wetspec1men

Latest Posts by wetspec1men

Marble hornets but Jay is wearing this hat:

Rotating Sandwich Mood Board

Rotating Sandwich Mood Board

kawaii foods >:3 w faces >;3

i was looking for gifs of the animations of clippy from windows 98 and i couldn’t find any, so i made this ones! 

(part 1)

ps: i made the gifs, not the animations! the animations are from a youtube video i found, i just cut them and cropped them to fit, the only thing i added was the windows window!

this stamp makes me feel funny

Bandai Digirobo Tokima

Robot Watch 1998.

redroom day 13 kicking

going off of the "slenderman speaks through the proxies" thing from the seer because i liked it

Redroom day 11 bruise

Red room day 10 whip

Day 4 cut

Day#2 of my red room advent calendar (bondage)

day one of my red room advent calendar for goretober

this is really stupid but an evil spirit told me it would be funny

Just spit it out already

Ow

my oxygen

Surely nothing in the world ever felt better than [THIS]

Was suggested on instagram to write from Gage's POV and thinking about how I would ever write from someone who's been essentially dog lobotomized actually got me thinking so hard I started writing. The formatting of this one is a reading nightmare but the never ending run-on sentence tightly packed into one block of text feels the most appropriate to a dog's inner thoughts so… You have to suffer for the sake of art™️

cw: ableist and misogynistic language, PTSD, panic attack, murder, vomit, loss of humanity through being genetically spliced with a dog

Right now there is only [RUNNING] and [PANTING] and the wind whipping your face and twigs digging into your paw pads and snapping under your weight and the sweat tickling the inside of your thigh as it rolls down the expanse of your (ever) hairless leg. You almost want to throw your hands down into the decaying grass and leaves to propel your body further but (something) keeps you anchored to your bipedal ways, your body knows it was never made for sprinting on all four but your body was also bent once and could probably be bent further all the way to the other side transhumanised so far the evolutionary path to break all knowns nomenclature and classification and leap from (human) to [DOG] just as you do out of the shrubbery as soon as your hear [YOUR NAME], toes skidding into the overgrown lawn as you halt, tongue hanging out dumbly trying as you might to bring moisture back into your bone dry mouth. The useless instincts you (forecfully) have inherited work against you but thankfully [HE!!!] turns on the garden hose [HE!!] uses to bath you with and fresh water springs out, splattering everywhere against your open mouth. There used to be a better way to drink but you (forgot) how so you chew at the air trying to catch this pesky pesky water into your mouth while getting drenched, you were hot anyway, running so so hot from all the excess dopamine secreted by your happy happy dumb brain, so easily pleased.

Surely nothing in the world ever felt better than [THIS]; it’s the 100th time you thought this exact thing today not with words or inner monologue only pure unadulterated stabs at your mesocorticolimbic circuit, things are only [GOOD] or [BAD] not in terms of the morals (you lacked) but in terms of [PLEASURE] and [PAIN], so simple and so good like quenching your thirst and moving your limbs and eating and shitting and nerve endings being stimulated by a [GOOD SCRATCH] just like [HE] is doing right now immediately replacing the serotonin from the water [HE] just shut off, not having a care in the world for how greasy your (hair) feels or the way you wildly shake off to dry yourself or the fact that you are (not) a dog at all. You wouldn’t get any of it anyway because all you understand now is [ANGRY] and [SOFT] tone so as long as [HE] coos at (you) softly [HE] can say anything and (you) would happily (giggle) and [RUB YOUR HEAD] against his big calloused hands even if he was (talking shit). You were liberated against your (will) and you are too dumb to realize it, of course you are why would you ever stop and try to think when you can just march alongside [HIM] like [HE TAUGHT] [YOU]] like a good stupid fuckass (dog) getting all [EXCITED] because you realize [HE] is walking towards the [KITCHEN] which can only mean any and all (doubt) or [FEAR] that’s desperately trying to join each others can be [SILENCED] by a motherfucking spoonfull of [PEANUT BUTTER HOLY SHIT] sticky and salty and obstructing your airway momentarily but thank goodness you still know how to breath through your (nose) while you smack your (lips) desperately trying to (get away from the [DELICIOUS TREAT] clawing at the leathery cushion with your splitting nails nerve endings stimulated by [HURT HURT HURT FUCK what did you do why were you bad why is this happening to you this wasn’t supposed to happen you weren’t supposed to get caught in the first place but the [BITC H] squealed and slipped through your fingers and now you’re the one being [GUD LA DET SLUTTE VÆR SÅ SNILL] you should’ve made a bigger hole and (fucked it) so [BAD] no one will ever be able to identify your whore bitch corpse you r eally fucked up this time you can barely breathe through any hole now in out in out in out head heavy with the weight of ([HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS]) getting really really light so much so you don’t feel your (claws) slicing until the victim became unrecognizable aggravated [MASSACRE] of your (ultimate reality) now there’s only [DROOL] and a little bit of [VOMIT] and your clammy skin against the (cold old tiles) of the kitchen floor and [HIS] form above you [WARM] palm encircling almost your entire still trembling arm and (garbled speech) you can never [UNDERSTAND] again, it’s so [WARM] and (nice) your [TAIL] slaps the kitchen floor, beginning to unknot [HIS] brow as you can feel yourself (smiling) dumbly at [HIM]. And now there is only [PETTING] and [ROLLING ON THE FLOOR] with the sweet-acrid aroma of [PEANUT BUTTER] and [VOMIT] [HE] stops you from [LAPPING] just before your tongue touches it.

Surely nothing in the world ever felt better than [THIS].

gods greatest punishment was putting 1 trillion cool rocks on earth and no one with eyes big enough to see them all

[On the exploration of homo-sapiens' obsession with vaginal intercourse.]

A short drabble I wrote about Coeus' disappointing first time (bad enough not to try again for almost 20 years lol). It finishes a bit abruptly but I do like most of it enough to share.

cw: body dysmorphia, overly medical language, explicit description of bad sex, kinda cringe superiority complex

He squeezed his nearly non-existent breasts, nascent mounds looking almost out of place on a body stripped of every last gram of baby fat; sharp bones jutting from taut looking-skin as if it was simply pulled over the frame of his skeleton. No hips, no ass, only the ever so slight amount of fatty tissue under his navel could hint at the sex he was thrusted into; nature trying her best to shield what society deemed to be the fair gender’s most valuable asset. She had yet to lose against him then, his distaste for everything brought by a simple assessment at birth over some parts failling to migrate or develops not yet linked to his biology; the discomfort with having his pitiful chest fondled like this simply chalked up to a shame he didn’t really feel about their size. Surely, the gesture would feel less silly, less thoughtlessly pornographic had they been bigger, even though he had never wished so before despite being likened to an ironing board a few time as an attempt to rouse something -humor, or perhaps inferiority- out of the cold, flippant teenager who had joined the university. No worries, surely they’d come in, had they say as if to wash themselves of any eventual hurt they might have caused with this teasing remarks, as if it wasn’t the reason they were cast in the first place. To humble him, shoot this bratty little girl down a peg.

He hoped they didn’t. He had started bleeding long ago, though infrequently: surely his body would not go through a sudden spurt and finally give him the womanly figure expected of his chromosomes.

If it was going to, it hadn’t decided to kick in as he dipped his toes into his twenties, finding them no different from his adolescence save from a newfound curiosity that arose with older colleagues talking amongst them, looking almost startled when remembering his presence in the lab. Apologetic. Embarrassed. As if, despite his now long gangly limbs, he remained a teenage girl, not to be spoilt by crude topics; enough for a few to reject him, perhaps finding in the age difference a good excuse to avoid fucking the ugly chick. He was no stranger to the idea that he was far from the feminine ideal of beauty, with the beak-like nose standing in the middle of his gaunt face, framed by a wild, unbrushed mess of hair that had been seldom cut in his life. His older sister made sure he knew, admitting defeat early as he was, in her own words, a lost case. He had no hint of elegance, no wish to please and appease those around him and not even much interest in personal hygiene.

It’s also possible that his propositioning was at fault for the awkward refusals. Even the one who was attempting, still, to find something to grab on his chest, had shuddered at his request; not one of arousal, but more a full body cringe at the blunt, cold wording. In spite of the subject, there was nothing exciting in the language he had used, his nonchalance tasting more of ennui than of a casual, no fuss attitude towards sex: his virginity held no sex-appeal offered this way, not even with the burden of silly feelings that some men seemed so afraid might bloom behind his ribcage rendered null by the clear scientific curiosity itching to be relieved.

Perhaps men, even men of science, were more romantic than they thought. It seemed so in the way his partner for this experiment insisted kissing would help get in the mood, cheesily knitting his fingers in his before he inserted himself into him. Did his heart flutter when he reflexively squeezed his hand as his entire body fought the intrusion, hissing through teeth as he tried to do as he was told and relax in a shaky breath, assured that it would start feeling good soon in between whispers of how tight he was ? Oh he could feel it, painfully so, a startled sob managing to crawl it’s way out of his thinly pressed lips, his breath stolen by the pain tearing him in half. It was no lie that this had nothing to do with the scant fingers that had explored his insides before, finding a little discomfort at first too but easing in the strange if unfulfilling sensation, tentatively curling digits brushing a sensitive spot; the one he thought would bring him over the edge if only he didn’t have to split his focus on both his hands and the coiling feeling pooling into his guts. But it seemed like the appendage was ramming into him in all the wrong places, hitting the back of his cervix without ever grazing that spot. The more it went on, the more his mind tried wandering away from the pounding pain and the growing irritation of his tender flesh, sharpening his focus on every other detail. The squelching sound, the labored off-puttingly warm breath above him, the mingling of perspiration, uncomfortably wet skin on skin contact, the long strands of hair clinging everywhere trapped between his back and the rapidly moistening bedsheets, pulled ever so irritatingly with each thrust, that fucking hand still kneading the surplus of fatty tissue surrounding useless mammary glands and the rapidly cooling path of the tears that had spilled over, tickling his tragus, a mess of fluids and grunts and too many thoughts. He could not fathom that this was it, the thing that made society go round under all the pretense of virtue: even the pain had become a boring thud in the back on his mind, barely registered if not for the soreness of his clenched jaw.

He was spared putting an end to the experiment, something he had yet to ever do, the data put above all else, even suffering, even boredom, even disappointment. His volunteer stopped suddenly, quivery, a strange pitiful whine escaping him as his fingers dug into the pale skin of his breast, riding the very last wave of what must have been the famed big orgasm he was still waiting for; one that surely had to surpass any shaky climax he could ever bring himself to justify the rave around coitus. He was as relieved as he was confused to feel the offending member slip out of himself, condom ever so slightly stained pink quickly removed, tied and discarded into a tissue: that guy had always been a bit of a clean freak, even outside of the lab. He couldn’t understand how he justified the mess of bodily fluids integral to the act to his near germophobic obsession with cleanliness, so much so that when he laid back next to him, he couldn’t help his perplexity. “That’s it ?” was the offending statement, one that made the older man huff and lose his words for a minute, having not even regained his breath yet, before claiming that this was as good as it got, annoyance clearly souring his afterglow.

Despite this affirmation, the wound in his ego was deep enough for him to request a transfer almost as quickly as it took for the slightly bruised crescents to fade from his chest.

Proper scientific method would require more data before forming a conclusion, but he wasn’t keen on putting himself through this waste of time again; his leading hypothesis was that perhaps his higher intellect yet again barred him from finding enjoyment in something his lesser peers were infatuated with, his brain needing more stimulation than the average person and thus being better suited for quick relief to quench his needs when they arised. Perhaps his body was ill-shaped to accomodate for a phallus, a little mistake in his biological engineering, yet another natural rejection of his sex, born not to be penetrated or bear children but to pursue matters of the mind. Call it pelvic floor dysfunction or something else, he found no will to remedy his failing as a woman; if anything he leaned into it, getting rid of the puny, pointless breasts only a couple of year later, not regretting one second that they had been fondled by someone else only once, bar his surgeon’s much less displeasing palpation during his first appointment. The smooth expanse of his chest interrupted only by the still sore scar running across felt much less out of place, devoid of any superficial details. One step removed from the other mammals he failed to understand.

damn its this guy again

i was watching the dvd extras of season 1 and i instantly had to gif this idk how to tag this... soooooooo

the toun (2024)

Older now…

Extraction

if tim sutton has zero fans im DEAD.

4 am mspaint scribbles from the HELL i call my mind

saw someone do one similar and I had to post mine cus it’s so silly

OC

idk how to tag it and this is my original character in read dead world that's all :)!!!