♣️ Rose Lalonde ♣️
@flightyBroad
Curious lifelong yearner. INTJ. Questioning. Think naught of my lines of inquiry intersecting where they may. I seek to furnish understanding of the world with fetching scarves of erudite information.
There seem to be a number of misconceptions perpetuating around certain eldritch figures of notable repute, on or off Chittr.ing. As such, I've begun something of an informal series I'll be titling "#LoveArtsAndCraft", where the most egregious offenders are properly addressed and cordoned off into their sanctioned sanitariums for the factually erroneous. We'll start with "Gl'bgolyb". Pronounced so eclipsingly overlapping in similarity to the phrase "Glub Glub", as to be coterminously superimposed. The rift's carbuncle. Emissary of the Horrorterrors. And the speaker of the vast glub. She is a fuchsiablooded lusus, and "sapience-warming gift" from @scratchDoctor as an absolute fail safe, should the trollian species fail to become the hyperviolent societal entourage and ensemble, much to the chagrin of the waxy-skulled Old Scratch, unlikely as that contingency's necessity would become, it is quite pleasing to envision. It is also a continual impetus. Since sentience first fully furnished and formed, the creature has been used as a planetary bargaining chip to keep the Empress from simply slaughtering each Fuchsia in immediate succession, but also precisely what keeps her from becoming a well-traveled chutzpah infected vagabond. Think of "Gl'bgolyb" like a union-buster to the reigning Heiress and the rest of trollkind. If continual and often violent succession remains imperative to keep the creature from annihilating trollkind, the tumultuous temerity that could come from uniting land and sea remains a pipe dream full of crack smoked by someone chronically unserious enough to attempt it hanging upside down from a dumpster. Not going to happen. What is important to reconcile with prior misunderstandings is that the Vast Glub would have galactic consequences. Not merely planetary. There is not a feasible distance one could manageably travel upon the death or disconcerting of Gl'bgolyb that would appropriately partition off the troll annihilating audible avalanche of all sound processing components in living tissue, including the brain. Starting with the "lower" castes, and ascending to decibels magnitudes of order higher, until no life remains. Union buster indeed. But this does not, however, make Feferi Peixes, or any Fuchsia who tended to Gl'bgolyb a picket line-crossing scab, per se. The creature has to be tended to, and will offer grim prognostications of the future, as well as encouraging insights that would better their caretaker, provided they are not neglectful.
H͇o͇w͇ c͇h͇a͇r͇m͇i͇n͇g͇.
Instant follow of the tag, and excellent roundup. I've heard some talk of greater exultation of her in certain fuchsia-adjacent circles, but those rites seem more aimed at using her to justify one's behavior rather than actually entertaining her will. Sort of a divine right of kings situation, as it were.
C=~ Human bulgge is substantially gifferent dhan troll bulgge, ang dhus gefiningg dhem by dhe same terminologgy is quite a confusingg gecision I fing. I propose dhat we invent a new colloquial term for dhis alien oblongg sex orggan. C=~ C=~ I propose, "Squirtpole." C=~
(o-signed
that's just a drop in a pond. there are like a million slang terms that exist
YES
── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ── Signed!!! ── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
mAkEs sEnsE to me.
I propose "squirtpole" receives two evolutionary stages to signify experience of a significant grittiness and wide reaching influence. Say, after grinding sixteen or so levels of sexual encounters, the war-torn poll can become..."wartornpole". And once of a sufficient caliber of ejaculatory proficiency beyond even this, the blasted toy of a ancillary appendage can become..."blasttoyspole".
B33< *ac nods appurrovingly*
C=~ I have geriveg many ggiggggles from dhis response C=~
C=~ A ggreat gisturbance came to stir widhin dhe gepdhs of dhe outer realms, ang so it was so dhat dhe Lalonges of violet gescent were calleg to meet in dhe GGargen, one such conggreggation dhusly assembleg known as dhe Counsel of Blossoms, to giscuss dhe inner workinggs of dheir stewargship over dhe dhinggs which squirm ang wridhe in dhe gark widh dhe bouquet until dheir intentions dhusly become one. C=~ C=~ Geliberations quickly ran soudh, conflictingg igeas offereg no substance to pollinate a solution. Argguments over sown seegs which faileg to ggerminate in moments past, ang varyingg dheories as to what reason dhe plantingg gig not succeeg were passeg about, nurturingg irritable seeglinggs. One by one, dheir vexeg pans beggan to overggrow widh umbragge. Dhe ggreenery swelleg to blanket dhe multituge ang from it a tree stretcheg out its branches ang beggan to cast a rancorous shagow over dhe council members. It requireg only one act of obegience to beggin dhe cascage, only one to ggive into its temptinggs ang taste of dhe seguctive fruit. C=~ C=~ Dhe squabblingg cacophony came to a suggen jaw-groppeg quiet, an awestruck crowg all compelleg to a stunneg silence except for two who hag eaten of dhe furious phytoig ovary ang flown into a bling gelugge of carnal, soppingg rhapsogy. A few more turneg to one anodher, shruggggeg, ang became one widh dhe spite-spurneg passion also. A collective gecision finally grawn, dhe counsel of blossoms became of one unanimous ming in dheir singgular mutual dhougght, "why not?" Dhe counsel gevolveg into an amalggam of sloppy, smuddy gebauchery for many gays, entangglingg toggedher in similituge widh dhe slimy, squirmingg odher-dhinggs over which dhey presige. In experiencingg exaltations of dhe flesh dhe counsel quickly forggot dhe origgins of dhe ggadheringg ang bogily urgges. Surely, it was inevitable dhat a chorus of ecstatic vacillations rangg out dhrouggh Dhe GGargen. Dhey sangg toggedher in ggreat ang luxurious orggy, ang dhe bouquet of Roses was gglorious C=~ C=~ When dhe flame of concupiscence hag finally burneg dhrouggh all of its available fuel, ang dheir liquifieg ragge hag extingguisheg all remainingg embers, one voice amongg many rangg out. In postcoital clarity, she came to a simple, yet miraculous conclusion, a padh of least resistance, in fewer worgs dhan coulg be counteg on two hangs. Dhe counsel members all noggeg in aggreement as to dhe soungness of her worgs, ang dhe meetingg was finally gismisseg. Dhe gisturbance was efficiently quelleg dhereafter C=~
I apologize for the unusual brevity. I have but a few thoughts to share. Ah. Sex Pollen. Such an unconquerable classic. Will it ever be dethroned from the confines of literary employ? Perhaps not. The many brick lain masonry scars from the primordial mortar-lined and protected cubicle will stand in unwavering ages against the perpetually accumulated ages. I must confess to a certain bemused admiration for the sheer density of florally affixed vernacular at play here. You have committed so fully to the arboreal conceit of your own premise that one almost expects to find pollen stains on the prose itself. "Rancorous shadow," "furious phytoid ovary", the dedication to maintaining this extended botanical allegory while describing what is essentially a temporal clone orgy suggests a mind of...decisively made focus, if not necessarily disciplined talent. That said, the narrative economy is equally telling. The transition from "vexed pans overgrowing with umbrage" to "sloppy, smutty debauchery" occurs with such an ethically dubious velocity that one suspects the author was either rushing to reach the carnal payload or simply eschewed the patience to properly earn their climax, as it were. Are you an especially impatient lover, Pelagi? You may be disappointed to learn how much time it really takes to please a human, even with a mind addled by the imposition of sex pollen(s). The "path of least resistance" conclusion feels particularly of prognosticating import, given the elaborate cosmic setup. If taken at allegorical face value, the solution to interdimensional disturbance is simply to exhaust oneself through vigorous self-love? A comforting perspective, I suppose, if not a particularly compelling horror. The answer being inside of me all along is not a notion I seek to unravel myself, or even myselves, but amongst others who offer a unique perspective and entreaty. We are all listlessly unblinking wanderers with mouths agape, thrashing through the blinding eternities of everlasting all-spanning oblique obfuscation. For posterity's sake, and in the interest of technical accuracy, I do rather love the piece. I find the "why not?" moment's hivemindian ubiquitousness particularly authentic and especially poignant. I suspect I would shrug, given sufficient provocation and insufficient observers. But not in my own company. Not amidst me. And the postcoital clarity leading to more efficient problem-solving? Aspirational, truly. The "post-nut" effect is a documented phenomenon with a cross pollination that defies scientific study or singular category relevance. If only all my existential dilemmas could be resolved through the strategic application of narcissistic hedonism and a complete abandonment of sphere separating societally adhering modesty. If only 'giving a fuck' were tantamount to problem solving to any degree of permanence. Many of my eternal struggles would become fleetingly liminal.
C=~ On dhe contrary, you assume dhe pacingg of gebauchery incorrectly. You seem to have misseg dhe followingg statement after dhat which clarifies dhat dhe pacingg, ang dherefore dhe collective self-pleasuringg, occurreg over dhe course of several gays, not simply hours. I have intentionally left dhe amount of time spent on dhese activities gubious, but also far from short. Dhe arggument itself from dhe lens of blackrom becomes an essential part of dhe builgup to intimacy as well. C=~ C=~ It is a hasty ggeneralization to conflate your experience of dhe pacingg of dhis narrative's proggress from furious to fuckingg to my personal sexual patience, radher dhan to consiger dhat maybe breakingg into suggen sloppy makeouts in dhe miggle of an arggument is inherently funny. I go not personally assume dhat sloppy, smuddy gebauchery excluges all odher stagges of proggression except for climax ang intercourse. Radher, to me such a worgingg represents dhe process of copulation in its entirety, inclugingg dhe builgingg of sexual tension, foreplay ang mutuality. To make such a claim about my personal patience baseg on dhat information woulg be to graw dhis limiteg conclusion yourself dhat sloppy smuddy gebauchery excluges all but intercourse first. Are you an impatient lover, Rose iteration? I woulg not assume so, ang you shoulg not assume so of me. Clearly, dhis particular line of semantics is fallacious ang unnecessary. C=~ C=~ Movingg on; C=~ C=~ Observe also how it beggins in a loadhingg which ggrows out of an inconclusive gilemma outsige of dhemselves, ang how it is dhe blamingg of one anodher for its inconclusiveness insteag of what causeg it, ang dheir inability to hear each odher which leags dhem not initially to viggorous self love, but too viggorous self hate. Dheir mings are clougeg over by dheir own urggency ang frustration, dhere can be no giscovery here. Dhe solution, dherefore, is not nearly so simple as a singgular state ragical self-love ang nodhingg else, but a complex, evolvingg ang lenggdhy engeavor of purggingg unnecessary neggativity. A comingg to terms widh imperfection ang limitations must occur, in dhis case expresseg dhrouggh carnal means amongg temporal clones insteag of cerebral lines of inner gialoggue. C=~ C=~ Dhe neegs of dhe emotional self are complex ang illoggical, ang often easier to process dhrouggh physical sensation dhan dhrouggh worgs. Dhe council of blossoms not only came to dhe unanimous conclusion of, "why not," but also dhat loggic ang reasoningg coulg not overcome dhis problem until dheir emotional ang physical neegs hag been fully satisfieg. It is not unusual dhat beinggs of dhe flesh may fing dhemselves unable to perform loggical tasks while emotional ang physical neegs are unmet. Dhrouggh dhese acts, dhe council not only relieves dheir physical neegs but dheir emotional ones as well, vacillatingg dhrouggh dhe full rangge of feelingg in dhe process. In meetingg dhose neegs, dhe council unburgeneg dhemselves, ang as a result dheir vision was no longger clougeg to dhe solution dhat hag been in front of dhem all alongg. I suppose you coulg also say dhat dhe work compares dhe intensity of gopaminerggic rewarg for eureka to dhat of copulatory release, in tangem widh a punchline rooteg in dhe familiar experience of postcoital ggenius. C=~ C=~ Neverdheless, a fantasy such as dhis is not meant to be taken seriously. It is, at its core, silly C=~
Oh, I am absolutely an inpatient and expectant lover. Any assumptions made about me confer you no demerits or duly regarded defensiveness. I am merely sharing what I consider to be pertinent details concerning this work. You seem quite proud of it, and, duly so. I'll again reiterate I quite enjoyed it. But that is beside the point. My likeness, or rather, a likeness of mine was borrowed, and I felt it prudent to weigh in with my thoughts. The good, the bad, and the cuddly. And while the woeful underabundance of consentacles, black sacrosanct invocations, or due regarding of maritime appendages is always a minor let-down, it did not siphon my enjoyment of the work. When you leave much up to interpretation, many things will be interpreted. This is simply the nature of fiction in which gaps are left, by artistic design or oversight, for an onlooker to experience. Many will see a gap and think all manners of salacious things. Others will need to be goaded. You can lead a Y/C reader to monsterpussy, but you cannot confer in them due impetus to drink. All of this to say. I am quite eager for future works from you on the subject.
I've been keeping my mind sharp and my sensibilities sensibly stationed inside this skull of mine. The flesh wrapping it has yet to atrophy, so no sense in letting my brain exceed it in that sordid little footrace. With other news, Lil Cal is ridiculously busted in Balatro, and I hope this oversight is never properly patched. T̶hat would disappoint.
|| ► what time is it? soon-to-beforian understandings of the trollian sweep. || an article on beforus-based calendar understanding and execution of chronology by accredited author chakwa nanich, localized into 4 separate trollian dialects and 1 non-trollian dialect for ease-of-reading. questions? comments? generalized fears about upcoming elections to caste-representative positions in government? chakwa nanich can be reached using @integrityManifesto on chittr. → article begins. in branching out across platforms, it has come to my attention that! non-trollian species might struggle to understand the timekeeping practices of a beforian journalist. since journalism itself is about sharing information in the most understandable and blunt way, i can't exactly leave a newfound audience out to dry. so. despite my great efforts to avoid the inevitable, i will now embrace the mantle of proper schoolfeeder to the unabsorbed. should make things easier when you are all eventually subsumed into the beforian domain, putting you at least two sheds above the average cull-captive. let's hop to it! beforus rotates on two axes, the polar axis and the lunar axis. the polar axis runs through our largest oceans, specifically the deepest trenches of those oceans! similar to the "human" concept of "north and south" poles from my extensive research. the lunar axis is a variable point, so just think of it as "perpendicular" to our lovely pink moon and our solar system's resident star. analogous to the "human" concept of "north and south" poles... again. wik-kəmtəks? most wrigglers are! don't worry... i have a feedecree in communication. time to approach it another way. beforus orbits the resident star on its lunar axis, meaning the moon and the sun are on the same "plane" in space at all times. however, the planet SPINS on its polar axis, and our equator is never parallel with our moon because the MOON orbits over the polar axis. 'dret wik-kəmtəks ixt. {i have included a helpful diagram below to clarify things a little further, in case my readers are visual feeders.} moving on... a perigee is the time it takes our pink moon to reach one pole from the other, or one full night and light together, with the apogee being the midpoint or change-over from light to night... or night to light depending on your location! sort of similar to chaku-san or chaku-mun for the diurnal "human" species that seems most dominant of non-trollian chittr users. the moon orbits us 13 full times over the course of an equinox. 26 perigees {or 26 apogees if you're weird} make just 1 equinox {about 1 rotation of the planet} and it takes around 26 equinoxes to orbit the resident star. wow! it sure is nice to have everything perfectly match like that, huh? ...fun fact for the curious... beforus actually has several "eves" that are "not-really-nights" in our calendars, or night / light cycles that get "skipped" from counting because we like our 26-26-26 set-up sooo much. you might have heard of 12th perigee's eve before! that's just one of our "skipping" perigees, showing up every equinox or so to pad out those pesky "almost" and "abouts" in beforan timekeeping. hatching on an eve is considered very unlucky in some parts of beforus, so do your best to chew out at a good time like just before or after a season. a season? right! beforus has four seasons, known as dim / dusk / dawn / doom. these are governed by our orbit around the resident star. doom and dusk are opposites, just like dim and dawn, existing on opposite sides of beforus at any given time. unlike non-trollian seasons on boring 1-axis planets like "earth" or similar, our seasons refer to the position of the star's light on beforus at any given time during a sweep. the side of beforus that faces the resident star is in the doom season, the side facing away from the resident star is in the dusk season! meanwhile, the dawn season is the "edge" of the doom-dusk seasons "turning" into the sunlight and the dim season is the doom-dusk "edge" now "turning" away from the sunlight. {i'll include a diagram for this as well. my gift to visual feeders.} doom seasons are hot, dusk seasons are cold, and dim / dawn seasons are just the best! thankfully, the worst of doom and dusk seasons take place over the deep oceans, warming our and cooling our waters in a way that keeps the whole of beforus very livable for even the lowliest of landdwellers. when our equator faces the resident star, our natural rotation keeps the topography from being utterly eradicated by husk-blistering radiation and heat... but don't go wandering during the light apogee. seriously! i'm warning you against that. phew! looks like we've covered all the basics, even if it gets even more complicated down to the smallest click. trolls are pretty set in our ways. we like everything working out in sort-of-tridecimals more than anything else, so even our perigees are broken up into 26: 13 scrubs before apogee then 13 scrubs after. as for a scrub, that's 26 swabs, and finally 52... clicks to a swab. {no system's perfect, i suppose.} consider it a system relying on 12... + 1, just in case. thank you for taking the time to feed up on basic beforian timekeeping with me, dear reader. hopefully these details have scuttled to the deepest reaches of your pan-equivalent... and if you're a troll who didn't know any of this stuff. well, now you do! if you enjoyed my ramblings, you might think to subscribe to my chittr profile, but. only do that if you're prepared for some hard hitting REAL journalism tackling the weird and wacky and wonderful problems on beforus. yes, i said PROBLEMS. no system is ideal until there's nothing left to critique, so keep your bulbs open and your tubes clean. if you dare! → article concludes. this is chakwa nanich, alta nayka ɬatu on the 12th lunar perigee of the 8th doom season's equinox. ɬax̣ayam! mirrored articles on swattpad, recoupjournal, huskbook, and panshock monthly. originally posted on the official alta 'mayka munk-kəmtəks website. — alta ɬaska chaku-sax̣ali, ɬaska 'təmtəm ɬatwa ɬatwa ɬatwa kʰanu-qʰata.
AH!!!! I see... HOO HOO HAH!! A fellow parser of the fine arts of WORDS and SCRIPTURES!!! You have done well to make friends with individuals of wise caliber I am proud of you my apprentice! @(･ェ･)@⊃━☆:･ﾟ✧ EHEM!! If uhm, Chakwa witnesses this, I greet you! My name is Monkei and I am very excited to share knowledge with you and also to LEARN from you!! HOO HOO HAH! @(･ェ･)@⊃━☆:･ﾟ✧
miss muckrake... it is an honor! ૮꒰˶ - ˕ -꒱ა though we operate in different fields of wordsmithing, i should make it clear that i am an avid reader of the beforan enquirer. your upcoming coverage of the fight night phenomenon haunts my lights. no pressure, of course, but know that i am beyond eager to sink my fangs into your perspective. and... thank you very much for sharing my article with your followers! mere text cannot describe the thankfulness in my pusher, so here: ｡° ૮₍°´ᯅ`°₎ა °｡ — alta ɬaska chaku-sax̣ali, ɬaska 'təmtəm ɬatwa ɬatwa ɬatwa kʰanu-qʰata.
ɬush ɬush ɬush!!! your accent is perfectly reasonable given your less-than-living circumstances, miss wellen. i'm assuming you are east beforan, given your honorifics and name placement, so please let me know if you prefer -san suffixes. ݁ Ი𐑼⋆ it warms my thorax to know that kongar has taken the time to spread my ramblings beyond the veil. industrious! perhaps i am destined for an even greater audience when my husk finally fails me?! can't let all that importance go to my head. as for my dialect... that's exactly why i'm so blunt about my history. beforus, as you probably know, has a terrible problem. silencing the outer fringes of society, or quashing what came before... i just won't stand for it. jumping up to the plate is my reason for being, and if i have my way, perhaps full articles can be in my native dialect and still be understood...? 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 — alta ɬaska chaku-sax̣ali, ɬaska 'təmtəm ɬatwa ɬatwa ɬatwa kʰanu-qʰata.
ˇ ᕦ@(o･ｪ･oˇ)@ᕤˇ♡ˇ ...THAT IS...AN AWFUL LOT OF FANS. YOU REALLY KNOW HOW TO FILL A ROOM. CHAKWA. CHAKWOW. HOO HOO HOT DAMN... @(。・へ・)@ ...!!! KONGAR'S SHOULDER!!! CANNOT. LET. DOWN. THE FANS. @(。･`へ´･)@ ...HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.... @(。ˇ･`へ´･)@ HHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH. @(。･`⸟´･)@ HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRGGRHGH. @(。･`ꇳ´･)@—̳͟͞͞3⁼³₌₃⁼³₌₃⁼³₌₃⁼³₌₃ 『 スクークム・ピー・ユー・ケー・ピー・ユー・ケー・パンチ』 - 【Sukūkumu pī yū kē pī yū kē panchi】 SKOOKUM PUK-PUK PUNCH!!!!!!!!! @(。◕`ꇳ´◕)@ —̳͟͞͞0 HHH..A.H....HA....HA.... @(。・｡・)@ ...!!! ˗ˏˋ ✸ ˎˊ˗ @(。・ｪ・)@ GOOD. GOOD AS EVER. ˗ˏˋ ঌ ˎˊ˗ @(。・0・)@ WE WILL HAVE TO KEEP IN TOUCH MORE!!!! CHAKWA!!!! I HAVE SO MUCH THAT HAS HAPPENED TO TELL YOU ABOUT!!!! PLUS. WE HAVE NOT SPARRED. IN SO LONG. TOO SPARING! NOT ENOUGH SPARRING! MY SHOULDER IS HEALED. BUT IT SHOULD BE RECOVERING!!! FROM THE IMPACT!!! OF A HIGHER THAN HIGHEST HIGH JUMPKICK!!!!
witnessing... ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ a grand pleasure to meet a compawnion of kongar's! i am very talkative, but only about the things that i like. this is your one and only warning before entering companionship with the one and only chakwa nanich... ₍ᐢ. ༝ .ᐢ₎ still, we probably have much to learn from the other. here is to a long and cheerful closeness! — alta ɬaska chaku-sax̣ali, ɬaska 'təmtəm ɬatwa ɬatwa ɬatwa kʰanu-qʰata.
HOO HOO HAH! Do not worry, as a wizard of the magic arts, all knowledge is good knowledge!! You may blab to me on the parchments as long as you desire!! @(･ェ･)@⊃━☆:･ﾟ✧ Perhaps we could even invite you to our grand adventures? our many nights of intense bloons towers defense 6? Some Balatro? @(･ェ･)@⊃━☆:･ﾟ✧ WE WILL BALL!!! MONKEY BALL!!! @(･ェ･)@⊃━☆:･ﾟ✧
your invitation is just so thoughtful! do you have nothing but kindness in your pan?! it's putting this journalist to shame... hihihi! 𐔌՞꜆. ̫.꜀՞𐦯 it would be an honor to join yourself and @apexAcerbate in a flurry of company-making activities. i'm shocked that the perilous trials of MONKEY BALL have fans even in this modern age... i suppose some trolls are gluttons for punishment? but ixt caveat. kongar is required to ice and rest that shoulder. i will not be responsible for chitin failure later in life. ma kəmtəks?! ૮₍ ˶˃ ⤙ ˂˶ ₎ა — alta ɬaska chaku-sax̣ali, ɬaska 'təmtəm ɬatwa ɬatwa ɬatwa kʰanu-qʰata.
Fret not!! I shall cast a Panacea spell upon him so that he may recover quickly from his ailments, and also gently bonk him with my wand for being irresponsible with his physical health! @(･ェ･)@⊃━☆:･ﾟ✧ And you flatter me soo HOO HOO HAH, a true wizard must find kindness in his heart, lest he be lead astray by the dark arts... I would not wish such a fate to any magic caster. @(･ェ･)@⊃━☆:･ﾟ✧
you got any clue on how this compares to alternian timekeepin?
hmm... an incredibly important question for chakwa nanich! to this i devote my fullest attentions, so please consider the following: given the nature of alternia's additional faux moon pi traditional documentation about bi-lunar estimations, it is this journalist's opinion that the tipsu-pchix̣ mun has a stationary or abnormal proximity to the spuʔuq-pil mun. this could have no effect at all, or perhaps a massive effect on everything from rotation of the alternian planet to length of orbit around the alternian system star. ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ which... is not taking into account the myriad of ways alternian subjugation and planetary destruction may have intoned further alterations. chakwa nanich could infer that "interference" with the trollian species in development could have a nonsensical time system enforced by ⚪utside parties: insisting on things like "months" pi "days" as monitoration. strange! gross! na-chaku sik-təmtəm! /) /) ( • ༝•) extensive in-person research would be required to ascertain the differences... perhaps a story exists here to burrow into?! — alta ɬaska chaku-sax̣ali, ɬaska 'təmtəm ɬatwa ɬatwa ɬatwa kʰanu-qʰata.
I have no ideological hang-ups about scripture lifted from Biblical Buzzfeed type interrogatives, but it cannot be presented without qualifiers that my answers were slightly exaggerated for the purposes of trying to achieve at least something of merit. I did not anticipate being called a lardass in no uncertain terms for my simple appreciation of an agrarian style grazing approach to taking life as it comes. Greed. Ninety percent. Gluttony. Eighty five percent. Oh. I like nice things and prefer not to starve in this capitalist hellscape that prioritizes stepping over fallen comrades or driving a fork in their back rather than lending a hand to help. How putrid of me. How can my irredeemable gold coin satchel lust ever be sated? Sloth. I had something witty to say about this but do not feel like typing it. This should be patently self-evidenced in its falsehood. Pride. Seventy percent. Oh no. They docked me points for being too humble. Better luck next time. Not like I would need such skeptically regarded superstitions to succeed by my own merits. Lust. Ninety percent. The average Chittr user lusts circles around me. Big. Pendulous. Breast shaped circles. Strictly taxonomically speaking. Envy and Wrath. Both seventy percent. Perfect equilibrium. I hate you. Give me everything you got in the cash register. I could be a Batman villain. Scoot over, Satan. There is a new bad bitch in damnation town. Now if you will excuse me. I have a spiritual power nap to partake in.
sleepy bitch disease patience of zero lmao
if ppl were smoll i could go u have been bad go 2 time out and stick em in my mouth just kidding unless
shrink me wwitch i wwas first in line on the gravvy train dowwn her gullet
can i go back to being flat ass dave its still a motherfucking lie but there is safety in untruths over wild fucking allat this is supposed to be a jade miasma why is it spreading this feels like betrayal of a higher than highest order
flat ass dave it is u know what they say its contagious very easy 2 pass over 2 other ppl
nah sorry i got peaches in the back straight up bongo beat booty ass cheeks you just mad cause im beautiful and left nothing for dirk that is a set of planks put bluntly i got a whole ass hull sea worthy buttocks deploy in case of drowning and that bitch got me drifting to an island if a vessel capsizes wanna know how fucks dont drown when they get flung underwater off a ship its my ass my buoyant bouncy bigass fucking ass
if it helps no strider has ever had an ass
thats cause no strider has ever been me got them mama jeans stretched like im a bitch pregante and thighs to compliment like im a mujer gigante better merge on the highway couple kilometers back cause im a wide load bearing bad bitch hefty in the sack if she dies she dies and i choose when hugs and lives end not even gonna spellcheck just fatfingering a send because like my ass (a snack) baby we are so got back
₍ᐢᐢ₎★ It was only a matter of time before the jar posting turned into this #italwaysstartsoutasajoke #hahathatscrazywhatifthisthing #wellnowitturnsyouon #thatoryouhadthisallalongandyouwerrehidingit
was it really yeh i guess thats usually how it goes
steps on you. with my paws.
oh holy shit death cancelled im literally invincible
well yeah!! :D id be happy to step on you dave. ...... god im such a freak
jade respectfully stepping on people paws or no is one of the most vanilla ass kinks you get fresh out of kink freshman year in kink college at pledge week during rush they tell your ass oh hah you think stepping on people makes you weird thats so cute holy fuck we got a guy over there named sven who just fucks planets like he fucks actual planets and jeff over there saw one willy wonka scene not even needing to specify which one and that is her entire personality cant even get off the normal way anymore but sure failing to look before stepping forward yeah thats oh man stop the paw presses
.................... so do you want to be stepped on or
oh good god no you are like years too young and stories too not tall for that to be a compelling dynamic for me im so sorry jade but that is a nonstarter for me
cool! can we be friends? :D
my friendship is earned not freely given think of it like when theres a training sequence and a meditating monk or a kung fu master who internalizes his discipline over the course of many moons two three four maybe even five years worth of moons that is a lot of moons jade are you sure you are prepared to go band for band with the night itself
im more than prepared!! im jade mae harley !!!!
then mae the force be with you jade mae harley
GASP!!! I LOVE THAT PUN!!! OH MY OH MY!!! EEEK!!! um!! um!! you have fun striding all over!! :D
pov i got u trapped in a jar and i give u a little slice of brownie and a small cup of milk before i go off 2 do some stuff
Begging you to tag this #yourjar so I can follow it. Thanks.
can i have more or is that too greedy
that was a very pretty image btw i suppose i can do that 4 u
no u can have more
Thank you, Ro-Lal. I owe you my life.
hell yes
DO YOU CL34N TH3 J4R 4S 4 CONS3QU3NC3 OF F33D1NG US D41RY 4ND SUG4R
i do clean the jar yeh
i mean i dont have 2 clean ur jar terezi if thats what u really want lol
Do people not know I fuck weirdos? Tell me it's not sincerely a shock that I'm raunchily and unconditionally receptive to the needs of lost dogs and strays, is it? I've never NOT acclimated to the wanton wants of others, even if, at times, strictly through an exploratory lens. But this is far from mere fascination with the concept. I indulge it in the strictly literal most mechanical terms. I like helping people in need. Some people I like helping, aren't truly people at all. They are dogs. Dogs who fail to recognize the shape of their own muzzle, the curl of their own paws, the click of their fangs, and the slobber that hides under unassuming words like "drool" and "salivation". These dogs deserve to be boundlessly happy. To skip and stride on walkies spanning many yards beyond the yard they are confined to for enrichment. The classification is all mind bogglingly intriguing to me, to a point I could spend many nights speaking on it... The petplay enthusiast, the puppyplay devotee, the roleplay connoisseur, each of these seeking transcendence through deliberate diminishment of the self and one's own sense of personhood. One humors these proclivities, of course, not out of mere indulgence, but as an anthropological exercise in the transmundane. The crude and feral animalistic adjacent mechanics (often strictly performative, one stresses, though perhaps not always), the BDSM-style undertones of collar and command, the hypnophilia of trance-like obedience, each and every one represents a fascinating vector of unconditional psychological surrender. And is there anything hotter than surrender? I seldom imagine so. Even a doll can put up a meaningless struggle. To posit itself cutely. To adjust to the cold of shower water as it is washed of all impurities, scrubbed of anything that might blemish or tarnish its wondrously well-loved existence. I find myself particularly captivated by those who embody the more bestial aesthetic with such...earnestness. The ones who fetch not merely as performance, but as genuine expression of undying affection and desperation to do whatever it takes to please. There is something almost xenophilic about it, this attraction to the alien consciousness of the canine imitant, the form transposed, the identity assumed and subsumed into the self, translated through human lookalike and silhouette. One might almost say it borders on agalmatophilia, to conjure the earlier doll example to mind, the way they freeze in playful stillness, awaiting activation at the slightest command from an owner and mistress. And what choice do I have? I am an adult exulted to the precipice of godhood, surrounded by borderline couch potato Olympians of retired physical vigor, possessed of preternatural strength and an almost canine loyalty is exercised by nearly all I speak to, as if behavior instinctual and codified throughout the known and unknown universe. And then there is my friends. Suffice to say. Knowing everything only elucidates precisely how screwed I am. To some. I am divine. Sure. But to them, I could be unwound, rewritten, unspooled, and abated in presence until small enough to fit between two vindictively pinched fingers until every day is another incremental installment of a much belabored "8/8" joke without end. And not that I particularly mind... But the thrill of knowing precisely what Jade Harley, I mean, what could hypothetically transpire if dangerous cosmic-caressing spatially stretching strength is not held in check by nothing but the safeguard of my voice? Yes. It is quite hot. Yes. It is quite pleasant. Yes. I fuck weirdos who could squash me unrecognizable. That is the point. #NSFW #Puppyplay #Roleplay #Paraphilia #Xenophilia #Agalmatophilia #Psychrophilia #Hypnophilia #BDSM #agalmatophilia #Smothering #LeashPlay #NSFWE #Macrophilia #Microphilia #SizeDifference #ExtremeSizeDifference #PowerImbalance #UnreliableNarration #StreamOfConsciousness #AnthropologicalKink #Aftercare #PsychologicalKink #TrustIssues #MeritedTrustIssues
https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/03fc95da6cd9.png #selfcest
☆ >> Is this a call-out post? :((
respectfully you considered discovering you were a sylph of heart was a quote call out post end quote why would my sister ranting about freakyphilia stuff be a callout post in a big ol doc dropped where you arent named even scratched out or anonymous the answer absolutely it is your cancellation begins now
☆ >> That was very hard 2 read and im not sure if I fully unders2od but thank you 4 your wisdom
no prob action jaxxon
any time action jaxxon
there is an appeal in looking after the ppl stuck in a jar admittedly that goes beyond a bit but i am not thinking abt it that hard
Me? Never.
:33< do mew have mewre nepeta handy?
well we did have 2 get things from each other obvs was it the jars
i am just gonna trust thats true for now
i am a man of ironclad irony the minute it stops being a bit my brows are visible well above my shades
not yet but im keeping you on speed dial when she isnt busy
u mean like ur pfp?
you read my goddamn mind
but no way higher
wowwwwwww thats flattering
cAn't hAtE ErIdAn fOr bEiNg iNtO MaCrOpHiLiA. 🤷♀️ SoMe pEoPlE WaNt a gIaNt wOmAn oR MaN To uSe eM As fOoT FlOsS.
hIlArIoUs pOsT To cOmPlEmEnT My fAcE PaInT On, BuT ThAnK YoU.
most of my troubles would be solved if i really could shrink ppl and put them in jars lol less fires
hmmmmm u see i think ur lyin 2 me but u and ur flat ass got nothing 2 worry abt
You're just jealous of #myjar privileges.
its okay he can be spoiled a little im sure it will be fone fine**
I won't feign otherwise. #MyJar #NotYourJar #Meyonaise #ThatsMyJam #Also #MyStick
i have never told a lie in my entire li
YOU
NAW FUCK YOU I STAND BY EVERYTHING I SAID
weighted down only by my gluteus maxmumimus
thats really cute how u think u can do that
you monster
Merry #VoreDay the First, to the enlightened. Theme of today's illustrative clash is, naturally, in line with the holiday: 7th of August — The Eater. Our commissioner would like to remain anonymous. Aside from a small, Junior-dequirked message to a very unlucky victim, which follows. @imJunior: Anonymize this missive. ==> Having glimpsed my unenviable fate in the certain future, I would like to exercise some small control over the here and the now and the torment to come. This will be finished at just the right moment to make him furious. Crazy. But hey. An artist has to make a living. So butter your biscuits and get straight nasty on the click-through. This sucker only loops once, per commissioner's orders, so rewatches are manual... And they say that #sadism is dead.
That shit still creeps me out. Going to start requesting all your correspondence in actual writing; this head-whisper phenomenon is not cool.
OH. THAT IS VORE. VORE OF MY COMFORT CHARACTER.
Edifying from an ecological perspective.
My staunch defender in the grain. Ten thousand tooth blessings to you.
Ain't over yet. Peep the #Part1of2.
Huh. Shades were recording. Digging out some decent shots from #brawl-out-bbq prior to hasty retreat.
shit was so cash loved dishing out patty whacker plains harvested moo discs
also what the fuck man youre so like you always do this shit we are supposed to be beefing and like some dad getting his kid an ice cream cone after he biffs it and fucks up his knee youve got some soft serve sweetness like rekindling our shit i hate how hard you make it to hate you you dick fuck you
Look who's mad over a vanilla-chocolate swirl plus caramel drizzle.
dude that is the creepiest fucking way you have ever described my hair please go back to calling that shit the magpie nest
also fuckkkkkkkkkkk now im craving the plus caramel drizzle ice cream fucked up
Dude.
Nah, you made that shit weird as hell.
Quarterstaff.
I am partial to the war hammer.
I'm down to do the second one. First one, eh. I'm already taken like that.
I DO NOT MIND. DOuBLE DIPPING. BuT FINE. YOuR. PROPOSAL. HAS BEEN ACCEPTED. MY ANSWER. IS THE MAuL. IN LAIRS AND LuSII. HOSTED. BY ANOTHER OF YOuR KIND. A ROSE. THE MAuL DEALS 2D6 OF DAMAGE. THOSE ARE BIG FuCKING NuMBERS. MOST WEAPONS. ONLY DEAL ONE MEASLY DICE OF DAMAGE. THIS ONE IS TWO. AS A RESuLT. I ATTEMPTED TO MAKE uSE OF SuCH A WEAPON. BuT FOuND MYSELF QuICKLY RuNNING OuT OF THEM. BECAuSE THE MANY POuNDS OF HEFT WERE QuITE DIFFICuLT. TO RELOAD. AFTER A CABER TOSS STYLE CHuCKING. AT THE SKuLL OF MY ENEMIES. BuT WHEN I DECIDED. TO THROW AT CLOSE RANGE. WITHOuT EVER LEAVING MY HANDS. MY KILLS PER MINuTE. IMPROVED FROM A MEASLY SIX. WHICH IS EFFECTIVELY A DEATH EVERY TEN SECONDS. TO SOMETHING MORE LIKE. FIFTEEN. FORTY. THIRTY. DEPENDING ON CONGESTION. AND TIME PERIOD. AND BIRTHRATES.
CLOSE. BuT I LIKE MY WEAPONRY FIRM. AND uNCOMPROMISING. LIKE ME.
Oh, the maul makes sense. You have good taste in weaponry, Caliborn.
YOu HAVE SIMILARLY GOOD TASTE IN TELLING ME I HAVE GOOD TASTE IN WEAPONRY.
Your response is satisfactory AND it got a chuckle out of me. Double points awarded.
c0rbin. two damage m0des.
morningstar, duh. best 0f both worlds.
Bec de corbin. Because it lets me keep people far away from me.
I am not your savior. That is a step too far. Far further than I am willing to waltz, and strut, and gait just so that your Solemaster dominion extends to every track and field of paradox space's nebulously infinite span. For the bit, I would do anything. There are few words I would keep in reticent reserve when it comes to you, Dirk Strider. But "I am here to save you"? "Hand in unlovable hand"? Any miscellaneous assortment of Mountain Goat lyrics? Dross. You will far sooner find me dragging my heels hard and deep enough to carve the ceiling of the nine hells clean off, scraped unrecognizable to all but Dante. I am putting my foot down. You will not trample another beneath yours, Solemaster Strider.
Man. Fucking... whatever. Sure. See if I give a shit.
im sorry rose big bro fucking cooked
Welcome to the Thunderstomp, Lalonde.
I'm going to need more cheese puffs for this.
This is because I posted drunk, isn't it? You are maligning a woman her good brandy and the occasional backwater gas station swill as a pleasantry. How cruel of you. The fact that I prefer to taste my whine instead of the shoe-leather tasting polish you deserve. Such a pitiable affront to dignity. We're getting off on the wrong foot. Should we not be on the same side? You adore Roxy's drunken shenanigans. Why discourage my own? Why take this as some sort of failing?
He is being mean without appropriate grounds or justification of any kind.
Oh in that case, he's getting chunked again like last night. #ChunkStrider
With all due respect, and in my infinite dominion as Solemaster you are granted none, this is about the principle. Here I am, tormented, locked in the reflective sheen of a fuchsia's heels. In my hour of desperate need, there you are. My savior? No. My lashing, my antagonist. To the fucking Dimension with you. May we sink into this lake, hand in unlovable hand, knowing every step was guaranteed from the word go.
This is literally the mildest torture I could possibly invoke on her ass. Why is that chunk-worthy.
Because you don't mess with my nemesisters.
Boohoo. Maybe you should try extricating her folly-befallen self. Maybe you'll join her in my infinite stiletto chambers.
Anyψave. Look at my shoes. 3:)
Ah. Alas. I made it only halfway through the midst of before my efforts were rendered obsolete, and the thighs and legs were mentioned. A pity. Well, I did only commit to muster the effort, I never said I would use it.
Oh hehe, you cute. It's orcay, pike, shoe shoes are the star boat I'm also a prize~!
D --> Very pretty
nhhhh.,.,. i-i'm uh v-very DistraCteD sorry.,,.,,. i-i'm sure the shoes are great.,,,.
I ψonder ψhat the distraction could be...
UvU
nhhhh.,,.,. l-legs.,.,. i-it's a a lot.,,..,.
I do gotta lotta legs, thank you ;)c
nhhhhhhhhhh.,.,. y-you're welCome.,.,. i-i guess i'll have to finD a way to Deal with the uh effeCts your legs haD on me.,,.,. #suggestive
>if i had severe developmental issues and also smaller bulges i'd be thanking whatever council of godthings saw fit to deliver this forbidden image file directly into the isolated comfort of my gooncave >thankfully religion is fake as FUCK so i dont have to be grateful to anyone except you my glorious dread heiress LOLOLOL >seriously hope i live long enough to get fully converted into a drooling nerve-fried mindslave hardwired straight into your warship so you can juice every last watt out of my nervous system >then you’ll have zero reason not to drag me out of my fleshport whenever the fuck you feel like it and abuse my bodily autonomy as often and as messily as you want >honestly cannot think of many things better than being a twitching meat battery or you digging those military prototype designer heels straight into the softest part of my jugular, slowly crushing my windpipe while i flop around and gurgle to death >but being able to just lie there tasting the sweat forming on your inner thighs while you park that perfect ass on my face and smother me is still right the fuck up there LOLOLOL
Gonna start doing the splits in the middle of arguments like that love island gill ψith no ass.
Ah, the ancient and esoterically noble art of mid-argument calisthenics. There's something almost poetically apt about threatening to drop into a full split while delivering a withering assessment of someone's gluteal situation, while affirming it unsatisfactorily. Ordinarily, I would prescribe a less self-effacing remedy for such discrepancies in "power level", but in this particular case, "showing your entire ass" - proverbially speaking, would be enough to significantly shrink most lifespans to nigh nil negation. It's the kind of chaotic energy your heiressdom brings that I find myself unreluctantly respecting in all instances. The intersection of physical comedy and surgical verbal precision. Do carry on, you magnificent natural disaster doling out doll. I shall observe from a safe distance with a glass of something alcoholic and appropriately inhibition abandoning. Simon Scowling be damned. I award you full marks for conceptual ambition, if perhaps not for antiquated notions of dignity preservation and making nice. A wonderful exhibit, and i expect nothing less from your purview. Utterly admiration inspiring.
Gill I hope you ψrite a book or somefin, this is pike... gorgeous. Anyψaaaaave thank you. Kiss kiss.