#Yeah the texture is crunchy

[whatawhim]

Gemma aged up into a child! Her new trait is Loner.

[sciderman]

[moinsbienquekaworu]

Bedtime but oh how I wish I had coherent thoughts about. Amaris.

[halfbaked00q]

ngl. I want a Dom Q flavor that is like. a bit of a sadist. like maybe not necessarily a looot of a sadist. but like at least a bit of one. I want him to like. rly bully Bond. and not just in a cute way. like in a genuinely sadistic for his own haha sickos personal, gleeful pleasure kind of way.

this can include for example things like, playing with Bond (handling dick, tweaking his nipples, continuing to finger him or fuck him) after he's come and while he's like still sensitive and like getting into the overstimulated territory about it. also lmao. ...habe to admit. I found many of @/doll-tamer's posts very like. "ooh what if this for a specific flavor of Dom Q & sub Bond 👀👀👀... 👁👅👁." some examples that uhhh yeah I do gotta admit had me thinking... quite a few thots... (some of them are wow that would be gr8 to see... I want all of this but 00q.... and lowkey a couple are me going "....yea this is kind of Bond-core...." or like this is the-flavor-of-Dom-Q-Im-going-for-here-core....)

to be fair to me tho!!!!!!! I know Im not the only one cuz some of these DO in fact bear similarities to things I have seen in fic!!! So yes this is about me and myyy haha sickos personal tastes. But also I Know it also is Our tastes!!!

But also I want this specific flavorr and also.. if I could get like five more of these little blonde bitches dot meme.........

[skitskatdacat63]

Those slime scooping videos on tiktok are getting to me.....

[mechahero]

//flops on the ground. i finally unlocked room overlay #1. so here's some pics of the updated room! (updated in the sense that there's actual wallpaper and carpet now!)

[squeiky]

okay but as a kid who had medicine's I considered "sweet" (probably why I like bitter things now) Let me tell you- I think I was TOO excited to be taking drugs.

I think medicine should STAY bitter thank you very much.

[milo-is-rambling]

God I’m soooo cool and sexy (got new frozen meals to try from the same brand my frozen Alfredo ones are from (new things such as. Mac and cheese. And chicken nuggets.) ARFID GOT NOTHING ON ME 💪💪💪💪💪

[bearisweet]

i grew up being a picky eater & being autistic so i avoided lots of foods. and i recently discovered the wonders of pasta salad. like hell yeahhhh baby. it's good!!! unlocked new thing to make for myself constantly

[kittysylus]

⋆˚࿔ Lover boy 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

-the LaDS men as your high school boyfriends

୨ৎ── . Zayne

“You’re wrong.”

Zanye sighed, already rubbing his temples. “I’m not wrong.”

“Yes, you are,” you insisted, crossing your arms and staring up at him with that stubborn gleam in your eyes—the one that meant you were ready to argue about the dumbest thing just to get a rise out of him. “Pancakes and waffles are not the same thing.”

Zayne exhaled sharply. “I never said they were the same. I said they’re basically similar because they’re both made of batter.”

“Yeah, and that’s wrong. They have different textures, different purposes, different souls, Zayne.”

Zayne rolled his eyes. “Souls? Are you seriously telling me a pancake has a soul?”

“Yes! Pancakes are soft and fluffy, comforting. Waffles are crunchy, mischievous. Chaotic.”

Zayne stared at you. “Chaotic?”

“Absolutely,” you said, completely serious. “You never know how much syrup a waffle is gonna trap. One bite could be perfect. The next? Syrup explosion. You never have that problem with pancakes.”

Zayne opened his mouth, then closed it, exhaling again. “Love, it’s breakfast food.”

“It’s philosophy,” you shot back.

Zayne sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I literally don’t care.”

You smirked. “Because you know I’m right.”

Zayne groaned. “Oh my God—”

“You just hate that I’m always right—”

He kissed you.

Mid-sentence, mid-argument, Zayne just leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, successfully shutting you up.

For a moment, you forgot what you two were even talking about. His lips were warm, slow but firm, the kind of kiss that stole all your thoughts and left you completely dazed.

When he pulled away, he smirked. “There. Finally quiet.”

You blinked, processing what just happened. Then—

“…Okay, but that still doesn’t change the fact that you’re wrong—”

Zayne groaned loudly, dropping his head against your shoulder while you laughed at his suffering.

“Why am I even dating you?” he mumbled against your sweater.

You grinned, running your fingers through his hair. “Because I’m adorable and you love me.”

Zayne just sighed, knowing there was no winning against you.

And, honestly? He didn’t mind losing.

୨ৎ── . Xavier

You sat cross-legged on the library floor, flipping through your notes while absentmindedly reapplying your chapstick. You swiped the balm over your lips, pressing them together to make sure it spread evenly. The soft scent of strawberries filled the air, mixing with the faint smell of old books.

When you glanced up, you caught Xavier staring at you, his head propped up on one hand, his book long forgotten. His light eyes were locked onto your lips, and you could practically see the thoughts running through his head.

You smirked. “You want some?”

Xavier blinked, snapped out of his trance. “…Huh?”

“Chapstick.” You held up the small tube and wiggled it between your fingers. “You keep licking your lips like you want some.”

Xavier scoffed, straightening up. “I was not—”

Before he could finish, you leaned in, cupped his face, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

Xavier froze. His brain? Completely short-circuited.

You pulled back with a smug smile, pleased with his dazed expression. “There. Now you have some.”

Xavier just blinked at you, lips slightly parted, as if trying to process what just happened.

You giggled and casually reapplied more chapstick, watching his face for a reaction. His eyes flickered from your lips to the lip balm and back to your lips again, like he was having an internal battle.

“…That’s cheating,” he finally muttered.

You grinned. “Oh? You wanted more?”

Xavier huffed, but his ears were red.

Feeling mischievous, you reached into your bag and pulled out a handful of different chapsticks. “Alright, since you’re so interested in my lip balm, let’s play a game.”

Xavier raised an eyebrow. “What kind of game?”

“Guess the flavor.” You held up a random tube. “I’ll put it on, you kiss me, and you try to guess what flavor it is.”

Xavier exhaled a laugh, shaking his head. “That’s just an excuse for you to kiss me.”

You feigned innocence. “What? Noooo. This is serious scientific research.”

Xavier rolled his eyes but leaned in, resting his chin on his hand. “Alright, hit me with your best shot.”

You quickly applied a new flavor and puckered your lips. “Okay, guess.”

Xavier leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a slow, deliberate kiss before pulling back just enough to murmur, “Mmm… vanilla?”

You gasped. “Ding ding ding! Correct!”

Xavier smirked. “Told you, I’m a pro.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s see how good you really are.”

The game continued, with you applying a new flavor each time and Xavier taking his time thoroughly testing each one. It was all fun and games until Xavier, now looking way too smug, whispered, “You’re just doing this so I keep kissing you, aren’t you?”

You, whose plan had completely backfired because now you were the one getting flustered, huffed and tossed a chapstick at him.

“Shut up and guess the next one.”

୨ৎ── . Caleb

You barely had time to react before it happened.

One second, you were walking down the school hallway, minding your own business. The next, you were tackled.

Well, not tackled exactly—but a solid weight suddenly latched onto you, nearly knocking you off balance. Arms wrapped around your waist from behind, and a familiar menace buried his face in your shoulder.

“Caleb!” you yelped, struggling slightly. “What the hell—get off!”

“No,” came his muffled reply.

You groaned, prying at his arms. “Why are you clinging to me like a damn koala?”

“Because I missed you,” he whined dramatically.

“…You saw me two hours ago.” you blinked.

“Two agonizingly long hours.”

You snorted, trying to push him off again, but Caleb only tightened his grip. A few passing students threw amused glances their way, but you had long since given up on trying to salvage your dignity around your boyfriend.

“You’re so needy today,” you muttered, exasperated.

“Wrong.” Caleb lifted his head slightly, smirking against your skin. “I’m always needy.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth creeping up your cheeks betrayed you. “Alright, pretty boy, let me go. I have class.”

“No.”

“Caleb—”

“Give me a kiss first.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You literally ambushed me in the hallway, and you still want a kiss?”

“Uh-huh.” He gave you his best puppy-dog eyes. “C’mon, baby, please?”

You sighed dramatically before grabbing his face and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

The moment you pulled back, Caleb hummed, looking smug. “Another.”

“Oh my god.” You shoved him away. “Go bother someone else.”

“Impossible,” Caleb called after you as you walked off. “No one else is as cute as you.”

You didn’t turn around, but you definitely heard the girls nearby squeal at his words.

And judging by the stupidly proud grin you knew was on his face, that was exactly what he wanted.

୨ৎ── . Rafayel

You barely had time to grab breakfast that morning, let alone do your hair. So now, as you plopped down next to Rafayel in the schoolyard, you dumped all your hair essentials on his lap with zero warning.

Rafayel raised an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to be helping with this?"

"Obviously," you said, already gathering your hair into sections. "You have steady hands, you can at least hold a braid while I work on the rest."

Rafayel sighed but didn't argue. He held the braid you made as you worked on another, watching your nimble fingers move effortlessly. You were quick, practiced, and somehow managed to make it look effortless even without a mirror.

At some point, you passed him a brush. "Here. Try braiding this side."

Rafayel blinked. "Me?"

You smirked. "Scared?"

He scoffed, rolling up his sleeves. "Obviously not."

He was confident… until he actually started trying. Braiding was way harder than it looked. His fingers fumbled as he tried to copy your movements, but the strands kept slipping apart. You, watching out of the corner of her eye, started giggling.

"Stop laughing," Rafayel muttered, narrowing his eyes at his mess of a braid.

"I'm not laughing," you said, clearly laughing.

Rafayel gave up with a sigh. "Okay, fine. You're a hair-braiding genius. I'll stick to holding things."

You grinned in victory before reaching into your bag for a mirror. But instead of holding it yourself, you handed it to Rafayel. "Here. Be useful."

Rafayel rolled his eyes but held up the mirror as you added the final touches—clipping in colorful little pins and adjusting the braids into a cute, messy bun.

Then you looked at your reflection, tilting your head. "Not bad for a rushed job, right?"

Rafayel didn't answer.

Because he was gone. Utterly and completely gone.

You were adorable. No—beyond adorable. The little pops of color in your hair, the loose strands framing your face, the look of satisfaction in your eyes—he could die right now and be fine.

You finally glanced at him through the mirror. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Rafayel barely processed the question. "You're—” he stopped, exhaled, then said it with his whole chest—"the cutest thing in the entire world."

You blinked, then rolled your eyes with a laugh. “You’re so dramatic.”

“No, I’m serious.” He put down the mirror and grabbed your face between his hands. “I think my heart just exploded.”

“Oh my god, stop.” You tried to pry his hands off, but he just squeezed your cheeks.

“I will never stop,” Rafayel declared. “Not when you look this cute.”

You groaned, smacking his arm. “Just say you want a kiss and go.”

Rafayel grinned. “I do want a kiss.”

You huffed, but the way your lips twitched upward gave you away. Finally, you leaned in and pressed a quick, warm kiss to his lips before pulling back with a smirk.

“There. Now shut up.”

Rafayel leaned in again, resting his forehead against hers. "Never.”

୨ৎ── . Sylus

Sylus had weaknesses.

Plenty, actually.

He liked to act all tough, like nothing fazed him, but when it came to you? That was a different story. You had too much power over him, and the worst part? You knew it and you used it against him.

Like right now.

You were sitting outside in the schoolyard with him, scrolling through your phone while absentmindedly playing with his fingers. Sylus was definitely not paying attention to his own phone—because how could he, when yous was right there, looking so effortlessly pretty under the afternoon sun?

Then, sighing dramatically, you tilted your head toward him.

“Lover boy,” you hummed, voice laced with teasing affection, “can you buy me a drink?”

Oh, hell.

Sylus was gone.

You could’ve just asked normally. You could’ve commanded him, like you usually did, and he still would’ve gotten up without question. But no—you had to weaponize those two words.

Lover boy.

His brain short-circuited.

He felt it the second his heart stumbled in his chest, the heat creeping up his neck. Sylus fought to keep his cool, but you knew. He could see it in your smug little smile, the way you squeezed his hand just slightly, testing his reaction.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he muttered.

You blinked, all innocent. “Doing what?”

Sylus squinted at you, leaning in closer. “You know what.”

You giggled, and damn it, you were just so cute, it hurt.

“So… does that mean you’ll get me a drink?” you asked sweetly, tilting your head.

Sylus groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “You could ask me to buy the entire vending machine, and I’d probably do it.”

“Good to know.” you grinned.

He sighed in defeat, standing up. “What do you want?”

“Surprise me, lover boy.”

Sylus literally stumbled at that, and you just cackled.

God help him. He was so pathetically in love.

[clover-the-awesomest]

Me when anyone else makes mac and cheese:

a comm1ss1on for @i-dont-care-enna of her lovely OC Shizua and mikey!

she cant cook

[autisticfaun420]

Autism and Fecal Smearing

I want to get this out of the way first so I'm just gonna say it, I struggle with this awful habit which is called diaper digging and fecal smearing, this post (and blog for that matter) I don't want to shy away from talking about this stuff. So yeah if I have a bowel accident, am frustrated/overstimulated/angry/sad, and am left alone for a few minutes I tend to do this. It's not as bad as before because I have preventative measures in place, like special onesies that make it so I can't remove my diaper myself (ughhh whatever...) and crunchy scented textured slime that my mom will add even more scent to just to make it overwhelming. The average number of episodes has been greatly reduced but I had one a couple weeks ago when my onesies were in the watch so the topic is fresh on my mind.

A lot of caregivers and autism parents are mystified and baffled by this habit and wonder why we do it. I can't speak for everyone, only myself, but to me personally the scent and texture of feces is so overwhelming and strong that I get a "high" from it. I take cannabis edibles daily and my parents let me get drunk once a month so I'll say its very comparable. I get a rush from it. My life can be so monotonous sometimes that smearing crap feels like getting away with a bank robbery, I go from extremely angry to feeling before then to like a happy giddy kid without a care in the world. I zone out so hard that I end up smearing it all over my face, walls, floor, and if it gets in my mouth I'm usually too far gone to care. I do not do it because I'm mad at my parents, I do not do it because I want to get back at them for something, I simply do it because my need for sensory input is so strong and when I'm about to go into a potentially violent meltdown I reach for the sensory nuke when my normal things to stim with just won't cut it. No high is complete without the crash and there's a crash. Seeing my parents and one of my unlucky friends SOOOOOOO unreasonably mad, it's terrifying. My parents got used to it and eventually just shrugged it off but I have heard them lose their cool over it several times and have heard my name and every cuss word in the book the room over where they clean. Not nice of them but I do not blame them one bit but the feeling inside hearing that is very real for me. I guess they got too good at shrugging it off. I had an incident where I smeared in the bathroom of one of my high school friends, very chill guy, look at me and scream at the top of my lungs, and punched a hole in the wall in the living room. I didn't know the painting he had in his bathroom was that rare but I ruined it completely and that's why he reacted that way. He could of done better but I do not blame him one bit. After that though seeing a side of that friend that I never seen before scared me into wearing the stupid onesie suit every day without fuss or a fight when before I would. Not only the suit but I have the replacement slime on me at all times, if I have a BM I tend to just pull it out and play with it. This doubles up as subtly letting my parents know I need a change, which I like cause I don't have to ask verbally which can feel kinda degrading sometimes. There is one good thing that has happened with this though. My hippie parents looked at my turd stained walls and thought I had some latent artistic talent and needed self expression and bought me art and painting supplies. They were misguided, it didn't prevent any incidents but I still took the art well. My therapist at the time had some art connections and the art I made was featured in what's known as an "outsider art" gallery. I sold a few pieces for 300-600 each. It's just a little bit bitter sweet cause if you've seen the King of the Hill episode about the Probots or just know a bit about outsider art in general, you'd know the way they market it is kind of, problematic to say the least. The gallery's artist profile for me made me out to be some kind of idiot dunce and made my parents look like heroic geniuses for spotting this talent or some shit and it's embarrassing that my artwork sold most likely cause of that over the strength of the art. Like oh wow look at this stupid R word who plays with poop his cool parents are soo smart, ughhhh. However I guess that's just the art game and I'm super proud of myself I made a couple thousand dollars of MY OWN money, it meant the world to me to have it. I'm not allowed to post my artwork on here and I wish I could share it with you on MY terms and not the gallery's but my parents are worried it could come back to my identity.

I want to end this post by saying if you engage in fecal smearing you are not stupid, broken, or filthy. You are a human being desperate for relief and you took the fastest way to get it. Shout out to all my autistic homies who smear or have smeared, I see you and you are loved.

[sunnyknight-original]

GIVE ME JUST A LITTLE BIT OF SYMPATHY.

BIG experimenting with this one, I had a lot of fun, definitely gonna use this brush again especially for crunchy rendering/texture things

Keep Reading for more context behind the drawing!

sooo✨ this whole thing came from the question of…. Why didn’t Caine hear Pomni SHOUTING for him in the pilot?? like shouldn’t there be a feature in the circus for that? Well, what if there WAS and Caine removed it for whatever reason.

I have a few reasons in mind, a few that are ALL true in this piece cause I couldn’t pick just one 😭

Either, the feature was abused, and he went all “this is why y’all can’t have nice things”

Or, he decides he’s not something to be ordered around (bro pulled cut the strings to make them ring)

OR, the feature was abused, PT 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO and he cut off that function, less of an act of defiance, but more in desperation, like he couldn’t take it anymore

EITHER WAY! I love this piece a lot, I love this song a lot, thought it fit this vibe no matter what reason he had, I think its very believable that he cut off that function canonically, but for the life of me I can’t think of a “canon” reason WHY he would, so yeah, again, all of the ones I listed above are fair game. GIMME YOUR OWN THEORIES IF YOU HAVE EM, PRETTY PLEASE

I love this man and his quest of deciding if he’s sentient or just a slave to his code…*dreamy sigh*

THAT ANIMATIC (that ive been posting about on my shitpost account) IS STILL HAPPENING BTW IM JUST TAKING A REST!!!☝️☝️☝️

NOW TAKE THIS SPEEDPAINT AND GO IN PEACE!!!

[unbearableblog]

Can you imagine Carmen laughing at the reader not knowing something because he is in love with her and finds it cute and offends her without meaning to?

“What?! Crunchy food makes us think it tastes better?” You exclaimed, standing in the kitchen with your phone in your hand after looking up recipes for you to use together.

Carmen paused.

“Yeah, baby. Texture means freshness and quality. That’s why so many dishes have an element of crispiness,” he explained as if it was something so common, so basic like first grade math.

“Oh…” you start going through different meals in your head and slowly realise that it actually makes sense.

“Are you… being serious?” He chuckles.

You furrow you eyebrows, taken aback. “Yeah…“. Obviously.

“How can you not know this?” Oh, he is soo amused by this, look at him smile, like a fucking Cheshire cat, ear to ear. What’s so funny about that?

“You know, I was never trained as a chef,” you say bitterly.

He laughs. He is so fucking smug.

You roll you eyes and pull him roughly to you by the hoops of his jeans. Your fingers swiftly move to the buckle and a cling is heard as you start undoing his belt.

“What are you doing?” he is still laughing at you.

“Maybe this way you’ll shut up”.

[thydungeongal]

any idea why (from a culture-history perspective) rules-light artsy stuff and osr-y dungeoncrawl stuff takes up so much discursive space in indie ttrpg talk? excepting LANCER there does not seem to be room for fans of high-power crunchy tactical combat in the indie space

This is not entirely true because there are a couple of other beloved crunchy tactical combat indie RPGs, like Gubat Banwa, Beacon, ICON, Dawn, etc. But that is besides the point: you are of course right on the money that there are certain types of indie games that tend to overwhelm in these spaces.

But the simple answer, at least from where I'm standing, is: rules-light stuff is easier to make, and to be fair, the market is kind of saturated with lots of low-effort and uninspired rules-light indie games, but that saturation also means that the ones that do get talked about are also often the cream of the crop. Of course in terms of market saturation it's good to keep some perspective: even at their worst, indie RPG marketplaces are never so full of unnecessary cruft as marketplaces that cater exclusively to the 5e-compatible crowd.

Same with OSR-y dungeon crawl stuff: making OSR products isn't exactly difficult because the template already exists out there, and once again there's quite a lot of simply uninspired and forgettable stuff out there. It's easy to make an OSR product; it's difficult to make a good and inspired OSR product. (Obligatory plug: @cavegirlpoems makes some good and inspired OSR stuff.)

Games with high complexity tactical combat are much more difficult to make in the first place, so there are fewer to begin with already. Of the ones mentioned I think only Gubat Banwa has really taken any discursive space in indie RPG spaces to a similar degree to Lancer.

And I think it's also that to an extent I think indie spaces are still kind of afraid of high-complexity games, because even among the coolest people there still unfortunately are people in indie spaces who believe that the wrong kind of combat in a TTRPG means that it's less roleplaying. I've even run into those people on this very site. So yeah, even in indie spaces there is room for an unfortunate "roleplaying not rollplaying" type of discourse, which is stupid and dumb and bad.

But anyway, there are of course other types of games made in indie spaces: Blades in the Dark is modeled after Powered by the Apocalypse games but is much more crunchy and has a lot of texture; Ironsworn is similarly modeled after PbtA but is not a game I would call rules-light; Eureka by the good folks of @anim-ttrpgs is undeniably an indie production, but mechanically is very trad and crunchy; and finally, Flying Circus by @open-sketchbook is another PbtA game that is the furthest from rules-light. All of the aforementioned games own.