whumpbump
Whumpbump’s Writing Corner
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Theres A Drama On Somewhere
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The hero couldn’t believe their own exhaustion. Apparently, their limbs didn’t want to work and neither did their brain. Even though they had sort of expected this, there was enough energy left to recognise and frown at their nemesis.
“You’re here to kidnap me?” the hero asked. They looked down at the saved city, at the aftermath of the chaos.
Some streets and buildings were scathed but all together, the hero would’ve called this a good job with little casualties. They leaned back and let out a long overdue breath.
“Presumably.” The hero turned their head to glance at their nemesis. Every muscle hurt. Hell, muscles the hero didn’t even know they had hurt.
“Two months. I thought you were dead,” they said eventually and the words were heavy on their tongue. Sadly, they didn’t even have the energy left to be mad at their nemesis.
“I’m…” The villain stared at the ground. They still looked the same. Still the same scary villain that would break ankles and wrists to get what they want. And the hero supposed they were still the same pathetic hero that followed them around like a dog, trying to convince them to use their powers for the good. Even in death.
“You have to carry me if you want to kidnap me. I can’t really move.”
“Okay.” The villain approached them and picked them up immediately without any struggles. All the hero could do was whimper when the villain touched their sore muscles. The hero felt a little stupid in the villain’s arms but they didn’t really have a choice either when the villain walked towards their car.
“Where were you?” the hero asked quietly. Some questions they only dared to whisper.
“I was injured,” the villain explained.
“What? Why didn’t you tell me? What happened!?” Suddenly they panicked. The villain had been injured? Had licked their wounds in their lair alone? The hero wanted to be mad but above all, they were concerned.
“Yeah, I needed a new kidney and everything.”
“What?!” The hero’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
“So you disappeared for two months instead?” the hero asked. By now, their voice was hoarse and their head unforgivingly heavy.
“…yeah.”
“Listen, I could’ve donated, I could’ve—”
“Do you think it’s smart for the two most powerful beings in the city to recover from surgery at the same time?” the villain asked. The hero hated that, they hated when they used logic against them. It didn’t change that they were pissed, in fact, it only added fuel to the fire.
“You could have at least told me.”
“So you’d worry and neglect your duties?” The villain shook their head. “I love this city. I want what’s best for it and while I was gone, you were the only one left who actually cared for it.”
“You’re an asshole, you know that? A fucking asshole,” the hero said. They were overwhelmed and confused, numb and aggressive. They hadn’t seen the villain in two months and now they were back with a stranger’s kidney inside them and their strong arms around the hero.
Had they made a mistake? Felt the hero closer to them than they actually were?
“Why are you hurt?” The hero closed their eyes and let out another long breath.
“I fought some machine. The blades were quick and the bullets even quicker so I had to be faster than that and now I am just…tired.” They leaned their head against the villain’s chest.
“No, I meant my recovery. You’re hurt because I left.”
“I’m mad that you didn’t tell me.”
“You’re disappointed that I didn’t ask you to donate your kidney,” the villain said. The hero swallowed. “Is there something more intimate than keeping your nemesis alive that way? You’re mad you got robbed of that.”
“Ugh you’re so full of shit.” And yet, the hero’s face was burning.
Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe they wanted a connection to the villain that was deeper than “work.”
Whatever.
“I didn’t know you’d be this upset.” Either the hero imagined it or it was true; the villain pulled them closer.
“I am not…I tried reaching out but you were nowhere. Do you know how frustrating that was? As if you got killed and thrown into a ditch. I could barely concentrate on anything.”
“I didn’t know that. Maybe I mean more to you than I thought,” the villain said and the hero couldn’t believe how dense their villain could be. As structured and intelligent as they were, their social skills were an abnormality the hero usually knew how to handle.
But now, in their arms, they were grateful.
“Of course you do, dumbass.” The hero met their eyes and they felt at peace. Completely. Utterly.
How could they waste their life like this? Yearning without making a move? Never daring, always tip-toeing. To the point where they wished they had given them their kidney.
“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” The villain didn’t joke. They didn’t wink. They rarely did any of that.
“Kidnap me faster, will you?”
“If you insist.”
Back at the lair, the villain allowed them to touch the fresh scar and the hero did. Over and over and over again.
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Whumpee wakes up, immediately realizing they can't move. They're gagged and blindfolded, their wrist and feet are tightly bound with duct tape.
Whumpee panics, muffling a series of scared noises. No one tells them to be quoit or to stop, so they keep getting more and more frantic-
Finally, a voice speaks in front of them "Don't make me regret not putting you in the trunk.
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A commonly overlooked symptom of depression is anhedonia, the inability to feel joy or pleasure. The reason that it's easy to overlook is that it's easier to miss the absence of something that's not around all the time than it is to miss a symptom that causes active distress, such as feeling tired and miserable all the time.
Anhedonia is good at being a persistent undercurrent to your life. My aunt, who has major depressive disorder, related to me that she figured out that something was wrong when she looked at the daffodils she had planted blooming, and couldn't recognize the emotion that she felt when she looked at them. It had been long enough since she had felt happy that she lost the ability to recognize the emotion.
It's a particularly dangerous depressive symptom, because it robs you of the ability to feel those little spots of joy that keep a lot of people going, while not doing anything to impair your ability to function. If you don't know that this is a treatable symptom of depression, it's easy to assume that your ability to feel good is permanently broken, and decide to commit suicide because you don't want to live like that. It's not an irrational conclusion, but it is an uninformed one, and everyone deserves to have all the information when making a major decision.
This is what a lot of questionnaires are trying to look for when they ask about "loss of enjoyment". If you can't remember a loss of enjoyment because you can't remember enjoyment, then you probably have anhedonia. If you struggle to define how it is to feel "happy", "content", or "good", or how it feels when you feel those emotions, you probably have anhedonia. If you can't remember feeling any of those emotions for a week or more, you probably have anhedonia.
Symptoms commonly co-occurring with anhedonia are fatigue (often the cause), clear and thoughtful consideration of suicide, loss of desire to socialize or do activities that used to make you happy, and weight loss (due to lack of enjoyment of food).
This section is anecdotal. In what I have observed, anhedonia due to fatigue rarely responds well to depression treatment unless depression was causing the fatigue. If fatigue and anhedonia are co-occurring and are not both alleviated by depression treatment, consider other causes for the fatigue.
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Mori’s playing with sharp objects ✂️💉(full ver on Patreon)
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When kids are trying to explain a problem they are having to you, you need to ask questions. Kids often don't have the words that they need to explain what is going on. So, they substitute in words that they do know that are as close as possible. If you take what they say at face value, you can sometimes entirely miss the actual problem.
A recent example is a kid, ten years old, I know who kept saying that their problem is that they "get bored" when reading. I've been helping by recommending books and other material relevant to their interests to their parents, but it didn't seem to work. So, I came over, sat down with the kid, and asked them to read as much of a short story as they could before they got bored.
They could read about sixty or so words before they were unable to focus on the text any longer.
According to them, this has been a problem since they were seven. But because "boredom" was the only word they had for it, they received attempts to get them more engaging texts. That's a great strategy for most book-shy kids, but not when it's looking far more like an undiagnosed disability. This kid has amazingly supportive parents who are now looking to get them more expertly evaluated, but because they didn't have the language to explain how bad the problem was, it flew under the radar for three years.
Ask kids clarifying questions when they're having trouble, especially when the problem you think they are telling you about isn't being solved by solutions that would normally work. You might figure out why those solutions aren't working.
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Blue
TW : noncon touch
"Mmm…"
Whumpee blinked their eyes a few times. Their head was pounding hard and the only thing that they could see was the television screen. They were laying on their stomach on the bed, along with Whumper who was hugging them tightly from behind.
It was suffocating.
Whumper pushed a strand of hair behind Whumpee's ear as they watched the television together. Whumpee couldn't hear a thing though, they could only focus on their breathing.
In…and out…
In…and out…
In…and—
Whumpee gasped softly as Whumper tightened their grasp on them. Their legs were chained together under the blanket. The room was dark, Whumpee could only rely on the light from the television screen to see anything in the room. It was one drowsy night for them.
They got drugged by Whumper and couldn't do anything other than let out a few incoherent mumbles. Their body was too weak to resist any touch coming from their captor. Even when their hair was being tugged slightly for Whumper to braid.
Whumper looked at their half-lidded gaze and chuckled. They love seeing Whumpee in this state. They looked so cute and vulnerable. Whumper couldn't get enough of Whumpee's soft skin and beautiful hair.
Whumpee yawned tiredly. They wanted to sleep, even just for a moment. They could feel their brain melting under the influence of the drug. But Whumper just wouldn't let them rest, right?
"Aww…sweetie, are you tired?"
Whumper asked in a condescending tone. They continued stroking Whumpee's hair, a devilish smile forming on their lips. They turned off the televisyen, making the room turn pitch dark now.
Whumpee swallowed hard at the sudden lack of sounds and light. They could only hear the rustling sound coming from Whumper as they adjusted themself to get closer to Whumpee.
I hate this, Whumpee thought. Get away from me.
They wished they could talk and scream and yell at Whumper for treating them like a rag doll. But the only thing that they could do was watch that monster do whatever they wanted to do to them.
Whumper started unbuttoning Whumpee's shirt. The action alone made Whumpee murmured in desperate pleas. They struggled and squirmed under them.
"Shh…don't worry. I know you were bored watching the television."
Whumper said as they leaned closer to Whumpee's ear. "That's why I think we should have a little fun tonight."
Whumpee's eyes widened in fear. They struggled even more. "N…no…please…"
"It's okay, Whumpee. I'll make you feel good."
Whumper said as they ripped off Whumpee's shirt, leaving the poor creature started crying and whimpering. Whumper smirked at the sight.
"You can't run away from me now."
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Blowing your nose and pulling the tissue away to see blood is like the less fun and dramatic version of coughing into a hankie and seeing blood 😮💨
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Whumpees that just don't know how to be taken care of. It's such a hard concept for them to grasp that someone would want to help - or even be around them like this. So they fetch their own blankets, clean up any messes, prepare their own hot/cold compress, etc. Anything not to be a burden or to seem so weak. Though Whumpee's condition gets worse; they can't treat this on their own. Caretaker is stunned by their state when they walk in. Under their breath, Whumpee is muttering about something they need to do... turning to apologies when they recognize Caretaker
Yesss indeed
When they think they're so competent - and actually may be - but then it gets beyond even their control and they Need Someone. And are so embarrassed at being seen in their state that they care more about that than they do actually letting someone help them get better????? mgmmmnngmg the poor whumpees I just love it
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Love it when characters have been through some torment or captivity or illness or Big Bad Event and come away from it just...gaunt. Thin and hollowed out, circles under their eyes that refuse to fade no matter how much they rest. So pale and skinny they look like a breeze could blow them over. Thin hair, shaky limbs. Eyes squinting outside, unused to bright light. You know, all that.
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As with the horse poll, please regard these options as sliders. The extent to which each one deviates from 1/6th of the total will determine the amount that canine aspect deviates from the "average."
I will draw the dog we make. :)
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“you’re safe now.”
“you can rest now.”
“you’ve fought so hard.”
“you don’t have to fight anymore.”
“just sleep, okay?”
“i won’t let anything hurt you.”
“it’s over. it’s all over.”
“you don’t have to worry about anything right now.”
“shh, shh, i’ve got you. you’re safe here.”
“i know it was scary.”
“i know it hurts.”
“you’re all done hurting. there’s no more pain.”
“just focus on resting, okay?”
“you need to save your strength.”
“your job right now is to heal.”
“i’m getting you out of here.”
“i’m taking you home. we’re going home.”
“you’re safe in my arms. the hard part is over.”
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