#GUH… THEIR.. DOCS….

[roxqueenlol]

guh… bar(f) and.. cccarrie…..they wanted to play doctors…..

( @carriecorzetti )

[xxri]

tell us abt ur prsk unit....

it seems i ahve been found by prsk oc tumblr helloo. girl band with something very wrong. more under the cut i guess

helloo.... garden of eden posting.... vkei band that mostly plays vocarock and metal (i dont really know specific genres Heart emoji.) very much inspired by leia by yuyoyuppe I LOVE LEIA.

they don't really shoot for a huge goal like the other units they are all learning to love playing music for themselves and not for fame or whatever. they play together just for the sake of it ^_^ ive posted everyones profiles but here are their ref sheets

they have a cover song list here ^_^ (many of these would be rearranged but do u see my vision....)

and voice claims . i kind of designed all four of them with the singers in mind i am a #Big fan of all of them. ruri, tsubaki, kanna (1 / 2) (she is so greedy she has two), sumire

also vaguely inspired by musicians i like . i wanted there to be more obvious references in their unit outfits but i guess i can do that for card sets (if i ever design any)

as for story ......... idrk how to summarize their story on a surface level WHAHA . ruri is a vocaP and recruits the others to form a band for fun. tsubaki is her childhood friend, sumire is a huge fan of her music and brings kanna along (BAD IDEA) 99% of the problems in the band are caused by kanna arguing with everyone over nothing

at first the focus is on tsubaki and the others helping her search for her true passion before she graduates. she joins the band to spend time with ruri, she doesn't actually gaf about music (she doesnt gaf about anything) but slowly learns to love it and enjoy being in the band.

everyone else has their arcs, kanna is very annoying and pretentious and wants to be popular while the other three are like "hey man. maybe being in a band isnt all about fame ^_^;;" sumire is a total beginner at music and is seen as "weird" but finds friends who accept her, ruri arc happens much later cuz everyone else is just learning things she already knew. but she learns to be more honest with everyone.

basically they all join for superficial reasons and eventually learn to really truly love music ^_^ also the sekai is haunted mansion ish and the vocaloids are all ghosts Here is miku and flower probably. i am very indecisive on how they will look

ermmmm Idk what else to post. relationship chart and ruri and sumire instrument models (Ruri stolen from toko kirigaya #I LOVE MORFONICA!!!!!!) idk anything about drums or violin models so they just get whatever. their main motif is flowers i guess but they're not very flowery that's mostly just ruri's influence being a big flower fan. ok i will not make this post longer than it needs to be Thank you for asking i love my daughters ^_^

[roe-and-memory]

sometimes i just sit down, shuffle an album, and think about the songs in the context of cars characters

one of my original ideas was to”hey driver” by zach bryan being a doc song (for obvious reasons), and tonight i decided i wanted to listen to the entire Zach Bryan album . and oh my god. tears in my eyes.

tourniquet is a song about someone (in this case, its zachs pov) trying to help and be there for someone who isn’t cooperating, who doesnt want help (the person zach is singing about)

lightning, at the point of cars 1 and presumably a little bit after has this mindset. he doesnt want help, he thinks he can take care of himself — help makes him weak, help makes him unlovable — and its easier to feel nothing at all about anyone than it is to be emotional and reactive.

lightning is negatively reactive in the angry way. he doesnt want help, but maybe theres that part of him that Needs help — that needs someone to look at him with love in their eyes and promise him the world nobody had ever given him before. he rejects this help anyway, however, and he replaces it with that coldness that he’s so disgustingly familiar with.

but.. but imagine radiator springs becoming his Tourniquet.

theyre there for him to fall back on, theyre there to clean his scraped knees and promise him everything will be okay. he doesnt quite realize it yet, he may not appreciate it yet, but “i’ll bandage up your body and your bones and your bad days too” (lyric from the song) is so. Them.

“you’ve been stabbed in the back and the rest of your body — won’t you tell me where you're bleedin' from?” his refusal to ask for help, the inevitable of people figuring out whats wrong anyways.

the acceptance that comes with learning love is so incredibly difficult for him. the town teaches him its not that hard, that its not impossible for him to be loved, and that his behaviour didnt ruin him for everyone. they are his tourniquets, forever and always.

[empydoc]

suggestive / slightly explicit thing for hush/doc minors dni for this one!

i love to imagine hush's first time seeing doc undressed is to touch their skin very lightly and gently. to caress and hold their body in his hands and keep them pressed against him, because even if they don't have the smoothest skin in the world it's so incredibly soft to him. he's never held anyone else like this before, so of course he's relishing in it.

also, it's quite a real thing to have someone's guard down so low that they take everything off for you. clothes are a comfort for many. to watch them wear nothing at all feels like a mutual surrender in a way. it (as he discovers eventually) turns him on to incredible amounts.

[dragoncarrion]

i heart doing research on animal adaptations to use them for my dragons while throwing out basic realistic stuff. like giving them fireproof feathers

[correctrvbquotes]

Doc: An A.I. fragment? That I remember. Hey Simmons, remember that A.I. I had for a while? That thing was crazy.

The Meta growls and approaches Doc

Doc: Yipes!

Washington: Halt. Meta, stop!

Doc: Wyaa! Simmons, help me!

Washington: You, what did you just say?

Doc: Tht- tht- tht- tht tht, that I had one of your A.I. units?

The Meta grunts

Washington: Stand down. You said had. Where is it now?

Doc: Gone.

Washington: Which one?

Doc: Uh, uh ub, the mean one.

Washington: Its name. Did you know its name?

Doc: Uh, O'Malley. I mean uh, Omega.

Washington: Well that one's been accounted for.

Doc: I-I only had it for a short time.

Washington: Well then good. You know what to look for. I need a complete scan of my friend here. And I would recommend you don't use any needles. He hates needles, and we wouldn't wanna make him angry, now would we?

[ap0stle]

i wish i would get back into writing instead of drawing or like. both maybe. the only problem is that project A is depressing and drags the fuck on so hard i cant touch it without zoning out. project B is just a giant mess and the only cohesive parts to it are the horrible depressing parts which again. drag like fuck to try and build on. so i get stuck writing little fun bits and pieces of the latter and not making any actual progress on anything

[turianspeedjunkie]

"Good, good..." Siska was still watching Cato's face. And now he craned his neck down to catch the boy's lips in a kiss.

turianspeedjunkie​:

He didn’t really want to let Cato down. He liked him this close, skin against skin. He hummed at his words. The water raining down on them, gathering on Cato’s belly where they were pressed together. “So important. And you can always tell me, if you don’t want me to do something or say something… Even in the middle of it all.”

Cato nodded softly against him, purring to the water raining down on them both and collecting at his lower belly. “I know that.”

[theminecraftbee]

Doc wakes up slowly. He's had a lovely night of sleep, cozy in bed, dreaming of fantastical misuses of withers. Hotguy gave him an autograph and personally thanked him for finally blowing up Scarland's sound system and getting one over on anyone who might make a button. For some reason, Scar's alien from season six was also there, and then it exploded. That was pretty great too. And everyone had clapped for him, and told him he was the best, most important creeper in the world, and that all of his enemies were just haters, and that they would absolutely listen to all of his opinions, which were perfect, always. And they covered the Hermitcraft server in fresh, ripened tomatoes, and everyone helped him garden them.

It really was a lovely dream. He didn't particularly want to wake up, except perhaps to tell everyone about all of the aforementioned perfect opinions. But alas, even after a perfect, lovely, cozy night of sleep, mad doctors must wake up--

--and scream, as a menacing figure holding a knife looms over his bed. He throws a punch at whoever the person is before thinking and hisses, overestimating his strength and knocking them over. He scrambles for his light.

"Owww," says someone from the floor. Wait.

Doc peers over the edge of his bed. "Grian? What on earth are you doing, man?"

"Almost falling on my knife. You know, this is harder than I thought it would be," Grian says. He is holding his knife in one hand and cradling his now very crooked, bleeding nose with the other. Doc would feel bad, but... ehhh, it's Grian. Who had been standing over his bed with a knife. He probably deserved it for... something or other, Doc'll figure it out.

"You need help?" Doc asks.

"Right. No. Let's get back to this," Grian says, standing up and brandishing the knife again. The effect is much less frightening now that the lights are on, there's blood dripping down the front of Grian's sweater, and it's clear Grian is a bit uncertain of how to look intimidating. "I need you to know Mumbo only has one best friend."

Doc blinks.

"...okay, man?" Doc says.

"What?" Grian says.

"Yeah, like, I don't know what you're talking about. Mumbo and I sometimes talk about redstone, but--"

"You talk about redstone? How dare you! Mumbo is mine, you hear? Mine!"

Doc blinks again, slower. He considers pinching himself. This would be an odd addition to an otherwise lovely, perfect dream, but dreams can become weird nightmares pretty quickly, you know? That would explain why Grian's doing whatever this is.

"I mean, I don't know, he normally comes to me about it?" Doc says.

"Cheater..." Grian says.

"What?" Doc says.

"I can't believe you two! Guh! That was my offended noise!" Grian says.

"Look, uh, I don't really understand what you're doing here man--"

"I'm warning you off of Mumbo! I heard around the block you're his best friend now, so I'm going to kill you now unless you stop that."

Doc squints. "With the knife?" he asks.

"Yes, with the knife!"

"And why am I his best friend?" Doc asks.

"You got the crown! Mumbo said whoever got the purple crown would be his best friend! That's not allowed, only I'm allowed to be his best friend! So I'm, I'm being all threatening! And stuff! Please tell me I'm being threatening," Grian says. "It's been a while since I had to do something like this, I'm modeling off of a different guy I knew, but you know, it's very important to me that you're warned off properly! So there!"

Doc looks at Grian for a while.

"Yeah, uh, man, sure. I'm... really threatened," he says.

"Really?" Grian says.

"Yeah. Really. Very threatened. Hey, uh, my elevator buttons are Grian-proof, supposedly, but I don't know if--"

"Are you--are you trying to distract me by offering me buttons? I'll have you know that doesn't work anymore! Not when it comes to Mumbo!" Grian says. "Although. Hypothetically. If you were telling me there were buttons I could press that you think wouldn't have consequences no matter what I did. That sounds like a challenge."

"Yeah, man, I mean, uh. No. Don't press my buttons--"

"Gotta go bye," Grian says, very quickly, and he shoots out of Doc's bedroom. Doc stares after him through the door.

"I'm going back to fucking bed," Doc says, because frankly, this has convinced him he doesn't need to be awake. And also a security system. A security system that can roast pesky birds. He's sure he can come up with something. Mm. Roast bird. He falls back asleep, vaguely convinced he'd dreamed up the whole incident.

(In the morning, he finds a very grumpy Grian stuck in his elevator. Well. He supposes having to fix it is worth the expression on Grian's face there.)

[labselkie]

guh i’m laying my head on her lap like a cat. ^^^ that’s half of what sky sees all the time out of the mask

i’m feeling mushy sorryyy!! she’s strong for around 5’7,,,,,, thinkin of her practically wrangling sky whenever they cuddle, yeah one of them has super strength but she sure as hell isn’t gonna use it

and and! this thought came to me when i was thinkin of martor (hi marly if u see this) and how in her last piece of them, she drew vik in his harness, giving her a shoulder massage! yes the actuators probably don’t put that much strain on her, they were made to be as strong and agile as possible, but it gets tedious having metal on your back all the time!

drabble below. sorry. i got out of hand

“Luuucyyy,” Doc Ock’s voice pours out in a soft drawl. She sits in a simple armchair, in her own apartment, but she’s keeping up the supervillain act. Only faintly lit by a few quaint lamps and the setting sun she faces, her smile grows. Maybe she was trying to ambush an enemy, or simply putting on a show.

Olivia only spoke when a nimble figure clad in blue and white dropped onto the balcony. It’s Sky-Spider- The heroine slips in the window and slides her mask off in a few smooth motions, revealing a sweet smile on her round face. “Liv!” She exclaims, tossing her mask to the coffee table and bounding forward.

Olivia almost falls back with the chair at the brunt of the hug, her glasses falling lopsided as she attempts to stand. Lucielle was just as loving as usual, it was a regular occurrence for her to be as excitable as a puppy. Liv jolted to stand, only stumbling right before the Spider’s toes touch the floor. They almost spin in their hug, but just on cue, Olivia tightens the hug.

“What happened this time?!” The doctor teases, “Were you really out fighting someone else?”

Sky lets herself be lifted a little, her thoughts swimming with joy. It was the prospect of not always having to be the strong one, even for Olivia, they both let themselves open up with each other.

“Of course not!” Lucielle snickers, breaking out of the hug ever so slightly. But this movement was seen as an opening, prompting Olivia to spin where she stands and get the upper hand on Sky, pushing the hero down onto the armchair. Sky squeaked, the feathers on her suit’s collar puffing up like the tail of a surprised cat. She blinks a few times, reeling at the quick motions, before looking up and grinning.

The brighter smile causes Olivia to tilt her head slightly, her own smile slim and sweet. She leans down, a few thick curls cascading down her shoulders and her sundress practically billowing. Her hands find the armrests and her face is near the Spider’s.

“Do you promise?”

“Promise.”

and then they kiss BLAH BLAH BLAH AHHGG

[noodleblade]

(BD & ratchet anon) i'm honored you got inspired by my ask! tbh it was just a thought that had been rolling around in my head for a while now and i just wanted to share it :)

but yes! i think a very quiet and comfortable friendship would strike up between them! since it's canon ratchet starves himself for the rest of the team, i like the idea that BD would notice and try to get ratchet to take better care of himself. (especially since BD would feel a little guilty that they have one more mouth to feed b/c of him)

i do think things would get like 5x funnier once KO arrives b/c KO and ratchet would NOT get along. i'm imagining the two of them sniping at each other while BD is just in the background. sweeping the floor. tidying the datapads. wiping the berth. ( ratchet tells BD that's he's surprisingly handy and ratchet's been considering getting an assistant lately would he be interested in a new job? and KO is just 🔪🔪🔪)

Teehee <3 Thanks for the inspo! I'm always thrilled to talk about non-canon friendships and I think they have sooooooooooo much potential for a very fun dynamic!

GUH ;-------------; Breakdown is used to keeping an eye on Knock Out so unintentionally he does the same for Ratchet. For Knock Out, it was always just how their partnership worked and he enjoys caring for him, but for Ratchet, he can see the wear and tear clear as day and can't understand how the Autobots are going forward like this. He brings Ratchet his ration every day (especially when he notices the medic sometimes forgets in order for Bee or Arcee to top off on what they need). He takes on the heavy lifting around the medbay ("no need to wear yourself out doc"). He even offers to oil up Ratchet's finger joints. Ratchet's response is a firm, balking no but a few days pass and he kind of warms up to the idea. Cue the most awkward night ever where Breakdown does maintenance on Ratchet's hands with surprising delicacy. When pressed, Breakdown just shrugs and mentions he likes doing it for Knock Out and misses him. Ratchet kindly doesn't ask more questions about Breakdown's weird position.

The KOBD reunion is teeth-rottingly sweet but Ratchet ruins it immediately by just being there. Knock Out can see how comfortable Breakdown is and gets immediately threatened. Not only is Breakdown his assistant (the absolutely screaming match he gets into with Ratchet for even offering Breakdown a job), but Knock Out prides himself on being Breakdown's medic. No one else. He critiques the repairs that Ratchet has made to his assistant. He is tempted to redo all of them and Breakdown has to placate him and calm him down. It becomes Breakdown's new role- mediator of the medics. Its becomes a very integral position in the medbay.

[oddsconvert]

The chills I get when I read this series is like no other. A whole new level of fucked up whumper! Doc makes my skin crawl 🤢 An actual fucking tail and ears...and mittens and kibble - MYLAWD. FUN FOR US WHUMP READERS BUT TERRIFYING FOR TOMMY (and also kinda terrifying for us asdfghjkl)

But oh my poor sweet lil dancer 🥺 I feel like sometimes I think that Tommy's got it breezy compared to Will so this lil catch-up with the angel has just solidified that he really is being put through hell on earth. And still he does it all and more because he's so scared for Will and wants to escaped with him 😭💔

I love him, your honour 👩‍⚖️

the kennel, part eleven

checking back in with poor tommy! masterlist here.

content warnings for: explicit noncon touch and use of toys, suggested future noncon, humiliation, extreme dehumanization, dissociation, filmed whump, pet whump, description of past injuries, adult language

part eleven, a perfect puppy

Tommy doesn’t know when the days began to blur together. For all he knows, hardly any time has passed. Where he’s kept, it’s impossible to tell whether the sun is coming or going, because it’s impossible to tell whether there is a sun at all. Not that there isn’t any light. There is. The fluorescents that surround his cage never go out. They beat down on his glass prison, and they make sure that Tommy’s–no, Champ’s fans can see him clearly. 

The only indication Tommy ever has that time has passed is when one punishment is swapped out for the next. Well, not punishments. He’s a good boy. Doc tells him so all the time. No, Tommy is–Champ is a show dog. He’s showing off his tricks. He counts them, cataloging them in his head like tally marks on a prison wall. 

It started with Doc dislocating his right shoulder. Then, it was his left. After that, Doc rigged him up like a marionette; Tommy was pretty sure he’d pulled his inner thigh, and he was lucky he hadn’t broken his ankle.There have been a series of different poses since then, each one pulling and straining Tommy’s body in new and grotesque ways. Fourteen in all.

Tommy can handle it. His body is still strong, and so far, he doesn’t think Doc has done any permanent damage. He put Tommy’s shoulders back in joint; he let him down before he snapped his ankle. He hasn’t beaten him the way he beat Will. Tommy is fine. 

It’s the other things, the ‘gentle’ tricks, that Tommy isn’t sure he can handle. But Tommy’s red collar means that Doc has to give their viewers a certain kind of show, and Tommy feels like he’s inching closer and closer to his opening night. 

At first, it was purely visual. Leather harnesses that accentuate Tommy’s most private parts, black blindfolds, ball gags. Things Tommy would never have chosen for himself, things that he finds humiliating, but things that don’t hurt. Not really. Just his pride. But the people watching, they like it. 

At first, Doc told him he was a star, that he’d brought in enough money to earn his keep and then some. Then, Doc started to touch him. Not just to change his position or scratch beneath his chin, either.

That’s it, Champ. Hup-hup. That’s a good boy. 

Tommy cried that first time. He snorted and choked beneath his gag like he was drowning. Doc laughed, but he didn’t stop; his hands kneaded and stroked and twisted until Tommy’s body betrayed itself, spilling over Doc’s hand and onto the floor. Doc had scratched behind his ears and told him what a good boy he was, and then he’d dropped Tommy from his pose, letting him fall right in his own mess. Tommy lied there until he knew Doc was gone, and then he’d managed to crawl to his cot. Even though he’d hidden under his blanket, he knew that the people watching could hear him sob–and he knew they liked it. 

It’s what they paid for, after all.

It’s happened what Tommy thinks might be every day since. Tommy still cries, but he does it silently, letting his tears seep from closed eyes. He’s accepted that there’s nothing he can do to stop this. This is his life for the foreseeable future, and he has to be good; it’s the only way to keep him and Will safe. Doc reminds him of that every time. 

Be a good boy now, or you know the little mutt will suffer. I’m sure we could add a few more stripes to his coat. 

He hasn’t seen Will since he's been in the doghouse. He doesn’t know what Doc might have done to him. But when Tommy closes his eyes at night, he still hears Will’s guttural scream. He hears the whip crack, smells Will’s blood.

Tommy won’t let it happen again.

Tommy is a good boy. A champ. 

He doesn’t want it, but if he closes his eyes, he can give himself over to feeling something other than pain or fear for just a split second. He can pretend it isn’t Doc, that it’s someone who loves him, who would never hurt him. Someone who wants him to feel good. It helps him sometimes, when his own fear threatens to derail Doc’s plans. Tommy can never stay in the fantasy for very long, but he lives for the fleeting seconds when he can believe. 

But it always ends. He always remembers where he is and who is touching him. Doc won’t let him forget. And Tommy knows that Doc won’t let it stay so simple for long. The people who pay to watch Tommy suffer will want more. They probably already do. 

It doesn’t make it any easier when the time comes. 

It’s morning or midnight or whatever the fuck o’clock, and Tommy’s been curled on his cot for four hours or four seconds or four days. None of it makes any difference. His joints scream in pain from the last pose, but he can’t bear to stretch out; he makes himself as small as possible beneath his threadbare blanket. 

He hears the barn door open, but it’s already closed again by the time he manages to raise his head. Doc strides toward him, his blue flannel shirt tucked into fleece-lined jeans, and Tommy isn’t sure he’s ever hated anyone or anything so much. The fucker is warm and cozy and so fucking cheery–it makes Tommy want to scream until his throat is bloody. 

He doesn’t scream, of course. He knows what to do, and he does it. He scrambles off his cot and waits on his knees, mittened hands limp in front of his naked chest like a begging dog. He’s shivering, and his tongue is dry beneath yesterday’s ball gag; Doc never took it out, and Tommy hasn’t had anything to eat or drink for he doesn’t know how long. His head swims, but he manages to stay upright. 

“There’s my good boy,” Doc chuckles. He unlocks the glass door and lets himself in, locking the door again behind him. He doesn’t take any chances with his Champ. 

Tommy doesn’t look up. He stays still and lets Doc’s fingers crook and wiggle behind his ear. They brush against the strap of the gag, and Tommy whines. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he nudges into Doc’s touch. 

“Awww, Champers, do you want that nasty thing out of your mouth?” Doc coos. 

Tommy nods, because he does. He will take whatever relief he can get before today’s torture begins. He’s already learned that much. Distanty, he wonders what Will has learned. 

“Alright, then,” Doc says, squatting down in front of Tommy. He reaches behind Tommy’s head and unbuckles the gag. “You can have a little break. Get yourself a little dinner, huh?” 

Tommy stays put. He knows how this works. He can’t move without Doc’s say-so. If he does, there won’t be any food or water. And if there’s no food or water for Tommy, there’s damn well no food or water for Will. 

“That’s a good boy, Champ. You show ‘em how it’s done. Go on now. Free.” 

Free. The word hits Tommy like a blow, but he scrambles on hands and knees to his water bowl. It isn’t fresh–Tommy doesn’t remember the last time Doc changed it–but Tommy could give two shits about that. He knows the cameras are capturing his prone body, his naked ass, his fraying humanity, and he doesn’t care about that either. He laps hungrily at the water, no matter how badly the motion aggravates his aching jaw. The water splashes up and into his nose, but he doesn’t slow down. He doesn’t care. 

“My, what a thirsty boy,” Doc laughs, giving Tommy’s ass a curt slap. “That’s just fine. You drink up now. Drink all you want.” 

Tommy does. He drops his face lower, and he imagines what it might be like to drown. 

There’s a sudden clinking next to his head and stale meaty smell: his kibble. Because that’s what he eats when he’s lucky enough to be given food. He never refuses it, because he’s afraid that if he does, Doc won’t feed Will. Not that he has any way of knowing what Doc’s done to Will. But still. He’ll do what he can. He has to. They have to get out of here together. 

Doc knuckles into Tommy’s hair and shoves his face into the kibble. “Aren’t you a lucky pup?” Doc asks. “So spoiled.”

Tommy forces his lips to the little brown pellets in the bowl and takes them in. They’re dry and scratchy along his tongue, and chewing fucking hurts, but he manages to force the first mouthful down his throat. He needs it. He knows he does. He has to keep his strength up.

But, for a moment, when he feels Doc’s hand slip up and down his bare back, when he hears the murmured Good boy, it’s almost too much. Well, it is too much. There are people paying to watch him go through this. They are the same people who watch when he cries, when he can’t move for the pain, when Doc assaults him, when he relieves himself in a fucking ten gallon bucket. He’s not a person to these assholes. He’s an animal.

And he is becoming more of an animal, day by day. He keeps burying himself deeper so that he can protect the last shreds of his dignity and humanity. This isn’t happening to Tommy; it’s happening to Champ. And Champ is a good boy.

He takes another bite. 

“Eat hearty and then rinse your mouth,” Doc instructs. “Your public sent you some nice new toys, and I know you’ll want to be ready to use them right away.”

There’s a jolt in Tommy’s gut, but he doesn’t look up from the bowl. He’s under no illusion that whatever the nice new toys are, they won’t be nice for him.

He eats until the tag on his collar clinks against the bottom of the bowl and dutifully takes another glug of water. He misses the mint aftertaste of his toothpaste, the feeling of his mouth being fresh and clean. He misses so many things. Home. His family. Will. 

But there are things he didn’t realize he’d taken for granted. Grace and power. Control over his own body. Confidence in his future. Peace. He’s supposed to be taking his bows center stage, not fishing for kibble on his hands and knees. He’s supposed to be somewhere else. This is all wrong.

Doc’s fingers tuck inside Tommy’s collar and pull him backward, until Tommy is sitting on his ankles again. 

“That’s a good boy, Champ. So grateful for all that you receive, aren’t you?” 

Tommy doesn’t answer. He knows he isn’t meant to. He wishes he could reach up and rub his jaw before Doc puts the ball gag back in, but his mittened hands won’t do him much good. He keeps his eyes on the floor and waits for Doc to hook him to the rigging. It’s time for his pose. He knows how this goes. 

“Oh, little Champ. Don’t look so glum. I told you: there are special surprises for you. Seems your public wants to help you along in your training so that you can learn some new tricks. Look, boy!” 

Tommy raises his head to see what Doc has in his outstretched hands, and he regrets it immediately. He slams backward onto his ass and scrambles to press himself against the glass wall. 

Doc only chuckles, waving Tommy’s “surprises” at him. A black silicone dog tail with a thick, tapered bulb on its business end and another ball gag–only this ball has a thick silicone phallus protruding from it. Tommy can feel his throat closing up just looking at it. 

“No,” he rasps, surprised to hear his own voice. “No fucking way.” 

Doc looks over his shoulder at one of the cameras. “Skittish, isn’t he? C’mon now, Champ. These are brand new, just for you. The nice people bought them for you special.” 

Doc takes a cautious step forward, like he doesn’t mean to spook Tommy. But Tommy’s spooked. His heart hammers so loudly that he’s convinced the fuckers watching the livestream must be able to hear it too. 

“The other Romantics have to make do with what we have lying around. They may not even get much training before they’re sold off. But you?” He kneels in front of Tommy and smooths Tommy’s blonde curls from his sweaty forehead. “You get the best. We’ll make sure you’re prepared before anyone has a chance at you.” 

“Please,” Tommy hears himself whisper. He stares at the black bulb attached to the tail. It’s huge. He’s never–he doesn’t– “I can’t–”

Doc leans close. “You will, or I’ll ‘fix’ your little mutt friend and feed him what’s left over.” 

“No!” Tommy barks. His food shifts in his belly, and he doubles over. Images of Will strapped to the exam table rise unbidden, and he can hear the screams again. He raises his mitts over his ears, but the sound keeps echoing in his head. 

“Oh, Champ,” Doc says with a smile. He rips Tommy’s head upright again, and the tail in his hand slaps against Tommy’s cheek. “I will. See if I don’t. He won’t even complain. He might be worthless, but at least that one knows how to take what he’s given. Never says a word. He’d probably be grateful to have something to eat.”  

Tommy’s chest beats frantically, but he can’t make himself speak. 

“What will it be, Champ? Will you be a good boy for the nice people?” 

Champ is a good boy. He will do what he’s told. He nods as best he can with Doc’s knuckles against his scalp. 

Doc lets him go, and Tommy collapses over himself. This is only the beginning, he knows. He understands what these things are preparing him for, and the thought rips open a pit deep in his stomach. 

He’s never been with anyone before. Sure, there was plenty of messing around backstage, but Tommy didn’t have the time to experiment much. He was too singularly focused. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. He doesn’t want to admit that he was too shy to put himself out there. His experience is limited to his own hand, to his boyish fantasies of a handsome man with strong arms and a kind smile. And now–

“Up, Champ,” Doc demands. “And open that sweet little mouth.” 

Tommy does what he’s told. Doc forces the phallus into his mouth. 

“I want you to put your lips around it, Champ. Give us a show before I lock it in.” 

Tommy’s jaw already hurts so much, there’s no way. But Doc grips his chin, pressing his fingers hard into the soft parts of Tommy’s cheeks and forcing his mouth into an ‘O’ shape. He slides the silicone in and out, in and out. It’s soft and cool, but each time Doc moves in, he presses it further. 

“Look at you,” Doc murmurs. “A natural. I knew when I found you that you were made for this. I can always tell what my rescues will be good for. And you’re perfect, Champers.” 

Tears slip down Tommy’s distended cheeks, and this time, Doc presses the gag back so far that Tommy chokes. Tommy coughs and tries to expel the intrusion, but Doc lets go of his cheeks and moves behind him, buckling the gag and locking it in place. The phallus flattens his tongue and strains his jaw, but when he tries to adjust, it only slides a hair deeper, bumping up against the entrance to his throat. 

Tommy closes his eyes. This isn’t what it’s supposed to be like. This isn’t how it’s supposed to feel. 

Doc’s fingertips whisper over the leather panel that’s replaced Tommy’s mouth, and he nods in satisfaction. “Thanks to our friend from Oman for that one,” he says for the benefit of the audience. “You’ll learn how to relax around it, little Champ. Don’t be afraid to swallow it down, if you can. That’ll be good practice for you.” 

Tommy can just barely hear the chimes from the computer over the rushing in his ears. 

“There we are,” Doc soothes, running his hands over Tommy’s shoulders. “Look at Champ, taking to his new place like a duck to water. He says thank you for the nice gift.” 

Tommy sobs beneath the gag, but he knows it’s thanks enough for the fucking perverts watching. The silicone seems to swell in his mouth, and he tries again to shift it with his tongue. He only succeeds in pushing drool from his trapped lips. It pastes the leather to his chin.

“Now, hands and knees, little Champ.” 

So that Doc can put the tail in. 

Tommy can’t obey. His limbs won’t cooperate. He looks up at Doc through his tears and whines. 

He’s begging. 

Doc chuckles and wraps his warm hands around Tommy’s naked hips. He pushes upward until Tommy’s ass rises and then pulls away. 

“There you are, boy. Good boy.” 

Doc reaches between Tommy’s legs and strokes him a few times for good measure. Tommy shakes his head, and this time he doesn’t rise. He’s too fucking scared. He just wants it to stop. For Doc to leave him so that he can crawl under his blanket and pretend that he isn’t being prepared like some kind of stuck pig. He stays soft under Doc’s hands.

“Awww, well, that’s alright, Champ. We can try again later, can’t we?” 

Doc pulls away, and it’s all Tommy can do to stay upright. He’s shaking so hard that the gag knocks against his back teeth. 

Doc presses a lazy finger to Tommy’s hole, and Tommy yelps. 

“Oh, that’s certainly unexpected. No one’s ever touched you there, have they, Champ?” 

Tommy presses his forehead to the floor, and Doc chuckles. 

“Well, then, this may be a bit uncomfortable at first. But don’t you worry, Champ. We’ll leave it in for a while so that you can get used to it, and it’ll get easier every time. Won’t it, folks?”

Tommy’s face is hot with new tears. This is his first time. Cold. Synthetic. Cruel. He will never get this back. 

Distantly, he knows there will be another first time, and it will be even worse. But he can’t think about that right now. He hears a soft click behind him, and then he feels Doc’s slippery fingers at his entrance. 

One. 

Tommy’s chest burns. This isn’t what he wants. This isn’t what he’s ever wanted. 

Two. 

Tommy screams around the gag in his mouth. Champ waits. 

Three. 

Tommy is silent, and Champ is a good boy. 

Nothing. Empty space. 

And then, the bulb shoves in. Champ knows how to take it. Or, if he doesn’t, he is quiet. Good. 

Doc jerks the tail side to side, and Champ moans, vibrating the gag in his throat. He is stuffed full.

“See, it isn’t so bad, is it, boy?” 

A slap to the ass. He brims with pain. 

“Oh!” Doc says. “I almost forgot. One last present.” 

Tommy is buried, and Champ does not look up. He feels a wire band slip over his head, and then something soft brushing over his ears. Like fur. His head pops up, and the soft fabric moves with him. 

Ears. 

“Now you’re a perfect puppy,” Doc says warmly. 

He reaches behind to stroke Champ’s tail and gives it another swift jerk. The feeling vibrates through Champ’s core, and he feels himself stir between his back legs. 

Doc laughs. “I knew you’d like it, if you just gave it a chance. Now, for today’s special pose. I don’t think we need anything too elaborate–we’ll want to keep you on all fours now.” 

The slip lead moves over Champ’s head, and Doc tethers him to the floor in the center of the cage. Champ doesn’t try to move, but if he did, he would realize that he can’t reach anything–not his cot, not his bucket, not his food or water. He is trapped, and he is entirely at Doc’s mercy. 

When Doc leaves him, Champ lies on his stomach, pillowing his head on his mittened paws. He cries for a while, but eventually he manages to fall asleep. The computer keeps chiming for hours. 

taglist: @darkthingshappen, @oddsconvert, @sparrowsage, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @mylifeisonthebookshelf, @highwaywhump, @squishablesunbeam, @hold-him-down, @whumpsday, @sowhumpful, @termsnconditions-apply, @honey-is-mesi, @irishwhiskeygrl, @deltaxxk, @d-cs, @whumpinggrounds, @canislycaon24, @considerablecolors, @starlit-darkness, @scp-1926, @flowersarefreetherapy

[sourgummiis]

Ohhh my God it's my time to shine.

So Delta Sans comes from a Genocide run, where in the final battle against Chara, receives and absorbs the Bravery Soul last minute. They win the fight against Chara, and now Sans and Bravery have combined to create Delta.

His creator's YT channel is called 'Animated Zorox', and I'd highly recommend watching the videos.

He has two AU names, Ultra!Tale and Vital!Tale. Ultra!Tale was the earliest record of Delta, while Vital!Tale is his reboot that Zorox didn't finish.

@howlsofbloodhounds made a Google doc about Delta, so I'd recommend checking it out. The title is 'Delta's tale'.

There's also another explanation made by @signanothername , which both they and Howls can explain his character better than I can lol. Here's the link to the post:

https://www.tumblr.com/signanothername/758820362516676608/i-know-next-to-nothing-about-delta-sans-lol?source=share

GUH THANK YOU ANON!!

[roe-and-memory]

as i sound like a broken record, i still cannot stop thinking about lightning with his freckles and rosacea and sally with her chronic arthritis + circulation issues in her hands… i offer you: more projection at the expense of lightning mcqueen and sally carrera

sally has a picking issue. it comes with her ocd, she cannot help it for the life of her, but her knuckles and backs of her hands are always sort of a mess of dry skin. no matter how many creams doc prescribes her to avoid stuff like this (along with the idea of a possible infection getting into those little cuts and gashes), it never works. it brings her a sort subconscious comfort that pisses her off when she realizes shes doing it.

at some point she tries wearing gloves to avoid it, but it just made her hands itchy and uncomfortable and she spent the entire day in an uncomfortable state of sheer anxiety. it drives her NUTS that she cant stop, but its literally just a godawful habit she cant get rid of.

sometimes it takes holding lightnings hand, or trying to divert her mind from the easy way out of her anxiety to be able to properly handle it and actually stray away from it, but in times of high anxiety (particularly races) doc will have to repeatedly remind her to stop hurting her hands and instead focus on something else. his reminders work sometimes, but it usually takes a few to fully stop.

lightning, on the other hand, does something similar but not as harmful to himself — rather the shirt hes wearing or the jacket he has on.

it becomes some kind of instinct to just. Chew. on the hem of the neck of his shirts when hes thinking or when he zones out. he doesnt always realize hes doing it, but he Most Definitely has a couple shirts with holes that he May or May Not have accidentally on purpose put there for comfort. because yeah, its a comfort thing too.

he finds it kind of annoying, but he’ll also instinctively pull part of his shirt over his face to think better. it sounds ridiculous, but it somehow ends up working out for him. when all else fails, chew on your shirts, apparently.

a lot of the time he also does it because Clothes are too tight. like he genuinely cannot stand the feeling of his shirt on his skin sometimes, so he’ll just do his best to Remove that feeling, and it just so happens to find its way over his face like a really bad mask.

[blackmesaflashbackepisode]

YEEEEEAH GET IT GET IT

Bubby: Huh? What? Wait. H-hold on. Wait. DOCTOR! I'M DOCTOR BUBBY! DOC-TOR!! GUH-!

Coomer: Catch you on the flip-side, professor!

[Coomer playfully punches Bubby in the shoulder and walks off. Bubby is still stammering there, face as red as a tomato.]

[demonicnarwhale]

Don't look at me like that. What. Ok some explanations:

Itchy: Active fucker, climbs shit and yeah

Doze: ...counting sheep-

Trace: Didn't want to go the easy route and make him a violet too :)

Clover: Woe be upon ye chucklevoodoos. That and I wanna draw him in some stupid ringmaster suit or something you'll see (maybe)

Fin: Ok he can be the violet since it's more clear that he's a shark

Die: Really just because I wanted to draw his horns like that. Rainbow drinker? Maybe. If he is, then he drinks from others because I can't see anyone in the group letting him just gnaw at their throats

Crowbar: Grinning. Oh yeah uh the whole having to be organized and like being 2nd in command teal just fits him. Also tried hinting at like a crowbar with his sign and horns lol

Snowman: Blueblood, I know she only had it turn because of her deal with her life being tied to the universe but yeah

Stitch: I just find it funny that the only goldblood is some old troll who not only doesn't have psiioniics but also one of his eyes is fucked hAH

Sawbuck: Mmm blue. And can take a lot of hits

Matchsticks: Uh guh red? Yeah.

Eggs: He fits olive to me, like he just gets into trouble or messes around a lot especially outside. Like climbing shit or just wandering off yeah

Biscuits: Orange. Bronze. But also similar to Eggs

Quarters: Strong fucker yeahhhhh

Cans: Another strong guy yeahhhhh! Like those big guys at the circus (aka i just slapped purple on him) and that whole high blood orange eye rage thing weheeee

Doc Scratch: More power to him i guess

HK: hah gets her ass blackmailed by Scratch. "It'd be such a shame if something were to happen and the others see your true blood" she's pretending to be an olive yeah

Also the whole more lowbloods then mids then high. But I kinda just only have 3 mids. Might change some of them up? Who knows.

And yes, HK is in this. Teehee

And I. Yeah there's a default I have with horns and signs.