#whimper

[ao3-crack]

(x)

[trashgrl666]

[xia0ming56]

Gregors la manchaland id is unrealistic cos how do u put on that mask while wearing glasses smh🤦‍♀️

[dumbbsomeone]

Ken is 100% the type of man to have a praising kink and whimper 🥱

[blackhat-organization]

HEEEE HEEEEM,,,, UUUEEEHHHH,,,, *SNIFF* HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEm HUUUEEEMM uEEEEH uuu,, UAAAHHH UEEEEHH HEEEMM,,,,

[farter-imperator]

Mature tentacle warning ahead!

Okay, hear me out.

Rain with a tentacle down there.

It's skinny and smooth and resides in a sheath where Rain's clit would be. To an outside observer, it looks like a hole about the width of the tip of a pinky finger (yes, Swiss has tried to put his pinky in there.)

This tentacle has a mind of its own. Rain cannot control it in any way.

The tentacle recognises people. Rain doesn't know if it's from scent or sound or how his own body reacts to the person, he's not sure how it works.

Whenever one of Rain's partners play with him, the tentacle will come out from their sheath and wrap around their wrist and squeeze, all happy to see their partner. It likes to twist in and out between Phantom's fingers. Swiss likes to French kiss it.

If it's someone the tentacle doesn't know, Rain has to coax them out of their hiding place. One hand spreading his lips, the other gently tickling under the hole until the tentacle slowly emerges. If the tentacle is still unsure, it wraps itself around Rain's thigh shyly.

There are certain problems caused by having a tentacle with its own autonomy.

Namely, when it's bored, it'll slide out of its' sheath and slip into Rain. No matter what Rain's doing. It's happened on stage before, Rain's excitement riling it up.

[kittykatninja321]

there are characters for whom “poor little meow meow” doesn’t quite cut it. To me he’s like a traumatized pit bull mix with a bite history and I’m the white girl with a savior complex trying to stop them from putting him down

[freakattack]

[scary-monsters]

my fake bf who eats rocks and has an attitude problem 🧡

[otterpuppss]

a heem heem

[mooncalfed]

whimper (i)

insomniac Simon Riley learns to exist in the dark

[ fem!reader - inexperienced!reader - slow burn]

He rings in the second night of leave the same way he has for eight years now - a sharp inhale, eyes flying open, heart racing, a moment of weightlessness before crushing anxiety.

On the pillow to his right are a pair of folded sweatpants and hoodie. They lay largely undisturbed because they belong to a man that has learned to lie still.

He sits up, puts on the hoodie and slips on the sweatpants before sliding his phone and keys from his bedside table into the pocket of his sweats. He vaguely notes that there is a hole in his pocket but also remembers that he has noticed this eleven times and has yet to do anything about it.

A roll of the shoulders, a quick, snatched yawn, and he is walking quietly to his front door.

He grabs his mask, a simple black surgical one for the witching hour, and slides a beanie over his head.

He slips out of his apartment without so much as a shuffle and takes quick stock of the corridor. Empty, cool, silent. Same every night, but vigilance pays dividends for someone like him. The locks on his apartment click into place and he shoves his hand in his pockets before melting into the night.

It takes four hundred and twenty-seven steps for him to arrive at his destination.

It’s a small coffee shop slash bar that opened a while back. Between his deployment to Bosnia and Peru, if he remembers correctly. It’s tiny and open at all hours for some inane reason, but he is thankful for the routine respite it offers.

There is no one on the street as he nears the shop. As he walks in he notes that there is no one in the shop, either. It isn’t out of the ordinary, but he briefly wonders about the financial viability of a place like this before he realises he doesn’t give a fuck.

He marches straight to the corner booth that gives him a perfect view of the entire store. Back to the wall, entrance at eleven o’clock with the kitchen doors at two o’clock. The owner hasn’t come out from the kitchen yet but that’s okay, because there’s a routine that needs to be followed and he is a few minutes early.

The clock above the drip coffee machine reads 3:07 and with each minute that passes he finds himself winding tighter, stomach clenched and fingers curled into fists in his pockets. He runs his thumb along the length of his apartment key, feeling the cool metallic teeth warm up as his flesh presses harder and harder against its grooves.

He counts his breaths, two beats in and five beats out. In through the nose and out through the mouth.

He’s at breath twenty-five when you walk in.

Huffing from the cold, you stumble in far less gracefully than you usually do. He notes your gloved hands and thick coat and it occurs to him that it is rather cold outside. He has a difficult time noticing these things anymore, rarely cares.

He sees your bag on your shoulder and a clump of your hair trapped under its strap and wonders whether you will bother pulling it out before you set down your bag, or whether you will slump into a chair and just wince when your hair is caught by the material. He’s seen you do the latter far more often.

You rustle for something in your pocket and he watches with a pulse of amusement as you pull out a rubber, your phone, and a hair tie all in the same gesture. Those items are placed on the table you always choose - the left side of the shop, directly opposite the coffee machine, back to the window, two tables away from the entrance and two tables diagonally away from him.

It bothers him that your back is to the window. It disturbs him deeply that it doesn’t seem to phase you, that you put yourself in such a vulnerable position and seem to actually like that.

You pull out the chair and your bag slumps to the ground. He flicks his eyes up just in time to see you grimace when your hair is snagged by your bag. He smirks.

The next bit, he knows by heart.

First comes your drawing pad. Then, your two notebooks, one blue and soft-bound, the other black and hard-covered. Then comes your wooden case of oil pastels, which is placed underneath and followed by a smaller green box of pencils. You rearrange your phone so that it is on your right, and then flip it so the screen faces down. The rubber is set on top of that, and then your hair is tied up into a loose but high ponytail.

You take a deep breath, and he finds himself mirroring you. 

Fists clenched, stomach tense, jaw trembling.

You look up and smile.

“Hello Simon.”

He breathes out.

[joe-spookyy]

its whimper wednesday

[theolddivorcedzukka]

i just saw a bad post but i won’t talk about it. behold my beautiful silence

[spaciebabie]

springtrap but when you first meet him, his voicebox is all gunked up so he can't rly talk, and the two of you spend a lotta time together and he starts really liking you. and eventually, when you finally find a voicebox to replace his, he's so thankful that you care enough to help him that he accidentally says the first thing that comes to mind before he can catch himself, which is "you're wonderful."

SILENCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[ilonacho]

i am once again asking pls send me good luck n prayers🙏

[dyingweapon]

hrerngghhhh new name need a new name raaaaaaghghhhhh need to be a new person aauughhh