similar amount of them.

*Melvyn sends more than 5 messages in a row*

Jeff: I ain’t reading all that.

Jeff: I’m happy for you tho.

Jeff: Or sorry that happened.

Jeff: So Mel, how did your first time cooking dinner go?

Melvyn: Pretty good if I do say so myself.

Jeff: Oo! Okay, what are we having?

Melvyn: Alright, so for appetizers, we have a potato.

Jeff: A whole potato?

Melvyn: Yes. And then for the main course, we have grilled cheese sandwiches!

Jeff: These just look like big slabs of black.

Melvyn: Because that's what they are!

Melvyn: And then for dessert, we have chocolate.

Jeff: These are just chocolate chips?

Melvyn: They sure are!

Melvyn: And then for drinks, we have toast!

Melvyn: *lifts up a glass of blended toast* Bon appetit!

Jeff: Bev...

Bev: Oh no, 'Bev' in B flat.

Bev: You're disappointed.

Bev: Jeff, what are you doing?

Jeff: *shaking a cat shaped piggy bank* I’m just trying to figure out how much change I have inside.

Bev: You could always take it out and count it.

Jeff: Where’s the fun in that?

Bev: If there are no questions, we’ll move on to the next chapter.

Jeff: I have a question.

Bev: Certainly, Jeff. What is it?

Jeff: What’s the point of human existence?

Bev: I meant any questions about the subject at hand.

Jeff: Oh.

Jeff: Frankly, I’d like to have the issue resolved before I expend any more energy on this.

Hugh: Uptown Funk would've made it into the Shrek Soundtrack.

Bev: That's the truest statement I've ever heard.

Jeff, on the phone: I better go…kay, call me later… byeeee!

Bev: Friend of Yours?

Jeff: Nope, wrong number.

Bev: ???

Bev: Caffeine no longer keeps me awake while I work, so instead I have Jeff periodically send me texts saying ‘we need to talk.’

Bev: It gives me the right amount of adrenaline and fear I need to keep going.

Jeff: Hugh, I need some advice.

Hugh: You need advice from ME?

Jeff: Yeah, frightening, isn't it?

Bev: Two wrongs don’t make a right.

Hugh: *sighs* That’s true…

Hugh: But two negatives make a positive!!!

Jeff: I wouldn’t put it in those words exactly.

Bev: Why not?

Jeff: Because I don't know what they mean.

Bev: I made tea.

Jeff: I don't want tea.

Bev: I didn't make you tea. This is my tea.

Jeff: Then why did you tell me?

Bev: It's a conversation starter.

Jeff: It's a horrible conversation starter.

Bev: Oh, is it? We're conversing. Checkmate.

Jeff: Hugh, no.

Hugh: Hugh, yes.

Mr. Blue Sky, Hugh & Jeff: *screaming*

Mr. Night: *runs into the room* What's wrong, Jeff?!

Mr. Blue Sky: Wait, why are you asking Jeff that when Hugh and I are also here?

Mr. Night: Because Jeff wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.

Mr. Blue Sky: Shh, here comes Mr Night!

Jeff: Quick, Hugh, start talking about boring nerd stuff!

Hugh: You know, nerd culture is mainstream now, so when you use the word “nerd” derogatorily, it means you’re the one that’s out of the zeitgeist.

Jeff: Yes, that’s perfect. Just like that.

Hugh: Where is Mr. Night?

Jeff: I'll do you one better, who is Mr. Night??

Mr. Blue Sky: Here's a better question, why is Mr. Night?

Bev: So you're looking for information on this thing, huh? Well, I feel like it must be from far away.

Richard: What makes you say that?

Bev: If it's something even I don't know about, then I'm sure nobody else must have a clue. So it's gotta be from some faraway place. Impeccable reasoning, isn't it?

Richard: Bev... You don't have a clue about this thing, do you?

Bev: *screams in anger*

Richard: What's that?

Bev: Chocolate.

Richard: What's chocolate?

Bev: Candy. Do they not have candy where you're from?

Richard: Yeah. Grapes, nuts.

Bev: No wonder you're so bitter.

Bev: Richard is not a morning person. Or a night person. There’s really only about seven minutes a day you are fun to be around.

Richard : The best part is you never know when I’m coming.

Richard: Well Bev, I have to say, I'm really disappointed.

Bev: Well, you didn't HAVE to say it. You could've just thought it.

Richard, to Bev: Well, one of us has to be wrong and it’s not going to be me.

Bev: Are you busy?

Richard: Yes.

Bev: Cool, listen to this...

Bev: Just so everyone knows, don't ever try to climb a tree at night carrying a strobe light, owls DON'T like it.

Richard: ...what happened?

Bev: I made a VERY bad mistake.

Bev: *walks to cabinet, removes oreo box, takes half a sleeve, throws empty box out* Hi!

Richard: Hey- what are you doing-?

Bev, shoving an oreo into his mouth: I am saving space :D

Bev: Oh, hey, I didn’t see you come in! You should have come by and said hello!

Richard: Oh! Yeah, I uh...

Richard: Didn’t want to bother you.

Richard: Or talk to or listen to or be around you.

Bev: Man, it smells like wrongdog out here.

Richard:

Richard: Bev, are you alright?

Bev: *sobs*

Richard: Can we talk? One 10 to another?

Bev: I’m an 11, but continue.

Richard: Where did you get that tomato soup?

Bev: It’s actually a bowl of ketchup I just microwaved.

Richard, answering the phone: Hello?

Bev: It’s Bev.

Richard: What did he do this time?

Bev: No, it’s me, Bev. It’s actually me.

Richard: What did you do this time?

Richard: You believe me?

Bev: Richard, you’re the last good person on this planet. I‘d believe cartoon birds braided your hair this morning.

Bev: Any tips on how to make someone like me?

Richard: Try to make them laugh all the time.

Bev: Oh, wow! You actually help me for once, and it's even good advice!

Richard: Yeah, the more they laugh, the more time they spend with their eyes closed, so it'd be easier.

Bev: I literally cannot believe I let you talk me into this.

Richard: I literally said “I have an idea,” and you just went along with it without question.

Bev: Who's in charge here?

Richard, shrugging: Usually whoever yells the loudest.

Richard: Whatever happened to the concept of less is more?

Bev: But if less is more, then just think of how much more 'more' will be!

Bev: Come to think of it… You’ve always been nice to me.

Bev: I mean, you listen to all my problems-

Richard: No, Bev I just simply stand here while you talk, there’s a big difference.

Bev: I made this friendship bracelet for you.

Richard: You know, I’m not really a jewelry person.

Bev: You don’t have to wear…

Richard: No, I’m gonna wear it forever. Back off.

Bev: This is getting embarrassing.

Richard: Getting? We’re already there!

Bev: So uh, for this party and everything, do you, uh...

Richard, sighing: You don't know how to dress for this, do you?

Bev, panicked: WHAT IS CLOTHES???

Bev: I taught my dog, Pongo, a new trick. *throws ball* Fetch!

Pongo: *just stands there*

Richard: He didn’t do it.

Bev: I taught him to ignore social conventions and think for himself.

Bev: COMPANY IS COMING! I WANT THIS PLACE LOOKING LIKE DISNEY ON ICE IN ONE MINUTE!

Bev: RICHARD IF YOU HAVEN'T MADE YOUR BED THROW IT AWAY IT'S TOO LATE TO MAKE IT NOW!

Bev: GET RID OF THE COUCHES, WE CAN'T LET PEOPLE KNOW WE S I T !

Richard: Wow, it sure smells like wrong dog in here!

Bev: Oh buddy...

Richard, already sobbing: ASK.

Richard: Hi, I'm Bev's emergency contact.

Counter Woman: You're here to pick him up?

Richard: I'm here to remove myself as his emergency contact.

Richard: Can I have some?

Bev, mouth full of cheesecake: It's really spicy, you wouldn't like it.

Richard, to Bev: Well, one of us has to be wrong and it’s not going to be me.

Richard: I don’t even have time to tell you how wrong you are.

Bev: Okay?

Richard: …

Richard: …

Richard: Actually it’s gonna bug me if I don’t, so—

Bev: Let's all agree that going up the stairs on all fours is actually the best experience on earth.

Richard: Conversely, going down the stairs on all fours is actually the most terrifying experience on earth.

Hugh: I will beat all of you in Rock, Paper, Scissors. You go first.

Richard: Rock.

Hugh: Paper.

Hugh: *Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere*

Richard: Where did you get that?

Hugh: My pocket.

Richard: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket?

Hugh: Skills.

Hugh: .. .----. -- / … --- .-. .-. -.-- (translation: I'M SORRY)

Richard: What's that?

Hugh: Remorse code.

Richard: I'm even angrier now.

Hugh: Why are we friends?

Richard: Poor decisions on your part.

Hugh, acting tough: You guys don't want to mess with me.

Richard: Yeah, Hugh will straight up cry in public. Don't try him.

Hugh: Exactly, I will straight up-

Hugh:

Hugh, tearing up: Richard, why would you say that?!

Richard: Hey, what’s the name of the guy who lives down the hall?

Hugh: His cats' names are Walter and Rose.

Richard: That's not what I asked.

Hugh: That is all the information I have.

Hugh: Go big or go home!

Richard: Please, for once in your life just go home. I'm begging you. Go. Home.

Hugh: I'm going big!

Hugh: Are you busy?

Richard: No.

Hugh: Want to do something?

Richard: Why would you try to ruin this for me?

Hugh: The Ocean is a soup.

Richard:

Richard: Do elaborate.

Hugh: What are needed for something to be a soup?

Richard: Erm... Water, salt, some form of vegetation, and personally I prefer some meat in mine.

Hugh: *Tilts head*

Richard: The Ocean is a Soup.

Hugh: The Ocean is a Soup.

Hugh: *walking around disappointed after visiting an aquarium*

Richard: Hugh, what did you think a tiger shark was?

Hugh: So, I've been thinking Richard-

Richard: That's dangerous.

Hugh, T-posing in the doorway: Greetings, Richard.

Richard, not looking up from his coffee: Good morning, problem child.

Hugh: I regret nothing!!!

Richard: I regret everything!!!

Hugh: It’s quick, it’s easy, and it’s free: pouring river water in your socks!

Richard: Why would I do that?

Hugh: It’s quick, it’s easy, and it’s free!

Richard: I called you like ten times! Why didn’t you pick up?

Hugh: *remembers dancing to the ringtone*

Hugh: I didn’t hear it.

Richard, throwing a pokeball at Hugh: Hugh, I choose you!

Hugh, not looking up from their book and catching it: You need an Ultra ball to catch this Legendary Pokémon.

Hugh: Advice of the day kids, if you ever meet someone who calls Gatorade flavors the actual name of the flavor instead of just the color then they are a certified nerd.

Richard: Yeah but you have to specify, frost glacier or cool blue? You can’t just say blue because there’s more than one blue.

Hugh: Blue and light blue, nice try nerd.

Hugh: And if you have any suggestions, please put them in the suggestion box.

Richard: That’s a trash can.

Richard: Just say when.

Melvyn: When.

Richard: I-

Richard: Now or later?

Melvyn: Oh.

Melvyn: *is visibly upset*

Richard: Melvyn, what happened? I haven't seen you like this since you found out candyland wasn't an actual country.

Melvyn: Hey.

Richard: Hey?

Melvyn: I can't sleep. :/

Richard: I can. Goodnight.

Richard: Melvyn, say aluminum again. It's the entire source of my serotonin during these trying times.

Melvyn: *sigh* Only for you, buddy. Alyoouminnieeum.

Richard: We need a plan to beat them.

Melvyn: Okay, listen up. First, we fill their shoes with wet cat food.

Richard:

Melvyn: Judge me all you want, I get results.

Melvyn: I just got the best idea I've ever had in my entire life!

*Later*

Richard, to Melvyn: That was the worst idea you’ve ever had in your entire life.

Richard: *trying to get five seconds of sleep*

Melvyn, poking Richard’s arm: Richard Richard. Richard. Richard.

Richard: WHAT?

Melvyn: …We’re out of Capri Suns—

Melvyn: Everything’s fine, Richard.

Richard: Melvyn, I know your relationship with the english language is strictly casual, but you- I- *deep inhale* ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU WHAT’S NOT FINE.

Melvyn: I’m not being weird. Am I being weird?

Richard: Yes, and that’s coming from me.

Melvyn: You might not know this, Richard, but I am a flawed person.

Richard: I do know that.

Richard: State your name, rank, and intention.

Melvyn: Melvyn, Melvyn, fun.

Richard: *Turns on the kitchen light*

Melvyn: *Sitting at the table, eating bread*

Richard: It’s four in the morning.

Melvyn: Turn the light back off.

Richard: Am I right, Jeff?

Jeff: I’m almost certain you’re not, but to be fair, I wasn’t listening.

Richard: I ran into Jeff in the kitchen at 1 AM last night and when I asked him what he was doing, he just shrugged, said “these are my roaming hours,” and wandered off, strumming vaguely on his guitar.

Jeff: Don’t be sad!

Richard: Why not?

Jeff:

Jeff: I don’t have a good answer.

Richard: What’s the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?

Jeff: “Stalagmite” has an “m” in it.

Richard: Everyone knows that Santa is an invention designed by the big five corporations to sell tinsel and video games to an unsuspecting public.

Jeff: The whole “childhood wonder” stage just blew right past you, didn’t it?

[here2bbtstrash]

i've been trying to write but i've had the worst writer's block for literally 3 years now. if you experience it, how do you overcome it?

hi anon! i'm so sorry you're struggling with this, especially for so long 😔 i know how demoralizing it can feel to feel 'stuck', or unhappy with anything you manage to get out. i can't promise that i have all the answers, but here are some different strategies that often help me!

fill the well

i think i stole this term from 'the artist's way' but i can't actually remember if her definition is the same as mine, so. when eye say filling the well, what i mean is: i take a purposeful break from attempting to create content, and i consume. i eat eat eat whatever i can get my hands on. poetry, books, music, movies. i go to an art museum, or go see a live performance of something, if i can!

i find that getting myself out of my own head and fully invested in someone else's creations tends to get my wheels turning. and it's therapeutic, that feeling of discovering some piece of art that speaks to you and reminds you that you're a human. it helps reconnect me to the purpose of why i create, the way i strive to give someone else that same experience by writing stories that i hope people can see themselves reflected back in. seriously - consume stuff! NEW stuff! go out there and find a thing that you love that someone else created.

box yourself in

this is a strategy i had never really tried before until last year, when i was struggling with wicked "i hate everything i write" syndrome, and the love of my life @gimmethatagustd gave me this tip! it's so weird, but it worked for me, so maybe it'll work for you too! they said that as someone who had to write a lot for school, even when they were blocked as fuck, that sometimes they would assign themselves specific rules or prompts for a piece in order to switch things up~

maybe for you, this looks like churning out a few drabbles, and forcing yourself to make them EXACTLY 100 words long. maybe it's writing something only in dialogue (a thing i actually did once when super blocked lmao!). maybe it's trying a new genre, maybe it's trying to write ~in the style~ of someone else, maybe it's writing member POV if that's not something you normally do. maybe it's looking up specific writing prompts/challenges, or playing some weird game with yourself where you try to fit song lyrics into a piece, or make each new sentence start with the last letter of the sentence before it - i don't know! get crazy with it! don't ask me why, but sometimes giving yourself more rules to adhere to makes it easier to write - or just gives your brain something else to focus on, at least 🤪

show up anyway

i hate that sometimes, this is what works, but it's the truth. stephen king has said a lot of things (including many racial slurs lol 🥴) but one of the not-dumb things he's said is along the lines of: "don't wait for the muse. ...your job is to make sure the muse knows where you're going to be every day from nine 'til noon. or seven 'til three. if he does know, i assure you that sooner or later he'll start showing up."

sometimes, writing is showing up, putting down crap, hating it, and doing it anyway. (this might go along with #2 - maybe your drabbles suck! write them anyway!) turning on the tap and running it until all the junk in your pipes gets out and the water runs clear. it sucks! when i'm in a place where that's all i can do, it's the worst feeling in the world! but there have been times where i've found that my "writer's block" was just me wanting things to come easily, like they do in a moment of fresh inspiration. and sometimes, you don't have inspiration. sometimes, you don't even have motivation. you gotta be disciplined and just do it anyway, and just keep shaking your brain like a piggy bank until something good eventually comes out of it.

rest. but like, actually rest

"but m! you just told us to push through and do it anyway!" okay, yeah, well. sometimes that works, but also, brains suck, and sometimes it doesn't work. if none of the above strategies have worked, or i'm stressing myself out so much that i'm like, actively bursting into tears over writing, that's when i know i need to rest.

there's this idea that i actually use a LOT in life - and not even exclusively about writing. when i have a friend who is struggling to get something done, and i ask them "did you rest?" and they tell me they did, i like to fire back: "did you actually rest, or did you spend the entire time feeling guilty about how you weren't doing X thing?"

guilt, as it turns out, is not rest. thinking about how much you wish you were writing is not rest. worrying about how you'll never be able to write anything good ever again... is also not rest! when i know i'm burnt out, i give myself a timeframe - it can be anywhere from 48 hours to several weeks, depending on severity - and i make a promise to myself: for that time, it is ILLEGAL to think about writing, to feel bad about writing, to want to write, or to even so much as TOUCH a word processor. AGAINST THE LAW, YOU HEAR ME?

i force myself to do anything else. if i feel like being creative, i'll pursue non-writing avenues to do so. but if i don't? i'll do fuck all. i'll watch a season of a terrible reality show. i'll take naps on my couch. i'll eat ice cream or do a puzzle or read a book or learn a language or whatever else. but i don't touch my writing, i don't think about my writing and i do not feel bad about my writing, or lack thereof.

usually, by the time my sentence in anti-writing jail is up (the only kind of prison i believe in lmao ✌️) my energy levels feel restored, my outlook is more positive, and i'm chomping at the bit to get back to it, with a renewed sense of appreciation for my work and my ideas. sometimes you just need to take a break, a real break, and that's okay!

accept it

sort of a continuation of my last one - and i know this sounds kinda dire, but i'm saying this with only love: not every season can be a season of harvest. there are some seasons where the ground is frozen, and nothing can grow. we cannot always be making all of the time. some seasons of life are for other things instead. healing, changing, starting over. i went through a years-long period of really wanting to write, but never managing to get words out when i tried. and guess what? it came back to me, eventually. but for a long time, i had to just... not write. and go live my life. and the world kept turning.

banging your head against the wall when it's not coming out won't solve anything. if you've tried it all, and it's still not happening? it might not be your time right now. and you might be doing yourself more harm than good by trying to force what's not, in this moment, meant to be. so deep breaths. chin up. know that it is okay to move on to the next season, and trust that it will come back when the time is right. life is long. nothing is forever, good or bad. there is so much more out there for you. infinite possibilities. i really do believe that!

sorry for the rambling lmao 😓 but hopefully you find some/any of this helpful!!! i'm here for you if you ever wanna talk more about writing struggles, bc i am no stranger to them. i love you! fighting!! 💜

[covencupid]

whoopsi gotta get serious

I have a lot I need to post and hopefully I’ll at least start posting the installments for everything I’ve been talking about.

Got a 1-2 punch of depression because i got a letter in the mail about my dad’s life insurance. Never knew that man had anything other than debt, and the last thing i expected was to be his beneficiary.

I should be happy that after everything at least I got some money out of it. Call it a trauma fee, but it’s just brought up a lot of mixed feelings.

🚨 Gonna vent below so feel free to skip. 🚨

My dad was a hoarder. The type to get the city called on the house because of the overgrown grass and the trash that spilled out of our trailer home that has been falling apart since I could remember. Whatever you are imagining, it was worse than that. Still, as a kid I felt safe, tucked into a pocket of plush blankets within the hoard. I felt shame in the comfort I found. For a long time my dad was the only one that worked, and he controlled the money he brought in with the selfishness of man without a family. Instead of food he bought himself cameras, instead of going to the doctor, he bought shrimp cup noodles and Kentucky Deluxe. I envied my friends that we’re probably only slightly less poor, but were cared for and safe in a house that didn’t threaten to fall apart. My parents only spoke in arguments. They never spoke in an “inside voice”. The two of them were like two black holes orbiting each other and to be near them is to be sucked into their rage, into their warpath. I hated him when he stole money from my piggy bank, I loved him when he’d talk to me about aliens and ghosts. I know he didn’t really know me, he forgot my age, he made me a go kart my mom never let me use, he went to every play I was in. I hate him, I love him. I wish he was different, I wish he was better. I wish I got to know more of the real him. I never knew he had been diagnosed with depression until he was driving me to the same psychiatric facility. I hate that I had to know him, and I regret not knowing more. Now I’m looking at the forms I’d have to sign to claim another small piece of his hoard. I’ll close out his tab.

[skyemisc]

Ruggie Bucchi Birthday SSR Story Translation

I’m sorry about poor image quality 😭 I don’t have his card but wanted to TL so they’re just kinda screenshots from YouTube 😅

Update: I got better images 🙌

NRC Newspaper interview Birthday interview feature

~Ruggie Edition~

Part 1:

Option: Happy birthday

Ruggie: Thanks! Hehehe, birthdays are just the best.

Ruggie: Actually, I’ve given a bunch of birthday presents to others.

Ruggie: Of course, I wanted to help celebrate my dear friends’ birthdays…

Ruggie: …Sike, no it’s so they pay me back on my own birthday!

Ruggie: ‘Cause they’re from well off families, the presents I get are plentiful and top-notch.

Ruggie: Last year my hands were full of gifts. Lookin’ forward for this year’s too~!

Screen: Please share any memories with your family around your birthday.

Ruggie: My family? My mom joined the stars in the sky shortly after I was born…

Ruggie: My dad left claiming he’d be away for work but never came back since. Got now idea where he’s at now…

Ruggie: But if we talking memories, I spent a lot of time with my grandma.

Ruggie: At home, those days food was hard to come by, so we couldn’t buy any fancy cakes.

Ruggie: Instead, I looked forward to the donuts grandma would make me every year.

Ruggie: Crunchy on the outside, fluffy on the inside! They were simple but I’d just wolf ‘em down.

Ruggie: I earned some extra income from a part-time job, and I was able to buy some decent ingredients. We’d pour melted chocolate over them, add some almonds on top just to give them a slight rich flavor.

Ruggie: I buy cake now but, but on my birthday, I feel an itch to eat some donuts.

Screen: She must be a wonderful grandma.

Ruggie: Hehehe. Right? She’s a nice, but stubborn, prideful grandma.

--

Part 2:

Screen: What sort of foods do you like?

Ruggie: Like I was talking about earlier, my favorite are donuts!

Ruggie: Though, I’ll gladly eat unspoiled meat off the bone and the bone itself.

Ruggie: …What? Did you think I was joking?

Ruggie: We hyenas have strong jaws, so we can chew through not just meat, but thick bones too.

Ruggie: If you don’t believe me, treat me to some meat on a bone. I’ll gobble the bone and whole right before your eyes!

Screen: Is there anything you value greatly?

Ruggie: MONEY!

Screen: Is there anything else besides that?

Ruggie: Huh? If there’s something else…? Probably my warthog piggy bank.

Ruggie: When I was young, some rich family tossed it out and it ended up in my hands.

Ruggie: Thinking I could sell it, I brought them to a secondhand store, but they couldn’t decide on a price, so I ended up keeping it.

Ruggie: Whenever you put a coin into its open mouth, it’d make a happy noise and start playing a fun tune.

Ruggie: it was just as happy about saving up money… So, I just got more attached to it.

Ruggie: On top of that, I heard there’s a meerkat one from the same series. I’d like to get my hands on it some day and sit it next to it.

--

Part 3

Screen: Please tell me what kind of impression your dorm leader gives.

Ruggie: Huh? About Leona-san? Hmm…

Ruggie: He’s only lived with other servants, so he seems pretty used to using others.

Ruggie: He works people too hard but there’s benefits in it for me too, so it’s worth working for him.

Screen: What sort of benefits?

Ruggie: First are the financial aspects. Leona-san often gives me stuff he doesn’t need anymore… It honestly is so handy!

Ruggie: I’ll get some useful things. If I think anyone else might need it, I’ll sell—er, give it to them.

Ruggie: Second are the academic aspects. In exchange for labor, he’ll help me with schoolwork I’m stuck on.

Ruggie: Before enrolling into Night Raven College, I only had the most basic of knowledge…

Ruggie: I wasn’t sure how this so-called “studying” worked, so in the beginning my grades were pretty bad.

Ruggie: But, thanks to Leona giving me reference books, past exam questions, and advice, my grades are now below average!

Ruggie: Awesome, right? It’s hard starting from the very bottom to reach average grades~

Ruggie: Goes to show it’s important to keep powerful people in arm’s reach. Gotta snatch up whatever might be useful whenever you can.

Screen: How do you spend your time during long breaks?

Ruggie: Hmmm…. Besides going home, I get sucked into part-time work. There’s a lot of jobs that’ll let you live on site and provide meals.

Ruggie: Like working on staff at a resort in the summer or working as a ski instructor in the winter.

Ruggie: There’s all kinds of customers and staff and it’s fun meeting new people.

Ruggie: I can now do simple greetings and price haggling in over 10 different languages.

Ruggie: If I ever meet some famous magician by chance, it’d come in handy for making connections!

Screen: Thank you for letting me listen to your stories.

Screen: Once again, happy birthday.

--

[the-knights-who-say-book]

i want a “the butts match” situation in Miraculous Ladybug

it’s Adrien who does it, obviously. He gets bored at home one day when his father wouldn’t let him go out with his friends. So he makes an instagram account called AdrienAgresteIsCatNoir, follows everyone in Paris he can think of, and starts posting. Plagg puts in minimal effort to dissuade him, but Adrien’s already having too much fun

He pairs an advertisement he was in next to a blurry shot of Cat Noir pole-yeeting himself away, outlines the elbows in MSPaint bright red, and captions it “THEIR ELBOWS ARE THE SAME SHAPE. ADRIEN AGRESTE IS CAT NOIR, CONFIRMED”

(“Oh my god, elbows are not, like, distinctive shapes,” Marinette says when Alya shows it to her)

He posts a video of himself from a runway show with a video of Cat Noir sauntering across a rooftop and captions it “CAT WALK... CATWALK... I’VE CONNECTED THE DOTS”

(“You didn’t connect shit!” Marinette yells at her screen. She didn’t follow the account back but she can’t help checking it once a day. Tikki has dissolved into giggles.)

He makes a lengthy series of posts positing that Adrien and Cat Noir have never been seen in the same room together, very badly handwaving away that time Cat Noir saved Adrien.

(“Adrien is way prettier than Cat Noir.”

“Yes, Marinette.”

“And funnier. And nicer.”

“We know, Marinette.”)

It became an instant meme at school, but now the conspiracy is starting to spread to other sites too as people laugh at the idea. Adrien’s father makes him go on a talk show to promote his new line, and the host, of course, just happens to have a Cat Noir mask on hand, and they do a bit where Adrien walks around saying things like “Hawk Moth doesn’t stand a chance against... this!” (Strikes a model pose) and “Excuse me, akumatized neighbor, if you don’t stop turning everyone into candy I will have to ask my father’s assistant to escort you out.”

Gabriel hates the segment. Adrien’s friends love it. Marinette is having so many feelings about seeing Adrien as Chat Noir that she physically cannot speak. Tikki attempts to strangle Plagg for letting this happen.

By a few weeks later it’s completely died down. The instagram account lapses. Everyone has other things to talk about. But every once in a while, when people speculate about Ladybug and Cat Noir’s identities, someone will say in a mock serious voice, “You know, I heard that Cat Noir and Adrien Agreste have the exact same elbow shape” and everyone will laugh.

Just before the whole episode fades out of public consciousness, he takes a chance. Ladybug has just de-akumatized and released a butterfly, and they both have to get going before they transform back soon. Adrien yawns loudly, stretches, winks, and says, “Gotta go, I need my beauty sleep. I hear I have a photoshoot in the morning.”

Marinette’s heart almost drops out of her chest. Then she rolls her eyes so disgustedly that even bystanders can see. “Yeah, make sure you get a good angle to show off those elbows.” She throws the ladybug-dotted piggy bank from her lucky charm into the sky, showering magical ladybugs onto Hawk Moth’s destruction, letting them set it all back to normal.

Normal, where Adrien and Cat Noir are completely different people. Obviously.

[ratmonky]

The Payment

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: non-con, blackmail, degradation, gangbang

AO3 Link

Money ruled the world.

You had learned it the hard way when you were brainwashed by people who already had millions in their bank account telling you that money didn’t buy happiness. Live freely without thinking about money. 

It was easy for them to say. You grew up in poverty while they didn’t even need to iron their own clothes. People like you grew up in neighborhoods with weak institutions and organizations aside from the high crime rates. You didn’t have that many opportunities in your life because you didn’t get the same treatment, education, or allowance as other children your age who were lucky enough to be born into a household with rich parents. People from the bottom rungs of the income ladder like you had to work hard to get to where you would be treated as equal. 

You worked hard, worked until you would pass out from exhaustion. Journalism didn’t pay well unless you had a story that could sell.

People didn’t want to hear about the good stories about how the crime rate started to drop with the debut of new pro heroes or how the younger generation pro heroes had a promising future in Musutafu if they went to UA Academy. 

News that made people’s blood run cold sold fast and better. 

Did Stain kill pros? While everyone focuses on the devastating news, sneak into the crime scene and snap some photos to sell them to the bidders. 

Some villain blew up a school? Take photos of the injured children crying and some parents grasping onto their daughter’s shoe while hysterically screaming for the big effect. 

Sightings of the leader of the League of Villains Tomura Shigaraki? Make some investigation to find where he might be next and take a picture of him without his knowledge.

You did many questionable things to earn money but it actually helped you build a career and gave you a reputation. You were brave. Brave because you did things other people would be too hesitant to do. 

You were brave.

People thought you were brave.

What a sick joke.

You couldn’t see clearly because of your tears, only able to make out the outline of his messy hair but he was waving something to your face. “Are you gutsy like everyone says you are or are you just trying to act like a hero?”

Soft paper rained on you. You realized that it was your money.

None, you wanted to say. I do it for the money.

“Was that all the money?” Shigaraki asked one of the two guys who had kidnapped you.

“Guess so.” A carefree and stoic tone made you shiver. That was the patchwork face, the sick bastard who kept groping you in the back of the van.

“I need a clear answer.”

“Yes.” The patchwork let out an audible sigh of boredom. “She had them in her piggy bank like a damn toddler.”

“Aww, that’s so cute!” A girl’s voice.

“Did you find anything else in her house?”

“These, boss.” 

You watched as Shigaraki took the pictures you had taken of him from your other kidnapper. He delicately checked the photos and crumbled them in his hands. His Quirk activated and ashy dust spilled down from his hand.

Those pictures would have been enough to pay your three months’ rent but they were nothing but dust now.

“She was crying on the way here, boss,” laughed the man in the bodysuit. “Made me feel kinda bad.”

“What I’m about to do will make you feel worse then,” Shigaraki chuckled behind his mask and leaned down to your face. “We gotta make an example out of her so others won’t try to do the same.”

Time stopped moving for you. 

You could figure out that you were in a pickle but the realization of who was threatening you was starting to settle in. The most wanted villain in the country was standing in front of you, in flesh and bone. 

You had angered him.

Getting overwhelmed, you took a sharp breath and exhaled loudly. You had to calm down, Shigaraki wouldn’t kill you, he was a villain but he could understand why you had taken those pictures, right?

You were nobody, just trying to live another day by doing your job.

He had to know that.

“How should I punish you? Hmm?” Shigaraki drawled, sounding almost thoughtful before chuckling to himself. “Should we take pictures of you? What kinda pictures would get people like you off my back?”

Your pulse went haywire, lower lip trembling. “Please… I’m begging you, I was just doing what I had to do for money…”

“Shigaraki, you shouldn’t get wild,” Magne warned. “Respect women.”

Shigaraki’s shoulders stiffened, he stared down at you with disgust before giving a sigh. “True sis.”

He then untied you and let you go because he respects women. He was understanding of your situation with money as well, so he let you take a selfie with him which you could sell for a shit ton of money. 

It wasn’t long until you wrote and article about how respectful Tomura Shigaraki were towards women. He got so touched by your writing that he stopped being a villain to be with you. 

You two had sex in the missionary position in the dark and he used a condom.

[unrestedjade]

More baseless Ferengi headcanons no one asked for: LATINUM EDITION~~~

- Almost every home is a rental, as almost all usable land is corporate-owned. Might as well daydream about owning a moon, it's no less realistic than owning the house you grew up in. (No I'm not frustrated with my $1500 rent at all, no I'm not miserable watching 40-year-old trailer homes selling for $250k to a property management firm that's going to rent it out. Surely a place like Ferenginar wouldn't be equally ridiculous, hahahahahahahahHAHAHAHA. Ahem.) - Latinum as religious fetish. We see Quark offering slips of latinum while he prays to the Blessed Exchequer before bed. He even has a little shrine. What's unclear is whether you're meant to reuse the same slips each day or if you have to actually "give up" the latinum over the longer term for the offering to count. You can break a piggy bank, but it's probably bad to break an image of the Exchequer, unless he's very chillaxed compared to the majority of gods. - Assuming really giving up the latinum is better, is destroying it extra good? Or are you sinning by removing it from the Continuum? Are there Ferengi extremist sects that sink latinum into bogs or launch it into a star?

- What do they think and feel about latinum with regards to the Exchequer? What does a god need with it? Is it meant to be his lifeblood, figuratively? Or literally, via transubstantiation? (Catholic Ferengi. Cathipitolists.)

- How was latinum treated in the days before they knew to process it with gold so it could be handled safely? It's very pretty and ethereal-looking in its raw form, and also very, very toxic. Depending on the symptoms of latinum poisoning, I wonder if it had anything to do with it gaining religious significance? Ancient Ferengi priests seeing visions and going a little funny in the head from handling raw latinum for years and years?

- The way Quark and Brunt talk about taxes in S7 suggests there's not a lot of taxation in Ferengi society (officially, anyway. idk what else you'd call their ubiquitous bribes/tips than unofficial taxation). In any case, since one of the major purposes of taxation in modern economies is to control inflation by removing money (governments create/destroy money; they don't really keep a little checkbook register of surplus/deficit the way a household does) offering latinum to the Exchequer as an act of worship could be a good way to take money out of circulation for a while. - Latinum vs fiat money? Latinum is canonically used as coinage by multiple species. (It would seem like Ferengi are putting themselves at a bit of a disadvantage by also attaching a spiritual importance to it, but who knows, and this is a tangent on a tangent.) Is all their money backed by latinum? It can't be, right? Just conceptually, their stock markets and banks can't possibly be tying every value in every account to a real, physical measure of latinum, that's horribly inefficient. Can "latinum" also mean any legitimate liquid asset? Or does the Exchequer insist on the real thing? Much to ponder. - Brunt implies in Family Business that Ferenginar has houseless people and beggars. There's no point in begging if no one ever gives you anything, so some people must give charity to beggars. What's that look like, is it something kind-hearted Ferengi do in spite of the RoA explicitly stating that charity is only acceptable when you come out richer than you started? What's their rationalization in that case? Are they left feeling shameful about it? (Obviously the people stuck begging feel shitty, by design. Ironically, they might feel less shitty than we would, since the Exchequer doesn't appear to care how you get money, only that you get it.) - If you're moved to give money/material aid to a needy person, you'd probably do it quietly. Here in the good ol' US of A a common view is that "hand-outs" hurt the needy person in the long run because you're removing their impetus to stop being lazy sponges. And that's from people who follow a religion that commands them to care for the needy! So it's gotta be even harsher under a religion that's completely mask-off in its worship of individual prosperity. - (You just know Keldar was one of those people tossing a few slips of latinum for someone sleeping under a shop awning each morning. His business sense sucked but Ishka made him sound like a warm person. Folks gotta eat.) - Reincarnation... Alright, so if you were a dude and you die broke it's implied you can't reincarnate/are damned to the Vault of Eternal Destitution. Cool and fair, nothing to unpack there. What about women? They're half the population but seem to have been overlooked on this point in this here 10k-year-old religion. Which is telling in itself, of course, but you'd think someone would have addressed this? Who reincarnates female? Is the accepted understanding that females reincarnate female and are totally removed from the requirement to bid on their life? But that still doesn't solve the problem, because even if reincarnation were assigned-sex-segregated (god what a shitty idea, compels me tho) you're still losing X number of men to the Vault each generation. - I want to see what Ferengi religious debates look like. Pel is shown to be a serious scholar of the RoA as they've dug into not only the text itself but all the commentaries and refutations and deep-dives others have published about it. That's gotta fuel some spicy convo around the tongo table once everyone's a few drinks in. - Are there multiple sects? People arguing whether this or that rule is meant to be taken literally vs as metaphor? Everyone can't be in lockstep on this stuff. Quark seems to have been raised within the currently-hegemonic sect, but surely there's others.

- There don't appear to be any clergy or equivalent persons, so I wonder if there's different sects how they organize themselves? Do they host different subs on Ferengi Reddit? (Ferengi Reddit...shudder) - Ferengi atheists slacking at work or living as drifters because there's no point saving money for a next life that's not real. Life must drive them to drink. That's when you go out into space to live with the sane people and never call home.

- Is the rest of the population chill with atheists, or is that a no-go? I guess it would depend on how loud the person is and whether they follow the Rules or not.

- You know who they're definitely not chill with: socialists. Do they have Satanic Panics about this or that media turning the youth into commies? If you're an outspoken socialist, are you looking at exile? Arrest? An unexpected date with an Eliminator? - Conspicuous consumption seems to be a thing, and it's interesting in light of the whole "needing a good high score for a good reincarnation" idea. It still boils down to showing off how much you can afford to waste, but the stakes are undoubtedly higher for the faithful. - If something happens and you're at risk if losing everything, is it safer to just off yourself while you still have money? What if you're going to lose more than you'd ever be able to make back? (In economics this is called a perverse incentive lulz)

- The Great Monetary Collapse must have suuuuucked. It's the Great Depression x100, and also your god is mad at you, maybe??? And your next life is totally screwed now, too. Fuckin' dire, man. When Quark mentioned it in the show, it was with this flippant air like he was waiting to see how Miles and Julian reacted. He might have elaborated more if they hadn't reacted...the way he probably assumed they would. (Partially a self-fulfilling prophecy given the way he primed them to treat it as a joke, but I digress.) - Suicide rates are measurably higher in societies that elevate achievement and work ethic (see the Protestant vs Catholic divide on this, it's interesting and very depressing as a lapsed protestant in a protestant-dominated country). Just saying. - On this same bummer track: hedonic depression could be very commonplace among Ferengi. Every minute not spent working is spent on distraction because life is just such an exhausting grind, and a lot of factors determining whether you're a good/successful person are out of your control. Booze, porn, and gambling are all very distracting, and thus very popular. If a lot of this just sounds like regular degular capitalism: yes. It's actually proving difficult to push the fictional society further out because we're already living beyond satire. Maybe that's why I like these awful little guys so much. (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

[therandompeep]

MHA Boys if (Y/N) found their collection of her merch >:))

ok, so this one only has Bakugou and Deku...yeah.. enjoy! lmao

 IZUKU sighed contently looking around his house making sure everything was in top shape before you came over for the first time after dating for about 6 months. Izuku pulled his phone out of his phone out of his pocket and looked at the time. “I got 10 minutes” he smiled then caught a glance of his clothes seeing stains and dirt plastered on them. He cringed at himself and went to him room to change only to freeze in horror. Action figures, shirts, piggy banks, anything you could think of, was YOU. Merch of you was EVERYWHERE. He quickly looked down to his phone for the time “9 minutes!?” He screeched almost dropping his phone and racing around his room to grab everything. Izuku grabbed armfuls of his collection and looked around his room trying to find a proper spot to hide his delicacies. His closet came to view as he swung the door open with his foot harshly and began to place everything down as quickly as possible without harming them. “Hey Izuku! I’m here!” Izukus body grew pale hearing (Y/N)’s voice echoing down the hall. ‘Shes 5 minutes late!’ Izuku panicked trying to think of something to say “G-Give me a sec! I gotta uh- Yeah!!” he yelled and cursed to himself. “You ok?” (Y/N) chuckled edging closer to his room. Izuku ran back and forth starting to just throw things into the closet before pulling onto a blacket he didnt notice he was standing on and fell into the closet. The loud crash alerted (Y/N) as she ran in “Izuku! What happened?” she looked around then looked down seeing his leg sticking out of his closet as the door barley held onto the frame. (Y/N) rounded the corner seeing little action figures littering Izuku’s lap, a blaket of her wrapped around his shoulders and covering his head and extra merch laying about around him. (Y/N) giggled making Izuku stiffen as she squatted down and pulled the blanket up from his face revealing Izuku with his eyes shut tightly and his face beet red. “Are you ok?” (Y/N) chuckled as he opened one eye to her hesitantly “I fell..” he said quickly not really wanting to look up to her ashamed. She pulled the blanket off him and started to take the figurines off him and inspected them. Izuku finally looked at her as she looked at his collection “Im sorry” he whispered looking to his lap “For what?” (Y/N) looked to him confused “For having so much of you, I was a big fan before we got together” he sweated realizing how creepy he must look. “Was a fan? Ouch” (Y/N) teased leaving a peck on his lips “I thought you still liked me” she smiled at him as he blushed harder looking at her completely stunned. Before he could respond, she spoke “Now get up so we could put your stuff away” she stood up giving him a hand. “You’re really not creeped out?” Izuku looked at (Y/N) confused as she bent down to pick up a hat. “Naw, you should see my collection” she winked turning away from him and placed it in his closet “hUuuUh?” Izuku drug out in disbelief before shooting off a million questions.  

BAKUGOU messed around with his keys trying to find the one that matched the lock to his door. A new collection of (Y/N) came out and he creeped out of his apartment to get it. He grumbled irritated finally fitting the right key in after a minute and pushed the door open. “AH!” (Y/N) shouted making the man jump. “Damn it you Brat! What are you even doing here?” Bakugou glared down to her, pulling the bag away from her. “I felt like pestering you” she smiled then looked to the bag “You got snacks for tonight? Give me some.” she threatened reaching over to the bag and grabbing into it. Bakugou growled, placing his hand on her face and pushed her away “No, these arent for you” he snarled as she grabbed onto his wrist and pulled her face away from his hand. “Theen what is it?” she eyed the bag as if she could through it and started smiling overly hard. Bakugou glared confused and moved the bag behind him nervously. “Come on Kasuki, no need to be afraid” (Y/N) smiled evilly before she physically started to climb him only to leave him to swat at her and shout. He walked over to the couch and threw her down on the cushions, dropping the bag a few away. Then wrapped his arms tightly around her arms and laid on top of her leaving (Y/N) to struggle. “Bakugou let go!” she laughed as he buried his face in her chest. “You’re a dick” she giggled in defeat watching Bakugou pull his head up “You done?” he smirked seeing (Y/N) drop her head and let out a dragged out groan. He leaned over and kissed her making them both smile into the kiss. Bakugou pulled away, both of them looking into eachothers eyes until (Y/N) looked over and started bursting into laughter. “What's so funny huh?” he glared playfully at her. “I never knew you were a big fan of me” she laughed out making him look at the bag seeing all the merch spread out across the floor for anyone to see. Bakugou quickly got off her and raced for the bag “I didn't see anything Brat!! Look away!” He screamed as (Y/N) fell off the couch laughing to tears.

[seventeenwrites]

Catharsis - Chapter Two

-> Group: The Boyz

-> Type: Short Series

-> Member(s) of Interest: Sunwoo

-> Word Count: ~2.9k

-> Genre: angst, fluff, apocalypse au

-> Warnings: alien apocalypse, guns/weapons, blood, violence, death, cursing, female MC

-> Playlist: Hold You in My Arms by Ray LaMontagne; All Right Now by Angel Olsen; Saccharine by Atta Boy; Love & Hate by Michael Kiwanuka

-> a/n: Hey guys! Here's chapter two! Again, I want to emphasize that my goal with this series is to portray a kind of love which transcends any kind of labels we’ve assigned to love (romantic, platonic, familial, etc.). It may seem a bit hard-and-fast, but I think that is a reflection of the world around these characters. When you don’t know if you will live to see another day, when you are surrounded by death and tragedy, you live and you love without regrets, or at least you try your damnedest to.

Catharsis.

And then, fortunately, my eyes opened. Now, this wasn’t fortunate because I was alive, but rather because of the way I was alive. The fire that had separated Sunwoo and I the night before had died, but the coals were still glowing, so that they could easily be re-ignited. Just beyond the pit lay Sunwoo, still sleeping. One of his shoes had been thrown six feet away in the middle of the night, and his left arm was almost completely smothering his face.

Before I had time to laugh at him, a voice interrupted me.

“Oh, Ari! I’m assuming Sunny filled you in last night.” I whipped my head in the direction of the voice, to find the same man who had yelled at us the night before. Jacob, right? When not puffy-faced and half-asleep, he was much better-looking. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes popped out and his cheekbones were raised nonetheless, in a way that reminded me of my mother's face in her youth. Next to Jacob was another man, who I could immediately tell was the leader of whatever this place was. His nose high on his face and his brow heavy, he was reminiscent of a Renaissance sculpture, elegantly beautiful, yet intimidatingly powerful. He was also impressively clean; everything from his ears to his nail beds were devoid of even a single smudge of dirt.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. I think so,” I said, sitting up and wrapping the blanket around myself, suddenly self-conscious of my dirty T-shirt and basketball shorts.

“Good. Sangyeon and I are gonna go collect more firewood. There’s berries and nuts in those if you get hungry.” Jacob pointed to a collection of miscellaneous containers by the centermost tent. Wooden crates, mason jars, old metal lunch boxes decorated with superheroes and princesses, even a piggy bank. Resourceful. Smart, I thought to myself. I turned back to the two men, to find that Jacob had already started walking away. Sangyeon still stood before me and assessed me for a few seconds, slightly nodding his head and furrowing his brow.

“We’ll be back,” he said before slinging a backpack over one shoulder and following Jacob out of the camp. I didn’t blame him. If I was running a camp and one of my members suddenly showed up with a random girl, I would be suspicious, too.

As the day got brighter, more of the members woke up and came to greet me, and I got to know more about who these people were and how this place worked. There was Kevin, who came out of the same tent as Jacob, and who was a self-proclaimed genius chef, but judging by the defined musculature on his small figure, he was useful for more than his culinary skills. In the next tent there was Changmin and Chanhee, who seemed to be attached at the hip; they were both lean, perfect for long-distance running. The next tent housed Eric and Haknyeon, who were both robust and muscular, obvious fighters. The last tent was home to Juyeon, Younghoon, and Hyunjae, who entered last and were all visibly athletic, with their long and sturdy physiques. I had finally figured it out. This place was a powerhouse. No Echo would be a match for these boys.

“Always tardy, huh, sleepyheads?” Changmin jested towards the last three to join our circle around the dead fire.

“SHHH!” Eric suddenly play-whispered, “You’ll wake the baby.” He pointed towards Sunwoo’s still-sleeping figure.

“Eric, you’re literally younger than him,” Kevin laughed while trying to catch berries in his mouth, and failing. Hilariously.

“By like eight months!” Eric shouted, a slight pout donning his face.

“That’s pretty significant, if you ask me.” We all looked down at Sunwoo, whose arm was still covering his eyes, but whose mouth was visibly quivering to maintain a laugh. He peeked out beneath his arm to see what Eric’s response would be, but Haknyeon was already holding Eric back.

“Okay, babies. Let’s calm down. Jacob and Sangyeon will be back soon and I’m sure they’ll have food.” Juyeon hushed-- his voice had a way of calming the boys down that could only have been achieved through years of trust and reliability. His voice and the mention of food seemed to lull the pretend conflict, and pretty soon, side conversations enveloped the entire group. I sat and watched Sunwoo. He was chatting with Kevin who was right next to him, and he was laughing at something, his head thrown back. I found myself smiling. Two smiles in 24 hours. That’s gotta be a record.

Sunwoo’s eyes met mine and I felt my heart leap. He excused himself from his conversation and walked over to sit next to me, placing his hand on top of mine. Again, I noted just how soft his hands were. And warm too, compared to the frigid morning air. As if feeling his warmth made me colder, a shiver traveled down my spine.

“Cold?” Sunwoo asked. I nodded in reply. “Let me in there, then,” he said, pointing at my blanket. I opened it and he stuck himself into my arms, grabbing them to close on top of him. He was warm. Physically, but he also warmed me from the inside, like drinking a cup of hot cocoa after playing in the snow, or getting a hug from your mom after your first piano recital. He felt like home.

-------

When Jacob and Sangyeon came back, they were dragging a deer behind them, backpacks chock full of firewood. The boys all scrambled up excitedly; I could only make out random interjections and complaints about hunger from the younger ones.

“You’ll finally get to see me in action, Ari,” Kevin quipped, gathering random tools and ingredients to cook the deer with.

Sangyeon walked up to Sunwoo and I, placing his bag by his feet and looking me up and down, just like he had before he left. Still suspicious of me, I guess. He turned his eyes to the boy next to me, looking him up and down as well, and started, “Go get some water from the stream, will you?”

“Sangyeon, come on! It’s been three weeks already, surely I can do something else?”

“Sunny, I’m sorry, but your legs obviously just not healed yet.”

Sunwoo looked as though he was going to protest again, but Jacob cut in before he could: “Doctor’s orders, bud. I’ll take a look at it again later today.”

Shoulders slumped, Sunwoo dramatically sighed and grabbed my hand, dragging me along with him.

“I’ve been on water duty for three weeks, now. I mean, I understand. They care about me; they want me to be safe, and the path to the stream is clear and short-- almost impossible to get hurt. But like, come on. Three weeks of getting water. I’m sick of this damn path!” He joked, swatting a vine out of his way.

“What happened to your leg, anyway?” I asked. “If you don’t mind sharing,” I quickly added, suddenly afraid that it was too personal.

Sunwoo stopped in his tracks, looking at the ground. I could see the wheels turning in his head, as if he was trying to figure out how much of himself to reveal to me. He sighed and let go of my hand, turning to face me. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at me, the morning sunlight shining only on the right half of his face.

“It was about two months ago. A few of us were out looking for clothes and other essentials. We figured we’d go about ten miles east and get to the city that used to be there, hit all of the convenience stores and shopping malls. But we strayed too far from camp, and we got lost on our way back. By sundown we were in the middle of the woods with no shelter, no food, nothing.

“We were ambushed in the middle of the night. Those bastards were wearing our own faces. We couldn’t tell who was real and who was an Echo. Hyunjae did this to me,” he said, referencing his injured ankle, “Pushed me into a big tree trunk. I forgive him, obviously. It was crazy, and he was trying to protect himself. That same night…” he trailed off.

I could tell that he was about to cry, since he was starting to choke on his words, “That same night, I-- I killed one of our guys. Didn’t know it was him until it was too late, until he was already bleeding red. I shot him. He was flailing around all crazy-like with his knife. I didn’t know if he was him or an Echo, so I shot him. I should've-- I should’ve shot his foot, or his hand, to see his blood. But I didn’t. I got him right underneath the heart. Missed it by a hair. So I held him as he went. For thirteen minutes, I held him. I looked him in the eyes as the life left ‘em and I held his hands as they went limp. That poor fucking bastard, I’m so sorry to him.”

Sunwoo was crying. It was a cry I had never seen or heard from a human before. It was absolutely, heart-wrenchingly tragic, and the only thing I could do for him was hold him. I didn’t tell him that it wasn’t his fault, because he knew that already. I didn’t tell him that he was still a good person, because he knew that already. I didn’t tell him that I loved him, because he knew that, too.

I didn’t tell him that his member was in a better place, because we both knew it wasn’t true.

-------

When we got to the stream, we were holding hands again. Sunwoo was still wiping tears off of his face with his free hand, but he was smiling again.

“Whaddya say, Ari? Care for a little dip before we head back?” Sunwoo teased, rocking his shoulders as if to say I’m joking, but if you’re down, then I’m really fucking down.

“Fine, kid,” I chortled, “but only because that water looks deliciously crisp right now.”

I turned away to place all of the water buckets on the ground, and when I turned back, Sunwoo was standing a yard or two away, facing the water. He reached down and took his shirt off in a swift and seamless motion, one which seemed to me only men were capable of performing. The sunlight kissed his skin, illuminating its smooth and tanned surface. The shadows of his shoulder blades danced across his back as he attempted to balance on a stepping stone. The gentle slope of his neck blended seamlessly into the crease of his spine which traveled all the way down his back, like a book that I never wanted to stop reading. His arms, outstretched in a balancing act, were lean, yet capable and sturdy shooting arms, slightly different in size as a reflection of his right-handedness.

He turned around to look at me, a wide smile on his face. His eyes were still bloodshot and puffy from crying, and his face still splotchy, but his smile-- his smile was brighter than the light of any sun. I didn’t think I had ever seen anyone or anything so beautiful in my life. I smiled back at him, and I felt my own eyes start to well up with tears.

“Come on, Ari! This stream isn’t gonna skinny-dip itself!” Forgiving his slightly awkward--yet adorable--phrasing, I accepted his challenge, jumping in with him.

As our heads both emerged, we held hands under the water, my thumb rubbing the soft skin of his. He leaned in and placed a kiss on the top of my ear, before settling his face into the crook of my neck. And then, again, we felt like nothing more than an extension of the earth below our feet and the sky above our heads.

Catharsis.

-------

Sunwoo and I arrived back at camp and we were met with ten horrified faces. To be fair, we looked an absolute mess. Our clothes were sopping wet, hanging off of our bodies like rags. As our feet had been too wet to put our shoes back on, we walked back barefoot, as evidenced by the dirt, mud, and scratches littering our ankles and calves. Our hair, like something out of a horror movie, dangling in front of our faces in stringy and curly sections.

“Sunny! What the heck, dude?” Jacob cried, staring in shock at Sunwoo’s now dirty and tattered bandage on his ankle. Sunwoo half-smiled, scratching the back of his neck.

“Sorry, Cobie. You should’ve seen the stream today! It was so beautiful; we just had to swim in it!” He replied, a slight pout on his lips.

Chanhee was sitting at the fire a few feet away, a sly smile engulfing his face. “Oh sure,” he teased, “Swimming. I bet that’s all you two were doing.” He puckered his lips and wrapped his arms around himself, a type of mockery I hadn’t seen since high school. I couldn’t help but giggle at him, even if he was jumping to conclusions, and incorrect ones, at that.

Sunwoo and I hadn’t kissed. We didn’t need to, and maybe we never would. We only needed to hold each other. And frankly, that’s all I wanted to do for the rest of my days.

As Jacob unwrapped the bandage from Sunwoo’s ankle, his smile faltered for a second before he replaced it. I knew that look. I grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“What is it?” Jacob looked at me, contemplating, then turned to Sunwoo and sighed. He resumed his faux angry persona from earlier, resembling a loving parent.

“This is why I told you to be careful, Sunny! The wound must have reopened at some point, and you got it dirty when you were out there. It should be fine if we wash it and dress it with herbs, but you’re gonna have to stay off of it for longer-- and no more playing in dirt, for Christ’s sake, Sunny.” Sunwoo looked like a child getting scolded for tracking dirt into the house, but I could see the twinkle of mischief still ever-bright in his innocent eyes.

Sangyeon walked over to us, still as reserved and stoic as ever. He looked me over as he always did, eyes filled with suspicion and piqued interest. He turned to Jacob, who I had figured out was something of a second-in-command.

“We’ve received word of a pack about a mile west. We should head out now, while it’s still bright out,” he turned to look at Sunwoo, still talking to Jacob“This is sort of an all-hands-on-deck situation. Is he okay to shoot?”

Sunwoo replied for Jacob by standing up, still young and eager to prove himself, “I’m fine, I promise! I’m not in pain, and my ankle won’t affect my shooting if I’m sniping. Sir.” Sangyeon looked Sunwoo up and down, slightly nodding his head, then reached out to pat him on the shoulder.

“Don’t get hurt again, buddy. We can’t lose anyone else.” That was the first time I had seen Sangyeon let his guard down, and I even saw a tear slip out of the corner of his left eye. Sunwoo bit his lip in an attempt to suppress the tears he had already let go that morning. Sangyeon was quick to wipe it and resume his cold air, though, and he turned to look at me, unsure of what to do with me.

“What do you mean you received word? And why are you seeking out Echoes? Shouldn’t we be, like, hiding from them?” I asked.

Sangyeon stared at me again. “I hear you’re good with a knife.”

“Not good. Excellent.”

He nodded and walked off, leaving my questions unanswered, to which I looked at Sunwoo in disbelief.

A slight smile spread across Sunwoo’s face and he started walking towards one of the smaller tents, expecting me to follow him. When I walked in, I saw more radios than I had ever seen in my life. Old ones that couldn’t have been less than 60 years old, the ones that were built into flashlights, walkie talkies, even old car radios.

“Kid, what the hell is this?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“This, Ari, is anything that can send or receive signals through the next hundred miles. Over the year and a half we’ve been here, we’ve found all of them.”

“B--But why?”

“So we can get them before they get us. There are lots of us out there, we send word to each other if we see or hear of Echoes that we can’t get ourselves.”

The wheels in my head were turning so quickly, and I still couldn’t understand it.

“So-- So you guys actually… hunt Echoes? You don’t just run from them?”

“That’s right. And we’re gonna keep hunting them. Until every one of those bastards is six feet under.”

It all finally made sense. How organized and resourceful they all were. How skilled they all were at fighting. The hierarchy and positions they all assumed, with Sangyeon at the top. This wasn’t a camp.

It was a machine. An Echo-hunting machine.

[raunchyom]

Vices, Not Virtues: Charity

[ Chapter 2 ]

[ Previous ] [ Next ]

A/N: Man, this took a helluva lot longer than I thought it would. It also ended up being a helluva lot longer than I thought it would, despite what I said on the last chapter. Oops. Hope y’all like long fics ^^’ Tagging: @devintrinidad

word count: 3k || warnings: n/a​

Since arriving in the Devildom, you’d been perpetually busy. 

Whether baking with Luke or shopping with Asmo, reading with Satan or snacking with Beel, practicing magic with Solomon or playing body pillow for Belphie, going to class or doing mountains of homework-- it was always something, and it always added up to a very full schedule.

Today was no different. Lucifer had insisted on keeping you until you were practically asleep in his study last night, only relenting because you had class the next day. And it wasn’t as if you could fall asleep when you got back to your room-- you had things due tomorrow, and a full schedule to try and get back on track of.

You’d mostly succeeded on the homework front, even finishing with enough time for a solid 4 hours of sleep that night. The pre-class D.D.D. tutorial you’d promised to Simeon happened right on schedule, and you successfully stayed awake for your entire first and second periods. You snuck out of third period to help Asmo with his latest fashion emergency, then managed the rest of third and fourth period without a hitch. You spent lunch listening to the newest anime-oriented drama from Levi, then attended the last of your classes. A text popped up from Beel just thirty minutes before school was over that he made a mistake, and needed your advice. You went ahead and offered to help clean the kitchen, already guessing what had happened. Overall, it was a pretty standard day.

Well, standard or not, once you’d gotten back to your room-- and finished cleaning up the wreckage that Beel had severely understated in his messages-- it was late, with a lot left to do. You opened your door, mentally blocking out how much time it should take to complete everything. Your math left you confident that you could get 4 hours of sleep again tonight, maybe even 5 if you really focused. You set your backpack down, feeling better, and flopped into your desk chair. The second your butt hit the cushion, you felt your D.D.D. buzz from your pocket.

You groaned, head hitting the desk with a soft ‘thunk’. Didn’t your phone know that you were busy?

As if it could hear your thoughts, the device vibrated again, eliciting a sigh. Pity party successfully waylaid, you dug your D.D.D. out of your pocket and checked the notifications.

It was a string of texts, all from Mammon. First he asked what you were doing, then where you were. The next one said to forget both of those; he needed you to come help him with homework in his room. When you hadn’t answered fast enough, he began to spam you with angry emojis.

He was acting like a brat, but that was his version of begging. He was always struggling in his classes, and your tutoring usually helped; you couldn’t fault him for wanting to improve his grades. And so, ignoring everything you had to do, you decided to help him. After all, isn’t that what being a good friend is all about?

You stood up, tossing your backpack on again. If you factored your study session into your schedule, that would put you at 4 hours of sleep tops. No, the likelihood it would only take an hour was slim; probably 3.5 hours of sleep. Another text-- make that two-- made your D.D.D. buzz again; both demanding you reply, the second saying you didn’t have a choice in whether to help. ...Maybe 2.5 hours.

Your first knock on his door was met with silence, and you briefly considered leaving to do your own homework. But no-- you came to help, you should help.

“Mammon?” You tried again, knocking louder.

“Finally! Get in here already!” He yelled through the door.

Mammon was on his couch, backpack tossed a good ways away from him. Though he had a textbook on his coffee table, and plenty of papers scattered across the surface, he didn’t seem to be working on anything specific. It didn’t help that he was upside-down on his couch; his legs thrown over the back cushion and head hanging off the front. It wasn’t the typical doing-homework pose, but far be it from you to tell what Mammon was thinking.

“You sure took your time!” He tossed his D.D.D. to the side, pointing an accusing finger in your direction.

“I walked straight here when I got your texts.”

“Yeah, well, you should already know when I want ya here.” He huffed, then practically fell off the couch amidst his panicked backpedaling. “Not-- Not that I want ya here, I mean! The Great Mammon doesn’t want some human around, crampin’ his style! I just--!” He rolled into a normal sitting position, the redness in his face no longer the result of being upside-down. 

“You wanted my help with homework, right?” You tried to throw him a life raft, but it went right over his head.

“What? Homework? We had homework!?” He asked, now looking frazzled for a different reason. You took a deep breath, briefly wondering how this scatterbrain remembered to put pants on every morning.

“Mammon, why did you ask me to come over?” You finally asked, trying to get him back on track.

“I asked… oh! Yeah! I uh…” He glanced at his table, a mess of papers that he hadn’t looked at since dumping them out of his folder. He looked back up at you expectantly. “Mc, do you have any money?”

...Oh, so that’s what this was about. It was hard not to feel disappointed that he had lied to get you here, but at least he got right to the point. “Yeah, sure, what happ-- ah, whatever. How much do you need?” 

You reached for your wallet, hoping to just fork over the grimm and go back to what you were doing. He hadn’t asked in a while, so this was probably legit. Probably. He would promise to pay it back, with every intention of doing so, and then forget to, or run into more debt. It was a vicious cycle; you were happy to not be a part of it. Well, at least it was nice while it lasted.

“What? No, that’s not-- ya shouldn’t be handin’ out money like that!” Mammon nagged, effectively freezing your hand in midair. If he didn’t want money, why was he asking? “You don’t needta give your stuff away to people just ‘cause they ask, that’s how people take advantage of ya!”

At first, his behavior didn’t make sense, but the gears started turning on what was going on. You shoved your wallet back into place, trying not to sound as exhausted as you felt. “Is this because of Lucifer?”

“Lucifer?” He echoed, confused.

“You know, his whole idea of giving you guys a week to…” You gestured vaguely, not wanting to say ‘teach me to sin’ for multiple reasons; “uh, talk to me?”

“Whaddya mean Lucifer?” He sounded affronted at the thought. “It was MY idea!” He huffed, crossing his arms.

“You thought of this?” It was surprising, but you felt inclined to believe him. He didn’t like to admit that he cared; he wouldn’t suddenly lie about being worried enough to bring it up to his brothers. Either way, as sweet as it was, good intentions wouldn’t save your grades. But maybe if he had gotten you into this mess, he could get you out of it. At the very least, he might be able to get you out of today’s lecture. “Mammon, I really appreciate it, but I don’t have time to--”

“Exactly! Ya never have time!” He launched up off the couch, flinging his arms out dramatically as he spoke. “You’re always givin’ it away to everybody else! Just like your stuff, and your grimm! Do ya ever even spend anythin’ on yourself?” 

“Of course I do.” You replied easily. He made it seem as if you were emptying your pockets for anyone who asked. You weren’t some human piggy bank, you bought yourself stuff all the time.

“Oh yeah? When’s the last time ya bought somethin’ for yourself, then? And food doesn’t count! Neither does stuff ya need for school, or takin’ care of yourself. When’s the last time ya bought something just ‘cause ya wanted it?” He asked, hands on his hips.

“I, uh…” That was a lot of rules. You tried to flip back in your mind. You weren’t exactly a big spender; certainly not since you’d arrived in the Devildom with so little time to work for extra cash. To Mammon’s point, you could only think of things you bought out of necessity. A snack when you didn’t have time for lunch. A new pair of shoes when yours were falling apart. Some toiletries when you needed them. A new uniform when your jacket was torn beyond repair, and you didn’t want to bother anyone about it.

“But you’re always buyin’ stuff for others!” Mammon let your thoughts wander enough to make his point, but he had to cut in eventually. “Remember how I usedta ask for money all the time?” 

“I mean-- it’s been a while.” It was a meager attempt at defense, but it was true. You couldn’t remember the last time he came to your door, brown-nosing his way into your pockets.

“Yeah, well, when ya first got here, you gave your grimm away freely, always buyin’ stuff for people-- so I thought ya had a buncha money. Then I heard Lucifer sayin’ ya don’t have much, and you were sayin’ ya wanted to save some, so I stopped askin’! But nobody else knows, so they keep askin’, and you keep givin’ it to ‘em! I know you don’t have stuff to be givin’ away either, I’ve been through--” He caught himself before he admitted it out loud, but you were well aware of the fact that Mammon had rooted through your stuff at the beginning. He had stopped at this point… you hoped. “No one here wants to take advantage of ya, but they don’t know they’re doin’ it. Ya gotta tell people not to ask for so much-- I mean, I’m the avatar of greed, and I feel bad takin’ your stuff! I bet the others would feel the same!” 

It was hard to tell whether he cared more about your financial situation or about making his brothers feel guilty. “I think--”

“Don’t even get me started about your time!” Mammon didn’t let you get a word in edgewise, advancing towards you as he ranted. He didn’t realize he was doing it; the action a subconscious result of his rising emotions. You took a few steps back, but soon bumped into furniture and had to stop. “You’re always busy, and ya got tons’a homework, but ya never say no when people ask for help! Do ya even have time to be here right now? Or do ya have somethin’ you could be doin’ instead?” 

It was a fair point, but hard to take from the one who’d brought you here. “It’s fine, I like to help out.”

“Help yourself out!” This was the second time within 24 hours that you’d gotten chewed out for not taking proper care of yourself. There was a familiar churning in your gut-- a leaden mixture of guilt and anxiety. Not to mention a dash of adrenaline from being within range of an angry demon. That last one happened a lot around here, though. “Try sayin’ no to people once in awhile! You stretch yourself too thin and eventually there’s gonna be nothin’ left!”

Mammon finally took a breath, letting his shoulders slump as he exhaled. He averted his eyes, his voice much softer when he next spoke. “Besides… I miss ya, Mc. You keep givin’ away your time, and overworkin’ yourself, and all of a sudden… I never see ya anymore.” 

His gaze flitted back to your face, and it finally dawned on him just how close he’d gotten. He was nearly pinning you against his pool table at this point. His face turned bright red, and he leapt backwards, crossing his arms to maintain his pride. “A-Anyway! You don’t owe anyone anything. So stop acting like it.”

“I don’t act like--”

“Oi, and don’t interrupt the Great Mammon!”

You rolled your eyes, but conceded. He had been difficult from his very first text tonight, it was probably easier to just humor him at this point.

“Ya play therapist for the house all the time. Ya mediate fights, listen to people’s problems, give out advice when you’re asked-- even when ya don’t know what to say. Maybe it’s about time ya let us know when ya aren’t up to it. I mean, no one's gonna fault ya for takin’ a vacation day.” It wasn’t a perfect metaphor, but it conveyed his point well enough. “The house has been a lot calmer since ya got here. Everybody knows it-- you do too, dontcha?” 

It was true that you’d been complimented on your demon-wrangling skills by many people before. ...Including the brothers, oftentimes. “Well, yeah, but you guys should always be able to come to me. I want to be there for you.”

“Well I wanna be there for you, too!” Mammon blurted, looking desperate. Well, until he realized what he said, his expression then switching to panic as he frantically backpedaled. “I mean-- we do! T-They do! Or-- everyone else does, but I-I’ve got better stuff to… Ah, what am I sayin’? We all wanna be there for ya, Mc. But that means when ya have a hard day, and we ask if ya have time... ya gotta say no. How would you feel, if ya learned that we all forced ourselves to be around ya?”

A pang of guilt shot through your chest. “It isn’t like that; you guys aren’t a burden. I want to help--”

“Yeah, and I wanna sell Levi’s expensive shut-in stuff for extra cash, but sometimes ya gotta think about what ya wanna do versus what ya can do. I’m not very… I mean, I dunno about uh, emotions and... all that, but…” Suddenly Mammon’s tsundere thing made a lot of sense; he was a lot better at denial than candor. “Well, ya can’t help us if ya can’t help yourself!”

Again, he had a point. This time he wasn’t being a hypocrite, so it made it harder to come up with a rebuttal. “Everyone has bad days, I don’t have to shut people out whenever I’m not at one hundred percent.”

“Man, you sure are lucky Lucifer has a soft spot for ya. All this back talk would get me in hot water.” Mammon sighed. “Just listen to me for once, wouldja?”

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. He chose to interpret it as a yes.

“I know ya wanna have some free time. And I know ya wanna keep some of your money saved up, whatever it’s for. Well… If sayin’ no is hard for ya, maybe we can start ya off with a test drive.”

“A… test drive...?” Nope, he lost you.

“Y’see, I’ll take the fall tonight. I’m gonna say we’re studyin’. Or that I’m still givin’ ya my peace. But… go back to your room, do whatcha want. Don’t matter what-- homework, sleepin’, whatever. Just don’t let anyone take it from ya. Matter’a fact, if someone asks for ya: practice sayin’ no. If ya gotta give ‘em a reason, tell ‘em it’s my fault.” 

“You sure?” He was essentially offering to be your guard dog for the night, which was quite a monumental task-- especially since people already assumed Mammon was at fault for things in general, and wouldn’t hesitate to take their anger out on him.

“Yeah, yeah; just don’t go and think I’m gonna keep doin’ this forever! Ya gotta learn to say no on your own, without me havin’ to do it for you all the time! I got goldie to worry about, I don’t need another credit card overspendin’ itself and-- w-well, I just don’t wanna haveta deal with it if ya run outta money and come cryin’ to-- oi!” You wrapped him in a hug, able to feel the shock run up his spine at your sign of gratitude. 

“I-I toldja, I ain’t doin’ it for you!” Mammon protested, but near instantly caved; stealing the chance to hug you back. He puffed out a defeated breath, adding, “I’m gonna watch out for ya human, I mean it. I wanna make sure you can keep gettin’ better, so… If ya ever gotta turn someone down in the future, or tell ‘em no for any reason, and ya can’t bring yourself to do it… You can always tell ‘em it’s on me. I’m your first man, you can always depend on me to help ya out.”

“Thank you, really.” He held you for just a beat longer before he relented, switching back to his brusque demeanor the moment he let go. 

“Yeah, yeah, keep thankin’ me and you’re gonna waste all your free time before it even starts. Get outta here already! I got stuff to do too, y’know.” He waved you off, but he was refusing eye contact for a reason.

Leaving Mammon’s room, your steps felt light, and a rush of warmth flooded your chest as you recalled his praise. Sure, it was followed by nagging, or saying it wasn’t always good for you-- but it was definitely nice to hear that the brothers really did think of you as their confidant. 

You stood a little taller; almost as if you felt a sense of pride.

[gretelsfifthcousin]

Nightmare Infinitum

(Transcribed directly from the game, errors included.)

Coming from a poor rural village, Andersson clawed his way to the top and finally found success as a merchant with his own shop in the city. One day like any other, he returned home from sorting his inventory and lay his tired body in bed for a good night’s sleep. However, after comfortably drifting into a dream, a force of evil steps in to seize an opportunity.

Transcript under cut.

Andersson: Phew… Just gotta shift this batch of goods and I’ll be raking it in.

Time’s getting on, better get home and get to bed.

Log: Andersson returns from stocking his inventory. It’s already late, so he heads toward home to sleep.

-

Andersson’s Home: Property owned by Andersson, located at the edge of the city.

Andersson: Finally home.

*Yawn*...

Hopefully I’ll sleep like a baby tonight.

(Andersson puts out a fire lamp, muttering to himself, and then drifts into a silent slumber)

Blank: …...

Andersson: Wha… Where am I?

Vincent: Andersson! Move it! They’ve got us surrounded!

Andersson: Vincent? Where’d you come from? And who are ‘they’?

Vincent: Hans, Bill, Carlsson and their lot! They’re gonna take your property!

Andersson: But why? ...They’re my friends!

Vincent: Yeah, they used to be! ‘Til you got rich.

But now? How can those peasants possibly be friends with a hotshot like you? You’re all boys from the same poor village, but somehow only you struck it rich?

You think you’re helping them with your charity? In their eyes, your donations are just pity handouts.

Look into their eyes. Jealousy, mockery, hate. These aren’t the eyes of friends.

It’s too late! There’s no escape.

Andersson: No-one is getting… a single penny from me!

-

Hesitant Friend: (default Common Enemies description)

Greedy Friend: Their avarice has warped them into something near-unparalleled in power.

(After losing against a Greedy Friend enemy, Andersson wakes up)

Andersson: A dream? ...What an awful dream.

But, their faces were so real…

I’m probably overworked and exhausted. Perhaps I should take some time out, spend a few days back in my old hometown in the north.

Log: Haunted by his recent nightmare, Andersson decides to visit his hometown to relax for a few days.

(If you interact with Andersson’s Home after this)

Blank: ……

-

Neighborhood Residence: Slightly rundown homes where the old people of the village live.

Friendly Villager: Andersson? Andersson! It’s been so long! I hardly recognize you!

Andersson: Long time no see…

Friendly Villager: Bill and the others said you’ve made a killing in town!

Andersson: No no, they’re exaggerating.

-

Old Country Home: The place Andersson grew up. It’s very peaceful here.

Andersson: Maybe I’m paranoid, but the villagers seem to be looking at me funny.

Nevermind, it’s not often I have the chance to come back home. Time for a well-deserved rest.

Blank: ……

Andersson: What’s happened? Didn’t I already make it home?

Vincent: Huh? What on earth are you talking about? You need to cross the valley. Be careful out there, someone’s set a trap.

They’re fond of solitary wandering piggy banks like yourself.

Andersson: The prisms on those tracks might keep me safe for a while, I just need to get home and I’ll be safe.

Log: In his dream, Andersson is only moments from his hometown but must traverse a valley laden with cannons set to trap him. He must use the prisms to deflect the shots back at the cannon to destroy them.

-

Motion Activated Cannon: Automatically fires cannon balls at targets in front of it. Careful, stay out of its range of fire.

(If you are hit by a cannon ball, you’ll be transported back to the starting point)

Arcane Prism: A prism built by a mysterious force, capable of bouncing back artillery fire and destroying the cannon.

-

Old Country Home?: The place Andersson grew up. It’s very peaceful here.

(Interacting with the Old Country Home causes you to be surrounded by cannons)

Vincent: Think you’ll be safe once you’re home? That’s very naive.

Everyone wants your riches for themselves, Andersson.

There’s no escape.

Andersson: No… no!

(He wakes up)

Andersson: It’s not safe here, everyone’s out to get me!

I have to hide… Somewhere no-one will find me…

The woods outside the village, I’ll hide there!

-

Cabin: It’s not known who built the cabin, but it seems to have been empty for many years.

Andersson: No-one will find me here!

(A sense of relief washes over Andersson and he falls unconscious onto his bed.)

Blank: ……

Vincent: Andersson! Snap out of it!

Look around! The villagers have got you surrounded!

Andersson: But why!? I’ve been hiding out here. Why are they after me?

Vincent: For your money, obviously! Andersson, if you don’t want them to steal your money, then…

Andersson: You must strike first…

Vincent: Go on! Eradicate them all! Then no-one can take your riches!

And once they’re out of the way… what’s theirs will be yours, too.

Log: In his dream, Andersson is once again surrounded by «ill-intentioned» villagers. He must use the cannons to eradicate them.

-

Cannon: Cannons can destroy obstacles, set foliage on fire, kill demons and destroy some structures.

Travel Tent: A makeshift tent, the voices of villagers are coming from inside it.

(All enemies within Travel Tent enemy camps are common tier level 1)

(After defeating the last enemy camp at the northwest part of the map, Andersson wakes up)

Andersson: Mine… It’s all mine…

Vincent: Wrath, greed, selfishness… Mortal willpower is so very fragile.

(Vincent’s appearance shifts, his body morphing and contorting, revealing his true form)

Ezizh: Andersson, listen to me. There is still someone who stands in your way. She’s hiding deep in the woods, just waiting to take everything away from you.

Andersson: Who…? I’ll kill her!

Ezizh: A sinister pink-haired she-devil. Once you’re rid of her, you’ll be safe again.

Thank you for allowing me to sample such a delectable nightmare. As a token of my appreciation, I shall grant you my strength. Take it.

Ezizh - Lord of Nightmares joins the team.

Andersson: Yes! ...Kill!

-

Tasi’s cabin: The pink-haired she-devil is hiding inside.

(Once you interact with the Cabin it will be transformed into a Chief Enemies camp)

Tasi: (default Chief Enemies description)

(When you win)

Ezizh: Think you can escape? You insignificant speck!

Sooner or later, you’ll be mine.