fun things to do with your boyfriend in space:
go on spacewalks
stargazing 😍🌠
chart constellations
watch him get impaled by rebar
Claire Keane
Keni

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$LAYYYTER
YOU ARE THE REASON
KIROKAZE
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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

@theartofmadeline
Stranger Things
we're not kids anymore.
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
cherry valley forever
dirt enthusiast
AnasAbdin

Origami Around

#extradirty
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noise dept.
tumblr dot com
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@roseandink
fun things to do with your boyfriend in space:
go on spacewalks
stargazing 😍🌠
chart constellations
watch him get impaled by rebar
The gardens are beautiful today— they're always beautiful, of course, his master wouldn’t have it any other way— but the fresh spring blooms of powder pink and the scent of jasmine filling the air enraptures valentine. He walks through the garden airily, using the free time master has given him wisely, taking in the soft colours and textures of the garden.
At least, until he collided with something much more solid than a flower, and falls to the ground with a yelp. For a second he sits there, pulled from his pleasant daze, until a freckled hand takes his own.
“pardon me,” a quiet voice says, and valentine lifts his head to see the stranger who bumped into him. His hair is wildly curly, a soft chestnut brown that casts bouncing shadows over his freckles face. Eyes like melted chocolate stare down at him, devoid of any emotion, which seems wrong. His eyes seem like the kind that deserve the glint of a smile.
Valentine let’s the stranger pull him to his feet, and once he’s standing, brushes off the delicate silk he’d been dressed in. “No, the fault is mine,” he says, making sure there’s no tears or stains. Master wouldn’to be pleased if he was to damage a gift, especially one made to decorate him. “I got so caught in the gardens beauty, I lost myself.”
The stranger bows his head, and moves to leave, but valentine holds out a hand. “Wait,” he says, and the stranger pauses. “You’re new, aren't you? I haven't seen your face around. What do you do?”
“I’m a servant, sir.” The stranger says. “Hired recently. I’m sorry again for disturbing you.” His eyes refuse to meet valentines, just staring down towards the cobblestone path. He pays the disrespect no mind; the servants are often skittish and shy, especially when talking to him. They fear his master, though Valentine doesn’to see what for. Punishments are never too harsh, and they always leave mostly intact.
The servant shifts in place, his features still as stone. “Do you need anything else, sir?” He asks. Valentine doesn’t fault him for being eager to leave, back to his servants tasks.
“One thing,” valentine smiles, trying to come off as friendly. He likes to get to know the servants, the cooks and maids. His master is all he needs, but sometimes he enjoys the conversations of others. “What is your name?”
“Myren, sir.” The servant says.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, myren. Maybe our paths will meet again?”
Myren nods, and something about his stone set expression wavers. Valentine smiles, softly giving myren a nod. “Thank you. You may go, myren, and enjoy the day.”
He watches myren leave, wondering why he felt so drawn to the strange man, with his callused hands and joyless eyes. There was something in him that made Valentine want to see more.
A clock strikes, gently calling out the time, and Valentine smiles. His free time is over, and master will be expecting him in his chambers, ready to serve him. Valentine can't wait to be a good pet. It’s all he could ever, ever want.
!! i can't wait to read more of your work
Thank you!! ❤️ I’m excited to post more!
Hey! A couple things!
1) I changed my name from rosewhump to roseandink! Same blog, same person, but more of a general focus on writing
2) I’m working on some writing to post! Valentine will be getting another short story, and my new ocs will get some spotlight (Sparkee, Daisy, and Anise) along with a few multi part stories about pigeon (she’s grown immensely!)
3) id like to be more active in the writing community, so if you’d like to send me prompts, asks, or messages it would be greatly appreciated! I’m looking for blogs to follow, so don’t hesitate to hit me up with your own writing!
That’s all, thank you for following and have a great day!
I’ve been thinking of bringing this blog back to life, but more for general writing then just whump. Would any of y’all care too much about that?
Vivaah, Part 1
Prologue
—
The morning goes on as all mornings do, with Grackle cooking breakfast (fluffy pancakes with berries and honey), Willow feeding and playing with Lucky before they sit down to eat. They don’t have any particular plans set for after work that day, so Willow suggests they go have their dinner in the public park, staying out late and stargazing. Grackle’s eyes light up, and he nods eagerly.
They leave for work hand in hand soon, and part ways in front of the clinic with a kiss. Willow has an extra spring in his step that whole morning.
“I’m going to propose to Gray tonight,” he tells his friends during their lunch break, unable to keep the big news to himself much longer.
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GIVEAWAY TIME
I like doing Giveaway’s when I reach follower milestones, so I’m going to do one now.
Prize: I’m giving away two oc headshots like the ones pictured above. First and Second place will each win one.
About:
1) This giveaway is for followers only. New followers are welcome as well.
2) If you win, I will contact you through Tumblr. If you do not respond in 24h I will choose a new winner.
3) You must be able to provide references for your oc that you would like drawn. Humans and Humanoid only.
How to get entries to the giveaway:
Reblog this post. One reblog entry per person.
Following my main blog/art blog @clockworkgalaxies will also get you another entry.
Thanks and good luck!
Hey there’s this (please keep with me) musical about spies and the main character get hurt a lot (obvi) not a lot of after care but you take what you can get from a play. There’s this one song tho, Torture Tango that is BRILLIANT. It’s amazing to watch and in the cast recording you can hear all his little whimpers and cries. Please check it out if you’ve got nothing better to do
Oh cool! Thanks for the rec! I like musicals :)
This sounds like my jam!!!! I’m going to go fins this musical right now.
@fyeahvulnerablemen and @aceofwhump
I think it’s called “Spies are Forever”
Here’s the song itself:
And here’s the scene surrounding it:
It has all the fun visuals ;) (But beware of teeth squick!!)
The scene immediately following what happens at the end *waggly eyebrows*:
Aaaand the whole musical:
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLlF0gFzOX4tD1KJ5ZEnvhD55Qhnz-K0X2
You’re welcome!
THANK YOU!!!! I’m totally watching this. It looks amazing and fun.
The whumper has been keeping the whumpee hostage for days, or even weeks, torturing them. Finally, the whumpee cannot handle the pain any longer, and passes out.
The whumper travels to a public place, like a park, unloads the whumpee, and calls the whumpee’s team, pretending to be a “concerned citizen.”
“I found your number in their pocket,” the whumper says. “And right before they passed out, they begged me not to call 911. I was hoping…”
The team, of course, comes rushing to the whumpee’s side, and the whumper sticks to their character, saying they don’t know what happened, they just found the whumpee like this, “Are they going to be okay? Are you sure they can’t go to the hospital?” And in general, act so shaken and upset that the team finally agrees to let them come back to their base.
There, the integrate themselves into the care of the whumpee, offering an extra set of hands wherever is needed, keeping watch over the whumpee’s bedside for hours, slowly gaining the team’s trust.
When the whumpee finally comes to, and is horrified to see the whumper, the team assumes they’re confused from the meds and the torture, and the whumper plays into that, acting utterly hurt and confused by the whumpee’s actions.
Cue moments of feigned reassurance-“Don’t worry, I’m right here,”-that warm the hearts of the team members, but are secretly threats.
How long does it take the team to believe the whumpee?
Do they ever, or does the whumper accidentally get found out?
How does the team react when they find out they’ve been trusting the whumpee’s safety to the person who hurt them?
What do they do?
Does the whumpee forgive them?
“Shh. It’s alright, now. I won’t hurt you anymore today. Stop crying… there you go, you’re okay. It’s all done. You can’t make me that angry, can’t make me lose my temper - you don’t want that to happen again, do you?”
The whumpee sobs into the whumper’s chest, clutching at their shirt and shaking. They’ve never, ever, been hurt this badly before.
“You-you killed him!”
“He hurt you. He was going to kill you–”
“He was punishing me! I deserved it!”
“Is that what he told you?”
“…”
A caregiver having to literally sound like the whumper (give an order, yell at the whumpee) to get them to listen because they’re just so afraid and can’t listen to reason.
The whumpee immediately stopping whatever they were doing/does what they’re ordered to while apologizing in a weak, shaky voice.
The caregiver is absolutely heartbroken, but knows they had to do it to help them. They can apologize later.
Send a character + outfit + accessory - Part 3!
Please, do not repost on Tumblr or any other site, or take these outfits for your oc for permanent use! Also, please please please do not delete my comment!
Thank you and enjoy~
based on a rp i’m having with @malfunction-whump, Eos is her big beautiful sunshine man and the tiny dragon boy is mine, i had a lot of fun working on this and i hope you like it!
The night is cold, silent, and unforgiving as pigeon presses herself against the side of the cabin. The rain has soaked her thoroughly, wet dampness clinging to her hair, mingling with the tears slowly sliding down her face.
The wall thumps, and she her hands fly to cover her mouth, muffling a squeak. The familiar (terribly, horribly familiar) sounds of metal clashing against metal, metal clashing against skin, echo out of the open door. Her friends are inside. Two, bleeding out, choked screams hitting her like knives. One, fighting for their life, fighting because she needed help, because she was too weak.
“We need to run” is whispered, frantically in her ear. Her breath stutters. She’d almost forgotten Rosie was there, standing next to her. Nodding, she wiped her cheeks and took a breathe.
“We’re coming back.” She whispered. “We’re getting help.”
“I know,” Rosie says, but her words aren’t committed.
She’s pulled along, footsteps heavy against the gravel, tearful gasps pushing her away, away from the screams, away from her friends, towards the light of the tavern, so close but so far. Her thoughts are a repetition of promises, of hopes, silent calls for them to hold on just a while longer, please just a while longer. She can't lose anyone, she cant.
But she is too late, and by the time she is back, help in tow, their bodies are already cold.
anders is @whump-sprite ‘s oc.
They saw him with Lux, when Lux was accosted by those cops and arrested. Other magic users saw it. And they were appalled, enraged, by how Emory did nothing.
“If you cared about your boyfriend, you would’ve taken a bullet before letting him get dragged away for those cops to take a piece of him.” The warlock flicks his hand, and Emory jolts back against the wall with a grunt, hands going to his stomach. It feels like he’s just been kicked, hard.
“I got him back, he’s okay -” Emory’s cut off by another invisible blow, to his side, even though no one stepped close to hit him. He can’t see where they’re coming from. He’s seen things on TV, heard stories and warnings all his life about how violent magic users are, but he never felt right believing it. Magic, though, he’s learning at present that it can be unpredictable and terrifying.
If you try to run, they’d said, when they first cornered him, we’ll make you explode. Blood and guts and limbs hitting the walls and the pavement. I snap my fingers and you’re dead.
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The next time the cell door clangs open, Lux is back up on the bench, holding his wrist close and keeping his head down. He doesn’t pull away when footsteps draw near, or when his arm is grabbed so he can be pulled to his feet.
He’s unwanted, no one knows about the bail or will pay it - he’s at the mercy of these cops. It’s been a day, and he’s condemned to being a source of entertainment for them - surely, he’s going to be led someplace to be hurt, and humiliated, and punished for being a warlock, even though he’s done all he can to insist carefully, respectfully, anxiously, that he’s innocent.
“You made bail,” The cop guiding him says, and Lux blinks, looking up. He - someone - he did?
“I can go?” He asks, voice small.
“Yup. Now, if anyone asks. That wrist.”
“It was an accident,” Lux says quickly, as he’s led away from the holding cell and toward the front of the police station. “I remember. It was my fault, I tripped.”
“That’s right.” The cop leads him along - thankfully, by the arm that doesn’t ache from a broken wrist - until Lux sees more officers walking around and sitting at their desks. He makes himself smaller, avoiding eye contact as a few of them look over. Then, Lux sees someone that makes him smile nervously, makes him want to hurry forward to be held instead of feeling a cop’s fingers wrapped around his arm.
It’s Emory. Just Emory, standing at the front of the station, ready to take him home.
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