#puppet tor

[cl0neisthinking]

Ermmm... hey, a remake of one my older art works!!! The oddities roleplay 😼

[torpublishinggroup]

Tor Publishing Group is BACK with a guide of books to gift the people in your life…and yourself!

For the friends who love a good scare all year round…

Bury Your Gays by Chuck Tingle

Evil in Me by Brom

━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━

Escape with fantastical folklore…

A Sorceress Comes to Call by T. Kingfisher

When Among Crows by Veronica Roth

Masquerade by O.O. Sangoyomi

━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━

Forbidden romance to keep you warm…

Swordcrossed by Freya Marske

The Stars Are Dying by Chloe C. Peñaranda

━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━

Beloved bestselling authors to add to your TBR… 

Wind and Truth by Brandon Sanderson

In the Lives of Puppets by TJ Klune

Starling House by Alix E. Harrow

Not enough books? Don’t worry, we have another GET BOOKT: THE BOOKENING guide to help you out!

[house-in-the-cerulean-sea]

WE'RE FUCKING BACK BABY!

[peppermintslol]

more oddities roleplay stuff

Some of these are based off of certain episodes

The episodes they’re based off of

[llamaificator]

SO SO SO SO

I have been getting back into this old Minecraft series called “The Oddities Roleplay” it’s the Roleplay with sister location and Springtrap sounds British and they are very funny

AND rREWATCHING AND REALZING HOW GAY PUPPET AND FUNTIME FOXY WERE

I’m not kidding either!!

On MULTIPLE occasions they claim to be married and Puppet has tried (and failed) to either make out with F.T. Foxy or get a kiss from him

THEY ARE LIKE AN OLD MARRIED COUPLE WHO ARE CONFUSED ABOUT THEIR FEELINGS EVEN THOUGH THEY’VE LIVED TOGETHER FOR 20 YEARS

NOW I DON’T FULLY SHIP F.T. FOXY N PUPPET!!! ONLY SHIP THEM IN THIS RP!!!

I HOPE THERE ISN’T ALREADY A SHIPNAME FOR THESE TWO IN THIS ROLEPLAY BUT I WANT TO PETITION THEIR SHIP NAME TO BE

MarriedRibbons/Marribons <3

OR

FunnyFlowers (bc Puppet has given F.T. Foxy flowers before)

also marriedribbons vid be upon ye

ALSO YES I AM AWARE THAT I MADE PUPPET HAVE A MIDDLE AGED MAN HAIRCUT I FELT LIKE IT LET ME LIVE

[failurepuppet]

now in color 👍

[gilliontidestrideronthebrain]

The joy of being the reason someone downloads Tumblr ❤️

[thebooky]

Screaming, crying, etc

[cherylmmbookblog]

#Blogtour In the Lives of Puppets by T.J. Klune

It’s a pleasure to take part in the Blogtour In the Lives of Puppets by T.J. Klune. ‘Inspired by Carlo Collodi’s The Adventures of Pinocchio, In the Lives of Puppets is a masterful standalone fantasy adventure from the author who brought you The House in the Cerulean Sea and Under the Whispering Door.’ About the Author TJ Klune is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling, Lambda Literary…

[quirkycatsfatstacks]

Review: In the Lives of Puppets by T.J. Klune

Author: T.J. KlunePublisher: Tor BooksReleased: April 25, 2023Received: Own Goodreads | More Fantasy Reviews Book Summary: Vic has spent his entire life in the woods – and the tree houses his father built. This has been the only world he’s ever known. His only companions are the bots he’s managed to salvage and repair, plus his father, of course. One day, Vic and his friends come across a…

[veebeeboo109]

"A Morning Workout"

{From Ch. 11 of "Cleaning Up the Timeline". After a less-than-peaceful sleepover, you wake up with Zayne and Sylus. Snowcrow is snowcrowing}

Word Count: 3.9k

Tags: Smut, MMF, Zayne x Sylus x You, Threesome, DP, Wear a condom kids, and practice safe-sex practices.

“Can you take the day off? Please?”

Your timid question has him turning back around, “Really? I– I don’t think I can.”

“A sick day? You never take a sick day. Just a day to relax. I think you need it.” You argue. 

“I’m on call. There isn’t anything scheduled but I should go anyway.” Zayne’s arguing with himself more than you at this point. Debating against the part of himself that likes his work, and the part that really likes you. 

If there was an award for best puppeteer in the house, it would go to Sylus. (That is until Rafayel woke up.) You felt Sylus wake up, rising into consciousness and wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you more securely. Sleepily, lazily, he presses kisses to your tummy, then to your sternum, and then to the exposed skin of your chest. Taking his time to drift slowly upwards until your attention is torn between the two men. One who is still debating leaving, and the other baiting the hook to dangle in front of him. 

“We could have a lazy day,” Sylus rumbles against you, and you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or Zayne. “Stay in bed all day.” 

“I have responsibilities.” Zayne stands when he speaks, sounding a little irritated by Sylus’ taunt. 

“Oh, I know.” Sylus is pushing himself onto his elbows and moving to pepper your neck with kisses, unable to resist letting his tongue lap at your skin. “So responsible, Dr. Zayne. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of our kitten while you work. Such good, good care.”

Your breathing is picking up, steamy little pants leaving your lips as Sylus punctuates his words with branding fingers dragging down your sides, hooking into your shorts and panties and taking his time to pull them down your legs. 

“Hear her?” Sylus sounds almost pitiful, “How can anybody leave such a sweet little thing like you? Oh, I could never, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll give you what you need.”

“Sylus.” You gasp as he flattens his hands on your legs and caresses upwards. You can feel your heartbeat get faster the closer his hands get to the mess of slick between your legs. Barely a touch and your sopping, clenching around the mere idea of more. The pound of your heartbeat pulsing in your core, a desperate wanton drum. 

“You’re incorrigible.” Zayne seethes. His tone is icy and disapproving, arms crossed across his chest. But if he meant it he’d be leaving. Turning away to get ready for work and all his responsibilities. But he doesn’t. Zayne doesn’t move a muscle, standing at the edge of the bed like he’s anchored there. “You’d have me quit my job if I let you.”

Sylus’ laugh vibrates the live wire inside you. A pluck against that too-tight harp string of desire. The white-haired man glances over at the other, and he smirks like the devil himself, “Now there’s an idea. What do you think, kitten? Do you think Zayne should quit his job to take care of you?”

You mewl as Sylus drags his fingers up your slit, any words evaporating against the white-hot fever of his touch. You're getting a little dizzy, and feeling a little lost. Sylus begins playing with you slowly, drawing out little breaths of saccharine pleasure in a sleepy, thoughtless way. 

But he’s never thoughtless, never sloppy. You’ll realize later it’s on purpose. The loose swipes of fingers that leave you half-mad. He’s missing on purpose, making you whine in frustration on purpose. Is it because he’s mean? No. It’s because it’s the final straw for your fair, high-strung doctor. 

Zayne moves with scalpel precision, kneeling on the bed and grabbing Sylus’ wrist with an offended huff, “You’re not doing it right.”

Sylus grins like a victor after a fight, all canine. “Am I? Show me then, doc-tor.”

Zayne throws Sylus’ hand aside and gives him a glare, “You move too fast. You can’t just jump into touching her like that. She needs more affection. Watch.”

The dark haired man moves to pull you upright, placing himself between your thighs and holding the sides of your face to bring you to him. He opens his mouth like he might ask for permission, but you're already closing the gap. Pressing your lips to his hungrily. He responds in kind, matching your rhythm. 

Zayne is so measured. So even. Like the soft untouched surface of freshly fallen snow, but it's only a cover. A thin lay of snow and ice revealing dark waters below. You could drown in them, You would drown in them. Get lost in that painful abyss that’s equal parts comfort and consumption. 

You feel loved in his arms. Like you might find forever in his kisses. His hands drift down your body and pull you closer, and you’re taking the initiative to grip at his sleep shirt and tug it upwards. 

He pulls away to let you pull it off him. And you're back to kissing him. Breaking away from him is to be without air, to be without warmth. 

Zayne gasps when you bite at his lip, and he’s pushing his hand into your hair to hold you more firmly. 

When Zayne pulls away, there’s a sinful string of saliva connecting you. The delicate web snapping as he draws you away from him with the hold on your hair. “There. That’s the right way, isn’t it? Tell him, love. Tell him you like it better that way.”

You gasp and nod, “I like– ah–” Zayne doesn’t let you finish because his fingers are between your legs, drawing circles around your clit and down to your fluttering hole. Never lingering too long on the sensitive nub– too much stimulation making your eyes flutter. 

Sylus is behind Zayne, pressing against his back and dragging his lips along the other man’s neck. “So good…Keep going. Show me how good you can make her feel.”

Zayne sits up a little, turning his head to the side and meeting Sylus’ gaze. “It seems like you need the practice, Sy~lus.” 

The way Zayne purrs Sylus’ name makes you clench and roll your hips against Zayne’s hand. It’s a sight that you want to imprint into your mind forever. These two beautiful, massive, dangerous men, turning their attention to you and their eyes shining with lust and affection. 

“Sylus likes to be in charge,” Zayne says to you with a smirk, “Have you ever noticed how much he likes to boss others around?”

You nod, moaning as Zayne presses one of his fingers inside you. He grunts at the resistance, and exhales through his teeth. His glazed eyes dropping down to watch the digit disappear inside you. “So tight, love. Can you even handle another?”

Your head spins with how quickly you nod, “Yes, ngh– Yes, I c-can take it. I can.”

Sylus growls from behind Zayne, “Don’t push her too hard. Don’t–”

“I’m not going to.” Zayne bites back, but pushes another finger inside you. You squeal at the slight stretch and roll your hips down onto him. 

“I want–” Sylus sounds a little breathless when he speaks, looking at Zayne like he’s waiting for permission, “I want to taste her again.”

“I heard you got plenty yesterday.” Zayne chastises coolly, staring at Sylus almost disapprovingly while he simultaneously finger fucks you into oblivion. “Maybe you should just watch.”

“N-no.” Sylus whines, and the sound of it shoots like an arrow through you. “Please, let me. Come on, kitten. You want me to lick you again, don’t you? Tell him. Tell Zayne you want me to.”

“No.” Zayne’s voice is an even command. He draws his fingers out of you and you mewl at the loss, but watch with rapt attention as he lifts his dewy digits up to Sylus, “This is what you get. You get what I give you. You’re already getting your way by me staying here. You want to taste? Then lick them clean.”

You nearly come just from his words, and feel the pool of slick beneath you grow as you watch Sylus obey without a second thought. He grabs Zayne’s wrist and pulls the fingers to his mouth, dragging his long tongue up the length of them and then drawing them into his mouth, sucking them so thoroughly the sound of it fills the room. 

  Zayne pulls his hand away. His expression is even but his cheeks and ears are red, the skin of his chest flushed a sweet strawberry blush. He’s clearly affected, twitching as Sylus claws at him to draw him into a kiss, sharing the taste of you between them.

“I’ll help you,” Sylus breathes as he pulls away, “Just let me touch her. I’ll be good, but just let me–”

Zayne snorts, “Go on then.”

With permission granted, Sylus crawls over to you, “Sweet girl, oh, you smell so good. You’re twitching with it, aren’t you? You need to be filled up. Tell me, can I kiss you, sweetheart? Can I take care of you?”

You reach out to pull him to you, as easy as guiding a paper boat across a pond. There’s no resistance to him as you pull him on top of you, drawing him into a sloppy kiss. “Yes.” You rasp against his lips, “Anything– ah. Anything, please.”

Sylus groans and grinds his clothed hips against you, “Anything? You can’t offer that to me, sweetheart. Or I’ll actually take it.”

You’re tired of waiting. Tired of touching and grinding and not enough. So, you take matters into your own hands, and push Sylus’ shoulders and twist him around. He’s too big to move unwillingly, but the way his eyes widen tells you he’s more than willing. He moves with the tiniest pressure of your hands onto his back, letting you straddle him and remove his shirt. He’s a puppeteer at the mercy of someone else’s strings, lifting his hips when you hook around the waistband of his pants and pull down. 

You’ve barely got the pants past the roundness of his ass before there are hands at your waist, squeezing you.

“Slow down.” Zayne whispers, “We have the whole day, don’t we?”

“Zayne…” You whine airly, “I don’t want to wait.”

“Neither does he.” Zayne says with a pointed glance to a panting Sylus. The white haired man’s hands are raised, as if to show Zayne he was innocent in this stripping game. Zayne chuckles softly and pulls you by the back of the neck to kiss you, and when he lets you go,  he mumbles against your lips, “Do you trust me, love?”

You nearly smack your forehead into his when you nod, and can’t help but kiss him once more. A light, soft kiss. 

“Use your mouth.” Zayne hisses into you, “And I’ll use mine.”

You’re not clear what he means but you don’t care. You’re back at the task at hand, grabbing the elastic band of Sylus’ briefs and pulling down, eager like opening a present. Too excited for the prize within to care about the wrapping. 

Sylus’ cock springs out, slapping obscenely against his stomach and he hisses through his teeth. There’s a magnetic pull to him, drawing into his aura like a moth to flame. The heat emanating from his skin is addictive, only magnified by the cool air coming from Zayne as he grabs handfuls of your hips and ass. Guiding you onto all fours in front of Sylus with your hips in the air. 

A long ragged moan leaves Sylus’ lips when you drag your tongue up his thick, monstrous cock. It’s large like the rest of him is– thick and weighty. Even as furiously hard as he is, the weight of it makes it droop against his bellybutton, twitching upwards. 

You wrap your hand around the girth of him at the base and lift it up to your lips. Kissing the tip before you press the head into your warm, wet mouth. Sylus’ hand is in your hair the instant you touch him, and his fingers tremble with the untempered desire to grip and hold. 

It’s a stretch. He barely fits into your mouth, and you nearly gag on more than one occasion, but the wrecked sounds he makes are more than enough motivation for you to press on. 

A sharp yelp shocks out of you when Zayne is at your cunt, licking a long stripe up the messy line of your sex. He’s slow and gentle, polite even as he licks at your clit and presses his tongue into you. 

A chain reaction occurs. Your squeal makes Sylus groan, gripping your hair tightly which makes your eyes cross. You’re pressing back into Zayne’s tongue without thought, only pure delirium. 

It takes effort to focus on Sylus’ cock, but he doesn’t seem to mind. When your mind starts to drip into syrupy pleasure and your movements become sloppy, Sylus seems to enjoy it. His breathing hitches and the grip on your hair tightens. 

“That’s it…” Sylus growls, beginning to guide your head up and down his length. You can feel his thundering heartbeat against your tongue. “G-gorgeous girl... So good for us. Right–ahh that’s it– Right where you belong.”

He’s stuttering through the pleasure, his hips starting to thrust up. Something in his face shifts. A curl to his upper lip that makes Zayne stop. Zayne is quick, pushing Sylus’ hand off your head and pulling you off with an arm around your chest. You gasp as you're physically removed from Sylus, a wanton whine escaping. 

Sylus chokes, caught right at the precipice of orgasm but caught off. A flash of anger crosses his eyes before sense returns to him.

“You come when I say you can.” Zayne says as he uses his hold on your waist to maneuver you. Moving you further up Sylus’ body until your chest to chest with the man. 

Zayne is kneeling behind you, his hands finding holds on the sides of your hips, and shifts you from side to side just because he can. He hums, a deep, pleased noise as he watches you and Sylus share the same breath. Both fucked out and dumb– higher functioning off and nothing but writhing, sensory beings. 

“So pretty.” Zayne coos, “Looking at you two…what a sight you make. Lean back for me, love. That’s it– press back into me.”

“You want Zayne to fuck you, sweetie?” Sylus whispers against your lips, swallowing the soft gasp you make. 

“Yes– ahn– please Zayne!” You shift back, presenting for him like a bitch in heat, “Please, please, please.”

Sylus is grinning against you as he watches over your shoulder. Zayne releases one side of your hips to hold his cock and line it up. The fat head catches on your entrance, and you keen as he slowly presses in. The stretch is sublime. Edging just on the edge of discomfort. 

Zayne is quiet– the softest hitch of his breath the only sign he’s feeling anything. But then Sylus is moving his hands to the soft globes of your ass and spreading them, pushing you back and further down onto the other man’s throbbing cock. 

A dewy moan leaves you, and Zayne chokes on the staggering sound that his chest makes. He’s only halfway in, and you’re breathlessly full, unsure whether you want to move away or further down. 

“G-god, you’re so tight. Oh. Oh, don’t move.” Zayne snaps, “I don’t want to hurt you, love, so don’t move for a second. F-fu-uuck…”

“You can handle it.” Sylus whispers in your ear, sounding nearly as wrecked as you feel, “Keep going. Take it all. Fuck, just like that. Take it. Take it. Take it.”

You’re clinging to Sylus as Zayne presses in, coaxed deeper and deeper by needy movements of your hips. Completely surrounded by the two of them and every sense is overwhelmed. 

Sylus swallows your cries as Zayne begins to move, slow and steady.

When Zayne finally bottoms out, he grips the curve of your waist almost too tightly, pulling you back ever firmer against him, but he’s already as deep as he can possibly get. His hips pressed against your ass, and his cock tucked snugly against your cervix. 

It’s almost painful, but it dissolves into feathery pleasure when Sylus kisses you through it, muttering sweet words of praise and moving his hand to rub little circles on your clit. 

Your orgasm is fast approaching and Zayne’s barely moved. 

“O-oh fuck!” You squeal, nails digging into Sylus’ shoulder, “More, please, more!”

Zayne pounds into you. Long, hard thrusts that make stars sparkle behind your eyes. The sinful squelch of your slick and the slap of his hips is a symphony. It’s hard, and it’s lovely, and it’s perfect. 

You’re unable to keep kissing Sylus, mouth open and gasping for breath. He’s smiling– a wild, feral smile.

And a horrible thought occurs to you. Horrible only for your self-preservation and your sanity, but so so good for that depraved whore inside you. 

“B-b-both.” You stutter out between breaths. Zayne slows down, giving you half a second to find your voice. “I want both. Both please.”

Zayne’s cock throbs inside you, pressing against that sensitive spot deep in your core that makes you clench. Sylus looks a little lost, his face slackening in rapt eagerness.

“You sure, sweetheart? You want me to fuck you too? Think I’ll fit in your pretty little pussy?” Sylus bites your lower lip and groans, “Oh sweetie, come here.”

Zayne groans, and moves with you, never pulling out as you shift down to lay against Sylus’ chest, your breasts pressed into his face which he wastes no time nipping at. 

“This isn’t–” Zayne hisses, “She needs more prep.”

“She’s so determined, Zayne.” Sylus argues, shifting to press the head of his cock to the stretched rim of your hole. The instant he adds pressure you’re sure it won’t fit, but Sylus’ eyes are glazing over and his jaw is falling open. Practically drooling. “Let her try. Let my sweet girl try. She’ll feel so good, won’t she? I want to be inside her with you.”

Zayne’s hips thrust forward of their own accord, the most ragged moan yet leaving his dry lips. Sylus is pressing in tightly, and the stretch is unreal. He’s barely got half the head in and you're sure you’ll split in two, but god what a way to go. What a perfect death. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whimper, “Oh god, it’s too much. Don’t stop. Ah! Don’t stop!”

“You’re mine, sweet girl. You’re ours.” Sylus snarls, hips pushing up into you, and the fat head of his cock slips in with a wet squelch. “Take us both. Take it so fucking  good for us.”

“Oh love,” Zayne’s back is pressed against yours, his voice in your ear and it's such a contrast to the depravity in Sylus’. “You feel so divine. You’re doing so well. So well. Yes. Yes, ngh.”

It’s ages before Sylus is all the way in, and there are tears shimmering down your face when he finally bottoms out. The two of them nestled within, swallowed by delicious friction. Divine death is the vice of your cunt and the slide of their cocks against each other. 

Zayne stays still while Sylus moves. There’s too much violent energy in the white haired man for him to stay still any longer. Long, slow thrusts and he’s barely half a dozen glides inside when you're clenching, vibrating on the precipice. 

“Oh fuck I’m gonna–” You choke, hips jerking and making the pair inside you groan in unison. “I’m gonna come. Please. Please, please. Oh god– you feel so good. Don’t leave. Don’t leave me please.”

“I’m not gonna last,” Zayne bites into your shoulder softly, “Come on, love. Come around us. Let me feel it. Yes, yes.”

“Not going anywhere, sweetheart. You just hold onto me. I’ll stay inside forever if you let me. Yeah, fuck. That’s it, come for me. Come for us.” Sylus’ fingertips dig into your flesh, and your mind is struck with the sudden feeling of loss. There’s a lack of digging. A lack of points at the tips of his fingers. Where did they go?

You’re coming before you can debate that odd sensation. Tipped over the edge into writhing oblivion and crying out. Gushing around their cocks and soaking the bed sheets below. 

Your peak is a trigger, firing off the other two in rapid succession. Zayne thrusts up once and then twice and you can feel the throb of him when he comes, pressing his face into any skin he can reach and panting for breath. 

Sylus snarls like an animal lurching forward to latch his mouth and teeth onto the junction of your shoulder as his cock jumps, slamming to the hilt inside you– slickened by the other man’s come leaking out. It’s filthy, and his teeth dig into your skin so sharply your vision blanks. 

They come down from their highs in different ways. Zayne slowly rolls his hips, relaxing like the unwinding of a tightened spring— easy and slow. Relishing in the afterglow and the slick heat of your pussy around him. 

Sylus is a serrated blade. Fucking up into you with sharp half-thrusts and pushing the mixture of their come deeper and deeper. He growls through it, keeping himself clawing into the sensations for as long as he possibly can. Breathing harshly and lapping his tongue against the bite mark he left behind. 

Your body protests any movement, and you’re not ready to let go of them just yet. So you let your head rest on Sylus’ shoulder and focus on the full feeling of them both inside you. How did that even happen? How did they both fit?

Zayne runs a hand up your spine. A gentle caress, “Shh, relax love. Let me–” He’s pulling out, and the drag has you keening, twitchy in aftershocks and then left horrifically empty. 

You turn to Sylus and he kisses you mushily, “I’m not going anywhere, kitten.” He whispers, “Let me stay for a minute, yeah? Let me feel you for just a bit longer.”

Zayne is gone and back but your mind is still filled with rose cotton. He’s got a water bottle in his hands that he presses to your lips. You drink a few swallows and then collapse back onto Sylus. 

“A lazy day, then?” Zayne asks with an affectionate shake of his head. 

Sylus’ laugh vibrates against you, “I’m feeling particularly lazy now.”

You giggle softly and shift to get more comfortable on top of Sylus, “I hope you don’t blame me if I slack off today, right Zayne? I’ll be sure to catch up on cleaning tomorrow.”

Zayne sits down next to you on the bed and brushes his hand through your hair, “Don’t worry about any of it. Perhaps we should revisit the contract again.”

You sigh and shake your head, “Not happening. I have a job to do, and I’m going to do it.”

“Even if I ask you nicely?” Zayne’s smirking when he teases you, and you reach up to poke his cheek. “We can talk about it later, if you ask me nicely.”

[cl0neisthinking]

This is SUPER old artwork that I'm honestly not proud of at all.. Should I redraw em? I might attempt to do the same style ish with the last two but I can't promise anything

[torpublishinggroup]

"Warning Signs Your Machines Are Trying to Kill You!" by TJ Klune

(Legally, I’m required to tell you that when smart phones first became popular, I bought one and then asked for the address of the app store because I thought it was a physical location I had to go to in order to download apps and not something already on your phone. Also, I was recently told I speak like an old person so as a warning, there will not be any slang you youths typically hear, especially on Tumblr. Any slang I’ve learned in the last five years has been against my will. I still don’t know what FOMO means, and I don’t care.)

1. Oh no! You and your family are trying to enjoy a movie night, but Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) wants a sacrifice at the altar of their god, BeeZos. Should this happen, do not attempt to give Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) a cantaloupe with googly-eyes on it and say that it is your baby. Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) knows the difference between fruit and children. Instead, ask the machine to order dog food, and it will forget about eating humans for a little while.

2. If you own a very fancy vehicle that can drive itself, always make sure to carry a brick. That way, when the car locks you inside and attempts to drive you off a cliff into a gas station, you can break the window using the brick. You will then have to jump out, but make sure you do so in time so you can watch the wicked-ass explosion when the car hits the gas station, and you can revel in your victory over your car.

3. This one will hurt. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Chances are, you’re reading this on your phone right this second. To be safe, after you’ve finished reading this post and have clicked on the affiliated links to purchase my books, you should throw your phone into a volcano and then move to South Dakota where there are no machines, only wind and cows. That way, when everyone else gets the 5GZombieVirus that people on Twitter (I’m not calling it the other thing, shut up) seem to think is real, you’ll be safe with your cows on a windy day.

4. Get rid of your air fryer. Don’t ask me why, just do it. Red flags all around. Danger, danger.

5. Do you know of the Clapper? That thing first launched in the late 20th century (I wrote it that way to make me feel old) where the commercials showed cranky old people unable to reach their light switches, so they got a thing called a Clapper that turns your lights on and off when you clap? Guess what? Those will be the first things to try and kill you. If you love your gram-gram, save her from the Clapper. When she asks why you are destroying it with an ax, tell gram-gram it’s because you love her.

6. Do you live in a smart home? The kind where everything is connected to the internet, including your refrigerator? The refrigerator that holds your perishable foods? And oh, would you look at that: how many ice cubes have you kicked under it rather than picking them up when they fall to the floor? A dozen? A million? The refrigerator remembers. And it will spoil your food in seconds. What then? What are you going to eat? Canned food? Not if the refrigerator falls on top of you!

Unfortunately for you, this is where it must end. I hope this has given you enough information to help you survive the inevitable. If you do not heed my warnings, well. Who cares. I’m not in charge of you. Do whatever you want. Just don’t come complaining to me when gram-gram gets the clap.

[fangirloverlode]

If anyone’s curious, according to the official Alan Wake survival guide, the ages of every character in the first game (as of 2010) are as follows (under the cut):

Alan— 31

Alice— 30

Barry— 29

Mott— 40

Rose— 21

Cynthia— 64

Barbara— 68 (I guess like… the body the dark presence is puppeting)

Sarah Breaker— 28

Nightingale— 43

Hartman— 55

Tor & Odin— 72 & 70

Birch— 42

Sinclair— 32

Emerson— 31

Rudolf Lane— 55

Wendy Desloe (lady who’s humming in Hartman’s clinic)— 47

Stucky— 52

Clay Steward— 33

Doc Nelson— 65

Mr. Randolph— 41

Deputy Grant (blonde woman behind the desk at the sheriff’s station)— 45

Mulligan— 45

Thornton— 31

Pat Maine— 68

Rusty— 36

Walt Snyder— 42

[peppermintslol]

no digital art so here’s some TOR fanart

close ups

[screams-in-writing]

oops my hands slipped

what do you mean I’m obsessed over this man? I have no idea what you could possibly mean I think I like him…a normal amount. :)

A lazy day off would have been the same old, same old, had you not met a certain someone several months ago. A certain someone who appeared to have gotten it into mind that these days off were for the two of you to dote upon one another, not run errands.  

That certain someone sure did love having your full undivided attention on him; delighted in every second of it, come to think of it. The novelty of being in the company of someone who wanted to be there. And when his mind wasn’t on his never-ending quest for high-ratings and whatever else he had planned (that he had yet to reveal), he showered that attention back on you with an intensity that bordered on almost alarming.

Mr. Puzzles was quite an intense individual when he was focused.

Which was why you were currently stuck in bed in your pajamas at ten in the morning, the man alongside you clearly requiring attention from the way he’d been curled up around you from behind for hours and hours.

For the time being, he was quite content to use you as a body pillow while he hummed some new song he wanted to implement into some future show. It was a novelty to Mr. Puzzles to be integrated into a team, after being on his own tor so long trying to do everting himself. It was slow going to convince him it’d turn out well; at the very least, he hadn’t dragged anyone into the world he held within his head for…at least a month, if that. He could be very passionate if an idea grasped him in the moment.

The static currently emanating from Mr. Puzzles’ face was a nice, warm and ticklish sensation to you; likely why he’d craned down to press the screen to the nape of your neck after avoiding the hair this past hour.

Muffled laughter sounded over the squirm of surprise from you when his arms gently squeezed tighter around your middle.

There came a light, heavy two to the side of your neck.

Then again, slower this time.

Nuzzling was awkward but somehow, the man with a tv for a head was able to make it work, somehow managing to be even closer to you as he pressed in to firmly rub his screen into neck and occasionally, shoulder, through fabric.

A cheerful morning news show clip briefly played in response to you asking him if he was awake and not just laughing in his sleep with automated laughs.

Tease. 

With a wriggle backward, Mr. Puzzles reluctantly loosened his arms from around you to allow you to turn over in arms. From the expectant expression displayed on the screen tilted down toward you right now, Mr. Puzzles had an idea of what you wanted. 

After receiving silent consent in the form of leaning his body, and in turn, his tv head closer, you reached up to lightly trace fingers along his screen. The light touch made Mr. Puzzles’ face and multi-colored smile switch briefly into static gray and white fuzz before a pleased expression popped up with a great big doofy grin that hid the, as you liked to call it, ‘crazy unhinged madman that trapped people like puppets in his head’.

It was a work in progress, that.

No, you did not want Mr. Puzzles to trap your coworkers in the world inside the tv he held sway over, even if you couldn’t help but laugh at the antics initially as well as the absurdity of it being possible (right along with a man who had a tv for a head). Right before scolding the man and making him reluctantly relinquish the unwilling participants aka a small number of your coworkers.

Currently, Mr. Puzzles face sagged into your touch, hands bracing on either side of your shoulders to loom over you without falling over. A quick, sneaky turn of one of the dials on the left side of his head made him jerk his body to the side and back. But then with a sly look, indulged you by briefly playing some cheesy romcom on the screen before Mr. Puzzles’ made his move when one of your hands went to shoulder. 

Gently, carefully, he leaned his lanky body over so his screen could press to your face, making you close you eyes to enjoy the odd sensation of electrical currents and fuzzy static as a teasing voice spoke from the speaker of the tv.

“I see you, my newest star actor, quite close up. Have you anything to say to your…riveted watcher?”

“Your watcher of one for the morning?” Blindly reaching up, you turned the screen down a tad and planted a big ole kiss on the dumbass’ screen with an overdone ‘mwah’ sound. “How’s that for an answer, Mr. Host of one?”

Static sparked out the top of Mr. Puzzles’ antenna and the sides of his screen. His tv head briefly jerked back, revealed a slightly unhinged, if very intense look fixed directly on you.

“Quite the compliment, I’d say.” Mr. Puzzles purred, tone a little deeper as static overlapped his voice, digital eyes intent on you. “Would you care to do a repeat performance? To see if it was truly a 5-star rating for my show of one?”

You dragged this smug asshole man down by the shoulders to pepper his screen face in kisses while he mock-defended himself with dramatic flair. Then, all at once, Mr. Puzzles rolled the two of you over on the bed so you could sprawl yourself comfortably on top of him, playing with the collar of his dress shirt as he similarly fidgeted with your hair.

“Are you quite certain you don’t want to be my co-host?” Mr. Puzzles prodded with a wide screen across the screen.

“You asked me that already.” You pointed out, a faint shudder rolling through you as Mr. Puzzles leaned up to rest the side of his boxy tv head against your own to whisper smoothly, lowly, conspiringly.

“Until you give me a direct answer, my dear.”