What Would You Do - Blog Posts

SoC situation

this is just a theory / situation. No hate

So what if Jordie lived, and what if he thought Kaz was dead and one fine day, he walks back into ketterdam and finds out his Lil dead bro is the BASTARD OF THE BARREL, Mafia bitch and goth emo kid. I mean, if I were him, I'd probably faint and die. Wut would u do ???

I miss cod grian

My partner told me bird grian started cos of how skilled he is at/how quickly he picked up flying the elytra

So I propose

Flying fish grian

Look at them

They're so pretty

Guys plz

Let him do it. But on these condition. He has to send pictures and narratives and no secret rendezvous. You get the full background before you approve anything. And every time he can do this only on your approval… your honey-dolist is ✅. You tell her it’s okay. No one is in the wonderment of anything going awry. You get the wet real fantasy of knowing he is plowing into another woman’s body with reckless abandon! You can invision the woman with every detail of your new favorite pornstar husband! Some very hot erotica awaits your life ahead!

If you can’t see this then tell him absolutely not you bring this up again we’re done!

Would you be okay with a hall pass?

So my husband and I had a conversation the other day that really irked me. We are long distance right now, and he made a joke about finding some other girl to fuck cuz he was horny. And I half-joked back and said he wouldn’t do it even if I gave him permission to. And this spiraled into a weird argument because he wouldn’t just admit that he wouldn’t have sex with a rando. Finally I got him to admit it, but his reason was that it would destroy me and I would never be able to forgive him for that. And it kinda hurt my feelings because I wanted him to say it because he loves me and doesn’t want anyone else. Idk. I’m just here to vent. But I would like input. What do you guys think?

I heard about what you did for that Klondike Bar, you should DM me.

Weee oc time

Color sketch of Sapphire Bloom

The walls are bleeding

My most recent short horror story.

Word count: 724

Trigger warning: Blood (who would have guessed)

It was just half an hour when it happened.

I had come to the decision that my house was in need of a rather intense cleanup.

Starting with the living room, I took out all the junk and other stuff and then started cleaning.

I glanced at the wallpaper, pained by how ugly it truly is without any of my stuff cluttering around it. This wallpaper had belonged to the previous owners, it hasn't been too long ago since I had moved in and I hadn't really taken the time to change it.

So what's a better time than now?

I walked towards one of the walls that was facing away from the windows, took a chair to stand on and placed my fingers over the paper's exterior.

It was a strange sensation, is this really paper? I thought to myself.

I hesitated.

Lowering my hands again and just stared for a moment.

Then other thoughts started to convince me to continue: This must be some kind of fancy wallpaper I don't know about. Fancy, but ugly, that explains the texture. I should remove it.

No, it needs to be removed!

Again I raised my hands and started by putting my fingers in between the wall and the wall at a place where it was already slightly loose.

Suddenly I noticed that I was touching something wet and sticky. Something of which I was certain that it couldn't be glue.

I swiftly retrieved my hand only to find the tips of my fingers to be soaked crimson red.

There's no doubt about it...

It's blood.

I immediately got down from the chair and ran towards the phone.

I need to call the police! Was the only thought running through my head.

Dialling the number, it luckily didn't take long for someone to pick up. I told them about the situation and that it was making me fear for my safety. I was told to wait by the door and open it for them.

A little later the doorbell finally rang, I felt a bit underwhelmed when I saw that they had sent just a single officer to check in on me.

Had they thought me mad?

"Good morning sir, Please show me what you found." He greeted me.

I took the man into my living room and showed him the spot.

"Good God..." He murmured.

He reached for his walkie-talkie and pressed a button.

"This is officer Green... Send to the bleeding house alert. I'm in need of backup. Over."

Some white noise left the small object, but nothing audible.

"This is officer Green. Does anyone copy. Over." He seemed to be slightly panicking.

Drip...

Drip...

I heard something coming down from upstairs and it didn't sound very good.

"Sir, I got to check something real quick." I said to the officer, though I don't believe he heard me at all. He seemed to be caught up in the buzzing of his communication device.

I ran up the stairs.

The dripping seemed to come from the bathroom.

Opening the door I found something horrifying.

Instead of water, blood was dripping out of the faucet.

Slowly filling up the tub with the dark coloured liquid.

I tried closing the faucet, but it only got worse.

Blood started pouring out.

I left again quickly, closing the door thoroughly behind me, trying to forget about what I had just seen and proceeded to my bedroom.

This wasn't in any way better.

I felt cold when I stepped into a lukewarm puddle of the sticky substance.

It was coming down from the walls, dripping, colouring and messing with all the furniture in it.

Entering the small hallway again, the walls had taken a colour of dark red as well.

Careful not to slip, I made my way back downstairs again.

"Sir, have you reached your colleagues yet?" I frantically ask the officer standing facing the wall quietly.

Something is wrong though.

Something about him seems so much different than how he was before.

The air around him...

In his hands he's holding a big piece of wallpaper and he's covered in blood.

Without looking my way, he starts talking.

"Perhaps this is its way of cleansing itself."

His voice sounds different too.

"What the hell do you mean?!"

"Usually when a wound is bleeding, it is in a way cleaning itself. The bigger the wound, the less chance of infection. The dirt will be washed away by the blood itself."

I feel anger and panic boiling up in my body: "Are you trying to say that I'm the cause of this?!"

For a moment there's silence, but then he shrugs.

"Nah, I wouldn't know that."