#public cringe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

There are dozens of funny blogs to kill time on Tumblr.

cuntwrap--supreme · 1 year

Text

Today in people sighting: Woman in the Dollar Tree parking lot with the whole back of her dress up, exposing her bare ass. Best part was she started digging in her asscrack and found herself a babywipe or something. My brother got it on camera using my phone because he lost his, and I cannot get over this chick pulling some paper product out of her ass.

#people watching #public cringe

1 note · View note

lizbwitch · 1 year

Text

Diary Entry #14

I ruined everything.Today was one of the worst days I’ve ever lived.

I’ve never written about that here bc I wasn’t sure and every time I thought about it, I omitted bc “it wasn’t confirmed”. Let me fill in the blanks:

The psyquiatrist suggested me that I could be diagnosed with Dissociative Disorder: I could be switching identities when stressfull situations arised. I thought it would explain a lot of things since I’ve been losing my memory recently and that I’ve been hearing a voice in my head since a recent anxiety attack I experienced. The voice has been telling me that he wants me to be healthy and fine so we did a few things. I’ve changed little things but it seems like I improved some aspects of my life: I can now talk to people without problem and chores don’t feel like a nightmare anymore. I thought he has taken control a few things since I end up some random place doing something random I can’t remember. I trusted him since he appeared a nice, educated guy and me, as a trans girl in serious need of affection, I enjoyed the company of a man, even though he was in my own head. Even if I lacked the proper diagnosis, I was almost completely sure I has another person in my mind. But then, today in the morning, the other “personality” showed its true colors. Here’s what happened:

I went to sleep last night. But I kept waking up bc I kept dreaming about the ther guy telling me I should cut a very good friend of mine of my life. We argued about it bc I didn’t want to do it. He’s been a lot of things to me: first my friend, my boyfriend and lately... I considered him some kind of brother. I was up since 5 am, arguing and discussing with the voice about all this. At some point, he got angry and told me that one day, he would take control of my body and would hurt my friend so he could teach me a lesson. And me, emotionally vunerable and afraid of seriously hurting my best friend in the world, I accepted. Now how I hate that fucking voice. But even more, how much I hate myself for not standing up to a voice in myself.

I wrote a few texts expressing that maybe end that relationship was for the best, logically. But emotionally, it didn’t felt right. It felt like I was stabbing my friend in the back for someone that no longer wanted my best interests at heart.

I tell my friend that I cannot see him anymore. I came up with the bullshit that I can’t stand not being in a loving relationship with him and that bc I’m still in love with him, I cannot be there anymore for him. The truth is that I no longer see him as a boyfriend. It hurted like hell when our relationship ended, but I’ve made progress and I started looking at him like a brother. That guy that you could see growing with you. Each on their own paths but we would always be there for each other. We’re not blood related but we both had similar struggles: we’re both trans. And trans people have to stick with each other.

Hearing his arguments, I realized he was right. I felt ashamed of myself. I still do. Even as I type all this, I’m still shaking and crying for how it all ended. Then, he told me that I always did this kind of thing. I would go with him so he could pick me up and made him feel miserable. And, to be honest, he was right on that too. I’ve been on a dark place that I constantly try to crawl out of but somedays I fall and I look for someone to give me strength. I now see that it’s irresponsible of me to do that and I won’t do it again.

Then I start trying to please both sides: telling my friend some unjust deals and to the voice, telling him he will be happy. I wasn’t ready to lose him so I tried to keep things in the middle. I made things worse and then, to end up fucking everything up, my good heart told me I had to tell the truth. After all we’ve been through, he deserved the truth.

So I told him of the voice, of the “other guy”. He’s confused at first but I try to clarify what it does. He’s in shock and I try to calm him down in my panic too while the voice starts screaming at me that after all he’s done to help me, I reject his counsel. I start to panic and I start telling that this is part of the treatment: to tell other people about my possible condition. I do that. Is at this point that my friend starts getting angry with me.

Then, in an act of desperation, I tell him the real truth: the other voice threatened to hurt him bc he doesn’t like him.

Now, a little bit of context here: my friend has survived abusive relationships. So me, as a friend, telling him that a voice in my head wants to hurt him, makes him scared and activates his instincts of fight or fly.

He changes his posture and decides that I’m right. He no longer wants anything to do with me too. I says that he doesn’t care if it’s the other voice or it’s me: He no longer wants anything to do with me again. At this point I start to cry bc I fucked up the trust I never had with someone else. He starts dissmissing my claims that I didn’t wanted this, ends up calling me a very deranged person and that he no longer wants to be associated with me. He ends up blocking me in all social networks.

I cried so hard bc I ruined everything for a voice in my head that used my emotional vulnerability and my hopes of getting better for unknown reasons. He still talks to me and I don’t want to answer no matter how much he screams and curses at me. I blame him but I blame myself more for thinking my friend was the problem.

The problem is me. Me and my guillable personality of giving the benefit of the doubt to strangers and weird stuff that I end up always alone. I don’t want to but I always end up like this.

A little bit later, after crying my eyes out and worrying my entire family, I end up getting a zoom call with my psychiatrist bc today it was also my medic consultation. Since I really don’t want to go through this again, I tell him everything. His observations?

That it was too early to diagnose me with Dissociative Disorder. That he needs more info on that and that he apologizes if I got the wrong idea of the possibility. That yes, it was possible but it was also not. Also, that some things don’t add up like me remembering when the “other guy” did something for me.

There’s also the idea that I also hallucinate things that are not there. I do see and hear things but they’ve always been the usual stuff. Nothing too real and alive like the voice that has been talking to me for this few weeks. The doctor the told me I’m suffering from Severe Anxiety Disorder and that everything I’m experiencing is my brain adapting to my new reality in which, for the last 6 months, I’m about to lose my place at my University bc we lack the money to keep paying (thanks covid), I ended my 2 year relationship, I got kicked form my home bc of defending my mother on a familiar discussion, I’m a trans girl that hasn’t transitioned bc of fear of not being accepted and that I constantly struggle with social anxiety.

He gave me some new type of pills to reduce the hallucinations, including my “friend in my head” and I should be good. He then asked me if I ever thought in hurting someone. I told him that yes, who never wanted to kick your bully’s ass back in high school? But to use violence to defend myself or a friend to actively use it to hurt someone? Never.

I’ve done things in the past that I’m not proud of but it has always been to protect, never attack.

Today I feel like an important person died. And I feel like I killed him for nothing. I don’t want to remember him for what he said at the end. I want to remember him as the supportive person he was. I wish he could read all this. Because I ruined everything out of fear and despair. Because I was a sentimental that tried to be cold bc I was pressured to do so and out of fear, I pushed everyone away. I scare everyone away.

I wish I could tell him that I would never do something to hurt him intentionally. But I did nonethless. I keep thinking that I also don’t want anything to end like this. But I can’t change that.

I just have to keep going. One day at the time.

The fucking monster that scares everyone away, Lizz </3

0 notes

stil-lindigo · 5 months

Text

I hold my loved ones close. I remember the people I’ve wronged and the people who’ve wronged me - I’m fond of their memory now, inexplicably. Outside, a spring storm rages, lightning and thunder crackling across the sky but only a smattering of rain to follow. I turn the lights off in my apartment and watch it with my cat, staring, side by side. A lightning bolt momentarily blinds me, leaving an after image. A white fork in the sky, now tinged a faint purple-grey. I don’t believe I am happy, but I wouldn’t give tonight up for anything.

#writing #for a while I was afraid to be seen as cringe for posting just my words.#pairing it with art made it feel more acceptable as an offering to the public square.#I don’t care much about that anymore

327 notes · View notes

cuubism · 1 month

Text

inspired by this Hope!Hob piece by @mashumaru, have a little reverse-verse fic, Hob as Hope of the Endless and human Morpheus

(reverse-verse Hope and Morpheus are my special special little guys, I wrote an extremely long fic about them before. I think about them all the time and at this point they're basically distinct from Dreamling in my mind 😂)

cw hate speech, homophobia, slurs, violence. it's pretty brief though.

At this point, Morpheus is no longer shocked to come home and find Hope sat at his kitchen table, knuckles and brow bone bloody, drinking tea as if none of that matters. It still rankles him, though. Bloody. Injured. Always.

Morpheus sets down his messenger bag in the hall with a thump and bypasses Hope entirely to go right for the first aid kit on the top shelf in the bathroom. Hope turns to watch him pass, a forlorn little look on his face. No, Morpheus tells himself, he does not get some sweet little welcome home kiss if he’s going to come back like that.

“Must you insist,” he says, as he drags the kit—packed full, always—off the bathroom shelf and trudges back into the kitchen, “on always starting fights?”

Hope pushes his half-drunk tea away, pouting. “I don’t start them!”

Morpheus sits in the chair next to him and just looks at him.

“…Okay,” Hope concedes. His lip and brow line are bruised. There’s dried blood under his nose. Morpheus wishes this wasn’t his natural state. “Sometimes I throw the first punch.”

Morpheus sighs, tearing open an alcohol swab and starting to wipe at the cut on his brow.

“…Most of the time,” Hope admits.

“Hope,” Morpheus says, exasperated, and Hope cringes.

“You know I can’t really be hurt,” he tries to explain. “I’m not human. Besides. You think I’m just beating the crap out of people for no reason?”

“No,” says Morpheus, and wipes at his split lip with perhaps more force than necessary. “I do not.”

“Besides, I don’t kill people and I don’t like when people do it around me either. It’s not about fighting, I don’t enjoy fighting. It’s about taking a stand.”

“You do enjoy fighting,” Morpheus accuses. “I have seen you.”

Hope ducks his head. “It’s not about that, though,” he insists. “Listen. You know I never really finish these things, but it’s my role to start it. To show that these battles can be fought. And that it’s worth standing up.”

“Bar fights, such a noble cause,” says Morpheus dryly, and Hope tucks his forehead into his shoulder. Morpheus can’t help himself, his hand automatically goes to the nape of Hope’s neck, fingers combing through his hair.

“You attract violence to you,” he says quietly. “I have seen it.”

Hope sighs. “Did you really think that people would like Hope? Sometimes they want to give me a hug but more often they just want to punch me in the face.”

“I thought you were meant to inspire,” Morpheus says, and it’s a little bit mocking of things Hope himself has declared in the past but Morpheus is listening.

“More like get in the way,” says Hope, his face still pressed to Morpheus’s shoulder. He sounds despondent now. Morpheus supposes people instigating fights with you simply because of your nature wouldn’t be pleasant. At least when people instigate fights with Morpheus, he’s usually done something to deserve it.

“You are not ‘in the way,’” he says. “If you are, then you are meant to be there. Like when you stepped into my path.”

“‘Least you didn’t punch me,” Hope mumbles.

“I considered it.”

Hope huffs. He pushes himself upright again, shaking his messy hair out of his eyes. He is so beautiful, even still speckled with blood and grime from the fight. Especially like that, if Morpheus is being honest with himself.

“So long as you never hated me,” Hope says. His voice is fragile now, and it hurts Morpheus’s heart. Hope is like a radiant sunbeam, and still more often than not people are only trying to throw shadows over him.

“I could never hate you,” he says, and Hope’s expression softens. Morpheus kisses him lightly on the lips. “I do not think they hate you either. You are… challenging. Just being around you… it is a confrontation in its own way. Especially for those who may have pushed you aside.”

“Even for you?” Hope says.

“Especially for me,” Morpheus tells him. He leans his cheek against Hope’s, overcome with fondness. Fondness that is greater for how frustrating Hope has been to him over the years, during those times of darkness. “It is how you saved me.”

“You saved you,” Hope says firmly. “But if I helped, then I’m glad.”

“Always.” Morpheus kisses the hinge of his jaw. “What would I do without you?”

“Now you’re just coming on to me.”

Morpheus hums, not disagreeing.

“Admit it,” Hope says, tangling fingers in Morpheus’s hair. “You’re into it. When I come home all bloody.”

“Mm. I am not.”

“Oh, you are. I can tell.”

Morpheus skates a hand up along his thigh. “Hm. Perhaps it makes you seem very fierce.” He kisses Hope’s mouth this time, swipes his tongue soothingly over his split lip, tasting just the tantalizing hint of blood. Leans in and—

“Ow!”

Morpheus pulls back, raising an eyebrow. Hope looks sheepish, pressing his hand to his nose, which Morpheus had bumped. Hope’s non-human body will heal quickly, but for now his nose remains at least partially broken.

Morpheus keeps giving him an unimpressed look. “I see you are gravely wounded.” Hope catches him by the hair before he can truly pull away, and he smiles. “I suppose… I will have to ply my mouth elsewhere. If you promise to be more careful.”

“For such a reward I’d promise anything,” Hope swears, and Morpheus obligingly sinks down, hands on Hope’s thighs. It is hardly a hardship.

“You do like this,” Hope swears. “Don’t try to pretend. You’re so transparent.”

“Perhaps you once punched a man in the face on my behalf, and perhaps I found it titillating,” Morpheus says, and Hope laughs. “Is it terrible if I wanted you to break his nose? Perhaps I am terrible. You do look appealing with blood on your hands. If it is not your own.”

Even Hope’s own torn, bruised knuckles do stir something in Morpheus, a fierce pride and terrible heat. But he worries for him also.

“Liar,” Hope crows, gleeful, “hypocrite. Terrible lecturer. You love it. You know you do.”

“Do not get yourself horribly maimed in a bar fight,” Morpheus orders. “However…” he takes one of Hope’s hands, kisses his knuckles, lets his lips linger there for a moment. “If you must be righteous and full of passion, then I will soothe your injuries later, oh knight of promise.”

“Terrible incentive, now I’m going to get worse,” Hope says. He caresses Morpheus’s cheek, thumbs at the corner of his mouth. His look on Morpheus is so fond, always. Then he says, “Alright, darling, for you, I’ll be careful.”

“Thank you.” Morpheus leans his face against Hope’s thigh, lets Hope play with his hair. In a moment he will indeed ply his mouth upon Hope’s body as promised, in a moment he will indulge the spark that Hope’s fierceness lights within him. But for this moment, he just stays close to him, a gentle valley in the topography of Hope’s violence. Morpheus has never been gentle for anyone before. He finds he likes it.

Hope leans down, smiling, and kisses the top of his head.

Morpheus does not like to be “out and about.” In fact, he generally detests it. But Hope likes to be out among people and Morpheus likes to be with Hope, so sometimes he goes. Besides, he likes to see Hope happy.

The White Horse is a safe space for them, anyway. Morpheus does not feel so uncomfortable there as he does at other crowded, loud establishments. He sits in his usual corner seat at the bar, nursing a drink and working on his writing, leaning lightly against Hope’s shoulder as Hope chats with whomever has come up to him now. He tends to attract people wherever he goes. Fortunately, no one has tried to start a fight, this time.

Hope leans in close to his ear. “Get some air with me?”

Morpheus smirks. Inevitably, getting some air will turn into Hope pushing him up against a wall and kissing him senseless. He is hardly opposed to that series of events.

Cold air washes over him as Hope leads him out to the back garden, around the corner to a private spot in the alley by the inn. It makes his hands feel even warmer as he takes Morpheus by the hips, leans him up against the wall as expected, thumbs stroking over his hip bones under his shirt. Morpheus smiles to himself.

“Did you get bored?” he teases.

Hope kisses his cheek, then his jaw, leans in close to his ear. “Hardly. You know my mind is always on you no matter what. But you were being so patient.” He tugs on Morpheus’s ear, then goes to his throat, kissing along his pulse. “How could I not reward my darling?”

“Knowing that I am the one you will go home with is its own reward,” Morpheus murmurs. He trails a hand up Hope’s back, pulls him close so their bellies are pressed together. “So many of those people in there want you. I see it. But they do not know that you are already taken.” It makes him feel privileged. And hungry.

Hope laughs. “Possessive little bastard.”

“Yes.” Hope is so radiant. To be the one chosen by him… it makes Morpheus’s soul sing. “You are mine. I am yours.”

“Yours,” Hope agrees. With that he moves to Morpheus’s lips and kisses him deep. Morpheus hums in pleasure, opens his mouth to him. Tastes the beer lingering on his tongue. Sinks into the press of Hope’s fingers on his hips, and—

“In public? Disgusting.”

Hope pulls away from him, and Morpheus grumbles in displeasure. Hope turns to the mouth of the alley, where a strange man is standing, expression of, indeed, disgust on his face.

When they don’t respond, the man steps closer until he's almost in their space. Hope’s jaw clenches but, perhaps remembering how Morpheus had chastised him for always getting into fights, he doesn’t yet react.

“Can we help you?” Morpheus asks. Not politely.

“By taking that somewhere else,” says the strange man. His tone is aggressive. And most of his attention seems to be on Hope, rather than Morpheus, which Morpheus doesn’t like. Morpheus has noticed before that Hope’s presence inspires ire to jump to action as often as it inspires positivity and good works. But this is the first time he has seen such outright aggression.

Maybe some people really do hate Hope.

“Mind your own business,” says Hope, stiffly.

“You fags shouldn’t be allowed out in public, it’s an insult to respectable people.” He’s still primarily looking at Hope, and it's hard to say if it's because he is the one who looks more traditionally masculine between the two of them, or if it is because of the inherent draw of Hope as an Endless. “Should fuck a real woman instead of that.”

Hope takes a quick step forward at the man’s words, expression hard.

“Hope—” Morpheus starts. Do not get yourself hurt again, he means to say. As much as I enjoy you defending our honor I also like you well. For Hope may have supernatural qualities that prevent him from dying but he is not invulnerable. His powers lie in his empathy, his charisma. Emotion and community. But he takes a punch like any other man. Comes home to Morpheus with a black eye like anyone else would.

Hope stops sharply as if caught on a leash. And Morpheus immediately regrets speaking, for the other man crows in victory.

“What are you, his little bitch? You a man or not?”

Hope flinches despite himself. Not, Morpheus thinks, because he cares so much about a stranger’s sense of masculinity, but because he prides himself on being able to handle himself. On being able to defend his lover. On being able to stand on his own feet after being broken down into shards by his imprisonment.

Morpheus often feels anger, is too quick to it even, but he does not often act on it with violence. It is not so much that he disapproves of violence as that he dislikes the attention associated with causing a scene, and, being rather slight, is usually at a disadvantage in any physical confrontation besides. Cutting words are his weapons instead.

But watching Hope shrink back, the hurt that flashes over him—a terrible spark jumps inside Morpheus. Hope is stronger, is better, than any person he knows. Has been through hell and come out of it still with more empathy than Morpheus has ever possessed in his life. Morpheus will not watch him made small.

He steps forward and punches the man square in the nose.

He hears a crunch. He’s not sure if it’s the nose, or his own knuckles. The man wheels back with a shriek, clutching his bleeding nose, and Morpheus stumbles back, too, shaking out his hand.

Hope has his hands over his mouth in shock, eyes wide. “Holy shit.” When he drops his hands, he’s grinning. “Holy shit.”

Holy shit indeed. Morpheus watches the man scamper off down the alley, casting one last dark look back at them. His hand hurts, he might have broken it—but the adrenaline pumping through his veins is much louder. He can’t quite believe he did that.

“How’d that feel?” Hope asks. He is a terrible influence sometimes. Always roping Morpheus into doing terrible things, like wanting to live.

A smile tugs at Morpheus’s lips. “It felt… good.”

“Yeah?” He’s still grinning madly. “Let me see your hand.”

Morpheus shows him. Hope prods gently at his knuckles, and winces.

“That’s gonna hurt for a while,” he says. “Your punching technique is terrible.” He kisses Morpheus’s hand anyway.

“Now you understand how I feel when you come home bloodied,” Morpheus says.

Hope’s eyes are sparkling. He does not seem like he’s learned a lesson from that at all. “Oh, I do.” He leans in close, presses his lips to the corner of Morpheus’s mouth. “You were…” his voice is a low hum, “incredible.”

“Do I get a reward?” Morpheus asks dryly, though his breath quickens at Hope’s proximity, the heat in his voice.

“For defending my honor? Anything.” He takes Morpheus’s uninjured hand. He smiles. He’s altogether too excited about Morpheus punching someone. Which only makes Morpheus want to do it again. Terrible influence, Hope. “Come home, and I’ll show you.”

But Morpheus catches him when Hope starts to tug him away. “Here.”

Hope raises an eyebrow at him, but he does look… interested. “Something to prove?”

Morpheus draws him close again, leans back against the wall so Hope is caging him in. “Perhaps I simply want you, and I do not care who knows about it.”

He touches low on Hope’s belly, his hand hidden between their bodies. He is not willing to truly expose them—though they are somewhat sequestered in the alley at the moment—but to play with the idea is… arousing. He wants Hope to touch him. Here, in their place. After Morpheus has hurt someone for him.

He cannot blame Hope for this. Morpheus is just a terrible influence upon himself.

“Menace,” Hope chuckles. “You’ve no high ground left, you know that, right? You’ve obliterated it.”

“I never did,” Morpheus says, as Hope lets him draw him in and kisses along his neck. “Always you have been the better of us.”

“In terms of exhibitionism, maybe,” Hope says. Even now, he won’t let Morpheus truly criticize himself. “I could be persuaded, though.”

With that, he slots their lips together. Sucks on Morpheus’s lower lip as he pushes him harder against the wall, Morpheus’s back scraping the brick. Morpheus groans, pulls him close by his hips so Hope’s swiftly-hardening erection is pressed against his, and Hope’s breath hitches against his mouth.

“Should I give you a proper reward?” Hope murmurs.

“Yes,” Morpheus breathes. “Hope—”

He loves Hope so much. He wants Hope so much.

“Vicious little thing, I love you so,” Hope says. And then, in the darkened alley by their favorite place, with his hands and mouth and the weight of his body and his devotion, he goes about showing Morpheus just how much.

#this has been sitting almost finished in my drafts for months...#dreamling #my writing #hope of the endless #hope x morpheus #cw homophobia #writing hate speech even for the purposes of the story (morpheus getting to punch someone) feels so fucking CRINGE like can you imagine #behaving like that. i think instead of countering hate speech with logic we should just start cringing at people like oh my god you talk #like that? 😬 cringe. you kiss your mother with that mouth? wow. everybody point and laugh at this idiot. the power of public shaming #anyway if it sounds super fucking cringe in the fic i apologize 😂

161 notes · View notes

ink-the-artist · 1 year

Text

I’ve been thinking back to artist stuff in high school and man people are really weird about furry stuff in a way that seems like they’re super afraid to be associated with it at all. I don’t/didn’t consider myself a furry but I recognize my art is obviously furry-adjacent at times and I don’t mind that.

I’d almost always bring my sketch book to school with me so I can draw during breaks and stuff and the amount of times people (sometimes complete strangers!) would randomly insult me for drawing “furry shit” (once this happened bc I was drawing bojack horseman characters LMAO) like ppl are usually polite when they see me (or others from what I’ve seen) drawing in public, will either ignore it or say something nice or funny if they do comment on it, unless it’s something they think is furry art.

It’s baffling to me like this is so obviously not how these people would normally behave but it feels like they’re so afraid of being seen as cringe they feel they have to point out any cringe they see so that no one thinks they’re cringe. Grown adults can do this stuff too but it was obv much more common for me in high school.

And it was so shitty how it made me actually somewhat ashamed of drawing anything that could be perceived as furry, even though I’ve loved drawing animals my whole life since I was a child, and I never had anything against furries and had both irl and online friends who were furries.

I don’t feel any of that shame anymore and just draw whatever I want (it helps that I’m no longer getting strangers commenting on my art like this irl, and that I’m not as insecure a person as I was in high school) it’s just so fucking weird that people feel comfortable acting like this

#to be clear this isn’t abt people just calling me/my art furry or tagging it as such etc #it’s about people who act like assholes #people shouldn’t act like this towards ppl who consider themselves furries either #honestly furries are braver than any us marine for putting up with this shit way more than I had to #I’m lucky I was pretty confident with my art at that time but #doing this to someone who isn’t could really stifle them a lot #how fucking demoralizing would it be as a beginner artist to be berated by a stranger in public #I’m hoping this is a less common thing to happen now bc #when I was in high school it was during the height of anti sjw cringe culture shit #so it was probably worse bc of that #long post #sorry for the ramble lol might delete later idk

3K notes · View notes

r-aindr0p · 3 months

Text

Probably how the song cover yuu au would start, it branches from this headcanon post nothing too interesting as he mostly does it while alone but I figured I'll draw a little introduction in case I do random doodles of this little au.

Basically, he tries and sings >regrets it >posts the song >regrets it again >it gets shared >oh no >oh please no no no >ah fuck it, might as well film a clip for a cover at some point >not showing his real self tho

He labeled the songs as lost media as an excuse but he's not wrong and not right either, somehow... Since the songs are not from twisted wonderland they were never lost, but rather never existed but he can't tell this so yeah.

#twisted wonderland #twst yuu #don't ask where the mic went when the keyboard spawned idk it's magic #first cover is decent he'll get better gradually though I don't think his vocal range is crazy he's just a lil guy after all #so he probably adapts some instrumentals according to his range 'cause yeah vocaloid songs go so high sometimes pls miku let us keep up w/#no idea what song he makes covers of probably weeb stuff but with a slight accent #through the fire and flames is out of the question but maybe lilia could nail it death metal style #dude would probably cry if asked to sing in public so he is probably not suspected for now #i cringe at my own au but hey cringe is in the eye of the beholder just like art so it varies from person to person

149 notes · View notes

specshroom · 4 months

Note

i just CANT stop thinking abt kissing choso ever since your post abt him…….. like………

just imagine him watching you apply lip gloss or chapstick and he kisses you to try to guess the flavor…………

or him just licking the gloss/chapstick off of your lips…… ohmygod

i’m kicking my feet…

omg wait do you think he likes sucking tongue……

Yes he ABSOLUTELY does. Are u joking?? This man LIVES for the feeling of your tongues rubbing against each other.

I think he would actually feel a little insecure about how much he enjoys it, like he thinks he enjoys it too much. He just doesn't want to be weird and put you off.

His mouth literally waters at the thought of french kissing you and he just doesn't know if that's normal. He's very obvious as well so you notice that he'll avoid looking at you after he caught himself staring at your lips again. You notice how nervous he is (which is easy cus he's quite calm usually) and when you realise why you decide to have some fun with it.

So imagine you or Y/n or whatever decide to show Choso how much you like kissing him. You grab his face and give him a big fat wet kiss, suck on his lip, shove your tongue down his throat then say something like "I love kissing you so much baby." And he's just.... So smitten. Absolutely cooked. Insecurities? Gone.

Imagine trying different flavours of Chapstick to see if he notices or to see which ones he likes more by counting how much he kisses you with each flavour. He figures out what you're doing and purposefully kisses you more when you wear the flavour he likes the most so that you'll wear that one.

Imagine having to tell him to stop licking the Chapstick off your lips cus you have to reapply it all the time and ur spending way more than anyone should on chapstick. And he's like

" :( but it tastes good."

then he gets an actual stomach ache cus he's eating too much Chapstick 💀💀

#through writing ive figured out that i really have a thing for kissing #specifically with this fictional man #like its so versatile. it can be cute or sexy. chaste or nasty. SO MANY OPTIONS #i woule let him kiss me whenever. whereever. however.#we'd be like those annoying cringe teen couples that are waaay to touchy in public.#jjk x reader #choso jjk #choso x reader #choso headcanons #choso kamo

156 notes · View notes

sammyloomis · 19 days

Text

makes me laugh when people depict sam as this super cool badass when shes an absolute loser (affectionate)

she takes her antipsychotics with store brand monster. she knows what fan fiction is. she worked at a bowling alley. need i go on.

#ash.txt #scream #sam carpenter #listen dont get me wrong i also think shes cool #but shes also a loser #a big mchuge loser who says cringe stuff on purpose to annoy her little sister #hittin the griddy in public (badly) because it makes tara soooooo mad

109 notes · View notes

sonknuxadow · 10 months

Text

theres absolutely nothing wrong with being an adult who enjoys childrens media i would be the biggest hypocrite in the world if i said that there was. but i think some adult sonic fans need to be humbled. please look at the age ratings on anything sonic related. go to the kids clothing sections at target and see all the sonic stuff. if you have little cousins or nieces and nephews ask them what they think about sonic. please. because the way you think the sonic fandom is for adults only and get mad when you run into minors there is so embarrassing. the way you get mad over certain sonic media being too childish even though kids are the target audience is so embarrassing

#im sure this doesnt only apply to sonic but i see adult sonic fans act like this a lot #you cant get into a kids franchise and then get mad when its for kids. hello #you cant have a public account completely dedicated to a kids franchise and put your posts in public tags #and then say youre in an adult space and get mad when some random 15 year old likes your post. come on now.#thats like the online equivalent of going into a middle school and putting up a sign that says 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI #and then getting mad when minors can still see you #also the way some sonic fans make fun of people for liking other childrens media because its cringe #as if theyre not doing the exact same thing by liking sonic

247 notes · View notes

eatingsomegreeneggos · 4 months

Text

OG Mickey & Felix + me having a good time

What if I make them middle aged men who are dating and starring in a movie called "Train of Madness" where they're going on a trip by train and meet old friends and go through time and find out how far they've come but also they have to escape the mad doctor then what

#my art #mickey mouse #felix the cat #cartoons #20s cartoons #public domain #queer #I'd be behind bars if being cringe was a crime tho but at least I wont be behind bars for copyright violations!!!!#train of madness #redesigns #mickey x felix

122 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

trufln

‧₊˚ ଘ trufln ଓ *.°

inayakasgar

Inaya kasgar

nypon-soppa

Rose Hip Soup

sheepwasfound

vailskibum94real-blog

Vailskibum