BlueNotebooks

they/she avid whump enjoyer, 7teen, and general loser

[bluenotebooks11]

hello, my name’s bluenotebooks, but you can call me blue. i draw sometimes, i write more times, i do stuff and things. i’ll probably be reblogging whump stuff mostly cus i LOVE WHUMPS OH MY GOD I LOVE WHUMPS SO MUCH ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY I LOVE THEM. anyway, i might do some oc shitposts or maybe some writings of mine. i have very inconsistent activity across all platforms so if i disappear off the face of the earth for a while just don’t mind it 👍

that is all

[whumpkink]

whumper doesn't share whumpee, whumper shows it off

[bluenotebooks11]

hi…

cw: firearms, talk of death, recapture (implied). pretty tame this time around

~~

There stood William among the burnt ruins of what they once thought of as home, clutching the smooth, cold metal of a pistol and holding it with a straight arm in front of them. Beyond the barrel was Romeo, his fingertips level to his shoulders as he mock-surrendered and leisurely and slowly strode ever closer to William. Gentle wind caressed William’s face and hair from the left as it twirled strands of pale blond in its fingertips. The bun in Romeo’s thick, brown hair also swayed and yielded to the breeze. The only noises filling the near-silent air were that of rubble crunching beneath Romeo’s sturdy boots and the laborious breaths William heaved like lifelines. The gun shook in their trembling hand, and William sniffled, their knobbed, pinkish fingers forcing away a tear from their cheek and readjusting their silver frames.

Romeo remained before them, a gentle, knowing smile stuck to his face as it always had been from the moment the two reunited. William was rooted to the ground, a statue placed in front of a wrecking ball, and even with the gun in their unsteady hand, they couldn’t help but feel at every disadvantage. Romeo’s caramel orange eyes, nearly overflowing with patronizing and performative adoration, bore holes into William.

Finally, he arrived in front of William. Romeo placed his gloved hands on the barrel and gently guided the muzzle of the pistol to his forehead. William’s heart leaped to their throat as they choked on their own shock.

“Do it,” Romeo murmured smoothly, “pull the trigger. It’s okay, you’re allowed.” His tender stare reached William’s ice-blue eyes, beginning again to well up with salty tears. They tried in vain to blink them away, to deny their very existence, to ignore the fact that they had, again, broken before their captor.

William’s finger twitched around the trigger, taunting them. The gun was unsteady against Romeo’s head. Its cold kiss sat in the perfect center of his hairline and his brow. Everything was in place, everything was as William had always wanted it to be. Everything was so tantalizingly perfect, everything except the twitching and shaking of their trigger finger.

William opened their mouth, but the only noises they could muster were tiny whimpers and cries that tumbled from their lips and fell to the charred ground pathetically. They clenched their jaw shut and tilted away their head, unwilling to watch the scene inevitably unfolding.

William knew they couldn’t do it. They knew from the moment they picked up the gun that they couldn’t possibly kill him. Slowly, ever so slowly, they lowered the shaking pistol to their side. Though William couldn’t bring themselves to look, they knew Romeo’s smile had grown impossibly wide. Gentle, leather fingers slipped into William’s hand and carefully collected the gun.

“That’s okay, I knew you weren’t really going to,” Romeo assured, as if it would do anything to soothe William, “you love me, too. Your subconscious mind knows better than to kill me.”

He tugged William to his chest, cradling their head against his shoulder. They were paralyzed against him, unable to do anything but weep.

“Oh, Will,” Romeo crooned. William attempted to push themselves away from his agonizingly comfortable arms, but Romeo pressed them closer still, a thinly veiled warning. “You need some rest, don’t you? Let’s go home.”

[bluenotebooks11]

thinking of restraints.

thinking of cold chains that drag as whumpee walks, clattering and alerting whumper to their every move.

thinking of ropes, much too tight, the fibers of hemp biting and rubbing uncomfortably against whumpee’s wrists, making them raw and painful.

thinking of gentle silk, tauntingly kind around whumpee, almost an embrace, almost a blanket, but still just as restraining and dehumanizing.

thinking of restraints.

[bluenotebooks11]

cw: drugging, brief violence (whumpee fights back 🙏🙏), intimate whumper (carewhumper). lmk what i missed 👍

~~

It’s faint.

The twitch in my fingertip is faint, barely noticeable even to myself, but it’s there. I know it is. It has to be. My eyes, tired and unsteady, flick downward at the hand he isn’t holding. Every nail is freshly cut, filed tenderly, and almost to the bed. It’s admirable, nearly, how much careful gentleness he puts into every subtle threat, as though he were disciplining an unruly child rather than holding a prisoner. But my index finger, my perfectly-manicured index finger, can curl in on itself if I focus enough. The slightest bit of my autonomy is returning to me in consciousness, meaning perhaps I can reclaim it all if I play these delicate cards right.

I tilt my head sluggishly, looking back at his lap. He’s holding my hand with both of his, one supporting my knuckles and upper palm while caressing me with his thumb, and the other manning the silver nail clippers as he poises its jaws over the nail of my middle finger. I hate him so damn much. That gentle rub wears through my skin, sending hellish needles through my arm as my knuckles feel raw. I’d almost prefer to be struck than to be coddled and pretend that everything is the way it used to be.

He glances up at me, a small, fond smile that lets his teeth poke out belying the torment and carnage I know he’s capable of. His hand squeezes mine as he mutters, “Almost finished, then I can lock you back up. You can sleep off the sedative until dinner. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

No. It sounds terrible. But I don’t tell him that. I instead grumble unhappily. It’s all I’m reduced to like this, and it’s humiliating. He just laughs, laughs, and continues to raise my indignation with his “pampering.” It’s okay, though, because I’m starting to move my wrist, too. I don’t dare test the movement in the hand he’s working on, though I’m almost confident it, too, is capable of movement. I close my eyes, trying to keep my face and breathing calm. He can spot a shift in attitude like a shark can smell blood, and if a hitch in my breath is what gives me away, I will never forgive myself. I feel him move the clippers to my ring finger, and I know I’m running out of precious time.

I curl my fingers into a fist as I flex my elbow. Through my bangs, I look up at him. Still, he’s so focused on my nails. I want to laugh bitterly; the ever so benevolent companion, so doting and loving, too interested in his prized possession to see the threat to his right. I don’t go back, I don’t second-guess, I just slam into his cheekbone.

Everything happens so quickly, so perfectly. He lets go of my hand, groaning as I shove him off the bed and to the floor. I stand, holding on to the bedframe at the foot of the bed as I stare down at him. It’s where he belongs. Before he can snap out of his stunned stupor, I collapse on top of him, heaving with effort as I clench the collar of his shirt. With every ounce of strength I can muster, I slam his head into the metal frame.

“I… f’ck’n… hate… y’...” I declare, my eyes squinting as I place my hands around his neck. He stares at me, not afraid, but… amused. It makes my face flush red as I tighten my weak grip. “You… are… dirt…” I sneer through gritted teeth, “Noth’n… but… traitor… scum…”

“Sounds like you’re still a little tired,” he muses, albeit with some trouble. One hand clenches both of my wrists as the other reaches into his pants pocket.

Dammit, dammit, dammit!

“Maybe you should take your nap earlier,” he sweetly suggests. I hardly comprehend what’s happening before I’m back in bed, my eyes wilting shut as the sting of my neck grows more painful. “I’ll finish your nails while you sleep. We can talk when you wake.”

[bluenotebooks11]

hi guys… i’m alive…

cw: strangling, intimate whumper, burns (whumper has heating hands/fire powers), thoughts of death. as usual, lmk if i missed anything.

~~

“Oh, wow,” Romeo mused quietly, peeling back the layers of frayed bandage around William’s neck. “It looks painful.”

“Yeah, whose fault is that,” William spat, though if Romeo noticed, he opted to ignore it for now. His hand gently lifted William’s chin while the other held back their hair. There, on William’s otherwise pale neck, were pink handprints, peeling at the edges and blistering minutely in the palms. “You marred me.”

“The burns are superficial,” Romeo clarified, his voice level as he ran his fingertips over the scarring skin. William hissed, tensing, though never moving. “Shh, it’s okay. It’ll clear up in a little under two weeks as long as I treat it.” Romeo was patient - always patient - speaking like he was gentling an animal cornered in an alleyway. His hands stroked through William’s hair, tenderly collecting it all to tie back in a short ponytail, before Romeo squeezed aloe vera jelly onto his hands, rubbing them together like he was washing them.

When William felt Romeo touching their neck, his fingers reaching around to massage the painful, sweltering skin, they flinched back, wincing and groaning as their shoulders rose to protect their neck. Their encased hands pressed weakly against Romeo’s chest as they muttered, “Stop. Don’t. Fuck, just- please, just let me do it–”

“Hey,” Romeo whispered, gentle though firm, “stop it. Don’t say that, come on. It’s okay. I’m not hurting you; I’m never going to hurt you. You’re okay, just let me see.” His sticky hands pressed down on William’s shoulders, revealing again their neck. Now it was irritated, flaming red from the movement. Romeo sighed. “See? Now it’s going to hurt again. Stop moving and let me fix it, okay?”

Their chin was caught between two of Romeo’s gooey fingers again as he rubbed the aloe against the burn. William’s jaw clenched tightly, and though the pain was fading against the soothing of the gel, their breath still seemed to quicken. At any moment, Romeo’s hands could heat, could tighten. At any moment, he could decide he was still angry at William, that they deserved more for the year they’d spent free. At any moment, Romeo could decide William wasn’t worth the trouble anymore, and they couldn’t do anything about it with their hands chained and his hands around their neck again, couldn’t scream or beg or reason or fight back or, or–

“William,” Romeo commanded, his voice quiet and sturdy, “breathe. Stop it. Come back to this, to here. Everything is okay.”

William’s eyes snapped open (or were they always open?) as they forced themselves back onto the bathroom counter and out from the shallow grave 20 feet beside a scenic backcountry trail. Romeo’s hands had stilled, resting on the crook of their neck. They didn’t even realize how lightheaded they were.

“No one is hurting you,” Romeo assured. “I’m going to move my hands now, and I’m not going to hurt you. Unclench your jaw. You’re okay.”

True to his word, Romeo didn’t hurt William. His hands were excruciatingly slow as they trailed up their neck, gently massaging the aloe into their skin. William caught themselves beginning to relax as their shoulders lowered and they stopped fidgeting with the chain between their cuffs. They didn’t even flinch or fuss when Romeo started putting a fresh bandage on.

“Is it too tight? Too loose?” Romeo asked as he smoothed his hands over the bandaging, “too anything at all?”

“It’s fine,” William quietly concurred. “Everything’s fine.”

At this, Romeo smiled, patting William’s shoulder as he tugged free their ponytail. “See? I told you it would be.”

happy halloween!

[bluenotebooks11]

sometimes i’ll be cooking up a whump scene in my head and i’ll randomly remember my hellish trauma and i remember why i’m tormenting blorbos in the first place. then i move on and keep whumping because this “therapy” thing isn’t nearly as cheap as my imagination

[bluenotebooks11]

whumpee who hates taking sleep aids because the fuzzy feeling it gives them reminds them too much of being drugged

[bluenotebooks11]

i request ur ocs infodump

kiss me, anon.

cw: child abuse, self-harm, alcoholism, general anguish and pain, and a heavy helping of doomed yaoi

let’s get this bread

so william grew up in wisconsin in a happy family of four, having two parents and a little sister named serenity. they are ridiculously smart and have received a scholarship by the time they’re in middle school. william also has a best friend, zander, who, too, is really bright. the two are placed in a class together to help them graduate early and get to their dream school all the way in new york. wow!!

here’s the rub; william’s mom is cheating. fights break through the house, and william, as the older sibling, needs to shield serenity from the yelling downstairs. the fighting leads to divorce, and dad takes the kids. while william deals with the stress by cutting, dad copes with alcohol. he’s an angry drunk, and he’s really mad at his ex-wife. unfortunately, serenity looks a lot like her mom…

william does their best to defend her, to pin the blame on themselves whenever she draws too much of their father’s attention. zander notices the siblings getting frailer and jumpier, but william dismisses it when he asks.

eventually, william breaks, telling zander everything, including that they’ve had a crush on him since the fifth grade. zander reciprocates. they beg him not to tell anyone about the abuse, saying that if the siblings got separated, they wouldn’t be able to handle it. he reluctantly agrees, but says that william and serenity need to come to his house whenever it gets too bad.

graduation day rolls around, and william has plans to get out of the house asap and to take serenity with them. zander says he wants to come, too, and william relents after some insisting.

the night william and serenity planned to run, serenity dies in a fit of their father’s rage. william sprints to zander’s waiting arms, choking out the news of her death into the crook of his neck, and the rest of the night is a blur to them.

when school starts again, william studies psychology, and zander studies chemistry. however, in a horrible experiment gone wrong, zander falls into a coma. william stays at his side as much as possible. when zander wakes up, though, he doesn’t even recognize them.

so, they’ve lost their parents, they’ve lost their sister, and now they might as well have lost their boyfriend, who has almost certainly fallen out of love with them at this point. so what can they do now?

as of present day, william shoves their nose in books and focuses almost exclusively on their studying. all they want now is to try making a new life from the ground up all over again. agony.

william fun facts:

-william likes foxes a lot, so much so that their favorite color is orange

-william is secretly really afraid of ghosts

-william keeps a lot of journals

-william took serenity’s packed bag the night they ran away, and they keep her teddy bear on top of their bookshelf

-william has pollen allergies

-william adores theatre tunes and would love to see a broadway show live one day

-william has multiple classic rock shirts (and yes, they can name five songs from the album)

and lastly

-william was easily startled even before they were abused

thanks again, anon. i love talking about my goobers :3

[bluenotebooks11]

i request ur ocs infodump

kiss me, anon.

cw: child abuse, self-harm, alcoholism, general anguish and pain, and a heavy helping of doomed yaoi

let’s get this bread

so william grew up in wisconsin in a happy family of four, having two parents and a little sister named serenity. they are ridiculously smart and have received a scholarship by the time they’re in middle school. william also has a best friend, zander, who, too, is really bright. the two are placed in a class together to help them graduate early and get to their dream school all the way in new york. wow!!

here’s the rub; william’s mom is cheating. fights break through the house, and william, as the older sibling, needs to shield serenity from the yelling downstairs. the fighting leads to divorce, and dad takes the kids. while william deals with the stress by cutting, dad copes with alcohol. he’s an angry drunk, and he’s really mad at his ex-wife. unfortunately, serenity looks a lot like her mom…

william does their best to defend her, to pin the blame on themselves whenever she draws too much of their father’s attention. zander notices the siblings getting frailer and jumpier, but william dismisses it when he asks.

eventually, william breaks, telling zander everything, including that they’ve had a crush on him since the fifth grade. zander reciprocates. they beg him not to tell anyone about the abuse, saying that if the siblings got separated, they wouldn’t be able to handle it. he reluctantly agrees, but says that william and serenity need to come to his house whenever it gets too bad.

graduation day rolls around, and william has plans to get out of the house asap and to take serenity with them. zander says he wants to come, too, and william relents after some insisting.

the night william and serenity planned to run, serenity dies in a fit of their father’s rage. william sprints to zander’s waiting arms, choking out the news of her death into the crook of his neck, and the rest of the night is a blur to them.

when school starts again, william studies psychology, and zander studies chemistry. however, in a horrible experiment gone wrong, zander falls into a coma. william stays at his side as much as possible. when zander wakes up, though, he doesn’t even recognize them.

so, they’ve lost their parents, they’ve lost their sister, and now they might as well have lost their boyfriend, who has almost certainly fallen out of love with them at this point. so what can they do now?

as of present day, william shoves their nose in books and focuses almost exclusively on their studying. all they want now is to try making a new life from the ground up all over again. agony.

william fun facts:

-william likes foxes a lot, so much so that their favorite color is orange

-william is secretly really afraid of ghosts

-william keeps a lot of journals

-william took serenity’s packed bag the night they ran away, and they keep her teddy bear on top of their bookshelf

-william has pollen allergies

-william adores theatre tunes and would love to see a broadway show live one day

-william has multiple classic rock shirts (and yes, they can name five songs from the album)

and lastly

-william was easily startled even before they were abused

thanks again, anon. i love talking about my goobers :3

[whumpprentice]

Challenge: take the last text/message you sent and integrate it into a whump snippet

[whumpster-dumpster]

The apparently innocuous buzz from Whumpee's nightstand sent a chill trickling down the back of their neck. No. No, not like this. It can't...They can't...No, no, no. All of their friends were in different time zones, either at work or asleep. There was only ever one person who would consistently message them at this specific time -- letting them know they were outside, waiting to be welcomed in.

But that was a different number they had blocked ages ago, outside the front door of their old house. They had blocked them on every social media, changed their name and number, moved several miles away. Whumper couldn't have narrowed it down to this place, not so soon!

Whumpee had to wipe their clammy hands on the bedsheets before their shaking fingers could even grip the phone properly. The glaring light of the screen and the surge of dread stung their eyes.

Unknown Number: ❤️

That was usually the cue for the doorbell to ring. Whumpee would have heard it echo even from upstairs. Instead there was a gentle, expectant tap, tap, tap on their bedroom door.

[bluenotebooks11]

Hi hi :D, how about recovering whumpee in caretaker's home getting recaptured by whumper as a prompt?

did someone say escape/recapture??? *sprints in your direction and tackles you* /vpos

cw: breaking in, incredibly mild manhandling, some threatening, can be read as intimate whumper but it’s pretty ambiguous so yk. lmk what i missed!!

———

“Well. You’re quite lost, aren’t you?”

Whumpee recognized the voice in milliseconds, and it cleared the sleepy haze from their mind instantly. It’s the same voice that plagued their nightmares, the same voice that taunted them through every pain, through every ounce of lost blood and every dripping tear. Whumpee found themselves frozen in the bed, unmoving, staring at the wall in front of them and waiting to please, please wake up.

Whumper’s hand landed on their shoulder, resting idly there like this was the most casual thing in the world. Whumpee didn’t dare move. Moving did nothing but hurt; they knew that.

“C’mon,” Whumper sighed, carefully flipping Whumpee onto their back. “No more playing pretend. You’ve gotta head home now.”

Whumper pushed Whumpee to a sitting position, their touch deceptively gentle. Whumpee stared at their lap. Their eyes glimmered in the moonlight with tears they didn’t let themselves shed.

“I… I can’t…” Whumpee began, unsure of what they were about to say.

“No, Whumpee.” Whumper snapped, their voice gaining a familiar edge. “Don’t say a word. You’re in enough trouble as it is.” Their hand was over Whumpee’s mouth, then, their nails just barely poking their cheeks. “Don’t make me hurt you here, not when we’re both so tired. Just get up. Come willingly, and I’ll consider going easier on you.”

Whumpee obliged.

[bluenotebooks11]

Oooh requests are opened? 👀

What about a whumpee falling through the ice and Caretaker having to pull them out and warm them up from hypothermia? :D

-- @whumperofworlds

see? this guy gets it.

cw: hypothermia (duh), whump stuff and whatnot, implied nonsexual nudity. as always, lmk if i missed anything! they/them whumpee and he/him caretaker for clarity :3

———

Whumpee’s wet hair clung to their forehead as they shivered, clinging to the towel draped around their shoulders like it would disappear whenever they let it fall to the tile floor of the bathroom. They stood before a mirror, blankly staring at Caretaker’s reflection as he fussed with the hair dryer, shoving it into the socket by the sink.

“There we go,” Caretaker mumbled under his breath. “Hang tight, Whumpee. It’ll be a little loud.”

Whumpee closed their eyes, tightening their grip on their towel until their fingers might have pressed right through the fabric. As the hair dryer whirred to life, they could feel careful fingers reach their scalp. The kind touch was a stark, though welcome, contrast to the freezing lake just below the sheet of ice they had fallen through not fifteen minutes prior. Thank God for Caretaker’s past in lifeguarding and inhuman tolerance to the cold.

Warm air covered Whumpee’s head like a fuzzy blanket on a snowy evening, making them lean into Caretaker’s fingers. The gentle petting as Caretaker attempted to make sure Whumpee’s head was not just dry, but warm as well, made the tension in their shoulders evaporate alongside the lake water.

When they had finally dried, the towel falling from their shoulders and having been replaced by a comfortable set of pajamas, Caretaker sighed, a fond smile on his lips. “Let’s try ice skating at a rink next time, alright?”

[bluenotebooks11]

bored asf send me whump stuff to write 🙏

no characters tho bc i don’t wanna butcher anyone’s blorbo </3

[bluenotebooks11]

hypothermia in whump is CRIMINALLY underrated. it gives way to intimate whumpers really easily, it makes the whumpees all chilly and desperate for comfort, all around just a perfect trope!!

[bluenotebooks11]

sorry i’ve not posted ever at all here are some jars i made

[bluenotebooks11]

woah hi gang it’s been a second huh? i’ve been going through hella shit, so sorry for not doing literally anything. ummm i don’t have much to offer you even though i’ve been suffering, so please accept this drawing from earlier in goretober (i gave up on day like five :|)

it’s surgery so content warning uhhh blood n guts n exposed organs

my fuckin blorbo means the world to me like this little guy is the thing that’s kept me sane this whole time