#ooooo opinions

[rt-closetcryptic]

Got asked to do the rest of the smiling critters on my Twitter! Unsure if I’ll keep these designs.

#poppy playtime #craftycorn #bobby bearhug #bubba bubbaphant #picky piggy #hoppy hopscotch #smiling critters #ooooo bigger bodies be upon ye! #but also poor bubba #I did him so dirty #he’s the most fucked up in my opinion #pov you almost die getting burned alive #anyways #rtcc draws

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Assigning each Doctor a flower

Based purely on my opinion and vibes. I know nothing about flower language, etc, so behold the nonsensical fuckery that is about to commence (though for some it should be obvious why I chose that particular flower).

1st Doctor - Black Eyed Susan

2nd Doctor - Aster

3rd Doctor - Daffodil

4th Doctor - Kangaroo Paw

5th Doctor - Cherry Blossoms

6th Doctor - This Thing

7th Doctor - Foxglove

8th Doctor - Hollyhock

War Doctor - Pitcher Plant

9th Doctor - Rose

To be continued because I can't add more pictures....

#doctor who #classic who #new who #first doctor #second doctor #third doctor #fourth doctor #fifth doctor #sixth doctor #seventh doctor #eighth doctor #war doctor #ninth doctor #flowers #dw #the doctor #based on my opinion #and the vibes #so basically: done by an idiot #who is like ooooo pretty flowerrrr

[jaeyleo]

LOCKS OR KEYS: PART 9

YOU CHOSE: KEYS: TAKE THE CAR AND ESCAPE

Your choices leave your character lost. He has no choice but to succumb to the will of his captor.

CWS: non human whumper, whumper is also caretaker, captive whumpee, failed escape attempt, sick whumpee, brainwashing, torture, dehumanization, delirious whumpee, suicidal ideation, force feeding alcohol, hallucinations and delusions of bugs crawling on and into whumpee’s body, hypnosis. let me know if i should add more!

Masterlist.

Tag list (lmk if you’d like to be added or removed, my apologies for forgetting about it the last handful of parts): @skid-row-seymour @welcome-to-the-whumpfest @the9645archives

sorry this one is kinda long, but i felt like y’all deserved a bigger part for waiting so long to hear from this series :cryface:

. . .

The keys hang on the wall, the car sits outside. It’s time to go.

In one swift motion, Chase sheds the blanket off his shoulders and snatches up the keys. He strides outside the house, making easy and confident steps down the porch. Getting in the car is easy, starting it is easy, driving is easy. For once, he isn’t afraid.

The puppet opens his eyes. Now that he’s pictured his half assed plan, he can begin the attempt.

He sheds the blanket onto the couch, feeling a rush of cold air hit his skin. For a second he pulls it back, but ultimately elects to fold it and leave it on the couch. Maybe Pseudo won’t be as angry with him if he doesn’t leave a mess. Maybe he’s just stalling.

Once finished, he begins his steps towards the keys. They’re clumsy and painful, causing him to fall into the arm of the couch before he even leaves the living room. He manages to get to the keys, and with a trembling hand, he plucks them from the wall.

He feels nauseous.

Is he really doing this?

He could turn back at any moment, and Pseudo would never know. He wouldn’t question it, because Chase would still be in bed when he got home, and the keys would still be on the wall. He could turn back. He could be safe.

But instead he opens the door, against everything inside him. He can hear his inner “Pink voice” crying inside his head, “bad idea, bad idea, bad bad bad idea!”

But he is ignored, and Chase finds himself in the driver’s seat of the car.

It takes him a few minutes to muster the courage to start it, and then a few more just to remember how. His whole body shakes in cold and fear, and he feels like he could vomit at any given second. His nervousness cracks him down to his core, splitting through every cell and piece of tissue there is to have inside a human. Once the car rumbles to life, he adjusts the mirror, and sees Pseudo in the back seat.

“Fuck!!”

Chase whips around to look at him, but finds the car empty.

The relief, the fear, the sickness, the fighting Pink and Chase, God, he can’t take it. He can’t tell if what he saw was real or fake, if he’s just hallucinating or if Pseudo’s onto him and is just toying with him. But he’s come this far, and what he can’t take even more than the situation he’s in now, is staying another day here in Denmark. He wants to go home.

Chase puts the car in drive, and starts his terrifying journey.

. . .

If starting the car was difficult, driving should be its own category of horrendous.

He’s completely forgotten how. For the first ten or so minutes he either goes too fast or too slow. He almost drives off the side of the road into the wooded areas, (which he absolutely scratches the car), and at one point, he nearly crashes when trying to turn too fast on a curve. As time passes, the sun falls farther and farther beneath the trees, to which Chase panics when trying to find the switch for the headlights. He considers pulling over for a while just to cry about it all, but he gets the hang of most of it. He gets the hang of most of it, and he drives just fine for a while, despite having no idea where he’s going.

As Chase drives and drives, he starts seeing a house in the distance. Pseudo’s house.

Did he drive in a circle?

The roads don’t curve like that, do they?

Chase speeds up, terrified to be met with this fate so soon. He hopes he’s hallucinating again.

The same woods and lake and curves meet him again. He tries harder this time around to make sure he’s careful, taking different turns as not to end up in the same place. This cant be for nothing.

The same stretch of time seems to pass for Chase, though he can’t say for sure as Pseudo’s clock is stuck at 10:05. It all feels like the same terrifying drag to him either way.

Eventually, even with his precautions, he’s met with the house again.

He speeds up once more, gripping the steering wheel as tight as he can. He tries the same plan again, taking different roads or even going straight through the woods wherever the car can fit. At this point, he’d try anything to go home.

But once again, the house appears in his view.

Tears blur his vision as he tries again. He pleads to get free, more afraid of the punishment than anything at this point. If Pseudo isn’t on to his escape, then his lack of driving skills are going to be his downfall.

Again, the house appears, and again, he tries to drive.

He cries as he keeps the car going. It’s hard to see as it is, but he might need to pull over if his emotions keep getting the best of him like this.

The next time he gets back to he house, he sees Pseudo standing there, watching him. His hands are in his pockets and he doesn’t look upset, although Chase knows better than to assume. He knows he’s been caught, and that driving would be useless now. But he cant stop, this cant be for nothing.

He drives around again, and Pseudo stays put. Their dance continues, Chase driving, Pseudo waiting, until enough turns have happened that the puppet accepts his defeat. On the last drive, the car comes to a stop, but his tears don’t.

Pseudo approaches, opening the door and tilting his head at the doll. Chase has yet to stop crying.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” says Pseudo.

The puppet covers his face, smashing tears into his fingertips. He feels like Pink. Or maybe wants to be Pink. Pseudo is nicer to Pink.

“You know what happens now, don’t you, dolly?”

Chase feels sicker and sicker. He covers his mouth just in case.

“I asked you a question, Chase.”

The name names his skin crawl. Pseudo doesn’t call him that anymore, not unless he’s in serious trouble.

“Yes,” Chase whimpers. He wipes the tears from his eyes and looks up at his captor, hoping to reason with him. “Yes, I’m sorry. I don’t- I don’t know what I was thinking, I was just scared and-“

Pseudo puts a finger to his lips. “Hush. You know where you’re supposed to go. I’ll be in there later.”

“But-“

Pseudo smacks Chase on the mouth, and the puppet shuts up. He leans in close to his doll, making sure their eyes meet and the attention is captured.

“Hush.”

He then unbuckles the seatbelt that ties Chase down, and takes the keys from the ignition.

“Put these back on your way in.”

The monster drops the keys in his puppet’s hand, and leaves him to follow his commands. But Chase is paralyzed.

He stares down at the keys in his hand, shaking like a leaf about to fall from a tree. He pictures the cellar, he pictures the garden, he pictures the car, the vague idea of children he forgets the names of. He pictures the stupidity of his decision, and how much easier his life would be had he just stayed in bed to sleep like he was told.

But there’s no point in picturing.

Chase stands up and shuts the door. With each step he takes he feels knives digging into his feet, roots trying to plant themselves in the ground to make him stay away from his punishment. He starts losing his breath from the panic, and while his hands go numb, he simultaneously crumbles to the ground. The keys find a home in the grass, and Chase’s mouth begins to salivate from the need to vomit.

He covers his mouth, trying to take deep breaths and prevent a mess. He can’t stop shaking, can’t stop crying, can’t stop thinking about what’s going to happen to him.

It takes him a few minutes to gather his strength again. Soon enough, he’s entering the house to place the keys back where he found them, and heading out the back door.

He wipes the tears from his eyes and looks at the cellar. Why, why, why did he have to be so stupid? Why can’t he just listen?

With trembling hands and closed eyes, he opens the doors for his consequences.

. . .

Pseudo takes a long time to come downstairs.

Chase isn’t sure if he’s just letting the tension build, or if his punishment is being locked in here for an unknown amount of time. God knows he’s spent long enough down here, weeks at a time, and every memory makes him more and more afraid of what’s to come. He tries not to focus on that part. Instead, he drags his hands against the wall for balance while he paces.

And paces, and paces, and paces

and paces and paces

and paces.

He paces until his feet ache from the weight of his bones. Until he has to cover his face and kneel on the ground, considering ending his life before Pseudo can come down to start the pain. But that thought leaves his mind as light drips heavy down the steps, and Chase becomes a lightening bolt to sit in the chair he’s supposed to.

His eyes lock on the drain below him. There are still stains on the concrete from his own blood, but more recently, from the man who was planted in the garden. Chase shivers as he pushes the thought from his mind.

Pseudo comes down the stairs with his eyes trained on the chair, pleased to see the seat taken. His stride is easy and comfortable, but there’s some kind of itch in his fingers that twitches as he gathers tools onto his little cart. He takes his time to think about his supplies, and what is or isn’t chosen. Chase steals a glance, but turns away when he sees a stun gun thud onto the surface.

“I don’t know why you do this to yourself,” says Pseudo, still focused on his task. “It’s like you enjoy being punished, I don’t know. Or maybe you’re just dumber than I thought.”

He places a few other tools on the cart, but Chase keeps himself blind to what’s there. Once finished, he rolls the cart closer to his prey, and stands in front of him to speak.

“Which one is it, Chase?”

The puppet frowns, shaking his head. “I-“

A hard smack to the face cuts him off. Chase goes reeling to the side of the chair, but is yanked back by his hair. The man cries out in pain, leaning as far into Pseudo’s grip as he can to avoid extra pain.

“If you speak again without permission, I’ll sew your mouth shut. Am I understood?”

Chase nods.

Satisfied, the monster lets go, and the puppet’s hands come up to soothe the pain in his cheek and scalp. The relief is short lived, however, as Pseudo grabs his wrists to strap them to the arms of the chair with thin metal wire. It digs trenches into his skin, so he tries not to squirm.

His ankles are met with the same restraints, and he clamps his jaw down as hard as he can to avoid pleading. His eyes unconsciously drift to the tool cart and he catches the sight of a Sjambok, which he can already feel the sting of. He closes his eyes and keeps his head down, but Pseudo doesn’t like that.

“Look up. Look at the cart.”

The puppet chews on his tongue and obeys. His eyes scan over what he sees, and the pit in his stomach doesn’t stop growing.

The Sjambok. The stun gun. Gardening scissors. Barded wire. Needle and thread. A small jar of table salt. Shards from the plate he broke. Whiskey. A nail-gun.

Chase’s breath picks up as he scans the cart. Tears sting his eyes, and he chews and chews into his tongue. His head swims with the anticipation and anxiety of it all, heart thumping like a bird’s inside his chest. Once he’s gathered the sight of what will be used, he turns back to his captor to see him staring like a stalking, hungry dog.

“What do you think, trouble- maker? Was it worth it?”

The man shakes his head. He feels pathetic and afraid. He only wishes he could go back in time to stop himself from being so stupid.

Pseudo nods in response.

“Good. I’ll tell you what though, doll. Once I use a tool, I’ll put it away. But everything will be used. Got it?”

Chase’s eyes glance to the stun gun. He nods his head, feeling sick all over again.

“Good. How about you pick first then? Since you like making stupid decisions so much.”

He rolls the cart closer to Chase so he can get a better view of it, and perhaps to point with his eyes what he wants. But Chase shakes his head, a hum of fear crawling up his throat against his will.

“Hey, come now. You want to make choices, so make one. Pick something.”

The man brings his head back up to meet Pseudo’s gaze. He pleads with his eyes, with his frown. He doesn’t want to. Don’t make me, please?

Pseudo tilts his head, waiting.

“Pick.”

Chase blinks tears from his eyes and turns back to his options. He points with his eyes, and says what he wants in his head, just in case Pseudo is listening.

Whiskey.

Pseudo points at the stun gun. “This?”

Chase shakes his head. No, no, whiskey. He moves forward slightly to stare harder at the bottle.

“This?”

The gardening scissors.

Chase shakes his head again, pleading, pleading, chewing on his tongue. Whiskey!

Pseudo lands on the whiskey, and Chase nods and relishes in his relief.

“Alright...”

Pseudo opens the bottle, and presents it to Chase’s mouth. “Drink.”

The puppet obeys, drinking swig after swig after swig, until its spilling over his mouth and down his chin. He starts coughing and spitting it up, but Pseudo keeps it trained on his lips. He begins to feel like he’s drowning in the alcohol before it’s pulled away, and Chase’s throat is left to burn like a hungry fire while he coughs out the poison.

“Catch your breath… it wasn’t that bad.”

It takes him a few minutes of back patting and condescending encouragements to finally settle down. He tries breathing through his mouth to calm the burning in his throat, but Pseudo takes it as an excuse to pour more poison into his body.

The same motions repeat, and the bottle is halfway gone by the time Pseudo pulls it away again. But the cap goes back on, and just as Pseudo promised, its put on the bottom shelf of the cart.

“That was an easy one… so I think I’ll pick next.”

He picks up the nail- gun, and places it to Chase’s shin.

The puppet sits up, and the wire that holds him down digs into his skin. With eyes wide and breath fast, he shakes his head, clamping down his jaw to keep himself from speaking up. His tongue endures more abuse from his teeth.

“Which leg pressed the gas?”

Chase shakes his head again, tears falling down his face as the fear takes over him. Please, please, no. He shrivels into himself like a raisin, and the wire once again digs deeper and deeper into his flesh.

“Which leg, dolly? Point with your eyes.”

The doll sobs a little harder, shaking his head.

“No? Maybe I’ll just hit both, then…”

His eyes shoot open to stare at his right leg, tears blurring his vision. At this Pseudo chuckles, tilting his head and keeping his eyes on the doll’s face.

“I’m just messing with you,” he smiles. “But it would’ve been very interesting had you pointed at your left.”

As soon as he finishes speaking, a nail goes shooting through Chase’s tibia. It digs down as deep as it can get, cracking the bone with the force.

He screams as loud as he can muster. His already burned throat doesn’t do well with the strain, but its even worse when another nail goes shooting through just below the first one. He can’t stop himself from crying about it.

The nail- gun drops into the bottom shelf, and Pseudo calls his puppet back to focus. He coos at him, tapping his face, until Chase gets the hint.

“It’s your turn, puppet.”

The doll looks at his leg. His pants are soaked with blood and alcohol, but he cant see the nails from this angle. Perhaps thats a good thing.

He turns back to the cart, and makes his choice.

Salt.

Pseudo points at the Sjambok. Chase shakes his head.

Pseudo points at the gardening scissors. Chase shakes his head, leaning closer to the salt.

He points at the stun gun. Chase loses his breath, and leans even closer.

Salt!

“Mh, I’m just not sure what you’re saying. I suppose I’ll pick..”

Pseudo picks up the glass shards, and starts shoving them one by one into Chase’s thigh. He uses the last one to give his doll’s cheek a little cut, and tosses it into the cart. The remaining shards stay planted in flesh like sprouting seeds. It hurts, but it feels like a break compared to what he just felt.

Next, Pseudo picks up the Sjambok, and stands up.

“Lean forward.”

Chase groans, shivering. He feels dizzier and dizzier, and the world feels harder to navigate. Is he getting drunk already?

“Don’t make me ask again, dolly. You don’t want this to hit your face, do you?”

The doll succumbs and does as he’s told. Once he’s in position, Pseudo waits to watch his puppet just breathe. His chest rises and falls fervently in his lap, just barely grazing the glass. After enough tension builds to make Chase whimper, he strikes his back hard.

A large slice of blood erupts from the source, and the doll screams into his knees. Another three strikes are given, and the Sjambok is tossed to the floor.

Chase sobs like a child. He can’t get enough air in his lungs, and the tears seem to be never ending. Everything already aches, and there’s still so much to do. He feels dizzy and faint, unsure if its the blood loss or the alcohol, or both. But before he can get his bearings again, the wounds on his back sting bad enough for him to wail all over again.

Salt, salt, salt, like trails of snow, poured into his open wounds. Pseudo holds the back of his neck to keep him in place.

“Stop!” Chase weeps, squirming and crying like it’ll do something useful. “Please, please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry!! Please stop!”

Pseudo clicks his tongue three times, finishing the last row and putting the salt away.

“You just can’t get enough of this, can you, sweetheart?”

Chase sits up once free, writhing in pain. He sways as the alcohol takes over the remaining of his control, and the pain takes its place close behind. He can’t press his back to the chair, but cant lean forward, either. Everything hurts. He’s too dizzy, he feels drunk already. His wrists ache and look as red as his crying face does.

Pseudo plucks the needle and thread from the cart.

“Quiet, dolly, or this will hurt a lot more than you’d like it to.”

“Nonono, please, please!” he weeps. “I wont do it again, I won’t ever do it again, I’ll do everything you say, I’m s— ah!!”

Pseudo smacks Chase on the mouth hard enough to shove his back into the chair.

“Enough. You’re being awfully stupid..”

The needle comes up from his bottom lip first, snaking its way to the top lip. Row after row, sob after sob, every sound that comes out of Chase’s mouth becomes muffled. Blood drips down his chin to follow the paths that the alcohol took beforehand. The salty tears sting the cut on his cheek, and whatever wound from the stitches that they can get into.

The gardening scissors cut the remaining thread, and both tools are tossed to the bottom of the cart. At least his fingers wont have the same fate as Richie’s.

The next tool that’s chosen is barbed wire. Pseudo uses it to wrap around Chase’s torso and arms, making sure to roll up any clothing so the razors meet his skin instead of fabric. Then, the stun gun finds his hand.

Chase’s head swims. He shakes his head, his cries becoming weaker but more afraid by the second. He’d take anything over the stun gun. Even the nail- gun. The sensory hell that comes from electricity is simply too much for him to take right now.

“Readyyyy?” Pseudo sings. “You’re almost done.”

But Chase isn’t, nor will he ever be, ready for the stun gun. He shakes his head again, a pathetic sob bubbling up from his throat. He sinks deeper into the chair, regretting everything he’s done within the last two days. He wants to wake up in the attic with the sun on his face and be confused about what’s happening again. He wants to be hypnotized and treated like a doll, to be coddled and loved and doted upon for whatever fucked up reason Pseudo has for doing it. He wants to be Pink, he wants to be Pink, he wants to be Pink.

Pseudo aims at Chase’s shoulder, and shoots.

His entire body tenses up from the electricity. What little control he had before has now left him, and he is left to scream and endure for 10 seconds.

15.

20.

Chase opens his eyes to see Pseudo standing over him. He can’t breathe, he cant see, the world swims and twists in his eyes. The room spins and there are fire ants crawling across his entire body, with burrows dug deep into his flesh. He looks down at himself, seeing bugs crawling all across his skin.

“Mmm- mmmm!!!”

Chase writhes and hollers like his life depends on it. There are bugs on his skin!! He can feel them burrowing into his flesh, into his shin, his wrists, his torso, his mouth, his thigh!!!!! They’re everywhere!!!

He screams and screams and screams as they take over his whole body, making a home inside every space they can. Pseudo grabs hold of his doll’s face, forcing his eye contact and attention.

“Settle down,” he commands. “You’re alright. Deep breaths, Pink. Deep breaths.”

He keeps squirming and fighting, keeps sobbing and sinking deeper into the chair as the bugs eat him up like candy. But Pseudo comes soothing, and kind, and Chase feels heavier and heavier until the whole world feels too far away to focus. But Pseudo is there, and Pseudo is helpful. Pseudo gets the bugs away.

“You’re okay, Pink. Listen to me now, deep breaths. You’re all done.”

All done? All done?

Pink shivers. He remembers what he did, how stupid and dangerous that was. He can’t believe he’d do such a thing, especially when an angel like Pseudo is here to take care of him. What’s wrong with him?

Pink whines as he’s set free from his restraints. As all the barbed wire is peeled from his body and the glass shards are plucked out one by one. He sighs, especially thankful, when he’s able to take a breath through his mouth as the thread is cut away. He has no choice but to lean into Pseudo when scooped up into his arms, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He wants to be good now, and he’ll promise that once he’s allowed to speak again.

“You’re alright, Pink. I’ve got you back now, hm? You’re alright.”

Pink whines once more, feeling overwhelmed with the urge to fall asleep.

. . .

Oh, his head hurts.

Where is Pseudo?

Pink opens his eyes to find himself alone in his room. His body feels heavy and beaten, and everything hurts. Upon seeing the sun shine through the window, he is overcome with a wave of nausea so strong that he has to lean over his bed. When he tries to sit up, however, the pain in his back and ribs is enough to make him cry out. The nausea gets worse until he gags, covering his eyes and mouth and pretending Pseudo is there to coach him through it. Once it passes, he opens his eyes, half expecting to see Pseudo already there and waiting.

The puppet groans, observing his empty room. He wants to call out for Pseudo, but closes his mouth upon remembering he’s not supposed to speak. He wishes he could ask for some water, or a hug.

Instead he asks for attention by knocking on the wall. Everything in his body hurts, so standing up to make noise doesn’t feel like a safe option for him. He just hopes that Pseudo notices soon, whether that’s through annoyance or wanting to be by his puppet. He can’t take much longer without seeing his angel.

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, says Pinks room.

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

The knocks are eventually returned at the door, and Pink hears a key turn into the lock. The door opens, and Pink smiles dopey and adoring.

“Ps-“ he starts, before covering his mouth. He wants to say sorry, but then he’d have to say sorry for saying sorry, and then sorry for saying sorry for saying sorry. So he just clamps his jaw shut, and prays that Pseudo forgives him for his near mistake.

“My Pink,” Pseudo croons. The key is concealed inside his pocket, and he makes his way towards his doll. “Do you feel sick this morning?”

Pink nods, sighing and relaxing when Pseudo comes to sit beside him. As if that weren’t enough, Pseudo runs a hand through Pink’s hair, and the doll leans as far into his touch as possible. He wants moments like these to last forever.

“Poor thing… but you’ll be good now, won’t you? No more slip ups like yesterday.”

Pink’s face burns in embarrassment. He can’t believe what he did; the regret consumes him. He shakes his head, holding Pseudo’s hand and kissing his palm to show his devotion.

Pseudo smiles and runs his hand through Pink’s hair, and the puppet basks in the attention. He can’t get enough of it. He isn’t sure why he ever tried to leave in the first place. Stupid, stupid puppet.

“That’s precious.. but, I have to make sure you’re being honest, don’t I?”

Pink nods. That makes sense, and he’ll do anything to prove himself.

“Good. Because if you’re good..”

He runs a hand through Pink’s hair, and a thumb across his cheek bone. The puppet melts.

“Then I’ll bring you back home, and I’ll spoil you rotten.”

Pink smiles. This time, he blushes from contentment. From adoration.

“But if you’re bad, if you show me you want to escape again, I’ll make sure you end up alone. No one will take care of you.”

Pink frowns, afraid. He points at Pseudo, and shakes his head. Not even you?

“You’ll be alone, Pink. Out of your head,” he pets Pink’s hair again, “and all alone. Do you understand?”

Yes. Pink nods.

“Good. Then I should see you soon, dolly. Don’t fret about it when you get there, hm? Nothing to be afraid of if you’re a good puppet.”

Pink wants to ask where he’s going, but is left to wonder until it happens.

#good god #i’ve been writing this for almost 7 hours #i hope u guys enjoyed and again im so sorry its so ooooo long #i jsut wanted to make up for that long long hiatus #like i know thats pretty common for this series and like #other authors in general #but i want to start posting more consistently #cos i like this series a lot and i love hearing your guys’ opinions on it too #anyway #im so sleepy #sorry if there’s any mistakes in there #thank you guys for being so so supportive and patient #you all motivate me to keep writing this so thank u <33 #locksorkeysgame #choose your own adventure #choose your own story #puppet pink #pseudo #my writing #ill probably add more tags tomorrow #wish me luck on my exam i wrote this instead of studying for it lololololol #whump writing #whump #whump community #whumpee #whump series #whumper #whumper is also caretaker #hypnosis whump

[italictext]

I desperately need to befriend a Death Note fan irl who likes Death Note the way I do.. The only DN fans I've met irl are anime only Near haters :'(

#I NEED someone to shake while I rant to them about Death Note pls pls pls #I JUST WANT SOMEONE TO GIGGLE WITH WHILE WE STARE AT DEATH NOTE PANELS PLS PLS PLS #My sister has seen Death Note but she's not really into it + anime only + Near hater </3 #It sucks to remember that the Death Note fandom isn't just my mutuals.. Some people genuinely hate Near :(( #I LOVE the anime the animation is beautiful the soundtrack is beautiful and OOOOO THE COLOR CODING EEEE but #It butchered the 2nd half soo so badly and changed Near's personality and I'm not a fan of the ending :( #THE MANGA ENDING IS SOOO SO GOOD AND BEAUTIFUL #OMGGGG when Light admits to being Kira and gives them his speech and calls himself god of the new world AND EEEE NEAR SAYS “NO YOURE JUST A #MASS MURDERER“ #LIKE EEEE THAT ALWAYS ALWAYS MAKES ME GIGGLE NEAR WAS SOOO SO COOL FOR THAT LIKE HE'S LITERALLY FACE TO FACE WITH KIRA THE GUY WHO KILLED L #And Near REPEATS IT. HE CALLS HIM “JUST A MURDERER” TWICE. #Sorry but the anime made Near so stupid “lol just let him run away it's not like he'll survive” #I love Near and Light's dynamic so much they're so funny. They have the prettiest panels too #Maybe an unpopular opinion but Near vs Light was wayyy more entertaining that L vs Light #And it hurts me to see people say that it should've ended at the 1st half. I know people can have their own opinions or whatever but THEYRE #WRONG!! DN is SOOO much better with the 2nd half + if it ended at L's death that would've sucked. So glad L died midway #I wish I had a friend I could talk about DN to :( I'll just hope one of my friends decide to watch it because idk how to make new friends #Discord servers scare me and while I love my mutuals if any of you tried to message me I think I'd cry out of nervousness lol #Gosh this is long shoukd I even post this

[beepeircings]

Will be drawing after the poll ends

Rigging may be allowed

#so uhh #rambles in tags i guess? #whenever i go into the pirates smp tags i always see scotts the major #sausage mythicals some err martyn i guess abit of acho and some others #like 90 percent of content is literally scott and sausage #and most of the time they're like !! activities #this part is /lh and i mean no harm. the art is genuinely great and i like the concepts and stuff #but. but! #it would be great to see fanart of other pirates smp creators because damn !! their stuff is interesting #anyways really indecisive on who to draw soooo thats kind of why this poll exists now. anyways vote whoever you like lol #/silly /lh #scurvyblr #pirates smp #ooooo opinions OoOoO #👻

[aberooski]

I need to learn how to share my opinions on games without sounding pretentious because that's not my intention 😭

#this is about my opinions on breath of the wild/tears of the kingdom #like girl we get it you're old fashioned shut upppppppp #and ooooo I'm so different cuz twilight princess is my favorite no one has taste like me 🤪 shut uuuuuppppppppppp 😭😭😭😭 #that's seriously how I sound and it's not how I wanna come across 😭😭😭 #abby's self deprication hour #i really hate how my love and passion for things comes across as pretention even to me sometimes it sucks 😭 #it eats me alive

[majorpepperidge]

zelda fans hate us for speaking the truth

#Legend of Zelda #Breath of the Wild #Tears of the Kingdom #ooooo cheri has opinions and complaints

[theoriginoflove2012]

remember 2016. i would stalk discourse blogs and never ever like or reblog anything i just wanted to know the opinions du jour

#did you know that autocorrect honks i would rather say ooooo onions than opinions

[twosidedcherrytrees]

AI art is a lot like Frankensteining art/bases to me in which I mean it's taking and morphing the original piece without (and sometimes even explicitly against) the original creators consent. Except this time it's worse because a lot of bases were traced and most art being used for these AI models is not

#kai wont shut up #how quickly we forget that AI art is literally just Frankensteining art #ooooo look at me sharing my personal thoughts and opinions wowie

[halfadoginatank]

Ngl, if I liked beans I would probably fuck up a beans on toast.

#British #also I like that its called bangers and mash #bc what is a good sausage if not a banger #weird food opinions #I just dont like the texture of beans though but if I did? ooooo hide the cans bc I would fuck that shit up

[patronsaint-prometheus]

#they’re so sillayyyyyy #my nuanced opinions meant I could not use the shut up abt the white boy meme #you all want to talk to me about my nuance so badly oOoOo you want to dm me and have a conversation so bad OoOoO

[allpromarlo]

can you even call yourself an analyst if you only know players from the best teams in the league

#chuck & shaq are hilarious and allat but the way they talk about dudes who aren't on top teams itl is ridiculous #'ooohhhh i don't know who rui hachimura is' congrats do u want a medal #i actually feel so sad for rui he deserves better than the lakers or wizards #he should've been a blazer. in my humble opinion #but n e ways back to the point #these two should take a page from the manningcast or sumn bc these mfs are funny AND informative #it's possible. especially if you PLAYED IN THE DAMN LEAGUE YOURSELF #this is why i say don't take former players' words as gospel bc these mfs are not guaranteed to know more than the average fan #they got biases just like us. move on with it #sick n tired #rui my baby they did you so WRONG you deserve better #he's a LAKER after years of rotting on the wizards...ooooo my heart breaks for him #free my boi he ain't do nun wrong #nba #shaquille o'neal #charles barkley #la lakers #rui hachimura #chuck senile ass can't pronounce this easy ass name...atp it's for ratings #but lemme shut my mouth

[ast4tarion]

hi!! hope you’re having a good day:)

i was wondering if you can write a smut where mike is a nerd in college and the popular girl needs to bring her grade up so he tutors her. she would always flirt with him and make him get all nervous. she repays him by giving him a blowjob and you can add anything else to the story if you want!! thank youu

ooooo i havent written anything like this, thank you for a new idea :D ty for the kind words too i hope everyone reading this day is a good one too <3 (god this is way longer then i meant for it to be)

cws; sub!mike, slight dom!reader, virginity taking, blowjob, gender neutral reader, a little messy

“Have you ever had sex with a girl before?”

The question you ask Mike is completely genuine but he stops writing in his tracks, his face visibly flushing red.

The two of you are studying for midterms (actually, more like Mike guiding you through the subjects) together in his dorm, books and papers strewn everywhere at his table.

“I—what?” He really wasn’t expecting you to ask that and he looks almost nervous.

“Have you?” you ask it like it’s the most casual question in the world, flipping your pencil around in your hand.

“Uh….no,” he looks very embarrassed, it’s cute on him. “I haven’t gotten close to anyone like that before, and no one was particularly interested in the guy hiding behind his engineering book.”

You were quite surprised to learn this, in your opinion he was quite the attractive guy.

“Would you be up for an offer then?” His eyes widened, and he let his pencil slide out of his grip completely.

“What kind of offer….?” He said it, but the implication after the topic of conversation was understood between the two of you, but he clearly didn’t believe it.

“Well I’d really like to do something nice for you in return for tutoring me, we’ve already talked about this but I really wish I could pay you but everything’s going to food and tuition right now and I couldn’t ever ask my parents so I was wondering if you’d let me make you feel good instead?” You said.

His entire face was visibly red now with blush, and his gaze dropped and avoided yours as he processed what you were saying. He seemed in total disbelief, his hands tapping the table which you knew was a nervous habit of his.

“I-um, but I-I’ve never done that with anyone? I wouldn’t wanna, um, somehow do it wrong.” He was incredibly sincere and it was quite endearing.

You leaned back in your seat, trying to catch his nervous eyes.

“I’m cool with that, I could even teach you if that would make you feel less nervous? Think of it as…….a tutoring session. Only if you want too though.” His hands found themselves, wringing and thumbing his palm. He was clearly deep in thought and given permission you wanted to wipe that stress from his face. It would be an honour to teach him, after all the exams and quizzes he’d helped you pass.

“Alright…I think I’d, uh, like that. When?” You smiled at his confirmation of consent, excitement and arousal already beginning to build up inside you. You stood up, walking around the desk and sitting on one of his thighs.

“We’ve been studying for a while now, I think this would be a good opportunity to take a break and learn something new.” You put your hands on his chest, your voice dropping in a suggestive way that earned a shiver out of him.

“O-Okay,” he gulped, finally gathering the courage to look at you in front of him. “What’s the first step?”

You leaned in to kiss his neck and he gasped loudly. “First the ground rules. One, if you decide it’s too much we can always stop, alright? Two, tell me if you’re going to cum. Three, listen to your body, Mikey, tell me what feels good.” You purred into his ear, trying to take things slow so he could adjust to them. He quickly nodded, and you starting leaving light kisses down his chest.

As much as you wanted to grind down on his thigh you had an objective: make him cum. You moved off his lap and he watched you the entire time with a mix of nervousness and curiosity in his eyes. You slid to the floor in between his legs as he was seated at his desk.

Your first step was massaging his thighs, getting closer and closer to his dick. Your hand settled over the fly of his jeans, palming the denim and smirking when you felt the bulge it held.

You began unzipping it, speaking as you worked. “First step is to relax, this parts all about you baby boy.” He felt the urge to whimper and aggressively bit it back.

Just the tiny amounts of friction and sultry words you provided had began to work him up. You pulled down his boxers enough for his cock to be freed, hardening at every touch.

He was fairly big, your fingertips just barely met around it when you gave it a couple experimental jerks. He made a little noise at this, and you smiled.

You spit in your hand, spreading the wetness across his length to make it easier. It was clear he was unuse to his own boner, his mouth agape and his hips beginning to shift in the chair.

You started by giving the tip a tiny kiss, followed by short little licks to the head. You flattened your tongue and swirled it all around the head, running your tongue over his sensitive slit.

This gained an immediate reaction, another little noise escaping his mouth followed by his hands gripping his own thighs. You were barely touching him and he was already panting at the sweet sensation.

You took it a little further, pumping the base and farther into your mouth. You were licking the underside of his dick, dragging hot wet stripes further and further down each time. You were halfway down his length, finally taking it all into your mouth and pushing it in until your lips reached your loose fist.

His pants were evolving into full blown moans, his hand white-knuckles gripping his desk. He spread his legs further, hoping to give you more access. Every moan is music to your ears, coming out in little “hnngs…” and “mmmfng…..”

The tip almost reached the back of your throat and there was spit dripping down your chin, mixing with whatever slick he was leaking. You moved forward and back, your tongue sliding wetly and stimulating him. You repeated this, grinding into the floor for any ounce of your own friction.

His cock was a wet mess, and the sounds coming from your mouth became more and more vulgar. Slick-filled wet slaps of skin on skin as your fist pumped faster and faster and your tongue swirled around his girth.

He was getting closer and you could tell because he was absolutely loosing control of himself. He’d been reduced to drawn-out moans and whimpering at how fast you were going; his hips had also started bucking forward, pushing more and more of it into your mouth until you were almost completely swallowing him.

Your own desperation made it even more wet and messy, you drew back and a long string of precum dripped from his tip to your tongue thinly connected. Your gaze was driving him crazy, the combination of your eyes locked on his and the slurping wet kiss you licked up his shaft again.

When your mouth dove back on it you could tell he was getting incredibly close to finishing. His thrusts were becoming sloppy and so pathetic that it was hitting the walls of your cheek and the very back of your throat.

It was ultimately your groan that sent him over the edge, the vibrations sent through your mouth felt all over his cock and it felt so good, so wet, so overwhelming that he barely had time to whimper “fuck, I-I’m going too—!”

His cock throbbed and pulsed as you licked his slit once more, taking it out of your mouth absolutely cockdrunk. It barely took a single pump for him to explode, thick white ropes bursting from his tip and all over your chest.

His head was thrown back and he was panting hard, his cock head was flushed a pretty pink like his blush and it kept twitching, smaller streams erupting until it came to a slow stop.

Your face was a mess of his hot cum and your underwear absolutely soaked through. His eyes were closed and he was still gasping, sighing as he slowly loosened his grip on the desk as he rode out the end of his orgasm.

“Fuck, holy shit, thank you.” He mumbled, still coming down from the adrenaline of finishing. When he did look down he swore he could’ve came a second time, the way your face was lit up by a smile and absolutely drenched in his sticky white seed.

“Of course, if I wanted to teach you about sex I had to make sure you’d at least get to cum before you made someone else do it,” You stood up, standing close to him and running your hand through his pretty brown hair.

“Tomorrow after we finish calculus, I’ll show you how to eat someone out~”

#requests open #fnaf x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt ns/fw #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #x reader #fnaf movie x reader #fnaf nsft #fnaf smut #mike schmidt x you smut #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader smut #gn nsft #nsft concept #fnaf ns/fw #fnaf x reader smut

[dust-rats]

Random pop punk question. What was the last new pop punk band you got into ? what song would you recommend by them ?

ooh it's been a minute since i listened to pop punk. i think Pinkshift was the most recent, they're like if you took pop punk and made the sound a little darker and spookier. they only have one ep and a single out but Mars and I'm Gonna Tell My Therapist On You are probably my favorites

#as of lately it's been like anime intros and video game soundtracks #and early 2000's club music #ooooo i forgot to mention Rainwalk as one of my favorites by Pinkshift #it's probably the darkest sounding song they have #none of their songs are Big dark #just a lil spookity #anons #answered #thanks for the ask i love opinions i love saying things

[lululandd]

not even fate;

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader

word count: 784

warning: fluff? ish? ghost is a coward :3

note: funny thing; i met a dude that reminds me of ghost at the airport and we got onto the same plane and i got seated behind him while this fic was in the works jddhhssjj

summary: ghost wouldn’t even think of making a move on a civilian, even after fate (and his friends) pushed them together more than once.

He saw her hand hover by his bicep in his peripheral before feeling a light tap after. She was pointing at her phone, showing him a google map direction that has the track they’re waiting on. Why on God’s bloody earth would she approach a 6’3 fellow in all black—complete with a black facemask and a matching black wool cap—to ask for directions, he would never understand.

“Hi, sorry, is this the right track?” She meekly asked, if he had less honed senses he would’ve asked her to speak up, but he could hear her just fine over the hustle and bustle of the train station. He noted her neatly brushed and slightly curled hair, the makeup on her face, and the clothes she was wearing.

Would.

He nodded, “Right platform too.” He pointed at the sign a little way away.

Ghost had always scoffed at true crime for describing someone’s smile as ‘lighting up a room’ but that’s what’s he’s seeing right now. With big beautiful doe eyes to complete the set. If he was still fully Simon Riley he would’ve chatted her up, but sadly, he’s no longer.

The woman thanked him as she waited a little bit behind him. Had he known at that point in time how things would go, that night he would’ve turned the other way and go the fuck home. But he didn’t, so he stayed.

He met up with Soap and Gaz at a pizza bar—that in their opinion served undeniably the best pizza and also offered unlimited drinks—which they visited almost everytime on leave. Price was occupied with family activities and said would join them later on, which they knew largely meant he would be skipping this outing.

Noting the man sitting alone next to them checking his phone every few seconds made him thought he got stood up, until the girl from earlier showed up, looking sheepish as she made her way. Her gaze moved over to Ghost, so she waved at him, with a surprised look mixed with recognition. He nodded at her and of course Johnny immediately gassed him.

“Ooooo, who’s that el tee?” He started, nudging his upperarm with his shoulder, “Lass’ mad cute.”

“Don’t know.”

“Tae fock ya mean ya dinnae ken?” His voice a half whisper as she sat down. “She waved at yah.”

“English, Mactavish.”

“The. Fuck. You. Mean. You. Don’t. Know. She. Waved. At. You.”

“Mistook me for someone else, probably.”

“Ya nodded back.” He prodded.

“Didn’t want to be rude.”

“Ah piss off, ya shitebag.” Johnny barked, harmlessly.

Ghost couldn’t help but overhear their conversation, which drove him mad. He kept talking about himself while she just kept nodding and asking more questions, and not single time had he asked something about her. Even when the poor girl did find time to slip in information about herself—which he thought was interesting—he found a way to swerve the conversation back to himself again.

The night went slowly, with soap ordering more pizzas while upping their drinks from pints to shots, and the girl’s date still going on and on and on about himself. Ghost was glad she excused herself and politely denied a second date. He had to make sure he went the opposite way she was going before paying full attention to his friends again. Price showed up abhorrently late, clothes faintly smelling of baby powder and shit, and in his tipsy stupor Soap mentioned the girl from earlier.

“He nodded, cap! Tae da hen!”

John nodded solemnly at Soap’s ramblings and nursed his single drink, not opting for the unlimited drinks. Price had confided in him on his ongoing argument with his wife about his obsession with work, and Ghost listened intently as he took mental notes.

That would never happen to him. He couldn’t relate as he would never let anyone get close to even have such an argument.

He saw her again as he got to the station, a bag of fish and chips in hand. And as he was about to walk a little bit farther so they wouldn’t be in the same wagon, his phone buzzed three times in a row to reveal texts from Soap.

TALK

TO

HER

He froze for a moment and looked around to see where this menace of a Scot could be.

Y R U LOOKING FER ME

HENS RIGHT THERE

💀🖕

Soap’s laugh was loud enough that it could be heard from where he stood, which subsequently made the girl turn around. He saw her scan the room for a little bit before her gaze landed and she smiled, making toasting motions at him with a battered fish.

Ah, fuck.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing #ngl i took a pic of that man like a reprobate

[strxwberry-milku]

𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐅𝐮𝐧

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 @codyswhitebelt ✰ part2 of the Gif euphoria series

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You and Roman stumble across a lingerie shop,but he can’t seem to contain himself

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Daddy!Roman x Sub!Reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 590

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Bent over, Sir k*nk , THIS IS NOT PROOF READ !!( so sorry for any mistakes )

You always love going on shopping trips with your man Roman, mostly because he spoils your ass and gets you anything your little heart desires. Holding hands you both stroll around the mall . “ Where do wanna go now baby ?” he asks while he briefly checks the time on his phone. Looking up at him you smile “ I don’t knowwwww , how about you choose this time ?” looking up from his phone he gives you a smirk “whatever you say princess”.Picking up his pace , you both walk futher down until you stop at a shop called “𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐍”. Gasping you walk up to the glass window and peer inside , looking at all the beautiful sets that were put on display. Letting out a laugh he wraps his arms around your waist “ I know you would’ve liked this ” turning your head slightly you said “Of course , i would like this baby!”.

Grabbing his hand you pull him inside the “ Victoria secret” like shop , ready to see all the beautiful sets waiting to be tried on. “So which ones you wanna try on baby ?” he asks as he also browses through the lingerie , taking notes of the pink ones , since he knows it’s your favourite colour ( Totally not protecting my interests in the character LOL.) “Hmmmm how bout this?” you questioned and grabbed a random set from the rack , displaying the parts on your body so Roman could have a basic layout on how it would look like on you. Licking his lips slowly he looks you up and down ; eyes hooded and low “Ooooo I say,me and you go into the changing room so I can really go into detail bout my opinion” giggling in excitement you make your way to the nearest changing room with roman prowling behind you.

As soon as the “ Click” sound echoed the compacted stall, Roman began to attack your lips like it was his last feast. Moaning in between the kiss he pulls away and turns you over so that you’re facing the wall “ You dirty girl , look at you…your panties are already soaking wet”he mockingly says as he flips up your skirt and you examines the damp spot between your legs. Moaning in desperation you began hastily taking of your panties yourself, chuckling at your neediness he pulls down his boxers and watches as his dick springs up , slapping against his abdomen. Lining up his tip against your folds he slowly pushes in groaning at how your pussy invites him so comfortingly and snug.

“ That’s it baby , take this dick ”. You moan out loudly ,your hands quickly fly to your mouth to muffle your pathetic voice. He quickens his pace,his hips clashing into your ass repeatedly going deeper with each stroke “Nahhh don’t cover your mouth baby, I want them to hear how much of a slut you are, fucking inna public store? you should be ashamed of yourself” he whispered in your ear to taunt you. Eyes rolling at you back of your head,you clench around him signifying that you were about to cum, noticing this he takes one of his hands and begin to run your swollen clit. Breathless and fucked out you bounce your ass back on him faster, ready to get you high” Daddy i’m gonna-”

* BANG * * BANG* Roman halted his movements. You both stare at the door….

𝐘𝐮𝐩𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 🤷🏾‍♀️

@trc-punzel 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 💋

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐢𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 , 𝐬𝐨 𝐢 𝐟𝐫 𝐟𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐞 ( 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬𝐬𝐬 🤧)

#jey uso #jimmy uso x reader #jey uso x reader #roman reigns #the usos #my original fiction #roman reigns x reader #wwe #wwe superstars #jey uso smut #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns smut