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[whump-in-the-closet]

prompt idea: Whumpee with daddy issues accidentally calling Whumper ‘Dad’ which leads Whumper to mock them for it.

okay so this one was hard to write but here it is

cw: implied parental abuse, implied abuse of a minor, beating with a belt, manhandling, kidnapping, implied torture and some actual torture, implied forced captivity, begging, creepy/intimate whumper, failed escape attempt

The basement door swung open and a swath of light fell down the stairs.

Whumpee threw their arms up to shield their face, curling up against the wall, desperate for any semblance of protection.

Whumper's footsteps dragged down the concrete steps and stopped a few feet away from the pile of limbs and bruises that made up Whumpee.

Whumpee trembled. The cold seeped through the wall and from the floor, pulsing against their skin. Their comfortable clothes had been taken and traded for thin basketball shorts and a shirt that belonged to Whumper, and it did little to keep out the cold. They glanced through the gap in their arms at Whumper.

Whumper stood above them, arms folded, dark hair pulled back in a low-swinging braid. They frowned, their mouth cinched in a downward expression.

Whumpee recognized this look. They were far too familiar with it. A deep pit opened inside them, a threatening hole that gaped in wrenching fear.

Oh fuck.

"I'm-- I'm sorry," Whumpee started to apologize, their teeth chattering.

Whumper lifted a hand, silencing them. "Shut. Up."

Whumpee ducked their head, swallowing hard.

"You thought you could escape? Really, Whumpee? I knew you were stupid, I just didn't think you would fuck up this badly." Whumper was calm, their voice measured as if they were talking to a child. If anything they sounded disappointed.

Whumpee's hands spasmed, head suddenly spinning.

And Whumper went on, "Are you unhappy here? Is that what this is? Do you think you have it badly? I have been nothing but kind to you."

Whumpee stiffened, something flashing in their eyes. "You-- you kidnapped me! You took my clothes, you sick fuck--" Their hands flew to the metal collar around their throat and yanked on it. "What the hell-- you chained me in your basement-"

Before they could get any further, Whumper slapped them across the face. The blow left them dazed, ears ringing. Whumper grabbed their chin, forcing Whumpee to look at them. They crouched next to them to hiss, "So you do think this is bad. Ungrateful, tsk." Whumper's grip relented, only to stroke Whumpee's smarting cheek with calloused fingers.

Whumpee's skin crawled under Whumper's touch.

Still, in that soft voice, they whispered, "I guess I'll have to teach you a lesson, won't I?" Their breath was hot against Whumpee's face. "And you're going to thank me for it."

Whumpee flinched back. "No, no, no! I'm sorry, I am!"

Whumper straightened, "Yes, you will be."

A wave of nausea enveloped Whumpee, induced by spur-of-the-moment terror. They fell onto their hands and knees, shaking. Half-formed words fell out of their mouth and onto that cold concrete. "Please--"

They heard the soft clink of Whumper undoing their belt and dry-heaved, a gut reaction they had no control over. They begged, half-senseless and desperate. "Please, please, nonono-- don't-- please no--"

Whumper wrapped the soft part of the belt around their hand and snapped the buckle over Whumpee's shoulders.

"Sorry! I said sorry--"

The belt buckle cracked against their hand and they yelped, collapsing in on themself. One of their nails had been ripped loose from its bed and dangled, barely attached. Whumpee sobbed, holding it tight even as blood squeezed its way out of their hand.

Whumpee looked up at Whumper through tear-stained vision, distorted and fractured into a hundred pieces. "Please," they begged, voice cracking, "Dad, please--I'm sorry--"

Whumper exhaled a breathless laugh, pausing with their arm still in mid-air. "What?"

Whumpee shrank back.

Oh fuck.

"Aw, does this hit a little too close to home, Whumpee?"

Whumpee looked away, flushing a brilliant red. Not ashamed, not ashamed, not ashamed--

Another thwack of the belt against skin.

Whumpee bit back a scream, squeezing their eyes shut. They clenched their jaw until they tasted iron blood pooling in their mouth.

"I asked you a question."

The belt flicked through the air.

Another flinch.

"Yes," Whumpee spat out. "Yes! Happy now?" Silent tears still blurred their vision.

Whumper smiled slowly. "Very much." They wiped off the belt and put it back on with slow, exaggerated movements. They bent over Whumpee, who trembled at their touch. Whumper yanked their head up by their hair, throat exposed and vulnerable.

With their free hand, Whumper spun a small knife. They traced its tip down Whumpee's jugular, watching how their Adam's apple bobbed in apprehension.

Silver blade tickled Whumpee's throat.

Whumpee inhaled shallowly, eyes locked on the ceiling, even as Whumper smiled down at them in their canine-sharp way.

"No more escape attempts, alright?"

Whumpee swallowed, something dying inside them. The light drained from their eyes. Empty blue, aching with dilated pupils. "Yes."

"What do you say?" Whumper prodded, the blade moving in small circles up and down Whumpee's throat.

"Thank...thank you," Whumpee whispered.

[arthurtaylorlester]

🎧

shuffled my liked and got stockholm by harrison boe which is THE mattkey song at the moment i love it sm

[i23kazu]

how i feel when someone reblogs my stuff with a really really nice tag

[chirp-the-mouse]

what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

what’s some good advice you want to share?

would you say you’re an emotional person?

^from the ask game!

Ask game -> https://www.tumblr.com/k-owo-sher/761989849124356096

24. What’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for? I'm proud of how much more confident in my abilities I am. I used to be afraid to start things because I was worried I wouldn't be able to make something that was worth all the time, energy, and money I put into it. I'm a lot more comfortable starting things now!

12. What’s some good advice you want to share? If you want to improve your sketches, try sketching with a pen (or something else that can't erase. It's certainly a challenge, but it helped me a lot! I used to have soooo many refining steps to get a usable sketch, but now I can usually get it first or second try.

10. Would you say you’re an emotional person? It waxes and wanes, I tend to either be super emotional about everything, or not feel a lot of emotions about anything. I think I tend towards emotional though.

[me-beef]

@strangeravatar made a great point

i was gonna focus on the spike-hotboxing-celestia aspect but i got distracted somewhere along the way and i think i forgot what joke i was trying to make

but dont you think its interesting how many guards of the exact same color/body type she's managed to accrue?? i do

ooohh you want to go look at our stickers so bad

[hellsitegenetics]

When I followed you earlier today and then realized this blog wasn't even two days old it made me feel like I invested in a startup.

Do you think if you did the lyrics for Fireflies by Owl City, your database would give us fireflies? (Will also accept owls. And there's a line about sheep too).

String identified:

t t t t a a 'Ca t' t a A a ta ' t t t ta a ta ' t a Tat at at t t' a t a tat ' at ta Aa ' a 'Ca tg a t 'Ca ' gt a ta g t ta gtg g A t t t tac t ac A tt a a A c at A c a t agg a ta ' t a Tat at at t t' a t a tat ' at ta Aa ' a 'Ca tg a t a a a t a cac (a ta aa ) 'Ca c a ac (a ta aa ) t ctg (a ta aa ) ' a t t t a a T t ' 'ca at g gt t a t a a t ' a a a gt a a 'Ca a a a t a a ' t a Tat at at t t' a t a tat ' at ta Aa ' a 'Ca tg a t a a ' t a Tat at at t t' a t a tat ' at ta Aa ' a 'Ca tg a t a a ' t a Tat at at t t' a t a tat ' at ta Aa ' a ca a a tg at t a

Closest match: Sepia lycidas genome assembly, chromosome: 36 Common name: Kisslip cuttlefish

[hinamie]

I'm always pushing you away from me / but you come back with gravity / and when I call, you come home

[twenty-qs]

Everything between Jayce and Viktor can really be traced back to their childhood inciting incidents and it’s killing me.

Jayce: a miracle saves him and his mom, forever imprinting him with the certainty that miracles do exist, they can be controlled, he can save his loved ones no matter how awful things get, if he can just be smart and bold and quick enough.

Viktor: he saw the horror of what Singed had done—of forcing a creature to live against its will, of the degradation and terror of being fundamentally changed. For a while he thought he understood Singed, when he decided that he was willing to throw away all his principles to survive his own body. But he didn’t, really. He didn’t understand. There was still a line he would not cross. He wanted to die human.

It’s fitting, then, and unspeakably tragic, that Jayce is the one who played Singed’s role in the end. Because you can’t ask Jayce to let a loved one go, when he knows there’s a miracle that can save him, the solution is right there, it will work if you will just let him try—and so he forces a change onto Viktor against his will. He traps him into the Arcane, takes apart and reassembles his body, strips him of his selfhood and humanity. All so that Viktor will live. Singed wasn’t talking about the desperation not to die—he was talking about the desperation not to lose someone you love.

And so Viktor is…changed. He lives, whether he wants to or not.

And so Jayce loses him anyway.

[halemerry]

In case you were wondering I'm still thinking about the composition of this shot. The absolute split down the middle between light and dark colors. The way that despite that both sides have their own lights and their own shadows because one cannot exist without the other. The fact Aziraphale's side is a warmer sort of light that compliments Crowley's colors and Crowley's is a blueish sort of dark where the windows even look like tartan. The fact Crowley's side isn't the green dark of Hell and Aziraphale's isn't the sterile white of Heaven but are both shades shifted slightly to the left into something distinct and totally their own. It's balance - even in the middle of heartbreak - and it drives me absolutely wild.

[cupcakeruth]

LETS GOOOOOOOOO

[800db-cloud]

PLEASE POST THE ONE MILLION DOODLES YOU ARE SHY TO POST /pos 🙏

sure thang o7 here are some i made that i think are good enough to post. can you tell who my favorite merc to draw is

re: the last comic: i have way too many spy hcs. Way Too Many. anyway here’s (BLU) spy accidentally traumadumping on his teammates. is he Alright.

[stealingpotatoes]

Are the Merrical kids friends with Jacen? I think they would have cousin vibes honestly, since I too headcanon that Cal and Kanan/Caleb were youngling besties!

omg yes!!! BUT CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW MUCH BETTER THAT'D BE IN A KANAN LIVES AU

(commission info // tip jar!)

[arealtrashact]

Second Verse

Part 1

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

In the world of heavy metals, love is denser than hate!

[urmomschocolatemilk]

you should totally write abt domestic dad! simon ♥♥♥ and how like having kids just made him love reader more ♥♥♥

“Mama!”  

The door to your shared bedroom bursts open, breaking the peaceful Saturday morning silence and abruptly waking you and Simon. His arm is thrown around you loosely, but your bodies have drifted to opposite sides of the bed overnight.  

You groan, still sleepy as the two toddlers come running in after one another, launching themselves onto the bed, and landing with a thud in between you and your husband. 

“Mommy! Daddy! Wake up!” They yell, scrambling to stand from where they landed on their bellies and knees and beginning to jump up and down on the mattress. You should scold them for jumping on the bed but you’re too tired.  

“We’re up, we’re up.” Simon reassures groggily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Since the moment they were born there was always a fondness in his tone when he spoke to them, whether he was scolding them or listening to them babble about their day. Even now, when he’s half asleep, you can hear it laced into his words. It's subtle but prominent.  

He pushes himself to sit up, while you stay cuddled under the blanket, trying to savor the warmth of the pillows and blankets

Your daughter giggles, jumping onto Simon. He lets out an exaggerated groan, closing his eyes and sticking out his tongue as if dead. A moment later he pops open one eye. “You’re going to kill your old man if you're not careful sweetheart," He warns her. She grins lopsidedly at his words.  

“You’re not that old daddy," she assures him, and he shakes his head with a chuckle, turning to watch their much calmer son, who's shuffling his way under the covers. You open your little cocoon of blankets, lifting it and allowing him to slide in next to you. 

“Mama,” he starts once he’s comfortably situated, “can we make pancakes for breakfast?” His eyes are big and pleading as he asks. It makes you smile at him. How could you ever say no to such a look?  

“Yes, baby we can,” you lean over pressing a kiss on his forehead. He beams.  

“I want to stir!” He exclaims excitedly. Simon holds back a chuckle at the way you wince at such a loud statement so close to your ears. His eyes gleam with love.  

“No, I want to stir!” Your daughter protests with a pout.  

“You guys can take turns,” you decide for them. Your daughter grumbles a bit but quickly shrugs it off, sliding off Simon and jumping off the bed.  

"The last one in the kitchen is a rotten egg!” She calls, beginning to run out of the room. Hearing her words, her brother quickly clamors out of the bed next to you and runs out behind her.  

The little boy shouts behind her in protest, “Hey! That's not fair. You got a head start!”  

You sigh exasperatedly, watching them go, then glancing at your husband. His eyes are already on you, watching with adoration.  

“What?” you ask, catching his sweet gaze. You can't help the smile that etchs its way onto your face under his eyes. You feel like a school girl with a crush again.

He doesn't respond, reaching for you and gently pulling you towards him so he can cradle your face in his hands. For a moment he just looks at you, a small, soft smile forming on his face as he strokes his thumb on your cheek. He swears he can feel his heart grow tenfold every time he looks at you.

If you had told Simon fifteen years ago that in due time, he’d be married with two rascal toddlers running around his cozy home he would have laughed in your face and called you crazy. He had given up on the idea of a wife and kids for a long time but you changed that. You brought back those dreams and turned them into reality.  

Simon leans down to kiss you gently, a soft whisper leaving his lips.

“I love you.”

[saltpepperbeard]

We're joined to one another. Intertwined. [pic source]