Just sketching... Although I've spent most time building that face angle, which I hate and never truly get right, but for some reason I keep drawing it.
obsessed
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
art blog(derogatory)
d e v o n
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

oozey mess
hello vonnie

styofa doing anything
Misplaced Lens Cap

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
NASA
Cosimo Galluzzi
noise dept.

if i look back, i am lost
Game of Thrones Daily

seen from United States
seen from Finland

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Canada

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Japan

seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Hungary

seen from Australia
@whumpit
Just sketching... Although I've spent most time building that face angle, which I hate and never truly get right, but for some reason I keep drawing it.
obsessed

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Captive whumpee, left unrestrained for a moment, takes the time to remove their clothes and fold them neatly. They don't want to see them destroyed once whumper returns.
Scientific method by James Tadd Adcox
Shortcuts, by Emma Ivansson, 2021. embroidery and paint on cotton/polyester
welcome home, theo!
contents: slavery / human trafficking, cutting / blood as art medium, dehumanization, psychological manipulation, forced audience, defiant whumpee, reluctant caretaker, intimate whumper
chapter three of ARTHUR’S HOUSE! finally getting some proper whump here, especially if you like artistic whumper tropes. theo gets to see like, arthur's whole deal here, or at least a big part of it. and he sees the house for the first time! big big things happening in this chapter.
The house was quiet when they went inside, which Theo didn't expect. He expected....well. He didn't know what he expected. Some kind of staff, or like, armed guards walking around the expensive-looking hallways. Something to match the scale of the property, the long private road, the two hundred acres. But the front door opened into a hallway that smelled like linseed oil and old wood, decorated with expansive, sweeping paintings, landscapes and portraits that towered above the three figures standing in the hallway.
"Shoes off, please," Arthur said, stepping out of his own and lining them neatly against the wall. "Reuben, can you show Theo where he goes? I need to check something in the studio."
"The one across from Max's?" Reuben asked with a sigh. Clearly, he wasn't thrilled about the babysitting assignment.
"Hm, how about one room over, closer to mine? No reason to spread out so much. Show him, then give him a minute." Arthur was already moving down the hallway, his hand trailing along the wall like he was greeting it. He disappeared around a corner and his footsteps faded and the house absorbed him like he was part of it.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
theo, the car.
contents: slavery / human trafficking, psychological manipulation, restraints, implied past/future violence, referenced past abuse, mostly just talking in this one. chapter two of ARTHUR’S HOUSE. a lot of backstory/worldbuilding/high tension in this chapter - if you're more interested in just straight whump, you can jump to chapter three, which i'm posting at the same time.
They kept the handcuffs on him.
As soon as the transaction went through, the man who purchased him (Arthur, his brain was beginning to supply) went away and a handler swooped in to collect Theo from the platform he had been standing at for the last few hours. He clipped a lead to Theo's restraints and walked him through the auction hall like a dog on a leash, past the other platforms, past buyers getting drunker by the second and their potential purchases staring at him with wide and mostly dead eyes. The ones who did still have some feeling in their face look scared for him, or maybe just scared in general. Theo tried not to look.
They brought him to a holding area near the exit. Arthur was already there, talking to someone at a desk, signing things. Reuben stood behind him with his hands at his sides and his eyes on the floor.
Whumper is well-known, larger than life. Feared, admired, hated, but never merely a person. In public, they carry themselves with supreme confidence. Whumper has no known vulnerabilities, no known friends, and so, so many secrets.
But whumpee knows them. The secrets, the vulnerabilities. The moments in which whumper is frustrated or upset or happy and shows it. Whumpee knows the person behind the myth. And they know whumper craves to be known, to be understood.
That is why whumper will never let them leave alive.
Taking a break on the torture session to let your whumpee drink some water. Letting their body fall off the chains and into your arms, gently petting their hair as you take a bottle to their lips, tilting it ever so slightly so they can take small sips, shushing them and telling them not to worry, you are far from done
Ilya Rozanov + Episode 2 + Jenny Holzer's 'Inflammatory Essays'
Whumpee is in the process of planning their escape. They still have a couple details to go, but they've figured out the major stuff. All they need now is a little time and an opening.
For the first time in a long time, they're full of hope. Then Whumper comes up to them one day, all nonchalant, and says,
"It's not going to work, you know."
Whumpee freezes. They try to play it cool. "What are you talking about?"
"Your escape plan," Whumper says, as casually as if they were talking about the weather. "Slipping out like that just isn't going to work, I'm afraid."
Whumpee raises their brows in horror as Whumper starts listing all the detailed reasons why their plan is sure to fail. But how could Whumper know about Whumpee's plan? Whumpee never even said it aloud.
"Feel free to try it anyway," Whumper finally says, patting Whumpee on the shoulder. "But I won't be lenient when I catch you. Consider this a warning."

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
theo at first.
contents: slavery / human trafficking, dehumanization (being manhandled, inspected, sold), referenced past violence / war / implied future abuse.
hi i first wrote this story like four years ago, wrote one chapter then bailed. but i have been thinking about it since then and i have been inspired. anyway here is a new reworked chapter one of ARTHUR'S HOUSE which is a story about art and conducting intricate rituals to touch the skin of other men and what it's like to live in a haunted house. enjoy!
The auction house was clean, which was way, way worse than if it hadn't been.
For the better part of three years now, Theo McCarthy had been in dirty places. Filthy places. A field hospital that turned into a surrender point that turned into a processing camp that turned into the transport ship, the one that took him away forever, the one with its stacked cots and recycled air. The processing facility afterwards had felt unclean, too, even under all that 10% bleach and it's fluorescent, white-washed corridors and the paper gowns and staff who called him property. Dirty places, all of them, but the dirt had made sense. Dark and disgusting things were happening there, and he found a small comfort in the fact you could look at a concrete floor with a drain in it and know exactly what you were standing in.
But the auction house had marble floors. It had soft lighting and there was beautiful music playing from somewhere, something with strings, something classical, like this was a museum exhibit or a public event of some kind. Like the sixty-some people standing on numbered platforms in the main hall were not for sale.
Theo was number forty-one. He knew because the number was printed on a card and the card was clipped to his shirt, the same way you'd tag inventory at a warehouse. The shirt was new to him, they'd given him clean clothes this morning, made him shower, checked his teeth. A woman had rubbed something into his skin to make it look healthier and then stood back and assessed him the way his anatomy professors used to assess cadavers very clinical and consciously unconscious of the person this thing used to be.
thank you for the likes and reblogs they make me happy :) starting a taglist for it now if anyone wants in :)
whump is fun because you see a character and are like “i love you so much that i want to see you sobbing and covered in blood. i need you dying in a hospital bed. i need you cold, wet, and miserable. i love you and want you to suffer unimaginable horrors. then you can have a kiss on the head as a treat”
I have some emotions about a whumpee that is used to being used and objectified and consequently has very inappropriate reactions to other people showing interest in them after they're free of whumper like. just the dry "its because you want to fuck me, right ?" when someone is showing them kindness or treating them well.
bonus points for people being completely caught off guard by this reaction, maybe even disgusted, but seeing the dead look in whumpees eyes and not knowing how to respond.
evil dead 2 screencap painting for halloweeeen
“Whatever you say, Master (/s)” + Whumper
"Ah. Play nice, doll."
"Mm. Pretty mouth, ugly words. Let's get you gagged."
"Well, we've got time fix your tone."
"I thought I'd give you an easy day today, but apparently not."
"...One of these days, I'll break that jaw of yours. Tomorrow, if you keep this up."

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Daily Drabble #32
“I just want to sleep,” Whumpee begged weakly, “is that so much to ask?” They sat on the floor, barely able to keep themself propped up, feeble from both malnutrition and exhaustion. Their body was covered in bruises which Whumper found beautiful.
“Of course you can sleep,” whumper replied, “so long as you do so next to me.”
Whumpee looked up at them with tired eyes before giving a bow of their head in agreement. Whumper happily scooped them up, carrying them off to bed, laying down with the poor captive cradled in their arms. That was all that was needed to restrain them.
theo at first.
contents: slavery / human trafficking, dehumanization (being manhandled, inspected, sold), referenced past violence / war / implied future abuse.
hi i first wrote this story like four years ago, wrote one chapter then bailed. but i have been thinking about it since then and i have been inspired. anyway here is a new reworked chapter one of ARTHUR'S HOUSE which is a story about art and conducting intricate rituals to touch the skin of other men and what it's like to live in a haunted house. enjoy!
The auction house was clean, which was way, way worse than if it hadn't been.
For the better part of three years now, Theo McCarthy had been in dirty places. Filthy places. A field hospital that turned into a surrender point that turned into a processing camp that turned into the transport ship, the one that took him away forever, the one with its stacked cots and recycled air. The processing facility afterwards had felt unclean, too, even under all that 10% bleach and it's fluorescent, white-washed corridors and the paper gowns and staff who called him property. Dirty places, all of them, but the dirt had made sense. Dark and disgusting things were happening there, and he found a small comfort in the fact you could look at a concrete floor with a drain in it and know exactly what you were standing in.
But the auction house had marble floors. It had soft lighting and there was beautiful music playing from somewhere, something with strings, something classical, like this was a museum exhibit or a public event of some kind. Like the sixty-some people standing on numbered platforms in the main hall were not for sale.
Theo was number forty-one. He knew because the number was printed on a card and the card was clipped to his shirt, the same way you'd tag inventory at a warehouse. The shirt was new to him, they'd given him clean clothes this morning, made him shower, checked his teeth. A woman had rubbed something into his skin to make it look healthier and then stood back and assessed him the way his anatomy professors used to assess cadavers very clinical and consciously unconscious of the person this thing used to be.