#my brain is just suffering from my workload

[just-french-me-up]

this is a PSA for fic writers who haven't updated in a while :

there are fics out there I'm subscribed to that have gone double digit months without updating.

rest assured the moment those babies catapult an AO3 email my way i'm dropping from the face of the earth to sink my teeth into them

i'll wait, and so will your readers

[msboookesh]

MORIOR INVICTUS (Prologue)

- SEVENTEEN zombie apocalypse fic

"Why is it so cold when the sun is so high?" Choi Hyungseo mutter, letting out a sigh that could rival a deflating balloon. The bright blue sky seems to mock her impending doom. Hell week of midterms is just about to start, and she’s already exhausted, wishing for her death.

What she wouldn't give for a bottle of soju right now. But, of course, Hong Jisoo, the paragon of responsibility, wouldn’t let her near a drop while studying for exams.

But what he doesn't know won’t hurt him. She had heard him talking on the phone about the spike in patients crowding the hospital since a weird outbreak of feverish contagion started two days ago. He’ll be too busy to notice her sneaking a drink with some friends, or so she’d like to think.

With another sigh, she glance around Seongwon University's medical department's courtyard, bustling with students who either look as stressed as she feel or annoyingly carefree. Leaning back against the rough bark of an old oak tree, she consider her options. Study until her brain turns to mush or sneak in a drink and risk the wrath of Hong Jisoo? Decisions, decisions.

“Choi Hyungseo!”

The said lady’s musings are interrupted by a loud and vivacious voice calling her name. A very, very loud voice that makes her wince instantly.

When she turn to the source, there stands her clubmate from the cat-care club, the great Lee Seokmin with his broad shoulders and tall stature, his wide smile and kind eyes, waving at her.

Ugh, Seokmin. They’re not friends, but he always smiles at her, which she’s not too sure if she find kind or annoying.

Seokmin, being a student of sports education, rarely sees Hyungseo outside of their club meetings. Yet there he is, Wednesday, seeking her out in her territory. For what reason? Hyungseo don’t have any idea.

As he strides over, she feel the eyes of the courtyard on them or her, wait, maybe him. The attention she’s getting due to Seokmin’s popularity, especially with girls, makes her want to disappear.

Oh no, please land, just eat me alive.

“Hyungseo!” Seokmin's voice booms again, catching the attention of even more students. He finally reaches her, his grin impossibly wide. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

“Lucky me,” Hyungseo replied, plastering on a smile. “What’s up, Seokmin?”

“I need your help with something for the cat-care club,” he says, his enthusiasm undeterred by her sarcasm. “I found this great shelter, and I thought you could help me set up an excursion for the whole club.”

Great. Just what she need. More responsibilities piled on top of her already towering workload. Hyungseo tried to muster some enthusiasm, but all she can think about is the endless study sessions awaiting her.

“Sure, Seokmin,” She says, trying to sound more cheerful than she feel. “Let’s talk about it later, okay? I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. I’ll meet you later at the…at your building?”

“Uh…uhm, okay.” His face falls slightly, but he nods, still smiling. “Of course! We’ll catch up later. Good luck with your things on your plate!”

As he walks away, Choi Hyungseo can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. Seokmin’s just too kind for his own good. But right now, all she want is to crawl into a hole and hide from the world.

She let out another sigh, this one even more dramatic than the last. Midterms, Seokmin, Jisoo’s ever-watchful eye... Sometimes she wish she could just hit pause on the crowded and noisy environment of city life. But that would be the day, of course no, the universe will never stop living. Or so she thought.

On the other side of Seoul, Hong Jisoo sat in the break room, phone in hand, trying once again to call Hyungseo. It went straight to voicemail, and a small frown formed on his forehead. He hadn’t seen her this morning; his shift had started too early.

Jisoo leaned back in his chair, letting out a quiet sigh. Haneul Medical Center was unusually busy, with a surge of patients suffering from a mysterious fever. His mind kept drifting back to Hyungseo, wondering if she was okay. He knew how stressful midterms were for her, and he wished he could be there to support her.

He sent her a quick text, hoping she would see it soon: "Hey Hyungseo, just checking in. Hope you're doing okay. Call me when you get a chance."

Putting his phone down, he ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. He knew he had to focus on his patients, but a part of him couldn't help but feel distracted, his thoughts continually drifting back to his friend. He hoped she was safe, studying hard, and not pushing herself too much.

“Is she still in class? Should I try again?” Jisoo muttered to himself, preparing to call another time when his co-resident slammed the door open.

“Fuck this!” Jun’s unusually loud voice cursed.

Jisoo turned to him and instantly noticed the crimson spots on Jun's blue scrubs. “What happened?”

“One of the patients who came in earlier vomited all over me.” Jun grumbled.

“Shouldn’t you go straight to--” Jisoo began.

“I would, I would, if not for it being so crowded. Fuck, man, I know it’s your break, but they’ll need you out there. People are scrambling in here like it’s a fucking mall. They’re all saying they feel cold and then hot, and all of them are rude as fuck,” Jun explained as he removed his top, changing into a t-shirt. “Fuck, I feel like I’m getting cold like them now.”

Jisoo winced at the amount of ‘fuck’s in Jun's sentence but nodded nonetheless when he noticed his pale face. “Okay, take my break. You look like you need it.”

Jun nodded, gratefully sinking into the chair Jisoo had just vacated.

“Thanks, man,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead. “I think I just need a minute.”

Jisoo gave his colleague a reassuring pat on the shoulder before heading out of the break room. The bustling atmosphere of the hospital hit him immediately.

The usual controlled chaos had turned into something more frantic, more urgent. He weaved through the crowded hallways, his mind still partially occupied with thoughts of his younger friend.

Reaching the Emergency Room, Jisoo was immediately greeted by the sight of overworked staff and anxious patients. The air was thick with tension, the sound of monitors beeping and people murmuring filling the space. He spotted a nurse he knew and quickly approached her.

“Hey, Nurse Kang, any updates on the febrile patients?” he asked, concern etched on his face. "The patient's paradoxical symptom of an abnormally cold sensation, despite their elevated body temperature, is particularly troubling."

“Yes and uhm,” She shook her head, her expression grim. “No, but it’s spreading atypically fast. The situation is escalating beyond our capacity to manage, and the symptoms are becoming increasingly severe and widespread.”

Jisoo nodded, a sense of urgency creeping into his chest. "Shouldn't we escalate this to a higher authority and consider activating emergency protocols? What are the senior doctors saying?"

"That's the thing, Doctor. They're not saying anything," Nurse Kang replied, her voice tinged with frustration. "Dr. Lee has been in the isolation ward for hours, and Dr. Park is swamped with incoming cases. Communication is breaking down."

Jisoo frowned, realizing the gravity of the situation. "We need to take decisive action. Can you compile the latest patient data and symptoms for me? You can hand it to me later, I’ll go and handle the new arrivals."

Nurse Kang nodded, already turning to her task. "I'll have it ready in ten minutes."

As he moved through the ER, assessing patients and trying to keep the situation under control, his phone buzzed in his pocket. For a moment, hope flared in his chest—it could be Hyungseo. But a quick glance at the screen showed it was just a notification from a news app, mentioning the same mysterious fever outbreak that was overwhelming their hospital.

He tucked his phone back into his pocket, trying to push aside his worry.

Loud yelling and arguing ensued, breaking his brief moment of distraction.

“Dr. Hong, we need you over here!” yelled a nurse from across the room.

Jisoo hurried over, weaving through the chaotic scene. When he reached the nurse, he saw a man clutching his bleeding arm, panic etched across his face. Jisoo quickly put on gloves and moved to examine the injury. His heart sank when he saw it: a clear bite mark, unmistakably human.

"What happened?" Jisoo asked, his voice calm but urgent.

The man winced, looking around nervously. "Some guy on the street—he just attacked me out of nowhere. Bit me like an animal."

Jisoo's mind raced. Human bite marks were unusual in any context, but in the middle of a mysterious fever outbreak, it was alarming. He exchanged a quick look with the nurse, who nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.

“We need to clean this and get you on antibiotics.” Jisoo said, motioning for the nurse to prepare the necessary supplies. As he worked, his thoughts flickered back to the news notification, the rising number of patients with unexplained fevers, and the eerie possibility that these incidents were connected.

His thoughts were interrupted by another set of screams from the back of the accumulating crowd in the ER.

A mother had attacked her child, her mouth covered in blood as she bit into the girl's thigh. The sight was horrifying, the girl’s screams piercing through the chaos. Nurses and doctors rushed to pull the mother away, but her strength was unnaturally fierce.

It took several staff members to subdue her, and even then, she continued to thrash and snap her jaws, her eyes wild and unseeing.

Hong Jisoo felt a chill run down his spine as he watched the scene unfold. The blood-soaked mother, the child’s anguished cries, the frenzied urgency of the medical staff—it all painted a grim picture of something far more sinister than a simple outbreak.

“Get her restrained!” one of the senior doctors shouted, directing the staff. “And get that child to a separate room for treatment.”

Jisoo moved swiftly to assist, helping to secure the mother to a gurney. Her strength was alarming, her skin cold and clammy to the touch. Once she was restrained, he turned his attention to the child, who was being carefully lifted onto another gurney by a pair of nurses.

“We need to get her cleaned up and start her on bactericide immediately.” Jisoo instructed, his voice steady despite the turmoil around him.

As he worked, he couldn’t shake the growing sense of dread. The pieces of a terrifying puzzle were starting to come together: the fever, the bites, the sudden, violent behavior. It was as if the city itself was descending into madness.

On the other side of the city, in the drab confines of homey home apartments, Jeon Wonwoo lounged like a ragdoll on his couch, the aftermath of last night’s Twitch marathon sprawled around him. Empty soda cans and snack wrappers created a crumpled mosaic across the floor, while the dark curtains did a lackluster job of muting the blinding midday sun.

He groaned awake, his head pounding from the previous night’s gaming escapade. He considered the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he should cut back on the all-night streams. With a grumbling yawn, he reached for his phone, scanning the screen for messages.

A slew of missed calls from his mother and a couple of unread texts from Seokmin flashed before him. Typical, he thought with a snort. He knew his stepbrother had a habit of worrying about him, especially after the whole law school fiasco. But dealing with family drama before his first cup of coffee? No thanks.

He grabbed his glasses and blinked blearily at the ceiling, still half-lost in the haze of sleep.

Suddenly, a series of frantic bangs on the door shattered the quiet. His heart jolted, and a frown creased his face. It wasn’t the usual polite knock of a neighbor or the casual rap of a delivery guy. This was desperate, almost primal. He crept toward the door, peering through the peephole with a mix of irritation and curiosity.

A man stood there, eyes wide with panic, blood streaming from a gash on his forehead. He banged on the door again, casting fearful glances over his shoulder as if pursued by something—or someone—unseen.

“Help! Please, let me in!” The man pleaded, his voice cracking with fear.

Wonwoo recoiled from the door, his mind flashing through every horror movie trope he’d ever seen. The old guy who used to leave packed food outside his door suddenly seemed more like a character from a nightmare.

He hesitated, wrestling with the impulse to ignore the man and the flicker of recognition that made him pause. This was the same old man who’d left him meals when Wonwoo was too wrapped up in his own world to notice. A pang of guilt tugged at him.

Taking a deep breath, he cautiously approached the door again. Against his better judgment, he unlocked the door and cracked it open, keeping the chain in place.

“What happened?” Wonwoo's voice rumbled from the depths of sleep, wary and annoyed.

“Someone attacked me. Please, you have to help me.” The man pleaded, his hands trembling uncontrollably.

Wonwoo's gaze fell on the man's arm, where a deep, ragged bite mark oozed with fresh blood. His initial reaction was a mix of revulsion and curiosity. Despite the gnawing urge to slam the door and ignore the whole mess, the old man’s pitiful plea tugged at a lingering sense of guilt.

Suppressing a grunt of frustration, Wonwoo unlatched the chain and pulled the door open wider, reluctantly allowing the man into his chaotic sanctuary.

“Sit down.” Wonwoo instructed curtly, guiding the man toward the couch with a grimace. He hurried to fetch his first aid kit from the bathroom, his mind racing through a jumble of thoughts.

The city's soundscape suddenly seemed to assault him with an unnerving intensity. The rhythmic hum of traffic, once a familiar backdrop, now felt overwhelmingly intrusive. Car horns blared with an almost maddening urgency, their shrill tones cutting through the usual ambient noise. The city's voices and noises blended into a chaotic cacophony, punctuated by sharp, unsettling cries that seemed to claw at his nerves.

Unease settled over him like a shroud as he stepped back into his cluttered living room, which doubled as a bedroom and gaming den. He found the man seated awkwardly in his gaming chair, the sight of it making Wonwoo's eyes narrow in disapproval.

“Son, I’m sorry to barge in like this…” The man stuttered, his voice trembling.

Wonwoo bit back a sharp retort, focusing on the man's fearful eyes. He could tell the man was genuinely terrified, but the intrusion was far from ideal. With a huff, he set to work on the wound, carefully applying antiseptic and bandages, albeit poorly, his movements precise but unenthusiastic.

As he cleaned the wound and applied a bandage, he tried to process what was happening. Human bites? People attacking each other?

The man’s breathing was shallow, his face pale when he whispered, his voice weak. “Thank you, I don’t know what’s going on. It’s like everyone’s gone crazy.”

Wonwoo’s phone buzzed on the bed, but his attention was seized by the man’s unsettling words. “Gone crazy?”

The man shivered as he continued, “My wife did this to me. I was just fixing our heater because she said she was cold when—”

A sudden spray of blood erupted from the old man’s mouth, splattering across Wonwoo’s bed. Panic surged through Wonwoo as he quickly distanced himself from the man.

“I… I think we need to get you to a hospital,” Wonwoo said, his voice steady despite the rising dread inside him. “Can you walk?”

The man nodded feebly. With Wonwoo’s assistance, they stumbled toward the door.

Just as they stepped into the hallway, a blood-curdling scream pierced through the building. Wonwoo’s blood ran cold. This was no ordinary morning. What in the actual hell was happening in the city?

Later than she’d care to admit, Hyungseo took the back route of the medical department building, heading toward the education department. With her headphones snugly in place, she was blissfully oblivious to the world around her, lost in the bubble of her own thoughts and a playlist that probably wasn't saving her from a future hearing loss.

The campus, a labyrinth of monotonous architecture and academic pretentiousness, seemed to stretch out like a bad dream she couldn’t quite wake from. Navigating it felt like operating on autopilot, her head bobbing along to the beat of her music in a one-person dance battle that no one else was invited to.

Lost in her own little world, she wandered through the nearly deserted campus, only to stumble over something jutting out from the alleyway near the entrance of the education sports department. She crashed to the ground, her headphones skidding away as a string of curses tumbled from her lips.

“What the—” She grumbled, pushing herself up and glaring at whatever had interrupted her private dance party.

Her annoyance quickly morphed into a full-blown scare as her eyes locked onto a figure sprawled in the alley, motionless and eerily silent. The figure’s clothes were torn, and blood stained the ground around them. A gaping wound on their neck oozed dark, congealed blood.

Hyungseo’s heart raced as she scrambled to her feet, eyes wide in shock. Panic surged through her, her mind racing through a checklist of possible explanations, none of which seemed to involve a peaceful resolution.

She opened her mouth to scream, but before she could make a sound, a large hand clamped over her mouth.

“Shh…” A voice growled from behind her, and a firm grip yanked her up from the ground. Hyungseo’s eyes darted around in terror, her mind spinning faster than a hamster on a wheel.

She struggled to free herself, muffling a string of curses that would make a sailor blush. Her skin crawled with a mix of fear and frustration.

"Hyungseo, it's me," he voice whispered urgently in her ear. "It's Lee Seokmin."

The recognition of Seokmin's voice eased her panic slightly, but her heart was still racing. Seokmin loosened his grip, letting her turn around to face him. His usually cheerful face was now pale and serious, an unsettling contrast to his typical demeanor.

Her eyes tracked over his figure, noting the streak of crimson on his cardigan. Her throat tightened as she spotted a baseball bat on the ground, smeared with the same red stain.

"Seokmin, what the hell is going on?" She hissed, her voice trembling with a fear she couldn’t quite place.

"I don't know exactly," Seokmin whispered, glancing nervously around the alley. "But we need to get out of here. It's not safe."

Hyungseo’s mind raced, piecing together the disturbing puzzle: the body in the alley, the eerily silent campus, Seokmin’s bloody appearance, and the bat. Something catastrophic was unfolding, and she seemed to be at the epicenter.

“W-what do you mean, Seokmin? Why are you covered in blood? Are you okay?” Her eyes welled up, her fear palpable.

Seokmin grabbed her hand, pulling her closer and hushing her. “I’m fine, it’s not my blood. But I just saw one of my teammates… eat another teammate. So, I don’t fucking know what’s going on, but we need to move. Now.”

This was no ordinary crisis—they were facing something far more sinister and deadly.

Next part ׂ╰┈➤ [ Chapter 1: Eat what? Did cannibalism become a trend? ]

[tomtepixiedust]

I'm on a hp roll and my brain rolled out another idea filled with suffering, anger and exhaustion. And crazy German hags that are terrifying but also having a good time.

The others - as in the captured - ain't having a good time.

The summer after an exhausting and exciting end of first year was supposed to be the time of rest and happiness.

Relax, do some casual reading and enjoy another culture.

Or fly around and join the many parties of high society (read: spending time with friends).

Maybe reconvene and read. Repeat and prepare for the workload of the 6th year.

All in all two months without school. A normal time of rest and---

They all were supposed to be anywhere but here (a bedroom, a ballroom, a hotel room), not stuck in the middle of nowhere with only tall trees around.

Each on their own, alone.

Only cackles, whispers around. A cool breeze, the roots like veins pulsting.

The only thing on their mind: get back home

Basically, each one got by accident (or not though they were not specifically targeted) teleported by a nasty trick portkey into the middle of Schwarzwald where a bunch of hags decided to pool more blood for their annual ritual. However, instead of the usual bout of the locals or tourists, some keen dark mage decided to broaden their horizons and get new blood from other countries.

Keep in mind, ya little ones, blood is blood, all that's important is if it's potent.

The hags care only for potency, not where the blood came from, pure or dirty, what stupidity, whether it's old blood or fresh blood.

Poor Draco and his big mouth of great heritage that gets him into a cage instead of his desired freedom. A hard learned lesson, dark mages care for their own obsessions, not always for the same as yours, boy.

May he loose an arm or maybe a leg, who knows, likely the hag.

Well, all three end up in the same place.

With Hermione's bout of courage to whack them with a pan, Percy's protectiveness to get them out as quick as apparating but with legs and Draco's cunning lying to distract the hags, they manage to get out.

Only to end up near the confines of one bastard Gellert Grindelwald.

Anyway, dark rituals ain't only Tom Riddle's special little interest, the world's huge and rich in many cultures.

The many wards, the twisted forests do wonders on freshly acquired trauma in an absolutely negative way.

So what happend is, these three ended up caught in a trafficking ring of a few really nasty dark mages who've been on the watch list of many Wizardry Ministries across Europe at least.

Anyway - by luck, they escape to Egypt (and not really rescued by Bill, poor guy just got a layer of trauma seeing his lil brother falling into cursed quicksand that turns out to be a portal) and get separated. They bounce back and forth between countries.

Meanwhile, the Malfoy's are staging one international intervention after another to get these bastards which makes for a hilarious turnaround as the infamous Lucius Malfoy starts frothing and is after the heads of a few rather nasty dark wizards.

Even more so with the added effort of the Weasley's.

On the non magical side the Granger's went straight to the police and put out a missed poster for their daughter, anxiously ripping into each of their own network to get a clue. At some point they get an update from the wizard police who also check on the non magical side's police (visited country as of yet undecided).

After many anxious weeks the three (and other kidnapped) get back on English soil. Maybe not whole (thanks to a few sacrificing rituals Draco's without a leg), very much traumatized but back.

Their next year is marked with an absence for the first semester because of their stay in St. Mungo's and a quiet comeback for the second one, just in time to smell out the blood of one nasty fucker.

Hermione's head is ready to burst with keeping up with her parents who are confused and scared of the magic world and for her safety but not getting an education is also not an option and other schools require moving which honestly ain't cheap. So she sits tight with headaches in St Mungo's with a somewhat working floo connection so her parents can drop by. Then the school starts, the connection is still working for floo calls just not as frequently as in St Mungo's. But she sits tight, reads as if waiting for who know what. Till Harry and Ron start asking questions and yeah any distraction's welcome (denial is the first stage)

Also because Draco had some really useful blood for rituals, he's now very much keen on burning all dark magic stuff to the ground. (Acceptance comes easy in the shape of utter hatred - this shit cost his leg, his Father ain't gonna stop hearing about it for a while, Narcissa is just glad he's alive and breathing (hopefully not ending up like her sister))

Percy sees the traumatised younglings and starts a crusade of being the most overbearing in charge sergeant on them cause sometimes you latch onto a personality to survive shit and then get attached to these little shits and his head would like to take a break.

It's a mess of tired kids being kids and exhausted adults adulting.

At some point the exhaustion clings to the bones of everyone and everything.

Oh and the basilisk actually gets out into the sunlight.

[pensistent-player]

SS #1

I see a knot. The thread of the knot looks nice - peach colour, cotton, soft texture. But, from my view, it is a huge mess. Oh my God! These knots of all these beautiful threads - chrome yellow, dark pink, royal blue, olive green, blood red, all a knotty mess together.

But no time to sort these out. The creative cabinet, it is. Lots of arts and crafts there for the travellers to get out of their cognitve blocks. After all, in space, especially so far away from home, a clear mind is your best friend.

I am at the resident quarters of the PC-243GN. The entire residing space has been fixed and has become my temporary home - a home far from home. Things and activities like these help me stay fresh, despite the amount of workload I have in my hands.

The entire station is like a pitstop, for daring missions or travels into the black hole. Most of them never return. The some who do, return only to go back and never come again. Nor do they speak anything regarding it despite the numerous efforts, especially scientific efforts. It is as if, the expression of that space has been forbidden outside of it.

My name is Nakul. In my mid-40s, this is the perfect assignment as an outer space repairman. I am an ST-N, Space Technician of the Novice rank. A high paying job, but isolated work environment, as is clearly felt. But, a repairman is a much more grounded term to call me.

Due to being so close to the Event Horizon, in a recent accident, a lot of the station suffered heavy damage, and the debris got sucked into the black hole. When I came, whatever I had on my space pod, was the only support. Now, after repairing the living quarters, I can take rests and use the space properly. As I repair a section, I send out a message back home for supplies to be restocked so that operations can resume faster.

Here I am, 3 months into the assignment. Today, I am to work on the most critical component of the station, the Tethering mechanism. While it is still working, due to damage, its integration with the station has been compromised.

My work seems complicated, but it is really just a lot of button tapping, re-calibration, through my computer, identify problems, which exactly what I am doing right now. In my flow of work, I had failed to notice, as it can happen, that the station was moving. I see a star far away moving towards my left, and me moving towards the black hole on the right.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. The alert goes.

I look in to what is wrong. 'What is happening... This is not good. The station still has a lot of use', I thought as I go through the mechanics, only to see that the solar panels are destroyed.

How? That's the first thing you fix! An asteroid crashed? Seems like that from the shape of the damage. I have to get out of here.

I send an SOS to the HQ. And I ran. However we run, in space, floating from one side to the other. I get to my pod, no problem. It is time to leave. The pods is not starting. Why? Its power has been drained out, used to power the station.

How could I let this happen? My brain was knotted up, to notice it seems...

The view from the window was mesmerising. I get the pod ready for landing, impact, I do not know. I detach the pod from the station.

The pull has grown stronger, much more than what is was before. Every minute, it is getting stronger.

I am into the pull of the black hole. Will I survive? I did not know what to expect. They say, once you enter the black hole, metaphorically, that becomes your death, you are never the same again. I see my parents, smiling, telling me not to be scared, as they did when I was scared of lightning as a kid. The station is nowhere to be seen.

I close my eyes to brace for whatever is to come

[cittielinks]

Where Kim Dokja has been suffering from long dreams. 

He didn’t know when it started really. Maybe it was time his friends stopped caring about him. Or his mother completely left him alone in this vast world? Maybe it was the time when Yoo Joonghyuk got sick and tired of him not believing that Yoo Joonghyuk loved only him.

Perhaps it started long long ago but lately, he had been sleeping a lot lately.  You’d think it would’ve been normal considering the living conditions he is a part of, it would be a surprise he would be sleeping lately.

Kim Dokja never bothered into visiting the doctor with the sudden drowsiness he recently had, he thought maybe stress is finally catching him up that's why he started to sleep almost everywhere.

Then it started to disrupt his living conditions. First his working days, he would always forget to finish all his workload often times he would be too drowsy just by sitting in his office. As such he would always get a scolding from his supervisor.

It got to the point that even Yoo Sangah talked to him. They hadn’t spoken since Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja broke up. 

“Dokja-ssi, I’m worried about you. If you could listen to us the—” 

“No, It doesn’t matter, Ms. Yoo.” 

“Dokja-ssi…” 

“I’ll be sending my resignation. I’ll quit.”

“Dokja-ssi” 

“Then excuse me, Miss Yoo.” 

And he did quit. It’s abrupt but Kim Dokja felt like it was getting in the way with whatever sleeping sickness he had. 

Then it started to annoy him. He would get fainting spells just by standing or when he tries to eat.

It would get him when he wakes up from his sleep. 

It was a mess. This shouldn’t go on the thought. So he decided to just not be a coward and visit a doctor. 

When he entered the hospital,  he saw Yoo Joonghyuk his ex. Their break up was such a mess, he could not remember how it went but he knew Kim Dokja never talked, and yet haven’t seen the others since then sans Yoo Sangah since they were co-workers. 

Maybe seeing his ex in the hospital meant the shouldn’t visit the doctor today. As he turned around Yoo Joonghyuk called to him. 

“Kim Dokja.”

Kim Dokja stopped, his heart quicken then he inhaled. He turned around not meeting Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes. 

“Yoo Joonghyuk,”  he replied, his voice cracked halfway. 

“I’ll be going, see you never.” Kim Dokja added then walked away, Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed his wrist before he could run away.

“We need to talk, Dokja.” 

“No, we don’t” 

“Kim Dokja—” 

“I said no!” He flicked his Yoo Joonghyuk’s hold and ran away.

It took another month for Kim Dokja to visit the hospital, his sleeping spells are starting to ruin his mind.

He went to another hospital just to lessen meeting up with his ex or anyone he knew. 

When Kim Dokja told the doctor about his constant fainting spells, they were clueless at first they thought it was narcolepsy but he has enough orexin that they had to scratch it out.

There wasn’t anything wrong with him or his brain and in the end, he was given multi-vitamins and a number for a therapist.

It took a while for Kim Dokja to finally listen to the doctor’s suggestion. He never wanted therapy but his drowsy spell has become inconvenient for him in his daily life. He looks and feels too shitty to feel alive.

The first thing the therapist suggested was to time all his sleep when and where and how long.

He deduced that the place was not a problem, it usually happens when he feels at his low and the for how long, it's usually around 30 to an hour before he wakes up.

The therapist started telling him to do something tiring before heading to head for the day. 

Then it happened, usually when he gets attacked by sleeping spells he never gets dreams.

This time, however, he has a dream.

In his dream he was a young boy again, his mother never left him and his dad was never around anymore. 

In his very dreams, he was happy with his mother. They were eating cakes, buying snacks, and reading books till dawn.

When he opened his eyes, it took him a while to realize it was but a dream. He laughs. 

What are the odds of having dreams that are not even going to come true? 

Slowly by slowly, he would anticipate sleeping. He never went to his therapist ever, he had stopped going outside anymore, every day he would sleep and dream because, in his very dream, he was happy. Away from the painful experiences in his real life. In his dreams, he was happy with everyone, his mom, his friends, and Yoo Joonghyuk.

His usual 30- 60 minutes of sleeping turned into 2 hours then to 4 and to a maximum of 7 hours. If this was still rational Kim Dokja, wouldn’t let this happen but by now he was consumed by the ecstasy of being happy inside a dream.

The next time Kim Dokja saw Yoo Joonghyuk was when he was doing grocery, still pretty much sleepy after a long fainting spell. He didn’t notice the man until he bump into Yoo Joonghyuk. 

“Kim Dokja.” 

“…” 

Kim Dokja turned around trying to create as much distance, even in this drowsy state he would ever talk to Yoo Joonghyuk in this life. 

“Kim Dokja, please.” He could hear Yoo Joonghyuk begging but Kim Dokja did not falter not anymore. 

But just as he was about to take another step, he almost fell down from the sudden sleepiness and before he hits the ground, Yoo Joonghyuk holds him and then he succumbed to sleep.

“— he should be fine after he wakes up. I apologize there wasn’t anything I could do.” 

“It’s fine. Thank you, Seolhwa”

“Then excuse me, I’ll be going now”

When Kim Dokja opened his eyes, he was met by white walls and murmurs from someone he knew well.

He tried to get up, but he was pushed down gently. 

“You need to rest, you look like shit.” 

Kim Dokja attempted to roll his eyes but it looked so awkward. 

“I’m fine, I don’t need to go here.” 

“No, you are not? You’re obviously sick! If you’re concerned with the bill, I already paid it.” 

Kim Dokja ared qt Yoo Joonghyuk, “What the fuck Yoo Joonghyuk? You think I’m some poor man that I can’t pay my own bill?” 

“No, I—“ 

“Fuck you, You always do everything in your own! You never talked to me about shit like this! You always make me feel like some stupid shit. I am not okay. I can fend for my own! This is why we broke up! I never wanted to see you again ever!” 

By this point Kim Dokja was so tired, he didn’t realize tears were already streaming down his face. Yoo Joonghyuk just stood there taking everything, because at the very least it was his fault this mess happened.

“… I’ll pick you up tomorrow, Kim Dokja. Goodbye.” 

When Kim Dokja heard the click he just stared at the wall, everything hurts. This is the main reason he never wanted to be part of this world.

Not when his dreams are more enticing and happy than what shit he has over here. 

In his dreams his mother is still with him, he got a job he really likes and he has friends. It’s better than being stuck here. If only he could sleep forever.

Kim Dokja never realized that his wish by passing would come true. 

When Yoo Joonghyuk visited again, he cautiously opened the door but the person on the bed was sleeping peacefully.

Yoo Joonghyuk caressed Kim Dokja’s face. It’s been months and Kim Dokja looks worse. His eyebags look prominent, his bones are visible, his jawline is sharp even his skin tone is too pale for a human. It scared Yoo Joonghyuk how his breathing is shallow as if he will be consumed by the world any moment. It scared him and yet even like this Kim Dokja is so pretty. 

Yoo Joonghyuk vowed to be a better person for Kim Dokja. This time for sure. 

“Dokja-yah, wake up. I’m taking you home.” 

There was no response. 

“Kim Dokja?”

Still none. 

“Kim Dokja, this is not funny.” 

..

“Kim Dokja, I will put tomatoes in your food if you don’t wake up.”

..

“Kim Dokja!” 

A ring in his ears and everything was moving fast, so blurry. All he know was that he pressed a button everyone was running towards

Kim Dokja, he was screaming, he thinks? He wasn’t sure anymore. He pushed outside by Lee Seolhwa, he remembered screaming for Kim Dokja. And then he passed out.

No one knows what happened to the man who smiles in his sleep. But everyone for sure knows, he is so much happier in his dreams.

The world where he trapped himself willingly served him much more kindly than the world. At the very least he is happy sleeping.

[unfortunate-beetle-and-friends]

Just so we're all clear, this is not just a problem in countries with even less friendly labour protections than we have in the UK.

I told my last boss, 3 months before my contract was up (an extra month on what was required) that I would not be prepared to renew my contract because the job was doing so much damage to my mental health (at this point I'd already been unable to stop throwing up from stress at least once and I'd been obliged to pay for private therapy to keep me from literally ending my life and I couldn't get NHS therapy on a non-work-day).

He made grumbly noises about having to replace me.

I reminded him I was leaving multiple times during the next three months because I didn't actually want to collapse half his projects by leaving.

Can you guess what happened, children?

Do you think he replaced me in time?

Hahaha, did he fuck.

A couple of weeks before my contract was up, and with no action taken to replace me, he guilt-tripped me into staying another 3 months to train a replacement.

He did actually hire someone. And during those 3 months, training them got added on top of my regular workload. To be clear, I was already working the equivalent of 3 jobs for him. I was a data manager. He also regularly referred to me as his office manager. And whenever he brought his (lovely but demanding) dogs into the office, where 90% of the staff was scared of dogs, it was my job to take care of them - that was the only part of my work life I liked.

With my temporary extra contract nearly up and my replacement doing okay, he leant on my permanent guilt and anxiety to pressure me into staying until Christmas (another 2 months).

I made it 1.

I had a mental breakdown.

I had been literally turning up and being unable to do any work for multiple weeks because my brain was not functioning. I was literally shut down from stress. I could do nothing. I was sobbing at my desk. I was having panic attacks at work.

When my boss eventually found out, he manipulated me into quitting rather than firing me so I wouldn't get the severance I was entitled to.

I was unable to work for years. If my partner hadn't been able to support us both I have no idea what would have happened. My mental health has never returned to the point it was at before that year. My meds have tripled - thank fuck I don't live in a country with fully privatised healthcare. I've been in and out of therapy. I have repeatedly been a danger to my own safety. That year was 2016. Any time I have attempted to return to a regular hours job for someone else, I have given up after a couple of weeks of impossible fatigue and panic attacks.

I'm now self-employed, working with animals. It's... better. But stress is still a huge and constant problem for me. I struggle more than ever to protect my time from work demands. (I required surgery on my hand after a work injury before Christmas. I was back at work within 4 hours of waking up from the general anaesthetic.)

Being pressured to work in ways you cannot can do so much deep and lasting harm. If you can get out, get the fuck out. Save yourself. That employer was literally a family friend before I worked for him. Now I can't be in a room with him without trauma responses kicking in. It literally doesn't matter if your boss is a friend. If they demand unreasonable things of you, they aren't any more. You are not required to sacrifice yourself for someone else's profits. If they reject the reasonable means of protecting their income from the effects an employee leaving (eg. by training a replacement in a timely manner), that is their problem, not yours. Any other employees' suffering as a result is their fault, not yours.

[potentialhomunculus]

My perspective on the whole AI art thing is that if AI is being used to reduce the workload of animators and digital artists while they’re still able to create their art, great. If someone wants to go on DeepSeek and generate a sexy anime girl, I do not gaf. This is not the biggest issue with AI. Like at all. Some people get so intensely upset about AI art because it “lacks a soul” which is an odd take considering the existence of AI art in no way takes away from the incredible skill of artists. It’s objectively cool that someone can make incredible works of art on their own. It’s cool that a machine can do it too, but just kind of less cool because it’s a machine. It’s not evil or ethically wrong, just kind of cringey when someone idk posts their big booby anime girl generated from a shitty prompt and is like look at my AI art. It’s cringe but it’s not an ethical issue really, and it’s only cringe because the anime girl probably has 10 fingers on each hand and one mega tit instead of two. Obviously AI taking jobs from actual artists rather than being used to automate the shitty unbearable parts of their work and reduce stress is terrible but that’s because those people then won’t be able to find work or will suffer financially, not because the art produced by said AI is “soulless” or because we as a society need to remain technologically stagnant. AI can be a great tool when used by workers to automate the shit from a butt parts of their jobs or even automate their job altogether so they can do something more fulfilling for themselves or even just help operate/work alongside the AI, if that’s what they choose to do.

I also think artists saying that people using AI directly takes money from them is. An odd take. I don’t quite know why yet because I’m tired and having a shit day but. Idk. Like I am actively a writer and I think that selling AI books (idk if this is a thing) would be stupid not because it takes money from me personally but because the book probably just isn’t good lol. AI isn’t great at long form projects and is often incorrect. I have no issue with someone generating AI fanfiction for personal entertainment because uh. Why would I?? Do what brings you joy. I’m happy to write the fanfiction for you for like $10 but why would I fucking care if you used AI instead?? Maybe you don’t have $10 and just want to giggle at a silly AI fanfiction. I do fundamentally believe that you should learn to draw and write on your own, not because using AI is soulless, but because it’s fun and good for your brain. The world is on fire I do not gaf if someone wants to AI generate a big booby anime girl instead of paying me $25 to draw her. Human made art is typically just objectively better not because it has a “soul” but because of the attention to detail, intentional brush strokes, cultural relevance, quality, etc. AI art isn’t all that great for the same reason that AI essays aren’t that great—it’s not inherently an ethical issue, it’s an issue of quality.

[anothersebastianblog]

i know anon and you don't mean it badly but sometimes it surprises me how surprised people are (not the haters but the neutrals/our side) when they see the two of them together.

//

Hiya, anon here who had admitted to being a hater once (and I highly believe I've been talked about on this blog before) but finally outgrew this toxic cycle on the internet and grew some brain cells. Don't know if anyone remembers. BUT, this isn't my point. What I wanted to say is, the hater side is so fully convinced that this "PR" relationship is some evil work of a management who wants to see their client "suffer" in order to gain popularity and award talk. They are convinced, and I had many conversations via DM with a bunch of people on Twitter, that Sebastian absolutely despises Annabelle and is two seconds away from jumping off a cliff. Now this may be old news to you but that's why they always get an outburst when they are (logically) seen together.

As for the people you describe as "our side", I think it's just a reaction that comes naturally because they are usually so private and we don't get 138472948 pap pics of them every week. It's not meant in a way that it's "shocking" for them to see them together but just maybe a little jump of joy that they found time, despite their crazy workload, to be together and to be organically spotted together. There's no bad intentions behind it. Just happy feelings for them.

.

[pragatileadershipindia]

Creating a Supportive Work Environment: The Significance of Bonding for Well-being

Is bonding at the workplace necessary or is it just one of those fluffy concepts that can be safely ignored?

In the workplace, bonding refers to the development of strong connections and relationships among co-workers.

My aim here is not to elaborate on the organisational benefits of bonding or for that matter wax eloquent about how bonding has been an active ingredient in almost every great achievement for mankind. Rather I would like to take this very personally. I mean I would like to explore the concept of bonding from a very individualistic point of view. An attempt to answer the proverbial ‘what’s in it for me?’ type of question.

Let me start at the start then. From an evolutionary standpoint, the mammalian brain evolved to exist and thrive in groups, herds, prides and tribes. The very essence of this evolution was the ability to co-exist with others of the same species. Existence itself depended on the ability to form relationships and perform the duties and tasks assigned to an individual within a group. We as humans still carry this blueprint. Our brain chemistry being the case in point. Bonding with another individual releases a neurochemical called Oxytocin. Oxytocin is also called the ‘love hormone’ and is copiously present in the brains of people in love. Oxytocin is what bonds the mother to her newborn as well.

So what does workplace bonding do to an individual?

Workplace bonding involves the establishment of emotional connections, mutual trust, and camaraderie among individuals. It can manifest in various forms, including friendships, mentorships, and teamwork. Humans are social beings wired for connection. Bonding fulfils our innate need for belongingness and affiliation.

In the workplace, bonding fosters intrinsic motivation, enhances collaboration, and creates a sense of psychological safety. People who feel connected to their colleagues are more engaged, satisfied, and productive.

A very interesting finding on bonding and meaningful social connections relates to the Blue Zones. These are regions with exceptionally long-living populations. Research indicates that strong social bonds positively influence mental and physical well-being, reduce stress, and enhance overall health. Workplace bonding, therefore, not only improves job satisfaction but also contributes to employees’ long-term health. Bonding, therefore, is the X factor that is responsible for well-being, health and longevity.

Why has bonding at the workplace suffered lately?

Remote work has become increasingly prevalent, posing unique challenges to workplace bonding. Reduced face-to-face interactions can hinder the development of personal connections and trust among team members. Informal communication, impromptu brainstorming sessions, and shared experiences are limited in remote settings, which can further weaken bonding. Several factors contribute to the decline in workplace bonding. Technological dependency and isolation can lead to a lack of authentic human interactions. High workloads and time constraints may leave employees with limited opportunities to connect on a personal level. Additionally, the absence of shared experiences and team-building activities can hinder the formation of strong bonds.

The question therefore is – should you bother about those team bonding events or those offsites or the team lunches and dinners?

…and the answer is no! Don’t bother.

Don’t bother if a sense of trust, belongingness, affiliation and well-being are not important to you.

Don’t bother if you are not serious about sticking around in the organisation for a while.

Don’t bother if this is just another ‘job’ and not a serious step in career building for you.

Don’t bother if you are not aspiring for leadership roles in the future.

Don’t get me wrong! I am not saying bonding only happens at these events but truth be told these are platforms that bring people together. These events create opportunities that may not get created in the natural course of work given the remote/hybrid working environment.

The next time, therefore, whenever you get an invite for one of these events, think Oxytocin!

[theewritingroomm]

A Friendly Favor

Summary: Eddie wants your help asking Chrissy out. Unaware that you have feelings for your best friend.  Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader (platonic), mentions of Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham Word Count: 612 A/N: Hella short and kinda angsty drabble. Let me know if y’all want more or a second part. 

I do NOT consent to my work being translated or published onto third party sites - including AO3 and Wattpad. 

Eddie ran into Family Video where you and Robin were busy stocking the shelves before the afternoon rush. The young man, once through the door, made a quick beline for you. He skidded to a stop next to you, nearly falling into the display you had painstakingly put together and sending it to the floor. You sent Eddie a quick glare which did little to wipe the smile from his face. 

“How is my favorite Family Video employee?” He asked. 

From across the store Steve Harrington yelled out a quick “Dude”. Eddie and you laughed at this. 

“Busy Eds.” You rescinded, moving to the next display. 

But despite the workload you were currently suffering through, the mere presence of your best friend was already doing wonders for your mood. 

“Well I just thought you would want to know who I just spent most of the afternoon with.” 

“Ozzy,” you teased. 

At the teasing tone in your voice Eddie placed a quick flick to your shoulder. He rolled his eyes and chuckled. 

“I fuckin’ wish,” Eddie placed his hands on your shoulders. “But no, I spent all afternoon with Chrissy Cunningham. And she’s so…” 

At the mention of her name you tuned out the rest of what your best friend was saying. Chrissy was everything you were not. She was popular and nice whereas you were looped in with the “freaks” and spoke your mind too much for your small town. She was pretty and knew it while you often stuck to shirts you had stolen from Eddie. There were no two people more different in the town of Hawkins. It was no wonder that she had caught the attention of Eddie Munson. 

That much was obvious by the dreamy look in Eddie’s eyes. 

Your heart clenched within your chest. A plethora of emotions running through your mind. But you willed them all down. Wanting to hide the pain that flooded your veins from your best friend. 

“That’s awesome Eds,” you plastered a smile on your face. “How was it?” 

Eddie sighed gently, a small smile pulling at the edge of his lips. “It was amazing. She so nice and so fucking funny. Like, I think I may like her.” 

Your heart plummeted. 

“Really?” you asked, hoping that Eddie couldn’t pick up on the faux joy lacing your words. 

“Yeah, but I really need your help Y/N.” Eddie fiddled with his rings. Nervous that you were going to say no. “I don’t know how to ask her out without being a complete idiot.” 

You took in a shallow breath. Hoping that it would stop your heart from racing right out of your chest. 

“I’ll stop by after work. We’ll come up with a killer plan.” You shook his hands off of your shoulders. “There's no way in hell she’ll be able to say no.” 

Eddie threw his hands in the air. Wide, goofy smile took over his face as he laughed. “You’re the fuckin’ best Y/N!.” 

Eddie ruffled your hair quickly before practically skipping out of the store. You watched him dumbfounded until he was climbing into his van and driving away. 

Robin peeked her head around the display. From there she was able to take in the pain maring your features. The way your mouth hung open slightly in shock. The way your eyebrows were pulled together, seemingly questioning what had just happened. And finally the way your arms wrapped around your stomach in an attempt to comfort yourself. 

“He doesn’t know that you’re in love with him, does he?” Robin asked, her gentle voice barely penetrating the roaring thoughts in your brain. 

You simply shook your head in response.

[wol-fica]

-𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤 ℙ𝕋. 𝟞-

parings - wednesdayaddams x fem!reader

summary - wednesday and r learn about the wonderful world of taxes sksksksk

warnings - swearing but that’s it my dudes

an - big thanks to @myfturn for requesting this to become a series <3 ——————————

In your opinion, whoever invented weather was a terrible person. Winter nights in New Jersey were absolutely awful, considering the cold drop in temperatures and the humid air, you were suffering. Your body couldn’t decide if it wanted to bundle up under the covers or get away from them, which was excruciatingly annoying.

It also didn’t help that your heater had recently given up on you. Normally, you would assume your appliances in your luxurious gothic mansion would work perfectly, but all hell was against you and decided to make you suffer in the cold.

So that is why you were bundled up in your wife’s hoodie as you curled up by your fireplace. Payment files and your monthly taxes for november were spewed out around you as you jotted things down on a notebook. Your lip was in between your teeth, being chewed on gently as you calculated the prices for your water bill and electricity bill.

A frown of confusion made its way onto your face and you mumbled a small “fuck” as you stared at your water bill tax for the past three months. Your brain didn’t seem to want to work with you, so none of the written material was clicking as you read it.

Unfortunately, Nevermore never offered a personal finance or real world class, and now that you are an actual adult with an actual life you have to take care of, you felt overwhelmed and lost.

Usually Wednesday would be the one doing your taxes, being that she is the smarter out of the two of you. But, you being as stubborn as ever, you scolded her and told her you both needed to share the workload as you were now married and would share everything almost equally.

“Fuck!” You cursed again, throwing your pen away from yourself in frustration.

Now you could go ask Wednesday for help, you always did when you were frustrated or upset about things, but you acted cocky and overconfident about doing your taxes by yourself, in which she got irritated and told you not to ask her for any assistance.

Your eyes squinted at the pen, watching it roll around before stopping by the door to Wednesday’s private writing room. You could hear the faint ‘click clack’ of her type writer as she worked on chapter three of her fourth book. The full series could be see on a shelf in your bedroom; you would occasionally grab one to read and enjoy if you were bored.

You stared at the fire, it’s crackling becoming a comfort for you as you attempted to relax your emotions. For awhile, you just sat there, basking in the warmth and ignoring the tax papers laid out on the floor. You knew you needed to do them, and you knew the only way you could would be to ask Wednesday for help.

After contemplating your life or your pride, you caved in and chose to go request her presence. Carefully, as to not loose your cocooned shape, you stood up and shuffled to Wednesday’s office door. Your hand raised, pausing in a moment of hesitation before knocking on the wooden surface.

“Come in.” A voice called, prompting you to open the door.

There, was your gorgeous wife. Her usually braided hair was unbraided and tied back in a half up half down style as her wavy black locks cascaded around her shoulders. She was dressed in an over large white shirt and black panties, and surprisingly her feet were coved in fluffy black socks that you got her for valentine’s day.

Her back was to you, her legs tucked under her chair as she poured her little black heart out onto the pages of her book. You watched as her fingers danced across the typewriter, pause, and then begin typing again as she found a new perspective to write.

“You knocked.” Wednesday said as she typed speedily.

You gulped, pursing your lips as you shuffled forward so you stood beside her, peering over her shoulder at the paragraphs she had been writing. One of her hands slid away from the keys to caress your thigh, her thumb rubbing your hip lovingly.

“What do you need mi amor?” She questioned, her black eyes focused on her page.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you leaned into her comforting touch. The hand that was previously rubbing your thigh now wrapped itself around your waist, pulling you into Wednesday’s side as you stood.

“Y/N.” She said softly, pressing her lips to your arm, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m frustrated.” You huffed, leaning your body into her as she continued typing.

“About…”

“Doing taxes…” You grumbled, a pout forming on your face.

Wednesday scoffed, squeezing you lightly as she finished her page. She gave your arm another kiss and hummed against your skin.

“I thought you didn’t want my assistance.” She replied as you pushed off of her, standing up to follow you.

“Well I didn’t, at first.” You mumbled, leading her to the fireplace where all of your papers were thrown about the floor, “Then I realized I wasn’t as smart as you.”

“You’re just now realizing?” She smirked slightly, sitting down on the carpet as you gawked in disbelief.

“My feelings are hurt.”

“That IS my job, is it not?”

“Nes...” You groaned, hiding your head in your hands.

“I’m joking, do you have a pen?” Wednesday asked, looking under a few papers for your previously chucked pen.

You nodded, walking to her door to retrieve the pen you threw from before, and came back to give it to her and sit with her.

Immediately she got to work, her eyes skimming each paper as she calculated numbers and signed her signature on certain papers that needed it. Your eyes shamelessly scanned across her face, taking in the small details that had you encapsulated every time you saw her. The freckles that dotted her face, the way her eyebrows scrunched up when she was focused, how her tongue would sneak out in between her lips as she worked.

“Stop staring at me.” She murmured, bumping her knee against yours.

You laughed, resting your chin in your hands as you gazed at with with a love drunk stare. She was your muse, your drug that made you feel all woozy inside; of course you couldn’t not stare.

“Done.” Wednesday finally said, setting the pen down on a neat pile of papers.

“How?!” You exclaimed in awe, staring at the finished tax envelopes.

She chuckled, music to your ears, and pulled herself into your lap. She unwound the blanket so she could slip into your cocoon, humming at the warmth you produced.

“I’m just flawless, cara mia.” Wednesday mumbled into your neck, placing yet another kiss there; her favorite spot.

“You sure are, mon cher.”

She blushed, landing you a sharp jab to your stomach that left you whining in pain as you doubled over against her. Her hand snaked around you jaw to inspect your face, her other hand running up you shirt to feel your ribs for any damage.

“You’ll be fine.” Wednesday droned before snuggling into you and staring into the fire.

You smiled, your arms going around her body to hold her closely. Silence was a precious part of your relationship, whether you both work in the same room quietly, or just gaze into the night skin together on the roof.

After a moment or so, Wednesday started to drift off into sleep, a small snore leaving her slightly parted lips as you cuddled her. In the rare chance that this happens, you soak in the peacefulness of just being able to love and protect her without her potentially getting angry with you.

What a wonderful world….

—————-

*sobbing*

taglist:

@theafterofnevermore @k1mba @dreaming-of-u @thenextdawn @alexkolax @crystal-lily-101 @aahdiieb @rainbow-love4ever @fall-08 @efectoangel @i984 @annalestern @vorsdany @deep-fried-egg @yomomisgay @cursedchar

i do not give permission for anyone to repost or copy my work onto any other platform

[sofasoap]

Interlude : Fracturing heart 

Pairing : Din Djarin x f!reader.  featuring Grogu.

Summary: sequel  to Heartbreak,  Wrenching heart and  Mending Heart .

Reader’s past is catching up to her.  A short interlude. 

Slightly AU-ish, Din didn’t get N1 after Razor Crest got blown up.he got something similar.

Warning : Mature theme. strong languages. 

English isn’t my first language, so I apologise for any mistakes. 

A/N:For my sweet @groguspicklejar and @deakyjoe. sorry.I seriously did not expect this to turn into a multi-part story. Originally it was going to be one-shot.. But every time I get to the end of a chapter my brain goes “ BAH, let’s go for angst end and cliffhanger, so everyone can suffer! ( including myself )”

MASTERLIST for prequel and sequel to the series.

Warm wind, and sea of grass.

You close your eyes and enjoy the wind blowing across your face.  You can hear the sound of laughter not far away from you.

Opening your eyes again, you see Grogu and two children with curly brown hair running around amongst the flower field. 

“Cyar’ika.” A tenor voice whispered behind you as he pulled you into an embrace. Soft kisses peppering your face. His hand glided down towards your swollen stomach.

“I cannot wait to meet our ik’aad.”

You lean back into his chest.

You feel happiness. Love.

You want to turn around and see him. To see his face. The face of your beloved.

“Ret'urcye mhi”

Your eyes open.

Kriff, you've been having this exact same dream again and again for days, since your reunion with Din. Get over it! You slap yourself on the face. This man really will be the end of you. Is the kriffing Force trying to intervene again and tell you something?

Stop fantasising about him, Better get up and get on with your day. There’s a lot of work that needs to be done. Dragging yourself out from your cot and doing all your morning routines, you see Peli is already up and about, barking orders at her droids.

“OI! Don’t touch that screw…. Wait, I told you to move that over there yesterday! Oh hey, you are up.” Peli greets as she spots you.

“Sorry I slept in a bit.” putting down your caf on the crate beside the speeder, you start taking the panels apart.

“Bah, you need your rest. Besides, you've been working like mad lately for weeks,a bit of sleep-in doesn’t kill.”  Peli paused a bit, putting down her holopad. “ You know I can cope with the workload here by myself right?” Hinting at the excuse you have given to Din not to follow him straight away.

Putting your tools down, you pick up the cup of caf again. “ Peli, THANK YOU for your concern, everyone is trying to push us back together, even the force! But I am not ready yet.” Fiddling around with the cup, sighing. “I may have accepted part of his apology, but I just need time to get my thoughts together. He needs it too.”

Truth to be told, you want to follow him. The tuck between logic and heart, and logic is winning at the moment.  Downing the rest of the caf you got back to work.

Rest of the day went quite quickly, you and Peli plus the droid works well as a team, you like working here ( even the sand getting into little cracks of everything you own really annoys you ) You feel like the time back in Coruscant, happy again, doing what you are good at, your dream job.

Peli is a good boss, she is almost like an aunty to you. A loud mouth blunt aunty. But she is caring in her own way.

You heard a little coo sound coming from beside you, looking down you were surprised to see Grogu there. You swear this little green pea must have learnt some stealth ability from Master Luke. 

“ OH! Hello little Pea, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon!” You pick him up and give him a kiss on the wrinkly forehead. While scratching his ear, you see Din walking up to you from the corner of your eyes. 

Tilting your head, you are confused why he is here already. It's only been over a month since you two have the talk.  You did tell him specifically not to come back again for a few more months.

Stopping right in front of you, he opened his palm.

A bounty puck and a tracking fob? is that his latest gift for you?

You look back up at him again, with total confusion. 

The tracking fob started beeping like mad, he activated the puck, an image of your younger self, without scar, appeared.

Remembering what Din usually says to his bounty, 

“ I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”

Your blood just ran cold. 

Din you stupid ass.

Sorry this is only a short interlude. I feel this is a good place to break the story up and leading to the next bit.

Taglist

@frogtits1, @READINGFAN, @memester-png @jake-g-lockley @novaethecosplayer @foxgirl95 @gloryekaterina  

Thank you so much for reading, any likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 😀

[kirain]

I started playing rdr2 but stopped because like idk but I can't seem to get over the fact that all the women are prostitutes and they don't really have any important roles. Like what's Abigail do? Ooh she's a mother who's always mad? What do the other women do? Oooh they sleep with the gang. What's Sadie do? Oooh she becomes a badly written femme fetale who suddenly becomes a flawless killer. The women are just so badly represented.

I get the feeling you didn't play the game naturally or see any random encounters, because none of what you said is true. There's a lot to unpack here, so let's start with the "all the women are prostitutes" comment.

First of all, none of the women are prostitutes, a fact that deeply irritates Micah. During a coach robbery where he rides with Arthur and Bill, he even says, “Why the hell do we need a gaggle of girls who won’t even fuck you if you put a gun to their head? Is it too much to ask considering they get a piece of every damn dollar I bring in?” Poor baby. He even tries to proposition all of the women (Grimshaw included), but they all insult him and send him running with his tail between his legs. It’s hilarious and I love it. Arthur also responds to Micah with, “Everyone does their share. I don’t see you lifting a finger around camp.”

Now a bit about the girls:

Mary-Beth was a skilled pickpocket, but she ended up being caught by a group of her victims. She mentions this during a conversation with Arthur, where she points out how hard it was for women who came from nothing, and the inequality of it all. RDR2 actually regularly highlights how difficult frontier/outlaw life was for women back then, often pulling zero punches. While fleeing her pursuers, Mary-Beth luckily ran into Hosea, who helped her escape and welcomed her to the gang. You can see Dutch lusting after her a few times, because he's an old pervert, but she always shuns his advances. She was never a prostitute and she was actually underage when she joined.

Tilly was a child outlaw and a member of the Forman gang from the age of twelve. She ended up killing the leader's cousin because he [as is heavily implied] tried to rape her. She was around sixteen at the time and tried to return to her mother after the ordeal, but she unfortunately passed away while Tilly was running with the Formans. Out of options, she eventually joined the van der Linde gang after Dutch saved her from some unspecified trouble. You can find most of this out during one of my favourite side missions, where she gets kidnapped by Anthony Foreman in retaliation for killing his cousin. With Grimshaw’s help, you can rescue Tilly and put an end to it once and for all. She was never a prostitute and was also underage when taken in.

Susan Grimshaw was one of the original members of the gang and one of Dutch's first lovers. They parted amicably and both fell in love with other people (Dutch with Annabelle, and Susan with a doctor who sadly ended up dying), but she stayed with the gang because of their mutual respect for each other. She later became the arbiter of the camp and a kind of surrogate mother to Arthur, John, and the other girls. She was never a prostitute, but rather a rough-and-tumble outlaw.

Karen is a little more complicated. Overall, she was a scam artist (Hosea even called her an “actress”) who sometimes lured men into brothels, then stole from them or picked their brains for leads. That doesn't necessarily mean she was a prostitute; however, it just means she used sex as a manipulation tactic. Out of all the women in the group, she was the freest and most unconventional. She also stood on guard duty and participated in heists. The only man she ever slept with in game was Sean, and his death absolutely devastated her. If you talk to her or observe her interactions, you also discover she’s a raging alcoholic suffering from some very deep-seated issues. She likely did have to do things she wasn’t proud of in order to survive, but in my opinion that makes her one of the most realistic members of the group. She was never described as a prostitute.

Molly was an aristocrat who left her family to be with Dutch. His abusive treatment eventually led her to suffer an identity crisis, where she ended up hysterical and heartbroken. Her story is sad, but she was never a prostitute. If anything, Molly is the best example we have that Dutch views people as items, not human beings.

Abigail is the only prostitute in the game, but by the events of RDR2 she's an ex-prostitute. To say she's nothing more than "a mother who's always mad", I feel, does her character a great disservice. First of all, she left that profession behind to raise her son, to give him a decent chance in life. Unlike John, she stepped up immediately to become a responsible adult. I don't think people realise how impressive that is because, one, she could've easily abandoned Jack at the roadside (which was common back then), two, she could've induced an abortion, and three, she was quite young when she had him; around nineteen years old.

You say the women are "poorly represented", but they're stronger, smarter, and more mature than most of the men. A few of them even become self-sufficient in the turn of the century, something dear old Dutch couldn't even do/accept. Abigail in particular helps Sadie mourn her husband and the two grow very close. Their interactions are both grounded and heartwarming, with Abigail telling Sadie she’ll suffer the loss of her husband, but that it’ll get better if she keeps on living. She takes care of her, and Sadie later returns that kindness. These women are so full of quirks and humour and personality, I don’t know how you missed it.

As for Sadie ... where do I even begin? Badly written? Femme fatale? Flawless killer? Sadie is one of the best written characters. She's not flawless, she's exceptionally flawed, temperamental, and traumatised. It's never expressly stated, but it's implied at several points throughout the game that she was repeatedly assaulted while the O'Driscolls kept her captive. At first, she's petrified and miserable, to the point that all she does is cry and express suicidal ideation. Then, she gets angry. Very angry. Having nothing left to live for, her home and husband torn from her grasp, she throws herself headfirst into danger, which almost gets her killed on a number of occasions.

She's not a "flawless killer", she's a messy killer. She's not an expert death-dealer, and that's made evident from the start -- but she was a hunter who shared the workload with her husband, so it's not as if her skills just magically appeared. You do see how much it weighs on her, however, near the end of chapter six. If you help her kill the rest of the O'Driscolls, she laments what she's become because she thinks her husband would be horrified. She’s extremely complex and struggles between mourning and moving on.

I also can't help but laugh at the "femme fatale" accusation, because Sadie actually defeminises herself, which is understandable considering the hell she’s suffered. She even wears men's clothing, which wasn't illegal [anymore] back then, but it was openly frowned upon. Femme fatales use their beauty and sexuality to their advantage, ensnaring men with their feminine wiles. Sadie never does that and fights side-by-side with the boys. Interestingly enough, that's partially why Calamity Jane, an actual historical figure, garnered so much attention, because of how she behaved/dressed. It’s pretty clear to me that Rockstar might’ve used her as inspiration for Sadie. This was a real woman who lived from 1852 to 1903.

In addition, Sadie plays one of the most important roles, yet she does so without falling into the category of a Mary-Sue. She saves the gang and moves them to a new location when the Pinkertons attack Shady Belle. She hatches the plan that frees John from prison. She helps Arthur rescue Abigail after she gets kidnapped. She tracks down Micah and puts an end to his reign of terror. But most of what she does she accomplishes with a partner--Arthur or John--both of whom she respects immensely. No one, not even Arthur, does everything alone, and when they do there’s usually negative consequences. It's the camaraderie and shared experiences that make these characters successful, and aside from Charles and Hosea, I’d even argue that the women are more well-rounded and fleshed out than the men.

I gather from for comments that you didn't finish the game, so I hate to spoil it, but I kind of have to if you walked away with this mindset. The women of RDR2 are a force to be reckoned with.

[coochiequeens]

Ladies, if someone calls you selfish for taking care of yourself flip the script and ask them “isn’t it selfish to ask me to take on more when I already feel so burnt out?��

After working too hard for years, I got cancer. The experience taught me that taking care of ourselves isn’t selfish. It’s the best thing for us and the people around us.

You’re being selfish.

That is the insult that is often used to deter women from taking care of themselves. Women are usuallyexpected to nurture others and not themselves.

But what if women are giving too much? What if this imbalance is creating ailments, illnesses, and mental health issues that are creating a generation of women who are sick and tired of being sick and tired?

In 2018, I was working as a psychotherapist in private practice, seeing clients who were sharing their most traumatic moments and heartaches with me six days a week, often until 9:30 p.m. The long days, emotional load, and burden of having to be their life raft were overwhelming in themselves, but then I also had to start and end my days as a wife and mother to two very young children.

The seeds of my burnout were planted long before then. During grad school, I developed an aggressive case of shingles, an illness that is mostly seen in older people with a weakened immune system; researchers believe that shingles can also be caused by intense levels of stress. A few years later, I suffered from postpartum depression after the birth of both of my children, as I had no maternity leave and a caseload of clients who needed me to come back to work before I was physically and emotionally ready.

But I kept going, battling brain fog, the constant feeling of being overwhelmed, and a mix of depression and anxiety that lasted for years. I told myself I had to, no matter how exhausted I was, because being selfless is what women are supposed to do.

Then, in 2018, at 29 years old, with two small children at home, I was diagnosed with cervical cancer. I was completely blindsided.

My care team consisted of some of the best doctors in the Philadelphia area, and thankfully I made a full recovery. But the experience shook me and forced me to reexamine my life and my choices. I realized that if I didn’t ever put myself first, my health would suffer. I realized I needed to start being selfish.

And I’m asking every woman to join me.

The need is urgent. Since the pandemic started, women have taken on even more roles than they had before. We’ve seen women juggling full-time careers, teaching responsibilities, housekeeping duties, and mental load-bearing in ways that we might not have been able to fathom just a few short years ago. And, of course, they are expected to do so with a smile.

We are taught to be selfless, and our mental and physical health is suffering because of this.

I believe that women need to prioritize moments of selfishness and rewrite the narrative of gender roles and expectations. If we can incentivize women to be selfish in the same ways that we do so with men (who get ample time for watching sports, or playing video games, or doing some “male-bonding”), we will likely see a multitude of positive results, including decreased rates of physical and mental health issues amongst women. And when we’re happier and healthier, so, too, will be the people around us. (See? You can even argue that it’s selfless to be selfish sometimes.)

This type of “self-care” will look different to everyone. It may be asking for more leave from work, setting boundaries by saying no to more things, renegotiating who does what with your partner to try and even out the household workload, or scheduling a night out with friends. It means prioritizing your needs and the things you want, whatever they are, in an effort to feel more balanced.

This Labor Day, let’s send the women in our lives an “anti-Labor Day” message — tell them to be a little selfish, and put themselves first.

Danielle Massi is the CEO of The Wellness Collective, a holistic healing space in Philadelphia, and the founder of the SELF(ISH)philly Conference.

[capriccio-con-espressione]

Hotspot | Pt.2 (Sheepish)

Genre: Smut 

Word Count: 2739

Warning: Sub!Yangyang, (Hard)Dom!Reader, Femdom, Degradation, Profanity, Edging, Overstimulation, Humiliation (Slight exhibitionism), Hair pulling, Light face slapping (where reader is being attentive), Spanking, Gagging (Pet muzzle), Vibrating butt plug, Pet play, Leaving marks, Bondage (Pet anchor), Neglect play, Pegging, Fake cum (YY chokes on it askghkdjs), YY cries lol

A/N: Happy sort of belated birthday to our bratty Yangyang! I hope this feeds the painstaking lack of sub!Yangyang smut on this app! Fellow doms (esp if you are a hard one) enjoy!

╔══════════════╗

  “Now what?” Yangyang grins upon locking the door to your usual playroom, yet despite his cheeky attitude, you can see how his expressions begin to falter as he sees the full-fledged equipment on display on the bed.

  "What? Use your smart ass brain to think yourself, brat." You hiss. "You know what's coming, strip."

  "Why should I?" Yangyang pouts.

  "Don't make me force you. You're smart enough to know that you shouldn't test my patience, hmm?" You coldly demand as you hand him the garments he’s going to wear during the play. “Remember the spankings you owe me?” You tease his chin with the paddle that you know which intimidates him so much as he gulps with somehow anticipation and fear while busy sliding clothes off.

  “O-o-of course.” Yangyang stutters, “But why this?” He motions at the white mesh undershirt you’re handing him, which is decorated with a few white fabric flowers that slightly resemble splotches of wool on it.

  “Aren’t you Mistress’ Slutty Little Lamb?” You smirk knowingly, while helping him slide the mesh over his head. “You need to be well-prepped for the play later that is going to make you hot and bothered like the hotspot you already are…” 

  “Ugghhh.” Yangyang facepalms at the thought of the embarrassing SSID you just made him change and all the humiliation he had just endured. “No way you’re making me feel like that when you’re being this heartlessly cruel on me-”

  “Oh really?” You cock your eyebrow as you’re palming his crotch, making the smart-mouthed boy gasp in response. “Already visibly hard just putting this fabric on, I find it hard to believe that you don’t like what’s coming next.”

  You then insert the white furry tail plug inside him after some profuse lubing, before commanding him to get on his knees, securing the white choker and chain on him and giving it a firm tug.

  “Now you’d better sit and behave like a sheepish little lamb you should be or otherwise there’d be more consequences-”

  “Consequences of what? More spankings? Is that the only type of punishment you can only think of?” Yangyang’s eyes gleams with defiance while he sneers. “Why would you think I would let you boss me around just because now you have me dressed in this stupid attire?”

  You shake your head in disappointment, “I thought I could go easier on you this time, brat. “ You hiss while giving a firm tug from the roots of the boy’s hair. “Guess the humiliation play on the SSID wasn’t enough, huh?”

  “So what exactly is the consequence, huh, O Mistress?” Yangyang still retorts with a smirk despite his wincing from your pull. “Bet you could never come up with a better one other than a spanking- hngghh!”

  Yangyang’s riposte is cut short by a slap across his face, with your other hand cradling the other side of his cheek as a secure, exactly like you two had agreed on. “Now you’ve wasted your chance of winning my gentleness.” You purr menancingly into the boy’s ear while still pulling on the chain. “You want to be a sharp-tongued brat? Go ahead and be one then even with this on.”

  You reach for the pet muzzle and white leather handcuffs hidden under the sheets on the bed, after taking a mental note to thank yourself for hiding it beforehand to win over that bratty boy, you immediately secure them around his snout and wrists, rendering him into a whiny struggling mess, glaring up at you.

  “Well?” You grin as you pull hard on the chain, forcing the boy to crawl forward in a pathetically restrained manner. “Are you satisfied with this little punishment now? My cocky little brat?”

  You then command him to follow your lead, to the silver wall anchor designated for this session and make a quick effort securing the chain to it, before dishing out another pair of handcuffs, cuffing both Yangyang’s hands to his ankles, and looking back to his indignant stare.

  “Aww no use glaring at me like that, you untamed little brat.” You smirk knowingly. Just then a notification popped up on your phone, it’s from your staff team groupchat, and your supervisor has tagged you in it, in order to ask you about the details of upcoming projects of new shootings.

  “What a pleasant surprise,” You simper while waving your phone at Yangyang. “Somehow I need to answer something important, and you’d better wait up-” A jolt goes through Yangyang’s body as he lets out a weak whimper and crumbles back on his knees. “Because I conveniently forgot to remind you, that this fucking plug fucking vibrates.” You smirk while turning the vibrations to the lowest settings via your phone app to tease the boy, before hopping on the bed far enough that the boy can never reach, and going back to your phone to make discussions with your supervisor.

  In just a few minutes, Yangyang is soon trapped in a haze of unfulfilled lust, the vibrator doing vicious tricks to his sweetest spot, yet he can’t fuss with his voice and words as usual to win your attention and make you do something about it. All he can do now is to fuck his dick against the soft mattress-covered side of the bed, his head hanging on the edge of it to stare at your focused form, eyes filled with frustration.

  But you soon noticed his misbehavior with the continuous rocking of the bed. “Stop it, you perverted little brat.” You come down from the bed to make a few more ties of the chain on the anchor to make him unable to reach the bed, obviously annoyed. “You are making me unable to focus on my job.” You icily state as you switch up the vibrator to the medium settings, making the boy arch his back and lower his head, with his cock twitching vulnerably, in response. “Dare to get yourself off without my permission earns more fucked-out rounds for you, understand, you fucking little bratty lamb?”

  You try hard to focus on responding to your supervisor’s demanding questions in time and with ease without the little snorts and pathetic noises Yangyang makes beside you to have any effect on your functioning rationality. Just when waiting for the response from the groupchat, you see the sinful sight of Yangyang fidgeting and pacing on the floor, giving you the most pleading and vulnerable look he’s ever gave you, the look so meek and cute which would’ve granted him sooner release if he’d always been this obedient. Internally giving yourself a gleeful smile of triumph, you originally decide to have your way with the suffering boy underneath. But then another message from your fellow colleague, who is also one of your best friends in the work field, happens to leap onto your screen. most likely complaining about the disparity of distribution of workload, and somehow this gives you another devilish idea to torture the smart-mouthed boy now pitifully leaking and moaning beside you.

  “Want some release, huh naughty boy?” You smirk down at him, as Yangyang fervently yet shakily nods. “If you want to cum, you’d better keep your voice down so you don’t embarrass yourself, brat.” You hiss before turning to voice call your colleague via the messaging app, making Yangyang’s body jump with warning.

  Streams of complaints soon begin to flow from the other side of your phone as you pretend to be fully attentive, yet your hand is drawing circles on the tip of Yangyang’s dripping length viciously slow, as the boy can do nothing but furrow his brows, indulging in the feeling but also refraining hard to not make any form of noise.

  Just when you and your colleague are too centered on picking out the wrongdoings of your supervisor, you can tell from the expressions of your boy that he’s close to his release, so you suddenly slip your hand away from Yangyang’s throbbing cock, making the boy whimper out loud of loss in response. Mortified by the sound he makes, he intends to back away, yet you just scoot even closer to him, simpering at his mishap.

  And of course, that sound didn’t go unnoticed by your friend, as she inquires about the whatabouts of it, while you just leisurely replies it’s just a loud grunt someone makes whist chit-chattering outside your window as if your other hand isn’t stained with your boyfriend’s pre-cum right now.

  The adding humiliation is making Yangyang blushing, sweating and radiating with heat of arousal, yet his inability to speak, move or even whine out is a plus-one to the exhilaration of the whole thing. Just when he thinks he’s going to combust due to the opprobrium, thankfully your friend decides to hang up and leave the playtime for the two of you.

  “Isn’t that fun?” You knowingly grin as you’re pumping his length teasingly slow. "You finally get to pay for trying to fluster me in public so many times?" You mockingly inquire as you lean closer to him. “Say, do you truly want to cum?” 

  The boy pitifully nods again but is soon held back by you grasping on his shoulder and a motion of shush. “Okay okay I get it, but you would’ve looked much more beautiful cumming whilst getting fucked like an animal and punished like a bad little boy…now bend over” You devilishly grin as you reach for the paddle and take out the plug, making the boy whine out at the sense of loss, as you press down on his back, rendering him into an ass-up position.

  “Since you can’t count with your snout secured like that…how about you count out every spank with the movements of your butt? Hmm? Isn’t that a unique kind of punishment, you bratty little lamb?” You sneer as you’re tapping the paddle on his ass, hand still pressing hard down on his back. “Looks like I am able to conjure up with other forms of punishment aside from spanking judging from what you just endured huh? Now count until 40.”

  You then land a loud snap on his rear, as Yangyang, now desperate to end the ordeal, can do nothing but swivel his ass in a vertical movement, as if writing the number 1. “What a good little lamb...” You compliment as you land another smack on him, as your boyfriend soon writes the number 2 with his rear in response, while your hand comes down to soothe his rear that starts to reddishly glow, and plays with his cock from time to time.

  Spank after spank is Yangyang getting tearier and more humiliated, the sense of sting and restraints overwhelming him as you can’t help but kiss away the trickles of salty liquid. Finally reaching the fortieth spank, without much protest from your boyfriend, surprisingly, you decide to give him some physical pleasure he deserves.

  “Finally remorseful for talking back and being a nuisance, huh?” You inquire coquettishly while combing your fingers through his hair to comfort him down, at least a little. “Now, shall I fuck and pleasure your every possible orifice like an insatiable little lamb you are now hmm?”

  You quickly equip yourself with your squirting strap-on before releasing the muzzle off Yangyang’s face, just to immediately slam the dildo into his mouth. “Slick my cock that I am going to fuck you with with that filthy mouth of yours.” You gleefully command. “I’m gonna cleanse that brattiness out of my precious little lamb until he’s sorry and there’s no trace of it…” You smirk in delight as you resume fucking his face.

  Tears threaten to stream down Yangyang’s face again as you are roughing his mouth up while grabbing his head close to you, whilst attentively looking for any signs of distress or the safety gesture Yangyang would use if it’s going too much. After making sure there’s no warning signs from the boy, you decide to press onto the balls on the dildo to release some of the fake cum you had loaded in it beforehand, making the boy messily cough out in response as his mouth is filled with the lewd edible white liquid.

  “Such a filthy yet beautiful sight to see…” You praise the boy as you give him gentle headpats as he’s recovering from the choke. “Now, should I get to fuck the horny ass of my cute little lamb, hmm?”

  Not waiting for your boy to respond, you immediately grab your dark red lipstick with you, putting a generous shade of it on, holding it for later purposes as you begin thrusting into him after some necessary lubing again. Soon slick skin slapping sounds and Yangyang’s moans echo in the room, as you start bending down and kissing him on his sweetest sensitive spots, leaving red marks behind, as if claiming your precious boy yours.

  “Look at you, moaning and melting beneath my thrusts like this, you are truly a slutty little lamb aren’t you?”

  “No-ahh!” Yangyang’s retort is cut short by a harsh slap on his ass again.

  “No? Then I’m afraid this hard thing wouldn’t be granted any release too soon…” You mock disappointment in your voice.

  “Hannhh no… please I’m your little slut okay...your...hahhh,,,your little slutty lamb...mmmphh…” 

  “That’s my precious little lamb…” You compliment again as you toy with the hem of the mesh a couple of times, just to pool it at his shoulders to reveal his bare torso, and then you uncap your dark red lipstick, writing “Mistress’ Slutty Little Lamb” on his body, before leaning down to plant a kiss on his shoulder again and stroking his cock, while resuming pounding into him hard.

  You notice Yangyang is nearing his climax when his breathing accelerates into a ragged pattern. “Beg, my pretty little lamb, beg. Why is my smart-mouthed brat lost of words now?” 

  “Please, Mistress, make me cum...pleeaasseee…”

  “Good boy…” You coo as you fervently give him a few generous pumps, allowing hot spurts of white shoots ejaculating out of his cock. But while Yangyang thinks he’s escaped the ordeal, he doesn’t realize what you still have in store of him until he finds that your hand is still vehemently pumping his cock.

  Pain soon invades his body as his attempts to struggle away from your firm grip are proved futile. “I thought you said you want me to make you cum, isn’t it, my cute little lamb?” You chortle out ruthlessly.

  “Nonononono not like this…” Yangyang stammers out.

  “So you promise you would never talk back to me anymore?”

  “Y-yes for God’s sake!”   “You promise you would never ever try to make lame sexual jokes and attempt to fluster me in public?”

  “Yes p-please stop…” Yangyang practically wails out as he feels his next orgasm mixed with pain is nearing him.

  “You sure you would be my good little slutty pet lamb and only for me to use and play with?”

  “Y-yesss anything! P-pleeasseee!” Yangyang sobs as his whole body quivers at the overwhelming pleasure and affliction, as you finally grant him the second release that shudders through his whole body.

  “Finally, our sharp-tongued brat has learned his lesson, hasn’t he? Hmm? My sweetie boy…” You coo as you give gentle rubs on his head as Yangyang gradually comes down from his high, his breathing dropping back to normal again.

  “Why is my Mistress this cruel…” Yangyang meekly sobs while he leans into your chest, basking into the warmth of it.

  “Yet you love it,” You retort. “and plus you’re being the defiant one first here I’m-”

  “Shhh we’ve already spent most of our time having heated arguments, why should we ruin this perfect afterglow moment with those stupid fights?” Yangyang grins while still nuzzling your chest, making you feel absolutely fulfilled. “Save the bickering for later lol.”

  “Instant recovery, huh?” You can’t help but remark as you savor the moments of bliss where Yangyang is finally being a meek obedient boy nestled on your chest. As you are undoing his restraints, Yangyang asks, “What did you write on my back?”

  “Of course, your first SSID I made you change.” 

  “Ugghh you bossy...nevermind save that for later.” Yangyang bites back his riposte as he cuddles up close to you on the bed.

  You smile while embracing your now cutesy little lamb, glad that there’s finally a moment of peace and truce between you two. 

╚══════════════╝ 

Tagging: @wildernessuntothemselves​ because she’s Yangyang biased lmao

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Beaten Part 2:

Part 1 here

Here is the continuation for "Beaten". @val-reblogs-stuff

Note. I do not know much about trauma (actually, that may be an understatemen). All the trauma that Villain is going through came from my basic idea of it and the fact that it can effect everyone differently. So, I apologize for any inaccuracies.

Warnings: hospital setting, IVs, self-blame/hate, drugged whumpee, trauma, crying, believing one is better off dead, flashback mentions, catatonic whumpee, ECT therapy mention, paralyzed whumpee

~

Hero visited Villain everyday and everyday, he was the same until she found him conscious and staring at the ceiling with no emotion in his golden-brown eyes.

"Villain?" Her tired voice came out like a mouse's squeak. She rushed over to his side only to find his eyes completely glazed over.

Her fingers brushed his dark eyebrows, silently playing with the coarse hair. He was awake- that thought gladdened her- but he also seemed to not be. Almost like his mind was in a different universe, yet his body was still on earth.

But he was awake, and that was one step in the righr direction towards recovery.

Mental recovery.

But never a physical recovery. That shot was long since gone when that sledgehammer...

Hero's purposely allowed those thoughts to drift away. What was done was done, and Hero had to remember that.

The doctor entered the room, his full faced white beard messy and slightly stained. Hero felt bad. He was so busy and she just added to the workload.

"Have the heroes found the person who did this?" Doctor asked as he prepared an IV to deliver the vital nutrients to Villain bloodstream.

"No," Hero replied fluently. After days of people asking how "her villain" was and who injured him so severely that the doctors had to put him in a coma, she was quite accustomed to lying.

"Hmm. I hope you guys take him down because," Doctor waved their hand over Villain's face. "he is not doing well whatsoever."

"I can see that," Hero agreed.

"His mind must've went on lock down when he came out of sedation. Either that, or the drug effected him."

"Which one is better?"

"Depends."

"Oh," was all Hero was able to say as it clicked in. His mind went into this state as a result of the trauma she caused.

"Is he even awake?" Hero wondered outloud.

The doctor looked over at the moniters, his eyes flickering back and forth as he calculated and read the lines and numbers that Hero could not even begin to understand.

"Yeah, he is," Doctor answered. "It'll just take some time. Talk to him, it may draw him out of it."

"Okay."

The doctor left and Hero drew up a chair and seated herself in it.

"Hey bud."

No response.

"I'm sorry," Hero's voice hitched as a lump formed in her throat. Before she knew it, tears began to streamed down her cheeks like a watefall.

But, once again, there was no response. Only blank eyes that gazed at the ceiling with absolutely no emotion.

"It's my fault," Hero sobbed. "It is my fault that you won't walk again. It is my fault that-that." Hero broke into sobs and he grappled at Villain's limp hand. "Wake up please, please."

Hero cried and cried and cried until she exhausted herself. She started breathing in hiccuping breaths as her cheeks laid against Villain's rising and falling robotic-like breaths of air.

Her left arm went over Villain's chest and she hugged him, even though she likely was messing up moniters, right? Who cares if she budged a heart pad. His heart would be beating the same with or without the constant reminder that he was alive physically, but dead mentally.

Hero soon found herself dozing off as the minutes ticked by. Every once in a while, she would jerk awake if she felt him shift. But, she must've imagined it because he still held that vacant expression. However, now his eyes were half-lidded and looked as if he was sleeping.

So did that mean that he was awake earlier?

Or was his body getting tired of keeping his eyes open?

Hero, in a wave of pessimism, grudgingly thought it as the second possibility.

She drifted off to sleep again, not even bothering to check the time. She slept on till morning when a warm hand roused her from her slumber.

"Villain!" She called rather excitedly, but saw that it was only a nurse.

"I don't know why the doctor allowed you to stay the night, given you aren't family, but you need to leave now. We are going to run some tests to see where Villain is mentally and physically."

"We already know his physical health," Hero muttered. "And we have a pretty good grasp on what is going on in his brain."

The nurse gave a sympathetic smile, her tanned face a mixture of worry and nervousness- if you could count those as two seperate expressions.

"We can find out more and possibly help him," the nurse pointed out and led Hero out of the room. "Go. Get some food and water and get some real sleep."

Hero nodded solemnly and proceeded to find some food in a vending machine. Upon only finded some poorly stocked snicker bars, she made her way to the cafeteria and gave herself a plate full of lukewarm mashed potatoes and some soggy beef stew.

She ate the food by herself on a table and watched as recovering families gathered together on various tables. They seemed so happy amidst the obvious struggles each family was facing.

Shouldn't Hero be happy? Shouldn't she be glad that Villain was alive?

Or, maybe her mind subconsciously believed that he was better off dead. After all, he wouldn't be able to walk again, would definitely have chronic pain, and he could possibly always be living in a world of paranoia, stress, and flashbacks.

How could he be happy when he was constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure Hero wasn't there to finish the job?

Hero quickly stuffed the rest of the bland food into her mouth, set her tray on a counter to be washed, and headed back to Villain's room.

Villain was still there, lying on his back, oblivious to the world around him. The doctor was there too, seemingly checking Villain's vitals.

"How did the tests go?"

"Well, we now know for certain that he is awake, but we believe he is catatonic."

Catatonic.

"How are you gonna fix him?" Hero asked and walked to Villain's other side.

"We are going to begin ECT," the doctor confirmed. "Later today. We need to make sure all previous drugs are out of his system first."

Hero nodded and ran her hand through Villain's fluffy hair tenderly and used her other hand to massage his shoulder. He did not respond, but his eyes flickered for a moment before resuming their role in monitoring the ceiling.

"Did you see that?" Hero exclaimed.

"See what?"

"He moved his eyes," Hero blabbered enthusiastically and massaged his shoulder even harder, but when no more movement occurred she stopped.

"Many patients suffering from catatonia move their eyes."

"So he knew I was touching him?"

"He is fully aware. He entered this stupor due to the physical stress, exhaustion, possible traumatic stress, and maybe even some of the medications used on him."

Hero nodded. She didn't fully understand, but she knew that he felt her.

So all they had to do was bring him back.

And then he could get better.

Or as well as a paralyzed person could.

~not edited