#that can suck the joy out of things and it just doesn't feel necessary all the time

[theghostofashton]

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[untitledmemes]

Hazbin Hotel Prompts

Part III An assortment of prompts taken from the series Hazbin Hotel on Amazon Prime. Adjust as necessary to fit pronoun and/or descriptor. In case of Multimuse, don't forget to specify which one/s. Reblog, please do not repost or add.

“ I know you don't want to, but we need every advantage we can get. ”

“ You got daddy issues? ”

“ I'd like to meet the big dick incharge. ”

“ Who am I kidding? This sucks! ”

“ Where are you these days? ”

“ You know I haven't been watching much TV lately. Scrambles the brain. ”

“ Anything in my power is yours for the asking. ”

“ Wait. You're inviting me over? ”

“ It's showtime! ”

“ Look how much you haven't grown! Still fun sized. ”

“ It's nice to finally put a face to the name. ”

“ You are much shorter in real life. ”

“ You like girls? So do I! We have so much in common! ”

“ Who needs a busboy now that you've got the chef? ”

“ I'll rig the game for you because I'm the ref. ”

“ I'm truly honored that we built such a bond. ”

“ It's a little funny, you can almost call me dad. ”

“ They say when you're looking for assistance, it's smart to pick the path of least resistance. ”

“ Sadly there are times when a birth parent is a dud. ”

“ I know you were all waiting for me! ”

“ Why is everybody gawking? Is it cuz I'm adorable? ”

“ Hey, watch it, tall dark and creepy. ”

“ You gotta warn a girl when she's in mixed company. ”

“ Where can a girl get a drink around here? ”

“ Don't tell me you're not happy to see me. You might hurt my feelings. ”

“ All you could hear was screams. ”

“ Underneath it all, he's a total sweetie. ”

“ Who in their right mind would cross me? ”

“ Big talk for someone who's also on a leash. ”

“ These are our people. I have to try. ”

“ You build something nice, you invite people in and offer them everything, and they just bring violence and chaos to your doorstep. ”

“ It doesn't matter how well intentioned you are, they're always going to disappoint you. ”

“ It's time I remind everyone why I am here. ”

“ You don't actually give a shit about this tacky place, do ya? ”

“ They didn't listen to me, they wouldn't listen to you. ”

“ I won't lose it all again. ”

“ I'll shelter and adore you more than anything. ”

“ It's the view I had of you that showed me dreams can be worth fighting for. ”

“ Looks like the apple doesn't fall far. ”

“ Whatever could be the problem, my dear? ”

“ I wish I could come, sweetie, but I have that thing... ”

“ You been texting me depressing shit all day, figured we could tear shit up like old times. ”

“ Well, if it isn't my arch-nemesis. Have you come to meet your fate in battle? ”

“ Are you sure you're in the right place? Because I think you might be a little lost. ”

“ I'm sorry you can't stay. ”

“ I'm handling this shit right now. ”

“ Don't fucking shush me, bitch. ”

“ I want you to do whatever you need to do to keep this problem from getting worse. ”

“ You sure fucked up, didn't you? ”

“ If you have actual evidence, then show it already. ”

“ Take one of these and you won't be worrying about nothing. ”

“ I just thought you were better than that. ”

“ I think you're done, tiny. ”

“ I was thinking maybe, um, you'd wanna do... a sex with me? ”

“ I just want a taste. ”

“ I may have to put up with your bullshit, but you ain't fucking with any of my friends. ”

“ It's not as simple as you think. Not everything is spelled in ink. ”

“ Guess the cat's out of the bag. ”

“ I wanted to save you the anguish it takes to do what was required. ”

“ If hell is forever, then heaven must be a lie. ”

“ Don't you act all high and mighty. ”

“ How can I bring joy when I now know we are bringing misery to thousands of innocent people? ”

“ I couldn't bear to see you suffer that fate. ”

[the-govern]

Dream is seven when he first runs into Wilbur. A nine year old who has far too much leg in proportion to his body, who doesn't talk all too much either. It confuses him greatly because it is not the silence that portrays a certain shyness or anxiousness, but runs deeper. A silence that has Dream feeling uncomfortable like the older was sucking out the joy in the air just from simply existing. They only bump into each other now and then. Only twice throughout the years do they really interact with each other when they live in the same town and even that’s not much of anything.

The first was when they headed to the water well to fill their bucket to water their crops their family holds in their small backyards. Dream attempts to make idle conversation to pass the time. So, logically, the first thing he asks the older kid is how he’s doing as a formality. And then following, asks about how his brother is faring.

Dream has heard the news from his mother that Wilbur's sibling has fallen terribly ill. She saw it with her own two eyes too, tending to the young chap herself– the only lady in town who had any knowledge in medicine. She had said that his skin was awfully pale, nearly corpse-like even with the insane fever that ran through his body. And of course at a mere seven years old, Dream had no other reaction to give other than basic sympathy. As much as a seven year old could at that age anyways.

Wilbur, in response, snaps back like an angry turtle. He gives him a sharp, "It is none of your business." His words are sharper than the blade Dream sliced himself with just about a year ago. It was when he attempted to peel an apple in one long strip like his father had. Dream is taken aback by the sudden outburst but before he can bite back, Wilbur has turned on his heel and stalked off with his head held up high.

Absolute bastard, Dream thinks. He scowls to himself (though to Wilbur too even if he’s not here anymore). As he takes his bucket off the hook, the water sloshes and some spills onto his tunic. The fabric clings to his skin but the deeper scowl on his face is caused by the slight annoyance. It will dry before sundown, so Dream has no complaints.

Really, even if it is a possibility he may get a scolding for returning late, Dream takes that chance and loiters around the well for longer than necessary. The purpose being to avoid the chance of running into Wilbur on the journey back. His seven year old mind concludes that the other kid, though as pretty as he may be, holds nothing but cruelty and meanness in whatever heart he has. May he even have any heart. Probably not.

The second time Dream bumps into him is when he is thirteen and Wilbur is fourteen, not yet fifteen. Not until a month later at least. This time it is during his father’s funeral, late in the evening. The setting sun still bares down warmly on his neck as the crowd walks to the open field.

The only reason why Wilbur is even here is because the entire town is. Dream would just prefer it if it was just his mother and cat burying his father really. Though his mother said that the rest of the town folk just wanted to pay their respect for the man– a well known and well liked shopkeeper and innkeeper. Dream thinks that is stupid and that this occasion should be kept private. This was a funeral, place of mourning and remembrance (or at least that's what his mother told him when he attended his first funeral a few years back.) It is not just some…thing to gawk at.

Honestly it is not much of an interaction. At most they stand next to each other when the casket is lowered into the ground, Wilbur inclines his head towards Dream as if to say sorry, to give his sympathy. Dream pointedly looks away at his shoes. They are buffed and clean to appear presentable and a week prior they would’ve been scuffed and dirtied with mud and sand. He doesn’t like how they look, feeling the corners of his lips tug down further.

That is that. No more, no less.

[deijiyong]

Chapter Eight: Kiss Me

Navigation Previous chapter | Story Masterlist | Next chapter Chapter word count 3,050 words. Chapter warnings/tags return of minghao and daniel not trusting jungkook to dress himself, jimin jealous?, jimin demanding jungkook accept his kiss reward, jungkook feeling sad after, yugyeom is clingy with jungkook, jimin acts a little out of character

Jungkook stands in front of Minghao's open closet as his roommate goes through his clothes looking for something suitable for him to wear to a party. He huffs as he looks at Daniel from where he's sitting at the opening of his top bunk from the ladder, "Is this really necessary? I'm just going to hang out with friends."

"That's the perfect time to pick up girls," Minghao explains as he gauges a shirt to Jungkook's body. "Besides, looking good should be the standard, not an accident."

"Shoes are the only thing that matters, if you ask me," Daniel chimes in.

"No one did," Minghao shoots back.

He releases a breath when Minghao pushes a pair of black cargo joggers into his arms with a layered black on black shirt set. He raises a brow at the fully black outfit, but sets the clothes on his bed and goes about changing anyway. They always said black is the warmest of any color and with the temperature dropping outside at night; he wouldn't argue.

"Your video is looking good," Daniel comments when he pulls off his shirt, "The song you picked is good too. What made you decide on that song?"

Jungkook shrugs while scratching his stomach, "It fits his performance."

"That's pretty confident," Minghao adds. "If his performance turns out poorly, any and all changes you made to it could be pointed out as to why he failed."

"Hoseok doesn't fail," Jungkook squares his shoulders. "He's the hip-hop departments' joy. And," he smiles, "I'm confident in my choice." When he pulls on the pants, he rubs his hands over the shirt as if he's dusting himself off. It's not a bad look, given his long hair. He looks to his two roommates to find Minghao nodding while Daniel points vaguely in the direction of his closet, "You can use the same shoes as last time or there's a pair of white sneakers in there with black ankles. Those will look good too."

Given that he was going to a party, white kicks were not high on his list, so he reached in for the Nikes he wore the first time. By the time he is standing, there's a knock on the door. It's still too early to be Taehyung, so he opens it wide and almost chokes when he finds Jimin standing there. "Uh, is something wrong?"

"Are you going out?"

Jungkook feels self-conscious as he rubs his arms over the long sleeves of the shirt he's wearing. He licks his lips as he takes in Jimin's sweats that he knows are hiding the spandex shorts he wears while he practices. "Yeah, uhm, with Tae actually. He invited me the other day. He didn't tell you?"

"He doesn't tell me everything," Jimin frowns.

Jungkook slides his hands into the pockets of the joggers he wears, "How is practice going?"

Jimin looks down at himself as if he can see his practice clothes through them. He sucks on his lip before he turns his eyes up to Jungkook once more, "Good. It's going good." His eyes move past where they stand to take in his roommates. Jimin lifts his hands to greet them before he looks back at Jungkook, "Well, sorry for bothering you."

Jungkook looks back at his friends then steps out into the hallway and closes the door behind him. He leans back against the door when it is closed and crosses his arms over his chest, "Did you need something?"

"No," Jimin mutters as he looks over Jungkook's body.

He pushes forward from the door and grabs his RA's hand, "Are you sure?"

Jimin's eyes turn to their joined hands, taking in just how big the freshman's hands are compared to his while they stand there.

"If you finish practice early," Jungkook coughs, swinging their joined hands, "You should stop by the party and unwind. I'm sure we'll be there most of the night."

"Curfew," Jimin utters, eyes now on Jungkook's dark browns.

"I guess you'll have to come and make sure I get back on time."

The RA brushes back his blue locks with his free hand, putting some power behind his eyes as he looks at Jungkook, "Or I can lock you out to sleep in the cold."

"Only if you nurse me better afterward."

"Hmm," Jimin seems to think on it. His eyes make another sweep over Jungkook's body as he steps closer. His face is so close that Jungkook feels his heart stutter as he finds the RA's gray eyes. He had just been this close to Yugyeom the other day, so close he could see his friend's every imperfection, but it didn't affect him like looking at Jimin this close up did. From what he could tell, Jimin's skin is as smooth and blemish-free as a baby's butt and he wants to reach out and touch his cheeks. "Maybe I should punish you instead of nursing you."

Interest burns in Jungkook's gut as he leans into Jimin, "Oh? What does Jimin do with bad kids who don't listen to him?"

There's a smirk growing over Jimin's plump lips, his eyes focused on Jungkook's own smile as he goes to lean in; only to stop. He pulls away and turns his head when a door opens down the hall. A frown pulls his lips down and he steps back, "I'm late."

"Huh?" Jungkook turns and finds Taehyung coming out of the RAs' room down the hall. He looks back to Jimin who's already turning to leave. He debates calling out to him, but Tae stopping in front of him silences his choice.

"Are we in sync? We came out at the same time."

Jungkook smiles and wraps an arm over his friend's shoulders. "We're both ready to party, I guess."

Jungkook is staring into an empty red solo cup that Yoongi had handed him an hour ago. When he had walked away drunk off his ass and falling on anyone willing to catch him, JK hadn't thought anything of it. He hadn't said anything when the blonde had accidentally sat in his lap upon his return, nor when he handed him the empty solo cup. He did worry, however, when Yoongi disappeared into the crowd again. His eyes are constantly tracing over the crowd around him even though Taehyung has told him not to worry countless times since the blonde left. He couldn't help feeling a little protective of Yoongi since what happened with Joon the first night he had met him.

Taehyung pulls the empty cup from his hands and shakes his head, "Was it always empty?"

"Yeah," Jungkook confirms. "He should probably go to his room."

"I already tried that," Tae sighs. "Just let him be."

When his eyes spot Joon, the tall upperclassman still has his mullet minus the lavender pieces at the back of his neck. He's standing against a wall with a circle of girls around him as he drinks from the cup in his hand. It has Jungkook tapping his hand against Tae's thigh. "Joon is here."

Taehyung's eyes search the room until he lands on the area where JK's eyes are focused. He stands immediately and looks around the crowd, "Dammit Yoongs." He paces for a moment before he looks down at JK, "Stay here. I have to go find him before he reaches Joon or all hell could break loose."

"Yeah," Jungkook mutters as he looks for Yoongi too. In his search for their missing friend, his eyes land on another friend. Yugyeom is off to the side talking with someone about the same height as him. He's got his hand holding a red cup hiding his mouth as the stranger talks to him. Yugyeom doesn't seem interested in the stranger when his eyes find JK watching him. It gives his friend an excuse, he's sure, to approach where he sits. Yugyeom collapses into the cushion next to him as he leans on JK's side.

"He wouldn't stop talking about banking like it was a personality trait," his friend complains.

Jungkook smiles and pats the top of his friend's head.

Yugyeom pushes himself closer to him, a dreamy look in his eyes as he stares up the length of Jungkook's nose. He's inching closer to the point that anyone could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Curfew," a voice says.

Jungkook turns away from Yugyeom to find Jimin standing there. He's got a long coat closed tightly around his frame and his arms crossed over his stomach as he looks down at JK. He would stand if Jimin wasn't, once again, between his thighs. He opens his mouth as he looks over his sweaty RA, "It's curfew already?"

Jimin makes a show of checking the time on his phone, "Close enough."

Jungkook sighs and untangles himself from Yugyeom who whines and pulls at his shirt. He sighs and pushes his hands away, "I have to go."

"Don't go," Yugyeom whines louder. "I don't know where Bam is."

Jimin pulls JK to his side with an arm around his waist, "You'll be fine."

Jungkook wants to say something to that, but the look Jimin has on his face keeps him quiet. He was in RA mode, eyes full of anger as he glared down at Yugyeom. "I'll call Hobi to pick you up," is what he hears before Jimin pulls him from the main room in Cheongdam-dong. He's not sure why Jimin is mad, but he gets the feeling that he's upset his RA to some degree and it worries him. Jimin's hold on his waist as he drags him all the way back to Itaewon is strong; the trip is quiet. Jungkook is sure that his RA will release him once they're inside, but his hand shifts to where he's holding the front of Jungkook's shirt as he drags him down the second-floor hallway to the door with his and Taehyung's names in bubble letters over the front. Jimin opens the door and pushes him inside.

Unlike the last time Jungkook had seen it, the room was free and clear of the nuisance that was Taehyung's glitter-filled letter. He doesn't have much time to admire it when Jimin is backing him up to his side of the room, JK's legs buckling when he is up against the RA's black and gold bed. "What are you-"

Jimin climbs into his lap after he throws off the jacket over his body, his thighs trapping Jungkook's own, "You said you wanted a kiss."

Even though he reaches out to hold Jimin's waist, he leans away from the RA, "You don't have to. I just suggested it since you wouldn't go on a date with me."

Jimin leans into him, closing the space that Jungkook had added when he leaned away. His small hands wrap around the back of JK's neck and pull him forward. He can feel the upperclassmen's breath on his lips from how close they are, a strong smell of mint pulling his eyes to his plump pink lips. "I don't date," Jimin finally speaks.

Jungkook pulls his face from Jimin's hold, "Don't date?"

"I'm always disappointed in the end, so what is the point?" Jimin pulls Jungkook back up to their original position as he adjusts himself on top of Jungkook's lap, "It's nice to be able to brush someone off if the sex is bad."

He turns his face away without putting any space between them as he had previously. Instead, he sighs, "Maybe we shouldn't do this then. I wouldn't want to disappoint you."

"It's just a kiss, JK," Jimin runs his lips over Jungkook's cheek. "It's supposed to be fun."

"How is disappointing you fun?"

Jimin has made it down to his neck, he's leaving open mouth kisses there as his hands run down Jungkook's back. He knew his RA was a bit impatient, but he couldn't help but wonder what drove him to be that way. He runs his hands down Jimin's back to the swell of his ass as he waits for an answer. His fingers dig into the flesh of his RA's ass when Jimin sucks hard on a spot between his neck and shoulder, earning a breathy laugh in response.

"Jimin."

His RA leans back, his lips a pretty red from the kisses and sucking on his neck. "Kiss me."

Jungkook cups Jimin's cheek with his hand, rubbing his thumb into the apple of it that's a pretty pink. He lets his thumb move to trace over the bottom plush lip as he stares at them.

"Come on, JK. Kiss me, please."

A series of chimes sound from the coat Jimin had tossed to the floor before he climbed into Jungkook's lap. Jimin ignores them, too focused on what he's requested to care about a few messages from some unknown party. It's only when his phone starts to ring that he pulls away with a sigh. Jimin stands and manhandles his coat until he pulls the silver phone from one of the pockets to answer the call. "What is it, Tae?"

Jungkook leans back on his hands as he watches Jimin pace around the room as he listens to whatever his roommate is saying.

"Jungkook is missing?" Jimin's eyes find him on the bed, a soft downturn to his lips as he turns away again, "He's at Itaewon. I made sure to grab him before curfew."

Taehyung's voice is no longer panicked from what JK can hear as he tries to speak over the music at the party.

"Hmm? No, Can you call Hobi to pick him up? I forgot."

Jungkook sits up at that. He had forgotten about Yugyeom being drunk given the turn of events. Jimin seems to feel the crisis and holds a hand out to calm him down.

"Can you stay with him until Hobi gets there? Jungkook would probably feel better knowing one of us was with him." He laughs and switches the ear his phone is pressed to, "It's too early for you to leave anyway. Hm? I won't wait up then. Have fun."

Jungkook is in awe with how fast Jimin can drop his phone and get back into the earlier mood. His eyes hooded as he crawled back into Jungkook's lap, settling when their crotches were perfectly aligned with each other. He cannot help but rest his hands back on Jimin's ass as the RA leans into him once more. This time he holds his position, "You never answered my question."

"You won't disappoint me," Jimin whispers against his lips. "Quit stalling."

A smirk tugs at his lips, "How will you compensate me if you're wrong?"

"Jungkook," Jimin huffs.

"Alright, alright," he laughs, running his hands up from Jimin's lower back to his neck. He slides his fingers into the RA's hair as he presses his lips to Jimin's puffy ones. He hadn't been sure what to expect, he couldn't help but run his tongue along Jimin's lips until he opened them enough to slip his tongue inside. The cute sound Jimin makes when he returns his kisses has Jungkook smiling into them.

It has to be payback, Jungkook decides when Jimin rocks his hips into JK's and earns a groan from deep in his throat. Jimin's eyes are blown out to a deep black when he pulls away, watching as his RA chases after his lips. A pout pushes those red plump lips out in dismay as Jimin looks up at him through his eyelashes.

"I told you that you wouldn't disappoint me," Jimin whines.

Jungkook pulls at the small hairs on Jimin's neck as he leans back some more. He was sure without a doubt in his being, that Jimin could feel his semi. He lets his hands run down the back of Jimin's body before he rests them on the bed next to Jimin's thighs, "You don't owe me now," he smiles; a bit regretful. "I should go."

Jimin grabs him around his biceps, "You don't have to."

It's a bitter feeling in his stomach as he thinks about how this moment could only happen because Jimin owed him something. The RA probably would have never even considered it if he hadn't helped Hoseok out with his dance practices. It was his first real kiss, but instead of feeling happy about it like he had expected to - he feels down.

Jimin slides off his lap and pulls at his hand as he gets comfortable against his pillows. "Stay for a while and talk with me. I won't be able to sleep until 2 AM."

Jungkook presses the heel of his hand into his right eye, his left hand still being held captive by Jimin as he pulls on it arbitrarily. He's just on the edge of giving in because even if he feels like this will all turn into a vivid daydream later down the road he wants to be here in this spot next to Jimin. "I'm tired," he complains before dropping his hand back to the bed.

"Just for a little while," Jimin urges.

"Fine," he complies as he allows the RA to pull him down in the spot at Jimin's side. He lays his head on Jimin's pillow which faintly smells of some flower, but it makes him relax into his position.

Jimin lays close to him, his eyes slowly returning to normal behind the contacts, "I'm sorry for being so pushy."

Jungkook pushes a blue hair out of Jimin's face before taking that same hand and yawning into it. Either way, the deed was done and no matter how he felt right now, he was glad it was Jimin that had been his first kiss. The RA didn't need to know his significance. He snuggles more into Jimin's bed, feeling his exhaustion from the day getting the better of him. "It's fine. I wouldn't want to owe a favor to an underclassman either."

Jimin's eyes widened, "You can- That's not what you really think, right?"

Jungkook eyes him lazily.

"We don't think of you like that, JK."

He blinks slowly, pushing his hand under his cheek against the pillow, "We?"

"Tae and I. We've only viewed you as our friend since Tae brought you to that party your first week at school."

Jungkook yawns into his hand before looking back at Jimin, "Then I made you feel awkward," he hypothesizes as his eyes get heavy. "I asked you stupid things like going on a date or kissing you. I'm sorry, Jimin."

He doesn't realize when he gets too tired to open his eyes again that Jimin is frowning at him. He doesn't see how Jimin takes his time to pull the blanket over them before he just stares at JK's sleeping face for a while.

©️Deijiyong, 2023.

[leogichidaa]

I've been thinking a lot about Dementors since I read Restitution - how they work, why they can't swallow Patronuses, where does the positive emotion go if they swallow it? Are they like a black hole?

Do you have any thoughts/HCs about that?

The Patronus thing really throws me. In PoA, when Remus describes the Patronus he calls it, "a kind of anti- dementor — a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the dementor." He proceeds to explain, "The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the dementor feeds upon — hope, happiness, the desire to survive — but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the dementors can’t hurt it."

And ok, I guess that sort of makes sense. The "anti-dementor" bit is interesting, and really the crux of this, but I'll circle back to that. Dementors are harmful to humans primarily because when they take the happiness and hope out of us we are left with the worst parts of ourselves: despair, guilt, anger, bitterness, etc. We are driven mad not only by the absence of joy but the presence of grief. Patronuses (Patroni?) don't feel pain and suffering, so they are not as impacted. I could buy that if the Patronus really did just function as a shield between you and the dementor to buy you enough time to escape.

But that isn't what a full fledged Patronus does. Dementors are repelled by the Patronus and that just...doesn't make any sense at all. They are repelled by their own food source? Wherefore? Add to that the fact that the Patronus is clearly connected to the soul of the human producing it (the form the Patronus takes, the fact that dark wizards with damaged souls cannot produce them) and I'm even more baffled. Dementors can eat whole human souls and you're telling me they can't feed on a Patronus?

My thought, really, is that jkr is inconsistent with this concept. At times, it seems like the dementors are really meant to feed off of despair, which would make a lot of things make way more sense. Remus says, "They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair." The dementors flocked to Azkaban originally because it was a place full of pain and horrible memories. It sure makes it seem like they feed on despair and draining happiness is a necessary process to get them what they really want, which is human suffering. But it's explicitly stated that they feed on hope and souls.

Anyway. The Patronus being the "anti-dementor" really does say to me "dementors are a black hole where joy and hope go to die". I don't know if Remus meant that literally or if he was just saying "this is the counter-spell/antidote", but dementors are clearly meant to symbolize the embodiment of despair. And that is a chilling thought, that despair eats happiness. Eats souls. Sucks the joy out of you and then that joy is just...gone. The dementors are rotting corpse-like things, they represent all your dreams and happiness decaying and disappearing into the pit of despair. Yikes.

So I understand symbolically why the Patronus repels the dementor. Because if there wasn't some way for hope to be strong enough overcome despair then that would be horrifically depressing. It doesn't make sense logistically, though, and I think it could be much better executed. I'm thinking about the Babadook and how in the end the woman had to feed the Babadook in order to keep it from destroying her. There should be some balance and harmony between despair and hope. They're not an either or thing, they have to coexist.

The black hole metaphor is interesting too though, because I am also fascinated by what is going on internally in dementors. We don't know, really, what's going on with black holes, but based on my limited understanding of science and the universe it's reasonable to believe that everything they suck in is still there, it still exists, it's just trapped by the gravitational force of the black hole. A black hole is (probably) full of light, but it appears dark because the light can't escape. And maybe dementors are like that too. Maybe all the happiness and hope and souls that the dementor sucks up does still exist, they're just trapped. Maybe if you could crack open a dementor somehow, it would be like a pinata and a bunch of warm, fuzzy feelings would shower out of it.

I've already said a whole bunch, so I'm going to try to reign myself in, but I do think dementors are so fascinating. Can they take a soul fragment out of Horcrux? Are dementors impossible to kill because they have souls in them and are essentially Horcruxes themselves? If you stab them with basilisk venom do they die? Do dementors eat ghosts (I think yes)? I feel like they would be attracted to places where children gather, because children seem to me to be the ideal feeding source (full of hope and wonder, intact souls, easy prey). Children's hospitals must be battling dementor infestations all the time. Why can't muggles see them? Muggles can see other magical creatures, why are dementors invisible to them? Or maybe that's the wrong question. Maybe the question is: why can wizards see them? Fudge tells the Prime Minister in HBP the dementors are breeding. How the fuck...

[karofsky]

I'm a big internalizer, because it's what works for me. Usually, things like this are reserved for one of the thousands of journals I frequent, but since I've been a bit wordier publicly this year, it's probably fitting I share this here. I also know that one of my resolutions next year is to be a bit more controlled with what I share-- not that I think sharing is a bad thing, but I've been a bit... explosive with my emotions this year, and while it can be therapeutic in the short term, it's something that ultimately I want to work on. I want to be open and honest, but only from a place where I'm not so impulsive.

So, here's a good bit of things I've experienced and learned from this year.

Water is key. I feel like this is the only way to start this list because it's a universal thing. Drink more water. It helps. If you are like me and chronically are awful with it, stick a straw in a glass. Use a mason jar. It's fun. Your body will thank you.

Crying is good. A bit much sometimes? Sure. Definitely, in fact. I've cried more this year than I have the last 10 combined, which sounds like a lot, but after summer of 2013 I pretty much stopped crying. I do think there is a lot to this personally. Unfortunately, I think some of it is hormonal, which is a reminder of just how far behind I am from where I wanted to be (i.e. my uterus is out for blood--literally-- when it should instead have been halted by sweet, sweet testosterone). But this has also been a year of great freedom for me, and one that I've found a lot of joy in. In fact, MOST of the crying I've done this year has been because I felt like I was allowed to feel things. It's been a slow burn these last few years, but it really did hit its peak this year. And if you were on the end of my What We Do In The Shadows snapchats of me reacting to episodes, my apologies. But it's been a needed release, and I think I'm now in a place where I am less explosive with it.

Health scares are very scary. I'm still avoiding addressing things. I'm terrified, but I know it's necessary, so it will come. But I need a little longer. This is not a proud admission. Do not do this.

Make lists. Make a hundred lists. Make four lists that you use simultaneously that all convey the same information but because they're in different mediums, your brain feels like it can keep track of it. Who cares. Your physical and digital desktops might look insane, but if it feels productive, who cares.

Those negative thoughts remain. This is something I've known for years, but it's a good idea to remind yourself about. I'm in a better place, I'm still here, and I will still be here to the best of my ability. But they happen, and they are real, and it's best to be aware of them. I wish they weren't, but that's a good reminder in itself that I'll be okay. I want to be better, and that's enough.

There will never be "time" to process. Time doesn't stop. Take breaks when you need them, take vacations, go to therapy, hole up in your room, whatever. But life keeps on happening, and it sucks, so you really just have to take it one day at a time. No matter how hard you try, and no matter how much you heal, things still happened, and you have to just move on. From my burnout to my PTSD... it's all still something I experienced. I have to leave it there sometimes, and just keep on going through my life. You can only shrink yourself so much.

Save money. This isn't really for me, because I do, and I will. I pride myself on this. But if you're saving, save more. Spend guilt-free sometimes, maybe even when you "shouldn't", but for the love of god, save some money. Save $100. Save $20. Keep a five-dollar bill in your wallet. Just anything. Even if you're like me and good with money. But also, if you're bad with money. It's a habit and you have to work on it. The world isn't going anywhere and with it remains the need to be financially smart. Just suck it up.

Stop watching shows or movies you don't like. Put down a book three chapters in if it sucks. Who cares. You can come back to it down the line, and maybe it'll be better. But you don't have to waste your time on something you chose to do for fun that isn't actually all that fun. Open a game you want to play only to close it on the menu screen. Shove your dinner in a tupperware if it's not something you want to eat. Whatever.

Shit is just going to happen. Did I go into this year knowing I'd go through anything that I went through? Literally no. Life is insane, and perhaps mine has been a bit crazier than others' lately, but stuff's gotta happen, and is gonna happen. Prepare yourself and your mind to know that, because it's a lot easier to deal with, say, a deadly hurricane headed straight for you or a phone about to explode somewhere it definitely should NOT explode when you play that "when life gives you lemons" Vine on repeat in your head. Sometimes you just get stuck with a bunch of lemons.

Anyway. I love New Year. It's been my second favourite holiday for most of my life. I don't believe in a Great Time Reset or resolutions, but I like the concept of a wiped slate. I will be the same person I was December 31st as I will be January 1st. Just with maybe a little more communal energy of "we can start again". Which is refreshing.

[pof203]

A Summoner Birthday

Special Quest: Enigma

Scanning new area. Area is secure. We may precede forward.

C'mon, Enigma! You're not going to be like this the whole time we're here, are you?

Enigma: Forgive me. This is just brand new territory for me.

You brought Enigma to the virtual fairytale world to show him some fun.

Enigma: But I must say, this world does seem rather convincing. Kurogane and Boogeyman may not be so incompetent after all.

Lupin: See? You just need a little faith in others. So, where would you like to go?

Enigma: I have heard that you and your friends faced a dragon on your birthday. I would like to see that place for myself.

Lupin: Okay, let's go.

And so, you leave for the old castle of the sleeping princess.

Enigma: So, this is where you fought the dragon that took the form of Lucifuge of the Tycoons.

Lupin: Yes. He was actually under a spell from being taken to this world. I'm glad you didn't get sucked in. You usually seem like you're on the Internet always.

Enigma: I was not on the Internet at the time. I was in a state known as meditation and could not access the Internet at the time.

Lupin: Good. I wonder what kind of fairytale character you woudl be.

Enigma: If I would estimate, I believe I would be either be the wooden puppet brought to life by the blue fairy or the man made of tin.

Lupin: Now that doesn't sound nice. You shouldn't think of yourself so apathetically.

Enigma: I am sorry if it makes you unhappy.

Lupin: It doesn't, really. I just wish you could show a little emotion.

Enigma: I do show some emotion. Though, there is one I wish I could feel more of.

Lupin: What's that?

Before Enigma could answer that, something comes into the room. It was a wyvern.

Lupin: (readying sword) That can't be good. I guess this stray came in with us and we didn't even notice.

Enigma: Leave the information warfare to me. Let's protect your confidentiality.

After a grueling battle, the dragon was getting weaker.

Establish communication secrecy and deploy self-replicating loops. Cryptograph Script!

With one strike, Enigma defeats defeats the dragon and it runs away.

Enigma: Communication has ended successfully. Is it not possible for an incompetent person to understand this ability?

Lupin: Your armor's damaged. Here, I can fix.

Enigma: That will not be necessary. I can repair my armor myself.

Lupin: (looking a bit down) But... I wanted to.

Engima: ... (blushing) Very well. If it will satisfy you.

Enigma removes his armor so you can repair it. Here's hoping all that time you spent with Kurogane wil pay off.

Will be be long? ... Not that you need to. You may take all the time you desire. I do not mind.

Lupin: Alright.

Enigma: ... I still do not understand you. Why do I find myself thinking of someone as illogical as you? Not that I am saying that you are incompetent or anything. I just... I just do no know how to react to this.

Lupin: Maybe... you're having fun.

Enigma: (surprised) Fun?! ... (blushing again) Yes, I guess that is one way of putting it. It is not a bad feeling. (happy) I guess this is a positive feeling.

Lupin: Did you ever have any fun in the past?

Enigma: The closest thing I have ever done that was considered fun was creating art with the Creators. Though, I do wish I could do more than just that. I have never truly found anything fun, even after coming to Tokyo... Until I met you. I never thought doing anything that was out of character could make me feel so good.

Lupin: (happy) I'm glad you're having fun.

Enigma, with a red and happy face sits close to you. You both can feel the warmth and joy from this scene.

Enigma: Lupin...

Lupin: Yes?

Enigma: Well, I just wished you to know that if I were not a member of the Creators... (happy) I would love to join the Shinjuku Summoners. If you will have me.

Lupin: Enigma... You can join us if you want to and still be a Creator.

Enigma: ... (satisfied) Thank you. Lupin.

After finishing the armor, you and Enigma leave the castle hand-in-hand. You both are very happy as you both make your way back to Cnadyland.

[muerteporfavor]

I am someone who who partakes in therapy (although I also do a lot to improve myself outside of therapy because unfortunately I can sometimes go over a month without a session which sucks but that's life. This blog is something I started after my last therapy session and I actually haven't told my therapist about it yet because I haven't had a session since. That was almost a month ago and I won't see her again until October. I'm going to pretend this doesn't upset me. It helps no one.)

Anyway, I've been thinking about something she said in one of my sessions recently. I had said something along the lines of that "sometimes you just have to let yourself sit with your depression and not do anything but lay in bed until its over. Because sometimes when you push yourself you are just miserable outside of the house rather than in. And sometimes the things that are meant to bring joy don't even remotely lighten your mood."

My therapist asked me who told me that. And I told her "nobody it's just the way it works." as that is my experience. Sometimes I just need to reset where I go nowhere, see nobody, work on nothing, and watch a lot of tv or read a lot of fanfiction with sad music until I feel strong enough to drag my body out of the rut. However, she told me that you're supposed to leave the house, supposed to do something, even when you feel miserable. And I know, the things you are supposed to do aren't meant to suddenly remove the foul mood but it is supposed to make it bearable.

I haven't had a lay in bed depression in a while. Currently, I am sick or have been and wasn't allowed to leave my house a few times without risking infecting someone else (I am fine now, and I wasn't contagious when I was on vacation) and usually that puts me into a really bad depression spell where I do nothing. This time? My bed is a mess, I'm struggling to care for myself, but my desk is also a mess. Which is always a good sign for me because it means that I'm still working even if some days are lighter work than others. I'm still pushing even though a lot of days I just want to curl up in bed and never move again.

So maybe she had a point. I guess. I haven't been leaving the house but I have been holding myself up right. And that really is what matters doesn't it? I didn't do those things to remove the mood. I did them to accomplish something. Even menial.

Previously, I would try to force the mood away at any means necessary. Especially when I used to work at my job that didn't allow for slow days, days where I just needed to intermittently lay down to recharge. Sure, I found time to lay down but it wasn't ever enough to recharge before I had to jump into the action and get up off the cold hard floor. I just had to do eight hours with no breaks where I chugged caffeine and sugar and snacked like crazy until the clock struck punch out time and I could go home and not move for a solid hour.

Those were bad days. I remember once, I can't remember if I was in charge or not, but my coworker was trying to hand me a clipboard and was saying something to me but something in my system had shifted without warning. I've never felt underwater like that before. His voice was near impossible to hear, even harder to comprehend, and I just stopped moving. Like I was in the bottom of a whirlpool. And then I crashed to the surface everything came back into sharp focus, and I started moving again. My coworker had said they weren't even sure I was hearing them for a second. That is my life.

The amount of times my coworkers had to accommodate me (management is entirely clueless about) when my tic disorder would have an episode and I had to be away from customers until they calmed down because I couldn't do my job effectively. Or when I used to have really bad panic attacks all the time. The last one I thankfully fixed. And it became a very rare problem that I could work through feeling my hands or not.

But I grew so tired of that. After a while you have to you know? And I guess I couldn't separate the difference between pushing through to the brink of overexertion with the pushing through just enough to allow air into my lungs. Because to me they would result in the same near death experience.

And that's the problem with toxic environments isn't it? They reshape your brain, make you believe that all environments are toxic until you learn to separate the difference. Until you step away from the environments trying to kill you. There is something so addicting about toxicity.

[driftingmoonmenace]

Hi, hi! I saw your vent post and I hope it's okay if I drop here for a sec!

I just wanted to say that it's ok! Imposter syndrome is one of the toughest things to battle with, especially when it comes and latches to something that is important to us and we care about a lot. Because we want it to be good, but the image in our heads doesn't tend to match what we make and it brings a lot of self-doubt. And there are a lot of wonderful artists and writers in this fandom (you included!) and getting inspired is as easy as getting self-conscious about not feeling like you are doing as much or even enough. It's a feeling that sucks and combating it is very hard, because it takes time and trying to push back against those feelings whenever you recognize them.

So I would like to say, don't feel bad for feeling like this! It's not gonna help at all if on top of the anxiety you beat yourself up for feeling it at all.

I would like to assure you that what you make is very appreciated! Your style is characteristic, your designs are fun and pretty, and the stories you make are great!

From one self-perceived slow artist to another (I never know if my next drawing or writing of anything will come out in a month or several from the last!), I also want to say that I completely undertand how all that feels. I had a period of several years where I just was so burnt out that I didn't feel motivated to create anything for that amount of time. It's one of the hardest things to find how to find joy in what you make without worrying about numbers and people's reactions, and also letting yourself work at the pace that works for you. Perfectionism rears its ugly head to make projects anxiety inducing to the point there is so much prep work that we exhaust ourselves with the idea that all of that will not come out how we want anyways so trying is futile.

But that's perfectionism lying to you. Because there are so many things you can be proud of that you've made! All that time that you have put into them has gotten your skills all the way to where they are, and while I know amount of engagement is something that will make the doubts come back up frequently, I think it's necessary to take a deep breath and know that not a single moment of the time you've spent creating and sharing stuff has been wasted or not good enough. You have so much you have done because you allowed yourself to enjoy what you were making. And the happiness from that might make it seem like you have to push yourself to make, make, and make, because otherwise it will all go away, but pushing yourself like that might just make it all seem too much and too exhausting and it becomes something to dread instead of something to look forward to.

I know you probably know all this already, but hearing from someone else  can be helpful sometimes if convincing yourself is difficult (which it is!)

I apologize if I overstepped a little and the vent post was meant to be just that, to express how you've been feeling. But just in case, I did want to leave this here. To let you know it's fine! It's fine to take your time and not push yourself if it means you can win against the anxiety, because going at your own pace is what allows you to create! It's also ok to not create for a while if it helps to detangle yourself from those feelings of inadequacy (in fact, maybe setting the objective of NOT thinking about creating at all could help, because then it's your goal to sit back and relax. Put a big pause button on everything and enjoy a small brain vacation!)

(Personally, I love your Club AU and I'm definitely looking forward to whatever you have planned with it! When AUs outside of the pizzaplex started coming out, yours was one of the first ones I came across and it has stayed in my mind since then! I'm 100% willing to wait, so there's no rush yeah? )

Your stuff is great! And if making and not sharing is what will help you right now, I say go for it! If you need a mental break from drawing, also go for it! Just make sure it's to help you take care of yourself and not beat yourself for it! You haven't "failed" in art, or in the fandom. Anxiety and expectations might have strained you a bit, and that's hurting right now, but it will heal and it will get better.

Aaaa sorry that this is so long and rambly! So I should probably end this here haha (also no pressure to respond to this!)

Take care, friend! <3

I can't thank you enough for all the such kind words and support, Chaotik!! And for the advice too!!!! I greatly appreciate all of it and wholeheartedly agree. 💕

Imposter Syndrome is such a difficult thing to deal with, it's true. And it's unfortunate that so many people suffer from it. (It's hard for me when anything I create that I deem 'good enough' feels like a fluke, then anything I deem otherwise feels like a failure.) Plus the added high expectations you tend put on yourself. I wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone, especially something you feel is so ingrained in who you are. It's really exhausting when you feel like you gotta go, go, go all the time on top of all of that too!!

I def feel that with the whole 'idk when art/writing will happen' thing. Sometimes I'm on my A-game and can pump out a lot of stuff in a week. Then other times I'm barely managing to do anything for several months unless the stars magically align. It can get frustrating but I know there's no use in forcing myself since I've really burnt myself out over the years. Taking a step back to focus on myself is something I'm just now learning to get better at. And boy howdy have I improved on that front along with setting boundaries for myself since joining the DCA fandom with how wholesome and positive it is! It's still a work in progress, but progress is progress after all!

(btw you didn't over step or get rambly on me, so no worries on that, ok?) 👌💕

[tidytidbits]

Tidy tidbit #3

Previous tidbit | Next tidbit

Clutter task solution #1: Giving up

Haha, no, I couldn't possibly....give up on the hobby I'm guilting myself for not doing? Or the unfinished crochet project. Or the unread Smart Person Books That Everyone Who's Anyone Reads that are on my shelf because I NEED to expand my worldview, there are horrible things happening that I need to be aware of and-

Yes, you can give up on all of that. Seriously, yeah! Try Giving Up™ today for the low low price of FREE. THROW IT AWAY. PACK IT UP. DONATE IT. STOP GUILTING YOURSELF ABOUT IT.

I said it in my other post: If something you used to enjoy [or thought you would enjoy] causes you negative emotions now and you have the option to move onto something else, continuing to force yourself to experience the thing that sucks doesn't leave you any room to experience something else you might enjoy.

Giving up and getting rid of the item is definitely an option if:

It's a gift from someone else and you hate it (more on how to politely tell chronic gift-givers and nosy relatives your feelings later!)

The item has low value or little to no resale value to other people (obsolete electronics, broken items, already-opened consumables like makeup and food)

You did it, you loved it, you thought you wanted to keep loving it, but now you're over it and you don't need the physical reminder. Like fancy liquor bottles that you kept but never used for anything. Or physical books, if you don't reread books. Or souvenirs from trips.

It would take you more time and effort than you're willing to put into completing that item's task. Applies to everything from unread books to podcasts to side hustles.

The item is not a necessity for day-to-day life AND-

There are no significant emotional, legal, or financial repercussions to giving up on that hobby, experience, or item. I am excluding sunk cost (the amount of money you spent on the item) when I say this.

Obviously I'm not telling you to throw away your only childhood photos, diploma, or taxes. PLEASE keep it if it's important to achieving necessary things and PLEASE READ THE NEXT BIT, NEURODIVERGENT FRIENDS!!

Exceptions to this solution:

If you suffer from a mood disorder or alternating states of mania and depression, or even just seasonal affective disorder (S.A.D.), I highly recommend PACKING things out of sight rather than throwing them away if you have the space, just for at least 6 months. This is so you don't end up destroying something you would have kept in a different mental state, a different season, a different home environment. If you don't love reading at ALL right now (vs something like definitely being out of your Twilight phase but still into fantasy novels) and you've struggled before with periods where nothing "sparks joy", then try just boxing them up and putting them in the back of your closet for a few months with a reminder on your phone to donate if you still don't want to read in better times either.

Previous tidbit | Next tidbit

[actualbird]

"infodumping in a story is always bad and boring" no ur just a writing elitist who doesnt understand that sometimes infodumping in a story is NECESSARY and that is totally possible to make it engaging and cool and fun!!!

sometimes the story NEEDS to have a information told and not shown (but my anger towards "always show, never tell" is a whole other post of anger) and one way, among many, to make conveying information interesting is so frigging simple:

use your character to convey the info

infodumping gets a bad rap because lots of ppl only focus on the worst examples; the infodumping where the information is basically soulless a grocery list and okay, i get it, grocery lists arent interesting to read.

but compare the two grocery lists below

see what i mean? one is just information. the other is very obviously displaying the thoughts, feelings, and personality of a character/s

heres an example in a story and i'll just use my own fic since i cant be fucked to search one up in other stories im filled with anger right now okay

heres information without using the character

Luke doesn't sleep when others are around. This is worrying but it makes sense given his background.

heres that same information convyed but using a character to convey it

[...] Luke rarely sleeps when another person is around.

It honestly drove Marius a little nuts at first. Luke isn’t as obvious as a workaholic as the others but Marius, as he said before, is built different. He can see straight through Luke’s bullshit, can see past the wall of smiles and laid back assurances to see an exhaustion looming over Luke constantly. He gets enough sleep, sure, but when there’s another human being present, Luke is wide awake the entire time. Once, on a case, the team went on something of a late night stakeout—which is ridiculous, like, why, but they gotta do what they gotta do for the good of Stellis—and Luke had downright refused to sleep. He wanted to keep watch, he said, he’s trained for long hours without rest, he said, he’s the most capable of defending against threats should there be any, he said.

‘Hypervigilant’ is the word that immediately came to Marius’ mind. ‘Insane guard dog’ are the next few words that came to Marius’ mind. Early in their relationship, Marius had discovered that Luke keeps a knife under his mattress, close enough to the edge where he can easily grab hold of it at any second. Which, hey, what the fuck? Marius was momentarily overcome with a wave of “bite violence kill” at whatever the hell made Luke so paranoid he has to have a weapon at the ready to reach for in his sleep, but then Marius remembered Luke’s NSB training and he can’t exactly begrudge a strict government security agency for making extremely prepared agents. Better to be ready than not, he gets it, he just wishes that Luke could rest.

AM I MAKING SENSE HERE???

like information doesnt have to go in the sense that theres a mechanical robot taking things out of a box and giving the wikipedia definition of every object.

it can be that a character crashes in with their bag and pours out all of the shit and tells u all about every doodad. their personality in the words they say, their thoughts and opinions interjecting, their wants and desires in the words; this is one way, among many, to make infodumping a joy.

another great thing is that when u use characters to infodump, infodumps r now not just for giving information, theyre also now avenues for characterization, past anecdotes, current story, theme, and just so much other shit. now infodumping is working double or triple or quadruple time, inextricably interweaved with all the other story elements

anyway this isnt a writing advice post so much as me angry whenever i see ppl go "never do this in ur writing!! it's bad!!!!" no writing technique is inherently bad, suck my dick!!

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

'Ello! Pardon my inactivity but I do have a request for thee, could I have an Albert Wesker x Reader where both he's teaching the reader some new combat moves (even though her job doesn't require doing so) and while they're training she manages to pin him down which results in him "rewarding" her? Apologies for this being long!

Albert Wesker x F!Reader

Warnings: smut

Ever since they started dating Wesker wanted to teach y/n some self-defence techniques, because he wanted to make sure she is safe without him and it was also part of his job. Staying almost everyday after hours, training the mew recruits, RPD became his second home. If he feels he is capable of, he goes to the gym as a method to relive some stress. Not to mention, he realised how much he missed the presence of another human being until his lover came to train with him. 

It was late, not an usual hour for training, but Wesker likes the privacy. Since he doesn’t spend much time at his own house, he didn’t made his own gym, so he either goes to RPD or the one from Umbrella.

It became a routine for them. Even if her job doesn’t require combat training she is grateful for this opportunity. Wesker is an incredible fighter and teacher and has a lot of patience with her. Over time they advanced and now they fight to pin each other to the ground.

The size difference was noticeable, but that wasn’t necessary a bad thing. Albert was taller and stronger belittling y/n maybe without intention. He taunted her on purpose just to piss her off so she could lose focus, then putting her on the ground was easy. He didn’t fall with all his weight on her, he didn’t want to crush her. Dirty thoughts crossed Albert’s mind as he saw her underneath him, squirming and groaning to get free form his release. Albert was sitting on top of her, resting his weight on her chest while griping her shoulder, holding one of her arm in place, with one hand and the other was on the ground. Her arm was uncomfortably staying between his shoulder and the arm that was gripping her shirt, the other was on the ground. If she was quicker she could’ve grabbed his leg and stop him from continuing the move. Albert was near her ear and couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease her a little more. He was holding his hands keeping her in a more powerful grip, from which it was impossible to escape.

“You would’ve been robbed 3 times by now.”

“Not everyone is a trained policeman with military experience.”

He let a deep chuckle inside her ear and released his grip.

“We’re going to do this one more time, then we can call it a day.”

“I don’t understand why we need to do this, it’s not like someone will attack an accountant out of the blue.”

“I think i explained you this. I want to you to be prepared for anything, even if there aren’t many crimes going around. You should thank me.”

“For teaching me, or for the low crime rate?” 

“Shut up.” 

Wesker chraged towards her and this time without any restraint. When his fist was about to hit her face, she lowered herself at his chest level, placed one hand on his lower thigh and the other on his back and lifted his leg up spinning him around, then dropping him on the ground. A very confused Wesker was now laying on the floor, processing what happened. He was sure she will fail this time, but when he came back from his confusion , pride and joy conquered his mind. His girl did it. Y/N saw he was dazed and she kneeled next to him worried he might hit his head too hard. 

“Did i throw you too hard?”

“No, i received stronger hits.”

“Are you that impressed then?”

“Yes.”

Y/N left out a small chuckle and gave him a small kiss on his sweaty forehead, putting back in place a few strands of hair.

“He looked so good when he’s like this” she thought while running her fingers through his blond hair, admiring his exhausted form. His cheeks were red, his breath heavy, in other words, he wasn’t the perfect guy anymore. Sometimes his impeccable appearance pissed her off. Everyone has bad days, but not him. Moments like this were a treasure to her.

A small moan left his mouth when y/n grip tightened on his scalp.

“You like pain, don’t you?” Y/N was surprised when she felt his long, thick fingers moving on her inner thigh. Wesker was squeezing her flesh and was going painfully slow up to her clothed core.

“Big boy was pinned down and now he wants attention?”

“I don’t mind”

She moved the hand from his scalp, caressing his soft white skin down to the elastic band of his shorts, playing with the laces while extending his agony. She playfully inserted a finger inside, just as deep as the elastic band was, and kept pulling it. She took a glance over her shoulder and could see his erection growing.

“Do you want some comfort down there, big guy?” She said while teasing the area just above the growing member with her fingertips.

Wesker let out a shaky “please”, the other hand moved alongside to pull the tank top, enough to reveal his hardening nipple. It didn’t take long for her lips to make contact with the skin, while the other hand went deeper to explore his hot member. She grabbed it and began to stroke him gently, her fingers barely touching around his girth, while her tongue drew circles around his nipple. Wesker was struggling to pull off her leggings so he could slide a few fingers inside her. Y/N noticed and helped the poor man. In a few seconds she resumed her actions, this time half naked while Wesker was working fanatically her core. The idea of being caught excited them both, and they didn’t have any intention to speed things up. The room was filled with their dirty moans.

Wesker was making scissor motions with his fingers inside her. She needed to be well prepared to take him whole. Y/N increased the speed as well, going up and down to his ball sack, then up again. His shaft was soaked in his own precum, and his nipple was red and swollen by all the sucking.

“Say, do you want to spice it up, Y/N?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sit on my face.”

She immediately removed her leggings and panties and rested her wet core on his face, feeling his hot breath on her lips. His tongue began to spread her folds and feel the salty liquid that was dripping on his tongue. He raised his hips a little to allow y/n to remove his clothes too, revealing his hard member. The chill air made it throb, but it was soon engulfed by her hungry mouth. Well, how much she could because he was really long and thick. She covered his tip with her tips, then she proceeded to go slowly down his length taking more and more until the tip hit the back of her throat. The she stopped and pulled back, only to go down again, accommodating with the length. Meanwhile, Albert had his big thumb pressed on her clit and his tongue deep buried in her hole, licking around the contracting walls. Precum started to leak down her throat and he began to throb in her mouth. Y/N removed herself and Wesker whined in protest, trying to put pin her down again.

“Haven’t learned your lesson?”

Y/N stand up and turned around so she could sit on his cock. She was well warmed up and near edge, so with a quick thrust Wesker filled her insides. Y/N felt so full that it was unbearable. His shaft constantly hit her spot and tears began to drip down her cheeks from the overstimulation. Wesker was close too, she could feel him throb inside. She threw her head back, her vision went dark for a few seconds and all the tension that was building in her abdomen, stomach, and chest was released as she came hard on his cock. Her contractions helped Wesker reach his release too, he grabbed her flesh so hard that it turned red under his fingers so he could hold her in place. Y/N collapsed on his chest with his shaft still inside her.

“I will beat you up more frequently.”

“Oh dear, you’ll have to try harder from now on.”

“Don’t you like rewarding sex?”

“I like sex in my bed to be honest.”

He had a point. With all the adrenaline and arousal gone, self consciousness made it’s way in their minds. They were in the RPD, late, and anyone could enter the gym. Wesker pulled out, a mixture of their cum and sweat combined dripping down her thighs. He took a towel and cleaned around her core and helped her stand up. After a quick kiss on the lips, they both headed to the locker room. Hopefully, they haven’t met anyone on their way there, nor on their way to the parking lot. It was indeed a quiet city.

[charioting]

" ryuji, " akira's voice is almost overpowered by the downpour; if the cold seeped into his own bones like this, he can't imagine the pain ryuji must feel on his leg. " how bad does it hurt ? " his eyes, watchful, expectant. he doesn't wait for an answer. " let me carry you back. "

@yikeen 

    when he was younger, ryuji used to love the rain. when the rain would fall from the sky, his mom would wake him with yellow rainboots &. he’d speed out the door as soon as his mother would leave for work. he’d spend all morning running around, feet squeaking with raindrops sinking in inky dark hair.

      that love of rain changed the first time it poured down after that bastard broke his leg. ryuji woke up to feeling of deep, intense pain starting from his thigh down to his feet. it’s not often that ryuji cries ( he hears his dad say real men don’t cry ) but he did then. he cried at the injustice of it all &. because of pain he’s never felt, ever in his life.

  sadly, today was no different. he could tell that it was raining the second he opened his eyes. the pain in his leg was almost unbearable &. ryuji didn’t want to get out of bed. he thought about not going to school, to sit at home &. soak in a hot bath, but they were going to mementos today &. he wasn’t going to let his friends go in without him. if they got hurt because of him, he would never forgive himself.

        ryuji pushed himself out of bed &. regretted it immediately. putting pressure on his leg made him feel sick &. he could feel sweat start to bead on his forehead. he just has to put on his uniform, take some pain meds &. get to school. he could rest his leg all day before they went to mementos. he could do this.

    by the time he got ready ( his leg was trembling &. he was still sweating bullets ) he was running a real risk of being late. he limped out the door, bag swung over his right shoulder. he wishes he could feel the same joy he used to feel at the sight of rain, but now all he can feel is pain &. true irritation.

   when he gets to school, he slumps into class with a frown on his face. he doens’t leave his seat unless it’s absolutely necessary &. it’s one of the hardest things he’s ever done. the only thing that kept him going was breathing exercises &. the thought of maybe having ann agi his leg.  he makes it through the day, but only barely. he collapses on one of the ledges outside of the school, chest heaving.

    he didn’t hear akira’s voice at first ( didn’t even know he was there ), he’s trying to breathe, teeth gritted against the pain.  but when he hears akira’s voice, he want to cry. he wants to cry because of how much it sucks, how much his leg hurts ( how kind his friend is ).

    ‘    it’s fine, dude, it doesn’t hurt.    ‘ he’s lying &. he knows it &. akira knows it. that’s the problem, ryuji thinks as he presses a hand against his thigh, akira won’t let him bullshit his way out of this.  he was about to lie again but the truth tumbles out before he could even process it. ‘  it’s hurts so fuckin’ bad, akira.    ‘   

     his voice is choked ( thick ) with tears that he cannot shed because he refuses to give that man the satisfaction, but he’s at his limit.  ‘  i don’t want you to carry me but i don’t think i can walk back to my house.   ‘    he looks down at his leg again ( throbbing, tender ) &. clenches his fist.   ‘    do you think i could crash at leblanc tonight? i don’t want my mom to see me like this, not again.      ‘

[gwynplaine89]

Smile and put on your best face

Multi-chapter fanfic. Arthur X Sophie.

I own NOTHING. Todd (aka God) does.

Will be updating regularly.

Chapter 1: A chronic underachiever

The bus is full. Seems like I will have to stand this time. No, wait. There's a free spot in the back. I drop myself on the last seat. I'm still in pain due to the beating I took this morning. Some kids assaulted me outside the music shop. They stole the sign from my hands and ran away. I followed them but they ambushed me in an alley, beat me down and hit me. There were five of them. I know the broken sign will be deducted from my paycheck. And there's not much one can deduct from that salary anyway...

The way home is long. All days resemble each other. Always the same route, the same streets, the same lights, the same people. But sometimes, and only sometimes, there's something different, something that catches my attention. A little boy. In the front seat. He turns around and watches me with curiosity. He seems to be very interested in me. He's the only one in this bus for whom I'm not invisible.

I had washed my face earlier and removed all the clown make up, but it doesn't matter. Kids, unlike adults, posess fantasy. Just by making some funny faces the boy is already laughing. Suddenly, his mother turns around and looks at me in anger.

- Stop bothering my child!!

- I wasn't bothering him...I'm sorry...

I was just trying to make him laugh. People always seem to be upset...

And suddenly I feel laughter crawling up my throat. Oh no...please no, not now.

- HAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA

The woman turns around again.

- WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT??!!!

- HAHHAHHAHAH no....no HAHAHHAH. I'm not...I'm not laughing. HAHAHAHHA. I'm s-sorry. HAHAHAHHA.

I need air. My throat hurts. I can't speak. My hand reaches to my pocket, I grab one of my "presentation cards" and hand it to her. Normal people always carry those with them. They say things like "LAWYER", "DOCTOR" or "CEO". Mine is a bit different.

"Excuse me if I laugh. I'm sick. My laughter is involuntary.

Please kindly return this card"

The woman reads it, looks at me with mistrust and hands me back the card. My laughter slowly calms down, but I've already made her uncomfortable. Her and everyone else here. I feel all those eyes on me. There's still two stops before home but as soon as the bus halts, I get off. I sit down on a bench at the stop and wait for the next bus.

A man approaches and sits down beside me. He carries a newspaper and begins to read. Thomas Wayne, who is running for mayor of Gotham, is on the cover. I laugh a bit upon seeing him because I remember that my mom has a weird obsession with mailing him letters. And then my laughter gets out of control.

- HAHAHHAHAHHAAAA

I cover my mouth with one hand to smother the laughter. But I can't.

- What's wrong with you?- he says, visibly annoyed.

I just shake my head no. I try to say something but again I fail. My laughter only gets worse and louder by the minute.

- HAHHAHAHAHAHA

- WHAT'S SO FUNNY, ASSHOLE??- the man yells, throwing aside the paper.

Again I reach for my card and hand it to him.

The man reads it. Now he is the one who laughs.

- You're sick?? Hahhahaha.

- Yes, Sir...

- Really?? You poor thing...HAHAHHAHA YOU THINK I'M STUPID OR WHAT??- he yells.

- N-no!! I...

The man tears the card into pieces.

- No!! Please...I need it!!

It was the last one I had left over.

- Fucking freak!!- he says and throws the pieces of paper in my face.

Great, in just one day I managed to get myself beaten up, have  some deducted from my paycheck, and my last card torn. My life is such a success.

People are not only impatient...sometimes they are cruel just for the sake of it.

I let the next bus pass me by. Despite the fact that it's gotten dark and it's winter, I think I prefer to walk today. The cold of men is worse than the cold of the night. It's a voluntary cold.

Chapter 2: Penny and Murray

To get home it's necessary to climb a set of never ending stairs. It's something I'm used to, but every step hurts due to the punches and it takes me twice as long to get to the top. From here, I continue to the right for two more blocks. The wind blows intensely and I fold my arms over my chest to protect myself from the cold because my yellow sweater doesn't keep me warm enough.

It's hard to make way through the garbage that threatens to bury all of Gotham. The rats, on the other hand, are something one gets used to after a while. Personally, I don't mind them. I think they suffer the same luck we do. They just wander around desperately in search of a bit of food and shelter.

The building where I live is a damn horrible shack. It's old, collapsed and it sucks. Inside are at least two hundred appartments where people live cramped together like sardines. Mine is number 8A. There's barely enough space to fit in my mom and me. But, in spite of it all, it's the only good moment of my day when I get here, home.

- Happy, you're late! What happened?

Happy...that's what my mom calls me. It's ironic...Mom never leaves the house, her health is very fragile and she needs my help for almost everything. She can no longer work. Her name is Penny. I always prepare dinner and take it to bed for her. There's only one bed. Sometimes we share it and sometimes I sleep on the couch in the living room.

- I missed the last bus...- I explain while I take off my shoes and warm her a bowl of soup.

- Come quickly! The show is about to begin!

Every night before going to bed, we watch Murray's show. It's the best part of my day.

Murray is not just a comedian, he's the best comedian there is. He is everything I dream to be one day. When I watch his show, I often imagine that I'm there, that Murray invites me, that I tell hilarious jokes, that people applaud me and I make them laugh. Mom says that my purpose in life is to spread joy and laughter. It's something I take very serious. Mom and Murray are all I have, they are my company every night when I get home.

- Will you not eat, son?

- I'm not hungry.

- But look how skinny you are...eat a little, yes?

- Don't worry, mom...I'm fine.

After the show mom goes to sleep. I stay up for a little longer. I light a cigarette and take off my shirt. In days like these, I'm careful not to do it in front of mom, so that she doesn't see the bruises on my body or how terribly skinny I am. She doesn't need to know that people hurt me in the streets or that a clown's salary doesn't buy enough food for the two of us.

I try to write my diary, just like my therapist said. It's mostly lose thoughts, insignificant stuff that comes to my mind during the day. I don't wish to see anyone and at yet I need someone to speak with...and I solve the problem by talking to the paper. That said, it's not always easy to write down my thoughts because words have limits and thoughts don't have them.

For today I write a single line:

There is a certain amount of punishment in the mere fact of existing.

I am a clown, and to complete myself, or perhaps to complicate myself, I am also a dancer. Sometimes I start dancing in the dark, alone with the street lights peeking through the window. I don't need music, one carries music on the inside. I always picture an audience that admires me and says "Arthur, you're such a great dancer!"

-"Thanks!"- I reply and wave to my public.

How amazing it would be to be like Murray and fascinate the crowds every night. How awesome it would be to feel the sincere appreciation of the people. Their respect, their admiration, their love...How great it would be, even for just one day, to belong to the world of the happy.

[eternallyanxiousandstressed]

Life of a Tired Person

It's not okay

But you already knew that

Didn't you

It's full of pain and misery

And hurt and suffering

Yet we never grow old of it

Some give up

They're considered weak

But I say they're strong

Just because you couldn't win

Doesn't mean you didn't hold your own

Some push on

They're considered strong

And I agree, they are

But that doesn't mean anybody is less

Just because you won

Doesn't mean the others are worse

Some simply exist

They're overlooked

Considered lazy and useless in society

But is that what the meaning is?

Being useful for people who could care less about you?

I'm simply tired

Trapped

Irritated

Restless

Empty

Drained

It's a strange thing

Different for everyone

You can be tired like me

And still push on

But you can still push on

And be ready to give up

It's necessary that it's different

But not that it's bad

We can influence which way it goes

But when you're stuck in between

You feel all alone

And it seems like the only way is down

Always looking down is scary

I don't want to

There's nothing happy when you look down

But I can't help it

And that's where I'm stuck

Sometimes I can look up

For brief moments

Or even longer ones when lucky

But gravity always wins out

And the darkness comes once again

I think being tired

Can be a result of pushing on

Without an actual want to continue

Most people fight the gravity

With a reason inside them

But it's different when you use things on the outside

Not bad

It still gives you a reason to try longer

But it's different

It feels fake

And it's exhausting

Fighting and pushing on is exhausting

Maybe everyone ends up this tired

This tired is different

A day of rest won't help

It's strange

How this tired works

It's mental and physical

And it is terrible

But we deal with being tired on our own ways

The situation sucks

Pain overshadows joy

Death overshadows life

Sadness overshadows happiness

Negativity overshadows positivity

People can choose to change this

And some do

They fight hard and help others

They add light to the normally dark place

They brighten up the world of a tired person

They bend the laws of gravity

If only so I can look up for a second

It will be okay

But you already knew that

Didn't you