#gotta ramble
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mapsareforbraindeads · 1 month ago
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it’s all coming together. i know why i’ve been leaning on being fem for so long. it is entirely her fault
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runawaymarbles · 11 months ago
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The thing I keep coming back to, with all the *gestures expansively* is that real life doesn't have peaceful epilogues.
Every single win has to be defended. Forever. I'm sorry. It sucks. The Nazis lost until they stopped losing. The US had abortion rights, and then 50 years later it didn't. Empires fall, and then they invade other countries again. Oppressive regimes are overthrown and replaced with other oppressive regimes. You will never finish the work etc etc etc. Which is why it's so fucking important to be able to acknowledge and celebrate progress, when it happens. The people who came before you didn't put in all that work for nothing, and you aren't, either. You can't save it all for the Ultimate Victory because there is never going to be an Ultimate Victory. There's no such thing as a time when everything is good, and ours shall not be the commune of Heaven.
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batmasc · 9 months ago
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If you're holding back on being masc because you think you need to be a skinny white man to pass, give that the fuck up. Be big if you're big, be brown if you're brown, be assertive, take up space, be whatever the fuck kind of man/masc you are and stop waiting. Stop trying to diminish your power out of fear.
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pollyanna-nana · 10 months ago
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So. It’s no secret that the dunmeshi manga gradually changed art style as it went on (thereby twinkifying a few characters…) but I like to think that, in Thistle’s case specifically, it was also a change in perception by the party. I mean…
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Early in the story, when all they knew about him was that he was the creepy, all-powerful mad sorcerer? Probably were much more intimidated by him. Same with the reader. BUT….
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By the end? Oh, he’s just a little jester twink who writes poetry and can be picked up and slung around like a bag of potatoes. No way they could take him seriously anymore. Literally this meme but in reverse
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Little guyification…
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sotc · 5 months ago
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jeez they really uhh nailed that intense gaze description from TN huh 😳
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fictionalsownme · 25 days ago
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smash???????? who said that?????????
engineer doesn't get enough love on this blog considering how much I cannot express my devotion to him, so I’m working to fix that :) this is similar to what I did for damien but it took foreverr!! iswm lighting is so so pretty which makes it impossible to get right ;;u;; the saturation is really high and there's multiple light sources so in terms of rendering it, its like it was personally designed to leave me dead on the floor :))))) either way,, I'm happy with how it turned out!! he’s very prettie :))
also bonus:
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wishchip106 · 2 months ago
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i’ve been using my brain more than its used to
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gonna think about gay mutant road trip hope my brain doesn’t explode
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gophergal · 5 months ago
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Guilt tripping people does nothing but cause vulnerable folks to spiral and make folks who dont live with moral OCD feel negatively toward your cause
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teddypoi-qd · 6 months ago
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YOU - "Man, it sure is muggy out today."
LOGIC [Trivial: Success] - No it is not. It has barely been above freezing for the past week.
ENCYCLOPEDIA - In fact, 'muggy' is not a sensation that graces the isola of Insulinde often at all. For it to be muggy would require a sizable shift in the climate that surrounds you.
SHIVERS - Somewhere, northward, a Coupris Kineema is being taken apart, bit by bit, as a pair of young geniuses reverse engineer its creation. The blueprints-in-progress are lying on a damp crate, held by two heavy cans of beer. The wind tugs at them, to no avail.
KIM KITSURAGI - "Detective, if I go outside and there are mugs all over the ground, I *will* kill you."
EMPATHY [Legendary: Failure] - He's raising his Eyebrow. He might mean it.
ESPIRIT DE CORPS [Easy: Success] - No, he wouldn't. If nothing else, the paperwork involved wouldn't be worth it.
[COMPOSURE - Medium 10] Meet Kim's eyes.
[DRAMA - Godly 16] Convince Kim you don't know what a mug is.
Say nothing.
COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - You raise your eyebrow back at Kim. Without breaking eye contact, you sip your coffee from a cereal bowl.
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tartppola · 4 days ago
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silver♀ dump + fairy gala sil/prefect sillies..........
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veggieowlet · 11 days ago
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being a cg to a teen regressor makes me think about the endless opportunities of taking care of an older kiddo.
instead of monitoring and scheduling "playdates," i'm slipping a bit of cash to my baby when they hang out with friends, sending them off with a curfew and an embarrassing amount of kisses before they're out the door. or, letting them control the radio on road trips, rocking out all the while to the tunes.
it's also being a gentle yet firm guardian, from monitoring social media consumption to limiting energy drinks for their mental/physical well-being. but most importantly it's letting them feel heard when (despite being in an older headspace) words and feelings can still be hard to understand and communicate. its okay to feel frustrated or angry or upset at the world, you will always have the space to feel heard here because mama will always be right there for her baby with open arms.
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banner refers to 18+ content! older regressors are always welcome to interact with me here
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catscidr · 8 months ago
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// taking care of your dogboy (hsr edition!) //
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i. note — sry i havent been posting yall i got a job + ive been working on three cosplays at the same time bc my local con is coming up lmao (´ཀ`」 ∠) however the brainrot never stops. it only takes a break. a little break of approximatively. a month. ish. ......... anyways dog hybrid hsr boys brainrot !!! lmk if we want more of this with more boys •ᴗ• comments and asks are appreciated hehe ii. includes — blade, gepard, boothill and gn!reader iii. cw — slice of life stuff turning into smut, possessive behaviour, overstim, slight dom/sub dynamics, real messy stuff, manhandling. use of the word "hole" to keep reader gender neutral iv. wc — 1,9k
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blade is a mutt riddled in scars and dirty bandages from living on the streets and fighting to survive.
you think he might be some german shepherd mix, but he refuses to let you swab his teeth n gums for a dna test (last time you tried you narrowly avoided a punch to the face. he apologized in his own way afterwards), so whenever people ask, just say he’s a rescue to avoid revealing that you actually just… don’t really know what breed he is. they usually drop the subject and simply go on their merry way, seeing as he wasn’t the type of pup to appreciate affection from strangers anyways– it’s rare for you to leave the house in the first place, though.
you had to switch to a remote job because blade is just so persistent when it comes to you. although possessive is a much better descriptor, because he doesn’t let anyone near you. whenever you leave to get groceries he ends up practically breathing down your neck from how close he gets— acting as if he were your literal shadow— glaring at everyone that gets too close to you. you’ve made it a habit to always go to self-checkout lane so blade doesn’t scare off the cashiers.
the second you get home he’s all over you, determined to rid you of that outside stench and replace it with his own. you started packing your grocery bags in a way that nothing will break if (read: when) you suddenly drop them on the floor, all because you’re so familiar with blade’s impatience.
he holds you still by engulfing your body with his, knees caging your hips as he grinds into you, shallow and deep. blade’s growls and huffs fill your ears just as much as his cock fills your hole, his knot kissing your tightness from the outside.
“do you like this? like how i have to fuck you every time you decide to go outside again when you could stay here,” with me blade omits, his tail swishing back and forth on the bedsheets behind him, the sound just barely grounding you to reality.
your grocery bags were long forgotten on the foor (as they usually are), your mind too foggy to function. clawing at the sheets, you try to crawl away from blade’s grip— to no avail.
he tuts, craning his head to bite down onto the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. “i might just need to mark you for extra precaution,” he bucks into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. you hear squelching, the constant plap! plap! plap! from his thighs smacking against your ass and whine, broken babbles leaving your kiss-bruised lips.
“b-blade, y’can’t- ah,” he shushes you by plugging you full of his lengthy cock, his knot almost threatening to press inside of you. you whimper, feeling lightheaded from a mix of both nervousness and arousal.
he soothes the hickey he left on your neck, licking it languidly as he stills to bask into the way your hole throbs around him. warm and tight and oh so tempting.
“shit, wanna fill you. wanna… have everyone know they can’t have you. you’re mine, mine to love ‘n mine to fuck,” you’re not lucid enough to process his thinly veiled confession, too busy writhing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to get him to continue moving.
you might want to invest into some good concealer or into those skin coloured tattoo patches to cover the bruises and bite marks blade’ll leave on you if you want to continue being a functioning member of society. you can’t really be walking around in public as if a dog had just mauled you right before you left the house, can you?
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gepard is a golden retriever because of COURSE he is. similarly to blade, he likes to invade your personal space a lot— not because he’s possessive, but because he’s extremely protective of you.
the random bruises you used to randomly notice on your body faded as soon as he came into your life. gepard’s soft, lingering touches healed them; gently placing a hand on your hip before you bump into sharp furniture so it doesn’t hit you, redirecting your head to his shoulder as you nod-off in the train before you bang your head, and so on.
it’s a full-time job and he’s working 24/7, always on the lookout for anything that could possibly hurt you as you saunter off… wherever, without a care in the world— because he took care of everything!
he would clean the apartment for you, cook (though you usually insist you do the cooking; a human doesn’t have the same taste in food as a hybrid), and even act as your own personal alarm clock. gone were the days of being woken up by loud, blaring beeping. gepard woke you up with forehead kisses instead, making your mornings much more pleasant.
but poor geppie, he’s always taking care of you; so take care of him, won’t you?
every so often you’ll sit in his lap to help him get rid of whatever stress he held in his body. your hands will knead at the muscles in his broad shoulders, all while you simultaneously kiss away the strain in his face. his brows are furrowed as you do your best to soothe his muscles; you never forget to smooch his cheek, nose and the corner of his lips.
though the attention and gentle acts of affection always ends with your hands lower than they should be.
“ah ah, no touching, remember?” you murmur in his ear playfully. you had been at it for what felt like hours; gepard’s cock and abdomen was smeared with the remnants of his cum, skin tacky from his previous loads. your hand shows no sign of stopping, not even when he begged oh so sweetly.
“c-come onn. just… jus’ wanna kiss…” and who were you to deny your sweet boy? your lips find his in a heartbeat, his tongue swiping over your own sloppily as he breathes you in like a depraved man.
the only condition you had when you did this was for him to keep his hands to himself— at least until you both decide to move on to something else. until then, his fists clench the sheets beneath the both of you, and his ears stay flat on his fluffy head.
“i’m… i’m close again, g- aah, please, please…!” he begs, cock weeping precum as you continuously jerk him off. you smile, absentmindedly rocking your hips to the rhythm you held him prisoner to— gepard was too engulfed in the warmth of your hand to notice, anyways. “cum whenever you want sweet boy,” you purr, and he keens as he buries his face in your neck, his hips lifting off the bed ever so slightly as they meet your hand and he thrusts, riding the high of his orgasm.
sticky cum coats your hand for the nth time; you relent your grip on his cock for his sake, instead choosing to shower him with chaste kisses all over his face. gepard whines, taking ahold of your waist weakly as he breathes into the crook of your neck.
“geppie, your han-“ he cuts you off, swiftly switching positions so you’re now laying on your back as he hovers over you, chest rising and falling quickly, catching his breath from the intensity of his orgasm. gepard’s tail wags slowly behind him as his hands creep up from your waist to your chest just as slowly- you feel his cock harden against your pelvis, precum spilling from his pinky tip.
“‘ts my turn now,” he huffs, leaning down to nip at your neck.
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boothill is the most obnoxious dalmatian hybrid you’ve ever seen (not that you’ve seen many, or at all). but he’s made your life so fun so you can’t be too mad at him
he’s always dragging you out of bed to go do something— could be going to the park nearby or sit in the living room playing video games on your dusty console, it doesn’t matter because he’ll MAKE you step out of your cozy nest!!
you’re glad he’s friendly, because you’re not sure how you would handle such an excited hybrid when you left the house. people come up to the both of you to chat and he indulges their questions, essentially leading the conversation (while you stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to say).
boothill is also great with kids, unexpectedly. 9 times out of 10 when you go to the park he ends up playing with someone’s child, bright smile on his face as he messes up their hair with a rough hand. they’ll throw a frisbee for him to go catch and he’ll do it happily, or he’ll even… teach them how to beat people up.
(you stare mortified as he teaches a little girl how to throw a proper punch only for her to then punch her parent when she leaves boothill’s side. you go up to them and apologize profusely, forcing boothill to bow with you.)
he also loves to help you out, even though he’s not the greatest at household chores— but he definitely tries! though he is a stellar cook, which never fails to surprise you whenever he’s on dinner duty. he just… really sucks at everything else.
it’s… mostly because he just has so much energy. he sweeps the floor? nope, he’s picking off the pieces of the broom off of the floor because he accidentally broke it. he’s fixing your bed? nuh uh, you’re throwing out the ruined bedsheets because he accidentally tore them to shreds somehow.
so, with all of these accidents happening because he’s just brimming with energy 24/7, you started purposely exhausting him. or, rather, gave him the green light to exhaust you until he tires himself out.
“booth-aah, w-wait, you’re being too…!” you fall over on top of his hard chest, keening at the new angle his cock reached inside of you. he repeated his assault on the spot that made you see stars as your jaw gaped, broken moans leaving your lips.
“don’t tell me y’re tapping out.. haa, already!” boothill grunts, his grip on your hips tightening. he throws his head back with a loud moan, abs tensing as he nears yet another climax— the 5th one of the night. maybe, maybe not. you lost count after the third one.
you bury your face into the crook of his neck, focusing on the feeling of his cock plugging you full instead of the soreness, the burn in your muscles that came from your knees holding you up on his lap.
watching you riding him will always be his favourite thing in the world, even if he always ends up fucking up into you and taking back control at the end of the night.
“gonna cu-uum…” you whine, clenching around his length almost painfully tightly, hearing his breathing hitch as an orgasm is ripped out of him in consequence to yours. boothill’s fingers dig into your ass, his hips lifting off the bed as he cums deep inside of your sloppy hole again, sticky fluid building up beneath the sheets.
you collapse on top of him fully, chest heaving against his own as you come back to your senses, slowly but surely. boothill’s ears perk up, hearing how your breathing had evening out.
“so… got another round in ya?”
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aphel1on · 8 months ago
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laios has very quickly become dear to me not just because he's an autistic protagonist but because his autism is itself one of the reasons his party has an edge over others. though we see him struggle in social situations, his special interest makes him hypercompetent in the context of dungeon survival. i'm aware that's not a NEW observation on him but i was impressed that he even used his special interest to successfully solve a crisis that relied on noticing social cues- he was able to pick out the impostors bc he honed in on the small discrepancies in their attitudes toward monsters. if that isn't weaponizing your autism, i don't know what is
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xxplastic-cubexx · 1 month ago
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crusty evolution redraw. in theory.
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tigers1o1 · 11 months ago
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Istg if something comes out about Markiplier, Charlie, or Philza being bad people I’m rejecting humanity and becoming a fish that lives at the bottom of the ocean
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andillwriteyouatragedy · 1 month ago
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wow i can't wait for the three wwdits endings: nandermo fuck and get married, nandermo become platonic vigilantes and are weird forever, or nandermo straight up murder each other
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